Logic's End

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Logic's End Page 8

by Keith Robinson


  For a moment, Rebecca wondered if her translator had just experienced some kind of glitch. "When you do what to them?"

  "I zerng them."

  "What is a zerng?" she replied.

  "It is a special ability that my clan has."

  "What kind of 'special ability'?"

  "Many cycles ago, my clan developed the ability to make a mild current of electricity in our bodies." Reaching its arm out, Prin placed a clawed hand over Rebecca's. Immediately, she jumped and withdrew her hand as a jolt of energy bolted up her arm. "Since then, this ability has grown stronger," Prin continued. "We now use it as a kind of weapon. I can make enough energy to cause a being to become unconscious. It also comes in very handy with computers and other machines. Yes, yes. By sending a small amount of energy into a machine, I can short it out. In the case of these, however, I have made them so that it sets the timer."

  "Do the other clans have abilities like this?" Rebecca asked curiously, her uncertainty and worry about her fate lost in fascination.

  "Abilities, yes, but not like this. Not with electricity. Each clan has evolved different kinds of abilities for attack or defense. Sikaris is always careful to choose beings with abilities that work with each other when deciding who will go with him on a hunt."

  "How many are going on this...hunt?" Rebecca asked, the images of her friends being killed by dozens of mutated aliens stubbornly pushing their way to the forefront of her thoughts.

  "Two full units led by Sikaris," Prin said.

  "How many are in each unit?"

  "Eight. The High Crala thinks this is very important. Yes, yes. He is even sending us in two of the new flyer transports."

  "Flyer transports?" she said quizzically. "What are those?"

  "You will see. Yes, yes, here we are."

  Prin opened the door that now stood in front of them, and they stepped into a smaller version of the vehicle hangar in which Rebecca had first arrived. Two identical vehicles sat idling several dozen feet in front of them, one behind the other, each surrounded by several aliens engrossed in various tasks. To the right of the door through which Prin and Rebecca had just entered stood an enormous hangar door stretching nearly the entire eighty foot width of the room. Both transports faced the doors, giving Rebecca a profile view of their shape and size.

  The transports were immense. They stood about twenty feet high and were nearly as wide. Their boxy shape reminded Rebecca of giant sixty-foot long mobile homes with treads. The height was divided into three equal sections: the treads, a lower level, and an upper level. Protruding from each of the narrow windows set into the front, middle, and rear of the top portion was a weapon that resembled a heavy machine gun. The front and rear guns were mounted on the corners of the vehicle, enabling the gunners to swivel in nearly any direction. With all six combined, any approaching enemy would be in the line of fire of at least two of the guns at any given time.

  The lower section, however, seemed devoid of weapons. Judging by the firepower on the top level, Rebecca guessed this was due to the fact that the driver sat below. The tall windows that wrapped around the front and rear of the bottom level further supported this assumption. Standing open in the center of the lower section was a six-foot-long, sliding rectangular door. Leading up to the door was a three-rung metallic ladder that extended down over the treads.

  Several moments passed before Rebecca discovered the source of the vehicle's name. Perched on the back of the flat roof of each vehicle sat a small fighter plane—at least, that's what she assumed it to be. In reality, it looked more like a toboggan with wings than any kind of fighter jet. The flyer had no protection for its pilot other than a thick curved window shield that looked like it was made of Plexiglas. Offensively, it carried a missile under each wing and a single machine gun that stuck out of the nose of the plane.

  After giving her several moments to take in her surroundings, Prin motioned her forward. As they walked toward the lead vehicle, the other aliens all stopped what they were doing and stared in the direction of the newcomers. Rebecca felt a lump rise in her throat as a being that looked strikingly similar to a giant snake detached itself from the others and slithered toward them.

  The creature stopped just in front of where they stood, then reared up to its full six-foot height as if ready to strike. Its scales were moss green interspersed with dark yellow lines in various places. Four bloodred eyes sized Rebecca up as if deciding how best to devour her, its scrutinizing gaze causing her blood to freeze. She stared helplessly into its multiple off-centered eyes, unable to look away until a sudden movement from the snake's torso caught her attention. Reaching toward her were two fully developed arms!

