Logic's End

by Keith Robinson

  The creature's misaligned eyes narrowed, as if it believed she was hiding something. "Yes," it said slowly and deliberately.

  "Wait a minute," Rebecca said at length. "When you described clans, you said that they look alike and have the same ancestor."

  "Yes, yes."

  "But all the creatures I've seen so far on your planet have been very different. And if you rescued me from those bug aliens"—she shivered involuntarily at the memory—"then why did I see one of them here in the vehicle hangar?"

  Prin leaned back, any possible suspicion forgotten as it became once more firmly engrossed in the conversation. "We call ourselves Clan Grinath, but we are really not a clan at all. Those who do not have a clan come here. Other clans pay us to fight for them."

  "Outcasts and mercenaries," Rebecca said in sudden understanding. "How did you...how does...how do you become a member of Clan Grinath?"

  "Most of us become part of this clan when all the rest of our clan are murdered. We come here because there is nowhere else to go. On Ka'esch, if you are clanless, you will die quickly."

  "Ka'esch?"

  The lithe body inclined slightly, as if nodding. "Yes, yes, that is the name of our land."

  "You said 'most' were clanless. What about the rest?"

  Prin looked slightly uncomfortable and folded its arms across its chest. "Some want to join because they are not wanted by their clan."

  "Not wanted? But isn't a clan stronger the more members it has? Why would a clan kick out one of its own?" Rebecca asked, puzzled.

  "Because they broke some law, are sick, or...insane."

  The sudden image of the devilish face cackling with laughter in the rain made Rebecca's blood freeze. Unconsciously, she began to crack her knuckles.

  "Yes, yes," Prin continued. "But there are many good things about having different clans together—we have learned more than any other clan about our land and the other clans around us. Each new member tells us new hidden information. Many other clans now give us money not to fight but for this information."

  All that had happened to her since she landed on the planet began to finally make sense as each new piece of the puzzle fit into place. "That's why you all use translators."

  "Yes, yes. A clan like Grinath was not even possible until after the Tarlujian Uprising. After that, these translators were found, and Clan Grinath was formed by groups of clanless ones left from the war."

  "What was the 'Tarlujian Uprising'?"

  Prin's head bobbed up and down slowly. "Yes, yes, of course. You've never heard the most great story. Do you know any of the history of Ka'esch?"

  Rebecca shook her head. "No."

  Prin stood and began pacing back and forth in the cell as it spoke—its four arms articulating frequently. "Where to begin, where to begin," it said quietly, thinking aloud.

  "No one knows for sure about the history of life on Ka'esch because no one has the time to spend on it. We are too busy fighting for survival. But from what I have learned from other clans, I think that life began somewhere in the Great Lake to the north. Over millions of years, as life became more complex, basic clans began to form. But since there was very much empty land, fighting was not so bad. The Lidrilian later took the north land, and we, the Hran, lived in the south.

  "After some time, all of the land was filled, and the clans began to fight for areas. But about 630 years ago—although as I said, no one knows for sure because we did not write things down until after the war—by Clan Diodre counting of 230 days per cycle, one clan found a large island to live on. This clan, the Tarluj, was left alone because no other clans knew they were there. Clan Tarluj grew in numbers, and since they were not always fighting to live like all other clans, they spent time making machines.

  "Then after many years of work, they began to murder all the other clans. Their technology gave them such a great help that they could not be stopped. For the first time in known history, many clans made a truce and fought together to destroy Clan Tarluj. But the truce was short. Once Clan Tarluj was no more, the other clans began a bitter fight over the Tarlujian technology. Each clan grabbed what they could and then returned to their areas to learn all they could about it. The old law of 'power to the strong, death to the weak' had to be changed to 'power to the strong and intelligent, death to the weak and stupid.' Because of this, each clan found their smartest members and kept them from taking their turn at hunting and fighting. They spent all their time learning about the technology and trying to make new ones. These are the scientists."

  Rebecca sat for several moments, her mind still processing all she had just heard. "So that's why your clan leader reacted so much when I said I was a scientist."

  "Yes, yes!" Prin said, resuming its seat upon the floor. "We get great respect from the others in the clan because they know that our technology helps to win fights. In fact, it was my technology that helped Sikaris to beat the V'skir." Two of its hands made circles around its eyes with its fingers. "Goggles. They stop the flashing lights of the V'skir."

  But Rebecca was only half listening; her mind was still digesting this latest information. "And this is why your clan leader is so interested in my weapon and drill. They are technologies no one on your planet has."

  "Yes, yes. Your weapon would give us a great help. We could learn how it works and sell it to others or use it to fight. It is a great prize," Prin said, watching her carefully.

  Rebecca seemed not to notice. "Is Sikaris a scientist?"

  Prin's face changed into an expression that Rebecca was unable to interpret. "No. At least, he does not serve as one here. In his home clan, he may have been one. In Clan Grinath, he is a fighter but a very intelligent one. He is a leader of fighters."

