Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1)

by Helge T. Kautz

  Kyle was duly impressed. The effortlessness with which the aliens had shifted the X into their hangar was remarkable. Never in his life had he witnessed such a smooth rescue manoeuvre.

  "Valerie – what can you tell me about the conditions out there?"

  "Not too much, Captain, unfortunately. I have no outer environmental sensors, but I can tell you that the atmospheric pressure outside approximates that inside the cockpit. Whether it's breathable for you, I can't tell."

  "Hm… I'm none too enthused about just giving it a shot, but everything seems to suggest our saurian friends know what they're doing. So just let's wait a moment and see what they're up to next."

  He cracked a nutrient bar from the emergency supplies and washed it down with a deep gulp of water. The bars didn't taste any better than plasticine, but they were pretty satiating, and had everything a grown person needed to sustain a more or less healthy life. He estimated he had a two-week supply, possibly three with a little stretching. His water supply should even last longer. He postponed thinking about what he would do when the supplies ran out, hoping that by then he would have found a way back to Earth, or at least run across the humans whose existence in this sector of space Valerie had hypothesised. He'd better, because it seemed improbable that he would be able to live on the same stuff as the saurians did. In the best of circumstances his body would reject their food as not digestible. In the worst case, he'd poison himself to death with it.

  The vid-field flashed to life, "Welcome on board of the Teladi Phoenix, Captain Kyliam Brennan. I'll meet you at your ship's airlock in a mizura." The saurian rose, blinked and disappeared from the camera's view. The view-field deactivated.

  "Well then!" Kyle, muttered, more to himself than to Valerie. Butterflies churned within his stomach, it was a long time since he had felt this nervous, but this was an historic moment - the first meeting of a human being from Earth with members of an alien species. Some philosophers predicted the first such contact with alien intelligence would inevitably be a hostile one due to the enormous cultural barriers and the resulting misunderstandings. So far, the saurians had made a thoroughly peaceful impression on him, and it didn't seem much like this would change soon. They appeared to be truly professional in their manner – experienced, level-headed and always obliging. Kyle decided to be careful nevertheless.

  "Valerie, I'd need some sort of a historic slogan… kinda like 'A small step for mankind, but a giant leap for…" he paused. This was a legendary dictum, but always, always he'd quote it incorrectly.

  "The necessity of a historic slogan escapes my apprehension, Captain," Valerie retorted, "but from a human standpoint it may well be given. I can't offer any suggestions, though."

  Kyle grinned. He was a little nervous, but then again, who wouldn't? He rose from his seat and entered the airlock that was shielded within a small chamber just behind the cockpit. "Take good care of her", he ordered.

  "Aye, Captain," Valerie replied.

  Kyle's hand hovered above the opener for an instant. What if the air in the hangar wasn't breathable after all? Ah, what the hell! He hit the switch with the palm of his hand and both airlock doors whirred open simultaneously. They wouldn't have if there'd been a vacuum outside. But of course, there was no telling what the gas outside was composed of…

  Involuntarily, he stopped breathing as he took a step forward. Since the X rested on her vats and had no gangway of sorts, the hangar floor was approximately one metre below him. Bracing himself against the inner walls of the airlock Kyle leaned out a couple of centimetres. Belatedly he realised he was still holding his breath and took a deep gasp. The air tasted fresh, cool, and had no annoying odour to it whatsoever. Apparently, the saurians appreciated clean air more than humans did. Also, there seemed to be a little more oxygen in the air than he was used to; he felt energised and more alert than before.

  Kyle cowered, and then jumped the small distance to the deck fleet-footedly. He elegantly cushioned himself and looked down. He knew that below him only centimetres away beyond the hangar gates stretched the unending cold of space. He didn't think it worrisome, since all those years in service for the USC had customised him to the imminent presence of vacuum.

