Then, I heard the groan again.

  It came from one of two doors on my right. From the first door, a crack of light could be seen. I turned to Le Seaux and mimed opening the door. She signaled by lowering her hands as if she were closing a car trunk. Proceed with respect and caution.

  So I knocked on the door and when no reply came, I gently pushed it open.

  Inside was a room about the size of a basketball court. There were shelves running along each wall, like those in a library. One section of the shelves held books. The rest of the shelves held something like black bottles. In the centre were giant desks and chairs.

  Some books were open on one of the desks. I was about to proceed further into the room when I heard steps outside and the squelch of boots.

  'Don't touch anything,' said Le Seaux coming into the room.

  I walked to the shelves to check out the books. They looked like they could have come from Earth, but not recently. The bindings were old leather, faded and ragged. The books themselves were in several languages. There was a complete works of Shakespeare, and Edward Gibbons's The decline and fall of the Roman Empire.

  'These are PEA books,' said Le Seaux. 'Forbidden.'

  'Take a look at this,' said Chen from the desk in the centre of the room. Le Seaux and I walked over to him. He held up a book. The cover read An Introduction To The Latin Tongue. It looked very old. 'Published in 1790,' said Chen. 'What's that in Accord era years?'

  'Put it down, Mr Chen,' said Le Seaux.

  'When did they get hold of this?' he said. 'Were they on Earth once before?'

  'Maybe they got them from Earth on the visit two days ago,' said Le Seaux.

  'Doesn't look like it,' I said. 'These didn't come from any Accord Bookshop.'

  'A library then?'

  'But what library? No-one is allowed to look at books from the PAE, and no library would let such old books get into this condition.'

  'Look!' said Chen. 'The Latin book has marks all through it.'

  'How wonderful that they took the time to study the language,' said Le Seaux.

  Chen put the Latin book down. I went over to it and turned a few pages. He was right. Marks all through it, including a page with the word Hyacinth underlined. Blue for Earth.

  'What about this one?' said Chen. 'This one will really open your eyes.'

  He held it up. It was a picture book with the title, Beauties From The Biggest Sit coms Of The 1960s. It was a modern book compared to the others, but its age was still in the hundreds of years.

  Chen flicked through the book's pages. A series of faded photographs fanned by. Each one featured a woman dressed in strange clothes and wearing a bizarre hairstyle.

  'This is real pre-Accord decadence,' said Chen. 'Just take a look.'

  He held up the book and flicked the pages. Women's names flashed by: Barbara Eden, Barbara Feldon, Anne Margaret, Elizabeth Montgomery--all first names that people who identified as women in the modern Accord era would never choose. Ever.

  The poses too were something we'd never seen before. The females reclined with their backs arched and their eyes closed as if they were feinting or ill. Or they smiled extravagantly, another gesture unknown among Accord females.

  But it was the clothes that were the most striking. People who identified as women in the Accord always posed in military uniform or sports uniforms or Accord smocks--never anything as oppressive as a dress, or in the case of some of the photos, some kind of underwear.

  Le Seaux frowned so severely, two creases appeared between her eyebrows. 'Obviously, they were totally oppressed by the pre-Accord patriarchy,' she said. 'Here, hand the book to me. I want to just how much the pre-Accord women were oppressed.'

  She took the book from Chen, turned to the front page and flicked through it slowly.

  'Just look how they are suffering,' said Le Seaux. 'See how they are forced to wear these costumes for the male gaze, forced to smile, all for the pleasure of the patriarchy. It's disgusting. I sense their pain. Even now, I can feel it.' She felt their pain so much that she flicked through the pages all over again. 'Thank goodness for the Accord,' she said.

  'One of those women looks like you,' said Chen. 'There, that one,' he said leaning over Le Seaux's shoulder. 'Elizabeth Montgomery.'

  Le Seaux snapped the book closed, tossed it onto the desk and walked over to Chen, her face furious, her green eyes aflame. 'What did you say?'

  'I'm sure Mr Chen was only making a harmless observation,' I said.

  'I don't think he was,' said Le Seaux, her hands at her sides, fists balled. 'Are you trying to oppress me, Mr Chen?'

