The Interstellar

by David Lund

  “I shouldn’t have screamed,” she whimpered.

  “Shush,” he said. “Don’t worry about that. Can you stand?”

  She nodded and wiped her face with her uninjured hand. He helped her up and once he was convinced she was steady, he turned his attention to the door. Obviously, the metal handle was freezing. He wrapped his sleeve around his hand and touched the handle. It had the effect he wanted, he could turn it. He looked at Jal before opening it.

  “How good a shot are you with your left hand?”

  “Don’t worry about that, sir.” She smiled, despite the pain.

  Michael opened the door and raised his gun, but luckily, the room beyond was empty and they met no resistance. They were in yet another hallway, which they crept along slowly. Michael paused at the first door they came to, and listened in. He couldn’t hear any noise on the other side so he tried to open it. It was locked.

  “Captain, surely there would be guards outside their cell?” Jal whispered, shivering slightly. They moved on.

  Soon, they came to a right angle, so there was only one way on. Michael paused at the junction and peered around the corner. Again, they found the way ahead unblocked. Just after the corner was another door, and once again Michael put his ear to it. This time he could hear voices. Voices he could understand.

  “- just another stupid theory!” Michael’s heart leapt as he recognised doctor Adrian Hensen’s voice.

  “I’d like to see you come up with something better,” Marshall Hayes replied bitterly. Michael knocked lightly on the door. He heard someone say “shush” on the other side.

  “Marshall?” Michael whispered, loud enough for them to hear. “Adrian?”

  “Captain?” came a sharp reply.

  “Yes, stand away from the door.” He pushed himself against the far wall and motioned for Jal to

  step back. He fired at the door with the maximum setting. Once again, it burst a hole through the it.

  Once the dust had cleared, Michael could see Marshall and Adrian’s faces peering at him. Both men broke out in grins.

  34

  Simon Hank was pacing up and down the room. It had been almost thirty minutes since he had sent his message to Henfor, and he was still waiting for a reply. He would have thought the Earth crew would answer immediately. Were they not just as elated as he was at finding more human life in this system? They hadn’t spent the last fifty years locked in a cell, without any other humans though, he reminded himself. Maybe they weren’t bothered about an old human man. Maybe he was forgetting what humans were really like, after all he hadn’t seen any in over five decades.

  Every now and then, he glanced around the room and saw the Friiist talking among themselves, taking no notice of him. The only one who seemed to glance at him a few times was the young female, whose name he did not know.

  Janewall was sitting at the computer waiting for the message to come in. She had explained how it was a complicated process because it had to be sent through several secure channels, and it was normal that it would take to come through. Even so, Simon was impatient. Didn’t any of them understand how important it was for him to speak to the humans?

  When he’d had enough, he went over to Janewall again, and asked if there was anything new.

  “I will tell you when there is,” she said gently, maybe imagining what he was feeling. He nodded and huffed back into the middle of the room. The young female got up from her chair and walked up to him. He looked into her face. She was taller than him, but not by much. Her pale blue skin was quite fascinating. The red gleam of her eyes was soft rather than harsh, and her long green hair reached down to her waist. Overall, he thought she was rather beautiful. As he looked at her, he saw her mouth twitch, and thought she might be smiling.

  “Don’t worry,” she said in her soft voice. “We will get an answer.” He looked at her intently.

  “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t care.”

  “How can you think that?”

  He just shrugged.

  “Tell me about you,” he said. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “My name is Naylall.”

  “That’s very pretty.”

  “Pretty? A name is not supposed to be pretty, it’s a designation.”

  “Surely someone chose that name for you? They must find it pretty.”

  “The name was passed on to me by my mother, Naylall, who got it from her mother Naylbell.”

  He laughed.

  “I’m confused. Why was your grandmother’s different?”

  “The names on our world are passed from mother to daughter and from father to son. The first part

  of the name is always the same, the second part changes according to the century.”

  “Huh?”

  “Everybody in this room has a name ending in ‘all’ or ‘al’. This is because everyone was born this century. Anybody born last century will have a name ending in ‘bell’.”

  “Wow, where did that tradition come from?”

  But Naylall did not have time to answer. Janewall called Simon over, they had received a message. He hurried over to her and sat anxiously in her chair. She pressed a button on the screen and a face appeared. It seemed to be a very large, burnt man. His face was so dark, it looked like a badly burnt potato chip. He had wild eyes and long white hair.

  “Simon, I’m sorry this has taken so long to reach you, security is an important matter that we cannot take lightly. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Barneen, and I am the president of the southern continent of Henfor. I have several important things to tell you.

  “First of all, you mentioned in your message that you were rescued by a group of Friiist. I know they are probably also listening to this message, but please be warned: they may not be trustworthy.

  I am not saying this is the case, just be careful around them, do not put all your faith in these people.

  Although, I suppose they are likely to say that about me.

  “Secondly, I have made contact with a group of your people and are in the process of helping them. I will not tell you the full details of what we are doing, for obvious reasons, but suffice to say: they are unable to speak to you at this time.

