Messinants

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Messinants Page 22

by S. H. Jucha


  “By doing what?” Belinda prompted.

  “By showing us scenes that prompted us to share our thoughts and feelings. Didn’t you notice some of the more gruesome ones?” Hamoi asked.

  “I see your point, Hamoi,” Jessie said. “If we had found those ugly scenes enjoyable, even titillating, it would have warned the Jatouche of our dark natures.”

  “Oh, for the love of Pyre, what if we fail the test?” Darrin moaned.

  “I don’t think it’s a pass-or-fail system, Darrin,” Jessie said, trying to calm everyone’s anxiety. “It’s probably more a matter of gradation. Let’s hope our score rates their help.”

  After midday meal, Hamoi took the first shift at the console. When his turn ended, Jessie was next. He was on his eleventh scene when he gave up. The images had become so abstract that he was at a loss for words to describe them. Jessie signaled his submission to Kractik, and Hamoi eagerly jumped up to take his place.

  Unlike the previous rotation process, Kractik kept playing scene after scene for Hamoi. One hour became two and then three. Eventually, Hamoi’s eyes blurred, and his mouth dried. Finally, he lost focus, and Kractik stopped the console’s operation.

  Hamoi walked woodenly over to the platform and slumped down. His enthusiasm was gone. “Sorry, Captain,” Hamoi said. “I ran out of fuel, couldn’t focus. It felt as if the images were intentionally stressing.”

  “They might have been doing just that,” Jessie replied. “Since this morning, you’ve had me thinking about what the Messinants intended to measure with this operation, over and above recording our language.”

  “Such as?” Belinda asked.

  “Patience, perseverance,” Jessie replied.

  “And I failed,” Aurelia said dejectedly.

  “It won’t be a matter of the success or failure of any one of us,” Jessie said. “The console is examining us as a race. And, you,” Jessie said, clamping a hand on Hamoi’s shoulder, “might have scored extra points for us.”

  Jaktook stood beside Tacticnok, as Jakkock finished the transfer of the language database and species analysis results from the console to his translation device.

  “They exhibited fortitude,” Jaktook said quietly.

  “For a young race, they did well,” Tacticnok agreed,” but let’s wait to see what Jakkock tells us.”

  Jessie and his crew watched the Jatouche descend below deck.

  “They can’t be leaving,” Darrin said. “That way’s out,” he added, hooking a thumb at the platform behind him.

  “It’s probably time for them to assimilate our language and make a decision about us,” Jessie replied. “Well, we know where to retrieve our vac suits, sleep, and eat. I think we’re free to do anything of that nature until they’re ready to talk to us.”

  “Or they leave. In which case, we could spend several lifetimes trying to figure out how to follow them,” Hamoi commented in a desultory fashion.

  * * * *

  The Jatouche reclined comfortably on their pallets, while Jakkock finished compiling the translation software. Hours later, when he completed that aspect of his duties, he commented quietly, “Phase one complete.” Then he resumed his work, which was the analysis of the responses to the console’s images.

  Jakkock’s programs analyzed various aspects of the six aliens. The console rated each speaker, producing displays of language dexterity and their natures — aggressive to passive; empathetic to emotionally neutral; intrigued by suffering to averse to it.

  Late in the evening, Jakkock lifted his short muzzle to Jaktook to indicate his efforts were complete. It was left to Jaktook to wake a sleeping royal member. He lightly touched Tacticnok’s shoulder, but it didn’t wake her. Emboldened, he gently stroked her arm, and she murmured softly. When Tacticnok came awake, she smiled at Jaktook before she fully realized her whereabouts. Then she abruptly sat up, and commanded, “Report,” to cover her lapse.

  “Jakkock has finished his work and is ready to present his summary,” Jaktook said.

  “Water, please?” Tacticnok asked, which gave Jaktook an opportunity to leave her presence and act in a subservient fashion — all to hide the indelicate moment.

  “Ready when you are, Jakkock,” Tacticnok said, accepting the cup from Jaktook and taking a few sips.

  “In language, the aliens are competent,” Jakkock began. “There is sufficient complexity to indicate highly developed social skills. However, there is a lack of descriptive quality when it comes to common planetary scenery.”

