by Ken Pence
"What do you mean?" asked the linguist.
"If he admits to teaching a native a basic language, what more isn't he telling us about. I am relieved though to find out this race has no field generators. It means we have to fear no spacecraft and it will make trading simple," the officer said sitting back in the comfortable chair.
Suddenly the officer was interrupted by a message on his intercom.
"Yes, what is it?" he asked when he turned on his intercom.
"Sir, we have just detected a ship coming from the boundary of this system at great speed."
"What is its heading?" asked the officer.
"Directly at our coordinates, sir," said the crewman over the intercom.
"All crew to battle stations," the officer blurted as be jumped up and hurried toward the control room.
BATTLE OVER EARTH
"All crew to battle stations," Andrew ordered. "I don't want to be caught flatfooted if they are hostile," he said to Tod.
"I have them on microwave captain," Steve said. "They are about within the moon's orbital path."
"Well, let's try talking to them first. Tod, you get us within visual range and Steve you set up several frequencies to talk to them through here," Andrew said indicating the microphone on the console in front of him.
"They are in visual range now," Tod said switching on the viewscreen. "Wow! They must be three times our size. That's slightly larger than the ship you described, captain."
"This isn't the time for sarcasm," Andrew said, "but this is slightly more than I imagined. It's like running out with a broom to chase off a barking dog and when you get there, you find a wolf pack. Since we're here we might as well say hello."
Andrew tried several messages on various frequencies but got no response. Andrew used English and languages he had been taught but didn't have any luck. Steve helped by transmitting using amplitude and frequency modulation, visual and sound but had no indication they were being heard.
***
"They failed to acknowledge standard binary warn off, sir," said the crewman to the E. S. officer. "They also have no visible markings. The ship appears to be Llar class in size but I cannot recognize the design."
The officer went to the communications panel to give the required, final verbal warn off.
"Unidentified Ship. This is an Exploration Service interdicted area. You will immediately leave this system or you will be destroyed," the officer said wearily knowing it would do no good. Exploiters always would try to fight. I must have been wrong about that Tros. Obviously, he is connected with these planetary exploiters.
When the officer saw that the ship wasn't about to leave, he prepared for battle. So far, a standard plan had worked on every occasion. The losers never transmitted details to confederates because no one was ever left alive.
"Sir, I've finally got them on the standard frequency. They are welcoming us to their planet and asking the purpose of our visit," the crewman said.
What audacity! thought the officer, "Commence plan," he ordered.
***
"Captain, they're closing with us fast," Steve said. "We're field to field now. Our field is fluctuating at the area of contact. They must be trying to use some type of field neutralization but our computer is keeping up with the fluctuations."
A sudden shudder ran through the ship.
"They just fired something at us and the Fast-Neutron Projector is returning fire but they do something with the output because it doesn't do anything to them," Tod said.
"Fire lasers," Andrew ordered. "Now they're aware of us! Keep punching holes through their hull until they stop firing."
***
The officer was distressed. When they were field to field with the exploiter's ship, the field neutralizer had cut in automatically. The main batteries fired but since the opposing screens had not fallen, they were not effective. The Opposing ship began to fight back but whatever they were using wasn't effective either and was turned aside. Then the exploiter's ship began burning holes through the ship, at will, with a new weapon. Why, they were using intense beams of light to burn right through our hull! So far the damage was superficial, thought the officer, but we can't have this happen much longer before they hit something other than crew quarters.
"Divert auxiliary power to the neutralizer. Turn on full thrust toward the enemy ship. Prepare the right disruptor for one time burst at maximum overload," the E. S. officer roared to the crewman in the control room.
The alien ship pressed in closer than ever to the Earth ship. The field between the ships fluctuated for a moment and suddenly Andrew and the crew felt and heard a crashing whine.
***
"Starboard bulkhead #2 penetrated," stated the computer, "total pressure loss on deck two."
"Lasers, keep firing," Andrew ordered and was rewarded by a small looking but presently ample explosion on board the alien ship.
Both ships were damaged and broke off contact with each other. One thing about warfare in space, battles were never long. Even though each ship was compartmentalized, damage to any section unbalanced the function of that ship. The alien ship was forced toward Earth and had been holed so many times that pressure loss alone was a reason to land. Only the vast experience and discipline of the alien commander and crew kept their ship from crashing on landing.
***
Andrew's ship stayed in orbit but its field system was damaged. The only casualty was Joel. He had been caught in the effects of the sudden decompression of deck two and was knocked unconscious against a bulkhead. It broke his right arm, four ribs, and a collarbone. Ling had taken him to sickbay when the gravity went out and carried him when she got back to a section of the ship where the floor plates were still functional on the way. Joel was pleased to be in sickbay but his body had not enjoyed the travel. It would be a while before he could help with repairs.
