The Sha'lee Resurrection

by Paul G White

  One of the holograms seemed to shimmer for several seconds, and the anomaly highlighted by Mai Chang’s sharp eyes and mind separated from its surroundings and changed colour. The new, greatly enhanced image floated over to Parel and Shenna, who inspected it from every angle.

  When Parel finally spoke, his voice was filled with emotion. “We, the Sha’lee survivors, already have many reasons to thank our rescuers. And now, one of our human friends has identified what is almost certainly the seat of Captain Lessil’s impaired brain function. Fortunately, we are able to treat this type of injury and the captain should make a full recovery. However, he will require—” Parel shot a question at the omnipresent AI before continuing, “—at least twenty four of your hours for the medication to completely heal the injury.” He hesitated for a few seconds, uncertain whether he might be about to insult the humans.

  Phil Makeman saved him further worry. His growing telepathic awareness of Shenna and Parel’s thoughts had forced him to inadvertently eavesdrop on their silent communication. “Listen, everyone!” he announced. “Parel and Shenna need to inject Captain Lessil with surgical and neurological nanomachines to repair his injury. Once they’ve done that, they need to have a good meal and get some rest. They are both too polite to ask us all to leave – but as Mike will testify, I’m not too fussy if I upset anyone! So, let’s leave them to get on with it and we can all come back tomorrow, fresh and ready for action. On your way out I’m sure Hela will provide technical information about the procedure for all you medical staff.”

  On cue, Hela announced, “I am preparing sufficient copies of the information in two-dimensional format. You will find them in a wall dispenser beside the main ramp.”

  Shenna inserted ‘Thank you’ into Makeman’s mind and he told her, “No worries!”

  Parel added his own thanks to those of Shenna, and added, “Will you stay with us in the Comora until your people return tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see what Mike says about it.” Carter was just about to leave the cold sleep area, and Makeman called, “Hey, Mike, do you think there’ll be a problem if I stay here overnight?”

  Carter halted in mid-stride, forcing Ellie Merrill and Hal Kleineman to take evasive action. “Are you OK with sleeping here?” he enquired. “I mean, won’t the beds be a bit on the small side for someone your size?”

  “I’ll risk it,” Makeman grinned. “I reckon Parel wouldn’t have asked me to stay if they couldn’t accommodate me.”

  “That is correct,” Hela announced.

  “In that case, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Carter replied.

  As she left with Mike Carter and Hal Kleineman, Ellie Merrill threw a lingering glance of approval in Makeman’s direction; and if he had possessed the acuteness of the Sha’lee telepathic sensitivity he would probably have been mildly embarrassed at the thoughts tumbling around in her head.

  *

  Parel asked softly, “Hela, are the injections viable?”

  “The final test is almost complete, Astronomer Parel. I will deliver supplies of both nanomachines to the captain’s cryo-unit in a few moments.

  As Parel, Shenna and Makeman approached the sleep unit, a soft hiss announced that the medical supplies had arrived. Shenna pressed an almost invisible indentation in the base of the unit. A small cavity appeared and two capsules slid into her hand. The metalloid surface of the plinth reformed once again until there was no sign of an opening. She handed one of the capsules to Parel.

  “Hela, please record this procedure, both for the human doctors and for the Comora’s log.”

  “I have anticipated your orders, Astronomer Parel and I have been making a continuous record since our human friends left the ship.”

  Parel looked into Shenna’s liquid eyes and sighed, a symptom of the tension he was experiencing. “Are you ready?” he asked both verbally and telepathically.

  “Yes.”

  Even as Makeman heard Hela’s translation, he realised that he already knew what the two Sha’lee had said. Weird! he thought; and if the two Sha’lee had not been so preoccupied, they would have considered his opinion amusing.

  Shenna stepped around to the far side of the cryo-unit and stood beside Lessil’s head, opposite Parel. In unison, each offered one end of their capsule to a point just behind Lessil’s ears, and at a telepathic command, they pressed them simultaneously to the captain’s skull. Makeman was not certain whether or not he heard a faint hiss as the capsules discharged, but the operation was over in an instant.

