Ada Stein will be a familiar character to anyone who has already read A Time to Build, the first book in the Umea Bakearen series. I was only marginally aware of Ms. Stein’s history when I introduced her character, and when I discovered who she really was, I decided to dig deeper and learn as much as I could about her.

The Holocaust is probably one of the darkest events in our world’s history, not only because of the genocide, but because of how complacent people were about their governments committing such terrible atrocities against people who had been their neighbors, if not their friends. If some of the descriptions of events in this story seemed distasteful to the reader, know that they pale in comparison to the atrocities that truly occurred.

This story first appeared in the anthology Six Points of Contact in 2015.

Luken Zaio

Luken Zaio paced the hallway outside the Commandant’s office under the watchful eye of two burly MPs. He knew better than to try to get on their good side. From personal experience, he was reasonably certain there wasn’t one.

The door opened. “Come in, Zaio. You men are dismissed.”

The MPs saluted and departed.

The Commandant motioned to a chair and Luken sat. “Why are you here, Zaio?”

“I was sent here, sir, straight from the tarmac. They didn’t even give me a chance to change out of my flight suit.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you damn well know it. What are you doing at this Academy?”

“I came to learn to fly. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

The Commandant’s eyebrow twitched. “I’m sure you meant to say ‘sir’ at the end of that.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

“You seem to think that the rules of engagement don’t apply to you. They’re there to keep students alive.”

“I’ve never caused a collision, sir. I’m the best pilot you’ve got.”

“Believe that, do you?”

Luken shrugged. “I’m not boasting, sir. I’m just saying what’s on the leaderboard.”

The Commandant grunted. “As far as pure piloting is concerned, you’re probably right. I doubt if there are any instructors here you haven’t defeated at least twice, even me. But respect for your superiors is every bit as important as respect for your ship. Even if you can fly circles around us all, there is no room in the Regular Deneb Fleet for an insubordinate pilot. I’m sorry, Zaio, but you’ll not receive a Commission.”

“I’ll still graduate, right? Even if I can’t fly for the Regulars, I can freelance. I hear they’re looking for ore runners in Dabih. I hear they’ve got pirates.”

“Yeah, there’s the occasional pirate attack, but most of the time it’s following a set flight plan. You think obeying safety rules is dull, try flying the same route day after day for the next forty years.” The Commandant leveled his gaze at Luken. “Besides, you’re here on a government grant. You don’t get a license to freelance unless you pay it back or serve six years.”

Luken’s face fell. “You mean I can’t fly? But sir!”

“I’m not finished, Cadet! You’re not cut out for the Regulars, but you can still serve the Survey Corps. There are generally no rules of engagement to break, because you’re the only ship in the system. Especially in this case. You’re about to volunteer for the Sol survey.”

“Sol? Never heard of it.”

“Not many folks outside of our Government and the Office of the Mediator have, but that’s about to change. It’s officially a protectorate of Deneb, though the inhabitants of Sol III don’t know it. It was a penal colony about twelve thousand years ago. After an uprising, the Deneb Fleet bombed them into the Stone Age. Literally. Every piece of technology was destroyed, and contact was severed.”

“That seems kind of harsh, Sir.”

“They broke the rules.”

Luken smiled. “I like them already. But if it’s been twelve thousand years, why are they still being isolated? That seems unfair to the descendants.”

“They built nukes, Zaio.”

Realization dawned. “O-o-oh. So they were total outcasts. Why survey them now?”

“You said it yourself, Zaio. Why should they continue to be isolated for crimes they don’t even remember? They’ve built a civilization. Several, actually. Our interest is in learning whether or not they’re ready to become a part of the galactic community again. They’ve shown promise over the last century, but they had a major setback some years ago, when the whole planet went to war.”

“Over what?”

“It’s hard to say. Prejudices, perhaps, or allocation of their finite planetary resources. They haven’t even achieved space flight yet.”

“Primitive. So what am I going to be doing?”

“Watching. Monitoring their communications. Learning about their politics.”

“Humph. It sounds dull.”