  “Then these particular aliens aren’t recent arrivals,” Jaktook ventured.

  “Explain,” Tacticnok requested.

  Jakkock lifted his analysis device off his lap and set it aside. “This analysis indicates that these aliens have been here long enough that we’re speaking to descendants of those first to arrive. I would estimate multiple generations have passed. Jessie Cinders and his associates have never seen a forest in full bloom, delicately colored skies, or star rises over a planet’s normal atmospheric horizon. Perhaps in recorded form, but the data indicates that they probably haven’t personally witnessed them.”

  “Understood. Proceed,” Tacticnok said.

  “The language translation software deems an approximately eighty-two percent accuracy factor for our initial conversations, Tacticnok,” Jakkock said. “I advise caution to ensure that new terms introduced by the aliens are closely questioned. Furthermore, items common to us will not have equivalencies in their language.”

  “So simpler speech is better,” Tacticnok said, her head tipped in thought.

  “Yes,” Jakkock replied. “Now to the analysis of their nature. They’re direct in their speech, often blunt. What I find illuminating is the similarity of their scores. When each individual was shown scenes with a common purpose, their descriptions had a great deal of commonality. There is little guise in their thinking.”

  “You’re saying, they’re honest in thought and speech?” Tacticnok asked.

  “Perhaps these six are,” Jittak interrupted. “Who knows about the rest of the species?”

  Tacticnok leveled her gaze on Jittak. “I would hear Jakkock’s analysis without your conjectures, Jittak. There will be time later to share your general negativity.”

  Jaktook, who was within Jittak’s eyeline, was careful to keep a neutral expression and glance aside. Tacticnok’s rebuke surely had stung, and he had lost favor with his men. If they were to leave and return a third time, Jaktook thought that Jittak might not be allowed to accompany them.

  Jakkock waited for Tacticnok to look at him before he continued. He was of a similar mind as Jaktook. The officer had overstepped himself more than once and risked the ire of a royal family member when they returned to Na-Tikkook.

  “What of the aliens’ propensity for aggressive behavior?” Tacticnok asked, trying to mollify her remonstration of Jittak.

  “It isn’t inconsequential,” Jakkock stated, which perked up the ears of the entire Jatouche party. “Let me explain,” he said quickly to quiet the fears, which were evident. “It’s highly directed. In other words, their language doesn’t indicate that they’re aggressive, as such. However, if they sense an injustice or detect a wrong being committed against another, especially the weak, their language suggests that they will be quick to take action.”

  Jittak’s eyes pleaded with Tacticnok, and she replied, “Ask.”

  “Does your language analysis, Jakkock, indicate the extent to which these aliens will go to achieve justice?” Jittak asked.

  “I interpret the data as they would probably exhibit a low to moderate response. Interestingly, it’s the younger members who have the lower response levels toward injustices. Jessie Cinders exhibits the greatest desire to hold those responsible for their poor behavior.”

  “Perhaps, you should learn to be nice to Jessie Cinders, Jittak,” Jaktook suggested, which earned him a severe glance from Tacticnok. Jaktook received her message clearly. It was, “Don’t antagonize the officer.”


  “We could listen and question your analysis all evening, Jakkock, but you’re the linguist. You’re the expert. I would like your summary,” Tacticnok requested.

  “It must be understood, Tacticnok, that these individuals are but a small sample of the population. To make generalities based on testing only six of them is to risk making grave errors,” Jakkock replied.

  “Your cautions have been heard, Jakkock. I don’t intend to embrace them as a whole. We’ll continue to take small steps, if your analysis indicates it’s safe to proceed. Is it?” Tacticnok asked.

  “All things considered, Tacticnok, these aliens might, one day, become our favored allies,” Jakkock pronounced.

  Jaktook and Kractik beamed. Jittak frowned, and his soldiers maintained neutral expressions in the face of his displeasure.

  Tacticnok digested the statement, as if she was mulling the possibilities, but inside she was overjoyed. She had hopes for this species after watching the original imagery of them trapped in the dome and the recent days’ initial interactions. Something told her to have the courage to come to the Gasnarian moon, and now the Messinants’ tests and Jakkock’s analysis were proving her intuition correct.

