Tann’s mind was in overdrive. Naturally occurring starlanes? If that were the case, how was it possible he had never heard of such a thing? “Where are they?” he asked.
“None of us have the coordinates for the ones in this system, of course. But it’s very obvious where some of them are due to the neutronic mines and sensor grids at their mouths.”
Naylon looked at Tann. This was certainly a revelation. As far as Naylon knew the main difference between this dimension and their own was that here history took a turn on Earth long ago. Yet, there were other subtle differences as well. Like the fact that humans had encountered an alien species. And they were at war with each other. Rylerra was warmer in this dimension than in their own. There was another other semi-sentient species called Taskers being used as laborers. He wondered if these naturally occurring conduits that folded spacetime existed in his own dimension. If they did, wouldn’t the Consortium have exploited them for their own end? It was worth finding out more. He could only hope they did in fact exist in his dimension. “You use these conduits used to travel between stars?” Naylon asked Rogerto.
“As do the Telkans.”
“How do you, er, know where they’re located? The ones that aren’t mined.”
“All ships have a standard conduit detection system. The conduits emit a discernable stream of vunian radiation. All we have to do is line up in the beam and blast them at the precise point with the can opener. They’re all stable and follow the foldlines of spacetime.”
“Can opener? What’s vunian radiation?” Tann asked.
Sedeto answered for him. “I was chief navigator aboard our vessel. I can tell you about it later. Now, we eat.”
Rogerto told Naylon and Tann that the interior lights were extinguished shortly after twilight every night. The lights had just been doused. Now only red lights glowed throughout the enclosure, making ominous looking shadows. Naylon and Tann had already selected one of the empty sleeping chambers to bed down in. Rogerto’s men stayed together in one of the other chambers, while Rogerto occupied one by himself.
Tann sat on Naylon’s cot next to him, speaking Lingua in low tones. The Telkans wouldn’t have a clue what was being said if they were being recorded. Nor did they want the other prisoners to know what they were saying.
“Spacetime conduits!” Tann said. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”
“Never. I’m sure even Darreth has never heard of such a thing either,” Naylon told him.
“Did you hear Sedeto laugh when I described how we use plasma engines to wrinkle wedges of spacetime?” Tann asked.
“That’s because he couldn’t believe how much energy we expend doing so. They use nothing more than a sublight engine to get to the mouth of one of those conduits, then follow the beam of energy it emits. We have to find out how they do it. That is, if the things exist in our dimension,” Naylon said.
“Why?”
“Do you have any idea how many credits we’d make if we brought that kind of tech back? Just the fuel savings alone would be worth a fortune. I can already see what this is going to do for our planet.”
“Back? You think we’re getting out of here?” Tann was desperately holding back sheer terror. Naylon could tell from Tann’s trembling voice.
Naylon slid his hand down Tann’s back, then held him closely in a tight hug. “We have to. Otherwise, we’re dead.” Naylon knew he shouldn’t have used that particular phrase. In the dim red light, Naylon could see the glint in Tann’s eyes from tears. “Don’t agit. We’ll get out of here. I promise,” Naylon said firmly as he wiped one off Tann’s cheek.
Sedeto had been very careful. He had taken off his slippers before he snuck over toward the Naylon and Tann’s sleeping chamber. He stopped just outside the alcove opening, his back against the wall, and listened. The large common area could echo sounds very easily if he wasn’t completely quiet. Rogerto had decided there was something odd about the two new prisoners. He was satisfied they were Terran, but they had virtually no knowledge of the Empire, its political or military structure, nor how people traversed the stars. The bizarre description the younger one had given them about how their ship essentially was stationary and they made spacetime move instead, was utterly preposterous. That alone made him suspicious. He was almost convinced they were plants by the Telkans in an attempt to pry more information out of them. Sedeto was aware that the Telkans were not the best interrogators. Their culture deplored torture and they had an almost pathological distaste for the use of force. But they had been quite successful in keeping he and his crewmates isolated and contained. Telkan technological superiority was to be commended, he had thought on several occasions, although it had also successfully prevented any of them from escaping. But this new turn of events may be exactly what they needed to find some leverage. He was sure Naylon and his young companion were being used to keep them off-guard. He wasn’t sure how, but he was going to find out. Sedeto had volunteered to sneak up on the two new prisoners and listen. Anything they said to each other might be helpful to them all.
Sedeto stood as still as he could. The two new prisoners were speaking to each other loud enough for him to hear everything, yet he couldn’t discern a single word either was saying. None of it made any sense until he heard Tann say his name. That was the only understandable word.
Sedeto was from Ateli, one of the closest worlds to Earth. The culture on Ateli was greatly mixed. The inhabitants not only spoke Empire Spanish but two other Empire languages. He spoke one of them fluently, and had a relatively good command of the other one. But this language bested his ear. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t make out anything they were saying. Who are these people, he wondered.
The next morning the lights rose slowly until they were fully illuminated. Rogerto stood at their door and woke them.
“The guards will be here for an inspection after breakfast. I recommend you shower and shave before they get here.” He left abruptly.
