by Andrew Gates
“How much do I owe you?”
Iris waved her hand.
“Don’t worry about it. Just take it all with you. I don’t use much fructose anyway.” Iris coughed a bit, suddenly remembering that she had a cold.
“Thanks. I’ll make it up to you. And sorry if I scared you with the convict thing. I should’ve phrased it better. I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Desmond responded.
Do I really seem that nervous?
“It’s nothing. I know you didn’t mean it.”
Iris cleared her throat and started walking him out.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she said as she pulled the door open for him.
Desmond nodded and exited the room. Iris quickly closed the door behind him and pressed her back against the wall as soon as she was alone. She took a deep breath. Though Desmond did not seem so worried, Iris knew that these were dangerous times. First the mysterious orb, then this killer comes along.
These were dangerous times indeed.
There were moments in Iris’s life when she felt powerless in the world around her, but now she felt it more than ever. Iris had still been working on this project for almost half her time as a teacher yet she felt hardly closer to a conclusion than she did at the start. It was like nothing she did mattered. Even if she found useful information, surface data records on orbs or plasma technology was not going to save the day from whatever was out there. No matter how hard she worked, she knew none of it would matter in the end.
She remembered the barrier, the dark glass wall, the vulnerability.
I feel so close to everything that can hurt me, yet so far away from anything that can save me.
A writer from the surface, John Milton, once famously said where no hope is left, is left no fear. Iris thought about that now as she stood against the wall. Despite everything, there was some hope left in her, some deep seeded belief that things could be better. It was only when all hope was gone that fear went along with it.
And Iris still had her fear.
She wiped her face and sniffled as she slowly walked away from the wall. She had done her research for tonight. It was time to put these thoughts aside. It was time to think about more pleasant thoughts.
The date was a success, she thought to herself, trying to think of something different. Even though I cried, I had fun. That’s what matters now, not some silly convict far away.
She smiled for a moment as she walked back to her table and noticed a flashing light on her pod. Surprised, Iris sat down and waved her hand in front of it, waking it up.
“New messages,” she said to the microphone.
There was one new message in her inbox. It was from Dr. Parnel. Interesting, Iris thought as she opened it up. Dr. Parnel never responded to her weekly reports this quickly. Yet here it was.
The message was short.
In response to your request to access classified transmissions, your access has been granted.
Use the following link to access the files. Your activity will be closely monitored.
MEGANET/access/file.PItZ-qr9jG8/L3SG.atlfed
- Dr. Sanja Parnel
Iris could not believe it. She certainly hoped for access to the station communications, but she never expected it, especially so quickly after sending the request.
Perhaps this escaped convict has Dr. Parnel spooked, Iris wondered, though she honestly doubted the two were connected in any way.
Only a few seconds ago, Iris was ready to put her research aside for the night, but now she felt giddy like a child getting a gift on her birthday. She could not help but tap the link.
It loaded fairly quickly. The link took her to a list of audio files arraigned chronologically. The first one on the list was almost 200 years old. Iris tapped it.
Static.
At first she heard nothing but static. But after a few moments she could hear voices as well. She leaned forward, putting her ear close to the speakers. She could hardly hear for the first few seconds, but eventually the static slowly faded away and the voices became clearer.
“Atlantic Station, contacting Pacific Station,” the words said.
Iris moved her head away from the speakers now that the audio was coming through more clearly. As she looked at the screen, she noticed a tab marked text underneath the audio timeline. She tapped the tab and a written transcript appeared on screen while the audio played. She followed along with the transcript as the audio continued.
://TRANSCRIPT
:/Contact 01 – ATLANTIC STATION/PACIFIC STATION
DATE: 2, Feb, 0001
[STATIC]
ATLANTIC STATION: Atlantic Station, contacting Pacific Station.
[STATIC]
ATL: Atlantic Station, contacting Pacific Station.
PACIFIC STATION: Pacifi Stato harvery yin.
Iris replayed the last few seconds of the audio file and reread the transcript as she listened to it. For some reason the Pacific Station responded in what seemed like gibberish. After replaying it a few times, she decided to move along.
ATL: Pacific Station, we are receiving you. Do you copy?
PAC: Atlantic Stato, wahr harvery yin, but wahr cannot anderstiz yin.
ATL: Pacific Station, please repeat. We are receiving but we are having issues with your message.
PAC: Atlantic Stato, wahr recevery yin.
ATL: Pacific Station, we are having troubles. Our time clocks were disturbed by the blast. We estimate today’s date to be February 2nd. Does that match up with your timekeeping?
PAC: Es that befor te lang slip.
ATL: Pacific Station, please repeat. We are having difficulties with your messages.
PAC: Wahr missvery yin during te lang slip.
ATL: [To ATL crewman] What the fuck is going on? Are they speaking English?
ATL: [Crewman response] I don’t know sir, they were instructed to speak English. All stations were.
PAC: Atlantic Stato, wahr cannot anderstiz.
