Ship's Log

by Lawrence P White

  She smiled wistfully. “I wish I could. I’ve given the issue more thought than you know. I’m convinced that, if given the opportunity, my people would grow to like you as much as I do. Something you can’t know because you don’t know us well enough is that in some areas your perceptiveness could guide us.”

  “Me guide you?” he asked with lifted eyebrows.

  “You’re a conundrum, did you know?” she asked with a thoughtful expression.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “To us, basic survival on Earth qualifies everyone here as a warrior. You’re no exception, though Nancy tells me that you’re more capable than most. But though you’re an expert, you don’t want to fight. Where did that come from?”

  “I’ve seen too much killing . . . and worse,” he said. “But you need to know that I will fight if necessary.”

  She nodded. “It’s the definition of ‘necessary’ that separates us. Still, you bring a perspective to things that our leaders should hear.”

  “So, take me to your leaders,” he said with a smile.

  “I hope the day comes when I can. I’m not concerned with breaking the rules—I’ve broken so many that it no longer matters—but I do not give myself high odds of reaching my base.”

  His gaze narrowed at those words. “I’ve been wondering,” he said. “You’re talking about the Harbok.”

  She nodded. “I am. I have no way of knowing the status of their ships. Still, I believe my chances are better now than if I wait.”

  “Let me offer you an alternative. If your people really need the stuff in that bag, your job is to guarantee they get it. Taking chances is not a guarantee. It might be better to wait a year or two than lose it. Even if the Harbok find and destroy your ship, your people could sneak in with another one when things calm down.”

  She looked away from him as she contemplated. When she returned her gaze to him, she said, “I wish that were the case, but it is not. The Harbok can stop us from returning whenever they choose.”

  “Then take me with you. If they find us, I can pull the trigger for you.”

  She smiled and reached a hand out to him. When he took it, she said, “Thank you. You mean well, but there’s no trigger to pull. My ship is unarmed.”

  His jaw dropped, and he released her hand. “They sent you in an unarmed ship?” he asked incredulously.

  She shook her head and said, “Greg, an armed ship would not make a difference. We have never won an engagement with the Harbok. Jarl’s ship was armed, but only because it was his personal ship.”

  Angrily, he said, “I can’t accept that reasoning. It sounds to me like your leaders are giving up too easily.”

  “Hence the need for another perspective. Your perspective,” she said. “I will do my best to return for you. I would very much like to be the one to show you my home world, but not until I’m healed.” She looked him in the eyes and added, “Officially and unofficially.”

  He blinked repeatedly as her words sunk in. “I’d like that,” he said after bringing his thoughts under control. “Despite the risk, I’m still willing to go with you if you’ll let me.”

  She shook her head. “No, Greg. I will not take you.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, silently telegraphing feelings and even hopes. The more he discovered about this woman, the more he found himself attracted to her. Then he remembered—she was an alien. How could he have forgotten?

  He looked away to check on the plane and to make certain they were on course, but his mind was really on her. He wanted to go with her, not just because he wanted a ride on a spaceship. He wanted to spend more time with her, get to know her better. She had said no, but he was not ready to give up. He would not press, not yet, but he would jump on the slightest opportunity should one arise.

  He flew along in silence for a while enjoying the warm glow she had given him. When he next checked, she had fallen asleep. Good for her!

  * * * * *

  The landing at his first fuel stop was a little hard, but that was normal on the small retractable wheels in his floats. The ground attendant never even knew Arlynn was in the plane, nor did she stir. They departed on their last leg of the day, and he pushed hard to get to their destination before dark. He was pleased that she could sleep. It seemed that each time she awoke, she was an order of magnitude stronger.

  The terrain changed as he flew west, becoming vast reaches of wheat fields with few defining features. The terrain rose gradually as he approached the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. Lakes were less abundant, but rivers grew larger and more well-defined. His route was over sparsely populated areas, and under normal circumstances he would have preferred more signs of civilization, but on this flight, he was happy to keep as far as he could from inquiring eyes.

  The sun was just touching the horizon when he landed in Edmonton, Alberta. The parking ramp was almost deserted. Arlynn was still asleep as an old man completed the refueling. He offered to drive them to a hotel in his pickup truck and Greg accepted, then he had to explain about Arlynn.

  “She’s sleeping in the plane, still recovering from her accident.”

  “I see plenty of that up here. Want a hand getting her down?”

  “Let me try by myself first.” He climbed up into the plane and spoke softly to Arlynn, but he ended up having to shake her awake. She opened her eyes, confused.

  “Shhh,” he hissed. “We’re here. It’s time to get up.” He was afraid she would start babbling in some alien language, and the attendant was standing just below, but she came through for him. They managed to get her down without help.

  “Say, that looks pretty nasty there, ma’am," the old man noted, peering at the burns on her neck. “Sure you ought to be out of the hospital?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she replied sweetly. “I just could not stand another day in that place.”

  “I understand that, but don’t they use bandages anymore?”

