Taelon Mothership
Friday, 10:47 EST

I do not believe this is a wise course of action."

Zo'or glanced in the direction of the speaker. Da'an was standing by the Mothership's viewport, gazing at the distant Earth. Zo'or wondered if he would ever understand the other Taelon's obsession with that world. "And why is that, Da'an?

Da'an pulled himself away from the viewport and fixed his gaze on Zo'or. "In light of the recent bombing on the Moonbase, would I believe it would be wiser to postpone the opening of the Portal Grid until this situation is resolved."

"I do not agree." Zo'or rounded the chair at the center of the room and halved the distance between himself and Da'an. "If we postpone, it would show us as weak before the humans. And this I will not tolerate."

"The human public is unaware of the bombing," Da'an retorted. "They would not see your actions as a sign of weakness."

"Indeed," interrupted Ni'ram, the Taelon liaison to Earth's United Nations. "The humans would not know what to think of such a change in our plans. And when humans are presented with questions but not answers, they will invariably begin to speculate. And such speculation shall undoubtedly harm us."

Da'an now directed his attention to his new challenger. "I find it difficult to believe that the humans' imaginings could be so undesirable as to take such a great risk."

"Then you have been fortunate," Ni'ram replied calmly. "But I have learned that there is little on this world that is less desirable than a curious and speculative public." He now addressed Zo'or. "I advise against any change in our plans at this late stage."

"I had no intention of making any," Zo'or assured. He directed a pointed glance at Da'an. A wave of blue washed over the other Taelon's face as he momentarily let his form slip, in what humans called a "blush." From this, it was obvious just how strongly he was opposed to the plan, as Da'an rarely ever let his form slip of late. Nonetheless, he said only, "Then I hope that Agent Sandoval can have this issue resolved by then," and left. Zo'or then returned to his seat and was prepared to rest. However, there seemed to be another order of business.

"Is there something more you wish to say, Ni'ram?"

The other Taelon took a step forward. "Only that I would still wish that you attend the ceremony yourself, Zo'or. As leader of the Synod, your presence would bear great meaning to the humans."

Now it was Zo'or's turn to stare at the Earth, tiny in the distance. "I would not change the schedule for the Portal Grid because I will not allow humans to interfere with my plans," he said. "I do not care what is thought of me."

"Humans have a tendency for generalization," Ni'ram pressed. "As the leader of the Synod, what is thought of you is also thought of our entire species. Therefore, it is best for all of us that you be seen in a favorable light. This is something you cannot accomplish from the Mothership."

"It is not my concern how the humans see me or the Taelons," Zo'or retorted, glancing at Ni'ram. "That is your concern, and the concern of Da'an and the other liaisons to Earth. My concern is the Synod."

Ni'ram paused for a moment. One of his veins traced across his cheek in the first hints of a blush, but he maintained his composure. "I do not believe you recognize the true importance of this species, Zo'or."

"This is because there is nothing to recognize. Aside from the physical similarities, our species and theirs could not be more distanced."

"You are wrong, Zo'or. Humans share much more with us than physical appearance. Our two species are connected on a much more fundamental level."

"I do not concern myself with philosophy," Zo'or declared. "If we are to defeat the Jaridians, then we must not allow such irrelevancies to concern us."

"The Jaridians are only the immediate danger. If we squander humanity in this war, we may lose our only chance to save our species. We must not think of humans as a resource, but as another civilization, one which holds the key to preserving our own."

"None of which is my concern." Zo'or returned his gaze to the viewport. "You may do what you wish, but I shall only concern myself with what I believe this species is worth."

Ni'ram knew he had lost, and turned to leave. However, he apparently felt the need to add one last statement. "You have had very little experience with humans at large, Zo'or. Perhaps you would refine your opinion if you were to share more time with them."

Zo'or ignored the comment.


Taelon Moonbase

"What are you doing here, Major?"

Liam did not look at Sandoval, instead continuing to examine the portal. This one was at the end of a short hallway branching off from a main corridor. He was standing more than five hundred meters under the surface of the moon, and the place was indeed beginning to seem quite claustrophobic. Whether this was simply coincidence or an actual reflection to their location, he could not tell.

"Da'an is concerned that this...situation is resolved as soon as possible," Liam said. "He asked me to check on your progress." That last part was a lie, but Da'an was openly concerned about the bombing, so Liam hoped his statement was at least believable.

Sandoval, however, didn't even really seem to be listening to him. Taking this to mean that his story had at least not been rejected, he forged on. "Is this portal where you think the bomber came to the Moonbase?"

