Why did they kill the bug aliens if they are in league with them?
"Keep moving," her feline captor said from behind her, causing her to file that question away with the million others she had gathered thus far. Now that they were under the lights of the hangar, Rebecca risked a glance behind her to get a better look at the strange alien that was her escort. The room's harsh bright lamps revealed that the creature's coarse short hair had a dark brown, slightly golden hue, while its cape-like skinfolds were almost black, reminding her somewhat of the wings of a bat. Sensing her perusal, it pointed toward a door along the wall and gave her a prodding shove with one of its massive clawed hands. Not wishing to provoke the large creature, she readily complied.
She was led through one of the many doors located around the edges of the hangar. The corridor beyond had the same hurried, unfinished look as the previous room; its walls, floor, and ceiling were rough and ran at odd angles, like some kind of odd mine shaft. At the end of the passage, they came to a larger corridor that intersected their current route at a sharp angle. They turned left and followed this new passage up a slight incline toward a large metal door that was guarded by a burly alien of a species that Rebecca had not yet encountered.
The guard was covered nearly from head to foot with spikes that protruded from its muscular armored hide. Its two human-like arms were not attached directly at the shoulders. The left arm was nearly at shoulder height but stuck out from the creature's upper chest, right where a human body would house the heart. The right arm was much lower, sticking out from the enormous alien's side at a weird angle, almost as if it had been broken and never set properly. The alien stood nearly seven feet tall and carried a large weapon similar to a shotgun, which was promptly pointed at Rebecca and her captor.
As they drew near to the being, Rebecca blanched. The creature's face, more than anything she had yet seen on this bizarre planet, unsettled her. Its facial features were arranged asymmetrically. In addition, it had what looked like a second half-formed nose near its chin, a missing left ear, and a deformed mouth that curled down on one side, making it look like it wore an eternal frown.
"Trea cresc ritran?" it asker her escort mechanically.
She could not be certain, but the guard almost seemed surprised at the feline's response. Lowering its weapon, the massive creature turned, opened the door, and stepped aside to allow them entry. Her captor prodded her in the back, but her fear of the giant alien kept her rooted to the spot. When she didn't move, the guard narrowed its mismatched eyes at her. The corner of its twisted face lifted to reveal one of its crooked yellow teeth, clearly drawing pleasure from her discomfort. Growing impatient, the feline alien placed one clawed hand on each of her shoulders and shoved her toward the open doorway.
The spiked guard was still laughing several moments later as she picked herself up off of the floor, her captor standing silently in the doorway they had just entered through. The corridor in which she now found herself looked to be about ten feet across but extending forty-five or fifty feet to the right and left in a more-or-less straight line with doors spaced at various intervals on the inner wall. The ceiling was about twelve feet from the floor, at least, at the highest point. For once again, Rebecca noticed that the architects of this cavern seemed either rather careless or very hurried. The ceiling met the walls at odd angles, and its height varied from place to place. Similar to the hangar and the corridor, the entire passage was dimly lit by the same open bulbs with the wiring running down the wall in a haphazard manner.
Looking around at the drab, colorless walls, it suddenly dawned on her that this entire place seemed completely devoid of wall coverings or furniture, giving her the disconcerting impression that she was walking through some kind of medieval dungeon. Ahead, another plain metal door stood directly across from their entrance.
Stepping fully into the room, her guide shut the door and turned around to face her. Reaching out with lightning-quick speed, it grabbed her firmly with its left claw. With its other hand, it reached into a secret pouch or fold of skin near its body and withdrew a small metallic device, which it brought up near her head. Panic fueled her imagination as a myriad of violent, painful images of torture and death filled her mind. However, just as she was about to scream from fright at her imagined fate, the reptilian feline spoke.
