“Yes, yes there are some Stinger missiles there, maybe a dozen.” She replied.
“Why, what is going on? Is everyone okay, is Margo alright, and the rest?” I said in the background.
Asuna shushed me and continued. “They should be in the armory, in a room marked 23 SB on the lower level. They are easy to use, just point and shoot. What is going on? Is everyone okay?”
The message was away, and would take a while, an hour to get there. Shit, I shouldn’t have come on the ship. They need me.
As we waited for an answer, it was pins and needles. What was going on? I pictured helicopters or fighters from the air force swooping in.
About 90 minutes later we got a message back, it was Teckla, she told us that everyone was okay and explained the contact with the Pittsburgh, an active submarine and about the discovery of the Hunters. The missiles were a precaution and that was all.
“We will be out of contact with them for a while because we will be falling behind the meteor wall between Earth and the Red Marker.” The technician clicked to RRqil who translated for us.
I am not happy about this, I’m worried.
March 4th
No word, still stuck behind the orbit wall. This is miserable. I am snapping at Asuna, and everyone.
March 5th
Teckla’s birthday, I hope they are alright. Still no way to call home.
March 6th
Still nothing, I am very worried.
March 7th
Garbled message today, could not make out much, “Camp… Okay……… have missiles….. lost……”
“It sounds promising” said Asuna.
“Yeah, Yeah” I said thoughtfully, something was wrong, I felt it. The ‘lost’ word bothered me. “Lost, Asuna, what did they lose? That scares me.”
“It could be anything, a truck, a missile, a…….” as she tried to put a positive spin on the situation.
We were both thinking the same thing, someone was killed, but who, and how. It is haunting.
“Let’s try to send back a message, maybe we can find out some stuff.” I suggested.
We were able to talk the tech into letting us send a message. Well actually, it was RRqil that did the talking.
“Romanica, Romanica, we have received message, but only parts. We have that you found the Stingers, but what was lost. Please respond,” was what we sent. Now we wait.
March 8th
Nothing from home.
We explored some of the area where all the rooms were located. There is actually a kind of order to it. The first room was the cave. Then next was the inside of the African Mud Hut. And a jungle room and it just continues, in a sort of chronological order I think. It appears that as each guest was collected, a new room was made next to the last. It was kind of marching through time.
March 9th
Still nothing, the poor tech must be sick of seeing us and having RRqil ask him the same question every day.
We did some more exploring today. We covered about 25 of the rooms and many of them were similar, all early man, aboriginal I think is the term that would fit. I asked Winston about the inhabitant of each room, some were males, some females. Their ages varied as did their point of origin, all the continents were represented except Antarctica
I think that he is getting the idea about my curiosity and has pointed out a few of the rooms as ‘of interest’. Obviously the Cro-Magnon and his suicide were interesting. But there were a couple of others in that first group that also self-terminated as he called it.
It appears that it was in these early times that people had the most difficulty in accepting the idea of their being a “guest” and as a result, be it fear, or anguish or who knows what else, did themselves in.
Maybe it is, or was, the isolation of it all. The first guest really had no one to talk to, or communicate with. They were test subjects, lab animals and although the QUalz seemed to treat them well, or tried to, there was just no way for them to relate or interact.
I have Asuna here with me, and the QUalz have learned much including our language and many of our quirky human things, humor, sorrow, even loneliness over time. So for me and Asuna it is not so bad. I’m glad I came with her. But imagine that poor African hunter, or the cave man. I can understand why they might go off the deep end.
March 10th
Damn it. Still no word from home and I’m thinking that it is not likely that we’ll get one anytime soon. Not that they are dead, but more just we are in a bad place to receive and send.
Asuna and I spent the night in the Cave last night. As it approached the ‘night cycle’ it was illuminated by a holographic fire in the pit. There were sounds that were present like the chirp of crickets, the crackle of the fire and the occasional flapping of bat wings.
As the flames flickered and danced, I suddenly became aware of figures on the wall, cave paintings. I had noticed them before but as I stared at them again I saw the same things that we always saw with the ones pictured in that cave in France, stick figures with bows. There were animals (deer or elk?) and men hunting them. But then I noticed that there was one man figure away from the group, he seemed to be higher than the others. And he was halfway between the men and animals and the moon, and a star or like a planet or an asteroid…..I.
“Asuna, come look at this.” I had already walked closer to the wall and was staring at it.
“What? I saw the cave art before, what is so….” And she had the same ‘ah-ha’ moment I had.
“I think this is a drawing of our friend being taken, why else would he have been away from the rest of the humans.” I said.
“And the star or planet like thing is the ship, this ship!” said Asuna, becoming excited.
“Yeah, and I wonder…… I think we may find some other pictures or stories by some of the other guests. Or, or, maybe, when they went back to earth they did the art work there.”
Asuna looked at me for a moment, “or told the story to their tribe, then over time it was integrated into their history or lore.”
