“Whoa…”
“Did he just…?”
Todd paid no attention. He moved fluids and tissue out of his tentacles to thin them out and started to vibrate them. Despite oscillating at a near impossible rate, the sensory information from those organs was quite clear. There was bleeding here…and here. If he could stop it, the Human would have a chance to survive.
“He stuck his tentacle into her head!”
Bailey looked on in wonder. “Yeah, in her chest as well. But did you notice that big deep breath she just took? Also, her eyes seem to be moving. I think…” He broke off as Elick moaned, and her eyelids fluttered.
Todd withdrew his tentacles. He had stopped the bleeding and relieved the pressure. There was still damage, but now he knew what to do. He’d need some supplies, though.
With the new knowledge came more. He probed his memory a bit. No, there was still nothing about who he was or his life before waking up on Azure, but he knew so much more! With this newfound knowledge he reached out to the comm circuit, traced it, and entered a command. Oh, no, that old translator voice wouldn’t do. He selected timbre, tone, and volume. Something quiet but self-assured.
“It is called the fiilaash, gentlemen, and it is how we heal. We should remove our patient to the infirmary. She is stable…for now.”
All three were shocked at the new voice coming from their comms.
Cavanaugh blinked several times. “T-Todd?”
“Yes, Neill. I am me. Myself. Todd.”
“Um, yeah, that’s Todd,” said Bailey. “Those were the first words he said to me.” He cocked his head and looked at the cephalopod. “What did you do, and how did you know how to do it? Has your memory come back?”
“No, Derek. I still cannot remember anything about myself. It is called autobiographical memory, by the way. I have had several flashes of knowledge over time, but much more has just unlocked. I think…” Todd paused. He lifted his tentacles. “You Humans have a legend about an ancient doctor who said, ‘First, do no harm.’ Your literature does not record what he said next, but I feel it must have been: ‘…and help all that you can.’”
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
“Todd, we need to talk.”
It was the first time Bailey had come to see him since the incident at the crashed shuttle. That had been a length of time almost equal to half of one of the Human home world lunar cycles.
“Yes, Derek, I should like that very much. It has been almost two weeks, I believe you call it.”
“Don’t smartass me. I’ve been busy with the red tide, Cynthia’s upcoming election, and answering questions for the crash investigation committee.”
“Smart…ass? I am afraid I don’t understand. Yes, I understand smart, but I do not have an ass, as you call it.” He was not trying to be deliberately vague, he simply did not understand why his friend seemed to be angry with him.
“Yes, that’s exactly why you’re a smartass.” Bailey stood in front of the klearplas window in what Neill was calling the social area. Todd had come to recognize some of the Human body language. For one thing, they only called their upper appendages arms, and the smaller grasping parts hands. They called their standing-arms legs, and unlike his own body structure, they consisted of muscle laid over an articulated endoskeleton. The Human in front of him was standing with legs apart and hands on his hips, arms bent at the middle articulation. It was an expression of anger that he normally associated with the—former—colony administrator.
“My apologies, Doctor Bailey. I did not mean to offend you.”
“It’s not that, Todd, but you were holding out on us!” Bailey relaxed a bit, then looked around, found a chair and sat down facing the ’plas. “You dumped the fusion core like an experienced engineer and then performed some type of psychic surgery on Elick.” The Human paused and ran a hand over his bald head. “Who are you? What are you?”
Todd thought for several moments, then began to flash a response, realizing only as he saw Bailey’s confused look that he had forgotten to interface with the translator. “I still do not know these things. I knew I could help. I could see what to do at the reactor, and I saw the captain’s injuries. There was information in my vision. I do not know where it came from, but when I needed the information, it was there.”
“Wait, information appeared in your vision? You mean, like a computer in your head?”
“I have not actually seen one of your computers, so I do not know if I have a computer ‘in my head.’ However, I assure you I am a biological creature, as are you.”
“So, you still don’t remember any of your life before…well, before this?”