“It probably is. But you’re going to volunteer for it, all the same, because you’re never getting into the Fleet until you’ve learned to behave.”

Luken grumbled. “I think I’d rather run ore from Dabih.”

Ada Stein

“I don’t want to go to Poland, Mama! I like it here! I don’t want to live in a city.”

Ada’s mother sighed. “It’s becoming too dangerous here, child. The government has passed more laws against our people.”

“What kind of laws, Mama?”

“I can’t bear to repeat them. It’s as if our very existence is offensive to them. Perhaps it is. But we have to leave. It’s going to be dangerous to stay here.”

“When can we come back?”

“Once we leave the country, we can’t come back. Not as long as these laws exist. Maybe we’ll be safe in Poland, or maybe we’ll have to keep travelling until we find a safe place. We can’t stay here.”

Ada sat for a moment. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, after dark. It’s too dangerous to move in the daytime. We’re going to have to leave most of our things behind. Pack a small bag.”

---

That night, Ada and her family left their home behind and began hiking toward the border.

“I hope it’s not already too late,” said Ada’s father. “Even as I was coming home, I saw people I didn’t recognize. They carried clubs and looked… hostile.”

“Did they notice you?”

Her father shook his head. “I kept my head down and walked away. I think that there is to be a demonstration tonight.”

In the distance, they could hear shouting and screaming.

Ada looked back. “Papa, the sky is glowing!”

“They are setting fires. We must keep moving. Don’t look back again, Ada. Remember Lot’s wife.”

“Yes, Papa.”

---

They reached the border crossing by midnight. Ada’s father showed the guards their passports, and a large bill.

The guard looked at the passports, and at the bill. “You will not be allowed back, Jew.”

“We understand, sir. We seek no trouble.”

“You are trouble.”

Ada’s father slowly reached into his pocket and produced another large bill. “This is all that I have. Please, let us pass.”

The guard drew his pistol and pointed it at Ada’s father. “Do you think you can buy freedom?”

Ada closed her eyes as the guard pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked. The chamber was empty.

The guard laughed and put the pistol away. “It would have been a waste of a bullet. And I would have had to clean up the mess.” He took the bills, putting one in his pocket and giving the other to his partner. “Pass.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Ada never looked back as they walked into Poland. “I don’t think we’ll be safe here, either, Papa.”

The Survey Corps

Luken had the rare distinction of graduating at the top of his class both in victory points and in demerits for insubordination. He was the first ever valedictorian to be rejected by the Regular Denebian Fleet.

“I warned you this would happen,” said the Commandant. “You’re the most instinctive pilot we’ve ever trained, but your attitude is terrible. Congratulations on your award… and I’m sorry.”

Luken shrugged. “At least I can fight pirates in Dabih, or maybe Cygnus.”

“There’s still the Survey Corps.”

“I told you, that sounds dull. I want adventure!”

“Charting unexplored systems doesn’t sound adventuresome to you?”

“Sol isn’t an unexplored system.”

“It might as well be. Do this without a major screw-up, and you’ll probably get more interesting missions.”

“First contact kind of missions?”

“Oh, by the One, I hope not. With your record of ignoring protocol, you might well start a war, or worse.”

“What could be worse than starting a war?”

“I’ll leave that up to your imagination.”

A tall blue man came toward them. Luken recognized him as the Mediator, Dok Fil. “Good afternoon, Commandant. Is this the man you recommended to me?”

“He is, Mediator. I’ve tried to convince him, but he’d rather run ore.”

Dok Fil smiled. “Survey Corps too dull for you, Mr. Zaio?”

“No offense intended, sir.”

“No offense is taken. Walk with me, if you would. Good day, Commandant.”

Luken tried to match step with Dok Fil, but he was no match for the Aldebaran’s long stride. He managed to keep up, but just barely.

“I am quite interested in your case. Your record indicates that you could very well be one of the most talented pilots the Denebian Fleet has ever seen.”

“Yes, sir, I hear that often.”

“The proper protocol would be to address me as Mediator. But I understand that protocol is not your strongest asset, is it?”

“I’ve been told that often, too, sir… um, Mediator.”

