Lacuna: Demons of the Void

by David Adams

  The woman raised a sneaker covered foot, slamming it down on the puddle of liquid. Instead of splashing, the liquid immediately glowed a bright yellow and hardened – returning to its blue liquid state as her foot stopped.

  “Isn’t that just the coolest, most awesome thing you’ve ever seen? We think it’s designed with a dual purpose – to absorb the heat energy of the weapon when it’s firing and as a safety device. If the weapon explodes, well, this stuff goes super hard and prevents the explosion from taking out the whole ship. We reckon that’s what prevented this little bugger from blowing up with the rest of them when its beam emitter overheated. These giant fuzzy fuckers are clever, I’ll give them that!”

  So they didn’t recover the alien’s energy weapon or their jump drive. Blowing out a disappointed sigh, Liao put her hands on her hips. She saw Rowe reaching for her pen, instinctively pressing the clicker. Liao shot her a dark look and Rowe shrugged her shoulders.

  “Put that damn thing away. The way you hold it you’re going to put someone’s eye out.”

  “Ugh... fine.” Fortunately, the pen went away again.

  Liao tried to get Rowe to focus. “What else did you find?”

  “Raygun.”

  Summer bent over, fumbling around in the debris for a moment and triumphantly pulling out a small device with a pistol grip.

  “It was on the alien we cut out of the wreckage. We think they’re for self-defence.”

  Liao raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think that?”

  With a shrug, Summer casually aimed the device at a bulkhead-

  “-...Wait, WHAT ARE-”

  -and depressed the trigger. A bright orange orb the size of a baseball leapt from the tip of the weapon, leaving a trail of sparkling energy behind it as it flew towards and struck the opposite bulkhead. Immediately the metal sagged and melted like a block of cheese in the microwave, the impact zone glowing a grim, fiery red.

  “See? Raygun. Can you imagine how much this shit would get on eBay?”

  With what Liao thought was a shocking disregard for personal safety, Summer tossed the device over her shoulder and jumped on top of a three metre long, suspiciously bomb-shaped object (sans fins), which she straddled waving an imaginary cowboy hat above her head.

  “Check it out, I’m Major Kong!”

  The image of Summer riding the eerie device caused her blood to run cold. She recognized the reference – Doctor Strangelove, a black and white movie about the Cold War. Finally able to speak, Liao had to shout over the noise of workmen cutting, drilling, disassembling. “That... that thing’s a bomb?”

  “It’s a breaching charge,” Summer clarified, “we think. Basically we reckon that these little fighters have two primary weapons; their energy weapons heat and soften the hull of target ships, and when it’s all nice and melty, they drop this right on the weakened area. No idea how much energy they output or what the trigger mechanism is. But hey, so cool.”

  Liao frowned darkly. “You mean you don’t know... if it’s safe? That thing could be a live ordnance?”

  “Haha, we have absolutely no fucking idea!” Laughing, Summer gave it a firm pat, rubbing her palm in circles over the front of the horrid device, seeming unconcerned and grinning like a kid in a toy store.

  Liao was not impressed. “I want that thing moved to a different cargo bay. If it goes off in here we could lose-”

  Summer laughed dismissively. “Captain, Captain, Captain... We have nukes that can fit inside a suitcase, and this thing is big enough for me to sit on. I’m pretty sure that if it goes off here, nobody on this whole ship is going to have time to shit their pants before they’re dead.”

  “That... is not reassuring.”

  “Oh, lighten up, Captain tight-pants! You really need to get laid... You’d be much more relaxed about space aliens and their loot. … Hey, maybe I can lend you the space dildo...”

  Rolling her eyes, Liao could bear none of the excitable woman’s idiocy. She turned on her heel and left, calling as she went.

  “I expect your report within the week, Rowe.” She stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “And Summer?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you discharge any weapon on board my ship without authorization, ever again, I will throw your body out an airlock.”

  *****

  Brig

  TFR Beijing

  En route to the lunar colony

  Three weeks later

  They had learned so much about the creature in three weeks. Their first and most pressing concern was Saara’s survival. They had placed a number of potential food objects in her cell, including water, along with a model of the chemical composition of the stuff drawn on a whiteboard. They had included other documentation as well – sketches of a large lake, a raindrop, pictures of clouds and rain.

  Liao and Yu had left her with a bright blue marker and a whiteboard, with the intention that she could draw anything she required. Saara, it seemed, grasped the concept very quickly. The humans were afraid she wouldn’t understand. Fortunately she did, and feeding her was even easier. Her diet seemed very broad. She ate the dried fish, rice, assorted vegetables and red meats they gave her, all without verbal or physical complaint. Her wounds were healing much faster than a human’s would, and by the third day her bandages were removed entirely. By the second week there was no indication she was injured at all.

  The marines on board, who detested her presence, didn’t like that one bit.

  Liao was stunned by the careful manner in which their prisoner ate. She expected the Toralii to eat like some kind of bogeyman, tearing away at her meal with savage abandon, but this was not the case. Saara used her claws to separate the meat from bone and the skin from fruit, dexterously placing the food in her mouth with surprising care. Any dropped morsel or crumb was cleaned up, at first with the back of her hand, then later with the napkins they provided.

