Logic's End

by Keith Robinson

  Containing its anger, Sikaris simply said, "Since you are uninjured, Ch'ran, scout ahead and stay there as sentry until we join you."

  Ch'ran, thrilled at the opportunity to seek out the unknown, set out down the passage at a brisk trot, its flashlight bobbing up and down in a hypnotic rhythm to its jovial gait.

  Returning its attention back to the two dissenters, Sikaris attempted to mend the damage done by the departing figure. "You have both hunted with me many times. Every time, I have brought us to victory, and I plan to do it again. Remember the ambush by the Kthor or the Lidrilian invasion? We can get through this as well."

  "And if you are wrong?" hissed Rysth-nuul.

  "Then use the toxin, but not now."

  "So what is your plan?"Tarrsk said hesitantly.

  "The Modir have several tunnels like this one that lead to the surface," Sikaris said. "We should be able to find one of the other tunnels without going very far into the mountain. We may not even meet any Modir, and the Gorz usually do not come this close to the surface."

  Rysth-nuul and Tarrsk looked unconvinced but reluctantly acquiesced to Sikaris's leadership. The snake alien replaced the cap and returned the small vial of toxin to its hiding place, then looked once more at the Grinathian leader. "Even if we do make it out of this mountain, you are betting very much on this thing's ship," it said, its two left eyes turning disconcertingly to look at Rebecca. "I hope you are right." With that, it turned away and began searching through its pack.

  Turning toward the others, Sikaris, its face an expressionless mask, announced, "We will take a rest here. Bandage your burns and other injuries. I will take care of Jorylk. Once he has recovered, we head out."

  Tarrsk and Prin followed Rysth-nuul's example and immediately began opening packages of Ager gel to soothe their blistered scales. Uninjured herself, Rebecca kneeled down in front of Prin. "Would you like some help?" she asked politely.

  The ferret alien looked at her uncertainly, as if unsure of her motives. "Yes, yes," it replied cautiously.

  Rebecca removed her backpack and took out several bandages and packages of gel. Relying on her marine medical training, she began to dress Prin's wounded side. As she worked, she asked, "Do all of you carry hidden vials of toxin?"

  "Yes, yes," Prin said, its concentration focused more on scrutinizing Rebecca's work than on her question. After several moments of watching her work, it became convinced that she knew what she was doing. Relaxing slightly, it expounded further. "Each of us carries a small hidden vial of lethal toxin, which we use if captured by other clans."

  Aware that her future relations with Prin could be hindered or improved by how well she bandaged its wounds, she slowly worked the bandage into place. "But wouldn't capture be preferable to suicide? If you're a slave, at least, you have the hope of rescue or escape."

  Prin looked up from watching her work to meet her gaze. "What was the word you said before escape?"

  "Rescue?"

  "Yes, yes. What is this?"

  "Rescue is when others come to free you," she said. Of course, she thought. They wouldn't risk themselves for each other. You've gotta start remembering these things, Becky. Recovering herself, she rephrased the question. "Well, wouldn't the hope of escape be better than suicide?"

  "It all depends on which clan has captured you. Some clans, like the Gorz or V'skir, like to eat their food alive. They eat you limb by limb until finally eating your torso and head."

  Rebecca shuddered involuntarily as the sudden realization of the fate she had been spared when she was rescued by Sikaris and the others struck her full force.

  Prin continued, not noticing Rebecca's discomfort. "Other clans, such as the Torlig, use their prisoners for vicious sport and cruel games. And even those clans that do not kill you, like the Modir and Harmath, will make your life so full of pain and hard labor that you will want to die. Escape from captivity is rare, and even if you do escape, your own clan may not accept you back, especially if you were crippled in any way. Yes, yes. Do you see now? These vials of toxin are very nice to have when faced with other options. Would you like one?"

  The very question sent a cold shiver down her spine. Should I? What if I don't make it back to the ship? What if the others are dead or the ship is destroyed? What if I'm stranded on this planet? Wouldn't it be better to... Swallowing hard, she said softly, "Yes."