  Petrified with fear, Rebecca tried to force her body to breathe as one of the deformed claws grabbed her shoulder and the other cupped her face. A mixture of hissing and clicking erupted from the thing's mouth, translated a second later by the monotonous metallic voice of her translator. "So this is the creature that is leading us to our deaths." It turned Rebecca's head to the right and left, examining her closely. "He looks so weak." Letting her go, its gaze moved down to peruse her recently acquired armor. "I guess that is why you dressed him in this."

  Free from its grip, Rebecca quickly took a step back as Prin's high voice responded next to her, its normal confidence gone. "What can I say, Rysth-nuul? Your clan has very strong skin."

  It glared at Prin for a moment and then spat, "I do not think even skin from my clan will be able to save him or us. We are sure to be attacked. We will never make it to this 'weapon,' if it even exists." With that, the snake alien turned and headed back to the front vehicle, its lithe body disappearing quickly inside the open hatch.

  Rebecca shuddered in revulsion, her eyes drifting toward the protective outfit she was wearing. Several seconds passed before Prin turned to her once again. "That was Rysth-nuul. He is one of our best drivers and pilots. He is very intelligent, but he always thinks bad things are going to happen. I do not think it will be that dangerous. And if we are attacked, we have two strong vehicles and sixteen of the strongest fighters in Clan Grinath with us."

  Suddenly, a maniacal laugh that was disturbingly familiar burst out from behind them, causing Rebecca to jump involuntarily. Turning around in alarm, she looked down into the face of the devilish creature that had attacked her in the cage.

  "Nix and I agree with Rysth-nuul." For once, Rebecca was thankful for the inflectionless voice of her translator, for this creature's speech consisted of shrill grinding and chattering sounds. By focusing on the translation, she was able to somewhat succeed in shutting out the irritating noises. "We are all doomed!" it shouted gleefully, its eyes growing wide and its arms grabbing its neck in mock horror.

  In the light of the hangar, Rebecca could see more clearly this thing that had terrified her so much mere hours earlier. It reminded her of a three-foot-tall armadillo but with powerful hind legs like those of a rabbit or kangaroo. The hard gray shell covered its back and extended up just past the neck. Two crooked bat-like ears adorned each side of its head, which seemed to be always slightly tilted to the left.

  "Do you think the Torlig will get us first or the Ryazan? Or maybe...he...he...he...maybe the V'skir will get their revenge. Oooh." It let out a long howl that rose and fell in pitch as it spun itself in circles. Just as suddenly as it began its mad dance, it stopped and cocked its head as if listening. Its expression, which had just as abruptly become serious, once more beamed with sinister mirth. It fell to the floor and rolled back and forth, its twisted laugh echoing loudly in the hangar. "Yes! You have got it, Nix!" It gasped between fits of laughter. "We are all going to be Mrdangam food for sure!" It rolled once more with laughter, the stinger on its tail writhing like a serpent.

  "Ch'ran, that is enough!" came a growl that Rebecca had come to recognize as belonging to Sikaris. Her guess was confirmed a moment later when the brownish gold creature strode up to them, its wing-folds of skin flowing behind it like a cape and its face a mask
of menace. "Get into the transport, all of you. We are leaving."

  The armadillo creature stood to its feet and began hopping off toward the front vehicle as if nothing had happened. A sudden command from Sikaris, however, stopped it dead in its tracks.

  "Ch'ran, you ride in number two," it said, pointing toward the other transport.

  Ch'ran looked crestfallen. "Please, Sikaris. I want to ride with you and with...our new friend," it said in feigned innocence, looking sideways at Rebecca.

  There was little on this planet that Rebecca felt sure about, but one thing she did know was that she did not want to be anywhere near this creature, especially not inside an enclosed vehicle.

  "No. Now go," Sikaris growled, causing Ch'ran to hop quickly toward the second vehicle and disappear into its interior. Rebecca let out the breath she didn't even realize she had been holding.