  Clothing her turned out to be difficult. They did not have a tailor on board and only a limited supply of uniforms. The clothing she wore when she arrived, some kind of skin tight spacesuit, had been cut to ribbons by the surgical team and Rowe was doing her best to analyse the strange fabric. As a short term measure, several of the crew (under Liao’s instructions) cut and crudely sewed several towels together to form a sort of large, over-sized bathrobe for her to wear. It wasn’t stylish, but at least she wasn’t naked. Two were made and they were washed every alternate day. More permanent clothing, she was told, was to be expected in the next resupply shipment.

  Their language and communication seemed to progress as well and Liao worked with Yu to study as much as they could. In the end, although she could spend far less time with Saara than Yu was able to, Liao’s talent for languages allowed her to keep up. The two of them discussed the Toralii language at length, always with Saara present so they could learn from her.

  Most tellingly, there was a subtle shift in the way Liao referred to her as well. Instead of being an “it”, Saara became “she”, a change which was not unnoticed by the rest of the crew.

  The Beijing was still without a first officer, but Jiang had stepped up as the de facto XO admirably. She couldn’t stay there, of course, and Liao would have to find a replacement for Sheng. There were hundreds of potentials out there, most of them from the other nations of the world, but she hadn’t found the time to go through them yet. About a week after the battle, though, she learned she wouldn’t have to.

  In one of her daily reports to Earth she was told, somewhat regrettably, that the TFR Sydney would not be ready to launch for another four months due to issues with its navigation system. The work crews had, for months, blamed Iranian steelworkers for the issues with the structural defects in the ship’s superstructure interfering with the long range radar, but it was discovered that it was the long range radar system itself (designed by the PRC) that was at fault. The ship’s core systems would require extensive rework.

  Accordingly, the Tehran’s first officer, Commander Kamal Iraj,
was offered to Liao to replace Sheng. The move was entirely political – an effort to save face and appease their allies. When the truth was discovered (the Australians didn’t care about whose fault it was), the Iranians threw wild accusations back and forth until finally the PRC had offered to make the Beijing’s first officer one of their own.

  Liao didn’t care about the nationality of the officer though. She wanted someone who spoke good English (like all her crew), who was skilled and dedicated to their job, and someone who could give her advice but not get their noses out of joint if she refused it.

  Mister Iraj seemed to fit the bill quite nicely. His operational history showed that he had served with distinction in a number of fields, and most importantly to Liao, wasn’t driven to command. He had only been offered the position due to his outstanding performance in his role as logistician, and he himself even admitted that he was only accepting the job because he was the most logical choice for the position.

  But the appointment of Mister Iraj seemed like a lifetime away. Today, Liao and Yu partook in another round of language exchange with Saara in her cell as the marines looked on. Liao couldn’t help but feel vaguely uncomfortable with their serious, dour faces as they studied the Toralii woman. There was a lot of continuing anger about her presence. Liao knew that, but they were there to follow orders.

  “Where do you come from?”

  Liao had asked this question before, but it was an important one. The Toralii could not physically speak their language and they could not speak hers. Instead they took turns, each speaking their own language.

  ["From... star."]

  It had taken Liao a number of days to become accustomed to their phonetic structure, but she could understand what the creature was saying fairly well. They had learned the words of each others’ languages by pictures; they would show Saara a picture, then say the word until she learned it. Then she would say her language’s word until the humans learned it.

  “Which star specifically?”

  Saara shrugged helplessly. How could she give them the exact location of her home system? The language barrier aside, it was clear that this information was something she did not want to divulge, even if she knew it. Liao tried another question.

  “Why did you attack us?”

  Another shrug.

  Liao and Yu had prepared sketches for today’s lesson, which they produced. The first sketch was a variety of human foods which Liao gave names to. Both Yu and Liao were startled by how quickly Saara grasped their language. She usually only required them to show her a new concept once or twice before it was stamped into her brain. It was a remarkably quick process, although due to the nature of it, abstract concepts such as “economics” or “honour” proved difficult.

  This was a two way street, as well. The two humans had to learn Saara’s strange Toralii language so they could understand what she was saying back to them. This proved easier than Liao had imagined. The Toralii dialect Saara spoke (at least, this is what Liao thought she was trying to say) was specifically designed to be as easy to learn as possible.

  Even so, Liao observed that Saara learned as fast as she healed, which was almost supernaturally fast.

  ["Apple. Pear. Peach. Plum."]

  “Apple. Pear. Peach. Plum. Very good. The apple – how does it taste?”

  ["Sweet."]

  “Sweet. And the tomato?”

  ["Tomato... savoury."]

  “Savoury. Again, very good.”

  And so it went on for weeks as the Beijing hid in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. Liao and Yu broadened their knowledge of Saara and taught her their own. Liao and Yu together found that Saara was outpacing them both. She could hold a basic conversation within no time and, as they grew close to the Moon, her fluency was startling. When her language skills had improved enough they had given her a dictionary, which she had spent every last second devouring with a voraciousness that was surprising.