  “Now, I turn to the Friiist listening to this message. If you are indeed willing to help Simon, than I ask you to take him to the coordinates sent with this message. I have a transfer ship waiting. I will then take him to his people. The file attached has all the details.” The voice suddenly switched from a businesslike tone to a much softer one. “Simon, your people will be anxious to see you, and so am I. We have shared a lot over the last few days. I hope to see you soon.” The message ended and Simon released a breath, realizing at the same time that he had been holding it.

  Janewall was already decoding the coordinates. Their meeting point was less than three hours away and they were to meet in six hours. The Friiist already started making plans for the trip. Simon turned to Janewall.

  “He doesn’t trust you.” Janewall did not look up from her monitor.

  “No, he doesn’t. I’m not surprised: our two species do not get on. However, he is obviously willing to give us a chance. Although, I’m guessing he will have an armed vessel in the area, ready to attack if he thinks its a trap.”

  “What if we are walking into a trap?”

  Janewall looked up at him and smiled.

  “You don’t trust him.”

  “I don’t know him, I know you,” he sighed. “But I guess I’ll have to.”

  “If he helped others of your kind, he will help you.”

  “Yes, but where are they? And what are they doing that makes them too busy to speak with me?”

  He hated the bitter tone in his voice. He felt like a little kid who was being ignored by his parents.

  “Yes, that is intriguing.”

  “You don’t think they’ve been captured or locked up?”

  “No,” she said simply and did not elaborate, nor did Simon press the point.

&
nbsp; *

  A few hours later, they were on their way to the coordinates sent by Barneen. The trip so far had been fairly uneventful. Janewall had taken him in her small ship, and they had spent the journey exchanging information about their cultures and different ways of doing things. Simon had learned a lot about the Friiist and about the war between them and the Henfor. He wasn’t aware of it, but the Friiist version of events differed somewhat from what Barneen had explained to Michael.

  Janewall told him about how the Friiist had spent years interested in the Henfor planet, studying it, trying to figure out if anyone lived there. They finally managed to send a manned ship and land on Henfor, where they were met by an underdeveloped species, who got angry at the aliens who had invaded their skies. Apparently, they shot at them with primitive weapons, injuring two Friiist, who were captured and taken back to the Henfor government, where they were tortured before being killed. From then on, the Friiist tried to contact Henfor on two more occasions, offering to make peace, exchange ideas and share technology, but both times they were met with nothing but violence.

  After that, they decided to keep tabs on the Henfor and make sure they didn’t cause any harm, to themselves or to the Friiist. They watched as they developed technology and sent probes and ships into outer space. The Friiist were worried about what they were doing, worried they would damage the solar system with their rash thinking and lack of real preparation, and tried to give them warning, but the Henfor unleashed a powerful weapon on the Friiist home world, killing many of them, and continued what they were doing. This is when the Friiist decided to take action, and the war started. A war that lasted decades, until the probe from Earth destroyed everything.

  Simon was silent while she had been speaking, trying to absorb this information. He was not sure he really wanted the Henfor’s help after hearing this. They destroyed millions of people just to stop the Friiist nagging them? They sounded like a horrible race. And yet, they had helped the other humans. Although, he reminded himself, there is no real proof of that. For all he knew, they might have been tortured and killed like the Friiist had been, all those years ago. He wasn’t really inclined

  to trust the Friiist either. Here was a race that had locked him up for fifty years, freezing, torturing and almost starving him. They had not killed him, but he believed death would have been preferable. The only people he felt he could trust, was Janewall, Kraywall and the others. The people who had saved him. The people who had been nice to him.

  He remembered that Janewall did not entirely trust her own government and wondered whether this story was a fabrication. Maybe the Henfor had a different version. He knew for a fact that people liked to rewrite history to suit themselves. He put the question to her.

  “It’s an interesting thought,” she answered after a moment. “I can’t say I have much faith in the Central – they have lied to us too much – but I can’t really see this being a fabrication. After all, many people lived through that period, and the story has been told all over the world.”

  Simon was about to answer when he saw Janewall’s expression change. She was staring at her scanners.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “There’s a ship coming towards us but… it’s not a Henfor ship. It’s human.” Simon stood up sharply, and looked down at her instruments.

  “Can we see it?” he breathed. She pressed a button and the view screen in front of them changed from dark space to the view of a ship. It looked to Simon like some kind of giant aeroplane. It was black and sleek, with neat wings on either side and four large reactors on the back. He gaped at it, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. On board that ship, were humans, actual people from his home planet.

  “Wait,” Janewall cried. “They are charging some kind of weapon. I’m reading nuclear power.”

  “Can we contact them?” Again Janewall pressed a button and the view screen changed again.

  The face of a human appeared on the screen. A man, probably in his sixties, with a crop of dark hair splattered with grey bits was peering at them. Simon choked, he could not believe he was actually seeing another human being. He couldn’t help it, he wept. The man looked at him, and his face changed from anger to fear, than realization. He said only one word.

