Far Country

by Fanpro

  The rearward-bending knees were admirably adapted to movement within the swamp, Horg noted, allowing ,the alien to place each foot carefully into the uneven or treacherously soft ground. The long lower leg above the claws had broad, webbed phlanges that now stood out wide as though in surprise. The lower claws showed the same minor webbing as well. An interesting beast.

  Horg was not the most articulate member of either his section or the DEST team in general, which perhaps made him the best person to make initial contact. There was nothing wrong with his mind: it was just that he was careful about what he said and how he said it. Still holding the laser rifle with his right hand, he gestured toward himself with his left thumb. "Swalen Horg," he said in a firm, commanding voice.

  He also said it with the sure and certain knowledge that the alien would understand. Everyone knew that if you spoke to someone who didn't understand your language, you should speak slowly, and loudly, and wave your arms. No one was so stupid that they couldn't understand that "Swalen Horg," he said, a little more loudly and with a more violent hand gesture.

  The alien continued to huddle against the foliage, but he became more relaxed. "Dakodo I am." The alien waved his hand with the same gesture Horg had used.

  Swalen Horg's plan for dealing with the alien had not been based on being able to speak to it in any mutually understandable language. Now that he was confronted with one alien who seemed actually able to speak, Horg had no idea what to say next. There were so many possibilities, he didn't know where to begin. He had a whole history of who he was, and where he came from, and what he was.doing here, and ... He stood open-mouthed. The muzzle of the rifle slowly dropped toward the ground.

  * * *

  "Name my Dakodo is. I Tetatae am." The voice was high and chirping with strength on the hard sounds, the sibilant sounds almost lost. Dakodo watched the blank expression on the face of the human with the rifle. He concentrated on what he was trying to say. "My name Dakodo," he said slowly. "I am Tetatae." Dakodo had to think hard before he spoke. The sentence structure he used was fine when dealing with his own kind, but a straight transliteration, a word for word substitution, did not work for humans.

  Dakodo stared at Horg, the skin between his double eyes wrinkling with the effort of thought. "You fell from sky like the others," he said, half question, half statement.

  "We came from Salford," said Horg, still confused about what to say or ask. "I think we had an accident. Sho-sa Takuda says we are here forever." It was the only thing Horg could think of. "I want to go home." That came out almost as an afterthought. Horg was surprised that he had said it at all. A wave of loneliness swept over him. His eyes blurred momentarily.

  Ever since he'd been recruited into the special forces, Horg had considered the DEST his home, the members his family. Now, suddenly, he thought of what he had left behind, the people and places he knew. It suddenly hit him with full force that he would never ever see any of them again. He knew some people would think of him occasionally, but the memories would eventually fade and he would cease to exist.

  There was an old legend that you existed as long as someone remembered your name. That was immortality. That was why there were graveyards with the names of people written in stone above their last resting places. But Horg, and all the others on that JumpShip, would have no resting place. They had vanished into the vastness of space. They would be listed "missing and overdue" on some log, and then their names would be filed in a vast computer memory and forgotten. It did not occur to Horg that perhaps the computer memory assured immortality.

  "Horg. This is Knyte. Report." The tiny speaker set against the left mastoid in Horg's combat helmet snapped the soldier back to reality. His eyes cleared.

  "Horg here. I have made contact with the ... the ... the person we were looking for." Horg didn't know what else to say. "He can talk," was the only other comment he could think of.

  "On the way," came the reply from the team leader.

  Dakodo had been chattering away all this time, but Horg had not been listening. Now he became aware of the strange chirping sounds from the Tetatae. It was hard to understand what he was saying and he concentrated on the noise. Slowly the words began to come through. The Tetatae was saying something about where he lived and what he did. It would all have to be repeated when Knyte and Holland arrived.

  When they did, the four of them squatted in a circle. Each member of the patrol questioned the Tetatae in his own way, Horg lapsed more and more into silence, quietly, methodically processing the information they were getting. Knyte questioned Dakodo in an orderly manner, examining each statement as it was given, using each as a lead to the next question. Holland just blurted out any question that came to mind. She was so full of inquiry the words seemed to fairly bubble out of her. Knyte would let her go on for a while and then get back on the track of what he wanted to know.

  As they questioned the alien, they became aware of other movement in the gloom of the forest. That there were others out there, watching their movements and actions, was obvious. Dakodo showed that he knew it too. At first the humans were on guard, but as the questioning continued, they began to feel safer. They were aware of the unseen presence, but it seemed more inquisitive than hostile. And they could hear, occasionally, a soft chirping.

  Even before Dakodo started to tell his story, Knyte had decided that they would have to take the alien back to the camp, but he wasn't sure how they would do it. Here was a link with the planet beyond the small circle they had explored on their own. This odd, bird-like creature could be the path to their own future. Knyte wondered, just in passing, if the two species would be able to inter-breed. Impossible, he thought, the idea vanishing as quickly as it had come. The alien answered all their questions; it was an interesting if incomplete story.