Naylon and Tann both shed their thin outfits and stepped into the shower. Each sleeping chamber had its own shower with four individual heads. Tann took one opposite Naylon. On the wall was a dispenser for something that seemed to be soap, although it didn’t lather and had no smell. An actual water shower. Naylon hadn’t been in one of those for quite a while. It seemed so… primitive. Towels and shaving equipment had been provided, too. Naylon wasn’t sure whether he was in a prison or a hotel.
The men had already assembled at the breakfast table after choosing items from the dispenser. Tann and Naylon both again sniffed at each unidentifiable item, chose several, then returned to the table with them.
“Sleep well?” Rogerto asked.
“I don’t think I moved the entire night,” Naylon replied.
“Get used to it. We think the food has drugs in it,” Rogerto confided.
After listening to Sedeto’s report last night, Rogerto decided further attempts to listen to Naylon and Tann would be useless, as they would probably use the same incomprehensible language. But they would keep up the casual questioning, especially of the young one. He seemed the most vulnerable of the two and more apt to let something of value slip.
Moments after they had finished their meal they heard a voice overhead in Empire Spanish say, ‘Stand by for inspection’.
“This is where we stand outside our rooms,” Nolo told them. “It’ll be over in a few minutes.”
The main door opened and four Telkans entered the common area wearing full uniforms, and with weapons drawn. They scattered and inspected the rooms. The Telkans then scanned each man in turn with some sort of device. It was impossible for Naylon to discern what they were doing.
The door the Telkans came in was still open. Naylon wondered why no one tried to make a run for it. Maybe they had before. He and Tann hadn’t been there long enough for him to establish that. Perhaps there was some sort of energy barrier across it. Regardless, there was no way to escape down the corridor. There were two Telkans at the far
end standing against another set of doors, looking their way, along with another single one who was halfway down the corridor. That one was coming toward them.
As the Telkan drew nearer, Naylon saw he was in full uniform as well. The closer he got the more Naylon was sure he recognized him. When the alien entered their main chamber, he was sure it was An’Arka.
It was. An’Arka spoke briefly with one of the inspection team, showing him something on a flat screen device he was carrying. He approached Naylon. “You will come with me.”
“To where?”
“To see Minister Ne’Uanju.”
“Why?”
“Orders.”
“Tann comes with me,” Naylon told him.
An’Arka looked at him briefly, then spoke a single word. “No.”
Tann heard all of it since he was standing next to Naylon. “I’m going with him,” he stated boldly. Two of the guards several meters from An’Arka heard the exchange. They didn’t understand the words, but it was obvious some sort of defiance was taking place. They approached, then stood next to An’Arka with their weapons at the ready. Naylon reached out and squeezed Tann’s shoulder. “I won’t be long,” he said encouragingly.
Minister Ne’Uanju didn’t care to be awake so early. Since his assignment monitoring the Terran prisoners, he had had to alter his normal sleeping patterns somewhat to accommodate theirs. Telkan physiology was adapted to a thirty-five and a half hour rotation. Terrans were adapted to a much shorter one. He would never get used to having to time shift every second day.
The prisoners they had taken from the Terran vessel nearly a revolution ago had provided plenty of intelligence. Within three months, the prisoners had provided enough information to determine the strength of nearby Terran forces. He knew Terrans needed lots of mental stimulation or they got bored. It was a simple matter to bore them for weeks at a time, then force them to exchange information for mental stimulation. It worked on all their prisoners. He was aware their technique for extracting information was not what the Terrans used. Terrans were ruthless with their Telkan charges. Some of their people had been found dismembered, disemboweled or had sustained permanent injuries, all in the Terran quest to get information they wanted. The Telkan pain threshold was tremendously high, they rarely felt bored and they had a natural tendency to not talk unless absolutely necessary. Their species couldn’t have been more different in that respect.
But the new prisoners could potentially provide useful information. If it were true what the Terran had told him then the most valuable discovery, perhaps of all time, lay on M’jas’la. Confirmation of part of the lost Telkan past may actually have been nearby all this time!
Naylon sat on the uncomfortable chair directly in front of the minister. An’Arka stood to his side. Neither had spoken since he had been led into the room. In fact, Naylon thought they had both slipped into a catatonic state. When he moved to adjust his position, he noted both An’Arka and the minister watched his every move with their eyes. Naylon decided the silence might be because each was analyzing him, trying to discern something with a sense he lacked. Finally, after several minutes of the bizarre silence, the minister spoke.
“You will tell us where the gateway is located on M’jas’la,” he said through the translation computer. Sort and sweet, and certainly directly to the point, Naylon thought. He decided he could play their game, too. He counted to twenty before responding. “What will you do with Tann?”
The minister leaned backward slightly after the translation was complete. Naylon didn’t answer his question, proving this one was intelligent and concerned about his companion’s fate. That was a good sign. Many times when he had interrogated a Terran, they spoke the most vile words and had erratic emotional responses. It added to the wonder the minister had about these creatures. Many of them were nearly psychotic at times. He noted they hardly ever spoke to each other that way, but he had seen and heard of Terran prisoner fights to prove it was always under the surface of their character. The need to struggle seemed programmed into their genes.
