The Rylerran Gateway

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The Rylerran Gateway Page 17

by Mark Ian Kendrick


  The holographic commbar attached to the Taskers’ forearms contained word symbols. They were able to position the symbols in such a way to create rudimentary sentences, much like what apes used over a millennia ago to communicate with their captors. All of the higher primates had long ago disappeared from Earth’s biosphere, but the methods used for Terran-ape communication still came in handy, even though the subject of that communication method was a totally alien species.

  The Terran encounter with Taskers became the foundation for how to deal with Telkans. Telkan physiology was much more sophisticated. Their brains were as developed as Terran brains. After all, they had space travel, speech and held many worlds of their own. Although not much was known about the worlds the Telkans inhabited, recon had determined there were colonies on at least eighteen planets. Pelinex provided two-way communications between Telkans and Terrans. It’s just that Telkans learned Empire Spanish, not the other way around.

  “Tasker Ebit, you’re sure what you saw is a Terran?” Lieutenant Navar asked.

  Tasker Ebit bobbed his head left to right, which was his best attempt to mimic a human nod.

  “And you say he may be damaged, uh, hurt?”

  Again the bobbing.

  “I’ll get the doctor just in case,” Commander Selaye told Lieutenant Navar.

  Dr. Doratzo Ranarde, captain by rank, was the chief medical officer aboard the Cortés Libre. The team he tended to was small, but they had had their share of mishaps already. Mostly accidents, he admitted, yet at least he was able to use some of his skills. He volunteered for this mission because of his knowledge of the three T’s: Terran, Tasker and Telkan. He was looking forward to interrogating any Telkan they might manage to capture. He hoped the soldats would show restraint and not kill each and every one of them first. He was well aware of the blood sport which seemed to accompany most raids nowadays.

  Commander Selaye entered the infirmary and spoke to the doctor at length about what Tasker Ebit had ‘told’ him, since the entire conversation had been through the symbol board. The doctor was eager to get out of the ship and breathe in some much-needed fresh air anyway.

  Less than twenty minutes after Tasker Ebit’s discovery of Naylon on the sandbar, he was leading the three Terrans with him back to that location. When they arrived, Naylon was still fast asleep. He was sure the men standing over him when he was woken up were pirates. What the other thing was he had no idea, but it scared the crap out of him.

  “Uh! W-what in thunder?” He quickly reached for his shirt, which was still lying stretched across the fallen log. It served its purpose of being a psychological barrier to the gun-wielding humans in front of him. It served as no barrier to the fact that an alien was with them. At least the shirt was dry now.

  This person was indeed a Terran, Selaye noted. “Qen ere, i com llegast’qui,” he asked. He was quite informal with his speech. Whoever this person was, the commander didn’t need to address him in the honorific.

  Naylon was puzzled beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. Here were humans, one speaking a language he had never heard, while standing behind them was a thoroughly bizarre-looking alien creature. The humans appeared to not know the alien was accompanying them.

  Naylon’s eyes told them everything. He pointed at the Tasker and tried to crawl away. The one who had spoken, who was also the taller of the three, pointed a weapon at him as he moved. Naylon stopped and pointed at Tasker Ebit. “Th-there’s an alien behind you!”

  The doctor and commander looked at each other. What did this stranger say? “Comtést-me!” demanded Selaye.

  Navar stood a meter behind the doctor and the commander on purpose, with his weapon at the ready.

  Again with the strange language, thought Naylon. Are they dense? There’s an alien standing behind them! That’s when Naylon realized something odd was going on here. More odd than everything that had transpired since he woke up this morning. The alien was with them! In fact, it looked like the alien had some sort of photronic display attached to its forearm. But the creature wasn’t like any of the alien bodies he’d briefly examined in the cavern. Okay, it had been a few hours back, and he had been thoroughly traumatized by having slid off the side of the mountain and unceremoniously dumped into the river, but he was sure that the shape of the alien’s body he’d examined, even in the pitch-blackness of the cave, wasn’t anything like the one standing in front of him.

