Sagitta

by C M Benamati

  Chapter 31

  The days dragged by. Or were they weeks? Morgan couldn’t tell. They must have traveled some great distance, since the ship’s strange gravity never seemed to relent. The general consensus from the spacefarers was that they were under heavy acceleration, traveling in a straight line, but sometimes there were debates among them.

  Morgan wondered about that. Occasionally, as he paced around the bay, the gravity seemed to shift, pulling at him in an almost imperceptibly different direction. It wasn’t quite the same feeling as spin gravity. But what was it?

  The guards brought them food—some sort of bland paste with chunks that made him gag—and water. A makeshift latrine had been set up in the corner, walled off by plastic sheets. The aliens hadn’t seemed to comprehend the human need for toilet paper.

  The bay stank. He stank. Everyone stank.

  At least he had Jack, Wally, and Lieutenant Carver to keep him company. Jason Carver had become a fast friend, perhaps on account of their shared loss. The poor man had been only one year away for being eligible to transfer to Starlight Station. He and Addie had planned to start a family.

  Victor was another matter. He didn’t talk to the crew, and he certainly didn’t want to talk to Morgan. Reflecting on the last thing Victor had said to him, Morgan had gone over intent on apologizing for some of the things he’d said, but before he opened his mouth Victor told him to get lost.

  “You got her killed,” Victor had said. “And I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”

  Morgan had watched Victor since. He was jumpy, and didn’t talk to anyone except for himself, which he did a lot. Most of it was gibberish—fragments of conversations that he’d once had with Liz, mostly. Or maybe conversations he thinks he’s still having with her. Victor kept grabbing at the back of his neck where his data port used to be. Morgan didn’t know much about data ports, and knew less about withdrawal from sim-stim drugs. He suspected some of Victor’s erratic behavior might be due to this, but he wasn’t about to go ask him about it.

  Morgan’s story had spread around the prison camp like wildfire, especially the part where the hellcat had climbed on his fighter and used its mind-powers on him.

  “Was it really telepathy?” asked Jason.

  Morgan shrugged. He, Jason, and Wally were sitting on the floor in a semi-circle, playing blackjack with the deck of cards that Wally kept in his breast pocket.

  “All I know is it was in my head, and it wanted to know everything about Earth.”

  “Don’t make sense,” said Wally. “If they can get in your head, then why haven’t these ones done it?” He waved in the general direction of the space outside the cargo bay.

  That was the question, wasn’t it? So far, no one had reported any attempt by the hellcats to get into their minds, not even the people that had been taken from the cargo bay and examined.

  The sound of a magnetic seal releasing echoed through the bay. Del Toro stood and walked to the doors. “Everyone stay calm. Let me handle this.”

  Morgan threw his cards down and stood up with the rest of them, although he stayed to the back of the pack this time.

  Three hellcats stepped into the bay. The one on the left had shaggy brown fur, dark eyes, and a massive mechanical arm which ended in four glistening metal claws. The one on the right was much smaller, maybe a female, with tawny fur and yellow eyes. Its fangs glistened in the dim lighting, and it carried an enormous rifle that it panned across the bay.

  The alien in the center was the fiercest beast Morgan had ever seen. The largest of the group, its fur was black like midnight. Its claws weren’t extended, but their black tips glistening from between stubby fingers. As the huge hellcat swept his gaze over the humans, it became apparent why the alien didn’t carry a weapon. The yellow eyes were weapons of their own.

  Morgan shuddered under that gaze. Was this the same alien that had climbed aboard his fighter? It couldn’t be. Surely that monster had perished in the backwash of the Firefly’s engines. Yet, the resemblance was striking.

  While the other humans looked apprehensively at the creatures, Del Toro walked right up to the group. The black hellcat towered over him, but the little man showed no fear. He may be annoying, but blast it, he is a good leader.

  “I am Lieutenant Commander Miguel del Toro. What do you want with us?”

  The hellcat’s wolf-like ears twitched. It had heard, but had it understood?

  Something moved behind the three monsters, and a fourth alien slipped into the bay. It was smaller, and slightly rounder. Its coat was gray. Perhaps this was an elder?