  “Dad?” Simon looked intently at the screen. No, it couldn’t be.

  “John?” Tears were streaking down the other man’s face now too. Simon actually fell to his knees.

  “John,” he said quietly, staring with relish at the man’s face.

  “It’s me dad, it’s me.” He shouted at someone near him. “Power down the weapons.” He turned back to the screen. “I’ve come to get you dad, we can go home now. Together.”

  Simon couldn’t help, he sobbed and fell to the ground.

  35

  Michael, Jal, Adrian and Marshall were running back down the corridor towards the staircase as fast as they could. Adrian and Marshall had many questions, as did Michael, but there would be time for that later. First, they needed to get to safety.

  No one met them as they ran down the corridor, but when they reached the door to the staircase where Jal had frozen her hand, two Friiist darted out from behind the door. It must have been a surprise for them too: to suddenly be in a corridor filled with humans, as there guns lay at their sides. Marshall reacted straight away, with the spare gun Jal had given him, he took out both aliens before they could even raise their own.

  They left them lying there – Adrian grabbing himself a gun – before hurtling down the stairs.

  Halfway down, a door to their left burst open and a bolt of electricity hit the wall just above Michael’s head. He dived to the floor and looked up: two more Friiist had appeared. Jal shot one of them but the other one darted out of the way, and Marshall’s shot missed. Adrian was on the floor next to Michael, watching the battle.

  Michael quickly leaped into action and fired a shot at the alien, hitting it squarely in the chest, but before he even had time to get up, three more of them came through the same door. Michael pulled the doctor to his feet and pushed him down the stairs. He yelled at the others to go too, and they were all running as fast they could, jumping several steps at a time, Michael bringing up the rear and firing randomly over his shoulder. He thought he must have hit at least one of them, because he heard something hitting the stairs, hard.

  Two bolts of electricity whizzed over their heads, creating cracks in the wall opposite. They reached the bottom and took cover behind the stairwell. Michael managed to hit another one who also fell down the stairs. The last Friiist was crouching out of sight, further up.

  The group stayed there for a few moments, panting slightly, but still feeling so very cold.

  Michael was actually shivering, but adrenaline was pumping through him and any thoughts about the cold were kept at bay.

  “The ship is through that door and along a corridor, right at the end,” Michael said, nodding to the door with the gaping hole they had created earlier. “I’ll cover you, Jal, lead the way.” He fired a shot up the stairs as the others ran out into the large hall. Michael fired a second shot and followed.

  There wasn’t any return fire.

  The hall was void of aliens, so they ran quickly across it and into the corridor which led to where their ship was docked. He hoped nothing had happened to Gareen and the others. So far their way was clear, but about fifty meters away from the docking port, several Friiist came out of the gloom, holding Gareen, Videem Frank, Jean and Lindsey, each of whom had a weapon pointed at their

  heads.

  Michael and the others raised their own guns and pointed them at the Friiist. One of them stepped forwards. It was Kaywal. Apparently he had recovered from their fight earlier.

  “Lower your weapons, Captain. You cannot win.” Michael kept his gun trained on Kaywal.

  “Let them go,” he said.

  “Drop your guns or they die,” a note of fierce anger entered the alien’s voice.

 
“If you kill them, I will vaporize you,” Michael pressed the maximum setting to emphasize his point. To his surprise, Kaywal laughed.

  “You will not let your crewmen, and these two, die,” he nodded towards the Henfor, disgust etched upon his face. Kaywal had got that right. He had no intention of letting his friends be killed. He tried to think of a way out of this stalemate.

  “What do you want with me?” he asked, stalling.

  “I’ve already told you.”

  “No, I mean with me in particular?”

  Again, Kaywal laughed.

  “I want nothing from you, Captain, I want something from all of your people. But as there is only you and your crew, they will do, for now. Drop your weapons!” Michael couldn’t think of anything else to do. He didn’t doubt for a second that Kaywal would give the order for them to be shot, but if he lowered his weapon, they would certainly all die.

  “You’d just kill us anyway.”

  “Not yet, you have things to see first.” He turned to the alien holding Lindsey. “Kill the girl.”

  “No!” Michael shouted. “Okay, you win.” He dropped his gun to the floor. The others did the same, and they kicked them to Kaywal.

  “Very good, Captain. Now, it is time for a little trip.”

  They were led into the docking port and ushered onto one of the Friiist submarines. It was a large vessel, long and thin, about five times bigger than the one they had come on. Inside, it was only slightly warmer than in the building. Michael looked over at the Henfor, they were very white, and he doubted they would last very long in this cold. He himself was freezing. It must have been minus twenty.

  They were led into a small room at the back of the ship, where there weren’t any windows or a shed of light. Once they were all inside, there was a flash of light and Michael knew an energy barrier had been placed around them. Kaywal peered at them through the darkness and turned to one of the guards. Having no translators with them, they didn’t understand what he said, but the temperature in the cell suddenly rose to about twenty degrees, and Michael felt his numb body burn with glorious warmth. Then Kaywal and the guard left the room.