“Ah, so you can learn. Why don’t you, then?”

“Protocol doesn’t really interest me, Mediator. It seems like people are pretending to respect one another, when they really don’t.”

“That is often too true. I often have to treat people courteously, when I personally regard them as idiots.”

Luken laughed. “I never would have expected the Mediator to call anyone an idiot.”

“Not to their face, anyway. Never to anyone in the media, either. I learned that lesson the hard way when I was younger and more rash than I am today. I’ve had several decades to learn better. Someday, even you might see some value in… pretending… to respect someone you think is an idiot.”

“I didn’t realize the Survey Corps was a branch of the Office of the Mediator.”

“Strictly speaking, it’s not, but we have a responsibility to oversee all systems’ interactions with primitive cultures. Every culture has certain universal rights, whether or not they belong to the Union, or even whether or not they have achieved space flight. Self-determination is foremost among them.”

“So no one can swoop down and enslave anyone, right?”

“Precisely. I believe that your disregard of certain rules stems from your desire to determine your own path. If you see a proper course of action, you pursue it, even if you’ve been ordered not to.”

“Yes, that’s it, exactly!”

“Are you willing to defend the rights of all others to do the same?”

Luken nodded. “I think so.”

“Then I’m willing to endorse your application to the Denebian Survey Corps.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means that you’ll probably be given your own vessel to command, in spite of your record of insubordination. It also means that my reputation will be at stake should you do anything too rash.”

“Is that wise? I mean, I’ve got a record.”

“Wise? Perhaps not, but I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s no fun to only do wise things.” Dok Fil stopped walking to look directly at Luken. “Doing what is wise is not the same thing as doing what is good and right, and sometimes doing the right thing requires disobeying orders.”

“Don’t let the Commandant hear you say that!”

The Mediator smiled. “He can’t say it himself, but he firmly agrees with me. He would not have recommended you to me otherwise. We’re counting on you to always choose to do what’s right, even if it seems to go against orders.”

“I’m honored, Mediator. I won’t let you down.”

In the Ghetto

Ada huddled with her parents in their tiny room in an overcrowded apartment in Warsaw. Instead of a safe haven, they had encountered still more persecution. They were herded, along with countless other Jews, into a run-down section of a city that itself wasn’t much to look at, as far as she was concerned.

“How long must we stay here?” Ada’s mother asked.

Her father looked at the wall. “I don’t know, my love. We can try to move on, find another city, cross into another country.”

“There is no safe country for our people, is there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Tomorrow I will try to find work. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

Ada closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

---

In the morning, her father was already gone. Her mother sat talking in whispers with the other women in the apartment.

“How old is your daughter?”

“Almost seventeen. She would have been starting her last year of school this year.”

“Mine is fourteen. It has been over a year since she went to school.”

“What can we do?”

“Protect our children. Make them look younger, so the soldiers might not…” The woman closed her eyes and trailed off. “We can cut their hair, make them look like boys, but then they might be sent to a work camp. There is no good place to be.”

“Should we leave?”

“There is no place to go. Here we stay, until they decide to move us somewhere else.”

“This is no way to live.”

---

Father came home late, tired and dirty. “They make us work in the factories, building I don’t know what. Machines for the Nazis, I think. Some of the men sabotage the work so they won’t function, but that is dangerous. One man was caught today. They took him outside and shot him.”

“That’s terrible!” Ada’s mother looked around and spoke more softly. “Should we try to go away?”

“The soldiers watch the roads, now. We won’t get far. We’ll just have to wait until things change.”

“And what if they don’t?”

Ada’s father didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought.”

A Close Call

Luken flew his cloaked scout ship over a battlefield. “War is not pretty, is it?”

His co-pilot shook his head. “These primitives. Hard to believe they ever once belonged to the Union. What do you suppose they’re fighting over?”

“Land. Food. Money. Hate, mostly. The man with the funny-looking mustache is full of it.”

“I don’t really understand what he says. My German isn’t very good.”

“The language isn’t that hard to understand, Otto. The man is evil. Maybe we should do the world a favor and drop a bomb on him.”

