Escape 1: Escape From Aliens

by T. Jackson King

  “Audio link established,” the AI said, its tone now sounding curious.

  Bill had wondered for days whether the AI’s tone changes were due to thought and emotion, or simply a random algorithm that guided the AI in its imitation of biological life. A check of the system graphic showed them far south of the planetary plane of ecliptic. In an hour they would reach the seventh orbital. At which point they could go FTL. That hour gave plenty of time for a chat with their three passengers.

  Jane crossed hands over her lap. “Wind Swift, Learned Escape and Builder of Joy, please come to the Command Bridge. We have delivered the last of our captive guests to their home world. And one of my crew has pointed out that some of you may wish to be returned to your home world before the Blue Sky sets off for a confrontation with the society that created this system of Buyers, Collector ships and Market worlds. Please come to the Command Bridge so I can learn your wishes.”

  “On my way,” barked Wind Swift.

  Chittering echoed through the room. “This one just awoke,” said Builder of Joy. “I respond to your invitation.”

  “Captain, with reluctance I depart the Water Pool,” said the color-coded voice of Learned Escape.

  Jane nodded to the silvery scaled reptile who’d brought up the issue. “Purposeful Guide, I’ve called them. Shortly we can all hear the wishes of our other guests.”

  To Bill’s right Bright Sparkle shifted in her seat to face him. The black-haired woman fixed jade green eyes on him. She smiled. It was a normal, human-like smile which he’d learned was also natural to her Megun people. “Weapons Chief, I doubt my friend Learned Escape will wish to be taken home. Like me, he finds this ship and its effort to spread freedom within the Buyer system to be the adventure of a lifetime. As do I.”

  Turning to face the nearly naked woman whose color bands flowed in complex shapes over her body brought him into sight of his captain. Who was watching him and Bright Sparkle with a look he might have labeled jealousy. Biting his lip, he gave the Alien woman a return smile.

  “Thank you Bright Sparkle. I’m glad to hear that. It seems to me that having someone onboard who teaches survival to young Megun will be valuable when we enter the Market world home system.” Bill gave a nod to the holo of Jane. “And Captain, I think it would be useful to include all crew, and all guests who wish to help, in our planning discussions for what we might do in the Kepler 443 system.”

  The woman who led them all gave him a speculative look. Then a half-grin. “Once more you escape, Senior Crewman MacCarthy.” She paused, licked her pale lips, and glanced around the Command Bridge. “Crew, I agree with our Weapons Chief. Once we enter Alcubierre space-time, headed wherever, let us gather for a meeting to discuss both strategy and tactics.”

  Behind Bill came the sound of a door whooshing open. He looked back.

  In came Wind Swift, wearing a fabric skirt. Her silvery scales glowed in the room’s yellow light. Her red eyes scanned the room, then she moved to stand next to Jane’s elevated command pedestal. Behind her came their second flying squirrel person. Builder of Joy’s brown-furred tail and arm flaps flared out widely, as if he were excited. Third and last in was the human male form of Learned Escape. The Megun’s color-banded skin flowed in a pleasing mix of green, yellow, gold, red, purple and black. The Alien man who taught jungle survival skills to young Megun waved at everyone, then came to a stop beside Jane’s pedestal. He looked up, green eyes fixing on their leader.

  “Captain Jane Yamaguchi, I and the others respond to your invitation,” he said, his shoulder speaker and vidcame translating his body’s color speech into English.

  Jane looked down at the new arrivals, then out to the other crew members. “People, former captives, I thank you all for your service to the Blue Sky. Your help has made it possible for us to return former captives to their home worlds. The two Doman, who we returned today, were the last of the captives who wanted to go home.” She looked down at the three gathered next to her captain’s seat. “But what are your wishes? We will return any of you to your home star. Or you can travel with us to Kepler 443, where we will seek to undermine the system where the taking of captives for sale as slaves first began.”

  Wind Swift stirred. She stood up straight, leaving her thick tail to hover just above the room’s deck plates. “Captain, I enjoyed my work as a mining engineer,” she barked softly. “While I cherish my freedom from captivity, and have enjoyed the travels of this ship, I do wish to return home. To my world of Vibrant.”