  Before he could answer, a terrible wail came from outside. 'Urrrf,' it sounded. 'Urrrrrrrrrrrrrffffff.' This was followed by heavy snuffling breaths and then, 'Urrrrrrffffffffff!' once more.

  I walked out of the door and into the passageway. 'Urrrf,' came the groan again. Chen and Le Seaux followed.

  'In there,' I said, nodding at the next door next along.

  'Respect and caution,' warned Le Seaux.

  I knocked on the door. No response except for an extended 'Urrrrf,' and heavy labored breathing. I tried the door's handle.

  'Careful, Burns,' said Le Seaux behind me, but the handle had already swung down, and the door slowly opened.

  'Too late,' I said.

  Dull light shone out from inside.

  'Do not enter, Lieutenant,' said Le Seaux.

  But I had already seen inside.

  23

  THE ROOM WAS a quarter the size of the library next door. The bulkheads were the same black, slimy material. The dull lights were suspended low over a table in the center of the room. The table was as high as my chest, and on its top, someone or something lay groaning.

  My first thought: it's a monster. Not even years of Navy Spirit courses on acceptance could stop me thinking the word.

  Monster.

  'What's the matter?' said Le Seaux.

  'What's the smell?' said Chen.

  'There's someone strapped to a table,' I said.

  Le Seaux pushed through the door way. 'We are sorry,' Le Seaux said. 'We apologize if we have disturbed you.'

  From what I could see, being disturbed was the least of the troubles.

  On the table was a creature roughly twelve feet in length and covered in shaggy black fur. It had long arms and short, muscular legs, with long claws on each extremity. The legs and arms were strapped down, so that it couldn't move. Its face was covered with a black cloth. And its stomach had been opened up revealing brown and red viscera.

  'Urrrrf,' the creature groaned.

  'What the hell is that?' said Chen.

  'Mr Chen,' said Le Seaux. 'Please respect our hosts.' Her hand was on her mouth.

  'Is it an operation?' said Chen. 'They haven't stitched it up.'

  'It might be a special treatment for sick crew,' said Le Seaux. 'We shouldn't question our galactic friends' culture.'

  There were instruments on a short extension table: long, curved blades, clawed forceps, pliers, saws, drills. Was it an operation?

  'Please excuse us,' said Le Seaux, stepping forward. 'We are the emissaries from the planet Earth. We are invited here by Admiral Octavia.'

  'Urrrf,' groaned the creature, snuffling under the face cloth. 'Urrf.'

  'We'd like first of all to extend the warmest greeting from our planetary governing body, The Accord of Nations,' said Le Seaux.

  'Urrrrrrff,' groaned the creature, struggling against its straps. Its enormous furry legs thrashed. Its claws clenched and unclenched. Its viscera glistened in the light, and slipped back and forth.

  'Should we help it?' said Chen. 'Sorry,' he said. 'I meant them, or him, they--this individual?'

  'Would you like us to help you?' said Le Seaux. 'We don't understand what you're saying, but we value tolerance. If you would like us to leave, just say so.'

  'Urrrrrrrrffffff,' said the creature.

  'I think he might be a prisoner,' I said. 'These rooms are cells. And this...this...is not for the individual's health. It think it's for something else.'

  Le Seaux's eyes flashed. 'Lieutenant Burns,' she said.

  But she was unable to finish.

  The room suddenly shuddered violently. The ceiling light swung back and forth; the instruments fell off the table in a clatter and the creature groaned even louder. 'Urrrrrrrrfffff!'

  Le Seaux had fallen against me again--fallen into my arms like one of the swooning women in Beauties From the Biggest Sit Coms Of The 1960s.

  She shoved me away.

  'Let's leave this person in peace and return to the entrance,' Le Seaux said. 'We can ask Admiral Octavia about the situation when we meet. Sorry to have disturbed you,' she said the creature.

  The room shook again as we lurched into the passageway.

  'Are we moving again?' said Chen.

  'That's my guess,' I said. 'The ship is moving to a new position. It's taking off, raising its anchor.'