“Either way, I think we need to look more closely at the other rooms, to see what we might find there. Maybe that Greek guy on ‘Aliens of Old’ series was not as whacked as everyone thought.”
It was hard falling asleep; all I could think of was a goofy guy with a bad hair style going “it was aliens”.
March 11th
I cornered Krezz this morning and asked, “How are you doing on getting us permission to explore the data on the other guests who had been on the ship.”
“I have been granted an audience with the First Hatchling, I am not sure how it will go, and he does not like to share some things. But I will do my best.” Said Krezz.
I thanked him for his efforts. I could tell he was a little annoyed by my cornering him, but the QUalz tend to be slow moving and protocol oriented so one had to move with care.
When I got back to the cave, I found that Asuna was back, her ‘interview’ with the lab team was done.
“Hey, what say we go look at a couple other rooms and see if we missed anything in our first visits.” She suggested.
“Sounds good to me”
We moved to a little hut like room that appeared to belong in sub-Sahara Africa. It was a round room, maybe 20 feet in diameter. It was lined with wooden sticks about 4 inches in diameter. They were held together by some vines and what looked like leather strips. There were no windows.
There were gourds that were used to hold water, somehow they filled themselves regularly. We saw a sleeping mat and animal skins on the dirt floor. The interesting thing about the dirt was its color. It was an orange hue; it reminded me of some of the soil I had seen in Georgia.
We could find no art, or writing, or pictures. We talked about it and decided that this person relied on oral tradition. If they returned home, it had to have been a wicked story that he told.
Krezz came by tonight, we were back in the cave. I’m kind of liking the coolness of it. We have put being creeped
out by the suicide issue behind us.
“I spoke with the First Hatchling and told him of your request. He asked why you were interested in those who were no longer here. I explained the best I could that it was to find out more about your race, and your early ones.”
“And?” asked Asuna.
“And he said that he would consider it and get back to me with his mind.”
“Ah, and what exactly does that mean?” I asked
“It is possible; he did not turn me away instantly, as I thought he might. The fact that he is considering is a good sign.”
“So it is a hurry up and wait,” I added.
“I do not understand, why would one rush and then stop to pass time.” Said Krezz, his chameleon like eyes took each of us in even though we were on opposite sides of him.
“It is a cliché, I will explain it to you later” said RRqil with that grimace and making that hiccupping noise.
After they left, we sat down and had our dinner. I would really like some deer stew.
March 13th
Still no message from home. On one hand I can accept that we’re in a bad messaging area but at the same time I worry that there is no one left to send a message. I am trying to be Zen about this, that it will all work out but dammit, I want to know what is going on.
Today we were able to go to a couple more rooms in the hive; I guess that is the best way to describe it. The places we visited today were all very primitive in nature. There was one from what appeared to be Southeast Asia; like the cave, it was just the inside of a hut. It appeared to have been made from leaves, long tropical leaves. It felt hot and very humid inside. There was a sleeping mat on the floor and a little fire pit in the middle of the room. It was a cooking fire because clearly one would not need it for warmth. In the corner there were some wooden bowls, but that was about it. We found no art, or writing or messages. Although it was interesting, on one side of the floor was an indentation in the dirt. It was as if someone had paced back and forth repeatedly.
I asked Winston about this guest. He told me that it was some form of holy man, although he could not tell me what religion specifically. This guest came long before any of the current crew was hatched, an estimated 2500 Earth years ago. (* I have asked Winston to correct QUalian cycles into Earth years due to the difference in what the cycles may be because of orbital changes.)
The ‘walking thinker’ as he was called made some monotonous noise and spent his days walking back and forth. But Winston said that it had not been possible to translate or understand this one. He was on the ship for a long cycle (27 months) before he was returned to Earth. But it was noted in the records that when this one, the ‘walking thinker’, was returned to Earth he turned to the Qualz who delivered him home and bowed, with hands pressed together and was smiling, there seemed to have been an air of peace around him, or so reported the team leader.
There was no record of a name on this person; oral Sat-Communication was not yet established. The ‘walking thinker’ was only described as having excess body fat and no hair. The hair thing was somehow fascinating to them as they believed that humans always had hair.
We moved to the next room; it was the interior of some type of igloo from the arctic area, it was dirty on the inside, and it smelled bad, I mean really bad, it may have been rotting food or wait, no, it was old people smell, unwashed body odor, I remember it from my cop days. It was a quick exam, nothing obvious was found. We moved on.
After lunch, a heaping plate of friggin’ mush, we moved to another room. I miss Nick’s deer stew.
Our next stop was the inside of a tent that looked like it was from the Middle East, it was large, airy and rather elaborate based upon what we had previously seen. There were silk covered cushions filled with what I think must have been camel hair. In the center of the tent was a large fire pit, that seemed more for light and ambiance than cooking/eating.
In one corner were a series of scrolls. When we looked at them they were in a strange, very cursive language, Arabic like.
“Winston, have these scrolls even been translated?” I asked.
“I’m sorry Tom, but they have not.” was the response.
