<h2>Planet 5 / Ch. 37: Time flies</h2>


    </a>Exo-planet research group, Mars


    “Ladies and gentlemen,” the group director said, addressing the emergency general meeting, “As you know, since the state sponsors of the programme have been keeping their funding constant but costs have been increasing, we''ve been under considerable financial pressure for the last few decades. As you also know, our last year''s foray into providing an unusual location for an extreme survival show didn''t exactly go according to plan, and while the onion-resistant slime creature infections were all dealt with, that contract has been cancelled as being too perilous. The simple fact is that we need to either find another funding source, try to persuade state funders to donate more, which is unlikely to occur and risks them deciding to stop, cut staff, or increase charges for both research and medical interventions, which we''re all reluctant to do. This meeting is to decide what option to choose, and its an emergency meeting because with the cancellation of the show contract we only have three Earth-month''s reserve.”


    “I''ve been looking at the old research group documents,” someone asked, “can someone enlighten me on what happened to the income from the inter-system trade? Wasn''t that supposed to support operational costs?”


    An elderly researcher got to his feet, “It does. That''s the so-called state-sponsor''s income. Someone decided a century ago that it was better to have a fixed income rather than the percentage. Therefore I cry foul on the director''s timidity about asking the state sponsors to reevaluate. It''s not a sponsorship, it''s a fixed income in lieu of a variable one. Someone ought to do the maths on what''s being earned, of course. The obvious corollary is that if essential operational costs are not being sufficiently supported by the trade that research can continue we should be saying we can''t afford the trade routes at the current rates. And if our esteemed director is calling this meeting saying that some of our operational costs are not essential, then let''s have that conversation too, before we start pricing people out of research or the medical facilities.”


    “Thank you for the correction.” The director bowed, “We obviously need to research the profitability of inter-system trade, somehow. In answer to the question of non-essential costs, some of our operational costs are very convenient, for example the cafe. Closing it would be one of the possible job cuts.”


    “I suggest we consider tourism once more,” another researcher said, to a chorus of groans. “No, I mean it. Ground isn''t safe, we know that. We know that colds are dangerous to our shape-changing friends there, and that we''re tasty to slime creatures. So we go more different. We''ve got plenty of planets that don''t measure higher than Earth on the danger scale and could be revisited.”


    “Quite a few of them are on the no-visit list for other reasons though,” the elderly researcher replied.


    “So we exclude them from the offering.”


    “You''re suggesting the tourists choose?”


    “I''m suggesting that we make a list of places we don''t mind visiting again, ranked by scientific value and the lower the scientific value for us, and the longer the travel time, the higher the cost, but making clear that the fee they''re paying is to help us continue the research, not just funding the trip itself. And we could also offer day-trips within the solar system, as long as the starting point isn''t Earth with their stupid bubble-ship exclusion rules.”


    “All this takes important ship-time.”


    “Rubbish,” one of the pilots said, “There''s not an un-flyable ship in the hanger, they''re just not as modern as the newer ones but they''re sitting there, idle. Even the Jack Flash is still flyable, if you know what to do with all the extra controls. It takes pilot time. And there are plenty of qualified pilots who would be happy to take their kids on a solar system tour, even if they don''t want to be away from home for months at a time any more.”


    “We have no idea about the demand,” the director said.


    “Great. Let''s commission a market survey, it shouldn''t take much more than a few months. Alternatively, I''ll happily put up a message on the retired pilot''s channel and see if anyone wants in, and I expect we''ll get a reply within half an hour, like normal. If no pilot wants in, then we''ll give up, if there is some interest, we can ask them if they''ve had any enquiries. I know I have a list of people who''ve asked me to get in touch if we ever decide to let people see Jupiter''s spot from close up or whatever.”


    “Any objections?” the director asked, sensing that the mood in the room had changed.


    “If it''s retired pilots, then fine by me.” a researcher said.


    “Or follow-up visits to places we want to go anyway,” another said, thinking of the long list of places he had thought of re-visiting one day.