“We don’t have bombs, Captain.”

“No, but we do have a tractor beam. We could easily pick one up from their own airstrip. It would be easy, I think.”

“I hope you’re kidding, sir. We’re not allowed to assassinate heads of State.”

Luken sighed. “I’m not a murderer, but I can’t stand the man. The scary part is how many people seem to rally behind him. This whole country is pretty sick.”

“Should we go check out another continent?”

“The majority of the fighting is here. I think this is the sort of thing the Survey Corps is most interested in, how the people here treat each other. This is where they seem to be at their worst. Let’s land in that field over there. I want to see if we can borrow a land vehicle and tour the area up close.”

“That’s highly irregular, sir.”

Luken nodded. “I know, but I want to meet some of these Terrans.”

“What if we’re arrested?”

“As long as we keep our heads down, we won’t be.”

“How are we going to borrow a vehicle, then?”

---

Luken and Otto strode down the main street wearing grey business suits and hats. Most people paid them no mind, as though they were simply tourists.

One police officer stopped them. “You are new to this town, yes? Papers, please.”

Luken glanced at Otto and patted down his pockets. “Oh, dear, I seem to have misplaced them. My wallet, too. I think I may have been robbed!”

Otto followed his lead. “My wallet’s gone, too, sir.”

The officer looked at Otto. “Sir?”

Luken smiled. “Apologies. My friend and I are not very good at speaking the language. What would be the proper term when addressing a policeman?”

“I thought he was talking to you.”

Luken laughed. “Oh, no, if he was talking to me, he would have used my name. I am Luken Zaio. This is Otto Horne.”

“Where are you from? Are you Americans?”

“Yes. Yes, we are. We came to Europe to see the sights.”

“In the middle of a war?” The officer shook his head. “Americans. We get very few tourists, here. Perhaps you should tour Berlin, or Hamburg.”

“Ah, excellent suggestion! We will, straightaway.”

“You have no papers.”

“Yes, it seems they were stolen. Is there any way you can help us get, um, new ones?”

The officer looked confused. “My job is not to give papers. I check to see if you have them!”

“And where can we get new papers, then?”

“You don’t understand. If you have no papers, I must arrest you.”

Luken shrugged. “I guess you must do what you have to do. I wish you wouldn’t. It wasn’t our fault our papers were stolen. You just can’t trust anyone, these days.”

The officer looked about to say something when a whistle blew and several young boys ran past, being chased by police. He began to shout and joined the chase. A few seconds later, gunshots echoed off the buildings.

Luken and Otto walked as casually as they could until they were out of sight, then they ran back to their ship, stopping only to make sure no one followed.

“Well, that could have gone better, sir.”

“It could have gone far worse, too. I think we might want to see about getting papers before we try that again, Otto.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. Sir.”

Papers

Ada awoke to the sound of loud pounding on the door. Her mother was getting dressed, and her father had already left for work. “What’s happening, Mama?”

“Get dressed, quickly,” her mother said. “There are soldiers in the ghetto. Mrs. Cohen says that the Germans have invaded Poland. We may be evacuating.”

“Without Papa?”

“He will find us. Just do as you’re told, child.”

---

Ada and her mother stepped out into chaos. Nazi soldiers were rousting people out of their apartments and barking orders at them. Anyone who moved too slowly was kicked and beaten. One old woman stumbled and twisted her ankle. When she stood, her face was twisted in pain. Ada was sure the ankle was broken, but the soldiers showed no pity.

The woman limped for about a block, but it was clear that she was never going to be able to keep up with the others. She stumbled again and fell. She tried to stand again, but her leg could no longer bear weight.

Two women helped her get up and half-carried her down the street, but even that wasn’t quick enough for the soldiers. One drew his pistol.

Ada hid her face in her mother’s coat and covered her ears as three shots rang out.

“Don’t look back, child,” her mother said. “You don’t need to see.”

---

Prodded by the soldiers, the ghetto’s occupants marched to a train station, where thousands of people stood in lines. Soldiers separated the men from the women. Ada tried to see if her father was with the men, but they were all too densely crowded to see anyone.