  Greg’s heart skipped a beat. He had become so accustomed to the sight of her burns that he hardly noticed them anymore.

  “Oh, this is the latest thing,” she announced in a chipper tone. “See, it’s a clear bandage that they sprayed on. It lets the skin breathe naturally without all those ointments and greatly speeds up the healing process.”

  “I guess I do see,” the man replied with an interested look. “That must be pretty new stuff. Never heard of it before.”

  Greg settled her into the back of the truck, and they drove slowly to the motel. The old man waited while Greg registered, then he drove them down the long row to their unit.

  “What time are you heading out, Mr. Hamilton?”

  “As close to sunup as I can.”

  “That’s a little early for me. If you want to wait until seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay, it’s a deal.” They shook hands and the man drove off.

  Arlynn stood patiently outside the room while Greg opened the door. He escorted her in and was turning to get their bags when she called urgently, “Greg!” As he turned back, she fell into his arms, almost knocking him over. She slowly collapsed until, without thinking, he held her under her injured arm. She screamed, then they both fell to the floor.

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” he yelled. Then with a softer, concerned tone, he asked, “Hey, can you hear me?”

  She had fallen on her injured side and could barely breathe let alone speak. He lifted her to a bed and stretched her out on her stomach, then he sat helplessly beside her.

  She eventually squeezed his hand for attention. She could see the concern in his eyes and responded to it. “Greg, hold me, please. I’m scared.”

  “Sure. What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know,” she said into his shoulder. “I’ve never been sick before, but I think this must be what it’s like.”

  “Sick! You said you couldn’t get sick.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe you’ve j
ust overdone it,” he said as he pulled her hair back from her face. “You’re weak from the healing process, and look at yourself! You’re walking around, talking up a storm, missing your rest, playing games with my mind . . . you’re probably just exhausted.”

  “I just woke up. I can hardly be exhausted, but you might be right. I’m ready to sleep again. Thank you for being here.”

  He talked her into drinking a glass of water before going back to sleep. She wasn’t interested in food. Rather than move her under her covers, he pulled the blanket and spread from his own bed and placed them loosely over her. She rewarded him with her crooked smile, then she drifted off to sleep.

  He was tired himself. A long day of flying was enough all by itself, but added to the stress of the last few days, it was more than enough. He looked forward to a good night’s sleep in a real bed. After a quick shower, he curled up in his sheets and passed out.

  * * * * *

  His body’s natural alarm woke him the following morning. Disoriented at first, he got his bearings, then rolled over and found Arlynn watching him from her bed. “Good morning!” he said cheerfully. “Feeling better?”

  “Good morning to you, Greg Hamilton,” she replied. “We’ll discuss my health when you are fully awake.”

  “Uh . . . I’m awake,” he said yawning, then blinking. “You actually seem to be glowing,” he complimented her.

  “Come here, please,” she said, strangely serious.

  “Uh . . . can I get dressed first?”

  “Of course. Please excuse me. Do you wish me to turn away?”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” he said thinking of her burns. But blushing, he said, “You could close your eyes.”

  A minute later he sat on the edge of her bed, and she opened her eyes. “If you want to shave,” she said, “do so now. Then we’ll talk.”

  She’s awfully serious he thought, watching her in the mirror while he got out his toothbrush. He decided he could skip shaving for another day. “I slept great,” he said trying to lighten things up a little. “How about you? Are you feeling better than last night?”

  “No. In fact, I’m in trouble,” she replied watching his eyes in the mirror.

  He swung around with a toothbrush in one hand and a tube of toothpaste in the other. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Just finish, then we’ll talk,” she insisted.

  He was done and sitting at her side in record time. “Arlynn, let’s start over,” he said. “Good morning! How are you today?”

  Her crooked smile appeared hesitantly and took his hand in one of her own. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but you have to get serious now. We have a lot to do in a short time.” She put the palm of his hand to her cheek. It was hot! She saw the surprise on his face and said, “Yes, my color is good this morning, is it not?”

  “You’re sick!” he blurted out.

  She nodded. “I recognize the symptoms. I have a fever for the first time in my life. Do you appreciate the significance of this?”

  “Well, I can think of lots of things, but what are you getting at?”

  “Greg,” she explained patiently, “I cannot get sick from germs on your world. I am completely protected here.”

  “Obviously not, Arlynn. Maybe your defense mechanism is down because of your burns. Infection is common with burn victims. In fact,” he added, looking more worried than he had been, “it’s real serious for burn victims.”

  “You still don’t understand. I cannot get sick from an Earth microorganism, nor from one of my own. I am protected. I must be sick from something else. I think I must have picked up something from the Harbok while I was in their base.”

  His face lost all expression as her logic fell into place. She gave him a little time to take it in, then she shook him back to the present.

  “Do you have any medicine for this?” he asked.

  “No, and yes.” she responded. “I do not have medicine for Harbok microorganisms, nor do my people. That is not our problem. Someone will take care of that later. What I’ve done, after considering all options, is to take a special medicine that will allow me to function despite my illness. Do you understand?”