  “W-would you guys tell me what in thunder is going on here?” Naylon implored them.

  The doctor and the commander again looked at each other. This time the commander realized their captive Terran wasn’t speaking Empire Spanish. In fact, he’d never heard the language this person was speaking, and he spoke three languages himself.

  “Ve con sotro,” Selaye told Naylon. He pointed to Naylon’s things and motioned for him to don his shirt. While he did so, Renarde spoke with Selaye. “I’m not familiar with that language.”

  “He’s trying to pull a fast one,” Selaye replied. With that, he eyed Naylon. He was waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. Perhaps the man hadn’t understood him after all.

  Naylon donned the shirt and took his jacket in hand. Lieutenant Navar had already taken Naylon’s backpack and looked through it. He had determined there were no weapons in it but handed it to Tasker Ebit anyway. They led Naylon back toward the ship with Navar in the rear with his weapon drawn on him. Tasker Ebit stayed behind them all, as was protocol. Naylon looked back every once in a while, wondering if the alien was a guard or something.

  “Naylon,” he said to Navar, pointing to himself. “Naylon,” he said again to the two men in front. These people didn’t speak Lingua, he realized. How that was possible was beyond him. To his knowledge, there wasn’t a soul on any of Inhab that didn’t speak at least some Lingua. But there was more. No world in known space harbored an alien species. None had ever been discovered. As far as humanity knew, they were entirely alone in the Orion Arm of the galaxy. Yet, within a day he’d personally seen at least two species unknown to humans. Unbelievable.

  The two men ahead of him didn’t say a word to Naylon but rather talked between themselves. “I guess his name is Naylon,” the commander offered.

  “What kind of name is that?” the doctor asked.

  “It’s not one I’ve ever heard before.”

  Naylon listened to the conversation, unable to follow it at all. He heard his name mentioned so he was sure he had gotten through to them. So, why weren’t they responding to him?

  Soon enough they arrived at a clearing. The taller man, the one who was obviously in charge, spoke something to a communications device on his wrist. Immediately, it was as if the very air opened up to reveal the interior of a ship as a door opened at ground level.

  Thunder! Naylon thought. A cloaked ship. No such thing exists, but-but I’m sure I’m looking at one right in front of me. Such technology had been science fiction for hundreds of years. Small objects could be hidden using portable cloaking technology, including people. But as far as he knew, nothing as massive as an entire ship could be cloaked.

  Naylon was taken inside through an obvious airlock, then led to the end of a corridor, which opened to a larger room. It appeared to be a mess hall of some sort. He was pointed to a bench where he sat down. Even the mess hall made this the most sophisticated looking spacecraft interior he’d ever seen. The shuttle they’d flown in to Rylerra was nothing compared to this.

  The man in charge finally decided to tell him his name. “Comdant Selaye,” was all he would say as he pointed to himself. Well, that was a start.

  Naylon watched as gesticulating and a long discussion took place in front of him. Finally, the man who seemed to Naylon to be a physician was ordered to leave. He returned with a young female in full military uniform. She introduced herself to him as soldat Daníl Ocio.

  Soldat, Naylon thought. Somehow, I’ve stumbled onto a secret military organization. Since when did the pirates become a full-fledged mil
itary organization? And why doesn’t anyone speak Lingua?

  Commander Selaye asked Daníl to ask Naylon something. She cleared her throat.

  “English speak?” she asked with a thick accent.

  “English?” Naylon asked back. He wasn’t prepared for the unusual way the question was asked.

  “Yes, English?” she asked.

  English was the old word used centuries ago. All languages changed and morphed over time. English had been no different. No one had used the word English for almost half a millennium. “No, Lingua. Ever heard of it? Lingua,” Naylon told her.

  There was much conversation between the female soldier named Ocio and the older man after that, none of which Naylon was able to follow. Finally, he was taken to a room off the mess hall, ushered into it, and the door was locked. He looked around. It was a storage room. There was nothing to sit on except the floor. There were food containers all around him. At least he wouldn’t go hungry.

