THE LOST COLONY

by D M Arnold

  “His name IS Mos, Illya.” Nyk shook his head. “Why is it so hard to treat them as equals.”

  “They're not equals. They have different biology...”

  “Their biology differs only in details. I had this same argument with Captain Egan. I didn't expect to have it with you.”

  “It's a legal quagmire you've put us in. We have a cadre of solicitors scouring Floran Law for some guidance on this, Nyk.”

  “Floran Law never considered such a situation. What of the others?”

  “The ... unconscious ones are in the clinic, being given fluids.”

  “Don't give the ones without tattooed numbers too much glucose. We won't even be able to communicate with most of them.”

  “The medics have been forewarned.”

  “What of Laida? May I see her?”

  Kronta nodded. “Come this way.”

  Nyk followed Illya to a detention cell. He saw Laida sitting on a bunk. Her eyes caught his and she stood. Nyk threw his arms around her, held her and caressed the back of her head. “How are you doing?”

  “They're treating me kindly,” she replied. “I have never been this long without sun.”

  “Are they giving you syrup?”

  She nodded. “Yes -- it's sustaining me. The others are all right, too. I wish they'd let me see Mos. He doesn't understand.”

  “We're doing what we can.” Nyk took Laida's hand and squeezed it.

  “Nyk -- don't let them return me to Varada. I'm dead there.”

  “You'll die here. This place can't sustain you.”

  “I'd rather starve here than be put down there. Don't let them return me to Varada. Please.”

  “Come on, Nyk,” Kronta said.

  Laida brushed a tear from her cheek and gave him a little wave. Nyk regarded her through the window-slit on the cell door. He watched her sit on the bunk and bury her face in her hands. He turned to Kronta. “All right Illya -- human or not?”

  * * *

  Nyk paced in Kronta's office. “I can't recall a bigger mess,” Illya said from behind his desk. “The Varadans have severed communications with us. They are accusing US of stealing THEIR novonids. US! Stealing from THEM!”

  “THEY brought the novonids to the 501 in Varadan shuttles,” Nyk replied. “Their primitive, alcohol-fueled, so-called spaceships dripped corrosives all over our shuttlebay.”

  “We believe these statements are more directed toward domestic Varadan consumers,” Kronta replied.

  “What can we do?”

  “The 501 has been impounded and our forensics teams are going over it looking for evidence. We've taken statements from the crew.”

  “Why don't we interrogate them?”

  “This bunch knows how to deal with truth drug. It doesn't necessarily uncover the truth -- rather, what the subject BELIEVES to be truthful.”

  “What about interviewing the novonids?” Nyk asked.

  “We have no interpreters. Except for yourself, none of our staff can speak their language. They can read and write it, but not speak it. With the exception of the one called Laida...”

  “You mean Laida, Illya -- not 'the one called Laida.' It IS her name.”

  “With the exception of Laida, none of the novonids can read or write.”

  “Let me be interpreter, then.”

  “Rejected. You're not an impartial party.”

  “Then, let Andra.”

  “Rejected for the same reason.”

  “Illya -- one reason I was asked to participate was to build a neural map for subliminal language training.”

  “I had almost forgotten. Shit, I had forgotten.”

  “Let them map my head, Illya. Let then create a Varadan language program and train ... whoever's impartial enough.”

  “I'll want to watch,” Kronta said. “I've never seen neural mapping done.”

  * * *

  Illya accompanied Nyk into a treatment room. “You can change into treatment garb,” the attendant told him.

  He looked around the room. “This looks like an interrogation setup. Is that truth drug?”

  “We use truth drug as part of the procedure. Please get changed.”

  Nyk returned wearing a broad loincloth. He climbed onto a therapeutic pallet. The attendant inserted an I.V. catheter into a vein in his arm.

  A medic and a technician stepped into the room. “Mr Kyhana -- let me explain the procedure.”

  “I understand you use truth drug,” Nyk replied.

