While the basic protein, carbohydrate, and lipid molecular families were same in a general sense, at least some of the individual molecular structures within these families differed from one planet to another, and therein lay the problem. The body does not take well to similar-but-different. We have a whole elaborate immune system to avoid such things. Every life form had some way to fend off foreign-body assaults and toxic substances. Similar-but-different molecules tend to interfere with the normal workings of cellular interactions. They are recognized as being foreign and possibly nasty, and that sets off energy intensive, multifaceted reactions to get rid of them.
If you were to take so much as a breath of air on a life-harboring alien planet, you would be exposed to thousands of physiologically active molecules, particles, and microscopic life forms that were all different, in some way, from anything that your body had ever experienced. It is inevitable that some of those foreign substances would prove to be poisonous, harmfully toxic, or induce some massive immune response. It was so with the Gurmatians. The species died off within eight days of the accident, all of them.
Food was a problem. The Cathian supplies that the lander had accumulated would be exhausted within five months. The ObLaDas needed to reproduce the molecules for each required nutrient in order to synthesize acceptable food stocks. They were in a rush to succeed. It was the only way to keep those beings alive over the long term, though it would become unnecessary.
In order to maintain the Cathians and handle their medical needs, the ObLaDas needed to learn about their physiology and understand their bodily functions, particularly reproduction. LePan Lukut would conduct the necessary dissections and she had fallen behind. Her laboratories were in the Filim antimodule, a long way through the rotating arms from the living quarters. LePan had been in a dither getting her laboratory ready. Some shelves had fallen open during the rounding and caused a great mess. When set alongside the hull, the antimod was upside down, unusable all during the rounding and then became weightless for a short time after the engines shut down. She was amazed at how her precious instruments could find their way into the most obscure cracks and hard-to-reach spaces.
The probe docked only days after the arms reached a sufficient speed to provide some semblance of normal gravity. LePan had little time to get her labs functional. It was a great rush, not as it should be, and LePan was always annoyed when she could not so things in the right way. It took some while to set up the dissection tables and start conducting the disassemblies. All this trouble delayed her experiments, but the delay caused its own trouble. Ordinarily, individuals selected for sacrifice would never be allowed to mix with the rest of the alien population, but this time it seemed preferable. They had no place to store them. The ObLaDas were unconcerned about the fear and hostility that the abductions would cause. There is no record that they even noticed.
For three nights they waited, always ready. Pok felt increasingly angry and driven. She ground her broad teeth together inside her lipless slit of a mouth and hardly ever spoke, but on the fourth night it happened. The fly bot came, but Sut was able to block the dart while Pok swatted it away. Zep and Pok lay down in the middle of the room, Sut slumped in a dark corner and remained as quiet as she could. They waited. A cumbersome machine came down the hallway. It had a hard time maneuvering in the small room with two bodies lying about. It fumbled around trying to get some leverage, but received no direction from its operator. The observation cameras had been disabled. Finally, the bot pushed Zep aside, got hold of Pok’s midsection, and lifted her awkwardly. Just as Pok’s body was lowered into place, Sut slipped the shields and weapons under her. The bot moved forward to lift Zep and deposited her on top of Pok. As the bot moved away, Sut edged into the corridor and ran toward the bright room. She had to make sure no one would interfere with the capture.
Zep and Pok were fitted with breathing masks, but they could still see. The heavily loaded bot rolled out through the habitat gateway, wheels squeaking. The Cathians tensed, expecting to meet one of the Hags just outside the tall doors. They intended to attack the first Hag they came across, but there was nothing in sight. They were taken through a lofty dark space beyond the habitat. It was noticeably colder there. The bot stopped suddenly and sat still in that dark space. Zep felt a strong urge to jump off and hide. It would not take much to see that she was faking helplessness. She would soon lose her chance. Pok was in considerable pain, Zep’s weight was pushing the pick handle into her side, but she did not dare move. Pok was about to lift her head when suddenly something grabbed her waist. She twisted in surprise, but the mechanical hand did not notice. It positioned her on another flat-topped carrier and took her into the waiting shuttle.
The car was small, old, scuffed up, and dirty. The bots spent some time maneuvering around in the poorly lit box until they were attached securely to the walls. The doors closed with a hiss. Even through their masks, the Cathians could smell the stench. Zep could feel the car accelerate, just as Kit described. The car seemed to travel a long way before it came to a final stop. The door flew open and they were taken quickly through some very large dark rooms and into a smaller equipment-filled space. There they were left alone.
Pok risked looking around. Kit had described the space and this seemed very similar. It was a large room with ceilings higher than their habitat, filled with instruments and equipment, hanging lights, tubes, and movable racks. Pok signaled Zep. They slipped off the carts and removed the breathing masks. It was up to Zep to make the first move; she needed to stop looking around and concentrate.