"Came or left, we're not sure which." The new speaker was a Volunteer commander in his early- to mid-thirties. Taking a moment away from one of his technicians, he extended his hand to Liam. "Captain Scott Kramer, Taelon security."

Liam took the man's hand. "Major Liam Kincaid."

"You have something to report, Captain?" Sandoval asked sharply.

Nodding, Kramer indicated the portal. "We've checked the database, and it records that this portal hasn't been used in the past month. But when we checked the device itself, we did find a fading energy signature, indicating that it had been used sometime in the last thirty-six hours or so. Once we knew that, we made a more detailed analysis. As far as we can tell, that portal was activated sometime around sixteen forty last night."

"Less than an hour before the bombing," Liam mused. "That means he was on the Moonbase for at least an hour, without being detected by any of the security safeguards. How could someone do that?"

Kramer frowned. "It's not possible to avoid the safeguards for any amount of time. Whoever did this must have erased the evidence of his presence afterwards. To do that, he'd have to have almost complete access to the mainframe. And that's something no human has."

"You think a Taelon did this?" Liam asked skeptically.

"Taelons don't kill each other," Sandoval said, though he himself didn't seem particularly convinced.

Kramer was nodding, apparently deep in thought. "And even if they did, I doubt they'd leave a flower behind. I'm going to work on the assumption that whoever did this was human."

After a short pause, Sandoval took up the inquiry. "You said the portal was used about an hour before the bombing. So either the bomber's still here, or he left using some other means."

"We've checked all the other portals," Kramer said, "and came up empty. And all the shuttles are accounted for." He sighed. "either he's still here on the Moonbase, or he walked home."

"I want all travel to and from the Moonbase discontinued immediately," Sandoval snapped. "And run a full check on all the security sensors. I want him found, and I want him found now."

As Kramer pulled out his Global and began relaying his orders, Liam took the opportunity to pry Sandoval for anything he might know. "How could someone get onto the Moonbase and booby-trap a portal without being detected?"

Sandoval gave him a look that was half irritated and half...almost disappointed, Liam thought. "He couldn't have done it alone. He must have help on the inside. And this must have been a well-planned bombing; it's not every day one can sabotage anything on the Moonbase."

Liam could see where this was going, and tried to cut off the Resistance connection at the pass. "Yeah, but to what purpose? Bombing a portal in a facility no one's ever heard of and killing three Taelons no one knew existed in the first place? Not the best way to make a statement."

"The Resistance has been trying to break the Moonbase story for over a year," Sandoval retorted. "But no. This was never meant as a message to the people of Earth."

"Then who?" Liam asked.

Sandoval didn't reply. But Liam could tell easily enough that he had an idea.

But all in all, it seemed to Liam that the FBI agent was as in the dark as he was. And it was that that really worried him. If neither the Taelons nor the Resistance knew what was going on, than who did? How could they be doing this? And why?

There was another unknown factor in play, one Liam could not begin to understand. But he had a nagging feeling that the Moonbase bombing would not be the last.


Taelon Mothership

"Wait, Ni'ram."

The Taelon stopped in his path and scrutinized Da'an. He seemed quite recovered from his recent match with Zo'or.

Confusing. Such swift emotional recovery was normal for Taelons, as any individual emotion was quickly absorbed into the Commonality. Why did he notice it?

"Yes, Da'an?"

Clarke? Ni'ram's "protector," Damon Clarke, the Commander of Security and Interspecies Relations, was occasionally a very emotional man. Often traces of this emotion would linger in his attitude for a consider amount of time. Customary human attitude?

"I am concerned about Zo'or," Da'an said. "He is becoming reckless in his policy, and I fear that this may reflect on the Commonality."

He. The term humans used to describe individual Taelons. Masculine. Sexual distinction. Fascinating, to deal with a sapient species, so similar to the Taelons in so many ways, but with such fundamental differences as gender. The humans were a fascinating species.

"Zo'or has yet to put the Commonality at serious risk," Ni'ram said. "However, I share your concern."

The Jaridians. Of course, the Jaridians also bore sexual distinction. Had this evolutionary development occurred before or after their split with the Taelons?

Uncertain. Irrelevant.

"We may not always agree, Ni'ram, but I understand that your interests are in what is best for our species. As are mine."

"As are, for the greater part, Zo'or's," Ni'ram pointed out.

Da'an reacted visibly to this remark. Confused. Distraught. As Zo'or's parent, Da'an could at times fail to think clearly regarding the Taelon. Maternal instinct?

Human attitude. Irrelevant.

Perhaps not. Though Taelon children did belong to the Commonality rather than their parents, Ni'ram knew firsthand that the bond between parent and child could be difficult to break at times.

Possible.

