Prin nodded, then moved over to where the large alien lay facedown on the hard stone pathway.
With the immediate concerns taken care of, Rysth-nuul narrowed its eyes and shot an accusatory glare at Sikaris. "Luck is right. What is the matter with you? Why did you attack early? We were very lucky none of us were killed."
Sikaris returned the creature's hard gaze without flinching. "If I had not attacked early, we would all be slaves of the Modir by now."
"What?" Rysth-nuul said skeptically. "How?"
"When I heard the Modir footsteps stop as they were approaching our hiding place, I realized that they were going to gas the whole cave. They must have thought that since the defenses were down, they should be extra careful. When I attacked them, they already had their gas sprayers out."
The others, realizing how close they had come to being captured, sat in stunned silence. Rysth-nuul, once again embarrassed in front of the rest of the group, decided to change topics. "So what is your next brilliant plan," it said sarcastically.
Without answering, Sikaris turned and surveyed the carnage around them. In addition to the Modir, all of the Hran slaves as well as a good number of Lidrilian lay dead. Only a dozen or so of the plant aliens remained. "Do any of you understand me?" the Grinathian leader asked the odd assortment of slaves. Sikaris repeated the question several times in different languages, causing Rebecca to ponder anew how it was that this strange being understood English. Not only did it speak English fluently, but it did so with no accent. Try as she might, she simply couldn't come up with a plausible explanation to account for it.
Suddenly, the Lidrilian slave that had saved Jorylk whistled a response. "Yes. I understand."
Ignoring the others and focusing its attention on the speaker, Sikaris asked, "Do you know a way to the surface?"
"Yes. There are many ways. I have lived here a long time. I know the best ways."
Rysth-nuul shook its head. "I do not like this, Sikaris. I do not think we should trust a Lid."
The cat alien turned its gaze toward Rysth-nuul. "It is our best choice. We need a guide through these caves."
The snake alien hissed in disapproval, yet it could not deny Sikaris's logic. As they spoke, the tree creature shuffled toward them, causing Rysth-nuul to raise the slaver device warningly. Fearing further pain, the being stopped immediately.
"I want to speak," it said.
Sikaris looked toward the slave. "What do you want?"
"I, Lri Errhu, promise to help you, but you must help me too. When we are out, you will free me."
Hissing vilely, Rysth-nuul pressed the button on the device in its wicked claws, sending bolts of electrical pain through the slave's thick body. "You are a slave. We make the deals, not you. And if we want to know your name, we will ask for it!"
"That is enough," Sikaris said calmly. "It does not understand you anyway, so save your energy."
Giving the plant alien one last burst of pain out of sheer spite, Rysth-nuul released the button and relaxed.
"We agree," Sikaris said in the same language. "If you lead us out, we will free you."
Prin stood up from where it had been examining Jorylk's body and crossed back over to join the rest of the group. "Jorylk is unconscious from Modir gas. His wounds are not very bad. I gave him a shot that should wake him up in about fifteen minutes."
Sikaris nodded in acknowledgment of Prin's report as Ch'ran came bouncing down the path, its vile task accomplished. Addressing the group, Sikaris instructed them on their next course of action. "Ch'ran, you and Rysth-nuul will feed this Lidrilian. Use the Modir. Tarrsk, check out the opening in the ceiling to see if we can somehow get out that way. Prin and Rebecca, watch Jorylk and make sure no other slaves bother him."
"Here, you might need this," Rysth-nuul said, still clearly not happy about the situation. It tossed the slave controlling device to Prin, who caught it deftly in one of its four claws.
"I will be searching the area," Sikaris continued. "Once Jorylk is awake and the Lidrilian is fed, we leave."
They immediately set off to accomplish their assigned tasks, Rysth-nuul fuming as it went. Rebecca watched it go, her unease growing. How much more will it take? she wondered. What would she do if Rysth-nuul decided it had had enough? This entire group was only held together with the thin strand of Sikaris's leadership. She knew that Sikaris was stronger, but what if the snake alien caught it by surprise? Tarrsk would probably side with Rysth-nuul. And Ch'ran and Jorylk couldn't care less, it seemed. That only left Prin, and even it seemed ready to side against Sikaris because of her.