  Jane blinked. “Star Traveler, what is the home star of Wind Swift? In human terms.”

  A low hum sounded. “The Cheelan star is recorded as Kepler 22. It is located 620 light years from your Earth. Its star is a G5V yellow dwarf slightly smaller than Sol. Five worlds are known to orbit the star.”

  She paused. “Does it lie in the direction of Kepler 443?”

  “It does,” the ship mind said calmly. “Both stars lie in your Cygnus constellation grouping.”

  “Good.” Jane scanned the two other guests. “Learned Escape and Builder of Joy, what are your wishes?”

  The flying squirrel’s brown fur fluffed out. “To stay on this ship! It is the adventure of a lifetime,” chittered Builder of Joy. “Perhaps I can assist our Weapons Chief in building new drones or other devices for protection of this ship.”

  Learned Escape looked at Bill, next to Bright Sparkle, then back to Jane. “Captain, guider of this ship, our Megun people have long hoped to do what this ship now does. Travel star to star and meet new, exotic people! I am willing to stay on this ship forever! And I offer my survival lessons to any crew member who wishes to study them.”

  Jane looked pleased. “Thank you, all three of you, for your patience as we returned other captives to their home worlds. The two of you who remain are welcome and I am sure we can find work for each of you.” She looked to Wind Swift. “As for you, young lady, when we reach the edge of this system’s magnetosphere we will set course for Kepler 22. It is on the way to our target star. And perhaps your people will supply us with hydrogen isotopes for our engines and fusion plants.”

  Wind Swift clapped together her four-fingered hands. “Thank you! My gratitude is boundless. And I volunteer to speak to our Cheelan authorities on your behalf. Although my fellow Cheelan Purposeful Guide may be a better help. His work managing the orbital complex above our world makes him an ideal helper for your refueling needs.”

  Jane struggled to maintain her officer’s composure in the face of the Cheelan’s excited manner. “Thank you, Wind Swift. Once we arrive at Kepler 22, and see what the situation is, I will decide then on how to contact your Cheelan authorities.” She looked at the other two guest captives. “Meanwhile, all three of you are welcome to stay on the Command Bridge until we enter the Alcubierre space-time modulus and go FTL. Star Traveler, generate benches or seats for our three guests.”

  In the back of the room there rose three silvery metal blocks. Two of them became open-backed seats while the third became a bench suitable for use by the kangaroo-like form of Wind Swift.

  Jane folded hands in her lap. “Star Traveler, what is the distance from the Doman star of EPIC 201367065 to Kepler 22? And the estimated travel time?”

  The AI’s standard hum was brief this time. “Distance from this local star to Kepler 22 is 681.687 light years. Travel time will be 27.27 days.”

  “Almost four weeks,” Jane murmured. “Well, that gives us plenty of time to rest, relax, repair stuff and consult on our battle plan for Kepler 443.”

  Bill felt pleased by the long travel time. He could get in a true regime of endurance and strength training. For endurance he ran laps along the two main hallways, which came out to a half mile of running and ducking through hatchway doors. For strength he did pushups and sit-ups under a two-G gravity field. For breaks he alternated between a dip in the Water Pool Chamber and a relaxed lie-about on the green grass of the Greenery Chamber. While Greenery had no crickets or birds or buzzing drago
nflies like he was used to from the Colorado Rockies, still, it was a large chamber filled with aspen-like trees, dark green bushes that resembled sagebrush and red-barked, gnarly-trunked small trees that resembled the madrone of the West. Plus there was a small blue pond in the middle of the meadow. Both the meadow and the pond were near the entrance from the hallway. While he often met fellow captives in both chambers, the sleep periods of most Aliens on the Blue Sky were similar to Earth’s night-time, since nearly all of them hailed from G-type yellow stars. He’d learned that visiting the Water and Greenery chambers in the middle of the ship ‘night’ guaranteed him some privacy. In particular he enjoyed lying on his back in the Greenery Chamber. A request to Star Traveler led to night’s darkness and a ceiling that glowed with the white star band of the Milky Way and other star clusters as seen from the high Rockies. He found it relaxing to lie there and stare up at the stars, wondering which ones might be friendly and which might be dangerous.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  One night a week into the trip to Kepler 22, Bill entered the Greenery Chamber, aiming for another lie-down on the meadow grass with a relaxing night sky star viewing. As usual the chamber was yellow-lighted. A word to Star Traveler was all it took to change it to night-time. But his usual lie-down spot looked different. Instead of the normal vibrant green of the Alien version of grass, he saw large patches of pale yellow grass. It looked dead.