  “A light dose -- to get your mind focused on the subject at hand.” He pulled a vidisplay before him. “We will be presenting writings in Varadan. Actually, it's the letter of intent you helped draft... Ideally, someone should be conversing in Varadan to you, but we have no native Varadan speakers in the building.”

  “Yes we do. We have Laida. She's being held in detention.”

  “One of the green...”

  “Yes -- one of them. She's smarter than I am. Bring her here.” The medic glanced toward Kronta.

  “He has a point,” Kronta said and pulled his handheld from his sash.

  Shortly Laida was escorted into the treatment room. Her eyes darted between Nyk, the medics and technicians and the equipment. “Don't be afraid, Laida,” Nyk said to her. “No one's going to harm you. We need your help. These men are going to use my knowledge of your language to create a pattern they can use to train others. I need you to talk to me -- that's all. Will you do that?”

  She nodded. “Yes...”

  “Good... have a seat.”

  “Tell her,” the technician said, “once you're under the drug, she must ask you questions, and then more questions based on your answers. She must engage you in conversation even if the topic is rambling and makes no sense.” Nyk nodded and interpreted the technician's words.

  “Okay -- let's get started.”

  Nyk took a deep breath. He felt Laida's hand on his, turned his palm over and squeezed hers. A burning sensation began to radiate up his arm and he began to feel as if he were falling. A roaring filled his ears.

  “Nykkyo...” he heard a sweet voice call his name. “Nykkyo -- it's Laida.”

  “Laida,” he heard his own voice answer. “Laida my friend...”

  The conversation between Laida and his own voice grew distant as the effect of the drug deepened, and became a faint echo...

  Nyk opened his eyes, unsure of his surroundings. The room was spinning. He rolled his head to the left and looked into a pair of orange eyes in a green face. To the right a pair of pale blue ones. “Laida... Andra...”

  “You're all right, Nykkyo,” Laida said.

  “You did well,” Andra added. “They said they have a good pattern. They'll start training interpreters this afternoon.

  “Good. Then, they can get the novonids' side of the story.”

  Andra showed Nyk her left wrist. On it was a detention transponder. “I have one of these, too.”

  * * *

  “How much longer, Illya?” Nyk paced Kronta's office.

  “We're making progress. Laida and the others have been interviewed, and their testimony matches yours. We've reestablished contact with Varada -- the old way, relaying written communiques through an ExoScout.”

  “What about that comm relay we left in orbit?” Nyk asked.

  “The Varadans don't seem to know how to make it work. We are near reaching an agreement to repatriate all but Mos and Laida.”

  “What of Mos and Laida?”

  “We have agreed to table that discussion -- until after our legal system has disposed of their cases. This, at least, defuses the claim Floran absconded with Varadan property.”

  “Property ... property, indeed... They'll probably be killed, Illya -- the feral ones for sure.”

  “It's a Varadan internal issue -- it's not our affair.”

  “Tomyka Wells, Captain Hayt and others yet unknown made it our affair. And, what's Laida's and Mos's legal status here?”

  “Mos killed the captain. He must answ
er homicide charges. Laida...”

  “Laida didn't do ANYTHING, Illya.”

  “She is being held as a material witness.”

  “Illya, we can't keep them here, in confinement. In the days we've been on Floran -- you can see it in Laida. Her color is fading. She's slowly starving to death. We can't sustain them on sugar water forever.”

  “I know.”

  “Release them.”

  “We can't release an accused murderer.”

  “Then, release Laida, at least. Let her have some sunshine. She's not going anywhere. She has nowhere to go. She won't bolt.”

  Kronta drummed his fingers on his desk. “All right. I'll release her into your custody. Remember -- it'll be on your head...”

  “How could I forget?”

  He picked up his vidisplay and poked the screen. “Come on -- we'll get her some sunshine.”

  They approached Laida's cell and found it empty. “Where is she?” Nyk asked a guard.

  “We found her on the floor, vomiting and convulsing. We took her to the infirmary.”