  "How does he know my language? And he said that I'm not the first human he has encountered. Have others of my kind ever been here before?" Rebecca asked with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

  The alien just stared at her, its expression indiscernible. "I do not know. Sikaris is very strange. He is not from any clan in the areas that I know, so he must be from one far away. It may be possible that he has met your kind before. He is mostly by himself and does not do activities with others or talk to them much. But the High Crala likes him. He is a great fighter, and he is very smart."

  The gradually increasing clicking sound of clawed feet scraping against the floor caused them both to turn toward the entrance of the cell. The golden brown form of Sikaris coalesced from out of the darkness beyond the door.

  "Prin, Breuun wants to speak to you," it said in its low, growling voice.

  Prin hopped to its feet and began walking toward the door, which Sikaris had now opened. "Well," it said to the tall alien as it passed through the door. "He is either a very great liar, or he is insane. Either way, he should fit in here." With that, Prin disappeared down the corridor.

  Rebecca sat stunned. Was it referring to me? And what did it mean by "fit in"? Was this some kind of test? But before she could come to any conclusions, her attention shifted to an item that was suddenly thrown at her feet. She stared down at her backpack in disbelief. My equipment! But why...?

  Her question was partially answered a second later when Sikaris looked at her and spoke. "Prepare yourself. We leave soon." Before Rebecca could say a word, it closed the door and was quickly swallowed by the darkness of the hallway.

  6

  The Journey Begins

  ALONE IN her cell, Rebecca picked up her backpack, eager to see what, if anything, still remained inside. She meticulously laid out each piece of equipment onto the slab and began examining them. To her surprise, with the exception of her laser pistol, everything had been returned to her.

  Satisfied that her motion detector, comm, binoculars, and tracker had not been tampered with, she returned them to the bag. Reaching down, she picked up a small multifunction pocket tool and turned it over in her hand. Flipping a small lever on the side of the handle, she cycled through the different settings until she came across t
he laser drill. Activating the tool, she felt a sudden sense of reassurance as the small blue laser light sprang into existence. After momentarily toying with the idea of using it to melt the lock on her prison cell, she flipped it off and shook her head. Even if I got out of this cell, there's no way I could make it back to the Vanguard without these creatures' help. But this could very well come in handy later. Closing it, she bent down and slipped the tool into a small pocket near the bottom of her left pant leg, then tucked both pant legs into her boots, effectively hiding any trace of the tool.

  That accomplished, she picked up the only remaining item: her voice-activated journal. With nothing else to occupy her time, she flipped it on and began to record.

  Journal Entry #2

  I hardly know where to begin. So much has happened since my last entry. I can only hope that this journal will somehow make it back to those who can make use of the information contained within. And if not, then at least, it's serving the purpose of keeping my mind from focusing on other unpleasant thoughts. I don't know how much time I have before they come to get me, so I'll only briefly relate the events that have occurred.

  My last entry was cut short due to a strange light that I saw coming from behind a hill. I quickly grew uneasy when I couldn't get a response on the commlink from the other crew members, so I began heading for the ship. As I ran, the light followed me, and even seemed to draw closer. Suddenly, another light that was so intense sprang up in front of me that it knocked me unconscious.

  I woke up a couple hours later inside a cage in the back of some kind of truck. I learned later that this vehicle belonged to a group of intelligent bug-like aliens called the V'skir. It seems that they have an innate ability to produce blinding flashes of light from their bodies—thus, the source of the light I had seen near the ship. I shudder to imagine what purpose they had in mind for me. What I still can't figure out is why I didn't pick up their movements on my motion detector.

  Furthermore, with all of the life-forms inhabiting this planet, why didn't the probe pickup any of them? All the other information sent by the probe was accurate, so how could it have missed so many living creatures? It's true that these creatures seem to live below the ground, but they obviously travel on the surface. The only logical explanation I can think of brings with it some frighteningly sinister implications—perhaps one of the aliens deliberately tampered with the probe and sent us only the information they wanted us to have to lure us here. But to what end?

  This is just one of the many puzzling riddles I've encountered. Maybe I'll discover the truth as I learn more about these creatures.

  But I digress. After I was captured by the bug aliens, I was rescued, in a sense, by another group. This "clan" is made up of aliens of various species. They survive by selling their services in mercenary fashion to other clans. It seems that the inhabitants of this planet, as far as I can tell, are engaged in a neverending war. They are constantly fighting over territory, food, resources, and most importantly, at least as far as I'm concerned, technology.

  This group of mercenaries, who call themselves Clan Grinath, brought me before their leader. After some very intense negotiating, which I'll relate later as time permits, I was able to work out a deal with the "High Crala." He has agreed to return me to the Vanguard in exchange for the RSK-320 laser drill. I must admit that I'm extremely apprehensive about trusting these creatures. However, I don't see that I have any other choice.

  I'm adding this journal entry while sitting in a cell, waiting for them to come and get me so we can leave for the ship. According to my watch, it has been nearly seven hours since we arrived on the planet, and my tracker indicates that the ship still seems to be where it landed. I only hope it's still there when...um...please let them wait for me!

  My emotions are, well, a mess, to say the least. On one hand, I can't believe that I've actually spoken and interacted with intelligent aliens from another planet! And to think we would have been excited to find bacteria. Zach will be so excited when I tell...if...l get a chance to tell him. Because on the other hand, there's a good chance that these same intelligent aliens may yet decide to kill me!