“I still have no autobiographical memory. I remember some things, or more appropriately, I see information that serves in place of memory. About myself, I see nothing.”
“Hmm. That begins to sound almost like those brain-computer interfaces the neuro guys on Earth were talking about before First Contact.” The last of Bailey’s tension appeared to drain away. His body language was no longer tense and angry. “Maybe you just have an interface, not a computer.”
“That is possible, although I do not know for certain.” Todd swam over and reached a couple of arms over the ’plas to open the refrigerator and extract a bottle of beer. He uncorked it and handed to Bailey, who accepted it absentmindedly.
“Doctor Nik would have been able to figure it out. We’re pretty shorthanded now. We’ve got Bakker and Philip Charles doing medic duties, and Linda Charron runs the clinic now. She’s a nurse practitioner, but Bakker and Charles only have merc medic training. We need a doc. The last ship from Earth was supposed to be bringing us another General Practice M.D.—a guy named something like Sommerkorn, I think—but I heard he missed the transport.”
“There was someone new at the clinic when we took the shuttle crew in.” Todd had returned to his position opposite Bailey. While Todd did not hear the other’s vocalizations, and his own voice came from any of the comm speakers around the facility, it was still his custom to make eye contact when conversing with his Human friends.
“Yeah, the new guy. Roeder. He did come in on the ship, but he’s a scientist, a phud like me. Not an M.D.”
“You scientists cannot act on this science?” The thought disturbed him. “I think…no, I feel, that my kind would not hesitate to act if they had knowledge.”
“As you did at the shuttle,” Bailey said. The translation routine Todd had inserted into the communications circuits noted the remark likely indicated sarcasm.
Todd decided that the best action was to ignore the emotional undertones. “Yes, as I did.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twelve
Several weeks passed, and Bailey returned to a regular routine of visiting with Todd when he was not touring the sea platforms. Todd was working on the problem of the red tide, and he’d asked for several biochemical reagents and supplies to manage the job.
He and Bailey were discussing their progress when they heard the sound of an arriving flitter outside the recently added enclosure surrounding and sheltering the social area. A time interval equal to what the Humans called a minute after the lifter fans wound down, Cavanaugh entered, pulling a large, wheeled platform behind him.
“Neill, what have you got there?” asked Bailey.
“Well, Kazimatsu still has us working to salvage pieces of Todd’s rescue pod. There’s no usable instrumentation, but the metal itself is the real treasure. Kazi thinks he can work enough of it to repair the shuttle so we don’t have to buy a new one from the stargate staff. A replacement would cost our entire output in deep-sea minerals.” Cavanaugh grabbed another chair and his own beer from the refrigerator.
“I didn’t think you could work hull metal.” Bailey’s tone was doubtful.
“Not normally, but we happen to have a spare power plant since Todd saved it. Kazi’s setting up a forge just downstream. Miller would never let him do it—and she’s still raising a fuss—but Landing City folks don�
�t pay too much attention to what we do over here at Styx. Of course, that may change now that your wife is in charge.”
Cavanaugh raised his beer bottle in a form of salute. Todd had seen other Humans do the same gesture, touching bottles in something called a toast.
“She’s not in charge yet. The Azure Colony compact says once the Charter Administrator steps down, her replacement has to be elected, not appointed. The election’s in two more weeks. Until then, she’s acting administrator and can’t do much.” Bailey acknowledged the salute with a nod. “On the other hand, she did suggest that Todd would be welcome in Landing City, even as far as helping out in the clinic from time to time.” He looked at Todd. “If you want to.”
Todd flashed equal parts surprise and satisfaction. “I think…I think I would like that very much.”
“Does that mean you’re going to move over to Landing? Because if you are, I’ll have to lug that heap back.” Cavanaugh gestured toward the wheeled platform and the two-meter-cube metallic shape on it.
“Yeah, what is that?” queried Bailey.
“No, I think I like what you have built here. I will stay.”