Please don't let it come to that, she prayed. For the first time in her life, she wished she actually believed there was some kind of supreme being that was guiding her. She now fully understood one of the reasons that religion appealed to so many: it gives them purpose, direction, security, and adds meaning to life. "Wishful thinking," she had always said. "Religion is a crutch for those who can't face the cold hard facts of life. We are the masters of our own destinies!" Her own words seemed to taunt her now. But what happens when you lose control? What happens when your destiny controls you? That's when belief in God really comes in handy. Her own beliefs and convictions, by contrast, left her feeling hollow, empty, and alone.
"Rebecca," Prin called to her as it was walking over to where Jorylk lay. "Come here."
She forced back her disconcerting thoughts and switched mental gears. Following Prin over to the side of the garden, she came up alongside the alien scientist, whose attention was now focused on the purplish tree alien.
"Have you ever seen a Lidrilian feed?" Prin asked. Before she could answer, it answered its own question. "No, of course not."
Unsure as to whether Prin was ridiculing her or simply stating a fact, she remained silent.
"Go ahead, yes, yes," Prin called to Errhu. "Eat."
The strange alien, determining Prin's meaning by its hand gestures, shuffled over to one of the dead Modir lying on the pathway. As she watched in fascinated horror, the creature lifted up several of its foremost roots and plunged the sharp tips into the lifeless corpse. Immediately, the roots began to pulsate as blood was pumped through them into the torso of the living tree. As the seconds passed, the creature seemed to expand, growing stronger before their eyes. Lifting its three twisted limbs into the air in ecstasy, it waved them about, its movements noticeably quicker.
Suddenly, the other Lidrilian slaves, having figured out what was happening, began to wave their mangled branches and limbs, their tendrils whistling in their peculiar speech. Rebecca's translator tried to keep up but was overwhelmed by the numerous voices speaking simultaneously. "Free me—I... help—Do not...leave—Give...blood...blood...feed!"
Prin was instantaneously on its feet and using the slaver's device to shock them all into silent submission. After a moment, the commotion died down, returning the garden to its former state of eerie tranquility.
Completely absorbed in its feeding frenzy, Errhu continued without pause. Once the first Modir body was drained, it shuffled over to the second body and repeated the process.
With no further disturbances forthcoming, Prin resumed its discussion with Rebecca, all the while wary of the garden slaves. "It is taking all the minerals from the body. The more blood it drinks, the quicker it becomes, yes, yes," Prin explained. "By the time Jorylk wakes up, it should be fast enough to run with us or away from us. But that is what this is for," it said, holding the device it had just employed moments ago.
Disgusted by both its choice of food and its method of consuming it, Rebecca was, nevertheless, enthralled by the bloodsucking alien. As she watched in scientific fascination, a sudden thought struck her. "If blood makes them stronger and quicker, what happens if they don't drink any?" she asked. "Do they die from starvation?"
"No. They can feed off the minerals they get through digging in the ground. But it makes them very slow and weak." Prin studied her for a moment as she digested this bit of news. "You believe th
at is what happened to the Lidrilian on your planet, yes, yes?"
Suddenly defensive, she looked at her companion, her face a mixture of frustration and pleading. "I know you don't believe me, but I'm not lying to you. I admit, your questions about how my people, my clan, could have evolved confuse me too, but it happened." When Prin did not react harshly to her initial outburst, she grew bolder and continued to vent her feelings. "I don't know all the details on how it happened, but I do know that it happened. The fact that I'm alive is proof enough."
She half-expected Prin to lash out at her as it had previously done or, at least, chide her or call her a fool. However, the ferret alien's reaction to her statements caught her completely off guard: it smiled.
"I believe you."
Rebecca was taken aback. "What? You...you do?"
"Yes, yes. At least, in part."
"What made you change your mind?"