  And Jeffrey will...oh, Jeffrey. I'm so sorry. I...

  I can't dwell on those possibilities, for if I do, I'll surely be unable to maintain my sanity. Instead, I'll use this journal to focus on what I'm experiencing and observing. Science and logic will be my salvation.

  I am fascinated by what I'm learning about the various clans and the history of their planet. I spoke at length with one of their scientists—a human-sized ferret creature named Prin. It told me that there are two main races—animals and plants. What's most amazing is that both the plants and animals can move and are intelligent!

  When I first heard this, it took me by surprise. But now that I've had time to think about it, the more it seems to make an odd kind of sense. Why shouldn't plants have learned to move and develop language? If all of life on Earth evolved from a common ancestor, then that includes plant life. It now seems stranger to me that plants and other animals on Earth did not evolve these abilities. Why were humans the only ones to develop language and intelligence, and why don't plants move on Earth?

  Well, at any rate, on Ka'esch, for that is the name of this planet or continent (I'm not sure which), it seems that numerous species of plants and animals can speak. In fact, since this group of mercenaries is composed of many species, they rely on portable, pocket-sized translator units to communicate.

  Except for one alien. Of all that I've witnessed so far, nothing has perplexed me more than the fact that one of the aliens, a sort of large reptilian cat with flaps of skin like a flying squirrel between its limbs, actually speaks English and, it seems, numerous other languages as well. When I asked this Sikaris how it learned English, it simply replied that I was not the first human it had ever met. Does that mean that other humans have visited this planet, or that Sikaris has traveled to Earth somehow? Judging by the technology I've seen, it seems more likely that other humans must have come here. But if so, why did NASA send us? It seems...

  Someone's coming. I'll have to continue later.

  Rebecca switched off the recording unit and hastily shoved it into her backpack. No sooner had she finished securing the bag when Prin's form appeared outside her cell once again.

  This time, however, the weasel alien wore what resembled ragged pieces of dark green snakeskin strapped together to form armor, which covered various vital areas of its body. Hanging from its right shoulder and crossing its body to its left hip stretched a bandolier that carried metallic cylinders about the size of small cans of soup.

  "Come, Rebecca Clan Evans," it said as it opened her cell door. "It is time to leave." Prin stepped into her cell and dropped another set of the scaly armor onto the concrete slab on which she sat. "Since your skin is so weak, we thought this Dakkar-nil skin armor might protect you better."

  "Thank you," she said hesitantly as she stood to her feet, being careful not to put too much pressure on her injured knee. Reaching out, she picked up the strange armor. The material felt cold and hard yet oddly supple. Running her fingers lightly over it, she shuddered inwardly. It felt exactly like some kind of reptilian skin, and judging by what she had seen thus far, its previous owner had probably been a walking, talking alien being. Repressing her revulsion, she unfolded it and began to put it on.

  Prin looked at her in surprise. "You will not need that other...skin suit you wear. This will protect you much better, yes, yes."

  Rebecca glanced up at Prin as she began attaching the leg sections. "Thank you, but this skin of yours doesn't cover everything," she said, putting her hand through the hole where the tail should be for emphasis. "So I think I'll keep my other outfit, at least for modesty's sake." Tensing herself, she looked up at the alien, hoping it would not be offended.

  Instead, it looked merely confused. "What is that word?" it asked, the translator in her ear robbing the phrase of all inflection.

  As she
stood there with the belt in hand, it suddenly dawned on her that none of the creatures she had seen thus far wore clothing. "Well," she began to say. "On my planet, we don't like others to see our bodies, so we wear clothes, like this," she said, grabbing a piece of her jumpsuit between her fingers.

  "But you wear it for protection and warmth, no?"

  "Yes, we do, but we also wear it so others won't see us naked. We believe that to see someone naked is...wrong," she said, lacking a better explanation.

  Prin gave her the same look as it had before, which Rebecca was now beginning to associate with unbelief. "That does not make sense. Are you not all from one clan? Did not all life on your land come from the same parents' parents' parents? Then why hide your body from each other? Do not all of your clan look the same?"

  With her standing in this cell in front of this alien, the entire concept of modesty suddenly seemed ludicrous to her. Where did we ever get the idea of modesty? Maybe he's right. What makes us humans different than other animals? Why do we feel ashamed?

  "Come," Prin said finally, interrupting her thoughts. "We must go. They are waiting."

  Rebecca, still lost in thought, finished buckling the alien armor to fit as well as possible. She then picked up her bag and followed the lithe alien out of the cell.

  Prin led her past the detention area and back through the maze of corridors. "I am excited," it said dully as they walked. "The High Crala has asked me to go on this important hunt. Yes, yes, it will be good to get out. Scientists do not usually go on hunting parties, but I am ready," it said, pointing to the silver cylinders on its bandolier.

  "What are those for?" Rebecca asked.

  Prin looked at her, its face wearing its typical expressionless mask. "These are small explosives that have a simple timing mechanism inside. I have made them to work when I zerng them."