The Interstellar

by David Lund

  At one point in his dreams, Adrian Hensen’s face swam through his thoughts. You didn’t save me, it said in a grave voice. I am dead now. He tried to tell him that he was trying to, but the doctor wouldn’t listen and just kept repeating the same sentence over and over again. But then the head changed and was replaced by Marshall’s. It also told him that he was dead, and that it was his, Michael’s, fault. “But I’m doing what I can,” he tried pleading. Marshall’s head became twisted and distorted and took on a blue shine. It started laughing maniacally and Michael realized that the head now belonged to Kaywal. He tried to grab hold of it but his fingers passed right through, and it just kept laughing. Michael screamed as fire erupted around him and he woke with a start.

  He sat up in the soft comfortable bed, and was sweating heavily. Whether because of the dream or the scorching heat, he wasn’t sure. But what a nightmare. How long was Kaywal going to haunt his dreams? He had only slept twice since meeting the alien and yet he had already taken over his subconscious.

  The sun was shining brightly through the window to the right of the bed. He looked around the room. It was interesting: the walls were bright green and blue, and seemed to twinkle as if there was a disco ball hanging above him. The twin suns were probably responsible, he thought. Paintings of strange creatures hung here and there about the room; not necessarily where you’d expect them to be: some were really high up on the walls, so much that you could barely see them, (the ceiling was at least five meters away), and others were near the floor. They were of all shapes and sizes.

  Opposite the bed, there was a life size, (or so he imagined), portrait of a creature that resembled an alligator, but with fur instead of scales, and that stood on it’s two hind legs. He was glad he had not noticed it before going to sleep, as it was quite scary looking. He didn’t need to add that to his dreams.

  Next to that, was a tiny painting, about the size of a photograph, that represented a small furry creature that looked like a cat with a beak. It was kind of cute, he thought. He got out of bed and walked closer to the picture. It made him realize how much he was missing his own planet. He had a cat back home, a small thing called Marsh, after something his daughter had read in a book, he couldn’t remember exactly what it was. They had only had it for a few months when he left, but he had managed to grow attached to it nevertheless.

  As he mused, there was a gentle knock on the door and an unknown alien entered the room. He looked over at Michael and pulled out a translator from a pocket.

  “Sorry to disturb you. May I come in?”

  “Please,” Michael answered, turning away from the portrait of the funny looking cat. The alien entered and walked towards him.

  “It’s called a fregreem,” he said pointing at the animal. “It’s extremely dangerous, and quite common in the wild around these parts. Now, if you want a pet, you want one of these,” he pointed at the alligator. “A gorgneen, really soft and gentle creatures.”

  “We have similar looking animals on our planet,” Michael said, “But you wouldn’t want an alligator as a pet.” He looked at the alien, somehow he seemed familiar. He looked like any other Henfor he had seen, and yet there was something about him. His hair was white, his features dark and crinkly.

  He was small for a Henfor, about the same height as himself, and that’s when it clicked.

  “I know you,” he said angrily. “You were the one aboard that first ship, the one who tortured my pilot.” The alien raised both his hands.

  “My name is Kareen. And yes, it was I who did those things, I also hit you, for which I must apologize. But please understand, that we were afraid you might be hostile.”

  Michael folded his arms. “You could try talking to us next time,” he said roughly.

  “I realize we did not act in the best way, but please, let us forget this. Our species’ can work together now. It would be best if we were friends.” Kareen reached out a hand for Michael to shake. After a few seconds, he shook it, smiling.

  “You are a strong son of a bitch,” he said referring to their tussle back on board the alien ship.

  “I have no merit, our gravity is stronger than yours. We are naturally more muscular. How are you coping with the difference anyway?”

  “I think I’ve gotten used to it, my body feels heavier, I suppose, but it’s not bad.”

  Kareen nodded.

  “If you are feeling up to it, your crew is gathering in the hall with the president for a meal.”

  So Michael and Kareen left the room and went down into the great hall of the palace. It was a large, kidney shaped room. Along the walls were more paintings of animals. There seemed to be a great fixation with the creatures of this world. But there were other paintings too; beautiful landscapes stood out among the animals; lakes and beaches, mountains and forests. It all seemed like Earth. It made Michael feel slightly sad as he thought, once again, about the similarities between Henfor and his home world. Another wall seemed to be dedicated to people. Again, paintings of different sizes represented several Henfor. Michael assumed they must be other presidents.

  In the middle of the room was a large table, around which sat his crew, and two Henfor: Barneen

  and Gareen. Large quantities of food covered the table. Only now did Michael realize he was famished. There was a space between Barneen and Caitlin that seemed to be waiting for him. His first officer smiled warmly at him when he sat down next to her, and Kareen took a seat on Gareen’s side.

  “How are you?” he whispered gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” she breathed back. “You?” He merely smiled at her and rubbed her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He turned to Barneen, who was beaming at him.

  “Michael, my dear man, I hope you slept well? I have quite a feast for you this morning.”

  “Is it morning?” Jal asked, from a few seats away. “I’m not aware of how time works here.”