  We left the stricken creature and rushed back into the passageway, then back to the point where the shuttle buttressed against the rest of the ship. We went back inside 'our' shuttle and looked at the large screens. One now displayed a star field. The other showed the Earth again, this time with the Earth receding.

  'We're moving further into space,' I said.

  'I can see that, Lieutenant,' said Le Seaux.

  'This wasn't part of the mission,' said Chen. 'We're only supposed to tell them the values, then get the hell out, right, and get back to our lives and businesses? Not go on a tour of the solar system.'

  'It might be part of their greeting ritual,' said Le Seaux, but her voice didn't have its usual certainty.

  'So what do we do?' said Chen, looking and me and then at Le Seaux. 'No-one's here to meet us. We can't contact The Accord. And even if we could, they wouldn't be able to help us.'

  The three of us stood there looking at the screens, wondering what to do. Should we go further into the ship, or should we wait to see what happens?

  Then someone spoke.

  'You can witness our battle,' said a deep female voice behind us, and in an accent that sounded like a voice from a pre-Accord movie. It was slow and certain and pronounced each syllable of each word with precision.

  We turned all at once and looked. I expected the monster might have gotten off the table, sewn up its chest, and come bounding along the passageway, claws bared, teeth and eyes shining.

  But the sight that greeted us was something totally unexpected.

  Standing there was a woman. She was about Le Seaux's height and age, perhaps thirty years old. She wore a white, full-length flowing robe, draped from over one shoulder down to the dark gray deck, concealing her feet. Her hair was blonde-red and, swept up into a kind of bun shape, like the styles worn by the women in the book in the library: Beauties From The Biggest Sit Coms Of The 1960s.

  But most unusual of all was that she looked like one of the beauties in the book. I couldn't remember the name of which one, but she was striking, unlike any woman on the Accord. Perhaps it was the make-up she wore, the shade on her eyelids, the color of her lips. It was captivating.

  She regarded us calmly, her eyes moving from Le Seaux to Chen to mine, where they lingered.

  After several seconds, Le Seaux snapped to attention. 'On behalf of the Accord of Nations,' she said, 'we would like to greet you and to inform you of our values of...'

  The beautiful woman interrupted her. 'That's not what I meant,' she said. 'I meant you can witness us fight.'

  'Fight?' said Le Seaux. 'I don't understand?'

  'It's quite simple,' the woman replied. 'The battle is about to begin.'

  We heard movement, boots on the decking, boots thrumming unseen but coming nearer.

  The woman turned her face to me. 'I am Drusilla, the captain of this combination of vessels.'

  'On behalf of the Accord...' Le Seaux began again.

  'That can wait,' said Captain Drusilla to Le Seaux. Then she returned her attention to me. 'In the meantime, the battle.'

  'The battle,' repeated Le Seaux.

  'Yes,' said Captain Drusilla. 'You're in the military. You know about battles and fighting, don't you?'

  24

  FIGHTING. BATTLE. WAR.

  The sound of the words made my heart race--and not just because it had been spoken by a beautiful woman dressed in a flowing white robe on--a spaceship.

  Fighting, combat, battle--all of them were forbidden by the Accord. They were used only in the most extreme cases--fighting anti-vegans for example. Or clubbing down the fascists who said there were only two genders, or that men weren't responsible for climate change.

  There was never an actual battle. There was never any conflict like the conflict I had trained for in the simulator, and in the courses of Naval tactics.

  Now here was someone calling on us to witness one.

  'What battle, Captain?' I said.

  'Why, the one we're about to conduct,' said the woman. 'The battle against the Goths.'

  'Honorable Captain,' said Le Seaux, interrupting. She held the gift from the Accord in front of her. 'I'd like to address you further, but I feel we should wait until Admiral Octavia is here. I hope you don't mind the use of the pronoun "you" for the moment, but first I must ask which pronouns you prefer...in order not to cause offense. I notice you are speaking to us in English, for which we are grateful. I also notice you appear to identify as a female, which is of course, completely fine. It's just that you have gone so far as to dress like an ancient pre-Accord female, conforming to gender stereotypes of that time period, which again is absolutely fine, but which, as you know doesn't necessarily mean that you must be addressed as a female. You just tell us how you want us to...'