"Calm yourself. This is only an earpiece for the translation unit. It will cause you no pain." With that, the being quickly inserted it into her left ear before she could struggle further. Although it was not a comfortable fit, as promised, it did not hurt. Reaching into another hidden pouch, the creature brought forth a small black box about the size of a portable radio that was connected to a leather belt. Without hesitation, it wrapped the belt around her waist and adjusted the fit. As it did so, Rebecca realized for the first time that the creature carried her backpack around its right shoulder. Her fear of immediate pain subsided, allowing her rattled mind to regain a sense of clarity.
"Translator? I...I don't understand. Why do I need a translator if you already speak my language?"
The being looked at her with a bemused smile. "The translator is so that you can understand Breuun when he speaks to you."
Rebecca looked puzzled. "Who is Breuun?"
It looked at her as one looks at an irritating child who just asked a stupid question. "Breuun is the High Crala and leader of Clan Grinath. Do not speak unless spoken to, and when he does speak, I suggest you answer truthfully and quickly. Breuun is not a patient being."
Rebecca ventured one last question that had been disturbing her since she first encountered this alien. "How is it that you understand English?"
The giant creature looked down at her as if trying to decide the right way to phrase a response. "Let us just say that you are not the first human I have encountered."
As the shock of this statement sent Rebecca's mind reeling, her escort opened the door in front of them and pushed her through.
The forward momentum combined with her injured knee sent her stumbling through the opening off balance. She recovered just in time to avoid knocking over a small creature in front of her, which had turned around at the sound of her not-so-graceful entrance. Rebecca took a step backward, a cry rising in her throat at the haunted expression of hopelessness on its hideous and deformed face. But before any sound could escape her lips, she felt a powerful arm grab her shoulder, tighter this time, as if to remind her of the warning spoken just moments before.
Swallowing her repulsion and horror, she looked away from the creature and instead focused her attention on her surroundings. She was standing in what looked to be some kind of large audience chamber. The central part of the room was long and rectangular with a high flat ceiling that reached about sixty feet above the uneven floor. On each of the longest sides of the rectangle were recessed alcoves with a shorter twenty-foot ceiling, each containing an odd assortment of alien species. It was into one of these alcoves that Rebecca and her captor had entered.
The feline alien forced Rebecca back toward the pathetic creature, and for a moment, she thought that she was going to be herded right into the diminutive, rodent-like alien. Yet without a command or sound of any kind, the being and those next to it stepped aside to allow them to pass, their eyes downcast in deferential obedience.
For a split second, Rebecca feared that they would walk right out into the center of the large room. Instead, however, the muscular arms holding onto her shoulders halted her at the very edge of the alcove. From this new vantage point, Rebecca could see the entire length of the room. To their right at the far end stood a set of double doors that were guarded by two armed and armored aliens. Directly in front of her was an identical pair of guards flanking a middle-sized, powerfully built alien that was bathed in a sickly yellowish light coming from a large lamp in the ceiling. She could not see the features of the guards due to their heavy, unadorned metal helmets, but their bodies, like nearly every alien she had thus far encountered, was asymmetrical and l
ooked like some mad scientist's plaything. The features of the alien in the middle, however, were quite clear, and impending doom was written all over its canine-like face. The source of its fear came from a creature that lay perched on a strange stone slide set up on a dais several feet in front of the unfortunate being.
Breuun, High Crala and leader of Clan Grinath, stared down at the prisoner from its "throne," which was flanked on both sides by more helmeted and armored guards. Breuun's features were similar to that of the captive, leaving Rebecca to assume that they were of the same species. Although their general appearance resembled that of a canine with long snouts and pointed ears, their bodies were covered by reptilian scales from which protruded thick dark-colored fur, similar to the feline alien behind her. The way in which it lay on the angled stone slab gave her the distinct impression of a hunting wolf staring down from above at its helpless prey, its powerful claws propping up its torso.
The clan leader may have resembled the other being physically, but its countenance and manner were completely different. Its two largest crooked eyes were alert and hard, while its smaller eye located on the left side of its twisted snout shifted constantly, as if expecting danger to appear at any moment. Its face had the look of one who had been in numerous vicious fights and had healed over, leaving permanent disfigurement; its right eye was half-closed, and its mouth was missing several teeth. Jagged scars also crisscrossed its face, and the scaly fur was patched and thin on the left side of its head. As further proof of its battle-hardened nature, the dull gray metallic armor that covered most of its body from the neck down was dented and worn.
