Shana repeated, for what she felt must have been the tenth time in the past few days, “That was also so, when the Reeshians were taken in as another human clan fifty years ago.”
“Yes, but our culture had already had space travel before human contact,” said Zak, the only full Reeshian among them. “Though, granted, it had been lost for, what, almost three thousand years? Still; our people still had some record of space travel and accepted its existence readily. This is considerably different.”
“Not that different—at least, the Untrans seem to accept our existence with ease,” Elton said.
Captain Duncan, who had up to this point not said a word, spoke up. “I believe this is an occasion for a serious debate. We are definitely out of bounds here, but then with this new mode of transportation, I’m not so sure that the original rules need or even can apply. It’s not as if there will be any real association with our home worlds for a long time, and planets that are close to Earth standard are at such a premium. Who can say how many more jumps it will take before we find another suitable planet, if ever? It seems as if any planet where human life can exist has already evolved intelligent life on some level—so the rules might be impossible to comply with unless we decide to turn around and return to Earth, not that we know how at the moment. And who knows how many more jumps you can survive? It’s been impossible to make any real assessment as to the long term effects non-space jumps are having on us. At least here the people already have a complex society, and, although I think we must avoid the hubris of thinking that we have the authority to control their rate of growth, I believe we can introduce advances slowly enough to catch areas of concern before they arise and keep damage to a minimum.”
The entire crew stared at Cap, dumfounded, for a whole minute before anyone was capable of responding, as surprised as they were at this speech. Gemma had a very satisfied look on her face, as if pleased that he had exerted his opinion himself, separate from hers. The crew tended to think of them as one entity, which was fair as Gemma so often interacted with them as a spokesperson for both.
The natives were watching the conversation with interest, but lack of understanding, wondering, perhaps, whether the topic of discussion had anything to do with them. As a matter of fact, some of them looked a little disconcerted by the communication that seemed to exclude or discount them.
Elton was the first one to speak. “I think that assessment stands pretty solid and any further discussion, if we feel we must yet again rehash it, should be done on the ship; can’t you see the Untrans are worried?”
The crew looked around at them and realized that he was correct.
They each singled out an Untran and began halting conversations with them each having assistance from Gemma. Some returned their smiles immediately, while others continued to look concerned. Quick action was needed to dispel any growing distrust, so it was decided that this was a good time to hand out gifts. They had brought cooking pots and beaded necklaces, utensils to use with the cookware, flint and fire steels, a magnetic compass (with a star symbol marking the magnetic “north” of Untra), candles, and a sample or two of shirts and pants—rustic blue jeans so they’d take whatever wear they’d be subjected to. (They had decided against more interesting gifts until they had an opportunity to observe the Untrans more fully.)
The crew had to demonstrate the use of most of the items, which pulled them further into the temporary camp, until they were surrounded by the Untrans, everyone talking and trying to communicate, comfortably, as if they were simply new neighbors, and not strangers from different star systems.
The Untrans loved the clothing, and covetous looks were cast upon those who had received plaid flannel shirts in red and blue. It was difficult to make the Untrans understand that these were just a few samples, and that more could be made, in different sizes, and that the Untrans could even learn to make them themselves. Gemma’s language skills improved quickly as the day wore on and she was exposed to more words and patterns, and she was able to help translate sufficiently that Shana began to feel the entire experiment was going to be a great success. She caught herself looking at Elton, who was crouched on the ground with Krenek and Bard, talking excitedly, using Untran words when he could, drawing in the dirt (it looked like the solar system to her). All three were nodding and Krenek was talking just as much as Elton was. Shana couldn’t help but smile. Elton glanced up, as if sensing her gaze, and stopped for a moment, looking at her. She blushed and turned away quickly, then blushed more when she realized how silly her actions must appear. She turned to the skank nearest to her and listened as she explained something to Shana having to do with the trees. Shana had no idea what she said, but was thrilled that the woman seemed to want to share her knowledge with her.
It perhaps should not have been surprising that the skanks in the group knew exactly what the kitchen wares were for, and were using them almost as quickly as they were handed out. The pots they liked best were the cauldron style ones they could use without changing their technology, and the larger stirring and serving spoons, all of which had handles that would never get hot (although the skanks had not yet figured that out). Shana hoped they’d discover that feature when she was there to see their expressions.
Bard had grown tired of Elton and Krenek’s apparently endless enthusiasm to talk to each other, and was standing, observing the others, arms crossed. Pixie moved over to Elton and Krenek, and Krenek leapt up excitedly, making a big deal of giving her his place—although he had only been crouching on the ground. She graciously crouched in his place and listened in as the others talked. Krenek and Elton spoke rapidly, each in their own language, with Elton mixing in Untran words where he could, explaining about Earth, Reesh, and Prometheus; although Pixie thought Krenek couldn’t understand any of it. Krenek responded in kind, explaining about, as far as they could tell, his world and what he thought of Wanderer. Krenek kept grabbing Pixie’s hand and talking directly to her, as if to keep her involved in the conversation. The familiarity was amusing to her, and she found herself becoming fond of the young hunter.
