Outward Borne
Page 15
I was stunned and confused by this confrontation. The idea of talking with one of the ObLaDas, even if it was just a voice speaking the Ship’s Language, was disturbing to me. I never thought such a thing would happen after all this time. In the early days, I used to lie awake at night thinking of just what I would say to them, tell them off, make then bring us back home, but when it happened, I was such an idiot. I acted as if it was some privilege to speak to such a one. I agreed to help, I do not know why. I never intended to help any of those heartless kidnappers.
The ObLaDas had long ago developed a language for use on the Outward Voyager, the Ship’s Language. The ObLaDas and all alien species had their version of the Language that suited their natural communication abilities. No matter how the word was expressed in one alien’s version, it could be directly related to a word or gesture having the same meaning in any other language. The Ship’s language allowed ideas and meaning to be transmitted accurately with the computer or between species so that conversations could be held almost in real time. Our version of the Language used both volume and pitch, HI, Me, lo, in order to communicate the greatest content in the fewest number of syllables. It was very melodic. When someone spoke, it was as if they were playing a musical instrument or singing. We had come to speak Ship’s Language exclusively; our home tongue was rapidly being forgotten.
Two days after I spoke with RaLac5, I received a message saying that arrangements were complete. I was to go to the same room. I would be able to see and speak to an alien being. Something called a Nivinwa.
There was a bright screen on the wall. I could see a small dim room with walls that appeared to be streaked with dirt. After a short while, the creature came in. I had been warned not to react to its appearance, no matter how strange or repulsive I might find it. The thing was strange to be sure, but amazing as well. It had a long sinuous body with eight legs and a small head, two prominent eyes and a beak-like mouth, no apparent nose or ears, no hair. It was purple and red with skin like wet mud, clay, but its movements were incredibly fluid and graceful as it looked about the room. After a short time it seemed to lose interest and lay down in a corner. It stayed there without moving. I thought it might have fallen asleep.
“Greetings,” I said somewhat louder than I intended. I found myself wanting to make contact with this being. “I am Gwynyth, a woman from the planet Earth. The ObLaDas have asked me to speak with you.” I could see the creature on the wall screen, but it did not seem to hear me, perhaps it was asleep, or maybe the system was not working. “I am a captive on this ship as you are. It would give me great pleasure if you would speak with me.”
It looked toward the far wall; I could see its mouth move but did not hear its voice until a moment later. “Why should I talk? You are one of them and I will not speak to any of you.” It, she I suppose, looked so tired and sad; she seemed to droop with a heavy weight of troubles.
“No, you are mistaken, I am not one of those (here follows an untranslatable expression in colloquial Saxon) and I do not speak for them either. My people were taken captive thirty-five years ago and have been confined on this ship since that time.”
“Thirty-five years! That is as nothing. We have been here thirty-five generations or longer, so long that we have no memory of where we have come from.”
As long as that, I was shocked. “We would have little hope of ever returning home if species were kept for such a long time.”
“Return, hoawh, no returns, only disposal, that may happen if they lose interest, never returns, too much trouble, expensive, not worth it.”
This shocked me. In spite of everything, I had kept hope of returning to Earth at some point. Instead of helping that creature, I was likely to become as depressed as it was.
“Why are you talking to me? Am I some freak to amuse you?”
“No, I mean you look different, but I would look even stranger to you, I am sure. An ObLaDa asked me, his name was RaLak5, at least he said that it was, and he said that he was the new Captain, and that all the Das now wanted to provide a better life for the aliens that are on the ship. He claimed that they did not know what to do to help you. It may not be true, but we should at least try to take some advantage of their talk.”
“You are just a voice to me. I want to see you, if you are real.”
“Well then, I will ask that a screen be set up for you. Then we can talk some more.” My sprits were very low after the meeting with the Nivinwa. It just lay there on the floor, seeming to have so little interest in talking to me, or anything. Meeting an alien species should be so exciting, but it seemed not to care. I wanted to continue, however, and asked for a two-way picture to be set up.
The picture system was installed overnight. I suspect the Das were expert at setting up spying equipment. I was quite nervous, my appearance was as good as I could make it, with a clean new dress Gunhild had made for me, my hair was well brushed and I tried to smile. When all was ready, I sat in the chair and signaled for the picture.
The Nivinwa was lying in the same corner looking toward me. For some considerable time neither of us moved or said anything, still nervous, I stood and started pacing across the room, when she asked. “Is that your skin all flapping around like that?”
“No this is my dress, it is just a covering that my friend made for me.” Before I could explain any further, she told me to take it off so she could see how I was made. Of course, I was reluctant to take off my clothes, but it was hardly a time to be shy. With the dress folded on the table, I walked about. The Nivinwa stood up to look more closely. “Now why do not you fall over, how can you stand upright with only two legs?”
“Oh, standing on two legs is easy enough, balancing on one is something I can’t quite do.”