  “Our doctors won't know what to do.”

  “Come on, Nyk.” Kronta led Nyk to the lift and requested level four. The liftcar door opened and they approached a checkpoint. The post was vacant.

  Kronta passed his hand over a proximity pad. He signaled again. And again.

  “Coming, coming...” An Internal Affairs sergeant holding a meal package approached the desk.

  “Do you have a green girl here?” Kronta asked.

  “What?”

  “Did you receive a subject from ExoService detention?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  “I want to know.”

  “And, who are you?”

  “Check my profile.”

  The sergeant scooped a spoonful of his dinner. He presented a scanpad. Kronta scanned his wrist.

  The sergeant scooped more of his dinner and began reviewing Kronta's profile. “Okay, let's see here... Do you know the subject's name?”

  “Laida,” Nyk replied.

  “Laida who?”

  “Just Laida.”

  “A Floran?”

  “No -- an offworlder.”

  “Sergeant,” Nyk said, “can't we just look in the treatment rooms?”

  He squinted at Kronta, then nodded toward the corridor. “Go on.”

  “I really wish we could coordinate better with Internal Affairs,” Kronta said as they headed down the corridor peeking into rooms.

  “Illya -- here!”

  Nyk opened the door. Laida lay on a therapeutic pallet. Her skin had faded to a sickly yellow-green. Her head was raised and her breathing appeared labored. A medical intern was attempting to scan her. He shook his head. “Her anatomy is ... flipped ... backward!”

  “Yes,” Nyk said.

  “Her spleen is more than double the usual size. I don't know if that's normal or not.”

  “What are you doing for her?”

  “I don't know what to do -- I don't know what's wrong -- I don't know where to start. We've drawn blood -- if that brown stuff in her veins is blood. Our panels are coming back all confused. It has red, white and green corpuscles!”

  “Give her glucose,” Nyk said. “Glucose syrup and water. Get a feeding tube into her or something.”

  * * *

  An attendant attached a large syringe to the feeding tube threaded into Laida's left nostril and pressed the plunger. “I don't know why we keep doing this,” the attendant said. “She'll just vomit it up again.”

  “She must be absorbing some of it. I'll watch her.”

  “Keep her on her side and her face pointed down.”

  Nyk sat beside her and ran his fingers along her temple. Her eyes cracked open and she began making retching sounds. He grabbed a basin and held it under her face as she vomited a clear, frothy fluid.

  The attendant returned with a pouch of clear fluid. “Doctor wants to start an intravenous glucose infusion.” She hung the pouch, pushed a stool near the pallet and began examining Laida's left arm. “Let's see if we can find a good vein... This will do.” She pulled the guard off a lance.

  Laida shrieked and jerked her arm away. Tears filled her eyes. “NO! NO! NO!” she blubbered.

  “You must cooperate,” the attendant said. She addressed Nyk. “Please tell her to cooperate.”

  “You must understand,” Nyk replied, “that on her world, they execute her kind with lethal injections. She must fear you're about to put her out of her misery.”

  The attendant stepped back, her hand to her lips. “Oh, no, sweetie,” she said. “We won't hurt you.”

  Nyk crouched. “Laida... They want to give you medicine in your arm. Do you understand?” He held her hand and stroked the back of it. “I won't let them hurt you. Do you trust me?” Her lip trembled and a tear ran down her face.

  “I don't think she's fully coherent,” he said to the attendant. He caressed her face. “Laida -- it's Nykkyo.”

  “Nykkyo...”

  “Your friend, remember?” She smiled and nodded. “The doctors want to give you medicine in your arm. They want to help you, not hurt you. I won't let them harm you. I'll hold your hand.” He looked toward the attendant. “She's left-handed.”

  “I'll use her right arm.”

  Laida bit her lip and whimpered. Nyk held her hand as the attendant pierced her skin and connected the line leading from the pouch. “Done.”