  “I have no idea where he came from, Captain. It was the doctor who suspected the man spoke something similar to English. Possibly a dialect of it,” Selaye said as he took a seat in front of the captain’s desk.

  The captain frowned. “How did he know that?”

  “He activated some sort of computing device the man had and looked through some of the documents. Ocio was able to identify a few word of the language on the documents or we wouldn’t have been able to confirm that.”

  The Captain mulled over their surprise visitor. His effects had been thoroughly examined. Whoever this man was, he was of little or no threat since he had no weapons on him. In fact, the man seemed completely surprised to see them. Perhaps he was no spy as his commander had suspected. As far as they could tell the man had either swam the river or had fallen in to it and crawled onto the sandbar to dry off. Everything the man had was damp.

  “He says his name is Naylon but that’s all we could get out of him,” the commander said. “His effects don’t explain a thing. Sir, I don’t think he speaks any Empire Spanish.” He slid Naylon’s vidPAD toward the captain.

  “That’s impossible.” The captain had never met anyone who didn’t speak at least some Empire Spanish. He activated his desktop screen and looked through a few maps. “According to this there are barely three million people who speak English. There have never been enough speakers for it to develop a dialect. In fact, this says it’s a dying language.” He leaned back. “It’s entirely possible an English speaker has never been in space.”

  The commander shook his head. “It’s all moot, sir. The doctor has a solution to our mystery.”

  “How so?”

  “How do we interrogate the Telkans?”

  “Of course,” the Captain said as he nodded his head. “Of course.”

  Chapter 19

  Tann was completely terrified. This was literally the first time in his life he’d ever been completely alone in every sense of the word. It didn’t seem possible everyone could just have disappeared, including the dead aliens. But it had happened. And now, with not a shred of evidence that they had taken shelter in the cavern, his only alternative was to attempt to pursue Naylon. But how to do that was proving to be nearly impossible. There were no neat paths near the river for him to follow. Rocks and boulders, rises and vegetation prevented him from simply following the riverbank. Very quickly, despite the slightly lower gravity, he was becoming winded. Twice, he had to stop and catch his breath when he felt himself hyperventilating from a combination of fright and exertion.

  Finally, breathing heavily, he stopped. He leaned forward, resting his palms on his knees. “There are no wild animals here. The pirates haven’t returned. You’re going to be okay,” he said out loud only to reassure himself. Even as he did so, tears again sprang from his eyes. Still leaning forward, he wiped them away then looked over to his left where the river was rushing. A tall rise of rocks was directly in front of him. He repositioned his pack straps and heard his canteen sloshing inside. He should have filled it completely up before they went exploring, he realized. Too late now.

  He’d have to skirt the rocks by going to the right and around to get back to the water’s edge. That took several minutes. He couldn’t hear anything the entire time he was attempting to get around the rocky rise. No sound from the rushing river. Only the wind in his ears as he ran. Otherwise, it was eerily quiet.

  Slowly but surely, the intensity of the situation started to lessen. He felt himself becoming much more focused on the task at hand and found himself thinking, ‘What would my brother do?’ ‘How would Darreth handle himself?’ Somehow, it made him feel a lot more courageous.

  Completely around the rise now, he was finally able to follow the river, although from a much higher level than right at the water’s edge. That gave him an advantage he didn’t have before: he could see much further. He stopped and scanned both banks as far as he could see. He yelled out Naylon’s name over and over. Nothing. He’d have to go much further downstream, he realized. At least the vegetation was thinner right here, and much lower. The bushes very nearly hugged the ground and were much more circular in shape. That made for many open spaces where he could see the ground more easily. The rise started sloping downward. Tann trotted through the low bushes, finding himself back near the river bank. Ten minutes later, after having run the entire way, the river took a bend and widened considerably. He stopped again to catch his breath and pulled out his canteen. After taking several gulps, he slowly scanned both banks. There, on the right, hundreds of meters further on was a wide sandy bank. It appeared to be the only open area on either side. He took a course through the underbrush, which had become taller this close to the bank, and made his way toward it.

