Chapter Seven

Rhys had settled into his new home very quickly. There was more than enough room for both crews of the Harvester to live and not impose on each others’ space. In a similar arrangement to what they had in New Swansea, Rhys had bedded down with the other mustelids, as well as Scott and Chekhov.

True to Dewson’s word, some of the crew had indeed been able to bring their family out from TIE, and this had contributed to a very relaxed atmosphere over the first few days. Rhys and Twitch had also enjoyed the rest, and had not worried themselves with the two slips of paper that Commander Tudor and Major Thomas had given them. They had not been able to get a spare moment away from Steph and David, and the two had already agreed that until they knew exactly what information lay on those two pieces of paper, they would tell no one of the task set before them, not even their partners.

On the third day after their arrival, Rhys and Twitch managed to find some time to leave the house on their own. They took the twenty minute walk down to the ocean, which was a sight Twitch had never yet experienced, there not being any large bodies of water on Ceres.

The sky was grey and had the feel of approaching winter, and the air was cool and still at the top of the cliffs that overlooked the turgid waters. Amongst the lavender heather, the two mustelids finally had the opportunity to see what information Major Thomas and Commander Tudor had given them.

It had only taken Rhys a moment to notice something very unrealistic.

“Twitch, take a look at this. Look at where they think we can create this faction,” he said, pointing to the diagrammed paper.

“Holy shit, how do they expect that to happen?” Twitch said when he too saw what Rhys had been referring to. Either Major Thomas or Commander Tudor, Rhys wasn’t sure which, had scrawled out a plan for the future site of the mustelid faction main base. They had placed it on Mars.

“That’s too ambitious. They can’t seriously think we can overhaul the Vatican from Mars,” Rhys said, shaking his head and scanning the rest of the paper, trying to find something else that would prove this. There was nothing concrete, though there were a few scribbled out names amongst designs for ships the mustelids could use, and rough diagrams of attack and trade routes. The only name Rhys could make out clearly amongst the scribbles was Cymru, with another possibly being Mercury.

“What about Cymru, would that work?” Twitch said, also noting the list of names that had been rejected.

“Cymru wouldn’t be suitable; it just doesn’t have the infrastructure. Celta though, that could be a better possibility. If we could control Celta, we effectively have control of the whole system,” Rhys said. Even better with that idea was that Major Thomas was confident of the CGP’s chance of claiming the Sirius system for their own in the near future, which could fast track any plans for system being given over to the mustelids.

“Apart from Terra, that’s the most important place to hold,” Twitch said thoughtfully. “The Denitchev mines, aren’t they all in Sirius? If the mustelids hold the mines, then both TIE and CGP will be relying on us to be capable of interstellar flight.”

Rhys stared at Twitch in surprise, and then grinned. He hadn’t even thought about that. He took a pen and crossed a single line through the plans for the new base on Mars and scrawled next to it two words. ‘Sirius. Celta.’ That would be where the mustelids would centralise their own faction, given the slightest opportunity.

“Of course, we’d probably need to send some assistance to help take over the system, or else whoever is in charge here may not want us to take such an important place,” Twitch said.

Rhys sucked in his breath. “You could be right. Mustelids have helped the CGP before and been rewarded for it. If we help them claim Sirius, they may be willing to put us in control of the system,” he said, before turning his focus to the second piece of paper, which was mostly consisted of a list of names. One entry caught his eye: ‘Nigel Garter – could assist in any plans’.

“Doctor Sparks wasn’t the only spy, was he?” Rhys asked with a sidewards glance towards Twitch, who was looking a little uncomfortable again.

“He wasn’t. I think there’s one on nearly every ship throughout TIE. Don’t ask me who is on Admiral Garter’s ship though, because I don’t know,” Twitch said, looking down at the scraps of paper the entire time. He tapped at another name, which had been underlined several times. “Who do you think this is?”

“Amy Jennings,” Rhys mused, looking down at the name. He had never heard of her before, but of all the names on the list given to them, hers was the only one that had been highlighted. She had to be important.

“Do you think she’s another spy?” Twitch asked.

Rhys shook his head. “I doubt it. She’s someone in the CGP, I pretty sure about that.”

Twitch sighed and looked back down. “It’s all a little bit useless, isn’t it?” he said, grasping his tail in frustration. Rhys was inclined to agree, but they had been given a start at least. It was all very vague, but the beginnings of a plan were starting to form in his mind.

“We’ll go and find out who this Amy Jennings is, and see where that leads us,” Rhys said, folding up the two pieces of paper and placing them in his pocket for safekeeping. “We’ll keep our ears on the ground for any news on the attack on Sirius. I’m sure Major Thomas will give us any information we needed on that.”