  His gaze narrowed in suspicion as the import of her words settled in. “So far,” he responded guardedly.

  “Good. My body will pay a price for this.”

  “Wait a minute. Let me clarify something,” he said as his gaze narrowed further. “You’ve already exercised this option, is that correct? You have already taken this medicine?” When she nodded her head, he looked away angrily. “And just what is the price?” he demanded.

  She lifted a hand back to his cheek in a caress. “Greg,” she said softly, “you must put emotion behind for a little while. If you value my life, you will do this for me.” She looked him in the eyes until she found what she wanted. “Good. You’re ready to continue?”

  Not trusting his voice, he nodded instead.

  “The price I will pay,” she said carefully, taking both of his hands in her own and looking him directly in the eyes, “is that in approximately twelve hours my body will cease to function.”

  “Cease to function,” he repeated blankly. “You mean . . . die?” he yelled with sudden comprehension. “What kind of medicine is that?” he asked, jumping up from the bed to glare down at her. Their gazes locked for a time, then he turned away.

  “Greg, listen to me! Please!” she called. “I need your help. My clock is ticking.”

  That got his attention. He pulled the desk chair out and straddled it. “Okay, I’m listening,” he said with a cutting voice.

  “In about six hours, sooner if possible, I will take another medicine. When I do, I will go into what we call cold sleep. During cold sleep, my body temperature will drop, I will lose consciousness, and the factory that is my body will nearly shut down. I can remain in that state for approximately one month. Greg, these procedures are only used in an emergency. Once I’ve gone into cold sleep, I cannot be revived without medical assistance.”

  He got up and paced angrily for a few steps, then he turned back to her. “You’re going to program your ship, hit the ’go’ button, then sleep the rest of the way?”

  “I can, but I would rather not.”

  “Can you call for help?”

  “I’m calling right now for the only help available to me.”

  “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

  “Will you help?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “But . . . just like that? Surely you have concerns? Questions?”

  “Lots of them, but I told you I wanted a ride on your ship. I’m not pleased with what you’ve done to yourself, but since it’s already done, there’s nothing I can do about it. If it’s my ticket onto your ship, so be it.”

  “We will be gone for a long time. Do you need to notify someone? Your family or your work? You must be careful what you say to them.”

  “Nancy and Jim are my only family. They’ll figure out what’s happened soon enough and come after the plane. In fact, Jim and I already discussed what to do if I found a way to go with you. I only wish the circumstances were different. Are you going to die on me after all we’ve been through?”

  “Not if we hurry. My chances are good if we can reach my baseship. I, too, am sorry about our circumstances. I was looking forward to taking you on a ride. Perhaps we’ll still have that opportunity, but I’m afraid your first trip is going to be with me as cargo. You’re going to be Captain of our ship on your very first trip.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Okay, you’ve obviously been thinking about this for a while. What’s your plan?”

  “We’ll go to the airport at seven o’clock. You will fly us to the lake, which takes one hour, correct?”

  “Better make it at least an hour and a half, possibly a little more by the time we get you loaded into the plane, check out the plane, taxi out to the runway, then look the lake over briefly before landing. We shoul
d be at the lake and out of the plane by nine o’clock."

  She bit her lip and looked away. “Precious minutes are slipping away. I will remain awake longer if necessary.” She looked back to him. “My ship is hiding in the lake, as was Jarl’s. I’ll call it up before we land, so it will be waiting. Now, Greg, this is the difficult part. The reason I want you along on the trip is two-fold, at least officially.” She smiled her lopsided grin as she stared into his eyes, then continued. “There is always a remote possibility that something will go wrong with the ship on the way. These ships are extremely reliable, and it is unlikely, but it’s best to be prepared. You would at least be able to follow instructions received over the communications equipment. Second, there is a slight chance that we’ll be discovered by the Harbok. There’s not much you can do in that event, but there is a little. The computers on board the ship can deal with almost everything except the Harbok.

  “We’ll do everything we can to avoid detection,” she continued, “including working out an energy-efficient flight plan that reflects very little energy. The trip will take longer this way, but it will be more difficult for the Harbok to find us. I’ve made the trip many times in this manner without incident, but right now, because of my attack on their base, they are almost certainly exercising greater vigilance. Even so, the odds are reasonable or I would not ask for your help.”

  When he stared at her in silence, she added, “You realize that my ship does not fly at all like your float plane?”

  “I certainly hope not. I’m a pretty good pilot. Does that make any difference?”

  “Probably not. We must be honest about this.”

  He frowned, then he frowned deeper and moved to her bed. He sat beside her and took one of her hands. “Can you teach me what I need to know in the next five or six hours?”

  “I will do the best that I can,” she said softly, reaching that hand up to his cheek. “We’re in this together, Greg. I’m sorry it’s happening this way, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I,” he said, not certain whether he should be frowning or grinning. “it’s five ’till seven. You can start briefing me as soon as we’re airborne.”