by T. R. Harris
Every datapad had a sampling wand, used primarily to test food and drink before consumption. It could tell if the slime on Adam’s coat was dangerous or not.
Two other aliens were on their knees, tending to their fallen comrade.
The old alien was in Adam’s face. “That was a greeting, a welcoming to our planet.”
Adam looked down at the front of the alien’s garment. It was stained in a sickly-looking brownish color…as were the fronts of all the others.
“A greeting?” Adam stammered.
“Yes. It is custom.”
Adam looked at the unconscious alien. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes. She will recover.”
Adam caught the gender indication. He looked at the creature on the ground and then at the others. They all looked alike. Were they all female? He was afraid to ask.
“It’s just mucus and saliva,” Sherri reported. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I’m really sorry,” he said to the old alien. “I wasn’t expecting that type of greeting.”
“That is apparent. What are you…and why are you here?”
“We’re a crew from a distant part of the galaxy. We have come to restock our supplies.”
The alien suspiciously scanned the others, resting his eyes a little longer on the tiny bear-looking Jym. “I have not seen your particular kind here before, either as neutrals or as contestants. You did not give the names of your species.”
“The names would not mean anything to you. Are you the authority here? What must we do to get permission to land?”
The alien snickered—a very Human-like expression. His fans extended out half way and began to wave. “Permission? You have already landed. Permission to remain should now be your greatest concern.”
Adam pursed his hips. He was cold and really wanted to get inside to clean off the slime from his coat. “Okay then, do we have permission to remain?”
“Remain if you wish. We have no force to stop you, although we could inform the Nuoreans.”
“Are you affiliated with them?” Adam asked.
The alien looked over his shoulder in the direction of the Nuorean warship. “You do not know the Nuoreans well if you ask such a question. No race is affiliated with the Nuoreans.”
“We spotted hundreds of arenas on the way in. Do they still hold games here?”
“Not for many years, except for a few testing contests.”
“What is your name?” Adam asked.
“What is your name, alien?”
“I’m called Adam.” This time the Human bowed slightly. In almost every culture, a bow conveyed friendship, if not compliance and servitude.
“I am Afton. I hold the lowly position of port supervisor. My assistant is Nissi.” He looked down at the groggy alien on the ground, who was just coming to with the help of the other aliens. “She will long remember your arrival…Adam. Now what is your true purpose here? Those who are so quick to fight are not the kind of beings who would land with Nuoreans present. You are just what they are looking for.”
Adam studied Afton carefully. He sensed the alien didn’t hold any love or loyalty for the Nuoreans. In that case, he may be a valuable ally. Besides a nav computer, Adam needed information—information about this galaxy, about the Nuoreans and the general lay of the land. He looked at Nissi as she was helped to her feet. He hoped he hadn’t created an irreparable diplomatic incident with his impulsive fit of anger. He needed the aliens.
“May I extend my most sincere apologies again to your assistant Nissi,” he said with feeling. “And may I invite the two of you to a dinner aboard my ship? As I said, we are new here, and we seek your wisdom as to the proper protocols and traditions of your world.”
Afton eyed the eclectic mix of aliens from the alien starship. “If you wish to learn of our ways, then you should join the Us for a meal in our residence. Remaining sheltered and unaware within your craft will only make the lessons harder to learn.”
Adam bowed again and smiled. “That makes perfect sense. When and where?
The meeting was set for two hours from then; Afton would send a transport to pick them up. Adam asked if it would okay to have four guests total; Kaylor and Jym would stay aboard the Najmah Fayd to keep an eye on her. The alien agreed.
As the four Humans snapped flash weapons into ankle holsters, hidden under pant legs, Adam briefed Kaylor. “The ghost of my ATD is still active in the ship. I’ll send you a live feed of the conversation through the ship’s comm system so you can listen in. If anything goes screwy, you’ll know. Our location can be pinpointed through the ghost as well.”
“Will you hear me if we are approached by Nuoreans?” Kaylor asked.
“Just use the comm. I’ll be monitoring.”
“Can you trust the alien?”
“No more than he can trust us.”
“That’s what I am afraid of.”
Adam placed a hand on Kaylor’s shoulder before turning to the Humans. “Our ride’s waiting outside. We’re off to have some local grub.”
“Remember,” Sherri began, “these are the people who spit on you to say hello. Who knows what we’re in for?”
“Just bring along your trusty sampling wand. It would be a shame to come all this way just to die of food poisoning.”
96
Afton’s home was a simple box made of huge slabs of granite on four sides and the floor, with a lighter wood-frame roof covered with flat tiles. He lived not far from the landing field, at the end of a row of similarly built structures and facing an empty expanse of ancient lava flows that jutted out to meet the vast ocean. Half the homes were dark, and none of the natives were outside as the transport moved along the dimly lit street.
Most two-legged, mammal-like creatures shared the same basic accoutrements of life. They bent at the knees, which meant traditional chairs for seating. They had tables, running water and electric lighting. Most preferred to sleep on padded mats and somewhere within the structure was a bathroom. And the other trait of most alien homes—a god-awful smell.