“Why?”
“The records show that these scrolls were copies of some that were present in the tent at the time we took this one. He never added to them. When this one was taken the head of the human study program was interested only in the biologics, not the culturals.”
“I see, and this one, what happened to him?” was my next question.
“He was one of the four that required our intervention. In the early part of his stay be became ……searching….. deranged? Is that the proper term? He terminated his feeder/caretaker and then escaped his room; he ran rampant and terminated three of our protector class before we were able to subdue him. Even then he continued to attempt injury on the QUalz. He broke free and the protectors ended him,” explained Winston.
“I can understand the choices made. Do you know more about this man, this guest? What was his origin?” asked Asuna.
“Little else was known, he was taken from a place in what you now call the Levant. We had no real opportunity to study him much. He was found on a trade route, camping near a waterhole. I think the term oasis is the Sat-Common term. The records show he was a male, about 30 Earth cycles old. He was ….. calculating…..you would say 5 foot 5 inches and 145 pounds. He was in fair health although was suffering from a genital/reproductive disorder. It was speculated that it may have been the cause of his derangement. “
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Searching…….yes, each day, several times he would kneel and face the door of his room (tent) and sit for several minutes making a kind of wailing noise.”
Over the evening mush we talked about this person. The actions seemed religious, the kneeling and Praying (?). early Muslim (?) It was interesting; I found that his was a more likely reaction than that of the Cro-Magnon, fight to escape rather than just self-terminate. But it also appears that he may have had some dementia as a result of his genital disorder, I was able to find out from Winston that it was what we call syphilis.
I would love to know what was on those scrolls.
March 15th
Still no word from home, still worried, still annoying the Sat-Comm-techs. They say that we are still in a dead zone for transmissions.
Asuna and I checked out a few more of the rooms in the hive. There is one that is clearly from Aboriginal Australia. The QUalz have managed to make a little camp set up with a mural on one of the walls that resembled the area around Uluru, a sacred place to that people.
It is actually kind of neat, the way they have done this reminds me of going to a museum where they have displays, dioramas (?) of the various people that they have taken on board to study. And yet, these were really where the people lived in reality, re-creations within some cases actual items taken at the time of their capture.
In this Aboriginal camp area was a little fire pit, and some rocks, flat rocks with images etched into them. These images seemed to have been made by the guest. There was a small sharp rock, a flint I think, that was near where the drawing, etchings actually were.
The pictures themselves showed many dots (stars), a big dot (the ship) a spiral and a little stick figure standing on the ship. I wonder if this work was re-created when the Aborigine returned to his home.
Krezz joined us at lunch time and was, what for him, seemed excited. “I have received a summons from the First Hatched and he has told me that he can find no reason why you should not be allowed to view the files of those who have come before you.” He stammered.
“Wow, that is good news” said Asuna.
“Yes, but what is more amazing is that he has asked if you both would join him and his Bonded for the evening meal.” He was shaking, “This has never been done before, and you will be the first humans to have contact with them, such an honor.”
I looked at Asuna and even before I could s
ay anything she turned to Krezz, “We accept!”
The rest of the day was spent looking at some other rooms; we explored four, more like we went through them quickly, but saw nothing that jumped out at us. We may have missed something because we were pretty distracted by the invitation that we had received.
“The First Hatched, the top dog, I mean Lizard, I’m not sure what to say.” I mumbled.
“Well, remember, he may not have the language down, so we don’t want to say anything stupid.”
“True, I guess I better be careful with the attempts at humor,” I mused.
“Ah yeah” replied Asuna, by now she knew me pretty well.
We actually dressed for the evening, it would be warm but after talking it over we decided it was a good idea. RRqil came and got us at the appointed time and we were escorted to the First Hatched’s quarters.
It was not at all what I expected. It was, well it was basically just the same as anyone else’s in the hive. It was bland, plain, warm, and humid. There was a desk, a sofa and chairs for sitting, although the QUalz seldom sat. And there were book shelves, many book shelves filled with books and Knick-Knacks. In a way it reminded me of a library. It was almost as if this room was a diorama from some college somewhere.
There was a little door off to another room on one side, and there was a large window that showed outer space, but it was, well, not what I expected. The topper was an old scruffy cat sitting on the window ledge grooming itself.
The First Hatched was pretty much the standard issue QUalz, he was nothing remarkable, and he wore nothing that would make him stand out, actually he and the rest of the QUalz wore nothing. Although, maybe it was my imagination or the lighting, but he did sort of shimmer.
RRqil introduced us to him. It was done in clicks and percs that are the language of the QUalz, I had no idea what was being said. The First Hatched looked at us, and then he grimaced and made a similar hiccupping noise to that of RRqil when she laughed. Asuna and I looked at each other and then smiled.
“Now, now, let us not be so formal. I am the First Hatched, and old, but I do not take myself so seriously. You may find I am almost likeable.”
The Event Trilogy (Book 3): The Archive and Beyond Page 5