  “Sleep now,” Tacticnok ordered. “We’ll need sharp minds for tomorrow. Jakkock, program the ear wigs.” With that, Tacticnok lay down on her pallet, the hint of a satisfied smile on her face.

  The remainder of the team hustled to finish what needed to be done, and turn out the room’s lights, which issued from the seams where the walls met the ceiling.

  Jakkock kept a small light on, which was attached to his pallet, while he programmed the number of ear wigs he required for tomorrow. Having recorded images of the aliens, he’d modeled ear wigs to fit them, having brought thirty of the devices from Na-Tikkook. He would upgrade the ear wigs of the Jatouche and program the thirty in his case. The aliens would require six.

  * * * *

  In the morning, Jessie woke the crew early. By his estimation, the Jatouche would soon be ready for them. At least, he hoped they would still be present. The thought that an intelligent alien race had tested them and found them wanting, was too painful to consider.

  The crew cleaned up, trudged to the meal room, and consumed their morning’s light blue paste, which had a mixed berry flavor.

  “I’d give anything for a meal aboard the Belle,” Tully commented around a mouthful of purplish paste.

  “Echo that,” Darrin added.

  “Fresh food, yum,” Hamoi said.

  “Finish your paste,” Jessie ordered. “Get your heads around the upcoming meeting, if we’re going to have one. I haven’t got the slightest idea how we’re supposed to learn the Jatouche language, and we should all be hoping that we don’t have to figure that out.”

  The crew was dropping plates and cups into the recycler, when Jaktook entered the room and gestured for them to follow. The Pyreans followed the Jatouche down the main corridor, and Jaktook stepped through a third doorway.

  “How many rooms are laid along this corridor?” Aurelia asked.

  “The better question might be: How many levels does the dome have?” Jessie replied.

  Inside, the humans came to a halt. Unlike their humble rooms, the Jatouche occupied a much more elegant room that included a lounge area, an expanded kitchen with multiple dispensers, and subdued lighting.

  “Looks like we’ve been bunking in newbie quarters, and now we’ve been invited to the Starlight,” Belinda commented, referring to the cantina where the wealthy stationers hung out.

  Jakkock hurried forward. Jaktook took a small case from him, which Jakkock popped open and removed a small ear wig.

  “Ooh, jewelry,” Belinda commented. The ear wigs had highly polished finishes so that they weren’t easily misplaced when removed.

  Jakkock held the first one toward Aurelia. He thought the young female would be the most likely to adopt the device because of its appearance.

  Aurelia glanced at Jessie, and he tipped his head in approval. She bent her knees and turned her head for Jakkock, who chittered in delight, and slipped the ear wig into her ear canal.

  “I want one,” Belinda said, stepping toward Jakkock and copying Aurelia’s movements. Jakkock happily applied hers.

  When Jakkock turned toward the males, he received a different response. Jessie held out his hand to accept one, and, after that, the remainder of the males did the same thing.

  Jakkock stepped back and nodded to Jaktook, who briefly cleared his throat to attract the aliens’ attention.

  “Jessie Cinders, may I present Her Highness Tacticnok,” Jaktook said.

  -21-

  Pyre’s Reprieve

  There were gasps from the Jatouche, who were unprepared for the unveiling of their royal daughter, but it was intentional on the part of Tacticnok.

  For the humans, it was a strange sensation to hear the aliens’ sharp, high-pitched language immediately followed by the monotone translation issued by the ear wigs.

  When none of the aliens responded to Jaktook’s announcement, Tacticnok glanced at Jakkock, who was busy monitoring his equipment. He signaled that the audio translation had been issued.

  Jessie hand signaled a query to his crew, but he received only negative signs. Hoping he understood how the ear wigs would work, Jessie said, “Apologies, Jaktook, but we don’t understand the significance of Tacticnok’s title.”

  “Don’t you possess royal members, who rule your citizens, Jessie Cinders?” Jaktook asked, relieved to know the ear wigs and their programs were working.

  “We have leaders, but none possess this title,” Jessie replied, a frown forming on his face. It felt to him as if the introductions were off to an awkward start.

