Well, I . . . don’t?
And besides, I am required to write an account of my experiences on this trip for school. And should we return home after all this, I would like to get an exceptional graaaaade.
If you get a bad grade for anything after all this, like, ever, I think your parents should complain.
I think Carl’s alive. Don’t you? I think all the others are okay. Josephine wouldn’t have done what she did if she didn’t have a plan, and she’s smart, and Lena didn’t look worried. Well, not that she really ever looks worried. She doesn’t really do facial expressions. . . .
Aaaaaaah. She appears blank, even to other humans?
Sometimes. But I still think she wasn’t that worried, and so she must think Josephine knew what she was doing. So . . . I think they’re okay. Like, maybe they’re on the planet we saw, because it doesn’t seem like they came back to the ship. So that’s probably where they are, and I think they’re okay. Don’t you?
We know nothing about the atmosphere of the planet or whether it is capable of supporting human life. I mean . . . yes. I am sure they are quite well.
Are you?
Yes.
Then why are you orange?
I’m not. I aaaam . . . aaaaaah . . . amber. The implications are quite different.
I think you look really orange, though.
I am not. Look, I am quite green in places. The light in here is not good. Perhaps you cannot see how green I am.
So you think they’re fine.
Yes.
What is happening with your face? What color would you be if you were normal?
Are you crying?
Please do not cry, Noel, I will play I spyyyyy with you.
O-okay.
Do you want me to teach it to you?
Of course not. I have been learning all about human children and their games. I have been assisting the reconciliation process; it is important. I am very good at cat’s cradle, although I do not understand its purpose. I could also play oranges and lemons or huckle buckle beanstalk.
I don’t know what those are.
How strange. I will begin. I spy, with my little eeeeeye, something beginning with U.
U? I can’t see anything in here with U. Ugly . . . wall paintings? Underfoot . . . floor?
No.
Then I don’t know.
I was spying Uncertainty. I win.
You can’t . . . look, no. You can’t see uncertainty.
Of course you can. Look.
Is that the color you are? Look, never mind. Fine, let’s do historical documentation. Turn the recording thing on again.
I didn’t turn it off.
Okay. So look, we’re on a ship, we’re hiding in a kind of cupboard . . . we’re waiting for—
No, no, that won’t do, you cannot start with our situation now. You should explain how we came to be here. You must begin with how we were traveling to Aushalawa-Moraaa when we were kidnapped by the Kuraaa-Kalaaa.
That’s not how they say their name. They say it more like Krakkiluks, I think.
That is about as accurate as “Morrors,” I suppose, which is to say minimally.
All right, so like you said, we were traveling on the Helen of Troy to Aushalawa-Moraaa, and we got kidnapped by the Kuraaa-Kalaaa or the Krakkiluks or whatever you want to call them. There, okay? They said they’d throw us out of the airlock if the humans and Morrors didn’t terraform Aushalawa-Moraaa back to how it was. But all those Morrors live there.
And they—they—
I have documented that part already. They ejected first Caaaaaaaarl and then Aleece from the ship.
But then Josephine grabbed the Goldfish and hit the button and jumped out. She jumped out. She didn’t say anything to either of us first, she didn’t even look, she just got up and hit the button and jumped on the round hatch and it, like, spat her out before anyone could do anything.
Everyone was freaked out by that.
I was indeed freeeeeeaked.
Lena sort of clenched her fists but didn’t say anything. Dr. Muldoon shouted and nearly toppled over again, and Lena and Mr. Trommler had to hold her up.
But it wasn’t just the humans who were freaked out: the Krakkiluks were too. Lady Sklat-thingy was making noises a bit like hermit crabs make when they’re distressed, and everything . . . stopped for a while. They’d been telling President Chakrabarty everything about what they were doing—they told him about Carl and about Alice. But they didn’t say anything about Josephine.
I agree. It iiiis in their interests to appear in complete control of the situation. Josephine’s action disrupted that.