“Papers,” said a soldier at a desk.

Ada’s mother handed him their passports and identification.

He looked at them, then handed them back and pointed. When they didn’t move right away, he looked at the guards and they cocked their rifles.

Ada and her mother quickly went in the direction the man pointed.

Another soldier was guiding women onto a freight car. When the car looked full, he shoved a few more women in before ordering the doors sealed.

The man halted Ada and said, “You wait. This train is full.”

“But my mother is already on the train.”

“I said you wait!” The guards raised their guns.

Ada stepped back and the guards relaxed. She watched in silence as the train slowly pulled out of the station. In all her life, Ada had never felt so lost and alone.

Rules be Damned

“If we’re going to be able to move freely about on the surface, we’re going to need proper credentials. Any suggestions how we go about getting them?”

Otto shrugged. “My suggestion is we just don’t do that again. We’re not supposed to make First Contact without orders.”

“This is not a First Contact system,” Luken retorted. “This is a penal colony. It’s a Denebian Protectorate.”

“Too bad we’re out of Res Net range in this system. We could call HQ for instructions.”

“We could stun a soldier and borrow his papers. Use them as a template to forge our own.”

“Sir! Forging credentials is most certainly unethical.”

“Don’t talk to me about ethics in this lunatic asylum. Forcing an entire ethnic group to wear badges proclaiming their inferiority is unethical. So is requiring citizens to carry credentials just to walk around a public street. So is gunning down a bunch of youths just because they’re running. I’ve seen nothing ethical since we’ve landed! So if I can find a way to forge credentials that might allow me to make sense of this place, then by the One, I’m going to do it, and rules be damned!”

“It’s your mission, Captain. I’m just here to be the voice of reason.”

Luken calmed his voice. “And you’re doing a fine job of it, Otto. I’ll note your objections in the log. That should insulate you from any disciplinary actions we face when we get home.”

Otto gave him a half-smile. “That doesn’t exactly give me much comfort, sir.”

---

They waited for dark to leave the ship. This time, they carried stun weapons with them, and kept to the shadows.

“If they can cloak ships, I wonder why they can’t design a personnel cloak,” said Otto. “Survey missions like this would be easier if we could avoid detection altogether. If we were supposed to be doing this, that is.”

“That’s a good idea. We can make a request when we get back. See if anyone knows how to make one.”

A woman screamed somewhere nearby. Luken and Otto both shrank into the shadows.

“Do you think someone saw us, Captain?”

“Not likely but stay alert.”

Heading toward the source of the sound, they came across two soldiers and a young girl. From the torn state of her clothing, Luken guessed what they had just done to her. She was crying and trying to cover her nakedness. Without batting an eye, one of the soldiers pulled out his pistol and shot her.

Luken nodded to Otto and they stunned both of the soldiers. While Otto searched them for their papers, Luken examined the girl. “Damn it all. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Too bad we didn’t get here sooner. We could have saved her.”

“My sister is sixteen, Captain. These bastards deserve to be castrated for this.” He held up a pair of wallets. “I’ve got their papers. What now?”

“Bind them. Make sure they can’t leave. Let them be discovered next to this poor girl they violated. If there is any justice in this damned country, let them be tried by it.”

“I wish we could give her a decent burial,” said Otto, “but I think you’re right.”

They placed flowers next to the girl’s body. Next to the soldiers, Luken wrote a word in the dirt.

“What’s that mean?” asked Otto.

“It’s German for ‘rapists.’ Maybe it’ll send a message to the other soldiers that this kind of behavior won’t be tolerated. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Help From Above

Ada would have paced the floor if there was room to move. The freight car had been moving for…how long? She had no way of knowing. No one had any timepieces, or any other jewelry, either. The soldiers had taken anything of value. The car stank of sweat, feces, and urine. Some women were crying, others were praying. A few were doing both.

A woman next to Ada kept prying at the wooden slats on the walls. She had been at it so long that her fingers were bloody, but there was a sliver of light showing through. A few moments more and there might be at least a small opening through which to get some fresh air.

