The Fifth Civilization: A Novel

by Peter Bingham-Pankratz

  “Of course! But I am amazed at your strength. I can’t recall another Earthman who killed a Kotaran and lived to tell about it.”

  “Actually, Kel here and my copilot Masao got the drop on one close to the cockpit of our ship. And Joseph here helped a bunch of the crew get the third. Didn’t you, Joseph?”

  “Um…that was me, all right.” In fact, Joseph hadn’t been among the team that cornered and killed the third Kotaran. That was Mikhail, Vitaly, and Ahmed, and a few others who died of their wounds shortly thereafter. But it didn’t hurt to embellish a little. It wasn’t like they were telling Duvurn the whole truth, anyway.

  “Still, you got yours on your own! Such a strong group of Earthmen I have here! I will want to talk to you more, or at least read your recountings when they are published. Surely you all will write books on this subject, or dictate them. Do you think they’ll make a holofilm out of your troubles? Earth holofilms are fascinating.”

  “It’s possible,” Kel said.

  “Do you by any chance have the location of the planet?” Duvurn asked, tapping his spoon against the table, impatiently, as if this were the point he’d been circling around. “There are a few freighters that head out past Bauxa, resupply vessels for science outposts and other places. Perhaps they have seen something in this general area.”

  “I’m afraid, Your Excellency, that I don’t have the information off the top of my head,” Kel said.

  “And we can’t really discuss such matters,” David said, putting his spoon diagonally across the plate. Roan saw that the Nyden’s areya vo had been finished quickly and there was no trace of it left. He hadn’t even seen it go down the man’s gullet. “I have been instructed not to reveal the location to anyone else besides a select few, and that is just Captain Streb and myself. It would be unfortunate if this information leaked out to unwelcome parties, such as our pursuers in Erwo Seg.”

  “Yes,” Duvurn said, clasping his hands together. He gave the crew a once over, and the candlelight danced around his face. If Roan hadn’t known better he’d say the good Prince was about to regale them with a campfire horror story. “I don’t suppose there’s anything else you can really tell me about this planet, is there?”

  “I’m afraid not,” David said. Another bout of silence plagued the room, punctuated only by the sound of Joseph scraping what remained of the ice off his plate.

  “Well, then,” Duvurn said, standing, and mostly serious now, with only a hint of a smile. “I suppose that concludes business.” He clapped his hands and the door behind opened one last time, and servants with hovercarts again waddled out. “Please, everyone, tell me how you enjoyed your meal—I will tell my cook about your reactions.”

  There were praises ranging from the delicious to the wonderful, and the servants were politely thanked as they took away the trays. The one that took away Roan’s half-eaten duc asked if he wanted it bagged and sent to his room, but Roan shook his head. He hoped never to see that thing again.

  “It is late for me,” Duvurn said, and moved away from his table. It was the signal that they could all do the same. The guests stood and waited at attention for him to dismiss them all. Royal protocol, of course. “I will be retiring soon, but if there’s anything my household can do for any of you, just ask a servant. There are call buttons in each room. And feel free to take any unlocked room you like; they are all free. My wives are away for the week, so don’t worry about taking away space!

  “I realize you plan to depart in the morning, but remember that there will be breakfast here, in this room. I hope we can…catch up and share some stories then.”

  “Thank you, your Excellency,” Kel said, and she bowed slightly. Duvurn walked over to her and shook her hand, which she again awkwardly offered. Duvurn then bowed to David, who did the same, and then simply waved to the other guests. And then he turned and disappeared with his servants behind the door, hobbling as he walked.

  “I have a suggestion,” Roan said to Kel once the Prince was safely out of earshot. “Let’s get out of here as quickly as possible tomorrow.”

  “I think that may be for the best.”

  Chapter 22

  The first dream Roan had that night was about food.

  He’d been thinking about the subject ever since he walked away from dinner, stomach growling, and collapsed onto the mattress of the first open bedroom in sight. His unconscious mind had him keep uncovering food in his apartment, some of it in odd places: salmon with orange sauce under the covers, buttered toast in a desk drawer, an leg of iced dough resting on top of the sink. That duc had not sat well.