  Parel said, “Good, it is done. The nanomachines will repair the anomaly in Captain Lessil’s brain functions and he will awake in approximately one of this planet’s days. It is now time for a meal and rest, and I sense that friend Philip has many questions for us to answer – with Hela’s help if necessary. Shall we eat first?”

  “I could eat a horse,” Makeman agreed, and Shenna shot a question at the AI in rapid Sha’lee.

  A full-sized hologram of a racehorse, extracted by Hela from the Internet, appeared beside them. Shenna appraised the size of the animal for a moment before commenting, “That cannot be so, Philip Makeman. Is this another instance of your racial humour?”

  “I suppose so,” Makeman chuckled. “It’s just an expression we use where I grew up to say we’re really hungry. We don’t actually eat horses, although most people eat animal meat of one kind or another.”

  The irises in Shenna’s huge, liquid eyes expanded and contracted rapidly, in what Makeman later realised was a Sha’lee expression of surprise, but she made no other comment. A doorway appeared in the far wall of the cold sleep room and Shenna ushered Makeman into the brightly-lit compartment. The doorway vanished, and they were in a personnel lift similar to those already used by the humans to reach the cold sleep room. But everything within seemed a little more comfortable – the difference between working and living environments? Makeman wondered.

  His guess was confirmed by Shenna, who said, “We will shortly be in the Comora’s main refectory, where Traybaren was able to make at least one small corner useable in the period following the disaster.”

  The wall of the lift vanished, revealing a room large enough to accommodate at least three-hundred Sha’lee diners. A small area, containing several neatly-arranged tables and chairs, had been cleared beside a bank of food dispensers. The remainder of the refectory was a jumble of furniture in a wide variety of conditions, from completely smashed to relatively undamaged. Shenna and Parel took in the scene of devastation.

  Finally, Shenna said, “I had forgotten that most of the Comora is in such disarray, and I think we shall have to ask for more assistance from our human friends. Do you think that Michael Carter will agree to help?”

  “If you believe that clearing up the Tsunami damage throughout the ship will improve how the Sha’lee survivors adapt to their situation, I’ll go right now and ask Mike and Lars to arrange for cleaning parties to come in first thing tomorrow morning. They’ll be glad to help. Just ask Hela to show me the way out and back in again.”

  “That will not be necessary, Philip. Hela, please contact Doctor Michael Carter on his personal communication device.”

  Moments later, a hologram of Mike Carter’s head and upper torso appeared in the air in front of them. It said, “Mike Carter. Who am I speaking to?” The lip movements were slightly out of sync with the words spoken by the image.

  “It’s Phil,” Makeman laughed.

  “How are you phoning me? I thought the Comora was impervious to phone signals . . . or are you outside the ship?”

  “Look, Mike, it’s just Hela showing off what she can do. At the moment I’m looking at a hologram of you that’s speaking your words, and I can assure you it’s pretty gruesome. But joking aside, we need help in here. Remember what the main hold was like?”

  “Yes, it was pretty chaotic.”

  “Well, the main ship’s dining room is pretty much the same; and Shenna tells me it’s no different wherever you go throughout the rest of
the ship. Everything was badly shaken up by the tsunami and it’s a wonder anything at all survived intact.” Makeman hesitated and said, “Hela, can you send Mike a picture or two?”

  “Two or three-dimensional?”

  “Two will be fine. I think three-dimensional might just freak him out.”

  Carter’s image gave a surprised yelp and, utterly deadpan, the AI commented, “Your assessment was correct, Philip Makeman.”

  Carter blurted out, “You surprised the hell out of me. I had no idea you could do that, Hela.”

  “My apologies, Doctor Carter. Philip expressed the view that you would be shocked by the sudden appearance of a hologram and I could not resist the temptation. Was it an acceptable attempt at humour?”

  “Saints preserve us from practical jokers, especially artificial intelligences.”

  “Thank you Doctor Carter, I think I understand your meaning.”

  “You’re welcome, Hela. Are these images representative of most areas of the ship?”