  He frowned, then looked around at the encircling trees, shrubs and madrone root snarls. A good third of them also looked yellowish, or some color not natural to them. The broad green leaves of the aspen-like trees resembled the golden brown of fall in the Northeast. Which shouldn’t be, given the constant 70 degree temp the AI maintained in all ship rooms and chambers. Except for the habitat rooms which were set at whatever temp the Alien liked. He walked across the grass, happy that most of it was still green and healthy. Drawing closer to the jumble of white-barked aspens and red-barked gnarly root trees, he noticed how the soil around the base of some trees was discolored. Instead of the normal dark brown of the room’s soil, this soil showed black streaks. He stepped further into the small forest area, counting the number of trees with black streaks at their base. When he had counted twenty-three, a whooshing sound came from the entry door. He looked back through the yellow-lighted forest, wondering who would show up in the middle of the night.

  Through the intervening tree trunks, branches and discolored leaves he saw a flash of silver. Leaning to one side to gain a clearer view, he felt astonishment.

  The kangaroo shape of Purposeful Guide had entered the chamber. His silvery scales, long thick tail and red eyes were unique among the Aliens on board the Blue Sky. What was even more unusual was the gray metal bucket that hung from the creature’s four-fingered hands. It seemed heavy, judging from the slowness with which the Cheelan moved. What was he doing here?

  Purposeful Guide looked around the chamber, then he spoke. “Star Traveler, reduce yellow illumination to Cheelan normal. Increase ultraviolet and infrared levels to match my home star.”

  “Adjusting,” said the AI in a calm voice.

  Bill blinked as the scene before him grew redder and less bright. Still, the yellow illumination matched that of a late afternoon in the Rockies. While he wondered at the Cheelan’s presence, old habits kept him still and quiet. His SEAL training had emphasized the value of silent observation of an enemy village, compound or campsite. You could pick up clues about hidden movements, based on the sounds of birds and the crunching of gravel or forest duff underfoot. Peering closely, he saw the reptilian Alien stop in the middle of the meadow. He reached into the heavy bucket with one hand, which came out with a cup filled with something dark. Purposeful Guide tossed the cup’s contents to one side. And always onto the green areas of the grass. What the fuck? Moving slowly in his hiking boots, Bill headed through the forest trunks, keeping under cover as he grew closer to the kangaroo reptile.

  “Soon, soon, we will be home,” Purposeful barked in a low melodic tone. Was that Cheelan singing? “Soon, soon this ship will seek help at my complex. Soon, soon, this ship will be mine,” the Alien bark-sang as it moved across the meadow, tossing out cups of the dark liquid onto the green grassy areas.

  Puzzlement filled Bill’s mind. Sure, when the Blue Sky arrived at Kepler 22 and contacted the Cheelan authorities, the ship would seek to top off its deuterium and tritium fuel tanks. And maybe pick up some natural foods pleasing to one or more crew members. Since the orbital complex that Purposeful had managed was the only one in orbit above the Cheelan world, it made sense to stop there. But stopping for refueling did not equate to ownership. Unless the Alien knew something Bill didn’t. Moving slowly and stepping softly, he came to the edge of the forest. Standing behind a aspen thick as a boulder, he peered around it.

  Purposeful Guide’s bucket seemed lighter. The Alien stopped, looked around, then headed for a aspen tree at the edge of the forest. Bending down, the Alien dipped the cup into the bucket, pulled it out and poured the dark concoction onto the ground at the base of the tree. A healthy white-barked aspen it was, with green leaves. Certainty grew in Bill’s mind as he saw how the dark fluid left a black streak on the ground at the base of the tree. He stepped out into the yellow-spotted meadow.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  The horse-like head of Purposeful Guide jerked up. Two red eyes fixed on him. Loud barking echoed over the meadow. “You! You mammal! Leave this chamber! I am bringing nourishment to the trees and grass of this place.”