  Dakodo was an elder in a small tribe of Tetatae who occupied this section of the forest. There were other tribes in the area, but they were separated by some significant distances. Knyte tried to understand how far, and he questioned Dakodo on the subject, but the Tetatae could not answer the questions. Like many humans, Knyte thought of distance in terms of linear measure. Dakodo thought of it in terms of how long it took to get from one place to another. The tribes were four to six days apart, but how far that was did not matter. What was important to Dakodo was that he had to carry or find food for four days if he were to make the journey to another tribe. What was the importance of linear distance?

  The real question was how Dakodo came to speak their language. As Knyte listened he began to hear word patterns and vocabulary that were archaic. The language the alien spoke had been learned, he said, from the others who dropped from the sky.

  "The others? What others?" asked Knyte. The three patrol members leaned forward, almost threatening the Tetatae. Knyte was tempted to put the laser rifle to his head, forcing the creature to give the right answers. He didn't care that there were others in the forest. All his thoughts were concentrated on this one question. What others?

  "Long ago," said Dakodo slowly, concentrating on the words so that these humans could understand, "they from the sky dropped like you. This was long before my other's other's other's other came to the tribe. They in the valley fell, and there was great thunder. They came, they say, from the home in the new star that appeared in the sky then. That is what we of them say. They were not good for the Tetatae, and many died. That is why we were afraid. Many of the tribe said we should not meet you, but there were others who said yes. Perhaps you would for us be better."

  * * *

  Dakodo looked at the three human faces staring at him, searching each one for a clue to the future. There were other humans, he knew, back at the place where the star had landed. They would have to be consulted as well. "Those who fell were very weak at first, and the Tetatae who live in the flatter lands without great trees tried to help them. They who fell took the help and then they hurt the Tetatae. They who fell had guns, great sticks that could reach out and kill. The Tetatae ran
away from them. Later we were able to trade with them. Mostly it was food and the knowledge of what they could eat from the land, and river, and the forest. We gave them the belts we wove, and they were happy. But now they force some of those from the lands without the great trees to work for them and to do as they are told. There is great sorrow among the Tetatae. But what can we do? They are so strong and the Tetatae are so weak. Soon they will drive us into the mountains and we will not be here ever again. They so strong are. They were the people of the dragon."

  Holland sat back on her heels in surprise. "Like this?" she asked, reaching under her battle tunic and presenting the emblem of the Draconis Combine.

  Dakodo took the emblem with his slender fingers. He turned it over in his palm and studied it carefully. "Yes," he said finally. "Just like this."

  9

  "Tôã téotêo," said Dakodo, directing his remark to the forest beyond.

  There was no sound from the forest. The four grouped together in the tiny clearing were frozen as though time had stopped. Knyte, the leader of the patrol, the man who was supposed to make the decisions and direct the actions of the others, was as stunned and silent as a computer that had just been overloaded with information. He stared at the dragon symbol of the Draconis Combine in the hand of the Tetatae. His field of vision narrowed, the outside edges becoming dark. All he could see was the glowing red and gold emblem in the alien's soft palm. It mesmerized him, holding him transfixed. He felt lightheaded, dizzy, unconnected with the ground or anything else.

  Slowly his mind fought back against the cloud. He struggled up from the depths of some unconscious universe to regain the light in the forest. His field of vision widened until he could see the tableau of the three other figures around him. He glanced into the eyes of the other members of his team. Holland's eyes were vibrating, the condition of nystagmus that occurred after a violent neurological shock. All three members of the team had certainly suffered that. Horg sat crumpled, slack-jawed, to his left. Knyte reached out and touched each, shaking them from their reverie. He looked straight at Dakodo. "You must come back with us," he said, his voice hoarse and strained. "Sho-sa Takuda must speak to you. You will come with us."

  Dakodo nodded in agreement. He rose on his legs to his full height and turned to the circle of trees. "Tôã téotêo dâdã dêdê," he said to the blank wall of green. There was an answering chorus from the wall. "Dâdã, dâdã, dâdã," it echoed.

  Horg rose and stepped menacingly toward the Tetatae. "What did you say?" he asked, thrusting the laser rifle toward the bird creature. Not sure where it would be most menacing to point it, he aimed it directly between the thing's eyes. "What did you say?"

  "I told them I with you was going. I said I going with the people from the sky. They just repeated the word we use for what happening is now. That's all I did. It will be all right."

  "You'd better be careful." Horg was threatening enough in real life. He was quite spectacular when he really wanted to sound nasty. Dakodo looked at him, his four pupils tracking toward the muzzle of the rifle until they were all congregated in the front of his eye slits. Horg couldn't tell if the alien had gotten the message, but the sight of the eyes virtually crossed in the front of his body was ludicrous. He began to laugh. The eyes returned to their normal positions.

  Knyte touched Horg on the shoulder. "It's all right, Horg," he said. "I'm sure Dakodo won't try anything. He's been pretty good to us so far. He won't try to run. It'll be all right." Then Knyte laughed too, joined by Holland.

  Dakodo looked at the three of them laughing. "That sound," he said. "I have not heard humans make that sound before. Is it a bad sound?"

