"If you have no further questions, the director of the shipyard will be ready to receive you now oh esteemed Colleague Isemados Sibasomos Nopileos IV", said Alindreos, once again stiff and formal as though asking something of a "respectable" Teladi.
"I'd be delighted, oh Brother Alindreos", replied Nopileos, whose brow-scales itched slightly from this strange, abrupt change in conversational tone.
The head of department looked at him for a Sezura or so, as though he wanted to say something, but changed his mind at the last moment and kept quiet. "Follow me."
CHAPTER 12
Oh how close fascination is to horror! One unpopulated star system after the other – but why? I lie awake at night, scared of the answer.
Dr. Pjotr Ondronov
Logbook of the Winterblossom
Kyle watched the control light for half a second as his thoughts began to race. "Valerie, what kind of signal are we dealing with here?"
The onboard computer reacted immediately, answering with her usual calm, steady voice. "It is a frequency modulated trinary data-stream, spread over seven channels. The first channel also incorporates a modulated amplitude, apparently carrying information describing the transmission protocol used in simple mathematical logic."
Kyle frowned. Put in simple words, it meant that the unknown spacecraft over there transmitted it's own deciphering-instructions as a footnote of the actual massage. "Can you do something with it?
Valerie replied without hesitation once more, which suggested that the sophisticated onboard computer was already dealing with the contents of the signal without even being asked to do so. "Its mathematical logic is very simple. The protocol described within does allow for a certain scope, though. It appears I am missing a few fundamentals presumed to be known by the sender. I am relatively certain, though, that one of the channels is an audio transmission."
"Let's hear it," Kyle ordered.
The same instant a deep sonorous rumble filled the room, which Kyle instantly identified as the noise made by heavy energy converters. There was also a loud hissing and squawking superimposed to the rumbling. It sounded like an angry cobra raging inside a henhouse. Occasionally, there seemed to be vowels and choppy consonants. Someone – or something – was talking.
"Tssh! Hshmme mss ap! Tain ussandrshhoo shmlasss lshnse dessshhh!"
The sentence repeated itself several times as Kyle attempted to picture the kind of species that would use this menacing sounding language.
"Hassshe masss apt, ain ussndroosh mlshmlasss loanshh desshhh!"
The emphasis had something very strange about it, and some of the vowels sounded so short that Kyle had to strain to notice them at all. But he couldn't help it, despite all the strangeness, the intonation sounded somewhat familiar. An improbable thought came to his mind. What if this was an Earth vessel after all, and Valerie, for some unknown reason, simply wasn't able to properly decipher the transmission?
"Valerie, are you sure that you're decoding this correctly?"
The computer hesitated for a tiny yet still noticeable moment before the answer came. "Definitively, Captain. The data assembles to a consistent audio stream only when processed by the current algorithm."
"Hm. Any chance it might be a completely different type of data that, by chance, results in an audio stream?" The odds for this to happen were negligible, of course.
"By no means, Captain," Valerie responded curtly, renouncing from an in-depth explanation as the hissing audio message came in again, with a slight modification and a distinctive impatient undertone.
"Ochshiro! Tshhh-shh! Hashhimashshhcapsh! Tshain ussandrooshhh mshomaass lshoanss dessh!"
Kyle had the impression that whoever it was, was attempting to speak more clearly. Not that this would help him to understand this unknown alien language. "Oshiro," he murmured. "Valerie, is there a video signal?" He'd really like to see the creature that was trying to make contact with him. And quite possibly, direct visual would simplify matters.
"One of the channels may be carrying a video signal but I am still working on decoding the transmission," Valerie replied.
"Oshiro… what are you trying to tell me, my strange friend?" Kyle murmured. In the common trading language that was in use on Earth for several hundred years after it had evolved from a simplified form of Japanese, the similar sounding word Okiro meant "Wake up!" Kyle half-shut his eyes in an attempt to identify each sound as the message was repeated once more. Surprised he noticed that appended to the first sentence there was now another sequence of words he hadn't heard before.