Twitch frowned. “But where do we even begin?” he said.

“I don’t know yet,” Rhys whispered.

“Will Aaron help you?”

***

“What’s it like here? How different is it from TIE?” Rhys asked.

He had taken Twitch’s advice and gone to Aaron for help trying to locate Amy Jennings, but also to try and learn a bit more about the CGP. They had already been talking for over an hour, not even touching upon anything Rhys had originally come to ask. The two old friends had been revelling in each other’s company and trading stories of their adventures since they had last been stationed together, over two years ago in Sydney.

“It’s not different at all, not really. Life happens exactly the same as it does on Terra, or Ceres, or Celta. Nothing is different. For me, at least,” Aaron replied after a moment of thought. “For mustelids, I’d imagine it to be very different.”

“How so?”

“The first thing I noticed was that there were more mustelids here, or at least, you notice them more. They’re not everywhere still, but they aren’t restricted to slave labour like they are back in TIE. You see them a lot in the workforce, some businesses here even have mustelids in management positions,” Aaron said.

“But not yet in the forces,” Rhys said, leaning forward in his armchair that was ludicrously large for him. He felt quite dwarfed by the blue suede chair. “Major Thomas told me that Twitch and I were the only mustelids of commanding rank here.”

“I think your arrival could change that. The fact that you’ve been kept on as captain tells me that a change is coming. If they didn’t want mustelids in commanding ranks then they’d have quietly demoted you or assigned you somewhere else,” Aaron said. He suddenly laughed. “I can still barely believe it, you know. I sometimes forget I’m talking to Rhys Griffiths,” he said.

“I sometimes forget I am Rhys Griffiths,” Rhys replied. He stood up and spread his arms and looked himself over. “I don’t just look a different person, I feel one too.”

“You’re so much shorter now, too. I bet that was strange to come to terms with,” Aaron said, standing by Rhys’ side as he compared heights. Rhys only came up to Aaron’s sternum, and he wasn’t the tallest of men.

“Four foot five at the last check,” Rhys replied, poking his tongue out at his old friend. “Believe me Aaron, my height was the least of my concerns to begin with.”

Then Aaron became quite serious. “It must have been tough at first,” he said. It was in no way a question. He already knew.

“I thought it was the worst thing that could ever have happened to me. Now, I think it’s one of the best. I wouldn’t change anything,” Rhys said with a smile.

“It got you out here, and I’m glad of that,” Aaron said, surprising Rhys by pulling him into a gentle embrace.

They sat and talked for a while longer, until the binary stars were sinking low in the western sky. It wasn’t until the shadows were lengthening and the temperature beginning to plummet that Rhys even realised the time and that he hadn’t even broached the topic he had originally set out to discuss.

“Say, Aaron. You wouldn’t happen to have heard of an Amy Jennings?” he asked just as he was preparing himself to return home. He knew Steph would be waiting for him, likely having dinner cooked for the entire household, like she had been doing every night since their arrival on Centaura.

“I’ve heard of her, though I’ve never met her. Nick talks about her a lot; you remember my navigator, don’t you?” Aaron said. Rhys nodded. He still remembered the shock he had received at seeing Nick Steinman, not only on the Terrestrial Dawn’s bridge, but navigating the ship, those many months ago when he was still human.

“She’s a bit of an oddity amongst mustelids, quite the leader type, which Nick tells me is quite rare. She’s one of the managing directors of Jennings & Harper, a technology firm based in the city.”

“So she’s powerful?” Rhys asked. “Influential?”

“One of the most powerful and influential mustelids there has ever been. In fact, one of the most influential people ever,” Aaron said. “Her products broke Google’s grip on the market. For the first time since Google took over Microsoft, there’s two rival companies in technology here.”

“She can rival Google?” Rhys said in shock. Google had monopolised the market for just over two centuries, since they took over the Microsoft Corporation in 2213. Since then they had crushed any smaller company that had dared attempt to challenge them and had completely dominated the market over all technological systems. In TIE there were no challengers, even the Institute of Science on Cymru was owned and operated by Google. Anyone in TIE would be amazed that a challenger to their might had arisen, and more so when they learned that the person behind this new company was a mustelid.

Rhys had no idea why her name had been highlighted by Major Thomas or Commander Tudor. Sure she was powerful, but what did the two humans expect her to do on creating a new faction? Money and technology was not what was needed. More than anything, he needed unity amongst the mustelids. Could Amy Jennings provide that?