  "Come, Rebecca Clan Evans," Prin said beside her as it walked toward the front vehicle.

  Allowing herself a moment to relax, she took several deep breaths to steady her nerves, then followed her guide. As they drew near the sliding door on the right side of the foremost vehicle, Rebecca noticed several large dents in the body of the transport as well as a cracked window on the lower level. Furthermore, she was surprised by the lack of paint, symbols, or any other markings of ownership. In fact, the entire vehicle was caked with mud and grime, as if it hadn't been cleaned in years.

  Now that she stood directly next to the immense vehicle, she began to feel both a small sense of comfort and trepidation. Despite its rugged look, the transport appeared tough, which should help them ward off any attackers. On the flip side, however, they would also be more than a match for the Vanguard and the rest of her crew unless she could find some way of evening the odds or escaping. Trying hard to push the nagging doubts back to the recesses of her mind, Rebecca focused on the immediate task at hand.

  Climbing up the short ladder, she stepped through the open door and entered the vehicle's lower level, followed immediately by Prin. Hunched over awkwardly to avoid hitting her head on the low five-foot ceiling, Rebecca stopped just inside the doorway and studied her surroundings in disgusted surprise. The inside of the transport appeared in worse shape than the exterior. The floor was littered with garbage, dirty rags, and an assortment of machine parts. Dirt and grease seemed to cover everything, as it had in the V'skir cage vehicle.

  Not only was the entire transport filthy, but it also looked like someone had taken it off the assembly line before it had even been completed. Loose wires hung in knotted bundles, wall and floor plates appeared as if they had been installed haphazardly, and the frame of the vehicle was still clearly visible, as if no attempt had been made to cover over it.

  To the left of the sliding door they had entered through, in the rear right of the vehicle, a massive engine was housed. Like some giant mythological beast, it was belching out a high concentration of black smoke and fumes into the hangar, some of which seeped back into the interior of the transport, causing Rebecca to cover her mouth and nose to keep from gagging. In the rear left corner, opposite the engine, stood a large metal box with what looked like breathing holes in the top and sides. It stood as tall as the ceiling and seemed about five feet wide and twice as long. Remembering what Prin had said earlier about this being a hunting transport, Rebecca guessed the box to be some sort of cage similar to what she had been placed in by the V'skir. Lining the walls of the vehicle were several storage compartments of various shapes and sizes. A second door identical to the one through which she had just entered stood open across from her on the left side. The lower level consisted of nothing else save two pilot stations in the front of the vehicle.

  Her former disgust at the condition of the vehicle was momentarily forgotten by what she saw in front of her. Instead of chairs, two four-foot-long metal benches that looked thoroughly cold and uninviting ran parallel to the walls. Built into the floor directly in front of the benches were the knobs, buttons, and various other controls used to pilot the massive machine.

  But what caught her attention most was not the strange configuration of the controls but the sight of the two aliens that occupied the area. Rysth-nuul, who was lying on the leftmost bench with its body coiled around it like some unfortunate prey, shot Prin and Rebecca an uninterested glance and returned to its work, its gnarled claws punching buttons and turning knobs. Lying belly down on the right bench was the copilot. Although she was beginning to become used to the bizarre looks of these beings, Rebecca, nevertheless, had to suppress her "fight or flight" response as a thick alligator alien turned its knobby head to stare at her uncomfortably.

  The creature was nearly five feet long from snout to tail and with short powerful arms and legs. Its dark blue scales were punctuated with flaky white patches, giving it an almost sickly appearance. Protruding from its lumpy back were two long tentacles that it currently had wrapped around its waist. From what Rebecca could see in the dim light, it had no crease in its head where a mouth should be. Furthermore, it had three thin slits that resembled eyes, but each was placed in random positions on the top of its head.

  "Come," Prin said, drawing her attention away from the scaly being and toward a ladder that stood against the right wall next to the door. Prin, she now noticed, was not hunching over in an attempt to stand, but was walking on its hands and feet like an animal, pointing up the ladder. "We ride on the second level," it said.