  Three days before their arrival at the lunar colony, Liao and Yu stepped into Saara’s cell to begin their daily lessons. As they did, they saw that Saara was muttering quietly to herself – a kind of a chant or incantation, based on the rhythmic nature of her intonations.

  “Are you alright?” Liao asked, causing Saara to jump – obviously she was not expecting anyone to listen.

  ["Yes. I was merely reciting one of the stories of my people."]

  “Stories?” The Toralii’s grasp on the language improved daily, and Melissa remained impressed with Saara’s progress.

  ["That is correct. Of the Toralii, my people are called the Telvan... much as you are Chinese, from within the humans. The Telvan... we are documentarians and academics. We document and record what we can about everything we find. A useful way to store this information, and the way many lessons are taught in our..."] she struggled for a moment, ["...education buildings for children... is that we retell them as a story."]

  “Education building for... you mean a school.”

  ["Yes... school."]

  On a wild impulse, Liao smiled. “Perhaps our lesson today could take the form of a story then? You talk, and we’ll listen.”

  Saara’s eyes widened in confusion. ["You wish to hear one of my people’s stories?"]

  Yu chimed in. “Of course. We want to hear everything you have to say... Everything we can learn from you is something valuable for us. Stories are an important transmitter of cultural values. It is from your stories that we can judge you, much as you have no doubt judged us.”

  Saara seemed impressed, but her eyes flicked cautiously to the watching marines. Nevertheless, she seemed to smile with her eyes, more than her lips, her ears perking up.

  ["Perhaps you would hear the story of our greatest treasure, then.

  ["Back before our people united under a single cause, we were fractured, warlike, quarrelsome people who grouped in nation-states and fought constantly with our own kind. The hills of the Kaater Mountains, they say, saw so much fighting that they were forever stained the colour of dried blood.

  ["Eventually, as these things tend to do, the strongest of all the armies, the Neralan, broke through the battle lines and pressed on through the defender’s homelands. They were intent on plundering and pillaging, and the stories they heard as they moved through the ruined townships near the battle lines excited them to no end. Tales of Evarel‘s most beautiful and most precious treasure, held by the Autiellans.

  ["The more they heard about this treasure, the more they desired it. Moving beyond the barren wastelands of the battlefield and into the lush, fertile farmland of Autiella, whose armies were broken and no longer able to defend their land, they heard little else. Eager for conquest, and with their bloodlust stoked to a roaring flame, the Neralanese wanted the treasure... and at first they tried the direct approach.

  ["The first village the Neralanese raided was slaughtered save a single survivor. When they interrogated her, she told them that the treasure had previously been there, yes, but was there no longer... The village over the mountain had it. She would say no more despite their best efforts, so they executed her and moved on.

  ["The second village they raided, the one over the mountain, was more carefully planned. In a lightning raid, the farmhouses were torched and the entire population of villagers rounded up and captured. But these Autiellans too insisted that the treasure had fled the village when the Neralanese arrived. Once again, the Autiellans would not say what the treasure was. But looking around them at their fertile lands, happy and fat citizens, and many children, the Neralanese reasoned it must be powerful indeed.

  ["Executing the population of the second village and moving on, the Neralanese took even more care with their next raid; it was conducted under the cover of darkness, and the Autiellan guards were disabled by darts filled with sleeping poison. It looked as though this raid, like the last, would be a success... but the Neralanese had driven too far into Autiellan territory. As the main army approached the village, seemingly unopposed, the Autie
llans’ reserves sprung their ambush and the surprised Neralanese were butchered.

  ["The leader of the Neralanese was bought before the Autiellans and, in a voice approaching that of madness, he asked the Autiellans if the treasure was in this village. They responded that it was. Before her execution, she was asked if she had any last requests – the leader said that she wanted to know what the treasure was.

  ["The Autiellans explained that the greatest treasure their people could ever have... was peace. It had brought them bountiful crops and happy lives. Some say the Neralanese leader realized the folly of her actions before she was executed, while others insist that she went to her grave cursing and spitting at the Autiellans for their ‘lies’. What is certain, though, is that the Neralanese never invaded Autiella again."]

  Liao could barely believe that the species that had attacked her home planet would have such complex morals, especially ones that would hold peace, of all things, in such high esteem. It was like meeting Genghis Khan only to have him pontificate about the joys of monogamy.

  “It’s... certainly an interesting story.”

  ["It is."]

  Liao considered it for some time, holding her chin in her hands. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and reserved.

  “Since you claim that peace is the greatest treasure a society can have, do you think there will ever be peace between our people?”

  Then it was Saara’s turn to be introspective. Her yellow eyes flicked between Yu and Liao, examining each of them in measure, the Toralii female ever so carefully considering her response.

  ["Yes, assuming you abandon your efforts to develop Voidwarp technology.”]

  The two humans exchanged a confused glance. ‘Voidwarp.’ Saara had used a word which they didn’t understand, but which used as its root two other words they had learned together.