“Good. I know Kazi’s talking to some folks about setting up their shops out this way, along with his forge.”
“But what is on the platform?” Todd was now curious as well.
“We were hoping you could tell us. Deep scans don’t show us anything. But it’s not solid; it’s not heavy enough. There’s some sort of panel on the front.”
“Let me see, then.” Todd reached two arms up to the nearest of several bars that had been mounted horizontally over the pool and the enclosed area. Cavanaugh had added them after witnessing what he called Todd’s Trapeze Act at the shuttle. Todd didn’t know what a trapeze was, but the bars were certainly useful for getting around. A couple of transfers allowed him to reach the strange cube.
“There’s a panel, but we can’t see much on it.”
“That is because you cannot see as I do. This is a cipher—a lock if you will. It does not seem to require manipulation. Perhaps if I…” Todd placed the tips of four arms at opposite corners of the panel. Nothing happened at first, but he continued to place more of each arm in contact with the metal. When he had formed an X-shape of about five centimeters in each direction, a yellow light illuminated on the panel and a seam appeared along one edge of the cube.
“A safe?” asked Cavanaugh. “You had a personal safe in the pod?”
“You ask as if you think I remember,” Todd chided. “I know this is a cipher and a container, but I do not know if it is mine.”
“So, open it and find out.” All of Bailey’s earlier anger was gone, replaced by curiosity.
Todd used the same four arms to grasp the edges of the seam and attempted to lever it open. While the box was not solid, the walls were thick and heavy, and it eventually took the assistance of both Humans to open the device.
Inside the chamber was a slate, one of the ubiquitous computing devices of the Galactic Union. They were still relatively rare on Human colonies. This was not because of the technology or the price in Union credits, but because the exchange rate between credits and Human currency made the cost equivalent to one person’s entire earnings for a year.
Underneath the slate was a layer of clear rectangular boxes that filled the chamber from edge to edge. The chamber itself was about one cubic meter and the boxes filled nearly half the volume. There were eight boxes in all, and each appeared to contain a different substance. One was a fine gray powder, another a viscous yellow, iridescent liquid, a third contained a solid block of dull gray metal—and was surprisingly heavy.
Another box was filled with small red crystals, none over a millimeter in size. Cavanaugh’s eyes went wide, and he reached for a compact scanner he carried on his belt. He activated the scanner and grunted at the result. He started to say something but was stopped by Bailey’s shout.
“Holy-what-the-hell-is-that?”
“That” was a stack of Union credits, each a thin block of klearplas with a red gemstone embedded in the center. The chits did not have an identifiable denomination, but one region of the rectangle was marked with a seemingly random splash of color.
The final item in the cache was a device of some type. Todd lifted it out and examined it while Bailey and Cavanaugh scanned the credits and began counting. It was just under half a meter on each side with several indentations on the top, and openings on opposite ends. One of the openings was fitted with a small hopper, as if to collect or contain something coming out of the device.
But he was mistaken, there was one more item in the cache. When he lifted the device out, he did not realize it was actually in two pieces. A second, identical mechanism was in the chamber, and the two had filled the bottom half.
Cavanaugh was now holding his scanner to the first mechanism. “I haven’t seen anything like that before.”
“I have,” said a new voice.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirteen
“Doctor Kazimatsu. I do not believe we have been formally introduced, but I certainly know you by reputation,” Todd said.
Kazimatsu chuckled. “Probably by Cavanaugh’s complaints. Please, call me Kazi. And I understand they call you Todd.”
“Yes, Kazi. At least Neill and Derek do. Pilot LaFanto has been known to call me ‘Abomination,’ but only when he’s losing at poker. I believe Ms. Miller calls me ‘that damned fish.’” The comm unit produced a scratching, hissing sound: hsk-hsk-hsk. Todd flashed surprise. “Oh, how strange. So that is laughter!”
“Welcome, Kazi. Sit. Have a beer.” Bailey motioned toward a chair and then the refrigerator. As the newcomer helped himself, the oceanographer continued, “You said you’ve seen one of these?”