"Hashhmemashte shhh Captain Usshh Andrshoosh Melomilashhh Lshanies desss. Dshoso, nachkashh ehsh haishtte! Phsoniksh-fnshe desshu!"
Slowly, very slowly, these words began to trickle into more and more familiar patterns inside Kyle's mind. It couldn't and shouldn't be; something inside of him disavowed of it deeply, refusing to consider even the remote possibility. But still, these… noises, made by that creature over there, ordered themselves neatly into a sentence that shouldn't have been spoken in the here and now… let alone couldn't.
"Hajime mashite Captain Ussandroos Melomilas Loanises desu – my name is Captain Ussandroos Melomilas Loanises."
No way!
"Val, please tell me I'm mistaken. We can't possibly be hearing Japanese, can we?"
"I'm sorry Captain Brennan, but I can't comply with your wish. It actually is Japanese."
Again, the curring and hissing voice came through the speakers, and this time Kyle understood even more: "Hello, this is Captain Ussandroos Melomilas Loanises of the Teladi destroyer Phoenix. Come in, please."
Phoenix? Things were getting more whimsical all the time!
"I've succeeded decoding the video stream, Captain. Shall I…"
"Yes!" snapped Kyle, interrupting Valerie before she finished the sentence.
The creature that now appeared on the screen matched the mental picture he had previously made of it to such an extent that he forgot his astonishment for a moment. A broad smile lit up on his face, but disappeared as quickly as it had come.
The alien on the video field was a saurian – a large, seemingly intelligent salamander, wish polished scales, cunning orange-red eyes, a formidable brow-plate, and a limp crest on his head that looked like the inner tube of a bicycle wheel, only green, and without the air.
Apparently the creature could see him too now, as it snapped its eyes wide open and came closer to the camera with an agitated hissing noise. Then it spoke to Kyle again, this time with a noticeable effort to speak even more clearly. "We have visual, wonderful! Identify yourself, Argon pilot. This is Captain Ussandroos Melomilas Loanises IV on board of the destroyer Phoenix."
"Hajime mashite Captain Brennan, Kyle William desu. Yoroshiku onegai shimasu - My name is Captain Kyle William Brennan. Delighted to make your acquaintance." Kyle spoke slowly and full of disbelief. Perhaps he was the subject of a psychological experiment. Maybe they wanted to test his ability to adapt to a totally unexpected situation before they sent him off into the unknown for real? Or perhaps he had suffered a head-injury during the accident and was now in a delirium, fantasising all of this. It did feel real enough, though, but what had transpired during the last couple of minutes was, from a rational point of view, altogether and utterly surreal. He decided that for the time being he would base his actions on the assumption that he suffered from a physiological mirage – until such time that he could think of a reasonably good sanity-check.
"Captain Kyliam Brennan!" the saurian proclaimed in what sounded like an almost ceremonial tone. "In the name of the Teladi Trade Corporation I bid you welcome in sector Seizewell and wish you plenty opportunity to achieve great profits." After a small pause, it added: "And the same to us, naturally." Its articulation was getting worse again, as if it was already forgetting that it was talking to a life-form that must be as alien to it as it was vice versa.
Kyle had trouble understanding, and thus decided to remain largely passive. Consequently, he
replied with only a brief "Domo arigato, Captain – thank you a lot."
"Oh revered Kyliam Brennan from noble Argon brood! It's a lucky chance that we meet out here in space, so far away from your home. I'd like to take the opportunity and invite you to my ship so we can discuss this most profitable incident in greater detail!"
Kyle shook his head. He was trained to deal with all manners of situations. He had undergone many strange things, and mastered any and all of them. But this rapidly unfolding event escaped his rational comprehension. "Captain," he said, "please allow me a moment's consideration of your request." He saw the saurian turn his black claws upwards, displaying webbing, before he switched off the transmission with a flick of his fingers. For several seconds he remained in the same tense position that he had assumed during the conversation. Eventually he willed his muscles into relaxation and then sank back into the pilot seat. He needed to recapitulate, from the start.