    <hr>


    </a>50km above the Central Caneth-Tew border


    The monitoring satellite''s A.I. considered the parameters from its language database, and decided that yes, those signals it was receiving at several different frequencies in the thirty meter band were certainly speech, and furthermore, the characterisation of the signal — amplitude modulation of a signal that drifted with time — did not match the properties of any of the Kanuga equipment that it had logged over the years. The voice-print correlated with the person it had heard described as ''princess Naneela'' on other frequencies. These raw data points led it to conclude that the Dahel empire had reached another stage of radio development. The A.I. didn''t rejoice that it now had another method to learn about the people on this fifth planet that was more reliable than reflecting lasers from puddles or cups; it''s design hadn''t included emotions. But it did adjust it''s schedule, and feed the input into its language-decoder. Until it received the correct signal or its power supplies grew low, its role was data storage and analysis. And staying in position, of course. That was becoming increasingly problematic with the radiation levels connected with the aurorae. It considered these various inputs in the following seconds, and correlated them. The people on the planet were attempting to meet the technical challenge''s criteria. This step demonstrated capability to meet those criteria. A deadline of years had been mentioned earlier. Discussions involving other nations were planned. Conclusion: further information would be transmitted, and laser-reflection audio interception was no longer a priority. Altitude adjustments were no longer prohibited by laser-reflection audio interception. However, position adjustments were also unlikely to be needed beyond fifty years. Energy budgets were re-assessed, recently observed blood residue in oceans could be investigated. A survey probe was powered up and began its self-test sequence.


    <hr>


    </a>Tesk, chamber of judgement


    Elakart addressed the chained prisoner. “You know that your participation in a human sacrifice is a crime worthy of death. You have also been found guilty of perjury before the high council. The penalty for this is also death. In accordance with the law of Tesk, you are condemned to death and have no more than sixty breaths in which to turn from your sins and beg God for mercy through the power of Jesus'' death on the cross. In these seconds you determine your eternal fate, choosing an eternity of punishment or of peace.”


    “There is no eternity, you crazy old bat!” the baker and dum-semb acolyte said, defiantly. “There''s just your pet crabs that you''re sacrificing those you''re envious of to. You can wrap it up however you like, it''s just about the politics of power.”


    Elakart nodded at the guard to pull the trigger, and turned away, looking out over the harbour.


    She could pronounce the sentence and even pull the trigger herself to release the weights that would strangle a condemned prisoner, but she refused to watch the death that must take place. Something caught her eye. There was a metal thing hovering a hundred meters away. It looked a little like an hour-glass made of metal, an alien machine.


    She turned to the guards, and checked with them. “I''m not imagining things am I? An alien machine outside?”


    “They''re back? Praise God!” one of the guards said.


    “It doesn''t mean they''re back,” his colleague corrected him. “Just that the machine up there got curious about something, like during the counter-revolution.”


    “Ah, of course,” Elakart said, understanding. “I''d forgotten that. I wonder if it will listen to an explanation.”


    “You should probably give it a go, countess,” the first guard said.


    “I will try. Please put the corpse on the disposal platform first. I''ll talk to the alien machine, and you please interrupt the high council to ask that they join me on the balcony with the summary of cases.” Mentally, she prepared what were the most important things to say. That this was a judicial process, of course. And that they were trying to eradicate human sacrifice. And trying to forgive those who''d turned from their sins.


    She stepped out onto the platform. Language had changed, she knew, even in her own lifetime. If she was to be understood, it would not be a bad idea to speak like she remembered her grandmother doing. Her voice was not strong, she knew, but she tried to shout clearly. “Tool of alien visitors, I, countess Elakart of Karet, greet our elder siblings in the name of the saviour Jesus Christ. I am desirous to provide an explanation for what happens here.”


    The alien machine apparently ignored her.


    “This man has been found guilty of taking part in a human sacrifice,” she shouted. “He asked for no mercy, he gave no hint that he regretted his actions. I could not be merciful. He is now dead. And the law does not allow us to bury him. We dispose of his body like this.” So saying she pulled the lever that released the trap door. “The knives ensure that none escape alive when they have been condemned to death. It is a terrible thing. We hate it, but we must do it. We must cleanse the evil from among us. We thought the evil had gone, and missed the signs. Duchess Hayeel of Repink in Dahel discovered the first priestess, heard her thoughts thinking of dum-semb. We knew dum-semb was becoming more popular, but she recognised the name as the religion of death, the religion of the doom-guard. Why do I keep shouting? I wear out my voice and you''re not listening!”


    The younger guard had been watching the probe. It was drawing nearer. “I think you''re wrong, countess.”


    “Are you listening, alien machine?”


    “Alien machine recording,” came back the reply, without intonation. “Recording, collating, analysing, waiting.”


    “We try to be merciful, because God is merciful. But dum-semb almost won here on Tesk. All of the military officers were in it, many politicians, and government officials. We nobles were hiding, there was no high council. Now we restore law, and end the horrible sacrifices of dum-semb. We have mercy where we can, when someone repents of their sin and trusts Jesus, and the high council, the thought hearers, see the repentance is genuine, and not just regret at being caught. But almost a thousand bodies have fallen onto the knives since Hayeel found the priestess, Yanesa''s mother. Praise God, she has repented of her sins, as have many others. I have asked that the record of judgements be brought out to show you. Thank you Kelara. This book is the list of those charged with corruption or membership of dum-semb by the remaining nobles of Tesk. There are more complete records of each case. We seek to eliminate the evil.”