ATL: Pacific Station, are you having issues with your machinery?
PAC: [Different speaker] Atlantic Stato, wilkamm back to te weld. Wahr missvery yin during te lang slip. Wilkamm. Wahr dinkvery yin destroite. Why no konrtractvery.
ATL: Pacific Station, we may be having technical issues. I’m being told we will terminate transmission and start again in 10 minutes, do you copy?
PAC: Atlantic Stato, why no kontractvery in lang slip.
ATL: We are going to terminate contact and allow our computers to reset and then try again. Pacific Station, stand by.
:/Contact Terminated – Atlantic Station/Pacific Station
://ENDTRANSCRIPT
Iris sat in awe as the audio file finished. Words could hardly describe how curious she felt about what she had just heard. Throughout her years she always heard the conversations were bizarre, but this was not at all what she expected.
It’s unintelligible, Iris thought. It reminded her of a young toddler trying to speak, getting some words right here and there but mostly saying nonsense. Yet the sound of the words seemed intentional, like they were forming real sentences. Iris detected repeated patterns and phrases in the speech, almost like it was another language.
But that’s impossible. It can’t be another language.
When doom on the surface seemed imminent, the survivors fleeing to the stations made a rule to use English as the primary means of communication between stations. Though the stations did not agree on much, this was a unanimous decision shared by all. It made no sense for any party to back out of it, especially during a first transmission.
Foreign languages died off fairly quickly once humanity awoke from the cryogenic freezing. Those families that did hold onto their non-English ancestral languages tended to lose it within two generations at most. It had been a long time since anything other than English was spoken here in the station, certainly before Iris’s lifetime. In fact, she supposed most people could not even grasp the idea of speaking anything else.
&n
bsp; Iris played the entire file one more time and read along with the transcript again. This time she paid close attention to key patterns or words used by the Pacific Station.
Pacifi Stato harvery yin.
That was the first sentence. Iris paused the track and stared at the words on screen. Clearly Pacifi Stato referred to the Pacific Station. Harvery yin was not quite as clear though.
She decided to break down the sentence into its structure. She pulled apart the subject, which was Pacifi Stato. That meant harvery yin must have been an adjective or verb.
After thinking about it for a few seconds, Iris decided to move on and come back to it. She played the file some more.
Atlantic Stato, wahr harvery yin, but wahr cannot anderstiz yin.
Now harvery yin appeared again, but this time the words wahr and yin both appeared twice. Iris read the sentence, first in her head and then aloud. At first she had nothing, but then as she read it aloud, it began to sound like something.
Atlantic Stato, wahr harvery yun, but wahr cannot anderstiz yin.
Wahr and yin were positioned like pronouns and rolled off the tongue just like them. Havery yin must not have been an adjective after all. It must have been a verb.
Atlantic Station, we harvery you, but we cannot anderstiz you.
Now the sentence was starting to make sense. Iris continued this process for the next lines as well. She started with pronouns, substituting wahr for we and yin for you.
As the sentences slowly began to form, Iris then looked at the verbs. She started back from the top. In the first sentence harvery’s positioning after wahr suggested it would be conjugated to that pronoun. Anderstiz also seemed like a verb in the second sentence, but despite following wahr, it had a very different end form. Iris thought about this for a moment. They must be different tenses, she thought.
The sentence beneath it had a verb recevery, which had a similar ending to harvery. That pattern, that –very pattern. It’s not unlike the present progressive –ing ending to English verbs.
Iris tried substituting the –very ending for –ing in the sentences.
Pacific Station, haring you.
Atlantic Station, we haring you, but we cannot anderstiz you.
Now she was getting somewhere. Haring was not unlike the verb hearing.
Atlantic Station, we hearing you, but we cannot ander… ander sounded like under… we cannot understand you.
At last she had done it.
Iris continued this process for the remaining sentences. It took her most of the night and by the time she had gotten all the way through she felt as if her bladder were about to burst any second. She stood up and walked to the bathroom as quickly as she could, not wanting to miss another second.
When she returned, she looked at her pod and read her new translation, which now included pronouns, verbs and even articles.
ATLANTIC STATION: Atlantic Station, contacting Pacific Station.
[STATIC]
ATL: Atlantic Station, contacting Pacific Station.
PACIFIC STATION: Pacific Station hearing you.
ATL: Pacific Station, we are receiving you. Do you copy?
PAC: Atlantic Station, we hearing you, but we cannot understand you.
ATL: Pacific Station, please repeat. We are receiving but we are having issues with your message.
PAC: Atlantic Station, we receiving you.
ATL: Pacific Station, we are having troubles. Our timeclocks were disturbed by the blast. We estimate today’s date to be February 2nd. Does that match up with your timekeeping?
PAC: Is that before the lang slip?
ATL: Pacific Station, please repeat. We are having difficulties with your messages.
PAC: We missing you during the lang slip.