“You seem preoccupied, Rhys,” Aaron said, cutting into his thoughts.

Rhys shook his head. “Just a lot of things to think about, that’s all. Everything’s going to be new to me here. It’s going to be nice though not having people staring at me with absolute contempt all the time,” he said.

“You had it rough?”

“Two of my crew physically attacked me within the first few days,” Rhys said, recalling with a shudder the treatment he had received from Cooper and Briggs. “But it wasn’t just them. I was amazed at the reaction I got from some people. They treat us like feral animals sometimes, it’s absolutely disgusting.”

“Rhys, could you sit down for a moment again please,” Aaron said, and didn’t say anything else until Rhys had done so. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly, can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Rhys said slowly and suspiciously.

“I’ve been listening to you talk. You use us a lot when talking about mustelids, and them or humans when talking about us. You don’t consider yourself human at all any more, do you?” Aaron said. He sounded almost sorrowful.

“Look at me, Aaron,” Rhys said, spreading his arms again. “This is what I am now, and nothing is going to be able to change me back. It took time for me to accept that, but accept it I did. I’m as much a mustelid now as you are human.”

“Alright then. I guess that’s fair enough,” Aaron said. He still sounded a little sad, but Rhys knew that it was simply something that his old friend would have to get used to.

Rhys said farewell to Aaron soon after that, the prospect of a good dinner proving too much to resist any longer. He also wanted to pass on his discovery of Amy Jennings’ identity to Twitch, and see if they could arrange a meeting with her as soon as possible. He was very interested to learn what she had to contribute.

***

Jennings & Harper was located in one of the tallest buildings in Habourtown, towering over its neighbouring businesses and flashing its logo out to the rest of the city from atop its sloped roof. Even Rhys had felt quite intimidated by its dark walled lobby that was the size of the docking bay of the Cardiff spaceport, though not as tall. Despite the great size, there was rather little actually done with the space, and most of it was just empty and featureless white marble floor, but for the elaborate fountain in the very centre.

From what they could see, the employees of the company were a mix of humans and mustelids, though there was perhaps a little more of the former than of the latter.

Rhys and Twitch had arranged a midday meeting with Amy Jennings, and as they were a little early, they were made to wait in the lobby until they were able to be seen. The human receptionist had been kind enough to them, though he had not been able to spare more than a few seconds of his time to them between phone calls. He had enamoured Twitch by allowing the mustelid free reign on the bowl of chocolates on his desk.

This only did a little to ease Twitch’s nerves though as he could not stop moving. When he wasn’t devouring another piece of chocolate, he was always tapping the chair to some irregular tune, or bouncing his legs until Rhys grew impatient with the movement and told him to stop. He looked nervously at the few people who passed, following their movements until they were out of sight, and jerking around at even the slightest hint of movement.

Finally they were greeted by a mustelid who introduced himself as Mortimer West, one of Amy’s advisors. He was exceptionally tall for a mustelid, as Rhys guessed him at just over five feet. Rhys had to stand up to try and diminish the height difference between them as much as he could. The business suit and tie Mortimer was wearing looked a little strange on him, but perhaps that was just because Rhys had never seen a mustelid dressed so formally before.

“Welcome, both of you to Jennings & Harper, and of course, to Centaura,” Mortimer said, shaking both Rhys’ and Twitch’s hands with the usual energy and pomp of the mustelids. He smiled brightly. “I don’t know why Craig didn’t just send you straight up. Amy has been dying to meet you; I’ve never seen her so excited. You’d take precedence over even the Gates family, if they wanted to see her.”

“I’m flattered,” Rhys said, his ears folding flat against his head. In truth he was more embarrassed than anything. He wasn’t used to be treated like someone of such significance. The Gates family were the majority shareholders on the Google board of directors, and thus some of the most powerful people in all of humanity. You simply could not snub a meeting with them, especially not for a mere captain.

“Don’t be. This is really just a hobby for Amy. A very prestigious and rewarding one, granted, but a hobby nonetheless,” Mortimer said, waving his hand around to indicate the lobby around them. “She really doesn’t care much for the meetings and all that. She usually leaves those to Stephen. That’s Stephen Harper, by the way, the other director of the company.”

Rhys nodded, but Twitch just stared at Mortimer with his mouth slightly open. He didn’t seem to be fully following the conversation.

“You know, you two are most alike. Are you brothers?” Mortimer asked as he began to lead them towards the doors at the back of the lobby.

“Do you know anything about my history, Mortimer?” Rhys said, surprised by the question. He guessed that in a sense, he and Twitch were closer than mere brothers.