  It was a Gareen who answered.

  “Yes, our days are long compared to yours; thirty six hours, and most of that is during the sunny part of the day. Darkness only lasts six hours, and that’s in the winter, like today.”

  “It’s winter?” Frank exclaimed. “But it’s like forty degrees.”

  “Yes, it is a bit chilli today,” Barneen said. Michael chuckled at Frank’s bewildered expression. He knew that Barneen was well aware that it was very hot for them. But it did worry him on one point.

  “How hot does it actually get in the summer?” he asked the president.

  “I think the average tends to be about fifty five, but I’ve know it climb to seventy on a really hot day. I know what you are thinking. If you can’t get home, will it be possible for you to stay on this planet?”

  “You are perceptive.”

  “I would be thinking the same thing if roles were reversed. It is much cooler near the poles. We know that you would have trouble surviving a summer here, but we believe that in Tch’pola, a city on the south pole, where temperatures in the summer never exceed thirty degrees, you would be most comfortable.” Michael was relieved by this. He didn’t want to imagine what seventy degrees would feel like. He was amazed that life could have evolved on a planet so hot. Yet as he breathed in the air, it felt no different to Earth. The most noticeable thing he could think of was the change in gravity. He felt really heavy and tired. But of course, it was so hot that it might have just been that.

  He could have done with a dip in one of the lakes depicted in the paintings.

  Barneen asked them to help themselves to food and Michael turned his attention for the first time to the dishes in front of him. They were full of food that, frankly, didn’t really look like food at all.

  The dish nearest him contained some kind of gluey substance that smelled strongly of gasoline.

  “What’s this?” he asked pointing at the gluey stuff.

  “Ah,” Barneen cried enthusiastically. “This is Janaan. It is a sauce. You poor it over the meat.” He p
ointed at something that Michael had thought was a bar of soap: black and solid. “It is the meat of the Haneen, an extremely rare and delicious animal. Many pay a lot of money for this. They are

  difficult to catch you see.”

  Michael tried a bite of the soap like substance. It was chewy but tasted delicious, much like a slab of steak. He poured some of the Janaan sauce over it and took another bite. The sauce was something else, he couldn’t even identify a flavour, as he had never tasted anything like it, all he knew was that his taste buds were in heaven. He took another bite and hungrily forced down the rest of the meat. Barneen chuckled as he watched him.

  “I take it that you are enjoying your meal?”

  “Hmm,” was all Michael managed to say, his mouth full.

  Half an hour later, they were all well fed and in rather good spirits. Barneen excused himself, saying he had a meeting, but Gareen and Kareen talked enthusiastically about taking the humans on a tour of the some of the famous landmarks.

  “It would be a pleasure,” Michael said. “But I think there will be time for that later. I’d like to get my men back before I relax.”

  Gareen leaned forwards.

  “I understand, but you must trust Barneen. He believes Kaywal will contact us. There is no need to act before then. It would be unwise.”

  “I can’t just sit around being a tourist while my people might be being tortured,” Michael said, resisting the urge to pound his fist on the table.

  “Captain,” Lindsey’s voice surprised him. It was soft and scared. “Please, I think they are right, we need to think this through.”

  “We’re not going sightseeing while Adrian and Marshall are missing.”

  Kareen cleared his throat.

  “Maybe we can do something else. We have a monitoring station which observes Friiist activity. We wouldn’t be of much use but you will still feel as if you were doing something.”

  “Lead the way,” Michael said getting up from his seat.

  15

  They ended up in two teams, Michael, Gareen, Caitlin Jean, Lindsey and Frank went to the monitoring station and Kareen led the others to a briefing room where the Henfor had set up intelligence on the Friiist space stations, and a layout of their cities.

  The group was led to a vehicle that was similar to the craft they’d descended from the space station on, only smaller. It didn’t have any wheels, but was sitting on solid ground, seemingly waiting for them. As of yet, they had seen very little of the outside world, and as Michael walked across the grounds of the palace, he wondered for the first time how the Henfor travelled for short journeys. He asked Gareen that very question as they walked.

  “For a long time, we used to travel on Haleens, great flying creatures that could take us kilometres across the land. Although, it was highly dangerous and many people preferred the safety of walking on solid ground to falling from fifty meters up. As we developed our technology, we built vehicles that could fly using fuel, which we gradually improved upon until we created the renewable energy that we use today.”

  “So you fly everywhere?”

  “Yes, don’t you, on your planet?”

  Michael launched into an explanation about cars and roads and how they used gasoline to make them run before switching to electricity then the renewable power they used today.

  “We never really considered using electricity for our transportation,” Gareen said, intrigued.

  They had reached the vehicle now. It was about the size of a minibus back on Earth, but was oval shaped, with no obvious front or back. It was a dark blue, which surprised Michael because everything seemed to be so bright on Henfor. Very thin, long black wings which arched downwards protruded from either side of the vehicle. It was a cross between a blimp and a van. Gareen pressed a button and a door slid open, revealing the inside. There were ten seats, not placed in any particular direction, and they seemed to be able to change position, so that you could sit opposite each other, back to back, or one behind the other. They all clambered inside. Gareen sat near the middle and pressed a button. A control panel slid out of the wall. Jean sat next to the Henfor and immediately started asking questions on how the vehicle worked.

