by Candy Rae
“We will,” promised Dru, “depending on how long it takes us and our fuel levels. Will we then start collecting too?”
Jaru replied in the affirmative and the two Brai went back to their Quorko, Anua following Dru with a great deal of reluctance.
Jaru felt and looked aggravated at the Dglai dereliction of their task, time on the surface was limited and there was much to do.
He and Zanfanu then busied themselves gathering the myriad samples needed for their compeers in orbit to analyse as to the planet’s suitability for Daiglon colonisation.
Jaru was humming to himself as he set up the driller so that a core-sample could be taken of the ground beneath their talons. This would not only give them an analysis of the composition of the ground but would also provide details of the planet’s climatic and geological history. Zanfanu applied himself to collecting as many variations of the plant life and insect life as he could, so vital to a sustainable eco-structure. He was a happy Lai as at that moment because all the indications for colonisation suitability were favourable.
As he finished he looked up at the sky. Good. Clouds were forming, bringing with them the prospect of rain. He must remember to get some rain samples as well.
They worked with speed. With the other four away, they were hard pressed to gather the needful together in the time allowed and there were still the samples from the oceans to be gathered. They cursed the missing Dglai under their breaths, the root cause of this unnecessary haste. Where on Daiglon were they?
Then the microphones attached to their ear-knobs bleeped and they stopped working to listen.
It was Dru.
< Found them. Least we’ve found their Quorko. Landed beside it. >
< Where are Qian and Quort? >
This was Jaru, his voice sharp with anxiety, annoyance and tension, all together. So much depended on this mission and he hoped Qian and Quort were not going to throw a frdste (a Lai tool similar to an Earth spanner) into the works.
< They’re not here though we’ve found some tracks leading into the lian. Should we go after them? >
Jaru considered the question before he answered although his immediate thought had been yes, but it was growing dark.
< No. Wait there for them. If the lain are as thick where you are as they are here you might miss them. >
< They are thick. >
< Then wait there until it gets light. Zanfanu and I will move on to the site by the water we agreed on when we are finished here, which will not be long. When Qian and Quort return take them there. Gather whatever samples you can while you wait. >
< Will do. Good luck. >
Yet again Jaru tried to put the whereabouts of the Dglai out of his mind as with due care he extracted the core contents from the driller and took it back to the Quorko, returning only to carry back the portable driller itself. The rain was falling with heavy persistence. He and Zanfanu took off just as the first dusk shreds were appearing and flew to the water site where they settled down for the night.
There was no word from Dru and Anua until very late when the former called in, telling Jaru that they also were going to have some sleep while it was dark. If Qian and Quort hadn’t returned by light-up they would begin to look for them. As Dru said, they had no way of knowing just what was out there and the two Dglai might have met with some misfortune. Jaru had a most disreputable wish at that point that he hoped that they had.
Jaru duly reported the results of the day to the Limokko when it re-emerged into communications range and then prepared to rest his weary wings and bones. After the assisted gravity levels on board the ship, working at full planetary gravity was very tiring. He had some news to impart to Zanfanu, “the ship says that they have worked out that the climate will fluctuate over the xanus ahead, there will be numerous sets of glacial and interglacial periods in which the climate will fluctuate between warm and cool temperatures. Very like what we remember about Daiglon. How uncanny is that?”
Dawn brought the two Quorko to the water site. When the two duos emerged Jaru noticed from Dru and Anua’s flashing eyes, half-furled wings and erect demeanour that something of grave import had occurred. Qian and Quort looked furious, their green hides mottling dark and light.
In fact the anger was bristling out of them.
All four made a direct line to where Jaru stood waiting.
“Problems?” he asked in a mild voice.
“Problems,” agreed Dru and Anua whilst Qian and Quort said nothing, for precisely a heartbeat.
“They are of no import,” the words burst forth from Qian’s mouth and Jaru realised at once that this was a continuation of an old argument. “This is not a bar to us taking possession of this planet.”
“They are sentient,” flashed back Anua while Dru rolled his eyes. He looked tired, Jaru also noted, this argument had probably been going on since the two Dglai had returned to their Quorko.
“They are of limited sentience,” insisted Quort, challenge in his green-skinned countenance, “well within parameters.”
“They are not and you know it,” shouted back Dru. “You know the rules. We must not interfere.”
“Rules must be broken at need,” said Qian, although his visage wilted under the withering and contemptuous look Anua gave him.
“They are of nothing to us,” said Quort, “and they are not many. This planet is big enough for both of us. We can live apart from them if you insist.”
There was contempt in his last words, Jaru realised, contempt for him and his Lai and for Dru and his Brai.
“The rules are old,” continued Quort, his eyes gleaming with triumph, “they no longer apply. Daiglon is a long way away.”
“They still do apply,” said Zanfanu in a level voice. He turned to Jaru and the others.
“Shouting about it will get us nowhere. Jaru and I don’t even know what it is that you have found. Have you found intelligent life?”
“Yes,” said Dru and Anua.
“No,” said Qian and Quort.