  Carter’s hologram registered further astonishment as images from around the Comora appeared beside him. After a few moments’ appraisal he said, “I’ll discuss the situation with Director Hendriksson over supper and we’ll set up some teams to come aboard and sort it all out for you. I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of volunteers if it’ll make it easier for more of us to come aboard. Phil, are you there?”

  “I’m here, Mike.”

  “I wish I was in your shoes, you lucky devil. See you all tomorrow around eight.”

  As the hologram broke up into a multi-coloured mist and slowly faded, Makeman grinned at his recollection of his friend’s astonished expression. “I wish I could have been there beside him when the first hologram appeared.”

  Hela feigned offence. “But you saw Mike Carter’s reaction within narrow error limits. I have observed many of his facial expressions in varying circumstances during his time on the Comora, and I am confident that the hologram I produced was fairly accurate.”

  “OK, I believe you, Hela . . . but I’d have still liked to be there in person. He’s normally pretty calm, but your practical joke must have caught him completely by surprise.”

  Shenna and Parel had seated themselves at a table capable of accommodating at least eight Sha’lee. Shenna selected eating utensils and ordered a variety of dishes with strange-sounding names.

  “We do not consume meat,” she explained. “In fact the Sha’lee have not eaten animal flesh for many centuries. The dishes that Hela provides will consist entirely of processed vegetable matter, as did the soup we ate earlier. Will that present a problem for your metabolism?”

  “Not in the short term,” Makeman replied, “but over a longer period I’ll probably need to supplement the Sha’lee food with the vitamins and minerals I need to keep my body working efficiently.”

  Hela gave a tiny cough. “Yes, Hela?”

  “Astronomer Shenna, I cannot provide food for Philip Makeman or yourselves for more than two days. Traybaren and Dollen prepared only a small number of meals for storage before they entered cold sleep. I have all the necessary ingredients in my stores but, as you are aware, I am unable to prepare them myself. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “You’ll be welcome to eat with us,” Makeman offered.

  “Thank you, Philip, but that would present a similar problem of long-term nutrition for the Sha’lee,” Parel replied, “and should be a decision for Captain Lessil to make when he awakens. However, we can eliminate the shortage of prepared meals by raising both cooks, Traybaren and Dollen from sleep once Captain Lessil is awake and in full health.”

  A soft ping sounded from one of the food dispensers, signalling that the first course was ready. Shenna rose from the table and collected three bowls of soup. She laid them on the table and sat down. Immediately, Parel picked up his spoon-like utensil and began eating. He was joined by Shenna and Makeman.

  Parel regarded Makeman over a spoonful of the aromatic soup. “You have questions, Friend Philip?”

  “Only one, really, and it’s baffling me. It seems that out of all the humans on site, I’m the only one sensitive to Sha’lee thoughts, and if I can ‘hear’ your thoughts now, why hasn’t my ability shown itself at some point during my forty years. I mean, I never previously even dreamt I was telepathic. Why now?”

  Shenna gazed at Makeman across the table, her dark eyes seeming to bore into his soul. “The answer lies in the rarity of your gift amongst your fellow humans at this stage of their physical evolution. What is the population of your Earth?”

  “About seven billion, I think.”

  Shenna shot a query at the ever-present AI, who translated the number into the Sha’lee equivalent. Shenna’s irises expanded and contracted, indicating surprise. “Have you met every one of this vast number of human beings?”

  “Of course not. It would take many lifetimes.”

  “That is why you have never suspected your latent ability. If you had encountered even one such person, your gift would have revealed itself to both of you. That was the way on far Sha’lee’an amongst the first of our ancestors to display the glimmerings of telepathic ability. A ‘transmitter’ must have a ‘receiver’ much like your human communications devices. Each is incomplete without the other.”

  Makeman said, “Oh, I see . . . I think.”

  Shenna continued, “It is theoretically possible that you are alone amongst billions of your kind, but the possibility is so unlikely that it can be discounted. Evolution on Sha’lee’an always tended to make many separate attempts at change over a very short span of years, and when a few of my people first became aware of their telepathy, others were able to recognise the same new ability in themselves. I am confident that evolution will follow the same rules wherever you are in the universe, and that there are many people like yourself scattered throughout the vast population of your planet.”

