THE TWELVE -- Chapter 3 - New Orders

The lights in the ship came on again shortly after the ship landed.  Jaeger then rose and touched the command console, but it did not respond; it was still being controlled by someone or something outside.  As he returned to his seat, Djaisiuk reentered the room.  The other boys looked up as Djaisiuk entered, Creole in particular looking at him questioningly, but Djaisiuk did not meet their gazes.  He walked silently to a vacant chair and sat down.
 

“Djaisiuk?” began Creole, but he then stopped suddenly, hearing the hull door open.
 

The boys sat in perfect silence as the sounds of several footsteps came to them from the outer halls.  There seemed to be the slightest hesitation in the steps as if the owners did not know their surroundings well.  One began to climb the metal ladder to the engine room.  Creole started towards the door, but Eriane held him back.  “No,” he whispered.  “Wait.”  Creole slowly retook his seat as the other footsteps continued.  The door to Cycil and Sandy’s room was opened.  The two of them tensed but did not move.
 

The remaining footsteps approached the control room.
 

A Vukasovian officer of low rank flanked by two soldiers entered.  They stopped short with apparent (albeit quickly veiled) surprise when they saw the twelve boys staring at them.  The officer stared back at them for a moment, then quickly recovered himself.  He drew himself up haughtily.
 

“Is this all of you?” he asked sternly, counting them with his eyes.
 

The boys glanced at one another.  Jaeger was the first to speak.
 

“Yes,” he said.
 

“You will come with us,” the officer ordered. 

The boys rose silently and lined up by age (out of habit) in front of the guard indicated; Jaeger, Jade, Leil, Djaisiuk, Eriane, Wysire, Detrin, Cycil, and Sandy.  A few of the boys looked a bit surprised when Djaisiuk joined them, but none said anything.  Creole, Christopher, and Faquire remained seated where they were.  Creole looked the officer in the eye defiantly.  Faquire looked away, as if bored.  Christopher alone looked perhaps a very little bit nervous.
 

“I said, you will come with us,” the officer repeated, looking at the three who remained.  When they still refused to obey, he continued, “You will do so willingly or unwillingly.  You may choose which.”
 

“Very well then,” said Creole defiantly, “I choose to do so unwillingly.  Now make me.”
 

The officer nodded to the first soldier to escort the nine willing boys off of the ship, then instructed the second soldier to go and bring the others who were exploring the ship.  He would stay himself to watch the three ‘rebels,’ he said.  Knowing, as he did, that Komislavians did not carry weapons, he had no fear of staying alone with them.  He was armed; they were not.

The nine boys followed the guard out of the ship.  Outside, there awaited several young men, apparently orderlies of sorts in various uniforms, many more guards, and one officer of apparently very high rank.  The soldier who had led the boys stepped up to this officer and explained very briefly about the three boys who refused to come willingly.  The officer nodded curtly, gave a few quiet orders to him, and motioned him aside.  The soldier reentered the ship, and the officer then stepped forward himself and looked at the Komislavian boys with what any Vukasovian would have called a very friendly expression.
 

“Welcome to Vukosava,” he said.  “I am Kandryl, and I will be your new superior officer.  You have been selected because of your remarkable intelligence to participate in the work of a new research facility.  Each of you has unique skills and training that make you valuable.  We would like first to scan your information in order to see where best to place you.  Please step forward one at a time.”
 

The boys then noticed a Komislavian scanner on a table before one of the orderlies.  They wondered somewhat at this, but did not question it.  All members of the IC School had a data chip implanted in the back of their right hand which contained not only information about the individual and their training and assignment, but also current physical information.  A scanner could tell the name, age, position, intelligence level, and much more about the person scanned.  The officer Kandryl seemed interested only in the first four items at the moment.
 

Jaeger stepped forward silently and placed his hand beneath the scanner.
 

“Name: Jaeger; age: 19; position: pilot/captain; iT level 84,” Kandryl read aloud.  “Very impressive.  You’ll go with Jf. Hidral.”
 

Kandryl motioned Jaeger to one of the Vukasovian orderlies standing waiting, who then escorted Jaeger away.  Jaeger looked back at the others as he left with a look that said, ‘I’ll find you all again soon.’  Then he disappeared from their sight.
 

Kandryl then continued in the same way with each the others.
 

“Jade; 18; navigator; 79; you’ll go with Jf. Rodre.  Leil; 17; engineer; 64,” he paused.  “Interesting.  Rather lower than I would have expected.  You’ll go with Jf. Fobai.”
 

When Djaisiuk placed his hand under the scanner, Kandryl blinked and looked at the display in surprise.  Djaisiuk did not react, although a few of the other boys smiled.  They all knew what he was now seeing.  Djaisiuk’s data chip was different from the others in that rather than giving information immediately, it gave first a command:

Djaisiuk of the IC School.
DO NOT QUESTION HIS ACTIONS
– Taician, Head of the IC School

This appeared in large bold letters across the screen.
 

Kandryl frowned, half in confusion, half in annoyance, and motioned the orderly to display the next screen.  This showed the information that Kandryl wanted.
 

“Djaisiuk,” he pronounced slowly.  “Age 17; researcher/inven–” Kandryl paused, looked up at Djaisiuk, and raised one eyebrow.  “iT level 112?” he said quietly.  The other Vukasovians in the room looked at Djaisiuk, stunned.  Djaisiuk still did not look up.
 

“I’ve never seen a level that high . . . in one so young,” Kandryl continued.  In truth, he had never seen one that high.  His own was among the highest on his planet, and it was but 98.
 

“Step aside,” he said at last.  “You’ll come with me.”
 