“To be honest, no,” Mortimer replied, glancing back at the two to make sure they were following.

“He was human,” Twitch said, finding the ability to speak again. “A teleporter back on Ceres malfunctioned, or something, and Rhys here became an exact copy of me. It was very... disturbing, the first time I saw him like this. Like looking in a mirror, only it’s no reflection you’re seeing.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mortimer said. He sounded rather intrigued, but held any further questions about the matter at bay. Rhys was relieved. He didn’t much feel like reliving his recent history yet again. He was too busy trying to work out what he was going to discuss with Amy.

Mortimer led them into a large elevator just past the doors at the back of the main lobby, where he pushed the button for the highest level the elevator could reach; floor forty-two. As the elevator slowly trundled up towards its destination it played a calm score of music, which Mortimer hummed along to with some degree of familiarity.

“Over seven hundred years old, this music is,” Mortimer mused as the music lulled and faded to silence. A second tune then began to play, one Mortimer either didn’t know so well or didn’t like, for he ceased humming. “Pachelbel’s Canon, you know. Not enough people listen to music from that era anymore.”

“How has it survived so long?” Rhys asked. He had never heard of any music from such an early time. It was hard to find anything older than from the early twenty-first century.

“I’ve no idea, but I’m grateful that it has,” Mortimer replied as the elevator came to a gradual halt.

The doors slid open to reveal a single, open planned room with massive windows that overlooked the entire city far below them. The floors were covered by a thin white carpet that was soft beneath their feet. There was a desk by the large windows, as well as a conference table large enough to seat a dozen around it. Along one wall was a series of filing cabinets and shelving full of papers and folders. A computer was at one end of the room too, currently turned off.

Amy was sat at her desk. She was nothing like what Rhys had expected, but his opinion had been prejudiced by what he knew of human businesspeople. Amy was clearly not one of them, and she was distinguished from them not just by species, but also how she dressed. Unlike Mortimer she did not wear a suit or anything even remotely formal. She was dressed in nothing more complex than a simple t-shirt and running shorts. Around her neck was a gold necklace, and her right ear was pierced with a diamond stud, but these were the only signs of wealth or prestige on her body.

She stood up immediately as Rhys, Twitch, and Mortimer walked into her office.

“Captain Rhys Griffiths, it is an absolute honour to meet you,” she said, warmly embracing him, before turning her attention to Twitch and embracing him too. “And of course you too, Christopher. Please, take a seat. Mortimer, could you send someone up with refreshments, thank you dear.” Mortimer nodded his head and backed out of the room without a word, closing the door silently behind him.

Rhys nervously sat down in one of the conference chairs, all of which he noticed had a spacious gap between the seat and back. It only took him a moment to realise that this was to allow for his tail. He leant back fully, stretching out his shoulders over the top of the leather bound chair. He hadn’t felt this sort of comfort since his change – he had always needed to perch awkwardly on the edge of the seat or else crush his tail behind his back.

Twitch tentatively took the seat next to Rhys, his eyes resting on Amy as she tidied some papers on her desk. “What are we going to say?” he whispered in Rhys’ ear. Rhys silenced him with a sharp gesture of his hands.

Amy had filled a large black binder with the papers that had been scattered over her desk. She carried the binder under her arm as she ambled over to the massive conference table. She was in no hurry as she slid out the large chair at the head of the table and made herself comfortable. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and cupping her head in her hands. Her ears were perked, matching the inquisitive gleam in her eyes.

“So, Captain Rhys Griffiths, why have you come?” she asked.

Rhys took a moment to formulate a response, grimacing as he bit his tongue. “We came to learn,” he said eventually.

“About computers and technology?” Amy nodded slightly and leant back in her chair, stretching her arms high above her head.

“About mustelids. About how they live here.”

“I don’t live like any normal mustelid. Even here, the majority don’t live in opulence and wealth. I am very much the exception to the rule,” she said, her right ear twitching in amusement.

Rhys was not to be dissuaded by Amy’s coy responses. “But you know more than we do, and you hold power and influence even amongst humans. If someone were to come along and try to change how things were, you would be crucial to those plans,” he said. He heard Twitch’s quiet squeak of surprise, but he thought there was little point in trying to hide the true reason to their visit. If Major Thomas and Commander Tudor’s vague plans and ideas were to ever come to fruition then Amy Jennings would need to be an integral part of the operation. There was little point in excluding her at this early stage.

Amy said nothing for a short while, stroking one clawed finger down the side of her muzzle. Finally she sucked in her breath and tapped a small button on the surface of the glass conference table.

