by Thomas Stone
The loudspeaker cracked with Harry's voice.
"Uh, we've got an emergency here."
"What's the problem, Harry?
A second passed before Harry answered. "Encounter with hostile alien. I'm headed back."
Nadine spoke, "How about Doris?"
Harry's reply came slowly. "I don't think she's alive."
In the monitors, Harry floated toward the Magellan. Behind him, the lit alien shuttle bay suddenly went dark.
"Whoops," said Bonner, "there goes the welcoming light."
Fagen unstrapped himself and floated free. "Bill, you've got the bridge. I'm going to help." Fagen departed and went below to don his environment suit. Before he had the chance, Harry reached the Magellan's airlock.
The commander waited as the air recycled and pressure was equalized. Disinfectants clouded the room, washing Harry's suit free from any nasty little alien microbes. When the door opened, Harry stood in front of Fagen. All he could think to say was "There was nothing I could do."
Very calmly, Fagen asked what happened to Doris. Harry took a breath and told him.
"Are you sure she was dead?"
"Man, she was impaled. Run through. She was dead all right. You can look at the recording and see for yourself."
Harry undid his bindings and shrugged off his backpack. He had a problem with one of the straps and suddenly his tension and frustration boiled over. Pulling at a buckle, the strap finally came free and Harry threw it across the room.
Fagen calmly watched. "What's the problem, Harry?"
Harry faced the commander. "What's the matter? We've lost two people already and I don't know why. I thought I knew what this was all about, but I don't."
"What are you talking about?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
"I don't understand."
"I think you do. You knew where we were headed. You've been here before, haven't you, Fagen?"
"What are you saying?"
"Oh, come off it. Somehow you manipulated the navigations and brought us here. Blane told me about the new coordinates. I saw the star map in your compartment."
"Blane is out of his mind and since when is a star map an indictment?"
"Oh, I see," snapped Harry, "you just happened to be interested in the Carina cluster, Miaplacidus, in particular. And where did you come up with the coordinates for this system? Did you just pull 'em out of your hat? Pretty lucky guess is what I'd call it. A little too lucky, if you ask me."
"I don't deny that I've been looking at maps of the Carina system, but it was only after we got here. Now whatever Blane has told you needs to be taken lightly. Blane himself doesn't know what he's talking about. He's in pretty bad shape. You saw him, you talked to him. You think he's all there?"
It made sense. Harry began to feel uncomfortable. Perhaps he had jumped to conclusions. Fagen saw Harry's growing uneasiness.
"It's okay, Harry. A lot has happened. We're all under a great deal of stress. You've performed well, but you need some rest."
Harry said nothing. He found himself wanting to believe Fagen. It was easier. And he was so tired.
"Go get some sleep, Harry. We'll talk later. Things will seem better after you've cleared your mind."
That suited Harry just fine. All he wanted to do at the moment was to lie down. He sighed and nodded. "Maybe you're right. I'm sorry, I guess I didn't know what I was talking about."
"Forget it. We're far from home with a long way to go yet."
Harry went back to his compartment feeling a little ridiculous, but also somewhat relieved. He had confronted Fagen with his suspicions and Fagen had answered with a simple explanation. How could it be anything other than what the commander had said?
Fagen lingered in the equipment compartment after Harry left. No one saw him as he removed the diskette from Harry's discarded backpack. As he slipped the diskette into his pocket, Bonner called over the ship's intercom.
"Edward? Would you come up here, please? We have some new activity."
When Fagen floated back onto the bridge, Nadine asked about Harry.
"He's all right. A little shaken up, but all right."
"What went on over there?"
"Harry says they were attacked. Doris is dead."
"Did you get Harry's diskette? We can see what happened over there."
Fagen shook his head. "The disk was damaged, it's useless. What's the status here?"
"Status?" Bonner shook his head. "The alien ship has moved away and turned off its running lights. I suggest we back away a few thousand meters or so and watch."