  "No, Dakodo," smiled Holland. "That is the sound we make when we are amused. When we find something that tickles us." She looked at Dakodo, but he didn't seem to comprehend. "Don't you know what 'funny' means?" The alien continued to stare. "I can see that you have a lot to learn about us. I'm surprised that you never heard the others laugh. They must be awfully serious. We laugh all the time."

  "I watch you to see what this is," said Dakodo. He nodded his head, his whole body rocking back and forth on his long legs. He turned in the direction of the camp.

  Knyte knew the path he had taken from the camp to reach the point where the encounter had taken place. The patrol had been planned as a deep sweep, designed to penetrate as far as possible into the forest and still return to the campsite before darkness engulfed their little world, a little world that had suddenly become much larger. He also knew the most direct path back to the site. Dakodo took neither of these.

  The alien led the group, his long legs contracting against his body and then extending well forward to brush away the foliage before he put his six-toed foot onto the ground. Knyte saw that each of the two pairs of forward-reaching toes was matched by a single toe in the rear. These two groups of three were completely articulated and able to grasp objects independently. The large hands on the thin arms were of the same design. This system made the Tetatae exceptionally capable of manipulating objects.

  Dakodo led in an essentially straight line along an almost invisible path, but he avoided the deep swamp areas and the steep, wooded ravines, pointing each out as he bypassed them.

  They did not talk to each other as they moved, respectful of the forest around them. Good woodspeople did not talk when in the forest. They concentrated their efforts on their progress and thus had little time or interest in conversation. The fact that they moved in single file also had something to do with their silence.

  Dakodo stopped them at the edge of one of the numerous swamps and pointed to the varicolored globes that hung from the trees. "Those you eat can," he said. He directed their gaze toward a cluster of waxy purple spheres. "Those you not eat. Make humans sick. Humans say they smell bad." He shook his body in what the humans had learned was something like a shrug.

  Knyte responded to the remark. "We can eat many things. Is there anything in here that you cannot eat?"

  Dakodo eyed him furtively. Then he decided that the human wanted the information just to know, not because he was looking for some way to hurt the Tetatae. This human, these humans, were not like the few others he had encountered; certainly not like the humans of legend and fable that the Tetatae used to terrify the young. He was glad that he had argued in favor of encountering these life forms. Other members of the tribe had warned against it, had said that no good could possibly come from such an encounter, but Dakodo had prevailed. "We try not eat from anything with a four-pointed leaf. That for us is bad sign. That is a truth for as long as I can remember. I do not know if all four-pointed things will hurt, but I stay away."

  Dakodo picked some of the fruit, including a couple of the purple ones. They were, he noted, well thought of by the Tetatae, even if the humans couldn't seem to stomach them. Before long the patrol was burdened with a plethora of specimens.

  The members of the patrol pondered the information. The forest hummed and twittered. The smooth surface of the swamp was broken by the occasional ripple as something beneath the glassy surface rose to feed on some unsuspecting insect that had wandered too close. Knyte hoped that whatever was doing the eating had a fondness for the mosquitoes that relished human blood. Around them they could hear the twittering and chirping of what could only be other Tetatae, those who were following Dakodo and the party. A raucous shout broke the stillness. Laughter followed.

  "That's a mercenary patrol," said Horg. "I bet one of them fell into that pit. Maybe we should help."

  "No," replied Holland. "Let them be. I've had enough of them and their leader for the rest of my life. I don't even want to associate with them. Let's just stay here and let them go by."

  "My sentiments completely," agreed Knyte. "Vost wants to be king." He drew himself up, placing his fists on his hips and thrusting out his chest. "I want all of you people to think of me as your god," he said. His pose and articulation were so close to that of Vost that the others laughed. "I am the person best qualified t
o lead you to my promised land," he continued. Holland and Horg grinned back.

  The sounds from the other patrol grew louder and more hysterical as they crashed through the brush. The mercenaries were laughing so much that they couldn't possibly be aware of anything around them. The chattering from the hidden Tetatae grew louder as well. Dakodo cocked his head and listened to the noise close at hand.

  "Ka dêdê!" he snapped to the unseen figures. "Ka dêdê!" He stepped to the ring of leaves behind the party and parted some of the branches with his hands. "Ka, ka, ka." He stepped back, shaking his head. "Some of the others have gone to meet your friends. I do not think that is a good idea. I told them, 'No, no, no.,' but they already gone."

  "Damn," said Knyte in an even voice. "I think you were right. They don't want to meet the merc patrol. Can you get them back?"

  "I not think so."

  "Hope for the best. Maybe the mercs will deal with them calmly. I'll try and warn the mercs to expect visitors," Horg said, raising the boom mike to his lips.

  His hope was shattered by a burst of weapon fire. Knyte recognized the sound of the slug pistols that all the mercenaries carried. There were shouts and the sounds of breaking foliage. Then more pistol shots. One of the slugs whined overhead, snapping branches as it continued into the darkness of the forest. A chorus of Tetatae voices erupted from the vegetation beyond. Dakodo listened.