***
When the ship stopped its sickening lurches with a final bump, Rett knew that the ship must be damaged and on the surface. He knew that the crew would now be occupied elsewhere. He would have a chance to escape until someone's interest turned back to him. Using a piece of metal he had wrenched free, he pried the bent door to his compartment until it opened enough so he could force it further. He braced against a nearby wall and powered the door open more with his feet. Finally, it was open enough for him to squeeze through.
He had carefully noted locations of emergency airlocks on the way to and from his interrogation sessions without ever really expecting to be able to use the knowledge. The crew must have been attempting to repair weapons and field systems because he avoided all crew with little difficulty and made his way to the closest airlock. The first airlock was jammed shut but the second one he came to opened easily. It was about seven meters to the ground but on this planet, Rett wasn't concerned with that. By holding to the bottom of the opening he easily dropped to the ground and bounded behind a nearby cover of a hill expecting to be burned down any moment. Surely, the airlock sensor had indicated at the control board and even with extensive repairs underway, Rett knew he would not be allowed much time to escape.
With a last look, he turned and started to run only to run right in front of a light infantry squad. From their bearing and obviously leveled weapons, Rett's meetings with humans were not always on the best of terms.
The squad leader touched a box on his waist and spoke into a microphone projecting from his oddly shaped helmet. Abruptly, he barked orders to his men and made obvious gestures to move in front of them. Rett knew he was a prisoner again and marching to more unpleasantness.
***
The E. S. officer was upset by the fact that he was down on the surface of this world and his only prisoner had escaped. Hopefully they had damaged the exploiter's ship enough so it would not be spaceworthy but he doubted it. Weapons systems were functional again but his ship could only project a partial strength field. It would be several days before they would be able to lift. Sensors indicated a large group of
military and armored vehicles encircling the ship but a good distance away and generally out of sight, much to the officer's dismay. Dealing with local military, always complicated treaty matters.
GENERAL ALEXANDER COMPLICATES
Andrew and his crew were really feeling the strain of the last couple of days and Susan ordered many of them to their quarters when their repair work showed errors. Andrew had to order Susan to bed and stayed up himself until the others woke up and took over repairs. It was two 24-hour days until there was really reliable motive power again and the fast neutron projector was only a memory because it had been at the center of the alien's beam.
Sensors soon located the downed alien ship and Andrew felt that it was time to contact Earth authorities.
Before Andrew could even decide whom to contact, a transmission from near the site of the downed ship was brought to his attention.
"Hello General Alexander," Andrew said when he recognized the scowling visage on the viewscreen.
"Hmm. Things have changed substantially from last month. We, Earth, the World Government was wondering if you were involved with this... incident. There is a hostile ship grounded here and we want more information about it. We were hoping you could give us information about it. So far, it has resisted all attempts at communications," General Alexander said hoping he would not have to reveal that they had already lost an entire tank company that had been ordered forward to force a reaction. Some reaction.
"We have had some trouble with them also. I'm afraid we're the ones who forced them down," Andrew said.
"I was hoping so," General Alexander interrupted. "I'm glad we could contact you before you left on that trip to another star. You and the crew are sort of folk heroes now."
Andrew laughed. "I'm afraid we've already gone and returned," Andrew said to the incredulous general. "What can you tell us about the present situation?"
"Don’t be preposterous. You’ve obviously been hiding and waiting for everything to cool down. I would have done the same. What can I tell you? I was ordered to try to contact your ship. Be patronizing if you have to, they said. You are the people who are supposed to have all the answers and now you're claiming you've been to another star. I don’t like liars."
"Enough, General!" Andrew barked. "Simply give us a tactical assessment of the situation. Please remember that we have battled the downed ship and this ship is still the one that's mobile. We can prove our trip from samples and travel data but we need not do so for you. If you were ordered to give us information; do so, or get off the air."
General Alexander was seething but he bit back the sharp retort he was going to give. It was a measure of his quality as a general that he said no more and began to haltingly describe the situation. Generals are not used to being talked to in that manner, however, and Andrew was not going to be on Alexander's best friend list for some time.
"We captured one of the aliens this morning," the General said shocking Andrew. "He looked like he was running away from the ship and he did not give us any trouble but he hasn't said a word and I doubt it understands us."
Andrew recovered from his surprise. "Can you bring him so I can see him or is he too far away? I may be able to speak a language he understands."
The general turned and muttered something to a nearby subordinate who hustled off.
"I'll get him here in a minute. Admittedly, these last few hours have been hectic so any assistance you can give will be appreciated," the general said.
After several minutes of strained waiting without talking, a commotion behind the general caught Andrew's attention. Shortly a face was thrust into view.
Andrew was startled to see the alien face and when Andrew noticed the dark scar over the right eye, he knew this was the alien that he had first encountered in the desert.
