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Xeno Relations

Page 13

by Trisha McNary


  Antaska knew that Potat’s feelings were hurt, but Antaska’s feelings were hurt too now. Three months was a long time for someone you cared about to ignore you and not speak to you.

  “She’ll talk to you again when she’s ready. She just needs some time,” M. Hoyvil had told Antaska.

  But Antaska was starting to think that the little cat would never forgive her. And it was too late to get rid of Wawuul. That wasn’t going to happen. Like Potat, Antaska was attached to him too but in a different way she didn’t completely understand. She only knew that, just like with Potat, the attachment was unbreakable.

  “We should see what’s going on inside the other buildings. And hear. Can you cats show us now?” M. Hoyvil asked.

  “OK,” said Potat.

  Wawuul over floated to face M. Hoyvil and nodded his huge cat head.

  “Can you start with the slave barracks outside?” M. Hoyvil asked.

  Wawuul turned to look at the view screen again. Then he projected a telepathic image into their minds starting outside the barracks door and moving inside.

  At the same time, Potat said, “There’s no one talking telepathically in there right now. But I sense a humanoid. Just one. And lots of small animal life.”

  Wawuul’s telepathic image kept going down the long, narrow hallway. Small critters sat unmoving or traveled along the hall, unaware of being watched. Wawuul’s image focused on each of the small, flimsy doors along the hall and then entered each of the rooms behind the doors. An empty and uncomfortable-looking bed filled most of the narrow space in each room.

  As the familiar images flooded through Antaska’s mind, her memories returned to that horrible, desperate time she’d spent there. The same painful feelings struck unexpectedly, and Antaska gasped out loud. She floated back toward the far wall, instinctively trying to get away from the sight inside her head.

  “Stop it!” Potat shouted telepathically at Wawuul. “Don’t you see that you’re hurting her?”

  The mental image instantly disappeared.

  “Maroww?” said Wawuul.

  He turned toward Antaska with a questioning look on his humanoid-like cat face. Her first thought was to reassure him, but a second thought told her what she should do instead.

  “Thank you, kitty!” she said to Potat. “I guess you really do care about me after all.”

  “Well someone has to look out for you since this big cat doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Potat answered.

  The heavy weight that Antaska had been carrying in her heart for three months lifted.

  “It was upsetting when I saw that place again, but I can handle it now,” said Antaska. “Now that I know that my little cat cares about me, I can handle almost anything.”

  “Humph,” said Potat from inside M. Hoyvil’s pocket. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, but OK.”

  “Go ahead, Wawuul. We need to see this,” said Antaska.

  Antaska steeled herself, and the mental image returned. It repeated the same thing over and over—a small door with a small, ugly, and empty room behind it. Antaska, M. Hoyvil, and Potat continued to watch.

  Then something different appeared behind one of the doors. An elderly Woogah man was sitting on the bed in the cramped room. He sat unmoving with a fixed stare. Wawuul zoomed the view in on his gaunt face. In front of his round bulging eyes, the misty white clouds typical of the Woogah species swirled slowly.

  “It’s Nestgorm!” both Antaska and Potat said at the same time.

  M. Hoyvil turned to Antaska.

  “Was it normal for him to sit in there alone in the daytime?” he asked.

  “No. I don’t think so,” Antaska said. “He was always in his office, watching the slaves and announcing the meal times. I guess they could do the work without him, but they were under his compulsion. They wouldn’t go to eat in the dining hall without his orders. Maybe he’s just taking a break?”

  “Maybe,” said M. Hoyvil, “but I think we need to find out what’s happening in the main plant building. Wawuul, I don’t think there’s anything else to see in the barracks. Can you switch the view to the big building? And Potat, can you tell us if anyone’s talking telepathically in there?”

  Wawuul projected the image of the outside of the large work plant and started to zoom in. But Potat spoke up before his projection reached the door.

  “Yes, there’s talking in there. There’s a lot of talking,” she told them telepathically.