  Bill moved out into the meadow. He avoided a fresh black spot on the grass. Moving sideways so he stood between the chamber’s door and the Cheelan, he gestured at the yellow-spotted grass. “Nourishment, hell! This grass is sick. And the black streaks at the base of those trees have killed its leaves. Why are you killing the grass and trees?”

  The Alien dropped the bucket and cup, turned to face Bill and reached out with silver-scaled arms. Each finger grew a yellow claw. The Cheelan’s mouth opened, showing a dozen sharp canines. Purposeful Guide’s dark red tongue moved as he spoke in a series of barks and yelps.

  “You know nothing! These changes are normal to the Greenery Chamber! I am the manager of Life Support!”

  It was a lie of course. Bill knew that just by reading the Cheelan’s body stance and voice tones. A sense of danger impending flowed through Bill. He liked it. He hadn’t felt this threatened since the fight with the Mok cougar. Shifting his stance, he leaned forward a little, held his arms out to either side and opened his eyes to every movement of every part of the Alien who stood just twenty feet from him. Words often lied. An opponent’s body never lied. While experienced fighters knew how to deceive, to mount a feinting movement, he judged this two-legged, two-armed reptile to be a bureaucrat. A manager of things and people. Not someone trained in fighting to the death.

  “It is you who are lying,” Bill said softly. “Star Traveler, call Captain Jane and show her a holo of what is happening in this chamber. Tell her to come here quickly.”

  “Complying.”

  Purposeful Guide stomped forward, his silvery-scaled arms outstretched as his claw-tipped fingers curled. “Mammal! Live-birthers! You are an abomination to all that is normal! I managed an orbital complex! But your female gave me only Life Support to manage. She should have assigned me control over the entire crew!”

  Bill enjoyed the sense of impending violence. He knew he could take the Alien in a one-on-one battle. But the creature’s frantic anger made him wonder. “Star Traveler, what did Purposeful Guide tell you was the purpose of the black gunk he has been spreading on the grass and the trees? Surely you inquired when some greenery began dying.”

  “I inquired,” the AI hummed. “Bioform Purposeful Guide stated the bioplant changes were normal. He stated the application of waste oil residue to the grass and trees was helpful. The trees and grass are made of hydrocarbons. The oil is a hydrocarbon. Is this not correct?”

  Purposeful’s red ey
es blinked. “Stupid ship mind!” The Cheelan closed the distance to ten feet.

  Bill smiled. “Star Traveler, recall how Diligent Taskmaster told you the people occupying the containment cells were guests? That was an untruth. What Purposeful Guide said is also an untruth.”

  “Sadness fills me,” the AI said. “Bioforms are such—”

  The Cheelan jumped at Bill. “Kill all gravity in here!” he barked.

  Bill’s combat instincts made him kick at the ground so he rose up to intercept the oncoming form of the Cheelan.

  They met in midair.

  He ducked his head below a claw swipe of one Cheelan arm, then grabbed its fabric skirt and pulled the Alien close to him.

  “No!” Purposeful Guide barked, grabbing his left shoulder with four sharp claws that bit through his shirt and into his muscle. “You dangerous mammal! You must be shown—”

  His left fist hit the underside of the Cheelan’s jaw, shutting it up for the moment. Twisting to grab its waist with his legs in a free-fall chute maneuver he recalled from early training at San Diego, Bill pulled himself around until he was on the arching back of the Cheelan kangaroo. Below him the creature’s thick tail whipped up, trying to dislodge him. Wrenching his left shoulder free, he reached under each armpit of the Alien and then up, locking his fingers behind its scaly neck. Pushing forward with his knees and pressing forward and down with his hands, he held the Alien in a full Nelson headlock. Even though its claw-fingers raked at his arms, trying to break the headlock, he didn’t let go.

  A whooshing sound told him that Jane was here.

  “Bill!” she cried.

  Twisting in midair he wrenched over in a way that caused the Cheelan’s belly to face the access door.