  The second dream he remembered involved him being back at the Euro resettlement camp as Dad was doing work on their Earth Refugee Agency-approved home. Standing on top of a ladder, Dad was hammering a nine by twelve onto a window on the eve of a typhoon’s landfall.

  “Hand me another nail, Nick,” he said. Thunder crashed very close by. Young Nick Roan handed a long, rusty spike to his father and Dad pounded away at it—again and again. It was much too loud.

  A sweaty hand against Roan’s naked skin jostled him awake, and his first thought was that it was Kel—until he sat up and stared in the face of a Bauxen. He yelled and backed up against his pillows.

  The Bauxen said something in his language, something that sounded like goda may. Its meaning was a mystery, but who it was directed to soon became clear: in the darkness, Roan saw Duvurn standing and resting his hands on his cane in front of his body. All joviality had seemingly vanished from the alien.

  “He’s fine,” Duvurn said, replying to his toady. “Mr. Roan, I need to talk with you.”

  There was firmness in his voice that implied it was not a request. And besides, it was always wise to agree with your host when he barges into your bedroom in the middle of the night. Roan looked for the time but his com was hidden away in his pants. Darkness still enveloped the sky outside the windows—what time did the sun rise on Bauxa?

  Both Bauxens backed away and Roan thought they exuded impatience, so he climbed out of bed. This took a little bit of effort, since Bauxens like to sleep on cushiony, voluminous water mattresses, built to accommodate any girth. When he finally jumped off the bed, he saw the Bauxens recoil slightly at seeing a naked human. Oh well, Roan was not ashamed. His clothes were piled on a table beside the bed, the same clothes he’d been wearing constantly for thirty days: a white shirt, a jumper, his pilot slacks. Every part of himself wanted to conduct a conversation with royalty while in the buff, but he always felt vulnerable while naked, so he put on his clothes.

  The Bauxens watched in silence. When he was done, Duvurn gestured that they leave the room.

  At the current hour, the palace was still. Even the fish inside the illuminated columns of the lobby appeared asleep, nestled at the bottom of their artificial world. They were creatures to envy: safe and warm in a universe that was only as big as a cylinder. For them, the origin of life was either a pet market or the breeding ground of some rich royal. Duvurn’s cane brought Roan out of this contemplation, echoing against the floor with each step from the Prince. So that was where his dream collected the sound of the nail pounding.

  “I need to talk with you about your visit,” Duvurn said. Between every few words came the clank his cane. “Can you explain to me, Mr. Roan, why everyone thinks I’m a fool?”

  Duvurn’s henchman showed no sign of hostility, nor of a sudden rush to draw a weapon. There was still a chance that this wasn’t going to be an execution.

  “What do you mean, your Excellency?”

  “There you go again!” The three passed through an archway and stepped onto an outdoor balcony. Below was a garden illuminated even at this hour, with luminescent moths circling the lights. The garden stretched to a wooded grove on the periphery of the palace, beyond which were the giant trees. “Cleverer people have tried to hide things from me. Cleverer Earthmen, even. And not one of them has ever kept their secrets. Do you want to know what happened to them?”
<
br />   Roan swallowed. It was only a few yards from the balcony to the garden below. If he landed on one of the hedges, he might be able to escape with only a broken leg.

  “They ended up humiliated!” Duvurn gave a short laugh, one that would surely wake up half the palace. Then he struck Roan on the back, causing Roan to grab onto the railing for support. It took him a few seconds to realize it was a playful strike.

  “Let me tell you a story. It’s about a very influential man on a very far-flung planet, who gets an encrypted message one day that some people from Earth are coming to visit. A Nyden among them says they have discovered a planet rich in phosphate and are contracted to scout it out. And it just so happens they are being chased by Kotarans—why, they have a captive Kotaran on board, even! And they are willing to offer a handsome sum in exchange for help—a discount with your Company, for starters. I bet you didn’t know your Nyden friend promised that, did you?”

  “No.”