    “And God-willing we will succeed,” Kelara added, “And God willing we will manage to send the radio signal. But the sun will become unstable as the dust cloud gets closer. The atmosphere will be blown away. We need help. Please, do not wait for the radio signal. Everyone will be dead long before I am as old as my mother if you cannot help.”


    The probe recorded, and the A.I. analysed this input, but its programming was clear. “Signal is required.”


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Kelara bowed her head.


    Elakart said, “Daughter, we should tell more. Let it know more of our history.”


    <hr>


    </a>Dahel Institute of science.


    “Imagine that there was a need for thousands of identical telephone systems and hundreds of radios, and there were semi-skilled people doing the boring bits much like spinning the yarn and cutting it to length in the carpet industry.” Naneela said to the craftsmen. “What bits of valve manufacture, and radio manufacture actually need to be done here, and what would be possible to get others to do?”


    “Heater winding could be done with a modified spinning wheel,” one said. “That''s how we do it now anyway.”


    “So could speaker coils,” another added.


    “What about coating the wires?” asked another.


    “We use dyer''s tricks for that anyway. A good dyer could be trained in half a day. It''s just a lacquer instead of a dye.”


    “Any decent glass-blower can do the outer tubes. And probably the final construction if they had our jigs.”


    “I think, highness, that if you designers would only stop changing things, the whole lot could eventually be done with semi-skilled labour,” the head of the manufacturing wing said.


    “Excellent! So, the first step is to find the easy bits that don''t change much, like speakers, settle on a design that''s good enough for every base of the imperial messenger service to have one, while we concentrate on meeting the challenge. From the sound of it, about all Tesk will be helping with is high power switching.”


    “Highness? With respect, why do we need to get distracted with a request from the messenger service?” one of them asked.


    “That''s not a request from the messenger service, that''s a request from the internal affairs ministry with father''s total support. There are laws that are not being enforced correctly, it seems.”


    <hr>


    </a>Village of Nazik, Central Caneth


    [Friend Tuga? How did you find my name?] Hwalf asked a few weeks later.


    [I searched for people with the gift of God.] Tuga replied, [And then I looked for the names of people in that place.]


    [Ah! Yes, I understand.]


    [How are you doing concentrating on one person''s thoughts?]


    [It is slow, but you''re right, it is possible. Thank you. I am thinking that it would be good to contact our elder siblings, do you not?]


    [I have tried, Hwalf. I looked for those who have the gift on their home-world, and found about they have about fifty, and I saw their cities and their all their continents. They have such a huge planet, and so much land! Only two thirds of their world is ocean. But I did not find one who might be asked to call to us or who I should call on to help. I don''t know if they are not on their planet at the moment, or if God withholds that information from me, but at the moment, it seems we must rely on the scientists to send their signal.]


    [We must be patient in this too, then.]


    [So it seems.] Tuga said [And pray. How is your princess?]


    [Isthana is well, and getting closer. Perhaps she will come tonight, I''m not sure. It depends how late they travelled by dark last night and how early they rose this morning. She asks me not to check, but my chin itches and I hate not knowing.]


    [So your chin wishes for her presence too? That''s a good sign, I think.]


    [When I was a lazy lizard, it was easy to be patient. Now... it is not so easy. Ah, sorry, a stranger comes to ask me to settle a dispute.]


    [Judge wisely, friend Hwalf, in all things.]


    [I will pray hard.] Hwalf said.


    “Hello,” the man said. “You are the judge, Hwalf?” He spoke with a Dahelese accent.


    “I am, yes.” Hwalf agreed, in that language.


    “Ah, you speak my language? Excellent! I have a dispute with my future wife. She says that a visitor should wait until the person visited is finished with his official work, her friend says that she is just saying this to tease, and I say that a long-awaited visitor should be announced, so that any last minute preparations can be made. My future wife said that in this case I must come and ask you to settle this dispute.”


    “You do not seem very upset about this dispute.”


    “I like my future wife a lot, she is well protected, and I had a good camel, fit for racing. I do not mind humouring her. My guard is not so happy about coming, but his camel is not a very tolerant beast.”


    “But if the dispute does not upset, why are you bothering me?”


    “I would like to learn what is true here, because I would not like to give offence.”


    “Some warning of any guest is good. According to the official rates, this simple judgement will cost you ten crowns, twenty-five if you need it in writing.”