In horrid fascination, Rebecca watched as the clan leader reached over and dipped its right claw into a bowl of thick dark liquid that was promptly provided by another rodent-like servant standing to the side of the throne. Its claw still dripping, it stood up from the stone slab, stepped down from the dais, and strode over to stand within a few feet of the prisoner, its spiked tail dragging on the ground behind it. As it moved, its armor made horrendous scraping sounds that set Rebecca's teeth on edge.
The High Crala growled and snapped its jaws at the captive, its eyes narrowing slightly. A second later, a monotone metallic voice spoke directly into her left ear, startling her. Caught up in the unfolding drama, it took her a moment to realize that the sound was coming from the translator unit that the feline alien had given her.
"You were caught selling Clan Grinath hidden information to Clan V'skir. Do you have things to say in defense?"
The prisoner stood motionless, its limbs trembling visibly in the yellowish light. Its canine face had the appearance of one who knows it is doomed yet is hoping desperately for one last chance. "High Crala, I...please...no...wait..."
Without another word, the clan leader nonchalantly raised its right arm, made a fist, and flicked its fingers at the prisoner. For an instant, Rebecca thought this might have been some kind of hand signal for dismissal had it not been for the quick reflexive jolt that ran through the body of the traitor. A second later, the being gave a gasp and a shutter, then fell over, its body twitching convulsively for a few moments before finally lying still.
Shocked by the brutal scene, Rebecca took several shuddering breaths and fought to maintain her composure. When she turned her gaze back to Breuun, she noticed that two of the long claws on its hand were now missing, causing a new sense of dread to settle on her heart. Without a trace of emotion, it turned and began walking back to its throne as the two guards carried the body away. Unable to tear her gaze away from the alien leader, she watched in horror and utter amazement as it strode back up the dais to the throne, a single eye staring at her from the back of its head!
As it lay back down on its triangular stone slab, it turned its head toward her and snapped its powerful jaws several times, the translation coming a moment later in the same monotone voice. "Sikaris, report," it commanded.
Rebecca's captor urged her forward until they were standing in the same area where the previous captive had been murdered, leaving her feeling like a trapped mouse huddled in front of a prowling cat. Awash in the bright ceiling light, she was nearly blind and slightly disoriented. Squinting, she could just make out the vague outline of Breuun, its body leaning heavily on the incline. Next to her, the being named Sikaris began its requested report in the same guttural tongue that the clan leader had used moments before.
"We found and murdered the V'skir patrol that was given the hidden information by the traitor," came the mechanical translation. "The new eye shields helped us to have a great win. No V'skir escaped, and only two Grinathians were murdered."
"Very good," said the voice beyond the light.
"And more," Sikaris continued, "we found this creature in one of their cages."
There was only silence after this proclamation, then a deep throaty growl that translated as: "What is it?"
"It is not from one of the clans close to us," Sikaris replied. "It may not even be from Ka'esch." At this, murmurs could be heard coming from all corners of the room.
"Can this be a non-lie? How did it come to be here? Are there others?" her translator said in its dry, even tone.
Sikaris stepped forward and stretched out its right claw, offering something to Breuun. "I have made this translator patch for you so that you may talk to it."
The clan leader made a pleased growl and accepted the offered device. Climbing the dais steps, Sikaris stood on Breuun's right and faced Rebecca. Lost and alone, she felt an acute sense of loneliness well up within her. In her darkest of nightmares, she could never have imagined the feeling of standing by herself blinded by a sickly yellow light in the middle of a large room on an alien planet and surrounded by hundreds of hideous, deformed monsters. She grasped her abdomen and retched several times, nearly losing her balance and falling to the floor. Fortunately, she hadn't eaten for several hours, so her stomach had no contents to disgorge. Wake up, Rebecca! Oh, please, let this be a dream! However, no amount of wishing was able to make her stubborn senses relent.
