by Leslie Chase
“What does it say?” Ronan asked, a note of awe in his voice. I frowned, looking for a place to start, and did my best.
“I think it starts with ‘Welcome, youngster,’” I said aloud, following the flowing letters and translating as I went. Ronan listened intently as I stumbled my way through what looked like the start of the text. “‘You have climbed to the sky now reach the stars.’ Then there’s something about harmony?”
I shook my head and frowned. The letters flowed again and again, repeating, but the language became more and more complicated.
“The rest isn’t as easy to read,” I admitted. “And I’m not sure I got the first bit right. But this is definitely alien. I mean, alien to both of us.”
Ronan nodded, holding me close and squeezing me. My enthusiasm had infected him, and he practically vibrated with excitement.
“This wasn’t built by whoever made the pyramid,” he said, looking at the cube again. “But it looks like it’s been here for as long as the building has. That’s centuries at least. Could it be Taveshi?”
“I don’t know,” I said, wishing I had a better answer. “Maybe? The Eskel came from this region of space. The Taveshi might have picked up their language, or this might be from before their time.”
My head felt like it would burst from the work as I plowed on with the translation. Night fell but I didn’t care, focusing on the glowing writing. Ronan tried to help but the best he could do was remind me to drink and make me eat something.
Trial and error taught me some of the interface, letting me scroll forward and back, and I started to find patterns. The message had several parts, each more complicated than the last, and I found the language making more sense the longer I worked on it. My understanding grew, though it grew frustratingly slowly.
Athena helped. She had a linguistic database to call on, and all my old notes from when I’d first studied Eskel. Together we pieced together what sounded like a description of the pyramid. It gave measurements, proportions, and an instruction to place the cube at the top.
I frowned at that, double checking. Yes, it looked like whoever had built this temple had done so following these instructions. Scrolling through the display, I found more puzzles. Most I didn’t follow, some I recognized as mathematical problems beyond my ability to solve.
The temple instructions gave me a clue, glowing a welcoming gold that I took to mean the challenge had been completed. Others shared that color, while the unsolved puzzles shone a cold, hungry silver, waiting for an answer.
I moved through them, trying to find a pattern with no success. Too much information, too many changes, and the puzzles were maddeningly opaque. It was like the universe’s most cryptic crossword written in a language I struggled with.
Ronan prowled around the edge of the platform, giving me space to work. For once his presence didn’t distract me, though I did smile at the looks he gave me from time to time. Even with an alien artifact to work on, it was impossible to ignore him.
There were dozens of puzzles, and only a few of them solved. Most of those were early ones, then a few at the end. The last one was still unsolved, though. A complicated diagram of interlocking circles and cryptic words, it hung in the air in front of me as I rubbed my tired eyes.
Ronan prowled over to me, slipping his arm across my shoulder and looking at the display. A strange little sound escaped his throat as he ran a finger along a circle.
“I recognize this,” Ronan said, studying the display. The low growl of his voice made me think of a hunting predator who’d just seen his prey. “Those are orbital paths.”
I blinked, tiredness forgotten, and looked at the circles again. Rotated the image, and blinked again. Maybe?
Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t know an orbital path if it bit me in the ass. Trust the pilot.
“It’s a puzzle,” I said carefully, trying to keep my excitement under control. My hand tightened on his arm. “If we can answer one of them, perhaps we’ll get access to… whatever this is. It’s a security system, like a password. Do you think you can solve it?”
“If you can translate the question, yes,” he said, turning to grin at me. “I have lived and breathed spaceflight since I was a kit, and I solved such problems at my father’s knee.”
It was strange to think of Ronan having a family, a father who taught him to fly. Somehow I’d always thought of him alone, separate from the other prytheen. The image of him as a kit, earnestly studying so he could fly his own fighter, made me smile.
That smile faded as we got into the work. Translating the puzzle from one alien language to another was hard work, and Ronan struggled to reach conclusions from the limited data I gave him. Translating the answers back was an even tougher challenge, but as the night wore on we put together a solution.
Ronan rotated and stretched the circles into the right shapes, and I added the written answers. Between us we entered the last piece and stepped back to see if we’d gotten it right.
The hologram flared, words and images exploding into a bright column of white-gold light that shot skyward. Blinded, I threw a hand across my eyes and staggered back. Ronan’s reflexes were better than mine, and in moments he’d grabbed me and carried me from the temple’s roof in a dive that ended with a roll on the stone ten feet below. We tumbled across the hard surface, Ronan absorbing the impact and shielding me from harm. It still drove the breath from my body, leaving me wheezing for air.
Around us, howls and cries split the night air. Whatever wildlife prowled the jungle wasn’t used to this display.
“What did we do?” I whimpered, blinking and trying to banish the painful afterimages. Before Ronan had a chance to reply, the light vanished.
Without it, the night seemed even darker than before and I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. Painful afterimages blinded me, and I rubbed my eyes again. Ronan pushed me down when I tried to stand, and I slumped against the stone. Frustrating as sitting still was, he had a point — I didn’t want to risk stumbling over the edge and plummeting to the next level down.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I will see if it’s safe.”