“Let me help,” said Ada.

Together, they pushed and pulled. “I can feel movement,” said the woman. “It’s getting looser. If only I could get a running start.”

Their efforts eventually paid off. A slat fell away, and a wave of cold air washed over Ada. She took a few deep breaths before other women detected the opening and pushed their way over to it. Ada and her comrade lost their space, pushed by the throng into the center of the car.

“At least we got a few breaths,” Ada said.

The woman didn’t answer. All Ada could hear was gasping breaths. She turned to see the woman clutching her chest. Whether she was having an attack or had suffered broken ribs, Ada couldn’t tell, but she couldn’t breathe. Ada watched helplessly as her breathing became more labored, then ceased altogether. As tightly packed as they were, she couldn’t even slump to the floor.

Ada said goodbye to her friend and turned away so as not to stare at death. She wondered how many dead were in the car. “Perhaps we’re all dead already, as far as the world knows. Or cares.”

---

The freight car stopped moving.

At first, Ada hoped that maybe they had reached their destination, but no one came to open the door. Perhaps the train had just stopped for the night.

If it was night. Ada couldn’t tell.

“If there is a God up there… and after what I have witnessed, I cannot say it is so… have pity on us. We are supposed to be your people.”

Sleep would not come easily, but Ada closed her eyes anyway.

---

Movement woke her.

“Is the train moving again?” Ada looked around.

A woman near the opening screamed. “We are in the air! The ground is gone! What does this mean?”

“Maybe it’s a crane,” said another. “Perhaps they are going to drop us!”

Every woman had her own opinion what was happening, and each theory was more frightening than the last.

Ada shook her head. “What does it matter? If we die, we die. I hope it’s quick, at least.”

The women by the opening began shouting again. “We are on the ground!”

“I didn’t feel us hit,” said Ada.

“Be quiet!” said another woman. “All of you! Someone is coming!”

They all held their breath. There was a strange noise, unlike anything Ada had heard before, followed by the sound of the padlocks falling off of the doors.

The women closest to the doors backed away as they slid open.

A man called to them in oddly accented German. “Um, it is safe. You can come out. We landed the box in Denmark. It’s safe for you… relatively. There’s a town nearby, but you’ll have to walk. Sorry.”

The two men helped them down and out of the cars, then carried the several dead bodies out of the car. One of them spoke to the other in a language Ada didn’t recognize and they looked around.

Ada pointed. “She was my friend.”

One of the men nodded. “I’m sorry. What was her name?”

Ada sat on the ground. “I… don’t know. Who are you?”

“We’re, um, travelers.”

“You look like soldiers, but I don’t know your uniforms. Are you American?”

“Uh, no. We’re from a bit… further.”

The other man spoke at him sharply in the strange language.

“Excuse me, but if you’re going to talk about me, at least have the courtesy to speak German!”

The first man laughed. “You’re absolutely right. Otto’s upset that I might tell you too much.” He looked around. “All the others have scattered already. Why haven’t you run?”

“She was my friend.”

“You don’t even know her name,” said the other man, Otto.

Ada shrugged. “Names don’t matter when you are considered cattle.”

“My name is Luken. Luken Zaio. What’s yours, Miss?”

“Ada. Ada Stein. Where did you come from?”

“I’m not sure you’d believe me.”

“Are you a messenger from above?”

Luken gasped. “What? How did you…”

“You are from above? Sent from The Lord?” Ada fell to her knees.

“Um, no, not that kind of above. We are just men. Human, like you.”

Ada stood again. “Yet you came when I called. You will help me, yes?”

Luken looked back at Otto, who rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Um, I thought we already did help you.”

“My parents are lost. My father was at work, and my mother was on another train. You will help me find them, yes?”

Luken shrugged. “I may already be in a heap of trouble for lifting the rail car in the first place. What do you think, Otto?”

“I think it’s your decision, Captain. I’ll not be any part of it. On the other hand, they can only hang you once, right?”

“Good point.” Luken smiled at Ada. “I guess you’re with me, then.”

Rules of Engagement will be concluded in Part 2