Alien Caller

by Greg Curtis

  Cautiously he tried moving sideways, hoping maybe to get behind it and creep away then, and oddly it seemed to work. The spider had no problem with him moving sideways. In time he worked out that the machine also had no problem with him being beside it or even behind it. As long as he was no more than twelve feet or so away. If he increased his distance from it any more than that, it turned around to face him and then closed the distance between them to its set eight feet.

  After maybe a quarter of an hour of testing it out he at least had come to the conclusion it wasn’t going to attack him, though being a giant metal spider, he wasn’t about to trust it any time soon. He couldn’t get away from it, but he also sensed he wasn’t in any immediate danger. His panic finally beginning to subside, he took the time to start studying it again.

  Now that it was in the open air, and fully erect, he realized he could see the one surface he hadn’t been able to see when it hung in the shed. Its back. And its back was quite different to the rest of it.

  For a start it was smooth sculptured steel, polished as though it was meant to have hands rubbed on it. There were also some short stalks on the back of its head behind the blue lights, obviously controls, and also two smooth hollows, one in between each pair of legs. To add to his discoveries, he suddenly realized it had two pairs of plastic straps hanging between each pair of legs. And the straps had little loops on their ends. Something about them looked familiar.

  It took a moment, but in time those straps with their oddly familiar loops were enough like their earthly counterparts to tell him what they were, and perversely what the machine was. They were stirrups and it was a mechanical horse, with two saddles. It looked nothing like any horse he’d ever seen, but then why should it? Humans hadn’t built it, and the people who had presumably didn’t have horses anyway.

  A few minutes later he also realized why it kept following him, and waiting. It was waiting for him to ride it. He had activated it and now like an obedient horse, it awaited his commands. A slight, nervous giggle escaped him about then.

  When his heart rate had finally begun to return to some semblance of normality, he realized he had only one option. To get closer to it. That was the only way he was either going to be able to turn it off, or ride it.

  Holding the rake before him, though he hoped it wasn’t necessary and he suspected it would be next to useless if he needed a weapon, he approached the spider from the side. The way a rider would approach and mount a horse, he hoped. The spider moved not a single muscle, not that it had any. Instead it just let him approach, confirming his theory. And then just as he got to within a couple of feet or so, it moved again, squatting down on its legs to let him mount up, and sending his heart into overdrive again as he thought it was about to jump on him.

  But once he realized why it had done what it had, he stilled his panicked thoughts, took a few more calming breaths, and gathered up his courage once again. It took less effort than before. There were only so many heart attacks a man could have in a day before he just gave up panicking.

  Quickly he swung one leg over the front saddle, and immediately the machine rose to its full height with him on board. That at least, he had expected though perhaps not so quickly, and he found himself quickly trying to adjust his position so as not to have his privates squeezed so tightly by the steel saddle. But soon he was suspended off the ground exactly as a rider should be.

  Once he was in the saddle he started to realize that while the people who had built this thing might have had two legs like a human, that was where the resemblance ended. They were obviously far broader across the hips than men, with the saddle being at least a foot wide, which was relatively uncomfortable for him. They also had no male anatomy from the way the front of the saddle rose sharply at the front. Then there was the shortness of the control columns, suggesting they either had longer arms or shorter backs than a man. All in all it was a distinctly uncomfortable riding position, but no doubt still easier than walking.

  If he could figure out how to drive it.

  In front of him were three small stalks with knobs on the ends, and what could only be some sort of computer screen. Arrows around the stalks which looked strangely like those found painted on any earthly motorway, told him which way they moved, and also suggested what they did. Two moved forwards and backwards, the inside pair being far longer than the pair of arrows on the left, which strongly suggested to him that they moved the machine forwards and back, and surely faster and slower. The third on the right hand side, moved left and right and were undoubtedly for steering. As controls went, they didn’t seem particularly complex.

  Experimentally he pushed one, and got told off. At least that was the only way he could describe the sounds the machine made. He couldn’t understand a single word, but was certain he had done something wrong from the strident tones. Besides the machine hadn’t moved. Some sort of text appeared on the screen as well; alien hieroglyphics that he didn't understand, and he guessed that the spider was also programmed for deaf people.

  He tried pushing the other knobs and got exactly the same reaction; no movement but a thorough telling off. Moving combinations of all the knobs didn’t help either. The machine would not budge, it just continued to berate him.

  After a while it became frustrating and he started muttering angrily at it, while still knowing it was his fault. The machine could move. It did move by itself, but it wouldn’t operate for him which, since it accepted him as a driver, it was surely meant to. Something was wrong.