Dr. Muldoon had already said she’d do what they wanted. And anyway, they were kind of running out of kids to throw. I mean, what are they going to say to Earth or Aushalawa-Moraaa, “Oops, all the hostages are already dead, but you should do what we want anyway”?
So Lady Slat-thingy said she’d continue talking with President Chakrabarty later, and then she pointed at Dr. Muldoon and said, “You will be privileged to enter the heart of the Grand Expanse.”
And Dr. Muldoon said, “. . . Uh.”
Then Lady Slat-thingy said, “You will demonstrate your ability to shape a planet to your will, so that our colonists can learn.”
“Oh, god,” Dr. Muldoon said. “Do you need me for that? I mean, surely . . . the science of the Grand Expanse far surpasses that of Earth.”
“No,” Lady Slat-thingy said, and then stopped and waggled her eyes in annoyance. “That is to say, YES,” she corrected herself loudly. “You and your accelerated terraforming are an aberration. By some accident of the universe, you have happened upon what should have been Krakkiluk knowledge.”
“You are an exceptional scientist, Valerie,” said Lena with a tiny smile.
Dr. Muldoon then squared her shoulders and grinned joylessly. “Look, I said yes to Aushalawa-Moraaa, to undoing what I did—but I can’t help you conquer other planets.” She threw up her hands. “I’m not one for grand gestures, but well, there it is. Can’t do it, so I suppose you’ll have to kill me too.”
“No, Dr. Muldoon!” I said.
“We’re not going to kill you,” said Lady Slat-thingy, clanking some golden panels on the torso of her exoskeleton like a parrot puffing out its feathers. “At least not without the observance of the proper procedures. What do you take us for?”
“People who just threw children into space without oxygen?” said Dr. Muldoon, her voice getting kind of squawky now.
“But those were spawn,” said Lady Slat-thingy, confused, clanking some more. “And we will of course throw the remainder if you give us cause.”
Dr. Muldoon rubbed her face with her hands, and then she was sort of looking around like she was trying to think of some way to not have this happen. She said to us, “I’m so sorry.”
I said, “It’s not your fault.”
And Dr. Muldoon was going to insist that it was her fault, I think, but then Lady Slatty-slat poked Lena with a golden pincer and said, “Do you need this person to assist your science?”
Poor Dr. Muldoon was on the spot again, trying to decide whether she should say no, so that Lena wouldn’t be taken even farther away from Earth, or yes, so the Krakkiluks would have a good reason to keep her alive.
“We work in completely different disciplines,” said Lena firmly, looking hard at Dr. Muldoon.
“That’s right,” said Dr. Muldoon, looking a little bit less upset. “No need at all, absolutely fine without her. Good-bye, everyone.”
The Krakkiluks let Dr. Muldoon walk off the bridge, but there was a Krakkiluk soldier with a pincer on each of her shoulders.
Then Lady Slatty-thing said, “Take this one and question him,” and pointed at Mr. Trommler, who looked as if he was about to be sick.
“Papa?” whimpered Christa.
“You’re making a mistake,” insisted Mr. Trommler. But Tlag-li-Glig, who’s the one covered in diamonds, scooped him up, and he and Krnk-ni-Pl
ik, the one covered in spikes, went with them, and Lena did look worried after that.
A few minutes later, I saw a tiny ship whisking past the window before it vanished into hyperspace, and I guess Dr. Muldoon was on it. I don’t know where she is now.
I hope she’s okay. And Lena. And Mr. Trommler. And Christa—even she doesn’t deserve all this. And Ormerod . . . I hope maybe Helen can feed her.
And I hope Helen’s okay.
I hope everyone’s okay.
There was this one thing. This one thing I noticed before they took Lena away. And I think Dr. Muldoon saw it too and that’s why she looked a bit less unhappy.
Lena was wearing these big, fancy gold earrings inside her helmet. And she isn’t a fancy jewelry kind of person, and I didn’t think she’d been wearing them before we’d been captured.
So anyway, after that, the one with the battle painted on his chest—at least I think he was a he? He picked me up and carried me off the bridge and into a long red corridor lined with doors. I could see Thsaaa dangling over one of the others’ shoulders. But I got thrown into a cell by myself.