  “Of course not. Well, let me tell you this. If the call hadn’t come on such short notice, maybe this Prince would’ve had more time to think things through, to mull over the situation. But he didn’t, so he said to David, a friend from years back—yes, you guys can come, lay low as they say in English. The Prince has friends among the Kotarans and they can’t hurt me. So please, you and your Earthmen friends be my guest. And then these Earth people arrive, and you know what they do? They won’t tell him anything about this supposed planet. And you know what that makes the Prince think of their story?”

  “That it’s fake?”

  “Correct! You on Earth have an expression: ‘bullshit.’ This is right, is it not?” Roan nodded. “I knew it was right. Frankly, I don’t like the word myself—cattle defecation? Disgusting. In continuation, no bunch of ill-kempt freighter jockeys decides to travel to some distant world of phosphate to be killed by a horde of Kotarans. If there were something of interest on this planet, Earth would know about it, and send a science expedition to scope it out, at the very least. In fact, I think they’d send the military to claim this planet for your species. So I can only assume that you are certainly not acting in any official capacity, and not for mining purposes. Don’t try and lie to me.”

  Roan didn’t see the point in lying. And didn’t have the energy, either. “You’re right, Prince. We’re not acting in any official capacity. And we’re not looking for minerals.”

  “Of course.” Duvurn leaned his cane against the balcony and then looked out at the garden. “This place was built by my third ancestor, Prince Tufi. He was a man of grandeur and vision, and some say too much opulence. Does it show? Look out to that garden there.” He pointed to some sapphire plants. “Do you know what they call this place? Or at least, what the equivalent phrase is in your language?”

  “No.”

  “It’s the ‘Garden of Life.’ Do you know why I mention this?”

  “No,” Roan said, though he had an idea of why he did.

  “Because I believe your mission to this unknown planet is related to life. Am I right, Nicholas Roan?”

  Roan said nothing, but knew that silence was only confirmation of Duvurn’s curiosity.

  “I knew it.” The Prince let out some burp-like giggles. He leaned in closer. “Have you found the Fifth Civilization? May the hills collapse if you have.” The Bauxen expression was gaining popularity on Earth—it was roughly similar to saying an “earth-shaking event.”

  “Maybe,” Roan admitted, not knowing if denying this information would cause him to have a spear jammed in his back. “If you want the truth, it’s that we have no idea what’s out there. The information we have is pretty foggy.”

  “None? Not even a clue? Wasn’t the information you got from David enough? Oh that’s right, it wasn’t from David, it was from your friend Aaron Vertulfo.” Roan cringed. This shady character speaking the name of his murdered friend was like a sacrilege, but Roan pushed back the anger coursing through him. He had too many questions of his own.

  “How the hell did you know about Aaron? Who told you?”

  “I’ve talked with people on Earth. Oh, don’t act surprised. Interstellar messages travel faster than any starship. You’re wanted for questioning on Earth in connection with Vertulfo’s death, and that concerns me. A royal should never harbor criminal elements. But I think your story is real, you being on the run from Kotarans. I believe you’re an innocent party. The only thing I’m unsure of is why you’re hiding information about this planet from me.

  “Before you arrived, I looked into this Vertulfo man. Vertulfo was an astrophysicist, an expert in interstellar phenomena. This was mainly comets and other debris, but also planets. He and the Nyden have been here before, on Bauxa, rummaging through our medical universities and looking through our DNA banks. They were quite interested in finding out biological information about my species.”

  This time it was Roan’s turn to smile. “I was wrong about you, Prince. And I thought you were just some pampered royal looking down from his silver tower at the unwashed masses.”

  “The masses are quite washed, I can tell you, and they are disgusting. But they are valuable sources of information. Nicholas, you should tell me the exact nature of your mission—or quest, I should say. It would be beneficial to you because your pursuers have already contacted me. They, too, have friends on Bauxa.”

  “The Kotarans? You talked with them?” Roan now felt like jumping off the balcony.

  “Through intermediaries, of course. Don’t worry; I haven’t given anything away. Your pursuers are anxious to buy you from me for a not inconsiderable price. I could possibly buy my own country for what they offered, but understand I’m a little hesitant.”