“Never have I seen such a marvel, you are all jerky, but still it is extraordinary to be so tall and upright.”
“Jerky! I am not so awkward as that. I suspect I could still do a decent dance,” and did so. Our dances consisted mostly of leg bending and fast stomping may have looked even more inelegant than my posing for the Nivinwa. I am afraid that she was not impressed.
“Hoawh, what is that on you head, take that off as well.”
“This is my hair, it belongs there, does not come off at all. Let me show you.” I removed my clasp to let my hair fall free.
“What is it for,” the Nivinwa asked.
I laughed, not knowing what say to that question, though it was clear that she found hair as strange as having only two legs. “We have hair only on our heads, well almost only, but many animals on our planet have fur all over their bodies. Do you have any pets? It keeps them warm in winters. We have dogs. My Lowulf is a most hairy beast.” There followed an extended discussion of pets, fur, winter, the whole concept of cold, which was hard to explain to a being that had spent its life in temperature-controlled rooms, and ended with a request to see Lowulf.
“Wait a moment. I suspect he is lying just outside the door protecting the entryway. He thinks it is his job, you know.” Lowulf was as sure in his habits as any nine-year-old dog would have them. I called him and he came in with a bound and landed with his paws on my shoulder and a kiss on my face. “See, he is almost as big as I am.” I could not help but think on my old Loboc, his great granddad, he was even bigger. “Up,” I said, and Lowulf sprang onto the table, almost knocking it over. I rubbed my hands through his shaggy coat to show how soft he was. It made me sad, though, my first Loboc, my childhood friend, he was never soft or even clean. His fur was rough, matted and crusted with dirt. He fought off marauding dogs and kept wolves away, that was a tougher place and he was tougher than anything.
“Hup, he looks better than you even with all that fuzz; at least he will not topple over at any moment. Why does he not say something?”
“I agree, he is most handsome, but, no, dogs cannot talk, only bark. “Wolff, wolf, Lowulf,” I called.”
“I cannot hear that, have them allow us to hear each other as we are.”
The Nivinwa looked as if it was convulsing. It was laughing I suppose. It was delighted by Lowulf’s noise. Those two hurt my ears with all their squalling.
It was Lowulf that made the Nivinwa accept me as a real person rather than an ObLaDa construct. No one could have planned Lowulf’s howling with the Nivinwa, or his joy at the attention he received. I put Lowulf outside and we talked some more about my life in the villages and the sea. She seemed most interested in our life before the Outward Voyager.
Lowulf and I returned to my rooms, the experience made me quite tired, exhausted really, but I could not rest. At first I did not realize what had happened, perhaps because it was not anything we said, but later, lying on my bed thinking, I realized that the Nivinwa had shown an interest in me, or at least Lowulf, she had stirred herself, become more attentive. I was very hopeful.
The following day RaLak5 contacted me again. He asked if I had learned anything helpful. “Not much,” I said, “we are just becoming acquainted.” He did not seem to understand, never having met anyone he had not known all his life, but I did not offer to explain.
“Do you have records of the Nivinwa, records of their home planet or capture?”
“Yes, I am sure we must. We keep records of everything, although they have been here for a long time, I think.”
“Have the Nivinwa ever seen them, or have a copy of them?”
“No copy, certainly, and no access recently, or even in the past, I would suspect. Why do you ask?”
“Could I see them? It may be helpful.”
“I could have them retrieved, if you think it would be of value, but there are surely going to be a large number of files, pretty dull work most likely.”
RaLak5 followed through with his promise and the next day I had a screen filled with records of the Nivinwa capture. He was right about the volume of material. There were many days worth of images to go through. The same events were captured from different locations; many showed a fixed scene without the slightest activity. Even so, there were some good images, pictures of the Nivinwa and their surroundings, and I spent the better part of the week sorting through the material.
Eventually, Childeric came knocking at my door. I had been noticeably absent, he said. It may not have been allowed, but I told him what I was doing. He was quite interested, of course, amazed that there were aliens on the ship. Even when I told him we would not be allowed to interact with the Nivinwa, he still wanted to help, and we got started clipping together images of their habitat and any action pictures of them in their homes or being captured.
The images were not very clear most of the time, but it seemed that they lived in large open structures with walls covered with colors and images. Banners hung from the curved ceilings. They had many other things, stacks of thin sheets like folded cloth, very long. We did not know what these were. They ate things alive, long thin things, like snakes with stumpy legs. Even after they bit through it, the thing wriggled around. They seemed to like it better if it was still moving. It almost made me sick to see them go at it. More favorably, they also seemed to have musical instruments and to sing, though it sounded like yowls to us. It was all so different from the dirty, stained room that I saw. Their planet seemed to have pink skies and predominantly dark red plants that grew in profusion.