  Reaching into its pack, Prin produced one of the small vials and placed it in Rebecca's hand. "Put it somewhere safe and secret. Yes, yes. Clans will take it from you if they know you have it."

  Unzipping a small pocket sewn into the inner lining of her jumpsuit, she slipped the toxin inside and sealed it and with it sealed in her heart an intense feeling of trepidation and foreboding.

  Prin looked down at the completed bandage and nodded approvingly. "Your work is good," it said simply. With its main injury mended, Prin turned its attention to its burns. Suddenly, from the other side of the cave came a ferocious growl followed immediately by a pain-wracked moan. Turning around, Rebecca saw Sikaris standing next to the prone form of Jorylk, who was curled up on the floor in a fetal position. Leaning back against the wall, she watched Sikaris intently, searching for some clue as to what ailed the large alien.

  Withdrawing several tiny objects from one of the medical packs, Sikaris crouched down next to Jorylk. Placing the objects in its mouth, Sikaris held a canteen full of liquid to the disfigured lips of the injured alien. Once Sikaris was certain its patient had swallowed the mysterious medicine, it put away the canteen.

  With this accomplished, Sikaris reached into another bag and pulled out manacles. With great effort, the feline alien pulled Jorylk's muscular arms behind its back and secured them tightly. Satisfied that its patient was securely bound, Sikaris began to treat its burns.

  As the alien leader applied the healing gel, Jorylk began to moan more intensely and rock slowly on its side. No sooner had Sikaris finished dressing its wounds than the spiked creature began twisting and contorting its body as stabs of pain passed mercilessly through it.

  Rebecca gritted her teeth as she watched the disturbing display, yet she found herself strangely mesmerized by the torturous sight. So enthralled was she that when Prin spoke, she literally jumped with surprise. "Lean back against the wall."

  "Why?" she said, suddenly suspicious.

  "I am going to change the bandage on your arm."

  "Thank you, but that's not necessary," she said, smiling slightly.

  A look of mistrust or anger, she wasn't sure which, seemed to cross Prin's lopsided face. "You want me to owe a debt to you, yes, yes," Prin said. "But I will owe debts to no one. I will change the bandage on your arm," it said with a finality that left no room for argument.

  Slightly unnerved, Rebecca did as she was told. Leaning back against the wall, she continued to watch Jorylk as Prin went to work on her arm. After a few moments, she could contain her curiosity no longer. "Prin, what's wrong with Jorylk? I didn't see him get injured."

  With its attention focused on her arm, Prin responded nonchalantly. "He will be fine soon. He is murdering his offspring."

  "What!" Rebecca said a little too loudly as she sat up straight.

  Shoving her back against the wall and shooting her a disapproving look, Prin said, "Let me guess, you do not murder your offspring on your planet either."

  "Well...I wouldn't put it that way, but...yes, we do abort fetuses, if that is what you mean."

  "What are those? The translator did not understand the word."

  "Fetuses? Well, I guess you would say they are what we call babies—offspring—before they are born," she said, sucking in her breath as Prin removed the bandage, opening her wound up to the moist cool air.

  Prin shook its head in amusement. "That is strange. Why have a separate word for offspring before it is born? Offspring are offspring." Giving her arm an approving look, it continued, "Good. Your arm is responding well to the Ager gel, yes, yes. How does it feel?"

  Mov
ing her injured limb tentatively, she found her muscle beginning to respond, albeit painfully. Still, considering the extent of the damage, that's amazing! I could make a fortune with this stuff, she thought. Aloud, she said, "That gel works quicker than anything I've ever seen. I'd like to take some back with me when I return to Earth."

  The ferret alien failed to respond to her comment but simply continued its work. As Prin emptied the contents of another pack of gel onto her arm, Rebecca turned her thoughts back to their previous topic. "So Jorylk is a she. Fascinating," she said softly to herself. Looking up at Prin, she asked, "Why is Jorylk aborting his—I mean her—fetus—offspring? Is there some complication or problem with the pregnancy?"

  Prin seemed momentarily confused by her question, as if trying to make sense of the translation. "No, no problem," it said finally. "But when on a hunt, it is easier to just kill the offspring than have to deal with any pains from the pregnancy. Especially on this hunt. Besides, the offspring would probably not survive anyway."