  “What?” said Antaska. “That’s really strange. When I was in there, no one ever spoke. All the slaves were telepathic, but they were under Nestgorm’s hypnotic spell. All they ever did was rush around doing their work in complete silence while thinking about him, of course.”

  “Well, they’re talking now,” said Potat. “A bunch of alien females are talking mentally. But there’s so many of them, it’s all jumbled together, and what I can make out doesn’t make any sense.”

  Now Wawuul projected the view just inside the doorway to the plant. It was empty, and the view down the hallway was empty of life too. But things were moving around. Mechanical things.

  Antaska was the only one who had ever been in there.

  “This looks different,” she said. “Where are all the workers? Unless we were at a meal, slaves were always running up and down the halls. I was mostly in a trance too, so my memory is kind of cloudy, but I know all this machinery wasn’t there. Wawuul, can you zoom in on some of that?”

  The view in their minds showed a close up of a robotic structure in motion. Long tubing extended from a rail along the roof to the robot. A mechanical arm reached out from the robot body and grabbed a bag of mold product from a shelf. The arm dropped the bag in a slot on top of the square robot. Then the robot zipped away to another location along the shelves and repeated the process. Other similar robots were speeding along the shelves doing the same thing.

  “It’s the same work that the slaves used to do, but those robots are doing it much faster,” said Antaska. “And it’s all brighter and cleaner than the last time I saw it.”

  In Wawuul’s projected view, a small cleaning bot came sliding across the floor. Its fluffy black bottom material was covered by a round metallic top. Then another one came from the other direction.

  “Those weren’t there before,” said Antaska.

  “But where are all the alien females?” M. Hoyvil asked. “You said they were in here,” he said to Potat.

  “Yeah, they’re here,” Potat answered from his pocket. “I can hear them talking, and it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What are they saying?” Antaska asked her.

  “Stuff like, ‘Do you like my new manicure?’ ‘It’s gorgeous!’ The pate you made for lunch today was fabulous,’ and ‘Are you done with those ten-pound weights?’”

  “You’re right, that’s weird. But where are they?” M. Hoyvil asked.

  The telepathic view in their minds panned down one shelf-lined hallway after another, and they were all empty.

  “They’re farther off that way,” said Potat. “I can hear their voices coming from behind all this.”

  It was hard for her to indicate a direction in the mental image Wawuul was projecting in her mind, but Wawuul seemed to understand and moved his view. It traveled down a long hallway through the door at the end of it. Brightly colored alien females walked leisurely though this wider hallway free of shelves and robots.

  Wawuul’s view followed two of the females through a large doorway. An immense gym filled with sparkling new equipment met the mental vision of the watchers. Over twenty females of assorted species exercised on sports equipment, lifted weights in one area, or stretched on mats in another area.

  “How in the world did this get here?” said Antaska.

  Of course, no one answered.

  “What are they saying now?” she asked Potat.

  “They’re all talking at once, but I’ll zoom in on one of the conversations,” Potat answered. “Those two on the exercise bikes are talk
ing. One just said, ‘Do you want to go to the pool after this?’ And the other one said, ‘Yes, but it would be a lot more fun if that hunky Eegor would come in with us.’”

  “Eegor!” both Antaska and M. Hoyvil said at once.

  “How can that be possible?” said M. Hoyvil.

  “Well, that’s what she said,” Potat said a bit huffily.

  “We believe you, Potat,” said Antaska. “It’s just hard to believe that they would be talking about Eegor.”

  “That’s right,” said M. Hoyvil. “How could he possibly be here? Would Master Meeepp have brought him here?” Then he asked Potat, “Do you hear anyone one else talking telepathically in the building? Any Verdantes?”

  “No,” Potat answered. “All I hear are these alien females. I hear some more of them talking in other parts of the building, but I don’t hear any male voices. Maybe one of the female voices could be a Verdante, but I can’t tell that.”

  M. Hoyvil squeezed his enormous head in his big hands.

  “None of this makes any sense,” he said. “Why would Eegor be here? Why would Master Meeepp’s ship be here? Could Master Meeepp have brought Eegor here, and then someone killed him?”