  Captain Drusilla looked down at Le Seaux without expression.

  'Step back,' she commanded.

  'What?' said Le Seaux, her eyes blinking, several times.

  'Step back.'

  'But it's essential that I use your correct preferred pronouns.'

  'Step back,' Captain Drusilla said once more, 'unless you want to be crushed. Move over there away from the entrance.'

  She turned and walked away to the side of the entrance with a motion so smooth and captivating that both Chen and I did not even look toward the source of the approaching rumble.

  Instead, we floated behind Captain Drusilla, as if we were hypnotized. Le Seaux, still astonished at the rebuttal she had just received, held out for a few seconds longer, then followed as well. I could imagine what she thought about it: how could someone not want to hear the values of the Accord? Especially someone from an advanced society. It didn't make sense.

  Meanwhile, the rumble grew louder and louder until it was like the thunder of an approaching buffalo stampede, as if dust clouds would come billowing through entranceway any second.

  'If you'd just let me know your pronouns, Captain,' said Le Seaux, to the woman's profile.

  'As I said, my name is Captain Drusilla.'

  'I'm Captain Le Seaux. My preferred pronouns are...'

  Captain Drusilla looked at Le Seaux, silencing her. 'Mine are "she" and "her," she said, 'in your language.' And then in response to Le Seaux's gaping face, she spoke again. '"She,"' she said. 'And "her."' And then, she added. 'And "miss."'

  'Yes, of course,' said Le Seaux, nodding over and over. 'Absolutely fine,' she said, nodding more, but I could tell she was horrified at the word 'miss' and all that it meant.

  'They're taking this Roman thing all the way,' whispered Chen to my left. 'Have you ever seen a women dressed like that? With hair like that? Displaying her figure like that? No smock? No jeans? Make-up. Jewelry. Have you ever?'

  He knew as well as me that the answer was no.

  The first troops thundered through the entrance and curled off to the left towards the shuttle stern. They were followed by more ranks of troops, all moving in unison. They were so closely packed in black armor that they looked like the scales of a giant and furious snake, slithering out of a cave.

  Each soldier was one and a half times my height, human shaped but wearing thick black armor and helmets with blank, opaque face guards, so that we couldn't tell what lay behind them. Were they the male versions of Captain Drusilla? Or were they something else? Their height made me think they must be the second. Something else.

  All the troops jog-ran, carrying riles across their chests. The rifles were fitted with cubed magazines on top--or what I thought were magazines. I wondered what kind of ammunition they fired. And I also wondered about the danger of firing a weapon inside a space ship.

  And what kind of enemy would they be firing against?

  The troops all assembled in the middle of the enormous hold, filling the void. The seats that we had seen earlier had how been retracted. The troops stood to attention in rows.

  'Here are your weapons and armor,' said Captain Drusilla. Three troops had broken off from the main group and were now standing behind her. Each held out a weapon and a folded black suit.

  'Take them and put them on quickly,' said Captain Drusilla. 'There is not much time.'

  'With respect, Captain Drusilla,' said Le Seaux. 'We can't be part of any combat. We're here in peace on behalf of the Accord Of Nations.'

  'If you don't use the equipment,' said Captain Drusilla, 'the Goths will sense your organs and attack you first.'

  Le Seaux persisted. 'Captain Drusilla, I'm sorry but we can't be part of any...'

  'Suit yourself,' said Captain Drusilla. She signaled to another soldier. He brought over a light, armored breastplate which Drusilla placed over her robes, which made her appearance even more captivating.

  Then, the entrance port slide closed and sealed itself. The metal strained and groaned, and the shuttle lurched. Seconds later, it began accelerating, causing all three of us to fall to the deck.

  'Guess we're not going back to Earth just yet,' said Chen.

  I looked up at the two big screens. The first displayed the many glistening hulls of the mothership, now slowly receding. The other screen displayed a different ship in the distance. It must have been the enemy vessel, the one in which the 'Goths' were waiting, whatever they were. It was also black, but of a completely different shape. It had one long hull, like a submarine--one with many ports.

 

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