  "Why is that?"

  Prin looked at her quizzically, pausing momentarily in its bandaging of her arm. "Because of mutations, of course. Do not your offspring have mutations?"

  "Yes, but they are rare. Most children are born healthy and normal except in poverty-stricken areas," she replied in confusion. "Are mutations that common here?"

  Prin was silent for a moment and then replied, "Yes, yes. As far as I know, every offspring is born with, at least, some kind of mutation. Since nearly all mutations are fatal, most of them die before they are born. And many of those that are born alive do not live past the first cycle to maturity."

  After a moment of delayed comprehension, Rebecca replied in surprise, "Wow! Do all offspring mature in only one cycle?"

  "Yes, yes. Why?"

  "And how long are your days, and how many days are in a cycle?

  "There are thirty-five hours in a day and four hundred twenty-one days in a cycle. Why?" Prin repeated in confusion.

  Rebecca was silent for several seconds as she mentally converted the time into Earth years. "Almost two years," she said softly to herself. "That's still an incredibly short time."

  With its frustration mounting, Prin stared at her firmly. "What are you talking about? How long do offspring take to mature on your planet?"

  "Well," she said, wondering if this new bit of information would also make her look foolish somehow. "The typical human...from my clan...doesn't mature until they have reached their tenth or eleventh year—or cycle—and most not until they reach thirteen or fourteen. Even taking into account our twenty-four-hour days and our three-hundred-sixty-five-day cycle, your people still mature in a fraction of the time it takes us to mature."

  Prin was taken aback. "Do you mean that your offspring do not become self-sustaining until they reach thirteen or fourteen cycles? You lie," it said incredulously. "What about the other living beings on your planet? Do they also take that long to mature?"

  The sudden implications of Prin's question struck her momentarily speechless. Finally recovering her wits, she responded slowly, her confusion coloring her voice. "No, they don't. They mature much quicker."

  "How long?"

  "Some mature in just over a year or two, like you do here."

  Prin shook its head, the muscles on its face wrinkling the skin in odd directions in what Rebecca assumed to be a frown. "Your lies are even beginning to confuse you. How could your clan be the most highly evolved if they take so much longer to mature? The other clans could produce ten generations in just one of yours. Even if you were more intelligent, they would have conquered you by having more offspring."

  Dumbfounded, Rebecca sat motionless. Sensing that no further comments were forthcoming, Prin reverted to an earlier topic. "So tell me then, if mutations are so rare on your planet, how could you have evolved to such complexity? Are all rare mutations beneficial?"

  Still musing upon their previous conversation, Rebecca asked Prin to repeat itself before she answered. "No. They are almost all harmful."

  Prin's facial features wrinkled oddly once more. "That does not make sense either. If you only have a few mutations and most of those are harmful, then it would take billions upon billions of your cycles to even have the slightest change in a life."

  In the light of her companion's logic, Rebecca simply hung her head like a child being scolded by a teacher for making an obvious error.

  Giving up on the conversation, Prin went back to working on her bandage. After several more minutes, it nodded. "It is done."

  "Thank you," she said halfheartedly. In the same instant, Jorylk let out another painful moan and began writhing toward the opposite cave wall, forcing Rysth-nuul to slither out of the way.

  As Prin stood and prepared to return to its equipment, Rebecca grabbed its uninjured forearm. "Prin, one more question. Are you male or female?"

  Prin paused, the yellowish-brown fur above its crooked eyes furrowed. "What do those words mean?"

  "Females, like Jorylk, can have children. The males only provide the sperm to fertilize the females' eggs," Rebecca explained.

  The alien stared at her with a blank expression on its face, clearly not understanding.

  "Can you have children?" she asked more directly.

  Prin's features changed to reveal intense concentration. "Of course I can. We all can. What kind of question is that? Can you not have children?"

  The question cut through her heart like a knife. Fighting to control her emotions, she hesitated and took a deep breath before responding. "Well, I am a female, and females are the ones that carry children. But I must...partner with a male. I cannot have children on my own."