  It had, he realized, to be something pretty basic. In fact it reminded him of some of the Japanese cars he’d driven, which wouldn’t let you drive unless you had your seatbelt on. It was a memory that eventually gave him the correct answer. Carefully he put his feet into the stirrups and was immediately rewarded with the sound of machine parts whirring away enthusiastically beneath him.

  A few seconds later and he found himself moving forwards and then sideways, and he realized none of the knobs were in neutral any longer. Quickly he moved the sideways moving knob to its centre, and the machine straightened up. Pushing the front knob forwards made it move faster, and like any speed freak, he slowly pushed it all the way forward until soon he was doing perhaps twenty miles an hour towards the camp. However, the machine itself had its own ideas about safe speeds, and kept slowing down, accompanied by more bad language each time he pushed the throttle to the end, and then when he didn’t pull back on the throttle it pushed his hand back as it returned to half speed. Three quarter speed turned out to be much more acceptable, and the knob stayed where he left it.

  He took some time to play with the controls, testing out the capabilities of the spider, and found it to be more agile than anything he’d ever driven. And clearly it had been designed with safety in mind. Pushing the steering lever caused it to turn, but it did so very slowly as it refused to allow him to slip. The same was true of the throttle as it accelerated and braked unbelievably gently. Yet despite its gentleness he had no doubt it had plenty of power. He had seen it jump two yards straight up, and sprint at him faster than any horse could. It just refused to do that with a rider on board.

  The ride was also incredibly smooth, as the spider seemed to literally ripple underneath him. Its legs were a blur of motion, but there was no bumpiness at all. Just a pleasant rhythmic sway from one side to the other. It had obviously been designed for safety as much as efficiency. Though clearly it was also a highly efficient vehicle. A car might travel faster, but not over hills and valleys, and he'd seen no sign of a road in the surrounding lands. Perhaps that wasn’t because of the effects of time but rather because they’d never had the need to build them.

  When he finally hit the hill leading to their camp having travelled the long way around as he played with the spider, he learned that was there almost no chance of falling off. The machine automatically compensated for the slope, so that even as it ascended he sat absolutely level in his saddle. Another safety feature. If only car makers were
so thoughtful.

  In less than five minutes he found himself at the crest of the hill where the energy barrier lay, and quickly slowed down to a crawl. It wasn’t just the question that ran through his mind of whether the gate would allow the machine through, it was Cyrea who stood there on the other side, having waited patiently for him to return, and who now wore a look of disbelief on her face. Disbelief, shock and another expression he didn’t want to identify. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t a good look.

  “I can explain –.” But he knew he couldn’t. Somehow his faithful promise that he would not enter the building until at least one other technologically inclined member of the party had examined it, had slipped completely from his mind. Until just then.

  “I’m sure you can.” By which she meant the exact opposite, and he groaned as he knew he was going to spend another night in the doghouse. Which he reminded himself, he no doubt deserved. Having discovered advanced and potentially invaluable technology was not going to save him from her righteous fury.

  “You’re right, I can’t. I’m sorry Love, the door just opened when I touched it and I went in.” He thought it at least politic to try and apologize early, though he was still skating around the truth. The door just opened? She'd never believe that. He hurried on with his excuse.

  “Everything inside seemed dead, except for the lights, and I thought I was safe. But then this thing woke up and started chasing me out, and I had a terrible time trying to figure out what it was. I thought it was going to attack me, and I nearly had a heart attack as it kept chasing me. And then once I did work out what it was, I couldn’t work out how to send it back with the others.”

  “There’s more?” Finally something seemed to have taken her mind off his failings, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Loads more. At least another half dozen of these things hanging on the walls, and a lot more strange gadgets too. But this one’s the only one that woke up. And then there are racks of other equipment too, a lot of them with legs as well, but I didn’t touch any of it. Not when this thing came to life and I had to run like crazy.” It drew a small smile as she imagined the sight of him running away from a mechanical horse, exactly as he’d hoped for even as he babbled.

  “Perhaps next time you’ll listen to me then. Dare I even suggest it, you might even accept that I know what I’m talking about.” He nodded quickly, partly to try and buy himself some peace in the home, and partly because she was right. It had perhaps been foolish to enter an alien building without some technologically advanced help.

  “You do indeed and I’ve learned my lesson.” But his fingers were figuratively crossed behind his back, and she no doubt knew it. He couldn’t fool her that easily. But he could distract her. Maybe.