  “Oh? Do you think we can offer you more money?”

  “Nicholas, Nicholas,” Duvurn said, laughing, and giving Roan a fleshy punch on the shoulder. “Do you think I’m all about money? Actually, it is my main motivation, you see, because if you have found the Fifth Civilization I would very much like to be the first Bauxen ambassador to it. Trade links and all of that fine stuff—think of the possibilities! I’d be a hero for all three billion Bauxens. Understand that my name doesn’t stretch as far beyond that garden as it once did.”

  Roan watched the moths fluttering over the garden. Creatures unconcerned with galactic troubles. “And what’ll you give us when I tell you? More men?”

  “Of course! I will even come along, and naturally I will provide a few armed personnel to help you. The Kotarans won’t board you again—or at least, they won’t survive if they do.” He smacked his cane against the railing, knocking off a chunk of marble as if to illustrate his point.

  “I suppose you’ll turn us over to the Kotarans otherwise.”

  “No! I promise you I wouldn’t! But you won’t have my help in leaving Bauxa, or getting ending the Kotaran pursuit. One call to my people, and your ship’s repairs could be delayed a week. Good luck getting off this planet then. Furthermore, if the Kotarans find this mysterious planet, I can always try and get in on any trade deal with them. What will it be, Roan?”

  Roan tossed this around in his head. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “Since I already have voiced these suspicions, you have nothing to lose.”

  Whether it was bullies trying to get ration credits, or officials threatening to report yet another contaminated section on the Dunnock, Roan had dealt with such situations before. Someone always had an upper hand clenching blackmail. But never before did Roan’s own life seem in danger, as well as the lives of all his friends. And loved ones. So he recounted to the Prince what he’d learned from Aaron, what the Kotarans were after, and what the holographic information said. Roan was conscious the whole time of the pad in his jacket pocket, but made no move for it out of fear Duvurn would steal it and have him killed right then and there.

  “And where is this information?” Duvurn asked, when Roan finished.

  “Safely with one of us here,” Roan said.

  “With
your captain, the female?”

  “With someone.”

  Duvurn curved his amphibian smile into a wide, grotesque grin. “Perhaps she could tell me.”

  Roan cleared his throat. “Your Excellency, I wouldn’t try anything against her, if you know what’s best for you.”

  Duvurn let out a loud, stagnant breath. A sign of incredulity. “Why is that? Are you betrothed to this woman?”

  Roan opened his mouth to speak, not sure what exactly he’d say, but was cut off by an echoing, throaty laugh from Duvurn. Drool flew everywhere. “Don’t worry, Nicholas! The female Earthman is a small and weak creature. I don’t conduct myself with any women that aren’t Bauxen.”

  “You seemed to act differently toward her earlier.”

  “Flattery is an essential part of royalty. Besides, I am already doubly betrothed.” He smacked his cane against the balcony railing again. His flunky, who Roan forgot was there, walked back through the archway as if to signal the conversation was over.

  “Get some rest, Nicholas Roan. Or stay up all night, with both eyes open. In the morning, we will discuss how to proceed and try to leave Bauxa as soon as possible. I, for one, am excited to go! Breakfast will be when you can smell the food.” In a few minutes, the Prince was out of sight, his cane still echoing against the floor of the palace. Roan stayed on the balcony until he couldn’t hear it any longer.

  Roan did indeed stay up all night, with both eyes open. He heard the birds come alive, heard the morning roar of air traffic, finally learned that the sun rose around oh seven hundred. Something Duvurn said bothered him greatly. The Kotarans knew Duvurn was sheltering the Colobus crew. And they would not take no for an answer.

  Chapter 23

  An exceptionally short and diffident Bauxen led the three aliens through the security checkpoint, an archway that blinked and beeped when they passed through. The archway was supposed to detect the energy signatures of weapons and sound an alarm when it found them, but in this case the calls went unheeded by the guards on duty. All were busy watching a telenovel broadcast. The short Bauxen was the warden on duty, and in the guards’ opinion, if he had authorized something then it must be legitimate—or, if not, there was ample incentive for the Bauxens guards to look the other way.