Brooks entered the bridge. Cenz had taken the watch and seemed distracted reading a tablet. But the being’s attention could go in many directions, and he was fully aware of Brooks’s arrival.
“Commander,” Brooks said, giving him a nod.
“Captain,” the being replied. “We are only seven minutes from entry to this system’s Kuiper Belt. Our information indicates that the colony of . . . New Vitriol . . . is a mostly-rocky object approximately ten kilometers in diameter. We are not aware of how large the population is, but some of the public records we had access to in the last two colonies suggest Vitriol had initially a population of 300,000 or so – thus New . . . Vitriol will have less than that.”
Brooks caught the way the coral hung up on the word. “Is something bothering you, Cenz?”
“Ah, yes sir. This name – Vitriol. It’s hard to translate into my language. And even when translated, I’m having trouble understanding it.”
Brooks moved to sit. “Ah, yes. Well . . . how would you define the word?”
“Angry critique? But there is an element of the translation that I just do not understand.”
“That’s because the word implies more than anger – there is an element of intentionally wishing harm in it.”
Cenz was silent for a moment, and his face screen went to a strange sort of default blankness. Lights in his suit flashed in confused patterns, and staring at it was dazzling.
“I understand that many species have had wars and conflicts. My own people have become involved in those of the Sapient Union, but I was not directly. In a way, I can understand that these stemmed almost always from material causes – the lack of or desire for something vital to life.”
“But cruelty is not something you are able to really understand,” Brooks commented.
“. . . that’s correct, Captain.” He was silent a moment before adding; “In some ways I feel it gives me a permanent blind spot when it comes to other species. Your natural evolution has, for some reason, given your species the ability to have these thoughts. And yet . . . mine cannot seem to conceive of them.”
Brooks wasn’t sure how to reply to that; it was true, though. His species was capable of cruelty; it was some kind of by-product of evolution that served a purpose that was hard for him to justify. And humanity was not alone; most other sapient species had, at least somewhere in their history, shown such behaviours.
None of them were proud of it, but they could not change their pasts. They could only try now to rise above.
“At times your own kind are difficult for us to understand,” he finally said. “We’re singular minds, not collectives. I suppose, though, I am glad that your kind can’t feel it. You’re not missing out on much of value.”
“Why would they name their colony a term that implies such cruelty?” Cenz asked.
“Anger, I would guess. They felt slighted, and they wanted everyone to know it. It’s not a mature thought. But we are formed largely by our environments and conditions. Given certain kinds of conditions, we can turn out to think and act in ways that seem insane – even to others of our own species.”
He felt oddly cold, but the only reason he might have felt that would be if Kell was present; yet the sensors confirmed he was in his cabin.
Cenz turned to business. “We’re about to come back into realspace in thirty seconds.”
Brooks put on the comm. “All personnel, prepare for reversion to realspace.”
“I will be very grateful to have this shaking cease,” Cenz said.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Well enough. I might be what you’d call sore for a few days. But hopefully we won’t have to leave here immediately, so I can recuperate somewhat.”
Brooks knew he’d have to make sure he fully understood the extent of harm that the being had suffered through the trip. Cenz was a dutiful officer, and he was not sure if this trip had given him the equivalent of a headache or broken rib.
Making a note to himself to check on that later, he composed himself for their immediate concern.
With a lurch they re-entered real space.
Brooks glanced to Cenz and saw a placid smile on his face, which reassured him.
Checking that everyone else on board was fine, he then switched to external view and found the colony of New Vitriol.
“I’ve sent a message, but we’re just getting an automated reply,” Cenz noted.
Urle entered the bridge, followed by Kell. The compartment was beginning to feel crowded.
“Uknown ship, follow beacon course laid out for you.”
It was a message, but not an open channel.
Cenz looked to Brooks for orders.
“Take us in,” he ordered.
Kell was staring off, not at the monitors, but just above them.
Urle caught his direction of gaze. “What is it, Kell? You look like you’ve just seen a Leviathan.”
“No,” the Ambassador replied. “But I see something. There is a presence here . . .”
“What kind of presence?” Brooks asked. “Is it a danger?”
Kell shook his head. “I believe it is the seer.”
“Seer?” Urle asked.
“It’s a very old term from the English language,” Cenz chipped in. “For a being who is able to ‘see’ the future.”
“Or other things,” Kell said.
“Such things are superstition,” Urle noted sourly.
“Perhaps,” Kell replied.
Brooks arched an eyebrow but said nothing on the topic.
“I want everyone dressed and assembled for disembarkment in ten minutes. We set down in fifteen.”
Other Terrestrial 