"All right, let's move. Keep the recorders going."
Nadine sat at her console and shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening. I didn't sign up for this. What good is it if we find the first extra-terrestrial intelligence in human history if none of us make it back alive? I say we get out of here now while we still have the chance."
Fagen didn't have the chance to answer. Bonner sat upright at his position. "I've got an ignition flare from the surface. Pretty far away. Looks like somebody is on their way up to say hello."
"Or something," Nadine added.
Chapter 20
The sound of chattering voices roused Kathleen. She had no idea what they said, but they seemed jolly enough. Looking around, Kathleen found it hard to believe she had passed the night sleeping on a dirt floor. She was also the last to rise.
One of the old women noticed she was awake and brought her a wooden bowl full of a pasty substance. It looked and smelled like oatmeal. Kathleen was famished. Knowing it could be poisonous, she hesitated before tasting. Gingerly, she took a small spoonful. The gruel didn't taste like oatmeal. It was fruity and not bad at all. She swallowed and waited a moment before taking another bite.
For the time being, no one paid her any attention. Just as well, she needed to get her bearings, form some kind of plan. For that, she needed time to think.
Children's voices came from outside. Their shouts and squeals gave away their mood. The women talked among themselves and laughed. Somehow, the sound of laughter relieved Kathleen. If these primitives could laugh, they couldn't be all bad. Perhaps she would survive after all.
Finishing the food, she got to her feet. The woman who gave her the bowl came back and tried to converse. She said something unintelligible and fingered Kathleen's coveralls. Kathleen realized the woman was admiring the material.
The aborigines wore very little. Loincloths covered the men. Some of the women wore skirts made from the same animal skins as the loincloths but most wore nothing at all. All of them who wore the skins, male, female, old and young, had a neat hole cut in back for their tails.
The female who admired Kathleen's clothes looked middle-aged. Unlike the men, she looked directly into Kathleen's eyes when she spoke. She said something again but Kathleen didn't have the foggiest notion what the aborigine said. Kathleen shrugged.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She remembered she had a package of gum in her pocket and pulled the velcro fastener loose before reaching for it.
Suddenly, everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing and stared at her. Uh-oh, she thought. Slowly and without uttering a word, they drew around her.
Trying to appear casual, Kathleen fished in her pocket and found the gum. The woman came very close and inspected the velcro fasteners. She reached and pulled on Kathleen's pocket flap. It made a ripping sound and, to the Bedoran's amazement, the primitive woman discovered it bound the two pieces of cloth together.
She drew back and smiled. Then she turned away and chattered something to those gathered around. They broke out in laughter. Another woman spoke to Kathleen. Again, Kathleen shrugged. "I don't understand."
The woman pointed at Kathleen's chest.
"What is it you want?"
The first woman felt Kathleen's overall and held up an animal pelt.
It dawned on Kathleen that she was being offered a trade. The skin for the
coveralls.
Kathleen started shaking her head. "No, no, these are my clothes. They wouldn't fit you anyway. Here," she said showing the package of gum, "have some gum. You'll have to divide it up." She caught the eye of a pubescent female and handed her the package. "Here, that can be your job."
The young one quickly waved her tail in thank-yous and backed away, disappearing to privacy in order to inspect the strange object.
To Kathleen's dismay, the primitive woman was insistent. After five minutes of lively exchanges, Kathleen realized she wasn't going to take no for an answer. The others seemed to enjoy the bartering process immensely. Although they had no idea of what Kathleen said, they chattered and laughed at each exchange of words. In the end, Kathleen ended up with the skin, a string of shells, and little more than a modest smile.
She gave up her coveralls reluctantly. They watched as she stripped and marveled at her smooth, white, hairless skin, but most of all, they looked unbelievingly at a backside without a tail. Kathleen was embarrassed, but she wasn't a prude. She decided she would wear the loincloths and get a tan. She certainly wouldn't be the only one although she was a little afraid some of the men might be interested.