ATL: [To ATL crewman] What the fuck is going on? Are they speaking English?
ATL: [Crewman response] I don’t know sir, they were instructed to speak English. All stations were.
PAC: Atlantic Station, we cannot understand.
ATL: Pacific Station, are you having issues with your machinery?
PAC: [Different speaker] Atlantic Station, welcome back to the world. We missing you during the lang slip. Welcome! We thinking you destroyed. Why no contacting?
ATL: Pacific Station, we may be having technical issues. I’m being told we will terminate transmission and start again in 10 minutes, do you copy?
PAC: Atlantic Station, why no contacting in lang slip?
ATL: We are going to terminate contact and allow our computers to reset and then try again. Pacific Station, stand by.
This is creepy. The weirdest part of all was that the Pacific Station seemed to believe they were speaking English. Why would they believe that? How can they not realize that they’re speaking another language?
And despite all the work she had done to translate the transcript, one question still remained.
Lang slip.
Iris could not figure out what that phrase might have meant.
She wiped her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She could feel her eyes watering up. Her body was tired from her cold and the lack of sleep. But mentally she felt energized.
She looked at the time. It was already 23:10 and she had a full day of school to teach tomorrow, followed by what was sure to be a busy day of research afterwards. As much as she wanted to continue, Iris decided it was best to start winding down (like she originally planned to do after Desmond left).
With so much excitement, Iris doubted falling asleep would be easy. She had stumbled upon something huge. This hidden language, however it developed and wherever it came from, was her first real lead since Dr. Parnel came to her for help.
She powered down her technology and went to her bedroom, feeling a weird mix of tiredness and excitement.
She was already wearing comfortable clothes so she did not bother changing for bed. Iris walked into the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror. I look so different, she thought as she gazed upon the reflection. The darkness on her hair was far down now, exposing a sea of blonde on the top of her head. It’s like I’m a new person.
When she finally went to bed, a thousand questions flew back and forth in her mind. Why would the Pacific Station speak in a new language? Where did this language come from and why did it look so much like English? But most important of all, she wondered about lang slip. Iris had a feeling that the meaning of that phrase would help to answer her other questions.
It took Iris over an hour to fall asleep and when she finally did her dreams revolved around these mysterious messages. She slept long and comfortably, not waking for any reason until her alarm blasted away in the morning.
Beep, Beep, Beep!
Iris felt well rested when she awoke. She hoped that the sleep helped to get rid of her cold.
The teacher immediately tossed the covers off her bed and raced into the kitchen. She pulled the first probar she could find from the cupboard and activated her pod, wanting to analyze as much of the transcripts as she could before the school day started.
She smiled as she loaded up the next message. So far she felt great, both mentally and physically. That long sleep sure helped, Iris thought.
That’s when she paused, frozen like an old statue of Rome.
“Long sleep,” Iris said aloud.
Lang slip.
ONCE AGAIN, DR. SANJA PARNEL WAS late to the meeting. She rushed in as fast as she could, hearing her high heeled shoes tap against the cold floor with every step. She passed underneath the large red banner of the Atlantic Federation and into the monstrous metal doors before her.
On the other side of the door was a short line of people waiting to go through the security check. Sanja joined a woman in the back of the line and let out a small huff of frustration. Normally Sanja would flash her badge and get anywhere she needed to be, but this was neither her office nor the Strategic Action Room. Here she was just like anyone else late to a meeting.
“Place your bags on the conveyer belt and anything
metal,” the guard said as Sanja finally approached the security scanner.
Being told how to go through the metal detector made Sanja feel like a plebian. But she understood the reasons. This was the Office Complex of the Atlantic Federation Council of Elected Officials, a mouthful of a term, where the elected body of the station’s lawmakers had their offices. Visitors were always coming to the OCAFCEO, whether for legitimate business or simply to rant to their EO about a bill they happened to dislike. But today Sanja was here neither for business nor ranting.She was here to waste her time.
The doctor placed her bags on the moving belt and walked through the metal detector. As expected, it did not make a sound. She grabbed her bag from the other side and waved to the guard. Not wanting to crowd the area, she walked a few steps out of the way as Yuri and Zoran caught up behind her.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Zoran asked. He was the newest addition to her team. The handsome young man seemed like he was always nervous about getting places. She knew their tardiness must have been driving him insane.
“We have to go a floor up. This isn’t my first time getting dragged to Fielder’s office,” she answered as she started walking. “Here, take my bag,” she said, handing her large grey purse off to Yuri. He took it without saying a word.
“Should we talk about how to go about this meeting? You haven’t prepared at all.”
“Because I don’t need to prepare, nor do I have the time, Zoran,” the doctor interrupted. “You of all people know how busy this week has been. This meeting is a joke.”
“Then why are we even having it?” the young man asked, naively.
“Because that’s how things work,” she continued as they walked through the halls. “When the Chairman of the Defense Committee asks you to come in, you come in.”