  The ambient lighting levels in the hangar were a little low; suggesting the saurian's sense of vision needed less brightness than that of humans. He let his eyes wander. Even considered that the X – not exactly small with her 10 by 8 metres – fitted the hangar only just, the rectangular room was quite huge in relation to the dimensions of the Phoenix. The hangar was empty apart from his ship clean to the point of being anti-septic. The walls appeared to be constructed from rectangular ochre-coloured panels. They were pierced by a couple of closed doors, which he guessed led to service areas, and a large glass screen, that probably hid an unlit office, but the light in the hangar was too dim for Kyle to see anything in greater detail.

  Kyle spun round at the hiss of an airlock opening. The hull of his ship blocked the line of sight and with his heart pounding wildly he prepared for the moment of truth: to face an alien! There was a part of him that wished for a hand-weapon – just in case naturally – but another part thanked the almighty galaxy that he didn't have one. He wiped his sweaty palms on his flight suit and squeezed past the shuttle wings towards the source of the sound.

  On the other side a door had opened as suggested by the noise, and there he saw them for the first time in person. Three saurians strode calmly towards him, their bare taloned feet causing a clicking noise on the metal deck. Their feet looked so much like their claws, that Kyle was sure they could be used to grip things or operate machines as well. The skin of the beings was divided into large corrugated plates of scales, which resembled dark green leather, both supple and resilient.

  Kyle looked them straight in they eye. What was he supposed to do? Offer a hand and shake their claws? Bow? He decided to wait.

  "Irshmashh!" hissed the middle creature with such undisguised aggression that it almost caused Kyle to take a step back. Overriding the impulse he stepped forward instead.

  Aha – with a little delay he realized what had just been said: Irashaimasu – they bid him welcome. He'd just have to connive at the angry tone. Most likely it was totally normal and didn't mean they were in an aggressive mood. He didn't know anything at all about how they normally articulated.

  "Domo", he replied amiably, "Are you Captain…?"

  "Ussandroos Melomilas Loanises. Delighted to make your acquaintance." The Captain held his head sidewise and blinked his eyes for a second. Kyle mimicked him tentatively. "Captain Brennan, are you alone on board of your ship?"

  Kyle nodded. "Yes I am."

  The saurian's crest waggled slightly. "Tssh-shh. That is what I thought."

  Loanises remained quiet for a moment and his orange-red eyes wandered over to the X before returning to Kyle. "Captain Brennan, I don't know if you are familiar with the interior of a Teladi Destroyer. I'd gladly give you a brief tour, if you were interested."

  Kyle nodded again. "Many thanks, I indeed am interested!"

  "Wonderful. Should we reach a profitable understanding later I will only charge you a small amount. In a manner of speaking, just a friend's fee." The scale crest on the saurian's head moved a little as if a bicycle pump vented a small amount of air into an inner tube.

  Kyle tried to hide his confusion. Profitable understanding? Friend's fee? They wanted to charge him for a tour of the ship as one charged a tourist in a foreign city? The saurians didn't seem to realize that he wasn't from this part of space and therefore didn't have any of the local currency at his disposal. Whatever this might be: beaver skins, crocodile teeth, stardust, glass beads or other cranky things of sorts. Apart from that: why in the entire world would a ship-tour cost anything in the first place? Well, it was too late to back out now, at least if he didn't want to lose face. Things would clarify later on, he was sure of that, so why not just let the events flow naturally and try to figure out as much as he could in the p
rocess, while giving away as little information about himself as possible. He noted that his palms were no longer wet and he wasn't really nervous anymore either. Alert and prepared for anything maybe, but nervous – no. The whole situation felt strangely stilted and perhaps a little unreal, but somehow he had started to enjoy it.

  "Well then, esteemed Captain", hissed Loanises, "Please follow me!"

  The two taciturn companions of Loanises turned with a strangely graceful shift of their clawed feet and strode towards the exit. Loanises waited until Kyle caught up before he continued. He looked at the man from Earth with a sidewise glance while they both walked through the lock.

