by Simon Kewin
*
The Draconian stood at his normal place in the centre of his cell, staring at the star field they displayed on one of the walls. They did not, of course, show it that the Armageddon device was nearby.
It was tall, twice Mackenzie’s height, and massively powerful. It bristled with spikes and spines, each limb, each part of its anatomy, modified to act as a stabbing or a slashing weapon. Its carapace was the standard, shimmering, metallic green. He remembered how they had mistaken these fearsome killers for some sort of Draconian war machine at first. Only later did they realise they were the Draconians.
The cell was bare: a large, evenly-lit cube, all surfaces grey. It wasn’t that they were trying to punish the alien. It was simply that they had no idea what sort of environment it would have preferred, and the Draconian hadn’t deigned to inform them.
The ship put him inside, immediately in front of the creature. He couldn’t help feeling a pang of anxiety. It barely seemed to notice his arrival. It glanced down at him with blank eyes, as if trying to decide whether to bother killing him, then ignored him. The array of symbols scratched onto its chest was clearly visible: stylised representations, so the thinking was, of all the people it had killed. The spiked limb which they assumed was damaged hung inertly at its side. They hadn’t bothered or dared to try and treat it.
It occurred to Mackenzie they could be considered very beautiful creatures.
‘Will you speak?’ he asked.
It said nothing. Mackenzie began to stroll backwards and forwards in front of the creature, his four arms folded behind his back. He knew it could understand him. They were far from unintelligent.
‘There are many of my people who wish to see you killed. If you help us, I can prevent this happening.’
The creature, ignoring him, proceeded to hone the cutting edges of some of its talons by rubbing them on patches of specially-adapted hide. Mackenzie pressed on.
‘The ship we found you near at the end of the battle. The ship that is half-asteroid. What is its function? Is it a warship? Did you help build it? Are you a member of its crew?’
It looked down at him as if seeing him for the first time. Very rapidly it struck out with one of its arms, scything cleanly through Mackenzie’s body.
The avatar being projected by the ship did not waver. The creature gave a low, grunting sound and resumed its sharpening behaviour.
Mackenzie had the distinct impression that it wasn’t really listening to anything he said. Perhaps he was merely an annoyance to it: the buzzing of an insistent fly.
‘There are others who want to open your mind and extract what you know forcibly. We can do that. It would destroy you.’
He knew the creature wasn’t in the least concerned, that it was unable to take such threats seriously. Nevertheless, it did now respond. It emitted a rapid series of clicks and thrumming tones, which the ship translated into a deep, rasping voice.
‘Your empire. What is it you call it?’
‘The Million Stars. And it isn’t an empire.’ He couldn’t help himself being defensive. ‘At the last count there were, I believe, 1.2 million suns covered by the Concordat. Although, of course, there are a few less than there were because of your supernova weapon.’
For the first time the creature seemed genuinely interested, its upper limbs moving slightly in something like excitement.
‘The sunburst device. Did you see it? Glorious. So much death in one strike.’
He tried not to get riled by the creature. He had seen the supernova weapon used. He’d been part of an evacuation mission. From a system of five planets with a total population of some one hundred billion people, they’d managed to rescue about a million. He wasn’t going to give it the satisfaction of telling it that.
‘We have nearly obliterated you from the galaxy. How does that make you feel?’
The creature said nothing and returned to watching the stars.