As it turned out, after everyone had a good look they backed away and went about their business. For awhile, Kathleen cowered and covered her breasts while pretending to look at the string of shells. At least the primitives had warmed up to her. Sort of. Even if she no longer had her clothes, she was now fairly certain they weren't going to torture her. Or hurt her. To the contrary, they seemed to enjoy having her around.
The woman with the coveralls was already cutting a hole in the seat. Kathleen could hear the children laughing and playing outside the cave. The males were off somewhere. It was quiet. Still, Kathleen thought, even with the chatter from the primitives, it was uncommonly quiet. She was alone. No Bart in her head. No other stimulants, no instrument hum, not even the rush of air through a grilled air duct. It felt unnatural. Suddenly, she wondered if she was more dependent on Bart than she had ever considered. No, she decided, she wasn't dependent on Bart. At the moment, all she wanted was to see a friendly face. Harry's face would be nice. Kathleen glumly watched as the primitive female stepped into the garment.
The others clapped their hands in approval as she squirmed her tail through the tailored hole in the seat. She slid the shoulders up and stuck her arms into the sleeves. They were too long, as were the legs, but it didn't matter because she was so fascinated by the velcro.
She stood and modeled, then shuffled back to Kathleen, pants legs dragging. She stood before Kathleen, smiling and chattering in her unfathomable language. Kathleen showed her how to roll up the sleeves, then the legs. They moved from the cave into the light to better inspect the fit.
Below, beside a small stream, the old man and Kretin stripped bark from sturdy boughs as they fashioned new spears. Kretin caught sight of Kathleen as she stood on the ledge.
"The creature is awake."
"Finally," Grandfather added.
"Where do you think she is from?"
"I do not know," Grandfather said frankly. "Maybe from the other side of the mountains." He looked up. "Maybe from the other side of the sky. How in the world should I know?" Grandfather was sometimes grouchy in the morning.
Arai walked out of the forest. In one hand, he held his spear. The other hand was free. His tail gripped a mid-sized sloth. When he saw Kretin and his Grandfather, he held his catch aloft and grinned. He climbed upon a rock near the two and squatted down. The boy began to skin the animal.
"Grandfather?"
The elder grunted without looking up.
"Will you let the she-thing participate in the ritual?"
Grandfather stopped sharpening the spear and looked up at Kathleen. "She doesn't seem to be very smart. I don't think she will survive."
"She is large, Grandfather, and very strong. She killed one of the night creatures. She kept it from killing me."
"Yes, yes, so you said."
"Does she not then deserve a chance to join the ritual?"
The old man exchanged a glance with Arai's older brother. "According to the law, that is true. The problem is she is too different. She is not one of us."
"Is not that what the ritual is for, Grandfather? To see if she deserves to be with the tribe?"
He sighed. "Yes, I suppose so."
Kretin spoke up. "It is not my place to say, but I think she would not survive the ritual anyway. Her woods skills are poor."
"You are young, Kretin, but you are still the second eldest male. Someday you will be the one to make these decisions. She was able to kill one of the night creatures. That is no small feat. It tells me she at least deserves the chance." Grandfather turned to Arai.
"She will be allowed to participate, my boy. Let the spirits of the forest decide her fate. That is our way."
Arai grinned and twitched his tail. "Thank you, Grandfather." The boy rose and clambered up the rocks toward Kathleen. The old man turned to Kretin. "I think the boy is fond of his new pet."
Kretin laughed and continued with his work.
Arai climbed up to the ledge and hailed his mother. "Mother," he said, "you look wonderful in your new covering."
The woman laughed. "It itches me," she confessed, "and it is hot, but it is wonderful, is it not?"
Arai flicked his tail in agreement. "Grandfather says the she-thing can participate in the ritual."
His mother looked thoughtful. "Oh? When?"
"He didn't say."
"Probably this evening then."