  Nyk caressed Laida's head and cheeks. “You're all right -- rest now.”

  “That struggle must've taken most of her strength.”

  “Probably... I'll sit with her until she calms.”

  * * *

  Andra stepped into the room. “Any change?”

  “Only for the worse. She can't keep the glucose syrup down, so they've switched to intravenous.” Laida lay on her back, her eyes closed and her breathing labored. “We're not giving her what she needs. She needs sunlight.”

  “What she needs is that pink paste,” Andra replied.

  Nyk looked up. “Of course! The protein and minerals -- what has it been? Fifteen days without it?”

  “Maybe twenty.”

  “Come on!” Nyk grabbed Andra's hand and led her to the lift and out onto the plaza at Government Center. He ran down a moving staircase and along the street to the hostel, scanned his wrist and rode a liftcar.

  “Open up!” He pounded on the door to a room. It slid open. “Zane! We need your help!”

  “Nykkyo... Fancy meeting YOU here. Do you know I'm in double trouble? That's right -- for being a member of the crew that smuggled those green people, AND for helping you in the mutiny.”

  “Did you know about the novonids?”

  He shook his head. “No. As far as I can tell it was the captain, first officer and two yeomen. They had deck four locked out during those shuttle landings -- to protect the rest of the ship in the event of an accident, they said.”

  “The truth to this will come out. When it does, we'll all be exonerated. I wouldn't be surprised if you get a commendation.”

  “I don't know about that. The ExoService doesn't hand out medals to mutineers. I don't know of a precedent for what happened.” Zane eyed him “I'm sure this isn't a social call...”

  “Zane, Laida is dying. Her testimony will be crucial in resolving this for all of us. You need to help us.”

  “How can I help?”

  “That comm relay we dropped off near Varada -- how operational is it?”

  “There's still work to be done on the ground. We installed one uplink at Ogan's office. It'll work when that hemisphere faces the relay.”

  “The Varadans can't make it work.”

  “That doesn't surprise me. Assuming the fusion reactors are still on line, it should function.”

  “Can I use it make a call to Ogan?”

  Zane looked skyward. “An inbound call would have to be connected manually.”

  “What does that entail?”

  “I'd need access to a
vidisplay to bring up the control channel. Then, another vidisplay could connect a call.”

  “Let's do it, then.”

  “Use my handheld,” Andra said. She pulled it from her sash and handed it to him.

  Zane poked the screen. “This could be somewhat complicated... That relay isn't registered in the comm net directory...”

  “Not registered?” Nyk asked.

  Zane's gaze flicked up to Nyk. “The Comm Corps doesn't know about this particular node.”

  “Are you telling me that comm relay is a bootleg?”

  “Not exactly... It's only accessible through dedicated ExoService portals.”

  “Where would those dedicated portals lead, Zane? To Gamma-5?”

  Zane shrugged. “Perhaps... I've got the relay's control channel ... I think it's the right relay...” He poked the screen again. “Okay -- I have a control panel.”

  “To think someone could use a handheld to access a control panel on one of our relays,” Andra remarked. “Isn't that poor security?”

  “That someone would have to know about a half-dozen passwords... And, he'd need to know what he's doing... I'm in and accessing the uplink on the surface... No response.”

  “Was the relay parked over their sun's north pole?”

  “South pole. The capital is south of the equator.”

  “I don't know what time it is there. If it's night, the uplink could be pointing into empty space. Keep trying, Zane.”

  Nyk paced around Zane's hostel room. Floran's sun set in the west and the city's lights came on. Zane poked the handheld. “I have the uplink!”

  “Now what?”

  “Let me acquire a local comm trunk... Okay, make your call. I'll transmit the port numbers.”

  Nyk manipulated his handheld. “Can I use this as a locator code?”

  “Yes -- it should connect.”

  He entered the code and a blue screen appeared. “Voice-only?”

  “We don't have the video format converters in place.”

  The call connected. “Prefect Ogan's office,” a female voice answered.