    “I happily pay the ten crowns, and hope I do not offend by failing to haggle. And I give notice that my future wife''s friend is named Isthana, most honourable judge.”


    “Then you must talk to the Captain outside, perhaps?” Hwalf asked.


    “Ah, perhaps you mean the cloud of dust that marks where Captain Dalken, used to be?” Salay asked, with a grin.


    “Perhaps I should follow?” Hwalf asked.


    “That''s up to you, I think.”


    “Isthana may need help with her camel,” Hwalf murmured.


    <hr>


    </a>Exo-planet research group, Mars


    “Sir,” the director''s assistant said, “in the month since we''ve started in-solar system tourist trips, we''ve made a number of ex-pilots happy at being back behind the bubble controls again, gained enough firm bookings to keep them busy for half a year — it could have been more, but we felt we ought to set six months as an upper limit — and the tourist income looks like it''ll be a useful source of project funds. But in the last few days we''ve had two odd requests.”


    “Go on,” the director replied.


    “There is a rock-band called Sun-drive who wanted to do just that... the Jack-Flash is capable, indeed it''s done solar observation trips before, but the request is to film the trip, with the musicians playing their title song, and none of the returned ex-pilots wanted to recreate that flight profile, let alone with rock accompaniment. Plus of course, the Jack-Flash isn''t exactly the average bubble ship.”


    “No. Are any of the rock-band at all science-y types? And are they at all popular amongst science students?”


    “I''ll have to check. You''re thinking recruitment?”


    “Yes.”


    “OK, I''ll query the students. The next query is even odder.”


    “Go on.”


    “A query whether the quarantine on an early-years discovered planet has been lifted yet, and even if it hasn''t, could they go and have a peek on how they''re doing, grab data from a long-term monitoring satellite and if possible write a few PhDs on how the culture has developed. Apparently the descendants of the original survey team keep in touch with each other and still practice the languages.”


    “Of a quarantined planet?”


    “Yes, sir. They called it planet five.”


    “That''s a bit vague.”


    “Actually, that''s it''s official designation in the system, sir, I checked. The contact team spent something like twenty years there.”


    “For a quarantine planet?” The director asked, realising he was sounding less and less intelligent every time he said it, but he couldn''t help it. It just didn''t fit his understanding of the term.


    “Yes, sir, they were rather reluctant to give up on their friends. The quarantine was societal, sir. They had really good contact with some people, but society as a whole was really problematic. Basically they had to avoid people or they risked being seen as gods come to collect children as sacrifices. You know the picture on the canteen wall with the red-haired green girl saying ''Take me to your pizza!''? It''s in the photo archive with a number of other photos of the same girl, her wedding, her first child, and so on. But almost all of the pictures are in the space-lab.”


    “And this group want to fund a private trip there?”


    “Yes. High concentration of thought-hearers in it, by the way.”


    “The planet?”


    “No, the so-called ''Planet five re-contact group''”


    “Distance?”


    “I can''t remember the exact distance. It''s somewhere in that same star-formation region as most of the early-years life forms.”


    “Most of which we''ve been out of contact with for a generation.”


    “As far as I know, yes. Maybe someone''s been in mental contact, but just not told us.”


    ''Which brings us back to a point that keeps bugging me. Should we actually divide into a research group and a maintaining-contact group? At the moment, except with Ground where we''ve got the medical collaboration, we are much better at pouring investments into new contacts than at keeping in touch with others.”


    “Normally that''s because of tech level differences,” the secretary said.


    “Yes, but when I was first flying, teams used to at least go back every few years and check up on progress. I''ve never refused that sort of request, but I just don''t get them. There''s been an unhelpful shift in attitude, I think. But I can''t quite put my finger on it.”


    “Your predecessor saw it as a distraction from research, and a sapping of resources, sir. She told everyone they shouldn''t expect to go back.”


    “Hmmph. I see it otherwise. Have you replied to either of these requests?”


    “No more than a courtesy ''I''ve received your enquiry and will raise it with the director.''”


    “Other than me, how many people have actually flown the Jack Flash?”


    “You''ve flown it, sir? I didn''t know that.”


    “It was a long time ago, so I hope I''m not the only one. It used to be a requirement to get a Doctorate in Bubble Theory that you could. I guess removing that requirement was yet another short sighted decision in the history of this organisation. We seem to make a habit of them.”