Turning back to the scanner, he motioned Eriane forward.  “Eriane; 15; physician; 72; you’ll go with Drayl.  Wysire; 14; psychologist/counselor.”  Again Kandryl stopped and looked up.  “Counselor?” he repeated with obvious scorn in his voice.
 

Wysire’s silver eyes flashed, but his voice remained calm.  “Yes,” he said.  “Counselor.”
 

Kandryl regarded him silently for a moment.  “No iT level listed.  I suppose that in your profession it is difficult to measure.  You'll go with Moru,” he said.  He then motioned Detrin forward.  “Detrin; 13; electrician; 81.  Very nice.  You’ll go with Jf. Ruchea.  Cycil; 9; errand runner.  Ah, so you are not a member of this mission then?”
 

Cycil shook his head.  “Sandy and I just help out wherever we’re needed,” he said.
 

Kandryl nodded in understanding.  “You’ll both go with Jf. Jiaril for now,” he said.
 

As Sandy and Cycil left with the orderly indicated, Kandryl motioned to the guard at the door of the ship.  The guard then called to another within, and Creole, Christopher, and Faquire were brought out of the ship, each led forcibly by a guard.
 

Kandryl stepped forward, looking at them with the same friendly expression with which he had greeted the other boys.  “I understand,” he said, “that you three have some, shall we say, reservations about this relocation.”
 

“Say rather,” said Creole sharply, “that, do what you will, I won’t serve you or your race.”
 

“I’m not asking you to serve me,” Kandryl smiled.  “This is an experimental facility and I’m humbly asking you to take part, only for as long as you like.”
 

“I didn’t realize that ‘humbly’ was a word in the Vukasovian dialect,” said Faquire, frowning.
 

“Nevertheless I do ask,” said Kandryl, still smiling, “humbly.”
 

“In that case,” said Christopher politely, “I very respectfully decline.”
 

Seeing Kandryl’s eyes begin to harden, Creole said with mock politeness, “And if you change that humble request to an order, I will decline not so very respectfully.”
 

“I have no intention of ordering you to do anything,” continued Kandryl unperturbed, his voice softening to a sort of purr.  “I ask you to work with us.  You refuse.  Why?”
 

Creole and Faquire looked at him incredulously.
 

“Do you really want an honest answer to that?” asked Creole.
 

“Of course I do,” Kandryl replied.  “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
 

“Well, the fact that you commandeered our ship and kidnapped all of us plays a little part in my refusal,” said Creole.  “Beyond that, there is your race itself.  You Vukasovians have only one thought and one goal: that of conquest.  You won’t be happy until you’ve destroyed or subjugated every other race in existence.  My race seeks only peace.  We would never wish to conquer anyone.  Knowing what I know of your race and what you know of mine, can you possibly imagine that I’d work for or with you willingly?”
 

“Your friends seemed to have no difficulty in complying,” countered Kandryl.
 

“They’re afraid of you,” said Faquire quietly.  “We’re not.”
 

Kandryl smiled at him for a moment then turned his head slowly and deliberately to look at Djaisiuk who still stood off to one side of the room.  The three boys followed his gaze and seemed to notice Djaisiuk for the first time.  They all looked a bit startled.  Djaisiuk did not move or acknowledge their stares.  He remained standing perfectly still, staring at the floor.  Kandryl turned back to look at the three boys.
 

“Would you say that they are all afraid?” he asked.  “Is that the only reason that they comply?”
 

Christopher and Faquire looked at the floor, refusing to meet Kandryl’s eye.  Creole looked at Djaisiuk for a long moment, swallowed, and looked back at Kandryl.
 

“I don’t know why Djaisiuk would serve you,” he said.  “Very few people ever know why he does what he does.  But I don’t question him.”
 

“But, seeing that he agrees to work with us, you still refuse?” Kandryl asked.
 

“Yes,” Creole replied unhesitatingly, “I do.”
 

"But was it not you who said that he could give you the best advice regarding your own decision?"
 

Creole blinked, and Christopher and Faquire looked up quickly.  Realization seemed to dawn on them all at the same time.
 

"He did not offer me any advice then," replied Creole calmly, "and he does not now."
“But in light of his choice, why do you still refuse?” Kandryl asked.
 

Creole sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Do you really want me to repeat my reasons?”
 

Kandryl raised his eyebrows questioningly.
 

“I said that I don’t question his actions,” Creole continued.  “But unless he himself told me to serve you, I wouldn’t even consider doing so!  Even if he did tell me, I’m not sure that I’d do any more than consider it.”
 

“Suppose he told you his reasons,” said Kandryl.  “Then what?”
 

“That would depend on his reasons,” murmured Christopher.
 

Faquire swallowed and raised his chin defiantly.  “I will neither work for nor with you, no matter what you or Djaisiuk say,” he said.  “You can stand here arguing as long as you like, but it won’t change my mind, at any rate.  I will not serve you.”
 

Kandryl shrugged.  “I’ll give you time to think about it,” he said.  “You will be free to change your mind whenever you like.”
 

He motioned the guards to bring the boys forward to be scanned.  Creole did not submit to this willingly, but did not fight back.  Christopher allowed them to scan his hand without resistance.  Faquire did fight back, but more for show, it seemed, then from any real hope of success.  Kandryl ignored the struggles and simply read the information provided.
 

“Creole,” he read, “age 16; mechanic; iT level 92.  Very impressive.  Christopher; 16; mechanic; 81.  Faquire; 14; nutritionist; 79.”
 

Once the scan was done, he instructed the guards to take them to the holding cells, “to give them time to reflect,” he said.  The guards led the three boys away.
 

“The oldest one is remarkably intelligent,” Kandryl observed after they had left.  “One does not often see an iT level in the nineties.”  He turned to Djaisiuk.  “And never in the hundreds.”  He smiled.  Then, instructing to Djaisiuk to follow, he left the room.