Two odd looking little bots sat motionless, shut down, no Hags were in sight. Zep could see a series of large cages against the wall to her right, but she could not make out who was there. The nearby bots seemed to be inactive. Pok grabbed the weapons that had been plaguing her and gave Zep a small pick, one of the sharp pointed weapons Sut had made from the bits they took from the captured bots. As Zep moved closer, something flew by her head; one of the small bots had jumped to life. It was a mechanical bot, built to repair equipment, but it was moving quickly. Zep was able to raise up high enough in the reduced gravity to clear the bot and smash through its top before it could turn around. She had to put her foot against the dead machine to pull the pick free. The second bot had spun itself into a corner and was easy prey for the enraged Cathian.
Pok picked up the remaining weapons and took the time to tip over the large defenseless carrier bots before they could move away. A small bot came from behind Zep and turned quickly toward the door on the far side of the laboratory. Pok ran after it and landed a fatal blow into the computer brain. Zep was tense with excitement as if some memory of Cathia’s violent and dangerous past had been revived. Pok and Zep had hoped that the Hags would be in the lab when they arrived. Now they would need to hunt them down.
Loft was still alive. Pok opened the cage door. Loft took a step to go out, then stood staring toward the far corner of the lab. She had fresh cuts on her head and lower back. Pok called her name. She was about to ask Loft if she was all right when Loft turned and stared past her with vacant eyes. Pok could do nothing to help. She just left her be, she would be safer here if things turned bad.
Til was in the next cage. She had recovered after being struck down by the flybots and apparently had been left alone. Til all but jumped onto Pok’s back when set free. She latched on with all legs and wondered how, why, what, all at once. Til was fine, scared to death, hungry, but still alive. Til had a load of questions about how they had gotten there, but Pok waved her off. There was no time for that. The Hags were probably watching and might come at any time. Without further comment, Pot grabbed a shield and an improvised spear and gave them to Til.
Til had not seen any Hags recently, but she thought one might be in the next room. Til showed Zep and Pok the small sliding door they had used. Zep began searching the room for anything useful. She found eight more air tanks and some sharp blades that could be used as knives, though they were rathe
r small. She piled her findings in the middle of the lab, while Pok and Til gathered to plan the next move. Til was young, strong, and, as of now, fearless. She had given herself up for dead or worse, and so held her life cheaply. Til was not as tough as Pot, but had become more dangerous.
They could move through the double doors, the ones Kit said the gold suit thing had used. There was definitely something in there. Should they go there first? Til rose up and swished her legs in frustration, before she would leave, she intended to wreck as much of this place as possible. These machines must be destroyed so they can never again be used to cause pain.
Til picked up some heavy rods and began smashing instruments and pulling things down from the overhead racks. Zep examined the small sliding door. No lock, it could be opened, she pointed to the floor, scuffmarks, it was frequently used. When the bust-up was finished they collected their best shields and weapons, put on breathing masks, and gathered at the doorway. Pok listened for any movement, particularly heavy sounds. Hearing nothing but muffled scrapes and chirps, she motioned that it was time. The Cathians had agreed to remain silent and move as quietly as possible. Body movements and sign language were very expressive tools and Pok motioned that they should take up positions against the door. Sounds were louder now, much more movement, but still only a light scratching. Zep forced open the door and dove to the floor just beyond the opening. Pok was ready to charge at any movement if there were bots or Hags waiting for them. With a rush, they entered the brightly lit and cluttered laboratory.
The ObLaDas had been monitoring the Cathians ever since they entered the dissection room and had watched them attack the bots and destroy their equipment. It caused a flurry of activity in the control center in the far deck of the Filim module. Nothing like this had ever happened. A signal was sent to the three ObLaDas that were in the Filim antimodule. They were ordered to leave at once. The aliens would then be isolated, at least that would give them time to figure out what to do.
LePan LuKut was the only Da on the laboratory deck. She should have left immediately, but she delayed. The sections and tissues from the alien species that had been disassembled over the ages were very important to her. She put away the Cathian samples and closed the freezer cabinets. There were no locks on anything, so they were not at all secure. Her only recourse was to gather the available bots and have them protect the storage facility as well as they could. There were not as many as she wished, but she thought it would be enough. The aliens probably did not care about those samples anyway. She was right about that, but it was a mistake to have stayed on the deck. It never occurred to the ObLaDas that any alien species might cause trouble and LePan was unprepared.
It should have occurred to them, perhaps that was the problem. The uncaring and harsh treatment the Cathians experienced had become common for all the alien species still on the Outward. This neglect had crept in unmarked over the generations of ObLa control. The aliens were taken for granted, especially for those who were not sufficiently developed to ever establish an advanced society. The poor living conditions drove down the alien’s population, leaving the survivors weakened and dysfunctional, further earning the ObLaDas’ disdain. Now three of them were fighting back.
Pok moved straight ahead, quickly bashing three small dome-shaped bots as they tried to turn and move away. They were not fast enough. The path through the middle of the lab was cluttered by a group of eight small tables, each surrounded by a mass of equipment, much of it hanging from racks strung overhead. There was a thin, desiccated-looking body on one table. Pok caught sight of more small bots just beyond that cart and took out after them. She felt awkward running on four legs and holding a weapon in this low gravity.