    <hr>


    </a>Central Caneth, the Nazik Moot


    “First, before I say why I''m here,” Esme addressed the assembled crowd, “I hope you don''t mind me telling you an important truth: followers of dum-semb, the death-cult of the doom-guard, have been found in Tesk, in Dahel, in Tew, and in Caneth. The penalty for following dum-semb is unchanged, death. The laws of Caneth have in the past allowed for the formal burial of those executed including for the crime of involvement in dum-semb. I believe this is a mistake, those involved in dum-semb have committed a crime against every decent person on the planet. The penalty has been changed to death without formal burial plot. Let the wild animals of the desert or the sea take the corpses of those who commit this crime. As this crime has been prevalent in this part of Caneth, all here will individually speak a vow to report any they know or come to know who are involved in dum-semb, and to uphold the laws of Caneth. Failure to take this vow will be taken as sympathy to this illegal cult. Then I''ll listen to the voice of this moot about concerning how Central Caneth might have different laws to Outer Caneth in the future. If you''ve got sensible and acceptable suggestions then father has agreed that I should sign the necessary decrees.”


    In the tumult of voices that followed, Hwalf thought to Isthana [Does your sister know what she''s just done?]


    [Condemn some here to be vulture food and change the entire dynamic of the meeting?]


    [Normally a moot is a big opportunity to buy and sell camels and arrange other business deals, have a party, and when the participants are drunk they write some unreasonable demands to the king. I expect that her suggestion that the moot could make laws is going to be as unpopular as telling a class of students they must plan the lessons, but still pass the same exam. Expect them to ask the teacher to not leave.]


    [They might have some good ideas.]


    [Some might want to run away and never come back. Some might want to impose their will on everyone just because Esmetherelda lets them.]


    [You don''t think this is wise?]


    [Cynicism comes easy to me, sorry. I think it''s a good way to stop them writing more letters to your father.]


    <hr>


    </a>Heart of the Empire


    “Father, you wanted to speak with me?” Naneela asked.


    “Tell me of your day, daughter,” the emperor said.


    “The meeting went well and Tangseng reports that she and Tuga will be leaving soon, and will deliver the maps and test equipment.”


    “That''s good news, I suppose.” the Emperor of Dahel replied, looking weary.


    “I can tell you that this morning, the social change committee expressed unanimous concern at the idea of asking people to pray — about anything, I didn''t even get to say the topic — and extreme discomfort at the idea of enforcing the ban on dum-semb.”


    “And?”


    “And that this afternoon the entire committee were determined to have links with that banned cult. Therefore, I want you to accept the invitation to go to Kanuga, leaving tonight. The social change committee will be executed tomorrow or the next day, after further questioning. The combination of their privileged position, and the pervasiveness of the treasonous conspiracy and the failure of the interior ministry to detect this right on their doorstep means that the grand vizier and his entire office will be investigated and dismissed or executed, and also the committee will no longer be a permanent group. Instead there will be a committee made up of representatives from all levels of society, changing on a regular basis. When word of these changes becomes known, there may well be angry voices in the streets. When it becomes known that the end of the world approaches, it may be more than angry voices. I would like to know you are safe.”


    “When you say all levels, father, do you also include slaves?”


    “I mean that I have already asked the slave-schools who their most suitable graduates are. Not every owner allows their slaves to attend, of course, and there are poor peasants who also attend. But yes, slaves and freed-slaves, peasants, commoners, eleventh-rank nobles up to barons.


    Like the research centre, the committee offices will be declared outside the central zone. Helpful service on the committee will be rewarded, of course. Try to inform Tangseng of the change of plans, imperial princess.”


    “I will, imperial father,” Naneela said.


    “And try to persuade her to extend the invitation to Kahlel and at least one of your mother''s guards. It''s not right for an imperial princess to travel unaccompanied.”


    “Kahlel is already invited, father.”


    “Hmm. I''d forgotten that, if I knew. He''s not around at the moment?”


    “No, father. His paper on the transmitter design was accepted today, and he''s gone home to tell his family.”


    “Ah. And tonight you celebrate together?”


    “That was the plan, yes.”


    “How do you feel about him, Naneela? You''ve been calling him your future husband for a while. How far in the future are you thinking the wedding might be?”


    “I know I want to marry him, father. When is not my decision to make. But he plans to ask for your advice.”


    “Ah. It is not right for an imperial princess to travel unaccompanied. Run and ask your mother to come and tell me what she thinks about you being accompanied by your husband.”


    “You wish us to marry this evening?” Naneela asked, shocked.


    “I wish to see you safe, my daughter. I also wish to be present at your wedding. A hurried wedding is not ideal, but nor is delaying your departure. And was not Kahlel''s motivation for working on that paper in part to remove distractions before your marriage?”


    “It was, father,” Naneela blushed. “I''ll go and talk to mother.”


    “I''ll be in your grandma''s room. I''d better give her warning too, or I''ll really be in trouble.”