  “Lieutenant,” Captain Pacudas said to Navar.

  “Sir.”

  “Send a team to see if there are other Terrans out there.”

  “Sir, our scans didn’t show even one Terran biosign before we landed.”

  “The scans were wrong, weren’t they?”

  The captain treated his crew with respect, but he was still a hard taskmaster. The lieutenant knew this and said simply, “Yes sir.”

  Soldats Marco Zapante, Daníl Ocio and Tiso Urret quietly left the safety of their cloaked ship and headed toward the bank. They used the cover of the low brush to stay out of sight as much as possible. Soldat Zapante had a handheld scanner in front of him and activated a diagnostic just to be sure it was functioning properly. It would take another three minutes for it to complete the diagnostic test before it was ready to use. Zapante knew the ship’s survey of the area before they landed had determined they were completely alone. Apparently, their survey was flawed. That was highly unusual since their sensors were the best the Empire could provide, and were specifically tuned to not only Terran but to Telkan life signs. How this Naylon person was missed was a complete mystery. Thus, he paid particular attention to the diagnostic.

  Soldat Urret went a dozen meters downstream, used the binoculars to scan the far bank, then lowered them so he could simply watch the water as it rushed downstream several meters away.

  Ocio was several meters upstream, almost at the water’s edge. She knelt down to check her weapon. Her finger was next to the trigger instead of over the trigger guard, as trained, while she examined the power pack. Moving at a pretty fast clip, Tann came out of nowhere. He very nearly stumbled over her. His sudden appearance startled her. In her haste to pull her weapon up, she accidentally pressed the trigger. Ocio instantly rose to a standing position and pressed her comm badge. “Urret, Zapante, get over here. I just shot a Terran.”

  Tann had landed on the ground face down. Daníl had already pulled him over onto his back and checked his pulse. Whew, she thought. He was alive. Both of her comrades were with her in seconds.

  “It’s a teenager!” Urret said in surprise. “What is a Terran teen doing on this world?”

  “Why did you shoot him?” Zapante asked.

  “It was an accident,” Ocio told him angril
y. “Luckily, my weapon was on a low stun setting. The blast didn’t hit him head on either.” She called the ship. “Captain Renarde, we’ve got an emergency. We just found another Terran. A teen. I accidentally stunned him.”

  “Stunned him?”

  The frustration was obvious in her voice. “Accidentally!”

  “Get him to the infirmary.”

  Zapante checked for any obvious weapons in Tann’s jacket pockets and pants, then unzipped the main compartment of Tann’s pack. He discovered nothing that could be construed as weaponry. He unzipped the smaller compartments and found nothing threatening there either.

  Ocio was supremely angry with herself for not paying better attention, especially while in the field. It went against all of her training, but she certainly didn’t expect someone to burst through the underbrush seconds after she had gotten into position. In fact, she wondered if she needed a hearing test.

  Another two minutes went by before they were able to get him in the ship and onto the bed. The doctor removed Tann’s jacket, his shirt, then his t-shirt, and set them aside. He placed the scanner that was attached to the ceiling over his bare chest and checked for any obvious injuries. Finding none other than the shock to his body from the low level stun, he felt satisfied the boy was going to be all right in an hour or so.

  While the doctor examined Tann, Urret took that time to look at the tags on Tann’s clothing. None of what he read was recognizable.

  “Hey, Ocio, know what this means?”

  None of it was in Empire Spanish, but she guessed it was the same language as Naylon spoke. “I don’t read the language. I just recognized a few words.”

  “Well, look anyway.”

  She tried to make out the fifteen words on the inner lining of the jacket but was unable to make out a single one. Shaking her head, she sounded quite exasperated. “Doesn’t this ship have a language database?”

  He spoke into his comm badge. “Shipcomp, this is Urret.”

 

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