  “But could you at least tell me what it is? I mean I know it’s a riding machine, but there’s no way in hell a Mentan could ride it. It’s too tall and he’d be falling off all over the place. It’s no better for one of your people or mine. In fact it’s damned uncomfortable.”

  She approached him and the machine slowly, studying it. As she started circling it, the machine obediently squatted down again, expecting another rider, and David took the opportunity to get off and try and restore some circulation to his aching legs. Even as he began hobbling around and trying not to moan too loudly as he played for her sympathy vote, he got slapped across the cheek by Cyrea, who knew what he was doing and why. She knew him too well.

  “Don’t think you’re getting off that easily Love. Or that I believe a single word of your sorry excuse for an explanation.” But her eyes quickly returned to the machine and he knew he was safe from her fury for a little while. Long enough perhaps to gather some flowers, perhaps give her another quick foot rub and apologise a few hundred more times.

  “It's Floyd in design I think, though very old. But they have been trading with the Mentans for tens of thousands of years, and theirs is the only body I could see sitting on this with any degree of comfort. And that means that this is an ancient Floyd planet. Perhaps a colony, or more likely a trading post long since abandoned.” She ran her hands over the body of the spider, and let her eyes linger on its screen.

  “That in turn means the building you’ve discovered is an abandoned depot of some sort. Filled with the stuff they no longer needed when they left the world. The Floyd’s obsession with neatness means they would never leave anything just lying around. So they probably left the riders in storage when they no longer needed them, no doubt when they’d perfected their flying belts. But that was long after they had space flight, since this is most definitely not the Floyd home world.”

  “And the other things?”

  “No doubt in the same category. After all, anything useful they would have taken with them. But they still would have had some fairly advanced tools and maybe even a communicator or two left behind, and perhaps even some stock they couldn’t trade. Things we can most definitely use.” He could practically see the wheels turning in her eyes as she came to her decision.

  “Tomorrow morning you, me and one of the technicians are going back there to identify and recover anything and everything we can.” She saw the look in his eyes, and quickly headed him off.

  “Don’t even think about it Love. I may be pregnant, but I am a security officer which means I know a lot more than anyone else about the things we need to find and those we need to look out for. More than you. And with the spider, I can get down there relatively quickly and easily, and make a short run to safety as well if we need to, pregnant or not. Meanwhile you, as our resident adrenaline junkie and explorer, can warn us of the dangers we’ll face out there, while a technician can identify the rest of the stuff and maybe even get more of it to work.”

  “Besides, if nothing else it’ll give you some idea of the worry you keep putting me through day after day.”

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Work done for the day, David went to join Cyrea and the technicians at the building site just outside the barrier. They'd decided on it as the place where they could build their transmitter simply because it was far enough away from the depot and sheltered by the lee of the hill, so that there was no way that the Mentan could be watching them. But it was also a good hike up the hill and he was a tiny bit winded as he reached the top and wrapped his arms around her. Perhaps he wasn't quite as fit as he thought.

  “So how are we going?” It was frustrating for David being unable to help. But he was no technician, not even when it came to Earth technology. He could change the oil in the truck and that was about all. But this thing had no oil and it wasn't a truck. He wasn't even sure that it was an interstellar transmitter. It looked like a pile of alien electronics that had been rescued from the junk yard and connected up with wires and bits of sticky tape. Half a dozen piles actually.

  “Good I think.” Cyrea gave him a peck on the cheek. She was smiling, and that he guessed meant that she had some hope. And at least she was useful. She might not be a trained technician either but she was a security officer and she knew codes and frequencies. She knew how to make contact with another world or ship without tipping off their kidnapper. And they both knew that there was another ship from Earth on its way, essentially taking the same path they had through space and likely about to run into a Mentan pirate.

  He'd told them it was a month behind. And by David's best reckoning they had been on this world for nearly a month, which meant that they were pushing the limits. Every day that passed from now on, every hour, the chances grew that the ship following them was already under attack.

  “Any idea?”

  “Soon.” She was getting good at reading his thoughts. But then everyone else, and there were presently quite a few others joining them around the pile of equipment the technicians claimed was a transmitter, would have understood. They all had the same thought on their mind.

  Without saying any more as it would have been pointless, David settled for standing quietly beside Cyrea, his arm around her growing waistline, and watc
hing the others work. The silence was peaceful, and with the sun beating down on them it was enough. In time they gave up on standing, and sat down on the grass. It might be alien grass, it might be a funny colour and smell a little off, but it was still comfortable enough to sit on.