  It was obvious to both groups that the translation program wasn’t finding equivalents for some terms.

  Rather than let the day’s communications get bogged down by trivia, Tacticnok said, “I’m pleased to be called Tacticnok by you and your kind, Jessie Cinders.”

  “Welcome to Triton, our third moon, Tacticnok, though you probably have your own name for this body,” Jessie replied amiably, happy to stick to basics for opening comments.

  “We did have another name, Jessie Cinders, but we’ll want to adopt your names. Triton, it is. And, how do you call your planet?” Tacticnok asked.

  “Pyre,” Jessie replied.

  “Does this word have a meaning?” Jakkock asked.

  “It means material for a fire or burning,” Jessie replied.

  Tacticnok briefly dipped her head but chose to say nothing.

  “How do you call yourselves?” Jaktook asked.

  “We’re humans, and those of us who live in this system are called Pyreans,” Jessie explained.

  “Please, Jessie Cinders, sit with us,” Tacticnok offered, waving a hand at the lounge, which could accommodate a variety of body types.

  “You said you have leaders, Jessie Cinders,” Tacticnok said, after everyone was comfortable. “Explain this to us.”

  Be careful, Captain, Darrin signed.

  Understood, Jessie signed in return.

  This was the question Jessie had feared, and he chose to be honest rather than found the first exchange with aliens on a lie. He replied, “Tacticnok, our society is small in number. Even so, we’re divided. A female rules the planet’s domes. A male rules the stations above, and a captain leads the great ship.”

  “You say two rule, but one leads,” Jaktook noted.

  Clever one, thought Jessie, who had hoped the distinction wouldn’t be challenged. “The two leaders, who rule, have taken their positions,” he replied. “But the great ship’s captain was elected.”

  Tacticnok glanced toward Jakkock, when the translation program failed, and he shook his head.

  “Jessie Cinders, we don’t have this word elected,” Tacticnok said.

  “Elected means to be chosen by the humans who inhabit the great ship, which we call the Belle,” Jessie explained.

  “An
honored position to be chosen to lead,” Tacticnok commented.

  “You heard me speak to the Belle’s captain, Tacticnok, via the console,” Jessie said.

  The female you covet, Tacticnok thought. She wondered if this was affecting Jessie Cinders’ portrayal of the humans’ leaders.

  A thought suddenly occurred to Jessie, and he decided to act on it. “Tacticnok, you’ve felt Aurelia’s emotional sharing. We call her kind empaths. Captain Harbour leads all of Pyre’s empaths, and she is a powerful one.”

  “More powerful than Aurelia?” Jittak asked.

  Aurelia could sense the Jatouche’s fear, and she signed a warning to Jessie.

  “In truth, she is, Jittak,” Jessie replied. “But you won’t find another human who possesses more of the virtues that recommend us to you. She’s spent her adult life protecting other humans, especially those not favored by our society.”

  Jessie’s answers about Pyre’s leaders left the Jatouche confused as how to proceed, and Tacticnok excused Jaktook and Jakkock to speak privately. Jittak decided he should be part of the conversation and joined them.

  “The way forward is challenged by these humans’ lack of a unified society,” Tacticnok said, whispering.

  “I’m more concerned about the leader of the great ship, Captain Harbour,” Jittak said, deflecting Tacticnok’s point. “She’ll be more dangerous to us than Aurelia, who I judge to be a youth. In addition, this captain leads a group of empaths.”

  “Are we not more dangerous to them, Jittak?” Tacticnok challenged. “We brought energy weapons to their world, and these humans carry none.”

  “If I might interject,” Jakkock said. “The Messinants’ program indicates great consistency among these six humans, and they’ve been judged to be lacking in guile. If we wish to accept the Messinants’ analysis, then we can believe Jessie Cinders’ argument in support of the human called Captain Harbour. She must be a female of great value to those she leads.” By reminding his fellow Jatouche of the data’s origin, Jakkock raised the specter of the seemingly omniscient Messinants.

  “Agreed,” Tacticnok said, making up her mind. “We’ll speak to Jessie Cinders, and he can communicate to Captain Harbour.”

 

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