“Qian and Quort found some creatures living at the edge of the lain,” Dru began. “They came back when darkness came and found us waiting for them and then they told us about what they had found. Anua and I accompanied them back to the place when the sun came up.”
“Just creatures,” said Qian.
Jaru raised a wing and pointed with a fore-talon at the angry Dglai, “you’ll get your chance to speak once Dru and Anua have finished.”
Qian subsided, a mutinous expression on his face.
“Go on Dru,” encouraged Jaru.
“There was a small group of them, small, almost hairless and they walk on two legs. They do not have wings.”
“An extended family group I should hazard,” added Anua.
“They are primitive,” admitted Dru with a sidelong look at Qian, “but they have discovered how to control fire. They also work with tools.”
“They were living in a tipi. They had been hunting; we saw carcasses and bones of animals,” Anua informed Jaru.
“They were cooking a carcass on their fire,” added Dru, “when they had gone we went over to look. They have tools of different categories, ones with projectile points, engraving tools, knife blades, and drilling and piercing tools.”
“Did they see you?” asked Jaru.
“No,” said Qian and Quort.
“They must have,” admitted Dru and Anua, “although we tried to be as inconspicuous and quiet as we could.” She cast a look of pure venom at Qian and Quort and Jaru surmised that the Dglai had not even attempted to stay out of sight.
Jaru took a deep breath.
“They couldn’t have helped seeing us,” insisted Anua, “Qian here didn’t make much attempt at staying hidden. They made startled noises to each other, I heard them and I can only assume that they were speaking in some form of language. Then they fled deeper into the lian, picking up their ltsctas as they went. From what I deduced from what I saw and heard, they have more than an intuitive intelligenc
e. We cannot stay here. We must leave.”
“We will not,” declared Qian and Quort, furling and unfurling their wings.
“You will so,” thundered Jaru. “All of us will return to our respective ships. That is an order.”
“Try and make us,” jeered Quort. “We stay. We have already reported our findings to the Ammokko and we Dglai are in agreement that we stay.”
“I will report our findings to the Limokko,” said Jaru.
“As I to the Jamokko,” added Dru.
It was only when the Susas of both the Jamokko and the Limokko threatened to blast the Ammokko out of existence that, with bad grace and disappointment in their very demeanour, Qian and Quort agreed to leave.
The Dglai might have fought one ship but even for them a two to one fight was a too uneven contest.
A froth-filled and noisy ferment was the only way to describe the ambience on all three ships when the Quorkos returned.
The Dglai were insisting that the existence of these creatures was no bar to their colonisation. Quend, their leader, even used the word ‘conquest’.
The Brai and Lai were insisting that the barrier was a very real one, at the same time growing nervous about the number of times the Dglai were using ‘conquest’ in the conversation.
“But it is perfect,” remonstrated Quend on the ship-to-ship link. “They are primitive. Their demise would be no loss. We Dglai will deal with them if you are too squeamish!”
“You will not,” insisted Laru in so loud a voice that those closest to him found it necessary to cover their ears with their wings. “I will blast you out of existence first.”
Expect the unexpected was one of Laru’s mottos but even he was surprised at what came next.
His comunit bleeped as he was taking some well-earned rest. He learned a heartbeat later that the Ammokko was making ready to depart orbit.
“Stop them,” he ordered. “Try to speak to them.”
“They are not answering,” was the reply.
The Lai and the Brai could only watch open winged as the Ammokko departed.
“Now what?” asked Jaru of Laru.
He shrugged.
Long were the discussions between the Lai and the Brai. Both were convinced that the Ammokko would return. Should they leave, after replenishing their stores hoping they would not? Should they stay, to guard it?
“One of us must stay,” said Laru at least, “until at least we are sure that the Ammokko has gone for good. The other must carry on.” Laru knew that this was the right decision but who should go and who should stay? He knew that the Limokko was in far better physical shape than the Jamokko which had sustained some damage in a recent circumnavigation of a potential planet not far (spatially) away but he did not want to be the one to state the obvious.
“We will stay,” announced Jalatou, Susa of the Brai, “but we ask you to take some of our ltsctas with you so that if the Ammokko returns some of our rtath will survive.
“So be it,” agreed Laru, accepting this though his heart was breaking at what he knew was in all likelihood, their final parting of the ways. He knew this was a no win situation. If the Ammokko returned, the more ruthless and bloodthirsty Dglai would destroy the Brai. Unless Jalatou used his ship as a weapon and flew into the Ammokko, blowing herself up in the process the Dglai would take over the planet. The Brai were condemned to waiting in an endless orbit.
“If they return we will stop them,” promised Jalatou.
“I know you will,” said Laru.
The Limokko prepared for departure in her turn, it took some time as the Lai took advantage of the plenty the planet below offered and harvested liberally.
“Stay in touch for as long as you can,” said Laru.
“We will,” Jelatou promised and did.
The Limokko’s engines fired and the ship heaved her ponderous bulk out of the planet’s orbit and towards her destiny, the Lai never imagining how, many thousands of xanus in the future, they would come to share a planet with the descendants of those they had saved from oblivion.