Before I got an objection out he was gone, pulling himself back to the top of the temple and leaving me alone in the darkness. Great.
I looked around, blinking and trying to reassure myself that my eyes worked. Between the blinding afterimages of the light column and the inky blackness of the night it wasn’t easy to see anything at all. Staring down at my wristband I tried to focus on the status lights. I barely saw them through the painful afterimages.
I did see them, though. Not blind, thank god. Turning my eyes upward, I squinted at the sky and tried to make out the stars. Faint blurs, but yes. My vision slowly returned to normal.
I pulled myself up to my feet, one hand on the wall for balance, and carefully made my way towards the stairs. Ronan might be able to leap up on his own, but the wall was too high for me to climb without help. And I wasn’t about to beg him to lift me up. I already felt humiliated by the way he’d carried me off the roof of the temple — I’d make my own way back.
My fingers found the stairs before I saw them, and I waited until I could make them out in the dark. Tripping and breaking my neck wouldn’t help anyone, but there was no way I’d wait for Ronan to finish whatever he was up to and come fetch me. I refused to be that helpless.
As I stepped onto the stairs something moved in the dark below me. I froze, staring, and saw nothing. Must have been a trick of the light, I told myself, cursing the remaining afterimages. There’s nothing out there.
But at the corner of my vision something else moved. This time I was sure of it — but the second movement wasn’t in the direction I’d seen the first.
And it was much closer.
I tried to back up the steps, stumbling over the alien architecture and falling painfully on my ass.
“Ronan,” I hissed, trying not to attract attention and scared that it was too late. “Ronan, there’s so
mething up here with us.”
No sooner had I gotten those words out than a hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me.
15
Ronan
I didn’t like leaving my khara alone, but whatever the device on top of this building was, I knew one thing: it wasn’t safe. And Becca had looked right at it when it lit up — her night vision, poor as a human’s was, wouldn’t return for some time.
It would have been worse for me. Prytheen vision is keener and more sensitive than a human’s, but instinct turned me away from the light as soon as it appeared. Even so, it hurt, and I approached the alien device slowly and carefully, determined not to let it catch me like that again.
Had we answered the question correctly? I didn’t know, but the display had vanished as suddenly as it appeared, and now the roof stood in pitch darkness.
Perhaps it hadn’t been a password after all. I’d hoped that the puzzle would open up the controls of the hyperspace relay, or the power damper, or something. Instead, the black cube sat silent and dead. I stalked closer, examining it from all sides before reaching out to tap it with a claw.
Nothing.
“What was the point of that?” I growled at it, frustrated and curious. Restraining the urge to hit the block, I took a deep breath. Perhaps more answers would appear in the morning. For all I knew, the device was solar powered and we’d run down the battery.
There were other possibilities, too many to count. Perhaps it was broken. Maybe it was some kind of art installation, and that light display was its only function. Or we made an error and that was the warning that someone was trying to access the device improperly. Translating both the question and the answer gave plenty of chances for a mistake to slip through.
No point in worrying about that now, I told myself. What matters is that it’s safe up here. Time to return Becca, and we can worry about what happens next in the morning.
The warm and pleasant thought of a night spent in the arms of my khara vanished the next instant, as I heard her cry out in alarm. Before she’d finished speaking I was on my way towards her, hand plucking a blade from my belt as I went.
I expected to find her threatened by a tenger or some other Crashland predator. Or, worse, one of Korhmar’s prytheen pirates somehow tracking us down. Nothing prepared me for what I saw when I reached the top of the stairs.
Becca stood frozen in the grip of a warrior of a species I’d never seen before. His tail wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and a powerful hand clamped across her mouth to muffle her shouts. In his free hand the warrior held a blade of stone, chipped to a wickedly sharp edge that glittered in the starlight.
The alien towered over his human captive, as tall as me and powerfully built. His arms bulged with muscle under a scaly hide that might turn a blade, and sharp teeth showed in a snarl. Red eyes gleamed in the starlight, locked on me and assessing. He would make a fearsome foe, even without a hostage.
“Let her go,” I growled in Galtrade, dropping into a fighting crouch brandishing my knife. “Release my khara or I will feed you your heart.”
I weighed the situation. Leaping to the attack was dangerous — if I moved fast enough to be sure he couldn’t cut my khara’s throat, the momentum when I hit would send all three of us down the steep staircase. Far from ideal, but if he moved that blade towards her I’d take my chances. I looked around for a better solution. I’d not risk Becca’s safety if I had any other choice.
Her eyes wide, Becca looked at me for help. I met her gaze steadily, reassuring her as best I could. Whoever this warrior was, he used tools. That meant he was no mere animal, which was both good and bad: we might be able to come to an understanding, but he’d be harder to trick.
And he wasn’t alone. More figures climbed the temple steps, almost invisible in the darkness. I had to get Becca away from the edge before they surrounded me.
Quick steps took me away from the stairs, and the warrior holding Becca hostage followed, refusing to let me out of his sight. Frozen in terror, she hung in his arms, and I willed her to understand that I would save her.
Even if it cost my life.