Afton’s house was the rule, rather than the exception. It took a moment for the Humans to adapt to the stench, which came either from the unseen bathroom or from the food being prepared in the kitchen area. Mostly likely, it was a combination of both.
After sizing up the three huge Human males and the one intense-looking female, Afton introduced them to his mate. Her name was Kies—and she looked just like Afton. Obviously, there were differences in their anatomies somewhere; Adam just couldn’t tell without some probing.
The female Nissi was present, as well, half her face covered in an angry black and yellow bruise. She showed no emotion when Adam entered the home, seeming to still be a little rattled from the hit she’d taken. Adam was sure that if she had a choice she’d rather be home in bed sleeping it off.
The chairs they were offered around the large, rectangular dining table creaked as the heavy Humans sat down. Kies didn’t seem very happy about the impromptu dinner party, especially for what to her were a group of smelly aliens. Of course, this was Adam’s interpretation from the scowl on her face. For all Adam knew, this was the native’s look of absolute joy. She didn’t speak a word as she went about her chores.
“What do you call your race?” Adam asked, attempting to break the ice.
“We are called the Us.”
“Us? That translates as a pronoun indicating a group of people,” Sherri commented.
“That is correct. We consider all of us as the Us. Is there a problem?”
Adam and Sherri shook their heads. “Of course not. It makes perfect sense,” Adam said. “In fact, we come a planet called Earth—”
“Earth?”
Adam could see the confusion on Afton’s face. “Yes, it translates as dirt in most languages. But we consider it to mean the mother soil, the stuff that makes our world firm and solid.”
“Which also makes sense,” said Afton. “And where is this Earth of yours?”
>
Adam hesitated. He had the feeling the alien was baiting him, having already figured out the answer. Afton stepped into the silence.
“You are from the Kac, are you not?”
“Why do you say that?” Riyad asked.
“For generations, my world of Bancc-Bin has played host to hundreds, if not thousands of races in the Suponac, brought here by the Nuoreans for testing. We have seen nearly all the advanced species on this side of the galaxy—”
“And we have never seen you before,” Nissi snapped, not hiding her venom for the Humans.
Adam saw Coop’s and Riyad’s hands slide down their legs, ready if the Us decided to try anything.
“You’re correct,” Adam admitted. “We are from the galaxy you call the Kac.”
“Why are you here?” Nissi demanded. She was having trouble speaking through the pain in her face. To her credit, Adam was surprised she was still alive. With his enhanced strength, he could have killed her.
“From our earlier conversation, I believe you have no loyalty to the Nuoreans. Is this true?”
“If it were not, do you believe we would tell you?” Afton answered, a slight grin on his snarling lips. His fans flared out and vibrated for a moment before receding. A laugh?
Adam smiled back, careful not to fully expose his teeth to the alien. The Us were constantly exposing their own sharp, wicked-looking teeth. Still, Adam wasn’t taking any chances.
“A very good point, Afton. But yes, we are from the Kac and we have come because the Nuoreans are threatening our galaxy with their silly challenges. We mean to stop them.”
“You…and your solitary ship?” Nissi growled. Literally…she growled. “You must not have experience fighting the Nuoreans. It will take more than that to defeat them.”
“We don’t want to defeat them—just stop them from entering our galaxy,” said Copernicus, speaking for the first time. His response was a growl itself.
Afton raised his hand, attempting to calm the tensions around the table. “Your mission is your own, and you have come a long way to accomplish it. I trust you believe in your abilities, so I will not question them.” He cast an angry eye at his fiery assistant.
The conversation was interrupted by the serving of the evening meal. Kies carried a large tub into the room and placed it at the center of the table. She then brought in seven small torches on wide bases—flames shooting upward three inches—along with seven sharp knives.
Something moved in the tub. The Humans were taller than the Us and could see over the edge of the container. Just then, a number of pointy tentacles slithered over the edge.
Afton reached out quickly and grabbed one of the spongy arms, then with his knife, cut it off and placed the bloody end into the flame of his torch.
“Hurry,” he said. “Cauterize the end to hold in the juice.”
“The juice…is blood,” Riyad pointed out.
“Yes,” Afton beamed, as he bit down hard on the charred end of the tentacle. Then he placed the bit end back in the flame to once again seared the flesh—to seal in the juice.
Sherri reached across the table and grabbed one of the wiggling tentacles. She cut it off and placed the bloody end in the flame. The three men watched her, their mouths agape. Once the tip was blackened, she removed it from the flame and pierced the flesh with the sampling wand on her datapad. After a moment, she sighed.
“Sorry guys…but it’s editable. Can’t guarantee the taste, though.”
“Please try,” Afton prodded. “I realize it is alien to you, but even as we must suffer your particularly foul odor, so you should taste our food.”
Each man took a tentacle and placed it in the flame. Then in unison, they bit into a still wiggling and warm, gooey finger of flesh.
Blood squirted out the sides of Adam’s mouth, as the foul warmth of the barely dead animal’s blood met his tongue. His eyes grew wide, and he looked at the others, each sharing the same expression. After the first bite was down he looked across the table at his host. “What does this taste like?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s not chicken or beef. In fact I don’t think it takes like meat at all.”