  Still strapped in for convenience in zero g, M. Hoyvil slumped back in his seat again. This time, the motion made the seat tip back almost to the floor. Potat flew out of his pocket and went to hover closer to Antaska.

  “There’s no need to panic yet,” said Antaska. “We still don’t know what’s going on here. Wawuul, can you keep scanning through the rest of the building so we can see who else is here?”

  “Grrr,” said Wawuul.

  He moved the view out of the gym and down a long hallway. Polished fabricated wood covered its floor. Blended stone material in creative patterns lined the walls. More doors led from the hallway.

  Wawuul’s view scanned behind all of the doors. Behind the first, a state-of-the-art spa with massage tables, saunas, and hot tubs. Behind the next, an enormous swimming pool. Channeled-in sun and starlight lit the room as bright as a summer day on Earth’s North Pole. The only beings in these rooms were alien females.

  Antaska was amazed.

  “How did all this stuff get here?” she asked.

  Again, no one answered, and Wawuul kept going.

  In an enormous dining hall with thick pile carpeting, deep-cushioned chairs surrounded polished floating tables. A few diners sat in one corner of the room. Wawuul zoomed in. They lifted shiny silverware to eat appealing food from fine fabricated chinaware. They sipped a dark red beverage from delicate crystal glassware.

  Wawuul moved out of the dining room and down the hall. His view reached the end and turned a corner. Down this hallway, the ceilings were lower, and doors were spaced at closer intervals. His mental vision passed through the first door and into the room behind it. A large, plush bedroom filled with personalized touches.

  “These are their bedrooms,” said Antaska. “We shouldn’t be looking at these.”

  Wawuul pulled the mental image out of the room and kept going down the hallway. More cleaning bots and a few alien females walked past in both directions, but still no Verdantes and no Eegor.

  The view came to the end of the hallway and went around the next corner. The next hall was broad again with higher ceilings. It was dotted with a few doorways. Several more cleaning bots moved back and forth across the shiny, polished floor.

  “I sense people here, but no one’s talking telepathically,” said Potat.

  The little cat was now close, so Antaska reached over and petted her lightly on the head. For the first time in months, Potat didn’t dart away from her.

  Wawuul took his view through the first door. It looked like another bedroom, but it was vast, spacious, and opulent. One wall displayed holographs of Earth as seen from space and close up. Another wall displayed holographs of the Verdante planet.

  A massive gold-trimmed bed, partly screened by filmy curtains, sat on its far side. Fabricated wood burned cheerfully in a stone fireplace built into one wall. A plush chair in front of a fanciful table faced a large oval mirror that hung from another wall.

  But the room held no personal items or touches. Everything looked new and unused.

  Antaska felt Wawuul’s big head bump against her arm. She turned and saw him looking up at her questioningly.

  “Yes, I think this is a bedroom too, but no one’s in here. You can go on to the next room,” she told him.

  The mental view shifted out of the room, back into the hallway, and then down to the next door. Behind that door was another huge bedroom. But this one, although empty of occupants, was clearly occupied. Earth and the Verdante planet rotated slowly on similar holographs on the walls. The furniture was less feminine, and articles of male clothing were strewn around.

  A cleaning bot moved about the room, but it appeared that the task of cleaning this room was beyond its abilities.

  Wawuul bumped Antaska with his head again and looked up at her.

  “Wait! Look!” said Antaska. “Those shoes on the floor near the closet door. They’re too big to be normal human shoes. Can you zoom in on those?”

  A close up of the big gym shoes displayed in their minds.

  “Could those be Verdante shoes?” Antaska asked M. Hoyvil.

  “No. They’re too small,” he answered.

  “But they’re a lot bigger than the feet of most humans,” said Antaska. “Except a really big human. Eegor!”

  Still floating near by, Potat growled and snarled.

  “Eegor! Those females were talking about him, but how could he possibly be here? This doesn’t make any sense,” said M. Hoyvil. “Wawuul, keep checking the rest of the rooms.”