  "Revered Captain Kyliam Brennan, can you tell me something", he asked in a confidential tone. "This wonderful material your clothes are made from, how many credits did this cost you?"

  CHAPTER 13

  We love, admire and adore those cuddly scrimpy-scales! They're warm-hearted, friendly and generous!

  Lar Miranea

  Headmistress of the Boron Orphan Fund

  The director was as similar to Nopileos as one egg is to another. He spoke with the same voice as his offspring, used almost the same facial expressions and gestures, and his scale-crest raised almost exactly as frequently as Nopileos'. The colour of his eyes was still a youthful shade of yellow, his scales a healthy shade of mid-green and his claws sharp. He was the perfect double of his egg-offspring – but of course neither he nor Nopileos were surprised. The egg-parent and their direct descendant carried almost identical genes and so their being – at least in external appearance – almost perfect copies of one another, was a normal state of affairs. It was also one of the reasons why the next generation but one brought up their descendants. The only surprising thing was that, despite Nopileos looking so similar to the director externally, internally they were fundamentally different. Nopileos was adventurous, playful and of a humorous disposition, and generally only attached secondary importance to the accumulation of credits. The Director Sibasomos was profit-oriented and calculating through and through.

  "So, you should know", said the director, as he used his spork to neatly cut off a slice of the salmon-green Ngusi-Salamander, which sat steaming in the middle of the table between him and his offspring, "that the value of the yacht is well over six hundred million credits." Nopileos was tempted to say something with the words "small change" in the sentence, but wisely stopped himself. "He who does not honour the credit does not deserve the profit." It was an old Teladi saying and Nopileos knew all too well that the director would make every effort to prevent him from having the yacht if he came to the conclusion that Nopileos did not deserve the profit. And Nopileos wanted more than anything else to climb aboard this fantastic spacecraft, and to be able to fly anywhere and everywhere, wherever he chose!

  "A colossal number of credits", he said instead, and likewise cut himself a juicy slice of the Salamander.

  "And only a little in comparison to a certain even larger sum which recently flowed into a Boron orphanage fund," Director Sibasomos replied.

  The piece of Salamander almost stuck in Nopileos' throat. The director looked his offspring straight in the eye. His scale-crest was slightly erect giving his gaze an additional mocking look. The Sezuras passed by slowly while Nopileos, his brow-scale very pale, chewed at the salamander, which suddenly no longer tasted so good.

  "So", said Director Sibasomos after a while, when Nopileos had still not answered, "the reputation of the Teladi race with the Boron has improved immensely as a result of this transaction. And you in particular" – he pointed at Nopileos with his spork – "are the acknowledged hero of the Boron people."

  Nopileos still had absolutely no idea where this was all going. From the moment the two shipyard-members had intercepted him in the ferry he'd had a peculiar feeling. Something strange was going on.

  The director continued. "An official invitation has been presented by the Queendom of Boron – you must appreciate that you will be received with the highest honour. The Ceo and I would like you to accept this invitation."

  A sense of foreboding crept over Nopileos. "And I have to get the credits back… shh-shh", he croaked in a husky voice.

  The director looked at him, completely motionless, for a while, before taking a firm hold of his drink-club and swallowing a long gulp. "You are one of the most intelligent Teladi that has ever lived, young Nopileos. Your grandfather, Ceo Ssuphandros Mikimades Isemados, is of the opinion that high intelligence will always be tempered by a certain deviation from the norm. The more intelligent, the greater the deviation." Director Sibasomos wiped his lips thoughtfully with a white serviette and stood up. "I don't entirely agree with him. Where our opinions do agree, however, is that only you can get the credits back without bringing loss of face with the Boron to the Teladi race in its entirety."