  Giving the mutated alligator creature a final glance, Rebecca climbed up the short ladder and passed through an open hatch followed closely by Prin. The second floor of the vehicle was a little more spacious and much less noxious. It consisted only of six benches: two in front, two in the middle, and two in the rear. The benches were identical to the ones on the lower level with the only difference being that these were mounted on some type of pivotal platform. Set into the walls directly in front of the benches were the heavy weapons that Rebecca had viewed from outside. This configuration allowed the gunner to rotate the bench in a ninety-degree arc in sync with the cannon. The control grips for the weapons came up from the floor at the front of the platform in the same fashion as the driver's controls below.

  "We lie here," Prin said, pointing to the middle pair of benches. It strode forward on its hands and feet and straddled the left bench, then lay on it, belly down.

  You've got to be kidding. Still stooping so as to avoid bumping her head on the low ceiling, she walked over to the corresponding bench on the right side of the vehicle. As she drew nearer to it, she noticed that like everything else, it was caked with mud, grease, and grime. Mentally offering thanks for the scaly protective outfit, she followed suit and lay down on her stomach. "I thought you said the transports were new," she said as she tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable on the hard metal.

  Prin, seeing that she couldn't touch the floor with her arms, reached over and adjusted the height of the bench with a lever on the side. "They are," it replied. "At least almost new. This is only their third mission. Why do you ask?"

  Rebecca, giving up on her attempt to get comfortable while lying on her stomach, propped herself up on her arms and looked at the ferret creature in mild surprise. "It just doesn't look like it was fully finished, what with the wires, loose panels, and lack of paint. And I'm surprised at how filthy it is already. No offense, but why doesn't someone clean it?"

  Prin looked at her, its expression unreadable. "This is a hunting transport, a working vehicle. Why spend valuable time and energy painting or cleaning it? I don't know about your clan, but our life spans are short. On Ka'esch, we live by the Law of Functionality. Why should we care about how something looks as long as it works?"

  Rebecca was silent for a moment, reflecting on this idea. "So you don't value beauty, do you? You don't have art or artists," she stated with new understanding.

  "The translator does not know those words. What do they mean?" Prin asked curiously.

  "Nothing," she said. "It's too difficult to explain." />
  Before Prin could inquire further, movement to their left caught their attention. Coming up the ladder from below was Sikaris. Without even so much as a glance in their direction, it moved over and lay down on the rear left bench, directly behind Prin, its body positioned backward and facing the rear windows. Reaching into a nearby cubby, Sikaris withdrew a translator unit, fit the earpiece into its left ear, and placed the unit into a hidden inner pouch. With its translator/commlink in position, Sikaris switched it on and said in its low gravelly voice, "Rysth-nuul, are we ready to leave?"

  To her surprise, Rebecca heard Rysth-nuul's response through her translator's earpiece, even though she couldn't hear the alien's actual voice. "Everything is in place. Lohgur, Lohgar, and Kyen'tir are entering now, and Druen is standing by and waiting for your signal to climb on."

  As if summoned by the mention of their names, three aliens appeared in rapid succession through the two access hatches. From the right hatch came two burly ape-like figures who immediately proceeded to the front two weapon stations. Both wore black metallic armor plates that covered most of their dirty orange hair, which stuck up chaotically through their tough and scaly hides. A large hump the size of a softball stuck out from their backs just below the neck. Beneath that, each creature had a long scrawny third arm that ended in three fingers and two thumbs, which currently hung immobile across their spines and tails.

  From the left hatch came a diminutive bird alien. It landed lightly onto the deck and hopped over to the remaining rear weapon station. Upon further examination, Rebecca changed her initial assessment; the being looked more like a three-foot-tall two-legged dinosaur with wings rather than a bird. Its reddish-orange reptilian head was mounted on a long, curving neck. The thin asymmetrical body of the creature was covered with black feathers that resembled torn frayed scales except on its underbelly, which was a dirty white. Three long scaly claws stuck out from the tips of the creature's wings, which were composed of the same strange feathers. Its lengthy legs, which seemed more suited to running than flying, ended in razor-sharp talons.

 

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