After collecting maybe twelve hours worth of material and looking at it all together, I began to have some doubts. Should I show this to them? Would it cause anger, frustration? Childeric thought that they should like to see their history, it would at least stir them up, even if it did no more than make them angry. I was not so sure. It would be frustrating perhaps, if they saw this and could do nothing about it, but Childeric was thinking ahead.
“If we had paints prepared and some musical instruments, something like those in the images, it might create an interest and they could do something to follow on.”
It was just the thing, and I was very grateful to Childeric for being so thoughtful. I did not know if it would have any effect on the Nivinwa, get them interested or even involved enough to use the paints or explore the instruments, but what was there but to try?
Of course, we had the convince RaLak5 and obtain his help. The Das needed to make the paints and the materials for the instruments. I was not sure that he could be convinced, as the ObLaDas had no color vision and not the least interest in music. He may see no value in any of these things, but I put the proposal to him. I was never convinced that he had the slightest hope that they would work, but he did offer to help and put us in contact with NorHan Si, who was a true character, much to my surprise. I did not expect any such ObLaDa could exist in the sealed world that they had created.
NorHan Si, who was related in some way to the cloned NorHan NorBa, was in charge of materials on the Outward. After waiting a short time, her voice came on in a rush. “So sorry for being late, I cannot believe that I could be any help with the poor Nivinwa, it is so sad isn’t it, so pleased to be here, simple old me, all these clever sorts, read all the reports about you, well, now here I am.”
I was taken aback by her energy, so different from the composed manner of RaLak5, but I explained our ideas and asked if she could make paint and materials, like brushes.
“Let me look, oh yes, we have many paints, very protective, there is a large record of paints, but colors, no. I understand wavelengths, different energy absorption of emitted wavelengths, but it is all gray to me of course.”
“The key, I think are pigments, if you could make different colored pigments, having different but narrow wavelength absorption spectra, they could be mixed with wax, or other carriers, to make some type of paint. The Nivinwa can do the rest,” I added hopefully. “And Childeric would try to make some instruments, something that looked like the ones in the images. He would need some materials, if we could ask these of you as well.” NorHan Si willingly agreed and promised to have some pigments and other supplies within five days.
I could not decide if it would be helpful to show the pictures to my Nivinwa, so I decided to put the question to her. She could decide for herself, one way, or another. When we met on the following day, the Nivinwa asked where I had been for we last met more than a week ago. I explained at some length that the Das had kept records of their visit to Nivinwa and of the surveillance and capture of her long ago ancestors. There were images of her home planet, some people, homes, but it was not very complete. I offered to give to her what we had found. Would she wish to see it, show it to others of her kind? At first, she did not acknowledge my question and took a considerable time considering what to do, but at last agreed to look at the pictures. There were many hours of material, much of it uneventful, but Childeric had put together an hours worth of highlights. This is what I showed her on that first day. The Nivinwa watched the pictures in silence and when it was over, she left the room without comment. Whatever reaction I expected, well, I expected a reaction. I was disappointed. I could not see what had been wrong; maybe it was too much after so long a time.
The next day, we met again. She was able to talk about the images, but found it difficult to explain her emotions. She felt as if she were watching herself in another life, that she could feel the experience, but had no memory of them. We watched some of the pictures again. I explained what I thought some of the things were and what they were doing. There were many hours of such images, I told her, and maybe she could make more sense of what she had before her. She marveled at the painted walls in the few interiors that were pictured and how beautiful she thought they were, but she had no idea that her own people could have created them.
I asked her about the music that could be heard, if they had any instruments or songs. Yes, she said, long ago it was said that there were songs sung, b
ut no more. She agreed that it looked as if her people had instruments and were singing. It sounded not the least bit musical to me. She too had no idea what the rolls of cloth were for, and noted several other things that were being carried about or used that were not familiar.
The Nivinwa wanted to show the pictures to her people. Only forty-two were left, she said. She was very aware that their numbers were dwindling. We agreed to that, RaLak5 willing, of course. I decided not to tell her about the paints, however. It would be very sad to watch, I expect, even though there was rather little about the capture itself. In the end, before leaving, she turned and looked at me. For some time she was silent, but at last, she told me her name and she allowed me to use it, Qualli. It was difficult to say, but it made me happy to try. I had the feeling that it was a sort of honor to be given her name; perhaps we had become friends.
Qualli showed the pictures, several times as it turned out, over the next week. They generated a range of reactions, disbelief to anger, among the Nivinwa, which is a good thing I believe. When Qualli came to tell me of this, I could see that she was pleased, proud to have done something for her people. It was wonderful to see and I was excited. I proposed a whole list of projects that the Nivinwa could take up. All the many days of pictures could be made available, but should not a group be formed to study them? What of the painting, could they be understood, and the music. You could hear the music and songs, could they be copied? I told her about the paints and even painted, poorly, a picture of Lowulf. I gave him red and yellow stripes to be more like the colorful paintings the Nivinwa made.