  Wawuul pulled his telepathic view out of the big bedroom and into another room across the hall. And there, in a cushioned lounge chair, sat Eegor. Two Eeeepps sat in similar but smaller chairs across from him.

  “Eeeepps!” Antaska and M. Hoyvil both shouted telepathically at once.

  Potat’s snarl grew louder. She flattened her ears and waved her paws around in the air in front of her with claws fully drawn out.

  “Uh?” said Wawuul.

  He kept the view on the same scene. The mouths of the Eeeepps and Eegor moved as if they were talking. But Wawuul could only provide a visual image, and Potat could only hear telepathic speech at this distance.

  “Wait a minute,” said M. Hoyvil. “Is this real? It can’t be real. Could Wawuul have pulled this from something he saw in your mind?” he asked Antaska.

  “Un uh,” said Wawuul. He shook his furry head and wagged his furry tail.

  “No. I don’t think so,” said Antaska. “I haven’t thought about Eegor and the Eeeepps for a long time. I’ve had other things on my mind.”

  She looked up at M. Hoyvil, but he looked skeptical.

  Then Wawuul sent another image into their minds. It was Potat. Black with a white stripe from her own genetic alteration. She had disguised herself to help rescue Antaska.

  “Yes,” said Antaska. “That’s who I’ve been thinking about. She’s my hero.”

  Potat gave a little purr and wiped a paw across the top of her head.

  The mental image changed, and now it was showed Wawuul. Sleeping, strutting around, wagging his big orange-striped tail.

  “Well, of course I’ve been thinking about you too,” said Antaska.

  Potat sniffed.

  The image changed again. This time it was Marroo the Woogah.

  Potat growled low in her throat. The corners of M. Hoyvil’s big eyes lifted.

  “I think that’s enough of this,” Antaska said. “I think we know this is real, but what are we going to do about it?”

  “We need to find out if any Verdantes are here. And if they are, do they need our help?” said M. Hoyvil.

  “How can we do that?” asked Antaska. “Should someone go inside there?”

  “I can go in,” said Potat. “I’ve still got my skunk disguise on.”

  “No!”
said Antaska and M. Hoyvil both at once.

  “No. I can go in,” said Antaska. “I won’t be breaking the law because the Woogahs originally brought me to their planet.”

  “But how would you get in without them seeing you?” asked M. Hoyvil.

  “I’ll just go up and knock on the door,” said Antaska.

  “I think that’s a very bad idea,” said M. Hoyvil. “If you remember, these people—or semi-people, you might call them—have done some harmful things to you and others. I don’t want either you or Potat going anywhere near them. We can send Wawuul in. He’s not humanoid, so the galactic laws don’t apply to him.”

  “That might work,” said Potat.

  Wawuul had stopped projecting his mental image. He turned his face back and forth, watching each of the speakers, but he didn’t say anything.

  “What!” said Antaska. “You don’t think they’d notice a giant orange cat walking in the door?”

  The big cat floated next to her and rubbed against her side. She felt the rumble of his loud purr. Then he projected an image of himself walking into the building with tail held high and a swagger of the hips.

  “No, Wawuul. You’re not going in there,” said Antaska.

  “Well you and Potat aren’t going in there either,” said M. Hoyvil.

  “What!” asked Antaska. “You said we’re your companions, not your pets. Are you giving us orders?”

  It was the first time she could remember getting mad at M. Hoyvil.

  “I’m not giving orders because I’m your master,” said M. Hoyvil. “I’m giving orders because I’m the captain of the ship. And the captain always gives the orders.”

  Antaska was still mad. It might have had something to do with his attitude about sending Wawuul in, or maybe something to do with the embarrassing picture of Marroo that Wawuul had just shown everyone. But Antaska didn’t want to think about why she was really mad, she just wanted to vent.

  “Why are you the captain? Who made you the captain?” she asked.

  “I’m the captain because I fly the ship,” said M. Hoyvil.

  “That means you’re the pilot, not the captain,” said Antaska.

 

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