"Zo'or is young," Da'an said. "While his intentions are well, his efforts are often...misguided." The Taelon took a step forward. Human paralanguage. Seriousness. Confidentiality. "My influence in the Synod has fallen, and you are well-respected in the Commonality."

Politics. "If you are suggesting that I attempt to place myself on the Synod, Da'an," Ni'ram said, "Then you know my response."

Da'an averted his gaze for a moment. Disappointment. "Your presence in the Synod would serve us all," he insisted. "Your influence would be most helpful."

"I disagree, Da'an. That we have a ruling body in the Synod is necessary. That the Synod have a leader is also necessary. But it is also necessary that we place as little power in this ruling body as possible."

Da'an inclined his head. Confusion. "I do not understand."

"Both human and Taelon literature is rife with narratives regarding the dangers of power. We cannot allow these dangers to consume us." He looked pointedly at Da'an, and observed an unasked question within him. "This is why I support Zo'or. As he is in power now, any attempt to challenge him would result in a dangerous and costly power struggle. It is this aspect of our society that created the Pad'ar and Pa'raj'arah, and it is an aspect I was gladdened to leave behind."

"Occasionally, it is necessary to resort to such archaic philosophies to ensure our continued existence," Da'an insisted.

"If, in ensuring that existence, we sacrifice that which defines us," Ni'ram said simply, "then what is the value of existence?"

There was a pause, as Da'an reacted to the information. Uncertainty. Self-assessment. "If we continue to exist," he said slowly, "we may regain that which we sacrificed."

"Perhaps," Ni'ram agreed. "But we would never be able to undo the damage that we, in such a reversion, had already done. History cannot be altered. We must, therefore, concentrate not only on the future, but also on the present."

Time. He had an appointment with the United Nations in less than a Terran hour. He should return to earth. "I will not have any part in taking our species down that path," he concluded. "I shall serve the Commonality and our species by my continued efforts to understand and cooperate with the humans." He stepped into the portal, followed silently by Clarke. "Watch closely your own path, Da'an," he said, and activated the portal.

There was the familiar whining and a bright flash, but instead of the receptor portal in the North American Embassy, he saw a psychedelic combination of blues and whites, intertwining and shifting all around him. Though his feet told him he was on solid ground, all he could see was the endless ripples and eddies of energy. Furthermore, there was a strange high-pitched whining assaulting him from every direction. Beside him, Clarke was covering his ears and grimacing.

Frightened, Ni'ram reached out to the Commonality, but felt nothing. He tried again, but once more, he felt only silence. He was alone.

It was just then that he realized that he was caught somehow in interdimensional space. But how was this possible? ID travel should be instantaneous to the perspective of the traveler.

There was no answer. The "sound" was beyond deafening. Ni'ram felt himself being pulled and pushed in every direction. He felt, rather than heard, his protector scream. What was happening to him?

He was dying.

Taelons were supposed to welcome death, as the natural ascension to another plane of being. Why, then, was he so terrified?

No answer. Silence. Silence amidst a deafening noise.

Ni'ram felt himself coming apart, in every direction at once. He saw a blurry rendition of one of his own arms, glowing a translucent blue. He had not even realized until now that he had lost control of his appearance.

Terror. Panic. Taelons were unused to such emotions. Did humans feel like this every day?

Ni'ram's thoughts were now becoming blurred as well. He half-realized that he was close to death, but could no longer quite grasp what that meant. Only one though remained in the Taelon's mind.

Why?


Taelon Mothership
11:41 EST

Thirty-four minutes after Ni'ram and Clarke entered the portal and the Mothership, the portal in the North American embassy activated and deposited two bodies, a human and a Taelon. The human was deeply unconscious, and the Taelon was in Sahmbaad, a sort of near-death state. The portal malfunction had been detected on the Mothership, and an emergency medical team was present to rush the two to the nearest care facility.

Silently, he deactivated the monitor. For thirty-four minutes, he had watched the two figures writhing in agony as their bodies were stretched and contorted by the slipstream. He had not expected them to be able to experience the passage of time while inside the slipstream.

But then, he had not expected them to live, either.

A Volunteer strolled past his alcove. He checked the projector he had set up on the floor. Satisfied that the all the Volunteer—and any other passersby—could see was an empty room, he returned his attention to the terminal.

Now for the housekeeping work. Quickly, he logged out of the mainframe computer and erased all evidence of his presence from the terminal. He also made sure that his alterations to the security sensors were still in place. Finally, he checked to see that his manipulations had been incorporated successfully into the security database. Satisfied that everything was in order, he deactivated and pocketed the projector, then—making certain that there was on one in sight—strolled out of the alcove and away down the Mothership's corridor.