  “We use magnetic resisters to power our vehicles. They push liquid metal around and heat it with friction, which turns the jets and allows us to power the engines.”

  “Fascinating,” Jean said. “But ‘ow does it work?”

  As Gareen explained, he pressed a few keys on the panel, and the van began to vibrate. Michael realized they were airborne, and that they were several feet above the ground. The vehicle was amazingly quiet, and they soared up to a height of about fifty meters straight up before turning on

  the spot and shooting forwards. They felt no G-force as they travelled. The vehicle was obviously fitted with gravity stabilizers.

  Looking out of the window, Michael studied the landscape. In the distance, he could see huge mountains, probably twice the size of the Himalayas, and yet, there was no snow on top. In the sky, he could see the two suns shining brightly. One, a large orange ball, twice the size of the smaller yellow star. To his right, on the other side, was a large stretch of water, that seemed to go on for ever: an ocean. Closer at hand, he could see cities, and smaller towns. The buildings were all of different shapes. Here the difference to Earth was the most noticeable. Some of the buildings were domed shaped, others looked more like pyramids, and yet none looked like a typical human house.

  They appeared to be made out of some sort of plastic.

  They had been travelling for about ten minutes when Gareen announced they were going to land.

  He set them down on a plain piece of ground, about fifty meters from a small cone shaped building with satellite dishes on top, which was surrounded by a very tall, spiked fence.

  They walked towards the building and passed through a security barrier where two Henfor armed with electronic guns were standing guard. They talked briefly with Gareen before letting them pass.

  Inside, they climbed some stairs and entered a large room where several Henfor sat at desks with screens in front of them. Everyone in the room turned to see who had come in, and Michael saw several jaws drop as the aliens saw the humans. After a few seconds of gaping, Gareen cleared his throat and they all stood up and put their hands behind their backs, as if standing to attention.

  “Men,” said Gareen loudly and clearly. “We are here to observe, please continue with your work.”

  The Henfor all returned to their stations, and the group walked towards the largest desk in the room, which sat in the middle. A tall Henfor with red hair, and wearing a yellow gown was working at this station. She looked up as they approached.

  “Captain,” she said quite frostily as she saw Gareen. She took at quick glance at the humans before staring back at her screen.

  “How have you been, Joleen?” he asked, not unpleasantly.

  “Did you want something?” Michael and Caitlin looked at each other, both sensing the cold tone of this female Henfor.

  “Come on Joleen, aren’t you ever going to forgive me?”

  “No,” came the short reply. Gareen turned to Michael and the crew.

  “Please forgive her, she is angry with me because of something that happened years ago.”

  Joleen suddenly stood up, infuriated.

  “You abandoned your family to go and fly some stupid spaceship, it’s hardly nothing.”

  “Perhaps now isn’t the time -”

  “Fine!” she sat down again. “It’s never the time with you, anyway.” Every face in the room was

  turned towards them, but when Gareen looked around, they all stared back at their screens.

  “Anyway,” Gareen said in a businesslike tone. “What’s new on the communications front? Have you heard anything about our new friends?”

  “They have managed to block our satellites again, so we’ve been working out how to bypass their security.”

  “What’s the last thing you he
ard?”

  Joleen pressed a few keys.

  “The last communication we heard was between their star base zero three and the ship nine two eight four.”

  “That is the ship you were on,” Gareen added for the humans’ benefit. “Play it.”

  Again Joleen pressed a few keys and the strange Friiist language issued from some speakers, translated by the device Gareen continually had with him. The sound was of poor quality.

  “Base, humans have seized the bridge – are in need of assistance. Henfor are here, we are launching escape pods-have captured two humans – Captain captured by Henfor – repeat: need immediate assistance.”

  “This is base, we copy. Dispatching ship to your position, mask your trail and send coordinates, use code 964174 for more secure link. Do not, repeat, do not send coordinates on this channel, not secure. See you in a few minutes. Base out.” The recording ended.

  “That’s when we lost the signal,” Joleen said. “They’re using another secure channel, we have not yet been able to break it, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Good, keep working on it.” He moved away from the desk and turned to Michael. “You see, we knew they had taken your men, and that’s the last information we got. They masked their trail and coordinates so we couldn’t locate them. But, we suspect they have taken them to the surface of the Friiist home world.”

  “The radioactive planet?” Michael responded sharply. “But they’ll die.”

  “Possible,” Gareen replied calmly. “But they have no reason to kill them just yet. Especially as they want all of you. However, they might be tortured for information or even experimented on. We believe the Friiist are planning an evasion of your planet.”

  “Yes, Kaywal hinted as much. But how? They don’t have the technology to travel thirty light years, do they?”

  “No, but we believe they are doing everything they can to develop it. Anyway, from monitoring their communications and their comings and goings; we have learned that they have returned to the surface several times. We have reason to believe they have built a shelter underground, or possibly deep underwater.”