"We've got to stop meeting like this; people will talk," Andrew said and then said, "Greetings," in Trade. He grinned as he savored the situation. This alien could be the key to the downed ship. If he had run away from the downed ship; what was the score? How can I get information out of him? Then an idea struck him, possibly dangerous, but results would outweigh any risks.
Andrew looked at the inscrutable face of the alien.
"I'm sure the soldiers you are with mean well, but since you do not speak each other's language; I'm also sure there may have been misunderstandings. If you wish, I will pick you up in this starship where you will be among beings who understand your language and needs. Since you may not remember, my name is Andrew," Andrew said using the alien language and thanked heaven he had ordered the crew to practice it between themselves when they got a chance. He emphasized the word starship but didn't see a start on the alien's face, but then he was not familiar with the Tros yet.
Rett would, of course, agree to visit the native starship, probably very crude without the benefit of other culture's technology, but it could be a way off this planet. Why do all these natives tell me their names and ask mine? Their intent is obvious, even though they cannot speak Trade. Their use of names must not be related to sexual associations and therefore acceptable for use between strangers. How odd! They must use it to tell the difference between them. It appears that I must use my name to gain their acceptance and I will do anything to get off this planet with its light gravity and horrible thin atmosphere. They look so much alike; I wonder how they tell themselves apart when they don't say their names.
"I am Rett. You may pick me up as soon as possible. Sharing information could have advantages," Rett said and walked from the comset.
A harried General Alexander replaced him.
"What did he say? I was beginning to think that it was incapable of speech."
"His name is Rett but if I recall correctly, he gets upset when you use it," Andrew said and summarized the conversation. "If you clear an area near your camp, we will land and pick him up."
"I was only ordered to request your advice and enlist your cooperation; not turn over prisoners," the general said.
"Excuse me, General. Do you understand what he eats? We do. If he wants water, will you understand? How will you interrogate him? Have we declared war on all aliens? If he is such a threat to world security, why not turn him over to people who might get some information out of him? No matter what you think of us -- we are still human and fiercely loyal to Earth's interest. How about it?" Andrew said.
"Very well, but I will only turn him over to Colonel Kyger, as he is a representative for the World Government."
"Whatever you feel necessary. Mark the area with strobes. We will be down in thirty minutes," Andrew said and switched off.
General Alexander had followed instructions and had an area cleared for landing. There were two vehicles waiting. In one vehicle sat the general, an aide, and his driver. The other vehicle contained the alien and two military policemen. Only one person, Brad, came out of the ship wearing his suit with his belt field set on one-quarter. Brad smartly saluted the general who returned his salute, and the general had Brad sign a release form he had hastily prepared. There was little conversation and the alien, Rett, stood impassively waiting until Brad was ready to reenter the ship.
A small delegation; Andrew, Susan, and Tod were waiting for them as they entered. Rett looked around as he entered and his ears twitched nervously as he surveyed his surroundings.
"Follow me," Brad said in the alien language and preceded the group toward the nearest lounge.
Rett paused and turned from side to side assessing the situation. Andrew correctly assumed Rett was deciding whether to resist or not and try to escape. Andrew knew how strong this Tros was but remembered that the Tros had come out second best in their first confrontation. Andrew had serious reservations regarding the alien and had ordered the crew to be ready for any move. If Rett had had more experience with humans, he would have seen the nervous movements and hands constantly covering the sidearm grips of the weapons around him.
They sat down in the lounge and Andrew regarded the alien for a mom
ent. "Would you like some food? I may be able to provide you edible meals," Andrew commented.
"Yes," Rett said and then looked around him.
"Go back to your duties. Switch on your intercom if you want to listen. Tros prefer some privacy when they eat. Brad, you wait in the room opposite the entranceway and listen in through the intercom. I want to relax him but I want you nearby and ready. I trust him as far as I could throw him," Andrew said in English as the crew left.
A few minutes later, Fran brought in a tray containing foods she considered would be acceptable to the Tros. She got this information from the disk Andrew had made so she didn't know how accurate her impressions were. After setting it down on the low table between them, Andrew indicated it was for Rett. Andrew could see the alien's resolve crumble as the smells reached him.
Rett took a large swallow from the glass containing water and then began inspecting the eating utensils. Evidently, the spoon was familiar and Rett took tiny sample bites of several vegetables before gulping them down. He touched no meats but ate everything else on the large tray. Attempts to eat the meats only made him sit erect in obvious disgust. The remaining glass of grape juice seemed to intrigue him but he approached it with great trepidation. After the first sip, he tossed his head back in ecstasy. With a sincere effort of self-control, Rett finished the glass in about a minute and then pushed the tray away from him to signify that he had finished. He had enjoyed the strange meal after so much time eating the bland subsistence food aboard the Exploration Service ship.
"I want information about the downed ship. What is its purpose here and why were you running away from the ship?" Andrew asked.