  It handed something to the one with the mechanical arm.

  “Renk pa, took phollz.”

  Morgan jumped. He’d been too busy watching the brown alien that when the black one spoke, it caught him off guard.

  “What does that mean?” said Del Toro.

  The black hellcat’s ears swiveled towards Del Toro. “Renk pa, took phollz.”

  Something flashed. There were things in its ears, devices with blinking lights. The brown hellcat held out something to Del Toro and gestured at his own ears, which also blinked with the strange electronics.

  Del Toro frowned. Tentatively, he reached out and plucked the thing from the brown hellcat’s hand.

  “Earbuds,” he said, turning to the humans.

  The brown hellcat stepped forward, his hand outstretched. The earbuds were so small that they looked like a collection of lima beans in his hand.

  “Jones, Carver, go take some,” said Del Toro.

  As it turned out, they had brought enough of the devices for everyone. Jack handed Morgan one. He turned it over in his hand. It looked like any generic earbud headphone. Some sort of status light pulsed orange then green. He put it in his left ear. The fit wasn’t comfortable.

  “It’s got to be a trap,” tittered Victor. “They’re going to fry all our brains.” But he stepped up like the rest of them and grabbed an earbud. “What do I care anyway? We’re all dead one way or the other.”

  The hellcat spoke again, and the words sounded exactly the same as before. But, then, the earbud clicked on with a beep.

  “Be good, we friends.”

  Del Toro whirled. “Did you all hear that?”

  “Yeah,” said Jack “It’s a translator circuit.”

  “He said to be good, and that we’re friends?” Victor laughed “What is this crap? Have you seen his fangs? He’ll eat your flippin face off!”

  “Someone shut him up,” snapped Del Toro, pointing at Victor.

  Morgan tried not to laugh. He had been thinking the same thing, but he wouldn’t give Victor the satisfaction of agreeing with him.

  “Be good, we friends,” the hellcat said again.

  “Hellcats aren’t our friends,” said Alberto.

  “Yeah,” said another crewman. “Toro, tell these freaks that we’re not making any deals with murderers. When Earth finds out what they’ve done, we’re going to kick their furry asses!”

  Del Toro made a cut-off gesture with his hand. “Quiet, you idiots.” Then, looking alarmed, he held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Them, behind me, are the idiots. Not you. Please, tell me what do you want?”

  “We not are hellcats,” said the alien. “We not are murders. We are Maurians. I are Mog.”

  Del Toro pointed at the four aliens. “Is Maurian the name of your species?”

  “Yes,” said the big alien. “We are not hellcats. That word mean, strange, derogatory. We are proud, honorable. I are Mog.”

  “You, the one speaking, your name is Mog?”

  “I are Mog,” said the alien, pointing at his chest.

  “You mean, I am Mog,” said Del Toro.

  The smaller gray alien punched something into a device that looked like a computer tablet.

  “I am Mog,” said the black alien again. The alien’s initial words before sounded exactly the same, but the earbud rendered the translation differently. Morgan bit his lip and stared at the back o
f Del Toro’s head. Hurry up and ask them why they killed our ship and our friends.

  “What do you want with us?” said Del Toro. “Are we your prisoners?”

  The alien’s lips curled up at the tips. “We want a alliance. You are protected, here.”

  Morgan leaned closer to Jason, who was standing next to him. “I don’t think these things work right. He says he’s a friend and wants an alliance? Yeah right.”

  “But I am honest, I am a friend,” said the hellcat.

  Morgan froze. He had whispered. How had the alien heard him?

  “Ah, that’s a little hard to believe,” said Del Toro. “Considering you blew up our ship and killed over three hundred people.”

  Morgan’s pulse quickened, and Jason stiffened next to him. This is it, Del Toro’s calling him out.

  “We not destroy your ship,” said Mog. “The Ta’Krell did destroy your ship. We fight Ta’Krell.”

  “That’s not possible.” People parted as Morgan stepped to the front of the group, unable to believe what he was hearing. Del Toro waved him off, but he ignored him. “I saw you on our ship. You boarded us, you killed the crew!”