Bard, standing not far off, watched the three of them for a moment, then turned away, scanning the rest of the scene, finally resting his gaze on Kelsan, thoughtfully. His expression was mild, benign, but his eyes locked on the laze pistol, and stayed there for a long time.
Gemma noted this, and mentioned it quietly to Shana over the comm. “Sooner or later that will have to be dealt with, diplomatically of course. Whatever else we share, I don’t want to give them weapons, even if they only plan to use them to hunt.”
Shana nodded, barely perceptibly, so Gemma knew she heard. They’d need better translating before they could negotiate terms of continued assistance, and establishment of a nearby colony, she thought, but that might not take all that long. Gemma’s vocabulary was growing rapidly.
As clothes were so popular, Pixie took down notes estimating people’s sizes, so they could provide items of clothing for everyone in the temporary camp on the next meeting. The Untrans didn’t seem to have any problem figuring out how to wear the jeans, though Zak had to show them how to strip the fly closed. They gave Zak a hard look when they saw him up close, with his rounded ears and three-fingered hands, and short pink hair. They examined his hands, particularly, with interest, but did not seem put out by his alien appearance any more than they were by the rest of the crew, or the holograms. They were easy-going people, to say the least, and Shana could see the crew had already won over most of the natives with their gifts, the likes of which she was sure they had never even imagined. As evening came along and the Untrans began their cooking fires, the Wanderer’s crew returned to their ship to review the success of this meeting and discuss the next step.
Shana said, “They seem wonderfully peaceful. I wonder what their relations with neighboring tribes are like? It appears based on their reaction to us that they would be peaceable; but on the other hand, it’s said, “familiarity breeds contempt”. Where they mi
ght be friendly with us because we are a novelty, there may be rivalries with more familiar peoples.”
“Until we know that, we can’t know how safe it is to provide them with anything that can be used as a weapon; we don’t want to upset the balance of power in the area until we know more about what that balance is.” Kelsan agreed.
Elton asked, thoughtfully, “What if we find that our tribe here is in conflict with some other tribe? Would we not take their side?” He looked up at the others around the table. No one answered.
Shana, after a moment, said, “Gemma, how far have you gotten in translating? Can we put together enough language to ask clear questions about their friends and enemies?”
“I’m still processing,” Gemma answered, “but I believe I can put together the questions you ask for. However, I think we need to go and meet some of the other tribes as well, to be sure we have an accurate picture.”
“You think they would lie to us?” Asked Elton.
“No, why would anyone lie in self-interest?” Kelsan sneered sarcastically.
Shana scowled and refused to respond to Kelsan’s comment. Instead, she asked Gemma, “Can we be ready to quiz the Untrans after we eat? I mean, in an hour or two?”
“I’m certain I can make the language work; and that Kelsan will have the adequate ability to tell the difference between truth and lies in their responses,” Gemma said.
“Hold everything,” interrupted Tanya, sounding concerned, a disturbed look on her face as she surveyed her control panel.
“What’s wrong, Tanya?” Shana asked, startled.
“I’ve just done a DNA scan on some blood from the lion Pixie shot. I got some on my shoe and thought it was a good chance to do a basic medical scan to compare with our mammals. The results aren’t good.”
“What do you mean, ‘not good?’” asked Shana, a little annoyed at the ambiguity. “Can you be a little more precise?”
“What I mean is that, in spite of appearances, the DNA isn’t even close to anything I’ve ever seen. It’s not a mammal. It’s not like any kind of life as we know it,” she concluded.
“How different?” Asked Kelsan, concerned. “This is a carbon planet; the animals must have evolved the same way we did.”
Tanya shook her head. “The DNA samples are unidentifiable; they don’t match anything in our database. Not just that it’s a different species than we’ve seen before. It’s a different . . .” she seemed to search for the right word. “Strain?”
“What about the Untrans?” Pixie asked.
Tanya shrugged. ”We’re going to need to get blood or tissue samples from our new friends to see if their DNA is compatible with ours—or more like the lion’s. Before we decide to mingle our societies we should know if there’s any chance that we can make it work.”
“Well, how are we going to get one of the Untrans to let us take a blood sample?” Shana asked, of nobody in particular.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Elton looked particularly troubled, thinking of this new wrinkle in their plans. With the Untrans’ appearance being so human, it hadn’t dawned on any of them that they were anything other than humans, the same as they were. If they were not, it could possibly change everything. They might be able to integrate, of course, but it would by no means be certain, and differences in biology could suggest greater distinctions as the society evolved. They couldn’t stay if it would be bad for the Untrans, and settling where there would be two societies that were forced to segregate would be asking for trouble, if not now, then in the future.
“Are you suggesting that we may not be able to stay here?” Asked Pixie, finally, looking near to tears. “We’ll have to jump again?”
“Maybe,” Tanya said grimly, “and quickly, if I’m right. We’ll want to have as little effect on the Untran culture as possible, if we’re not staying. Perhaps, after a few generations, we will merely be a part of their mythology.”
“But it’s such a beautiful place, and so much like home should be,” Pixie said sorrowfully.
“Not if we’re not compatible with the people,” said Shana, feeling equally disturbed by the idea of leaving the Untrans as by the prospect of having to hunt for another world.