Prin let out a staccato wheeze that Rebecca took for a chuckle. "It was actually something that Tarrsk said, believe it or not, back by the rock skeleton of the dead being. But first, let me ask you—do you have rock skeletons like that on your planet?"
Unsure whether Prin was being sincere or setting her up for further humiliation, she hesitated. Finally, deciding that there was no point in Prin insulting her again, especially considering the fact that the others were not around, she answered honestly. "Yes, we do. In fact, we have millions of them."
Prin paused for a moment in confusion. "I think the translator misunderstood you. It said 'millions of them,' but that cannot possibly be what you said, is it?"
Rebecca eyed the alien scientist suspiciously. "Yes, that's what I said. Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Well, because rock skeletons are extremely rare," it replied. "If you really have millions of them, then something must have happened in the past to bury so many so quickly. Otherwise, they would not have become rock, yes, yes."
After a brief silence, Rebecca took a breath and prepared to reply but then decided against it. The weasel alien simply stared at her with its crooked eyes and then shook its head in dismissal.
"But that is not important. That is not what I wanted to talk about," it said. "So tell me, with all of those skeletons, you must have a clear record of how each clan evolved."
Again Rebecca hesitated, wondering where Prin's thoughts were leading. "Yes and no. We've found many fossils, but it's difficult to be sure how they link together."
Prin looked at her curiously, its eyes bright and inquisitive. "But with millions of rock skeletons, why can you not understand? All you need to do is look at how one transitions into another."
"It's not quite that easy," she explained. "We've found many fossils, but not that many transitional ones. Most of our scientists believe that we evolved rapidly in spurts, leaving very little record of transition."
"Transitional ones?" Prin repeated. "But how can a rock skeleton not be transitional? Because of mutations, we are all in transition into something else. My offspring's offspring's offspring will be different from me. We are never complete. Evolution is always continuing."
Heat filled Rebecca's cheeks as her frustration level rose. "If you're not going to believe me, then why do you ask questions about my world?"
Prin shook its head. "No, no. You do not understand. I do believe you. In fact, what you are saying fits with my idea."
Rebecca, still on her emotional guard, looked at her companion skeptically. "What idea?"
"Well," it began, its posture resembling that of a school teacher explaining a new concept to a class. "You have said many things that do not make logical sense such as, you forgot how to run on four legs, beings on your planet do not mutate often, you do not eat others in your clan, your offspring take a long time to mature, and most unbelievably, it takes two of you to even make an offspring. So I am left with two choices, yes, yes—either what you tell me is a lie or it is a non-lie. If it is a lie, then I am left with two more choices—either you know you are lying or you really think you are telling a non-lie."
A slight movement from Jorylk caused Prin to momentarily pause in its discourse. Making sure that their large companion was fine, Prin continued, "At first, I believed you were telling a non-lie, but the more you told me about your planet, the more it seemed that it had to be a lie. Then I thought that you might be insane, yes, yes, like Ch'ran. Maybe you really believed what you said about these strange things. But then I realized that you always say the same things. Your stories do not change, and, as you showed with the Modir defenses, you are very intelligent, yes, yes. Even more, your body does not show any of the signs of evolution, at least, not compared with the rest of us on Ka'esch. This made me think that maybe you really were telling a non-lie after all."
Rebecca's heart swelled with vindication. "So you do believe me then?"
Prin smiled. "Yes and no."
Her budding hope deflated like a balloon, leaving only confusion in its place. So intent was her focus on Prin that she didn't even pay any attention to Ch'ran and Rysth-nuul as they returned, fed several more Modir to the Lidrilian slave, and departed once more. "What do you mean?" she asked.
The alien scientist stared at Rebecca with its typical blank expression. "Yes, yes, I do believe you are telling a non-lie. When we were looking at the rock skeleton, that brainless, under-evolved, diseased scum Tarrsk said something interesting. Although what he said about the rock skeleton was very, very wrong, it did make me think about you."
Rebecca rapidly searched through her memory of the incident, trying to pinpoint what the alligator alien had said. Finally, with no success, Rebecca prompted Prin to continue. "And? What did he say?"