  “We did not.”

  Morgan clenched his fists.

  “Easy,” said Jason, although he himself looked anything but relaxed.

  “But they killed your wife,” hissed Morgan.

  The hellcat’s ears twitched. “You are mistaken. The Ta’Krell boarded your ship. The Ta’Krell are the nemesis. We did not kill the furless ones. When you arrived, you destroyed the Ta’Krell command ship. We saw, and we knew we had an ally. We help.”

  Maybe Victor was right. This could be a trap. Were they trying to lure the humans into a false sense of security? For what purpose? What would that accomplish? If they wanted us dead, they would have killed us by now.

  “If you’re friends, then make him put down the gun,” said Del Toro, pointing at the small tawny-furred creature.

  “I think that one might be a she,” said Morgan.

  “Correct,” said the female hellcat. Her voice softer than Mog’s. “I am a she. I am Nali.” She bent down and placed her weapon on the floor. “I am the security officer on this ship. I am sorry, but I had to be sure you would not attack the commander.”

  “Him?” said Del Toro, indicating Mog.

  “Yes,” said Nali.

  Del Toro appeared to be thinking this over. Morgan looked around. The crew was tense, but not as tense as before. Were some of them buying it? Surely the ones that had seen the hellcats face to face on the Sagitta weren’t. Morgan wasn’t the only one, he had learned. Stoddard and Alberto had caught glimpses during the Sagitta’s final moments. Their descriptions corroborated his. Morgan looked at Wally. The technician was glaring at Mog with cold fury.

  “What do the Ta’Krell look like?” All eyes turned to Victor. “Come on then, what do they look like?”

  “No one knows what they look like,” said Nali. The translator sounded funny, as if it was trying to impart a feeling of distress to her words. “They kill without showing their faces.”

  “There are the holy books—” began the brown hellcat, but Mog cut him off.

  “We’ve never captured one, alive or dead,” said Mog. “They are more powerful than us.”

  “But we’ve seen them,” said Morgan. “They boarded our ship, and guess what? The Ta’Krell look just like you.”

  The four hellcats exchanged looks. “That is impossible,” said Mog. “You must be wrong.”

  But Morgan knew what he had seen in that corridor and in the hangar bay. There was no denying it. The Maurians had been on the Sagitta. “I’m not mistaken. Things that look just like you boarded our ship.”

  “No, the furless one is wrong, is mistaken.” said the hellcat with the mechanical arm.

  “We call ourselves humans,” said Del Toro.

  “Ah, humans,” said Mog. “And you are from some place? A planet? A kingdom?”

  Don’t tell them anything, Morgan thought desperately. They want to know about Earth so they can destroy it!

  Thankfully no one said anything.

  “We are from Mauria,” said Nali.

  The other hellcats tensed. Del Toro looked from one to the other, then back at Mog. “Mauria is your planet?”

  Mog closed his eyes. “Mauria was the homeworld. Billions died. My mother. My father. My brother. The same story, on all the planets in the empire. The Ta’Krell, the name is from a holy book. It means destroyers, killer-of-worlds. We know not their true name, but this one is fitting.”

  Del Toro was nodding. “The planet you were fighting over then, it’s yours?”

  “It is our last world,” said Mog.

  Nali stepped forward. “They came out of nowhere. In these last few months, we have lost everything. We know nothing about them, only that they want us dead. They incinerated our homeworld. My brother Amyl, my sister Enari, both dead. My mother, my grandparents. Billions dead.”

  Morgan stared at Nali as tears began running down her face, wetting her fur. They cry. Does it mean the same thing for them? The gray alien was trying to hide it, but he was crying too.

  “How do I know you’re not trying to trick us?” said del Toro.

  “Why would we?” said Mog.

  “I don’t know. Why didn’t you just tell us this in the first place? Why did we just wake up in that room back there with no explanation?”

  “Because they didn’t know how to tell us,” said Morgan suddenly. He tapped his earpiece. “Right? You had to figure out how to talk to us.”