"And slowly, Kyle", he whispered into the emptiness of the cockpit. Valerie remained silent. Now, he would try to enumerate all known facts first, and only then try to bring them in synch with each other.
Well, the facts. What were they?
First of all, the jump-drive had obviously transported him to an unknown sector of space – or a parallel universe – before it had been separated. Perhaps the jump-drive was drifting somewhere nearby and he could try and salvage it?
Second, contrary to the evidence of a century of interstellar space travel before the Terraformer war, there indeed was intelligent alien life. And he had found it.
Third, even if the existence of aliens was assumed a certainty, it was practically impossible that an accident would throw him right under their noses of all places in an unending universe! The chances were next to zero, and he didn't even need a pocket calculator to reckon the actual numbers.
Fourth, the alien spoke an archaic version of the ancient trading language of the early hi-tech centuries on Earth – pidgin Japanese. This fact alone was enough to let him seriously begin to doubt his mental health.
Fifth, said alien acted as if it were nothing out of the ordinary for them to meet him, a human being, a creature that must seem similarly strange to them as they seemed to him. On the contrary he was even light-heartedly invited to their craft as a duck would take to water.
Sixth, the saurian didn't seem to waste a single thought on the question whether he, Kyle, would even be able to breath the air on board of the Phoenix.
Seventh, why in all hell was that ship named Phoenix, a name from an Earth legend!
Eighth, he would need help in any case, and in many respects. By no means could he afford to turn down the saurian's invitation. If this wasn't a feverish dream after all, he had to inform Earth at all cost. It would be the single most important information ever reported by a human being in all of history!
Kyle spoke aloud so that Valerie would be able to follow his train of thoughts. Even though she wasn't specifically programmed to deal with logical challenges like this (and how could she have been), her powerful parallel transputer had the advantage of not needing to doubt reality. Unlike him, she would be able to deliver answers totally unbiased by emotional states of mind.
"Is there a rational explanation for me not to believe I'm inside some sort of fantastic dream?" he asked.
"Captain Brennan, my data is incomplete, but a hypothesis begins to form. First of all, it's highly probable that the malfunctioning jump-drive mistakenly locked onto the singularity utilised by a remote jump-gate. We know for a fact that there's a certain chance for this to happen. The galaxy is literally blotched with jump-gates, although humankind didn't use one for more than seven centuries. Jump-gates would certainly form natural junction points where an encounter with alien species can be expected with a greater probability than elsewhere. This can be compared to the known tendency of human cultures throughout history to settle near a river, for example."
"René Farnham never found an alien species during his mission with the Winterblossom. And none of the researchers that came after him. Not a single alien species, not one! All the star systems visited had one or more jump-gates and seemed habitable, but the fact remains, they were otherwise unpopulated. Empty as in 'refrigerator'. Exobiology 101. First lecture. And last", Kyle retorted.
"The absence of proof is not the proof of absence, Captain," Valerie replied, "not even when it comes to alien life-forms. Philosophy 101".
Kyle nodded thoughtfully. He vividly recalled all the lessons that were held on the bewildering results of the Winterblossom's historical mission. He knew the century-old debate by heart, knew all the details. There were as many different views as there were scientists and philosophers. The debate had never fully ebbed, even now, hundreds of years after the destruction of the Earth's last jump-gate.
One thing was certain though, there was at least one species that erected jump-gates in otherwise unpopulated star systems, vanishing without a trace after the act. And they had been doing so for hundreds of thousands, more likely millions of years.
This was also the reason why humanity never built more than two interstellar jump-gates: the labyrinth of alien gates had been discovered before the construction of a third gate had begun.
"What is more," Valerie pulled Kyle back from his pondering, "it can be safely concluded that the alien species that has contacted us is in close contact with a civilisation of human origin. This is the only rational explanation for them to know how the old trading language from Earth."
"So we can presume that some of the old colonies from Earth survived the Terraformer war and met up with the lizards at some later point in time."
"Correct, Captain. This also explains why the alien wasn't overly surprised meeting you here. He knows humans since his species is in close contact with homo sapiens until the present day."