A hologram projector started up on the far wall, revealing a list of folders and files. Before Rhys could even read the file names, Amy had already selected one and opened up a series of images. It took Rhys just a moment to recognise them as newspaper clippings, and then a few moments longer to realise that he was featured prominently on many of the articles. There were photos of him in Centaurian media. He recognised the backdrop of both Ceres and Mount Cotton.

Rhys slid back in his chair, feeling dizzy. How did they get these pictures of him? He was so lost in his confusion that he never even read the articles, something Twitch had already started. The other mustelid was shaking the captain’s arm, trying to wake him from his reverie.

“We already know about your exploits, Captain Griffiths,” Amy said quietly, scrolling through article after article, mostly focussing on the attempted rebellion that Rhys had led at the Mount Cotton spaceport. “I don’t think it was an accident that you came to Centaura. I think someone wanted you here.”

Rhys found that he couldn’t trust himself to speak just yet, but Twitch stepped into the silence. “We have permission from the military to lead a revolution,” he said with a nervous glance towards the doors at the far side of the office. A sound from there had attracted Rhys’ attention too, but the doors were still firmly closed.

Amy smiled widely, revealing most of her pointed teeth. “I thought as much,” she said, just as the doors slid open. Mortimer had returned, and by his side was a human carrying a tray of tea, coffee, and a variety of biscuits and cake. The mustelid carried nothing but a small notepad.

The human deposited his cargo of drinks and snacks on the table with a nervous smile, before retreating from the office and leaving the four mustelids alone. Twitch hesitantly reached for a slice of fruitcake, glancing up at Amy with an alarmed expression. Only once Rhys leaned forward and picked up the steaming pot of tea and poured himself a drink did Twitch take a bite of the sweet cake. Ignoring Twitch’s dilemma, Mortimer drew up a seat and sat by Amy’s side.

“We expected you to come ever since we got word of your defection from TIE,” Mortimer said as he readjusted his collar, smoothing out a small crease that had emerged there. Rhys had to wonder how much of the conversation he had already heard – had the mustelid been eavesdropping on them? He fidgeted nervously in his seat, keeping his tongue until someone spoke. It seemed like they had no choice but to trust the second mustelid in on their plans.

“We needed to be sure of your intentions,” Amy continued. “But you’ll find that a lot of the groundwork has already been laid out for you. It wasn’t set up with any revolution, but there is a monthly meeting for mustelids in Habourtown that has been running since before our ancestors won their freedom at the start of the war. We have attendees coming in from all over the system. If any revolution starts, it will be through there.”

“How many?” Rhys asked.

“About three hundred turn up every month without fail, but with all the occasional attendees, I’d say we average about six or seven hundred each meeting,” Mortimer said, quickly glancing through his notebook.

“Now we aren’t military, and we have no interest in that field at all,” Amy added as she opened her binder, flicked through the many pages and pulled one out. “If you’re serious about this, then you will have to deal with the military. In the meantime, I highly suggest coming along to our meetings.” Amy handed Rhys the paper – a poster advertising the monthly mustelid convention. It proudly detailed the location and time of the event. She was right, this was not a covert meeting designed to instigate a revolution.

“We’ll be there,” Twitch promised, looking over Rhys’ shoulder to look at the small poster.

“Excellent,” Amy said, rubbing her hands together, but Mortimer’s reaction was a lot more sombre.

“Just remember Captain Griffiths and Lieutenant Hall that this will not be easy if you decide to go ahead with this. You will discover there will be resistance to a revolution everywhere, in places you won’t necessarily suspect. There are mustelids out there who don’t want to change anything. They’re happy with things as they are.”

“I understand that,” Rhys said, nodding his head. His breath quickened as the magnitude of the task that had been placed before him became apparent. This was far greater than the revolt he had led at Mount Cotton. This was an attempt to change the lives of countless thousands of mustelids, even those who didn’t want their lives changed. Was this something he really wanted to do? What right did he have to speak on behalf of all mustelids?

“So,” Amy said brightly, rubbing her hands together, “If we’re done with the serious business, perhaps you’ll indulge in my curiosity. How –”

“How did two mustelids gain rank within Spaceways?” Rhys asked, already knowing what the question was going to be. Once Amy nodded, he sighed in resignation, mentally preparing himself to relive the whole ordeal again. It was a chapter of his life he would rather forget, but he knew that people’s curiosity would never allow him to do that.

Rhys held his mug of tea up to his lips. The brown liquid was still far too hot to drink, but he allowed himself a few moments to sort out his thoughts. “I guess it all started with Aaron Lee,” he said.