  “Yes, that’s it,” said the gray Maurian. His voice was older, more seasoned. “I am Kremp, the master maker. I made the translators. When we rescued you after the battle, no one knew what to do. We had never seen your species before. Our doctor took scans while we healed you, but I needed more details. Of the ear, of the inside spaces. It became needed to take another.”

  Uliana stepped forward. Her voice was shaky, and a bit hard to decipher due to her Russian accent. “When you took me, it was for this?”

  “Yes,” said Mog. “Deepest apologies.”

  “It was you, then,” she said, looking at him. “I thought so.” She pulled a small necklace out. “You wanted this?”

  Mog bowed his head. “I was curious. I wanted to know what it meant. I am sorry if I offended.”

  “No no,” said Uliana. “It is just jewelry, a decoration.”

  “It is pretty,” said Mog.

  “Enough of this,” said Del Toro. He turned to look at Morgan. “You, boy, you had the closest encounter. Are these—” Del Toro hesitated, his mouth working as if he didn’t like the taste of the words. “Are these…people the same as what was aboard Sagitta or not?”

  Morgan gulped. All eyes were on him. “They look the same,” he said. “But, but I don’t know. Now that I hear them talk—look, it was dark, the ship was running on emergency power, and we were panicking. Maybe, maybe I saw something else.”

  “It looked the same to me,” said Wally.

  Del Toro regarded the technician, then looked back at Morgan. His lips moved with exacting precision. “I do not want a maybe, mister Greenfield. Are these Maurians the same species as the creature that attacked you? Yes or no.”

  Morgan racked his brain. A huge, hulking form. Black fur, yellow eyes, pointed ears, and nose like a cat’s. It was Mog’s face. But, there had been slight differences. And then there was that searing pain in his mind. If he hadn’t escaped the hangar deck, that thing would have learned all there was to know about humans by pulling the info right from his brain.

  “Can you read minds?” he said, looking at Mog.

  “I do not understand,” said Mog.

  Morgan tapped his forehead. “With your brain, can you see into the brains of others? Steal their thoughts?”

  A change came over Mog. His ears twitched, and he licked his lips. “Certainly not.”

  “Then they aren’t the hellcats,” said Morgan. “If these Mau
rians could read minds, they wouldn’t be going through all this trouble with translators and with talking.”

  “That,” said Del Toro, “is a good answer. Thank you, Mr. Greenfield.”

  Morgan nodded.

  “What, you’re going to believe him?” said Victor. “Morgan’s clearly mad. He was hallucinating. Telepathy isn’t possible.”

  “Quiet,” said Del Toro. “Right now all things must be considered. Look around. Did you think any of this was possible a week ago?”

  Victor glared at the officer, but was silent.

  “I am sorry about the loss of your craft,” said Mog. “We tried to save it, but we were not able.”

  Morgan remembered the silver four-winged vessel that had been fighting the darts. Of course. “This ship!” he sputtered. “Can you show us a picture of this ship?”

  Mog cocked his head to the side, then reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a thin rectangular object. A series of excited beeps emanated from the device as he tapped away with his large forefinger.

  “Here,” said Mog. “Look.”

  He turned and pointed his device at the blank screen next to the cargo bay door. The control panel came to life. The image that appeared was a wireframe diagram of a graceful looking spaceship. Not blunt-bodied, but flowing. A curving bow, four wings, and big engines at the rear. For the first time since he had woken up in the cargo bay, Morgan grinned.

  “The silver ship,” he said.

  “Yeah,” said Wally, jumping up and down. “Yeah, that’s the one that helped us out!”

  “Is this good?” said Mog.

  “You bet it is,” shouted Jack. “That’s the big bird that defended the Sagitta!”

  “Yeah man,” said Wally. “I like that ship! Are we aboard right now?”

  Mog bowed his head. “Yes. This is my ship. She is the last of her class. She is called the Narma Kull.”

  Tears were welling in Morgan’s eyes. Despite the unexplained physical similarities, these were not the hellcats. These were the Maurians, and they were friends.

  “Will you take us back to Earth?” said Morgan.

  “Your homeworld?” said Mog.

  “Yes.”