  After a moment, its eyes narrowed dangerously, and its gaze bored into her. "Are you saying that on your planet it takes two of you to create an offspring?"

  Suddenly unnerved by her companion's reaction, Rebecca answered tentatively. "Why, yes. The majority of species on my planet have male and female."

  Prin's lower right forearm backhanded her so quickly that she had no time to prepare for the blow. Her body swung around and dropped to the floor, her face smacking hard against the cold stone. Stunned both physically and emotionally, she lay there unmoving for several seconds. She could feel blood running freely down her cheek and lip where Prin's clawed hand had connected with the soft flesh of her face. A moment later, she heard Prin's voice above her, its tone harsh and quivering with rage.

  "I have had enough of your lies! At first, you really made me believe your strange stories. But the more you tell me about this 'planet' of yours, the more unbelievable it is. And now you want me to believe that it takes two of your kind to make an offspring? What possible evolutionary advantage could there be in that? You really are insane. And you make me look unintelligent in front of the others."

  Rebecca lay still under the scathing rebuke of her companion, not daring to move for fear of another violent backlash.

  Prin continued, its voice low and threatening, "I have wasted enough time on you. Rysth-nuul and Tarrsk are right. Even if we make it out of this mountain, we will have no way to get back. We are dead. All because Sikaris believed you." Prin spat on the ground at her feet and strode away, leaving her alone and nursing her bruised face.

  As the ferret alien crossed the cave floor, Rysth-nuul and Tarrsk began snickering and laughing quietly. "What is wrong, Prin?" Tarrsk taunted. "Is your pet not behaving?"

  The tips of Prin's fingers crackled with blue sparks, lighting up the cave wall with dancing shadows. Every muscle in Prin's body went taut as it prepared to pounce on the heckler.

  "Prin," Sikaris growled in warning. "No. Let it go."

  After a moment of consideration, Prin backed down. Shooting Tarrsk one final look of promised revenge, it turned away. Snatching its bag from the floor, Prin strode toward the back of the tunnel. As it passed Sikaris, it paused. "I do not know why you still believe this...this insane creature, but your belief is going to kill us all." With that, Prin strode off
down the tunnel to find Ch'ran.

  Picking herself up off the floor, Rebecca proceeded to clean her face and split lip with damp cloths from the med packs, all the while trying to ignore the laughter and snide remarks coming from the other side of the cave. Not knowing what else to do while they waited for Jorylk to recover and wanting desperately to take her mind off of what the others were saying, she withdrew her journal and began to record.

  Journal Entry #4

  I didn't believe it could be possible, but I'm more confused now than I was when I recorded my last journal entry.

  As it turns out, our transport was irreparably damaged by the dragon-like creature mentioned in my last entry. We proceeded on foot to try to reach the Vanguard but were attacked by a clan of multi-armed rat aliens called the Ryazan. These creatures have the ability to shoot flammable liquid from their fingertips and are themselves impervious to fire. Two of the aliens accompanying me were killed in the battle, and the rest of us are now trapped inside a cave due to a landslide. Sikaris is hoping we can find another passage that will lead us out, but the others are not as optimistic. I'll elaborate on these events further if time permits.

  First, however, I want to record my thoughts about recent events. After talking with Prin, I've learned that Ch'ran, one of my alien companions, speaks to an unseen being called Nix, who has supposedly been credited with saving Ch'ran's life. Of course, Ch'ran is insane, even by these aliens' standards. However, all this has brought me to a disturbing realization: if I truly believe that humans evolved by random processes, then isn't it a form of insanity to believe in a supreme, all-powerful being? For by its very definition, evolution is unguided. Yet all my life I've been taught by my parents to go to church, and, as my sister said, "Religion isn't all bad." But how do I reconcile my belief in evolution with the faith of my parents? Is it possible that there really is a God but that he or she just used evolution to create mankind? But why would an all-powerful God use such a poor system to design its creation, and why would he or she take so long to do it? Furthermore, aren't the basic tenants of faith based upon a collection of fictitious stories, such as Adam and Eve and Noah's Ark? If those stories are fictitious, then why hold to beliefs that are based upon them, like sin and redemption?