  On reflection, Makeman hoped his alien friend was correct. The possibility of being the only person amongst the whole of humankind so afflicted filled him with horror, and he had no wish to live the rest of his life as the centrepiece of a freak show.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Lessil’s eyelids flickered and reflexively opened for a moment before snapping shut against the strong yellow lights overhead. Warily, he projected tendrils of thought all around him in an attempt to gauge the numbers of Sha’lee attending him. He experienced a hubbub of random mental noise, none of which made any sense whatsoever to his sluggish mind. Focusing all his attention on thoughts of Sha’lee’an, Lessil sought familiar mental patterns and eventually succeeded in isolating two Sha’lee thought streams amongst the chaotic mental babble. He aimed a probe at one of the Sha’lee and was gratified to receive acknowledgement, although the acknowledgement came in a most unusual guise.

  It said: Captain Lessil is beginning to awaken, and I detect telepathic activity, although it is very weak.

  Lessil projected, Who is attending me?

  I am Astronomer Shenna, Captain. Astronomer Parel is also here.

  What is the source of all the mental babble? Have the remaining survivors lost their minds?

  Shenna considered it wise to verbalise, in order to warn the attending humans that the captain was awakening. She stepped a little closer to the cryo-unit and said, “The uncontrolled thoughts you hear are those of our human rescuers. For them, telepathy is in its infancy.”

  Hela translated Shenna’s words, and all the members of the medical team focused their full attention on the still figure in the sleep capsule.

  Are they alien spacefarers who happened upon the Comora whilst exploring this wild planet?

  “No, Captain, they are the dominant species on this world, which they call Earth.”

  Once more Hela translated and confusion enveloped Lessil’s turgid mind. He lapsed into mental silence, unwilling to consider the various alternatives thrown up by Shenna’s information. He was in the early stages of awakening and he suspected that he was misunderstan
ding the situation. He waited.

  After several minutes Parel said, “Captain?”

  “What is it, Parel?”

  “You were seriously injured during the turbulence of the tidal wave and you have been injected with nanomachines in order to repair the damage. Your sluggish mind is unable to comprehend the strange circumstances of your awakening, but once fully conscious, you will regain your mental acuity and be able to appreciate the incredible truth of our survival. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.

  “Will you cease resisting your awakening?”

  “My apologies, Parel, I will cooperate.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” Parel locked minds with Shenna, and together, they led Lessil’s dysfunctional mind towards consciousness.

  After more than five minutes, Lessil blinked twice and then opened his eyes. He turned his head and saw Shenna and Parel, surrounded by several huge aliens. He looked out of the other side of his sleep unit and saw a similar number of aliens.

  “These are our rescuers?” he asked Parel.

  “Most of those present are medical personnel, and they have attended the three awakenings which have taken place so far. There are presently many more within the Comora clearing up the damage in all areas of the ship. Those directing our rescue are eager to speak with you once you have returned to full health.”

  Lessil suddenly recalled a phrase Shenna had used: for them, telepathy is in its infancy. This could have only one interpretation: Shenna had detected telepathic activity amongst the aliens; and to Lessil, telepathic capability was a prerequisite of an intelligent and cooperative civilisation.

  In the short period of time that had elapsed since first opening his eyes, Lessil’s mental acuity had improved. He was now thinking more clearly and he felt ready to sample the mental babble once again – but this time with more self-control. He searched amongst the chaotic thought patterns of the aliens within the cold sleep chamber, probing gently in an effort to elicit some kind of response that would confirm Shenna’s assertion of nascent telepathic ability. He probed all the aliens to his left-hand side with no success whatsoever, and so turned to the other side. There, Shenna and Parel stood each side of a particularly large alien. The alien seemed to be regarding him intently, but Lessil was aware that his inexperience of alien facial expressions was probably leading him to a wrongful interpretation. Lessil probed gently, and was astounded to receive a response.