Author's Note

“Sailors on a becalmed sea, we sense the stirring of a breeze.”

― Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space

First Interview: Sailors on a Becalmed Sea

[Autoscribe Activated, Set to Record… Range Increased to 50 feet radius. Auto-adjusting gain and equalization. Transcript compiled at the 15:49 mark. Voices distinguished for convenience.]

S: Don’t you move. I ain’t about to shoot if you don’t… okay. Okay, okay. Jesus. Who the hell are you?

?: My, they did say you would probably greet me a bit roughly. I hadn’t expected to see such a weapon pointed at me… so quickly, too! Please, calm yourself. I’m a friend, ma’am.

S: Hardly. I don’t know you from Adam. And you know what? I’m pretty fuckin’ pissed that you’re sitting in my camp, so why don’t we cut the smiley crap and you start talking about stuff I care about.

?: That is acceptable. I’ll oblige, if you will drop the act. I’ve read up on you, Miss Marshall, and would you like to know what I’ve concluded?

S: No.

?: I’ve concluded that you won’t fire. You’re a good woman. I’ll agree with your associate Dr. Eroll that you’re a bit rough, but you’re a good woman.

S: Are you a Fed? Man, if you are…

?: I am certainly not one of those butchers.

S: How should I believe you? Voice sounds like… Concordat.

?: And you are right. I am here as a representative of the Concordat on a mission of peace. I bring gifts, and you’ll notice that my hands are raised still. I’ve not touched my own weapon.

S: Yeah, but I also have the Judge on you.

?: That you do. First, some news from the homefront: your colleagues are alive and well. The good doctor sends his greetings and an apology. They were rescued out of Federal hands two days ago. My government returned them as a gesture of goodwill, and our respective employers have brokered a mutually beneficial arrangement, and thus I am here.

S: How many? Why should I believe you aren’t the blackshirt sumbitch who shot all those bullets the other day?

?: The… pardon? You’ll have to catch me up on that. I know nothing of it. I arrived yesterday.

There is a pause.

S: I don’t want to shoot you, you’re right.

?: I would rather avoid that myself.

S: Were you the one that trashed my camp?

?: No.

S: Sighs. Dammit. Fine, for now I’m gonna go along with this. The Judge is still out, heh, literally. I’m watching. Kindly step away from my tent, would you?

?: Certainly, ma’am. Might I put a hand down to help me rise? The leg is a bit stiff. It’s an old wound.

S: Go on.

?: Thank you. I appreciate that you’re willing to listen, and I am regretful that my presence seems to have coincided with evidence of some third party. Having used no ammunition myself as of yet, I can safely say that I am not responsible for any casings you may have found. What were there make?

S: .45 auto.

?: Ah, then I shall further put your mind at ease. I will not reach into my jacket, but might I pull it aside?

S: You touch a piece and I’ll show you why .454 Casull’s the last argument of kings.

?: Oh! That was good. I like that… I’ll have to remember it. Do you know the original quotation?

There is a rustling sound.

?: It’s from King Louis the… I believe the 14th? On his cannons, he ordered it be inscribed “Ultima Ratio Regnum” which is Latin for “The last argument of Kings”. A delightful sort, he was. As you can see, it’s an--

S: M97, but it’s all weird.

?: Good eye, I’m pleased you’re quick on the draw, if you’ll forgive the joke. Yes. An M97A4, specifically, designed as a designated marksman rifle, and approved by the late United States army roughly two years before the Massacre of Amarillo. I took this particular example with me when I left the service.

S: Were you there?

?: Pardon?

The Raging Judge is cocked.

S: Amarillo. Answer the question. Now.

?: I was not. At the time, I was on my way home from the war in Panama. I avoided the much lesser known massacre there by only a week, in fact. Watched the horrors unfold on the news, before the soon to be Federal Junta pulled the feed.

S: So you’re one of the ones that walked.

?: That I was. Truth be told, Panama and Mauritania… I was quite ready to go. The world was falling apart and the old empire Franklin started rolling was cracking. You might find it hard to believe, but I do sincerely believe it might live again.

S: America’s deader than my mother and she got torn to little tiny pieces by .50s in the streets. Amarillo.

?: I had read that. I am sorry, for what is worth. My generation failed yours.

S: You know what? I think I believe you.

?: I’m glad to hear it.

S: But I’m not exactly excited about you bein’ here. Even if you’re Concordat. You guys can be shady. At least a little offense meant. What’s the name?

CM: Christopher Malthus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

S: And you talk like you’re out of Gone With the Wind.

A soft sound of the Pioneer as she resets the hammer without firing.

CM: Ah, that hurt a bit. I’m loathe to be associated with the Lost Cause. Bad for business, as well as a bit sordid. I’m surprised you know what is, actually. Your file did say you were surprisingly aware of the old world. The personnel we rescued. mentioned your request for reading material on base.

S: What’s your angle? Shoot straight with me.

CM: Exploration, curiosity, commerce. Cartography, really, like Joshua and Caleb in the new promised land. At the moment? I meant to find you and converse. I assumed you would not wish my presence in your camp and came prepared to set up stake elsewhere, but not before I had delivered my second gift.

S: Yeah?

A rustling sound.

S: Oh fuck me. Is that…?

CM: Food? Yes.

S: I don’t even care about that smartass smile you have. You slide those over towards my tent and I’ll take back the crack about your voice, on my mother.

A grating noise.

CM: It is done. Also, this. It’s a rather primitive device, an old radio. If you’re right, and I feared such might occur, then there is a third among us. Possibly more, but the Federal Union has a presence in this new world. They will be monitoring the more conventional methods of communication, so we shall settle for the old analog. The range is limited to about a mile, even with the improvements I had my subordinates install, but it will do.

S: Where do we go from here? I ain’t completely comfortable with you knowing where I am but me not knowing where you are. But I ain’t about to get violent with someone who’s been neighborly with me.

CM: I would say, but I do not know myself. I assume you would not be accompanying me.

S: Hell no.

CM: Yes, well. The work of a cartographer of alien worlds is a bit lonely, I suppose. Best to make the… well, best of it. That one fell apart on me, didn’t it? Regardless! Have we an accord? I shall not bother you, and you always have a line to me. Your superiors requested I not badger you and the details of the arrangement brokered by both of our governments insists that we conclude separate investigations of this world, so as to provide a better picture through independant eyes. However, I would love to compare notes in a few days, yes?

S: We’ll see. I’m puttin’ my gun away, okay?

CM: I’m glad to see it.

S: Well, you kinda killed the mood by not being a baby-murderin’ blackshirt or the one who trashed my camp, so…

CM: I’ll lay the radio here, alright? If you see our mutual… friends…

S: If it’s more than one, then yeah. I’ll call ya. If I live, I might call you afterwards too. You any good with that thing?

CM: The stories I could tell. Very good.

S: I hope you don’t have to use it. I think he might have met somethin’ too big to handle. Blood everywhere and a dozen or two dozen shells spent. Scared off the game too. You’ve saved my life with those day-rations. If they ain’t poisoned, obviously.

CM: Suspicion suits you surprisingly well, Miss Marshall.

S: Sorry, but that dumb smile don’t work on that face. The coat is nice though. Keep it.

CM: And on that note, I’ll away. I assume I have no fear of being shot in the back?

S: I’m no murderer.

CM: Oh, I know you aren’t. I read your file. I was impressed, sincerely. You are the right sort of woman for this enterprise, Miss Marshall.

S: Yeah well… thanks, I guess. Watch out for my traps. If you’re gonna make camp, do it south of here. I didn’t put anything there. The trees have markings, so you’ll see any pitfalls. Good luck, man.