And the guy with the battle on his chest pulled my helmet off—really easily, too. And walked out and shut the door, and there was a hissing noise and a funny noise. And if I’d never been gassed unconscious before, I guess I’d have been really scared, so it’s a good thing I have.
I too was rendered unconscious, and I believe at least one day, and perhaps more, must have passed before I awoke.
Waking up on the floor of the cell and remembering why I was there and what had happened to Carl was really bad. I kind of figured the Krakkiluks must be going to take us back to the bridge and throw us out if they didn’t get something else they wanted. But it was ages before anything happened, and nothing to do but look around. There wasn’t anything in the cell, no windows, and nothing to lie down or sit on. I’m not sure if that was them being cruel to prisoners or if they just don’t do furniture? The floor was kind of rubbery, though, so lying on it wasn’t that uncomfortable. And there were lots of paintings.
Their paintings are quite impressive but extremely sensationalist in style.
In my chamber, the walls displayed what I think was a hero Kuraaa-Kalaaa couple being praised and adored by members of other species.
In mine, there were lots of Krakkiluks playing musical instruments and then this big picture of a Krakkiluk who was dead, and another Krakkiluk bending over the dead one and waving his arms.
And there was a sort of fountain thing and a drain in the floor so you could have a drink or go to the bathroom, though it would be embarrassing and weird. After a while I tried to get interested in the paintings, because, well, it is interesting. So I thought, Ooh, look, I’d have thought their blood would be blue, like lobsters’, but it’s yellow, which is more like beetles. But I couldn’t get all that into it. I mean, Carl. And Mum and Dad . . .
Oh, I was there such a long time all by myself. It was so bad. Do I have to keep talking about it?
No, I will use a Paralashath here to convey your feelings.
Huh. Okay.
So I was there for ages and I tried to go to sleep on the floor, because everything was so awful and even the dead Krakkiluk in the picture was making me upset.
Then I heard all this noise outside, the Krakkiluks tramping up and down and clattering at each other. And then the door opened, and two came in. I think they were another married couple—they all seem to go around like that together? One of them was painted shiny black like an oil slick, and the other was painted with different skies, sunsets and moons and clouds.
They brought me some food, human food from the Helen. I guess that’s easier than giving us whatever they eat and finding it’s poisonous for us. Anyway, instead of just taking me back to the bridge, they talked to me, which is weird because they don’t normally talk to spawn. They seemed to think it was weird too; they kept looking at each other and clacking their armor, and sometimes they held pincers or patted each other, like, “I know it’s weird talking to this spawn, but hang in there, we can get through this.”
But they didn’t say that, at least not in English. They asked me lots of questions about Earth and was it true that the seas were warm. And I said they were a lot colder than they used to be because of the Morrors coming and freezing the planet, because I got the feeling it wasn’t a good idea to say yes.
But mostly whatever they asked, I said, “I’m sorry, I’m just a spawn, I don’t know anything.”
And then they started asking about Morrors and, particularly, what makes them disappear.
“I’m just a spawn,” I said. “I’m only nine. Nine-year-old spawn are total idiots.”
And they said, “But you are capable of speech. Human spawn mature improperly quickly. You must have acquired some information along with language.”
“Well, Morrors can disappear,” I said. “I know that. Everyone knows that. But I don’t know how they do it, because I’m just spawn. No one tells spawn anything.”
And you know what, they clearly found talking to me so unpleasant that they actually believed me. And then they went and I was by myself again.
Then there’s this voice right by my ear going: “Noooooooel, I am here.”
I don’t sound like that.
Oh, sorry.
You made a very peculiar noise, certainly.
I couldn’t see that shimmer in the air Alice talks about, but I could feel the cold of your invisibility gown. You didn’t take it off.
You said, “Nooooeel, be quick, come closer!” And then you threw the invisibility gown over my head.