“Yes, when I was a young spacer on the Mirai Maru.” He opened the bottle, took a sip, then made a face. “It’s not bad. It’s not good, either, Neill. They’re starting to grow rice up-river; volcanic soil is excellent for it. We should talk about starting up some rice wine and rice beer.”
Cavanaugh looked interested. “And rice whiskey. My grandfather had a bottle from Japan—pre-Contact. It requires wood barrels for aging, though.”
“Driftwood,” said Bailey, having sat back down and gotten another beer of his own, the treasure of the cube momentarily forgotten. “Shave it, press it, sand it, and char the inside. It won’t impart too much of its own flavor, but it would certainly produce a smooth whiskey.”
“Friends, you can talk about your alcoholic endeavors at another time,” Todd interrupted. “I want to hear what Kazi has to say about this…instrument. I also want to know how he learned about it.”
Kazi sat back and took another sip. He had a sly smile on his face that Todd had come to recognize in Humans telling stories that may not always be completely truthful. They called them bar stories.
“When I was a young man in Japan, I signed on with the Mirai Maru. My home country spent almost their entire capital buying that ship. It was old and not worth much more than scrap, but it was Earth’s first stargate-capable ship…and it was ours.
“We were the first to go out there, and we learned the Galactics frankly didn’t care about Humans. Oh, there are some who disliked us, and some who saw us as gullible marks to be taken for all we were worth. Most Galactics just didn’t care. We were poor and didn’t have much to trade. That made us beneath their notice…and perfect for gathering information.
“We were in a station with a name I’ve forgotten. I worked in the engine room and was detailed to go to a marketplace and retrieve some parts the ChEng had bought.” He emptied the bottle of beer, and Cavanaugh showed him the bottle rinsing ritual. The engineer raised an eyebrow as Todd swam over to sample the leftovers. Kazi appeared to contemplate getting another bottle of beer—even going so far as to open the refrigerator door, but instead reached into a pocket and removed a shiny flask. He opened it, took a sip and passed it along to the other two Humans.
�
�Kikori. The last of a bottle of twelve-year-old, single malt, rice whiskey.”
Apparently, his friends had become so used to Todd they were now starting to recognize the light flashes he’d come to realize were his kind’s form of communication.
“Whoooo. Smooth,” said Cavanaugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it to you, Todd. Besides, we’re going to try to make some of this. Good stuff, Kazi. Go on.”
“If you would pour a very tiny amount in the pool?” asked Todd. Upon sampling the diluted whiskey, he responded, “Yes, a very interesting mixture of esters. I detect the carbohydrates and believe we can work with this.”
Kazi raised the flask in a toast. “Gentle Beings, I believe this is going to be the start of a wonderful friendship.” He capped the flask and put it away. “Anyway, I saw one of those devices at the shop making nanites. Those are the tiny bioelectromechanical machines used for many jobs in the union. They sold the nanites, and they could use them to fabricate parts.”
“Wow, so this…these…are fabricators?” Bailey asked.
“That would be my guess.” Kazi responded. “That was also where I saw one of your kind, Todd.”
The statement was so matter of fact that the other Humans did not react right away. Their cries of “What!” “Who?” “You did!” were accompanied by Todd flashing, so surprised that it took a few moments for him to restore connection with the comm unit.
“You know who—or what—I am?” Todd finally asked.
“Unfortunately, no. The other sophont was the customer buying the nanites. He was never identified, and I checked AetherNet and GalNet and never found a reference.” After a pause, he continued, “That was the other thing we learned on that cruise. The Galactics withheld a lot of information from us.”
“We always knew there was more of my kind out there.”
“Yes, and there was apparently a ship full of your race that came out of hyperspace in a very odd location, not the emergence point. There was one piece of information we managed to find from the remains of your ship. One of the other riggers found it while Neill was extracting the cube. It’s a name: Wrogul.”
Do No Harm Page 5