"He said that there might be another explanation. Maybe you are telling a non-lie, but you do not even understand your own history correctly."
A strange, disturbing feeling began to take possession of her. Another explanation? My own history? What is it talking about? "An explanation for what? What history?" she asked, suddenly afraid to hear the answer.
Prin, as nonchalantly as reciting a simple math formula, said, "An explanation of how life began on your planet, yes, yes. Based on everything you have told me, the only theory that makes logical sense is that you did not evolve at all. You must have been made."
The ferret alien's words caught her completely off guard. Made? The very idea struck her as so outrageous and preposterous that she almost laughed out loud. However, Prin's ever-serious demeanor immediately stifled any mirth. Is it serious? "Made? As in 'created'?" she said, trying to cover her reaction lest Prin take offense. "By whom or what?"
"By beings from other worlds, yes, yes."
"You mean aliens? You think I was created by some clan here on Ka'esch?" she prompted.
"Not from here maybe, and I do not think they created you. They probably developed life on your planet and then left."
Created by aliens? Rebecca was silent for a moment, her brows furrowed and her eyes drifting off toward the ceiling of the cave as her mind sifted through her memories. She had heard of that theory before. "Directed panspermia," she said at last, looking back at Prin.
"What?" it asked, looking at her quizzically.
"Several of our scientists have proposed versions of that theory, but I never gave it serious consideration. But why do you say this is the most logical explanation?" she asked.
Prin looked at her with its dark calculating eyes. "First, it would explain all the strange things you have told me about your clan and your planet, yes, yes. And it also fits with an idea I have had for some time about Sikaris," it continued. "As I told you back at the Grinathian base, Sikaris is not from any clan that I know of, and he knows many languages, including yours. How is that possible?" it asked, letting the question hang in the air for a moment before supplying a possible solution. "If you are from another planet, maybe Sikaris is also."
Rebecca remained quiet, her mind mulling over Prin's words. "Are you suggesting that Sikaris or his clan created life on my
planet?"
Prin moved its body in what Rebecca had come to take as a shrug. "Maybe. Or maybe his clan and your clan were made by the same beings, yes, yes?" it replied. "You do have some similarities. You both are very symmetrical. I have seen some beings that are almost symmetrical, but none as perfect as Sikaris or you."
On the garden pathway beside them, Jorylk began to twitch, the spiked head turning back and forth as if caught in the grasp of some dark nightmare.
"Jorylk is beginning to wake up, yes, yes," Prin stated.
Rebecca, still engulfed in the depths of Prin's theory, barely heard the comment. She began pacing the area, cracking her knuckles as she went.
The very concept that life on Earth was created or designed by intelligent beings was ludicrous. Hadn't she always derided and scoffed at those who believed that? Yet she had never really believed in intelligent alien life-forms either, and here she was surrounded by them. If aliens really did exist, then was it so illogical to think that some highly advanced species might not have created life on Earth? And what about Sikaris? Is it somehow connected to her?
The more she thought about it, the more her mind reeled from the possibilities. It was as if Pandora's Box had burst open in her head.
By this time, Rysth-nuul and Ch'ran had completed their gruesome task. Errhu, having finished its meal, was nearly exploding with newfound energy. Prin, noting the change, was now closely monitoring the slave, the control device readied in its clawed hand.
Jorylk's eyes suddenly popped open, as if cold water had just been thrown in its face. Leaping to its feet, its eyes darted back and forth, searching for enemies. For a moment, Rebecca feared they would have a repeat of the incident that occurred at the mouth of the cave.
However, the sight of the pile of dead Modir surrounded by its companions had a calming effect on the great brute.
"Do not worry, Jorylk," Ch'ran said in jest. "We finished off the Modir while you had your little nap."
The short-tempered beast did not find any humor in the small creature's statement. If it had not been for the lingering effects of the toxic gas, Rebecca was certain that Jorylk would have torn the little fiend to pieces. Instead, the spiked alien only sneered groggily.
Logic's End Page 20