One step onto the platform. Two. Then three. That was enough. Lightning-fast, I pounced.
Not at the warrior, but past him, landing to his right and spinning to slash at his knife hand. Nothing wrong with his reflexes, he spun to keep me in view, but my attack forced him to parry rather than attack Becca. Metal scraped against stone, sparks flew, and my other hand came up to knock his blade flying.
Becca seized her chance as I’d hoped she would, twisting in her captor’s grip and biting the hand across her mouth. The alien warrior dropped her with a snarl and a hiss, his tail lashing out at me as my khara leaped away.
My back to the stairs, I had no space to maneuver, nowhere to retreat to. But with Becca away from the fight I had no reason to hold back, either. The impact of his tail stung like a whip, but I ignored that. He threw a punch, and I cut at his arm, opening a long gash. Dark blood sprayed across the two of us. He jerked back, roaring in pain, and I took the chance to thrust.
My blade bit deep into my enemy’s shoulder. I’d aimed for his neck, but the man dodged with the reflexes of a warrior. Still, the wound was deep and bloody, and he collapsed, clutching at the injury.
Others rushed up the steps behind me, stealthy approach forgotten. I spun to face them, promising myself that I’d sell my life dearly protecting Becca.
Four more of the unknown aliens charged me, wielding long spears tipped with shards of sharpened metal. Metal that looked like it had been scavenged from the hull of a wrecked ship, not anything the locals had forged.
Behind those came a fifth, wearing a strange crown of twisted wires that marked him as their leader. And in his hands he carried bad news — a carbine. Not a laser rifle, something shorter and stubbier with wider barrel.
No time to worry about that now. His companions blocked a clear shot and his aim wavered. I focused on the spearmen first, ducking back into a roll that brought me out of range of their opening thrusts. Then back in as they rushed to the top of the stairs, jumping to the side to avoid the spears before charging.
They were fast, skilled with their weapons, but not skilled enough. At the top of the staircase they had no room to maneuver, and I was in amongst them before they had a chance to spread out. I opened one’s stomach, ducked past another, threw a dagger into the throat of a third. The fourth cut a deep wound into my shoulder. I pushed the pain aside to deal with later and roared, lashing out with a kick that almost sent my foe off the side of the temple. He staggered at the edge, windmilling his arms and trying to catch his balance.
One of the warriors tried to reach Becca and I leaped on him before he made more than a step in her direction. My knife stabbed into his tough hide twice before I rolled away.
A spear passed through the space where my head had been a moment earlier, my wounded shoulder burned as I rolled to my feet, but the odds were evening up. I bounced to my feet and charged at the two remaining warriors, keeping them between me and the gunman.
A crackling zap showed my mistake. Their leader was willing to shoot his allies if it meant catching me as well. The blast hit me with a wave of agony, as though my whole body had been dipped in burning oil.
My muscles spasmed, and ahead of me the spearman howled, his spear going flying. I tried to reach him, to score at least one more kill before I fell, but my muscles locked up and we both fell to the floor. My knife skittered across the temple roof.
The remaining warrior advanced, baring his teeth in a vicious grin and raising his spear high. I looked at my approaching death and snarled defiance. Muscles failed me, the energy blast of the weapon locking them solid, but I refused to give up. Refused to abandon my khara.
The spear rose over me and I snarled up at approaching death as behind me Becca shouted something in a language I didn’t understand.
16
Becca
Of all the things
I’d expected to say when I learned Eskel, ‘take me to your leader’ was low on the list. It was a joke, a phrase I learned in every alien language I’d tried. But here I was, staring at an alien about to murder Ronan, and that was the only thing that popped into my head to say.
The newcomers looked at me, shocked, and to my relief the one with the spear froze. I swallowed my fear and stepped forward, moving between him and Ronan.
“Take me to your leader,” I repeated, enunciating carefully as I did my best to form the Eskel words. A human mouth wasn’t really suited to that, but the gun-wielding alien seemed to understand.
I offered silent thanks to any god that might listen — it seemed ridiculous to expect the locals to speak any language I knew, but it was the only trick I had to save Ronan and myself.
The aliens towered over me, as tall and as broad as prytheen. Aside from that they were nothing alike. Tough purple scaled skin, lashing tails, legs that bent the wrong way, all marked them as different.
They wore leather harnesses with knives and other tools attached, and carried spears. Primitive weapons with improvised tips, but still deadly sharp. I shivered as the starlight glinted from the sharpened metal heads.
And still Ronan had taken down three of them before he’d fallen himself. The fight had been fast, too fast for me to follow, but the results spoke for themselves. He’d saved me, killed for me, and now I had to return the favor if I could.
Swallowing my fear, I stepped between the spearman and Ronan, trying to buy him time to recover. The gun was a heavy stunner, the kind police used on riots back on Earth. There weren’t many on Crashland. Every colonist had a laser rifle for hunting, but only the largest colony pods carried stunners — on Arcadia the police had plenty, so why would we need them?
Somehow, though, they’d gotten into the hands of these aliens. I tried not to think about what that implied for the fate of the human colonists who’d crashed near here.