Kyle nodded slowly. Finally, some light began to shine through the clouds. Valerie's explanations sounded reasonable enough. It was all the same for the on-board computer, just a large, complicated equation, and she did her best to resolve it. "What's the percentage probability that you're correct?"
"64.42%," replied Valerie in an instant.
"Well, that leaves quite some leeway for legends," Kyle said, hinting at a smile. He felt he was getting to grips with the situation now that he had an explanation – even if it was only a preliminary one. He re-opened the comms channel. It took a while until the image of the saurian reappeared. The one who had introduced himself as the Captain of the alien ship didn't look into the camera at first. He was talking to another reptile instead of which only the claws were visible, folded over a dark-green uniform. Kyle noticed they weren't using Japanese, but something that judging by the sound of it might very well be their own native tongue.
The Captain of the Phoenix turned around all of a sudden to face Kyle. He had a grim expression on his face, as if he were about to eat Kyle for dinner, but then his gaze cleared. "Oh Captain Brennan," he said in the now almost familiar sounding pidgin Japanese. It felt as if he'd intended to try and sound a little surprised, but missed the correct emphasis.
"Captain, please forgive the short delay. I'd like to accept your offer for a personal meeting and I'm looking forward to it", Kyle proclaimed.
The saurian waggled his head from left to right in a slight motion, so that the tube-like crest on his head twitched a little. "I am delighted, oh Captain Kyliam Brennan," he answered. "I'm convinced we'll find a way to mutually achieve great profits!"
Profits, why was the saurian incessantly blathering about profits? Since Kyle didn't know whether the walking talking salamander was capable of interpreting human physiognomy, he stifled the impulse to frown. Perhaps this was just a common figure of speech among the saurians. He'd soon find out.
A faint reddish flicker coming through the front screen of the cockpit diverted Kyle's attention from the saurian on the view-field. Thin transparent veils of fire were vented from several of the Phoenix' jets, slowly pushing the gigantic
ship closer to the X. Kyle was almost sure they were attitude thrusters, since the main engine at the alien ship's stern remained dark. But why were they igniting those jets in the first place? The answer came immediately.
"Captain Brennan, your permission provided, we'd like to take your craft aboard the Phoenix for your own convenience. Please do not start your engines during the manoeuvre."
Kyle accepted tersely, noting that they had simply assumed his permission and hadn't bothered to actually ask him. In any case he had not much of a choice; all he could do was sit back and watch a precision manoeuvre that closely resembled the recovery of a damaged ship in deep space. In a sense, he realised, that was exactly what it was!
The Phoenix edged closer and closer, performing a slow, gentle rotation around its longitudinal axis at the same time. It came close, dangerously so; eventually, only a few metres separated the large ship's hull from that of the X. While the outer hull of the alien ship was silently rotating directly in front of Kyle, he managed to snatch a brief view inside the other ship through a small porthole. One of the saurians stood there, not even two metres away, staring back at Kyle with inquiring curiosity, then the moment was gone, the porthole rotated out of sight. Kyle was surprised that the saurians were that small – circa 160 centimetres he estimated – but of course, there would be individual differences.
The rotational speed of the ship decreased more and more. Finally, something rolled into his view that resembled a gigantic airlock that was in the middle of opening. It gave way to a hangar and Kyle was at first mildly taken aback. He'd imagined a hangar that was supposed to fit the X to be a great deal larger than it was. But the space available appeared just about large enough to swallow his shuttle wing to wing within a few centimetres margin towards the wall. The precision with which the large ship annexed the X was amazing. The cantilevered clunky dimensions of the alien craft seemed to suggest that its movements would also be steered clumsily and only moderately accurate at best; but on the contrary, the steering was delicate and exact. The Phoenix' hangar was more or less put over the small Earth craft, and the large airlock gates closed just centimetres below its landing vats – which Valerie had lowered just an instant before. The instruments registered a very gently increasing gravitational pull towards the outer hull. The X declined the last few millimetres slowly until eventually the gravitation stopped at just below 1 G and the ship sat securely on its three vats.
Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1) Page 8