“Plums,” Copernicus offered. “It tastes like sweet, warm plums.”
“That’s it!” Adam exclaimed. “It tastes like a fruit rather than a meat.”
“The body chemistry of each species produces a different reaction,” Afton said. “We have provided gandt to numerous species. All have enjoyed it, to one degree of another. It is a product of our ocean. Others collect them by the thousands each day to be sold in the market. Please, let us eat before resuming the inevitable questioning you have for us. Our appetites may be altered by the grave topics to be discussed.”
After the meal, everyone went outside and sat around a roaring fire, while listening to waves crash against the rocks at the base of the high bluff. The glory of Andromeda was evident in the sky, shining with the intensity of a galaxy twice the size of the Milky Way. Even on its fringe, the light from a billion-billion stars lit up the night, casting a soft, even glow across the landscape and sparkling on the black sea beyond.
The smell of burning wood made Adam quickly forget about the stench inside the house, and he got the impression even the aliens were welcoming the masking fragrance of the fire. Adam was reminded of his home in Tahoe, and the countless nights with pine-scented smoke wafting through the trees. It was hard for him to believe he was in an alien galaxy. It only proved that atoms were atoms, and molecules were molecules everywhere. The laws of chemistry and physics were universal, and wood in one galaxy burned just like wood in another.
Taking in the tranquil scene sent a thread of melancholy through his mind. He missed his home—and his homeworld. He wished all the turmoil and conflict would just go away and leave him and his race alone. They had never asked for any of this. But now he and his closest friends were on a desperate mission of life or death in a place unimaginably far from home. Suddenly, all the tasks before him rose up like a chain of Everest mountain peaks, blocking his way. He closed his eyes and tried to wash away the depression. Only the sound of his friend’s voices brought him out of his waking nightmare.
“How many Nuoreans are on the planet?” Copernicus was asking.
“Several hundred,” Afton answered. Kies was at his side, huddled close for warmth against the cold ocean air. “They are here when the need arises for nearby races to be drafted for the games. There are few worthy opponents left, so they rarely call them up, not until their numbers increase.”
“Why are the Us not in danger?”
Afton smiled. “Look at us. We are small and frail. Although accommodations have been made for us in the past with regards to weapons, we cannot provide adequate competition in the games. You will find that there are many like us. The Nuoreans do not force us to fight, yet they use us for other things. Some worlds provide raw materials, others, food sources. Bancc-Bin has been a preliminary staging ground for several hundred years. Our gravity and atmosphere is a near-match for Nuor so potential immunity races can be tested here, to see if they can stand against the challengers. The Nuor may be heartless savages, but they do like competitive matches.”
“Do you know where Nuor is located?” Adam asked over the crackling of the ember-producing fire.
“It is five thousand light-cycles from here, on the other side of the Mournis Gap.”
“Have you ever been there?”
Afton laughed. “I have not been outside my system. I may manage a spaceport, yet I am not a star-traveler.”
Adam moved around the huge fire pit to sit next to Afton. “I have to be honest with you, Afton,” he began. “We came to your world looking for a navigation computer. We’re here to break the link between your galaxy and ours, but we can’t do that without first learning the location of Nuor.”
“You came all this distance without knowing?”
“How could we? We’re the first of our kind to come here. Can you help us? Can you provide us with na
vigational charts for Andro—for the Suponac?”
Afton looked to his assistant, Nissi. She sat silent, her iridescent skin shimmering in the light from the fire. She looked like she was about to explode.
“There is a—” Afton began.
“You cannot help them!” Nissi stood up, the fans on the sides of her head flaring out and vibrating. “They will upset the peace we have on Bancc-Bin. They come here from a smudge in the sky, and there they will return, leaving the Us to suffer the consequences.”
“All we need is a computer,” Adam countered. “After that, we’ll leave, and no one will have to know where we got it.”
“They will know. And you said it before, you are not here to defeat the Nuoreans, just to make your galaxy safe from them. And what about the Us? We will still be here and subject to their wrath.”
“How will they learn that you gave us the computer?”
“Because I told them where you are. I will not let you hurt the Us.”
97
“The Human ship is on Bancc-Bin!” Morlon reported over the comm link to Rodoc.
“Where is that?”
“One of the staging planets, in sector nine.”
“What is it doing there?” the leader of the Nuoreans asked.
“Unknown. It landed three hours ago. A local informed us of the arrival.”
“We must secure the ship above all else.”
Morlon nodded. “I understand. I have dispatched Third Cadre to the planet. It will take two days to get there. Until then our local forces are tasked with securing the ship and the crew.”
The disgusted look on Rodoc’s face spoke volumes. Nuoreans assigned to such an insignificant station would not be expected to be the best-trained. Morlon could read his expression.
“We must rely on what is available, Master.”
“Yet these are Humans, Commander. The local force will have no concept of what they are facing.”
“I will inform them.” Morlon looked hard at his superior. “It is the ship that has value at this point. If the Humans become too difficult to subdue or to hold, I will order their execution.”