* * * * *
The Lai never found out what happened to the Brai. We can perhaps assume that they stayed guarding Earth for many years replenishing their food and water stocks from time to time before departing in their turn.
We shall never know for sure, but what is certain is that our fables about dragons date from this period of pre-history.
* * * * *
“So what happened after that?” asked Niaill, “when you arrived here, on Rybak?”
“It wasn’t called Rybak then,” answered Haru with a smile.
* * * * *
EPISODE 3 – DAGAN
LANDING
“What a beautiful planet,” breathed Saru, peering at the visuals, “and to think that we will soon be there, breathing in its clean, fresh air!”
He took another breath of the recycled ship-air with a face filled to the brim with distaste. Saru knew what real planetary air smelt like. He was one of the few on board the Limokko who had actually set a talon down on a planet during the Lai’s epic journey to find this one.
He had been a member of the exploratory team on two separate occasions and had been a very young Lai when his grandfather had visited one very similar to the one they were now orbiting. He remembered smelling Grandfather Jaru’s clean fresh smell when he had returned on board with the news that the planet contained primitive sentient life and could not therefore be colonised and that after replenishing their stocks of food, water and other items they would have to move on.
Three times since that day the exercise had been repeated and on two there had been intelligent life.
On the third, there had been no discernable intelligent life but it had been a world of water with islands dotted throughout. The Lai were not comfortable on water worlds. They had gathered what they could and left.
This one they were orbiting now, over nine hundred xanus later, was different. Topologically it was perfect, with a large continent, large enough for thousands of Lai to live and not to bump into each other more than once a sun-cycle. It had polar ice packs at each end, although the northern one was the larger. The ocean was large and populated with many different kinds of aquatics. The landmass too teamed with life and importantly, none of this life was obviously sentient.
Herds of animals roamed its plains, its woods and its riverbanks, herbivores all except for a small number of carnivores. These meat eaters were of three types. In the north lived large clumsy beasts that walked on four legs, as did the faster (and more vicious) animals that co-habited these highlands. In the rest of the continent lived a smaller carnivore which preyed on the herbivores who browsed there.
The exploratory team had come across groups of this third type and had found them to be ‘interesting’ and of a ‘curious’ disposition. They had not displayed any warlike tendencies and with their large blue-brown eyes had watched the Lai move about from a distance.
“We go then,” said Dakaru, furling and unfurling his wings in excitement.
“We go,” Saru agreed, hiding his own inner excitement with great difficulty. “A home of our own at last,” he said, grinning and regarding those Lai standing around him. He couldn’t quite believe that after all their trials and tribulations the time had come.
“Prepare the Limokko for landing,” he ordered as he glided out of the domta-space to inform his mate about the wonderful news.
“I’ll find us the landing site,” said Dakaru, settling down to the task.
The Limokko continued her rapid orbitation of the planet. Dakaru entered in the velocity order codes to make sure that the critical velocity speed was correct. It was a fast speed, the critical orbital velocity was nearly thirty times the speed of sound. If the Limokko was to travel more slowly than this, it would descend to a lower orbit under the influence of gravity and because she would meet atmospheric resistance, would lose energy and plummet to the ground. In order to make a safe landing, the Limokko would have to l
ose nearly all of this orbital speed.
While Dakaru was performing marvels with the little used landing computers, great was the debate about what they would call their new planet. Some wanted Daiglon like their home world but were shouted down by the rest.
“This is a new start,” cried Zahra, a friend of Saru, “so it has to have a new name.”
The debate began anew.
Eventually it was decided to call the planet, Dagan … home.
About seventy tvans before touchdown, Dakaru punched in the codes that would commit the Limokko. The spaceship sped along, nose first and belly up.
The Limokko was not yet flying, because there was no substantial atmosphere at the altitude she was orbiting at. The only way to exert forces to enable her to begin the landing process was by thruster action, these thrusters turning under Dakaru’s direction to face backwards to their normal position and opposite to the direction of travel. Dakaru instigated the small adjustments necessary to deploy the thrusters correctly, his digits almost moving too fast for Saru to see what they were doing. Soon the Limokko was in exactly the right position.
The ship emerged from this delicate manoeuvring in the descent attitude, nose forward and slightly upward, and belly now facing downward. Now that her speed was below the critical orbital velocity she started to descend. There was no going back, there was no longer a way to halt the descent.
At around thirty-five tvans before touchdown and at an altitude of many thousands of velos, the Limokko entered discernable atmosphere. Though still extremely rarefied and thus containing little oxygen, there was now enough external matter to undergo ionisation, and the plasma flare began to form. From this point, the angle of attack was critical, Dakaru was visibly sweating as the altitude decreased and he was tying to maintain it by continuously adjusting the thruster trims. If he dove any shallower the ship would experience excessive lift and overfly her destination, into the mountains and any steeper and she would burn up. At an altitude of eighty thousand velos, the directions controls became usable. Dakaru then performed a series of s-bend turns, banking the Limokko at each turn, the object being to lose speed more quickly. The Limokko’s snout edged closer and closer to the surface.