Til pushed against Pok’s back as she moved to the left side of the lab, almost tripping over a small, dirty old bot that she stopped to smash with the but-end of her spear. When she looked up, she was confronted by a large server bot much taller than she was and inside the point of her long spear. She hit out, but her sharp rod bounced off its hard surface. A clamp cut into her leg and pulled her off balance. Suddenly it stopped. Pok had jumped on top and was smashing away. A crab-like machine got above Til and dropped onto her back. Til spun around as two blades plunged into her shoulder, but they were too wide and too short to penetrate her thick skin. In pain, but not maimed, Til scraped the lightweight bot away, smashed it with her shield, and ran along the high wall in the direction Pok was moving.
Zep followed those two into the room, ran a few steps, and stopped cold. The adjacent wall was stacked with large cages full of moving sticks, or so it seemed. There was a sudden wave of scrapping as the Sticks grouped together and aligned themselves in Zep’s direction. The creatures had hard brown cylindrical bodies and thin, highly articulated legs. They were spindly thin straight things, with a smooth, hard, reddish-brown outer shell. There were dozens of them.
The noise changed to a clacking sound when the Stick people saw that these intruders were attacking the hated bots. Zep stood mesmerized by the coordinated unnatural swaying motion of the Sticks and their flexible legs. Her attention was snapped back to the lab by a loud crash against the far wall. The very large bot Til had bypassed was now racing across the room where it smashed itself against the wall. It blocked Pok and Til from catching two rolling service bots. These two had broken off their preprogrammed attempts at fighting and were speeding toward the exit doors. Both escaped before Til could work around the wreckage.
The three Cathians gathered before the now silent Stick people. Crowded into cages, stacked to the ceiling, they moved in unison with their tube-shaped bodies swaying and pointing as one. It seemed from a distance that the Sticks had no heads, if they did, it did not move apart from the tubular body. In fact, these things had few if any recognizable features. They had hard brown bodies with a wet-black surface around the top that was shaped like the flared end of an oboe and a few blackish patches elsewhere, but that was it. In fact, they looked like oboes with stung together piccolo legs and even though the tubular body was straight and very stiff, they were able quickly move in any direction using their remarkably jointed limbs.
Somehow, the synchronized body positions communicated their status as a captive species. Zep felt a certain degree of sympathy for them. She tentatively went up to one of the smaller cages and released the lock. The door sprang open, but the five Sticks stood motionless. A wave of soft clicking noises passed through the cages and instructed the five as they walked slowly in a single file through the gate and stood in front of the Cathians. Standing upright with their legs partially extended they were almost as tall as the Cathians, but carried only a fraction of their weight.
The five Sticks shifted positions. Each angled toward a different spot on the ceiling. When Zep and Pok took a short step back, the Sticks interpreted this as consent for their unspoken plan and they started climbing into the equipment-laden overhead racks. Pok was initially alarmed, but Zep bent her body in a calming motion. The Sticks easily moved through the racks using numerous spindly prehensile ‘fingers’ that appeared from the tips of each limb. They grabbed hold of the tubing and systematically went through the racks pulling surveillance cameras out of their sockets.
Pok took Zep and Til aside, she was anxious to move against the Hags. They had some element of surprise in their favor, but no longer. The Hags now knew that they were loose and must be planning some effort to recapture them or escape. Deciding that the Stick people were no threat, and likely were victims, Zep went along the bank of cages and opened each one. Pok and Zep returned to the first laboratory.
Pulling off the bothersome masks, they began stripping down one of the dead rolling-table bots, they needed to use it as a cart to carry spare air tanks, food, water, and the few extra weapons they could find. Pok grabbed Zep as soon as she returned and, each armed with a shield and pick, they went to the double doors. There was no window to see through, but the sharp scent of the Hags was much stronger. The double doors led through a hi
gh wall and probably out of the laboratory area. So far, the Cathians had stayed within a somewhat understood territory, now they were at a passage into the unknown. What was out there? Could they gain some notice? What good would it do?
The doors slid open with a whoosh. Two large gold suits and helmets hung from the ceiling in the small space. The outer doors opened easily, but with a gust of heavy warm air that pushed their masks hard into their face. ObLa air. The Cathians looked out into a wide dark corridor. Zep went back into the lab and grabbed one of the portable lights that hung over the operating tables. Waving the lamp at Til, signaling for her to bring more, Zep trundled out and caught up with Pok. Her first objective was to find a Hag. Their task would be immeasurably more difficult if the ObLaDas had already escaped into the trans-arm shuttle. Pok led the way, moving quickly through the wide corridor. They could barely see the row of small buildings ahead and to their right. The buildings appeared to be immensely old, with stained walls and sagging rooflines. Far down the hallway they could see the light on the large round conduit and two shuttle doors side-by-side. It was the way they had come. Pok looked closely, but she could not see any movement in either direction. She began moving toward the transit port to cut off that route of escape, when she saw a flash of light. Quickly, waving Zep to follow, she ran between two of the small buildings and out into the open space beyond.
Outward Borne Page 7