I had folded my amlaa-vel-esh very small, under my kilt. I had had no opportunity to put it on when the Kuraaa-Kalaaa seized me, and could not tell anyone I had it. In my cell, I was made unconscious before I could use it. But when at last I awakened, I had my chance. I was not sure if I was being watched, but I hoped I was, and I retreated into a corner and threw on the amlaa-vel-esh so it would appear as if I had ceased to be in the room at all. If they had invisibility technology at a standard matching ours, of course, my plan would fail, but they had confessed that in the matter of terraforming they were behind humans, so I was hopeful.
It was a greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-ehhh-eeeeeaaaat relief to be inside the amlaa-vel-esh. This ship is so hot and moist. Even when I was wrapped in a light cooling gown, it had been scarcely bearable. The air in the cell had been cooled a little for Morror needs—survivable, but not comfortable. I spread my limbs within the amlaa-vel-esh and tried to soak in its cool.
I had not loooong to wait. In due course the Kuraaa-Kalaaa did come, and opened the door to investigate how their prisoner had vanished.
While the door stood open, I gathered the amlaa-vel-esh as tight around me as I could and slipped through it. Here, it was an advantage that they are soooooooo much larger than we are. Outside the cell, I ventured down the red passageway. The Kuraaa-Kalaaa were, of course, not using their translator boxes to speak among themselves and they neither change color like Morrors nor move their faces, so their intentions were not easy to understand—however, they do gesture somewhat like humans.
Thsaaa, they are nothing like humans. They are like lobsters and parrots. I wouldn’t say that about your species.
Very well, I apologize.
However, they do express agitation in a manner like humans, with waving of the arms. They were alarmed by my disappearance and anxious to learn where I had gone. Some of them came and went and spoke into their devices. But two—the shiny black one and the one painted with clouds—approached Noel’s cell; I knew because I had seen them place him inside the room when we were brought to the prison.
So when they entered Noel’s cell, I followed them.
I’ve never been under an invisibility gown before. You can see through it from the inside, but everything looks—I don’t know how to put it—almost more bright and detailed than normal, but sort of as if it’s floating and not real. And maybe slightly p
urple?
No.
And of course I could also see you —
Not “you.” You are not talking to me. You are talking to the historians of the future.
All right, fine.
I could see Thsaaa—at least, their tentacles, wrapped around my shoulders, flickering all light green and pink, but we were squashed so close together I couldn’t see their face. It was also very uncomfortable under there, because the gown was really really cold on my face and Thsaaa was burning hot against my back.
It didn’t feel like we were invisible. It felt like we were having a weird hug in a freezing-cold bag in the middle of the room, for no reason.
“We must wait,” Thsaaa said.
It felt like we were sitting there for ages, all hot and cold and tangled up. The fountainy thing kept trickling away, and I wished I’d used it earlier. Obviously it was too late now.
Then the Krakkiluks did come back, and discovered I’d disappeared too. And yeah, to be fair, they did wave their arms around a bit.
“Crunch, clak, crunch!” went the one with the clouds.
“Crackle, splat, clop!” went the one in shiny black. I mean, not really, it just sounded a bit like that. I guess I’m being kinda rude. But they did kidnap us, so.
The door was still open. We shuffled and tripped toward it and nearly fell over each other inside the gown, and it felt like we were the most obvious thing on a ship full of people covered in spikes and diamonds, but the Krakkiluks didn’t see us even as we waddled right past their legs and out into the corridor.
And for a moment I was all, like, “Yay, we’ve escaped!” and then I was, like, “Oh, no, we haven’t.” Because we were still on that prison corridor, and still on an alien ship in the middle of nowhere. We couldn’t even get out of the corridor because it was filled with Krakkiluks and the door was shut.
Then, I guess giving up on finding us, one of the soldiers laid a claw on a panel beside the door, which slid open, and all the Krakkiluks started filing out.
And we went after them.
As the last Krakkiluk skittered through, the door slid down and there was, like, not even a foot of space left when Thsaaa hurled themself through, dragging me in a tangle of tentacles and the door shut and there we were on the floor on the other side, almost under the feet of the departing Krakkiluks.
Space Hostages Page 11