While Arai spoke with his mother, Kathleen stood nearby. She’d discerned it was rude to look at any of the males, so she looked at the rocks and let the sun warm her. It was hotter than she remembered from the day before. Miaplacidus was larger than Sol, but Mia Culpa was farther out in its orbit than the Earth. She looked at her exposed arms and breasts. She was practically naked; sure to burn if she wasn't careful.
She remembered Nadine saying there was more radiation here than on Earth. And then Parker's comment about residual radiation. But that didn't seem to be too much of a concern. The primitives all looked healthy, at least as far as Kathleen could tell.
She looked at the sky. When would they come back, she wondered? And, when they did return, how would she get away from the aborigines? Somehow, she had to get away, but not yet. The shuttle hadn't returned. She would have heard it if it had. When they did come back, she'd have to find them and that meant escaping from the aborigines. She was also sure Fagen would land at the same location. Now that she'd had the chance to look around, she thought the site was due south and a full day's worth of hiking.
She faced south. Before her, at the bottom of the valley, a stream flowed. Kathleen clearly saw the path that had brought her there.
I could do it, she thought. I could. What would Bart do? He'd just plug in and ignore the situation. Fagen? He'd probably kill all the primitives. But Harry? Nope, Harry would wait and watch. He'd prepare himself. That's what I have to do.
Sitting across from Kathleen, not fifteen feet away, the small one spoke to the woman who wore Kathleen's coveralls.
"She will need some things," said the woman to the boy.
"I will give her what she needs."
"What things does a boy possess?"
"I have this spear which has killed much game," he declared.
The woman sniffed and waved her tail. "It is too small for this female. She is too tall, she needs a man's spear. Kretin's spare will do."
"I'll fetch it," said Arai.
"And your sling as well. If she loses it, I'll fashion you another."
It didn't take long for word to reach every member of the tribe. For the rest of the morning Kathleen was visited by each member. One by one they approached, said something before looking into her eyes, and then chatted for awhile. Kathleen didn't have the faintest notion what any of them said. Some of them gave her things: a pouch, a slingshot which she had no idea
how to use, a sharp rock, to mention a few items. One of the old women brought a white pasty material and painted everyone's faces like Indians going on the warpath.
As it grew hotter and morning grew into afternoon, the members of the tribe drifted back into the cool confines of the cave. There, they found a nice spot and chatted until they fell asleep. Afternoon nap time. Kathleen nodded out for a time as well.
After a while, she awoke and saw that everyone was asleep. Raising up on an elbow, she looked around. No one moved. Muffled snores occasionally broke the silence. Moving with care, she got to her feet and quietly stepped to the mouth of the cave. She looked behind. They were all still blissfully asleep.
She turned and faced the sunlight. It was bright and hurt her eyes. She wished she hadn't dropped her sunshades. Well, if she was going to get away, now was as good a time as any.
Kathleen stepped out into the sunlight and moved to the ledge. She shaded her eyes and looked across the valley into the forest. It looked farther than it had before.
It was hot. Unbelievably hot. She had only been in the sun for seconds and she was already beginning to perspire. She took another quick look behind and eased herself over the ledge.
There was no cover between the rocks and the stream. She didn't get halfway before she felt as if she was close to bursting into flame. She had to stop and turn around. Reaching the ledge, she staggered back into the relatively cool temperature of the cave.
Outside, a deep rumble came from the sky. Kathleen looked but failed to see anything. The sound was unmistakable; the sound of a craft lifting off. Then the old man got up and the others began to stir.
*
Bonner and Nadine sat at their consoles and watched as the alien shuttle drew closer. At first, it only appeared as a blip on the radar screen, but the nearer it got, the more they could make out details. It looked like a shuttle, but unlike anything built on earth. It was approximately the same size as the Magellan's shuttle, but aerodynamically sleek, with airfoils apparently intended to provide stability in atmosphere. As far as any other similarity with Earth vessels went, there were none. For one thing, it was black, jet black. Its drive thrusters emitted a greenish gas.