  "May I take the Ngusi with me?" asked Nopileos after a moment's oppressive silence and pointed at the hardly-touched salamander. He was in their hands. Oh, of course he had a choice. If he refused the task he would presumably have to spend the rest of his life on this shipyard as a worker, contributing to the effort to increase the company's bottom line. No yacht, no freedom, no adventure. On the other hand there was no guarantee he would be able to get the money back from his Boron friends. But it was a dead certainty that, if not the "Teladi race in its entirety" then at least he himself, would irreparably lose face with the Boron.

  "Tshh-shh," Director Sibasomos hissed in amusement. He didn't even bother to ask whether Nopileos would take on the task or not. He knew that the young Teladi would not refuse. "But of course, help yourself. I will have it wrapped up for you."

  "Thank you so much, oh generous Director Mikimades Isemados Sibasomos IX."

  CHAPTER 14

  A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything, but the value of nothing.

  Oscar Wilde

  The Teladi – that's what the saurians called themselves – were a quite curious people. Although the technology level of the Phoenix nearly matched that of a destroyer of Earth origin, it became quickly obvious that they couldn't possibly be the mysterious beings that had erected the jump-gates throughout the galaxy for so many eons. Kyle got the distinct impression the Teladi neither knew how the gates functioned or even cared about their ignorance. All they were interested in were profits, which they lusted after to a degree he found bewildering. In this they were beyond all bearing, as Kyle soon came to conclude. Obliging and helpful as they were, his guides let no opportunity pass to remind him of his growing debt. Once or twice Kyle had wished to drop a snide reply, but so far he had managed stop himself each time.

  "Captain, let us speak openly with one another", said Loanises. By this time Kyle's ear had adapted to the sibilance of the Teladi intonation and he understood every sentence with little problem. "There are a few inconsistencies connected to your appearance in this sector. I'd really like to clarify them."

  Kyle nodded in agreement. "I'd like that too."

  Loanises snorted through the nostrils of his flat snout and waited for a moment. As Kyle did not say anything further, he snorted again, louder this time. "Captain, your presence here makes my scales itch. With us Teladi it is not customary to cross-examine our guests, but I have to ask you to truthfully answer some questions. Certainly I am prepared to compensate you for valuable information with an appropriate fee." He took a seat on a bench and indicated for Kyle to join him.

  "Brilliant," replied Kyle, "I shall leave this room a rich man then!"

  "Tshh? I should not think so. But perhaps you might be able to almost balance your debt to the Teladi Trading Corporation after this conversation."

  Kyle pulled a sorrowful face and raised his hands helplessly, letting them fall back onto the table. "Go ahead, ask me something, anything at all."

  The Teladi hesitated for several seconds, as if Brennan's resigned invitation had taken the wind out of his sails. "Well, we know that your space ship is an Argon prototype. Due to the manner of you
r arrival in this solar system we can deduce that this is due to some new groundbreaking technology. As you can imagine, this interests us a great deal." The Teladi gave Kyle a penetrating gaze with his orange-red eyes. He seemed to assume a couple of things to be common knowledge with Kyle whom he thought to be 'Argon'. This in turn was cause enough for the saurian not to mince matters. When Kyle remained silent, Loanises continued.

  "As one can plainly see, your ship has been damaged and so far you have had no chance to contact Argon Prime to report your accident. We have the means and we are prepared to repair your ship which will enable you to return home." Again the Captain of the Phoenix paused to stare expectantly at Kyle, making the Earth pilot think he'd missed some nuance, which would give the saurian's statement some new significance. But even without knowing their customs in detail he knew what would follow if he agreed to this offer. The Teladi would set a fee for it, which in turn would push him further into debt. His only advantage was they still thought he was Argon and they seemed to have a reluctant respect for that people. His mind raced to find some way to turn that to his advantage. Who were these Argon and how would they react in this situation? What were the expectations they held? If he did something an Argon would never dream of doing, he'd be done for. So far, the big-talking salamander had made it easy for him. Or was this all just a rhetorical trap? All the same – he had to take his chances!