“They are so much like us,” Elton said. His face was impassive, but Shana could tell that he was agitated.
“We’ll have to see if we can convince Krenek to let us take a DNA sample,” suggested Tanya. “He seems the most trusting, and brave enough to approach us on his own. He seemed to like Pixie; I think she could get him to do it. We can decide our course of action based on the results.”
“Ok, we have a plan of attack at least,” said Shana. “The big question is; what if we don’t have a match?”
Elton spoke up, hopefully. “Why can’t we just set up our colony on some uninhabited part of the planet if we’re not compatible? I mean, it’ll be years before we have to deal with the native population that way.”
Kelsan looked irritated. “It’s not our planet! We have no right to just take it. If we can’t integrate with their society, the differences between us would eventually prevail over any good intentions. Our offspring could become patronizing controllers, or worse, slave masters, because of our technology. The Untrans would always feel inferior and it would in all likelihood, end in bloodshed.”
Shana said, “We aren’t like that, and neither are they. And we could still share technology and create a community even if there’s no chance of propagating with them, generations down the road.” But Kelsan just shook his head at her as if she was too naïve to warrant a response.
Pixie said, “I know we decided that the directive doesn’t apply to us, as it appears that no matter where we land we’re going to have to interfere with some culture, but maybe in this case we really should try to honor the spirit of the directive.” She sounded more aggressive than usual.
“Aren’t we putting the horse before the cart here?” questioned Zak. “I think we need to run the tests before we begin disputing our right to be here, even if we turn out to be a genetic match.”
“Alright then; first things first,” said Pixie. “I’ll try to get Krenek to let me get some samples and then we’ll debate the issue when we know what the issue is.” She nodded matter-of-factly.
“I suggest we have some dinner and then go out and spend a little more time with the tribe while we get samples, then make our decision accordingly,” said Shana with finality.
They settled down to a leisurely meal and tried to avoid conjecture about their situation. They used the meal as a time out, to keep their anxiety and disagreements from getting blown out of proportion.
Interestingly; Gemma and the Captain never showed themselves while they ate, and Shana always felt that perhaps they felt it made them feel like outsiders since they couldn’t join in. She would have to ask Gemma sometime.
By the time they were done eating it had started to get cloudy and the first drops of rain were beginning to fall. They decided to wait for the rain to end before going back out, but rather enjoyed watching the Untrans battening down their camp on the view screen. It looked like they were expecting the weather to be fairly violent. The Wanderer’s crew hadn’t experienced a real storm on this planet and so didn’t know what to expect. It didn’t take too long to find out what it was like. The wind picked up to about forty MPH and the rain was torrential. It was probably close to two inches of rain per hour. They saw neither head nor tail of the natives until the rain and wind let up. It was surprising how sturdy their little makeshift shelters were. Not one blew down, and the rain didn’t end until almost dawn.
Even though they felt perfectly safe, with Gemma and Cap guarding the ship, the crew didn’t sleep well with the decisions hanging over them. Most of the night was spent tossing and turning and waiting for morning to get answers to their many questions. Morning found a group of tired and grumpy individuals and they were all short tempered over breakfast.
“I’m detecting very little activity ov
er at the native camp,” Gemma announced, interrupting the conjectural exchanges that were taking place. “I can see Oosah, the healer woman, making rounds to each of the shelters. I think there’s some sort of trouble stirring.”
They exchanged questioning looks.
“Can you tell anything more specific?” asked Shana when nobody else spoke.
“Very little,” said Gemma. “There are only a couple of the Untrans in sight and they seem confused and slow-moving, quite unlike yesterday.” She sounded concerned and uncharacteristically confused.
“Well I guess we’d best check it out, but we’d better be prepared for a fast getaway if Oosah’s stirring them up against us,” said Shana, feeling a sudden unexplainable anger toward the Untran medicine woman. “Gemma, can you bring the ship to us if we come under attack?”
“Better than that,” Gemma answered reassuringly. “I can give you cover fire if need be. But I have a feeling that will not be the issue.” This enigmatic statement was not expounded upon.
“If you don’t mind,” said Pixie, “I’d like to stay here; I’m not feeling well this morning. I think Elton could get Krenek to give him a blood sample. But I’ll come if you think I should.”
Shana looked over at Pixie and noticed for the first time that, in fact she didn’t look good. Her eyes looked reddened and her complexion was flushed. Tanya stood up and pulled the medical kit off the wall. She pulled out the scanner and Pixie snapped, “Get that thing away from me!”
Tanya was taken aback by the scowl on Pixie’s face; Pixie herself looked startled by her reaction. “I’m sorry,” Pixie said, confused. “I guess I’m feeling worse than I thought.”
Tanya didn’t respond, but ran the scanner over Pixie carefully.
“She’s definitely ill,” she announced. “Her heart rate is over one hundred and she’s got a fever.” She pulled out some aspirin and handed it to Pixie, who took it dutifully.
“Get a blood sample for analysis,” said Gemma.
Starborn Odyssey: Voyage of the Lost (The Starborn Odyssey Trilogy Book 3) Page 10