“Your companion will be kept until you provide the location of the gateway.”
“I do not know the location of the gateway. And why do you want to know where it is?”
A snorting sound came from the alien’s mouth. He looked directly into Naylon’s eyes this time. “I will ask the questions. You will provide the answers. If not, you will be kept in the prisoner hold. If you wish to end your days as a prisoner, so be it. Be aware you will be provided with no sunlight, no exercise, no companionship and no diversions until which time you have provided the answers I request.”
Naylon instantly assessed the situation. He had no intention of spending the rest of his life in a cell for nothing more than being caught by them! If they were kept with the other prisoners for any length of time it would be quite evident they were both not from any Terran world, and could be used as pawns in their war. In addition, it would be impossible for him to pretend for very long that he were not gay. In the back of his mind, Naylon was aware that could very easily mean his life would be at stake in their power struggle. There was Tann to consider, too. Tann was straight and young. He was also very good looking. At least Naylon thought so. It would only be a matter of time before the other Terran prisoners decided to have their way with him. After all, there was no sign of any women prisoners. Tann could hold his own, but not against more than one of them. They could easily overpower him. Terran or human, everyone needed ‘companionship’. Even the Telkans apparently knew that. He wondered what the Terrans back in the holding area were doing about that after being held for so long, and instantly regretted leaving Tann alone.
But there was something else that matter most. A way out. The minister had actually provided him with such an opportunity. One he might not ever get again. The minister needed information. If he pretended he had it, it might be the only way off the planet. The plan formed in his head within seconds.
“Minister Ne’Uanju,” Naylon began. “I accept your request. I don’t have the exact coordinates of the gateway. I will need my companion to assist me in determining its location. He has a vital piece of equipment that helps us detect the presence of the gateway. Only he is trained to use it. All of our belongings were taken from us. We can’t scan for it again without our equipment. He was the one who found it in the first place.” There, he made it seem as though Tann was vital for the mission.
Naylon waited for the translation to complete.
An’Arka and the minister spoke to each other for several minutes before the minister returned his attention to Naylon. “If you are lying your end will not be swift.”
The minister, although trained in the ways of the military command on their homeworld, was otherwise a metal weaver. It required extreme concentration, lots of patience and a gentle touch to produce his art. The brilliant colors that metal weaving produced was highly revered on every Telkan Held World. His required duty with the service had forced him to put his art on hold.
The Terrans had not yet discovered the true nature of Telkan culture. A façade had been carefully invented and choreographed specifically for interaction with Terrans. Being an extremely creative species it was only natural that such a façade would be generated. The minister knew their superior height and weight was to their advantage in many ways, especially psychologically. Those who had to interact with Terrans had been thoroughly trained to use that. The use of language was of special importance as well, since Terrans did not use scent in their day-to-day interactions. In that respect, the minister had always considered Terrans limited in their range of communication. No wonder they could be so easily intimidated. Yet, it took just the right kind of personality to determine what particular psychological technique to use on a specific Terran. Outright use of authority usually worked at first. If not, they would simply work their way through the Scale of Superiority. With this one, the first level worked just fine. But the minister was careful. Always in the back of his
mind he continued to tell himself how clever they really were. Clever enough to deceive, if it benefited them.
Naylon was returned to the holding area immediately after his request. He was brought to the double doors, which slid open at a voice command by one of his Telkan guards. He walked in and the doors unceremoniously shut behind him. Naylon looked around. No one was in the immediate area. He heard voices coming from his and Tann’s sleeping alcove. When he approached, he noted all four Terrans were standing around Tann. At first Naylon was concerned that his fear had come true about them having had their way with him. But as he looked in, he noted the situation was calm and everyone had their clothes on.
Naylon heard Rogerto emit a laugh, then the men noted Naylon’s presence.
“Ah, Naylon is returned to us, unscathed, I hope. Did you have fun with them?” Rogerto asked.
“Uh, what’s going on in here?” Naylon replied.
“We’re having a conference,” Rogerto told him. “Tann has told us all the details about how you arrived here.”
Naylon hoped Tann had enough presence of mind to not divulge their real story. If he had done so, becoming pawns in their long war would become a reality much faster than he bargained for.
“And…”
“As before, I do not believe a word of it!” Rogerto emitted a guffaw this time. “Whoever heard of a ship standing still and moving spacetime around it. It is a very inventive story!”
“But it’s true,” Tann said.
“That’s enough, Tann. Why are you lying about how we got here?” Naylon wanted to deflect the men’s attention from Tann as soon as he could.
“What?” Tann said, quite confused.
“I said that’s enough,” he said quite sternly.
“It’s okay, Naylon,” Rogerto told him. “He provided an amusing tale of your adventures. None of us think it’s true, but I will tell you this. He’ll provide plenty of amusement for our captors. They don’t understand irony or humor very well. They will take a lot of time to determine if he’s telling the truth, then eventually become exasperated with him. I suggest you provide more such stories, too. Once you run out of them the real interrogation will begin. Before that happens though, we want to know how you got into the clutches of our enemy.”
The Rylerran Gateway Page 32