"Stand up," the alien leader snarled.
Calling upon every ounce of will, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and forced herself to stand, knowing that her very life hung in the balance.
"What are you," the metallic voice translated in her ear.
For a moment, Rebecca's throat constricted, and she nervously began cracking her knuckles. Sikaris stared hard at her in warning. Come on, Rebecca! Get it together, or you're dead! Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of two guards approaching to flank her as they had flanked the previous prisoner. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and spoke, her voice quavering but clear.
"My name is Rebecca Evans. I came here from the planet Earth with eight others on a mission of discovery. We...we mean no harm. We...come in peace."
There was silence for a moment as Breuun turned and glanced at Sikaris. "What is 'peace'?" it said as much to Rebecca as to the feline alien.
What is peace? It doesn't even have a word in its language for peace? Even as these thoughts passed through her mind, Sikaris spoke, silencing her inner questioning. "A truce, High Crala."
Breuun nodded in understanding, then turned its attention back to her. "And what is a 'planet Earth'?"
Rebecca paused for a second to figure out how best to phrase her reply. "It is...another world. A...land far away." The dark shadow that was the clan leader sat motionless, apparently not understanding. "We flew here in a ship...a machine...from beyond the sky." She pointed upward to accentuate her words, hoping desperately that they would believe her.
Breuun turned once again to Sikaris and spoke to him quietly so that Rebecca's translator did not pick it up. After a lengthy conversation, the clan leader turned back to face her.
"Where is this machine?" it growled.
Rebecca hesitated. Where's the ship? How far away am I from the landing site? I was unconscious... "I...I don't know," she said truthfully.
Breuun's eyes narrowed. "You lie,"
it said menacingly, although the translation came out dull and without inflection. "And you lie badly." Even as the translator finished the sentence, the clan leader gestured with its clawed hand, and a servant came rushing to its side.
Rebecca felt her knees grow weak, threatening to buckle. In the servant's gnarled hands was an all-too-familiar bowl of dark liquid.
I don't want to die! Rebecca's thoughts became frantic, cluttering her mind and preventing her from thinking clearly. The idea that she had to think of something quickly or die was the very thing that kept her from being able to focus. She stared around nervously, desperate to find some solution, some escape. As she did so, her eyes fell on Sikaris, who was lowering her backpack from its shoulder to the ground.
"Wait!" she yelled, causing Breuun to freeze, its left claw dipped into the bowl. The guards on each side of her twitched nervously. "I know how to find my ship and prove I'm not lying." She pointed to the bag at Sikaris's feet. "Inside my pack is a tracker...um...a device, a machine that will tell me how far my ship is from here. If you let me look at it, I can tell you where it is."
Breuun looked to Sikaris, then nodded as it removed its claw from the bowl and dried it on a towel provided by the servant. Sikaris picked up the backpack, stepped down from the dais, and walked slowly up to Rebecca. It stared deeply into her eyes for a brief moment, its expression unreadable, then it gently emptied the contents of her pack onto the floor in front of her. "Which one," it said in English.
"There," she said, indicating the device.
Sikaris bent and picked up the tracker. "Tell me how to work it. When I am sure it is not a weapon, I will show it to you so that you can read it. Attempt to touch it and you will die."
Rebecca swallowed hard and nodded her understanding, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Absentmindedly cracking her knuckles against her thigh, she proceeded to give instructions. After a moment of examining the readout, Sikaris held the unit up for her to read. The same interference that had been disrupting her crew's instruments since they had entered the atmosphere was still present, but Rebecca's heart leapt into her throat with excitement as she saw the unmistakable yellow dot representing the ship. Smiling, she looked up at Breuun. "It's still where we landed, about one hundred and fifty miles from here. It's on the northeast corner of a mountain range near a lake," she said, hope beginning to swell within her. If only I can find some way to get back to it.
Logic's End Page 5