Dreaming of Ayama

by K. A Knight

  “I swear, Fred, if you make me a human snack or an experiment, or hell… if that chair drops me—I am going to kick your alien ass,” I say calmly, knowing he can’t understand me.

  “Frend?” he inquires.

  “Yeah, yeah, frend,” I mutter, before blowing out a breath and sitting stiffly in the chair.

  When nothing happens, I relax, smiling at Fred, but I jump when bands snap from the arms of the chair, the metal locking over my arms. I feel another set on my legs as one wraps around my waist. My eyes shoot to Fred as I start to struggle. He raises his hands in a peace gesture and I give the bands one last tug, but when they don’t even budge, I slump back into the chair. I watch them carefully and they keep throwing me concerned looks as I glare at them.

  “Fred, I’m warning you,” I snap and he jumps.

  He swings his head my way and looks at me as his lips tug down, his tail wraps around his leg, and his shoulders slump. He rushes over to the tray and a gun I didn’t notice there, like the old school kind they used to pierce your ears with, except a faint blue glow surrounds the end and it’s wireless. He moves over to me, but when I start to struggle again, he stops.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarl, panicking.

  He waits until I stop struggling, already tired from the lack of sleep and food, and then he darts in ridiculously fast, presses the gun to my neck, and depresses it.

  “Motherfucking alien balls!” I yell.

  He jumps back as I go to head-butt him and I swivel my head, trying to see what they did to me. There’s a cool spot and a slight twinge in my neck, and out of the bottom of my eyes I spot a faint blue glow, but that dies soon enough and I glare at Fred again.

  “You’re an asshole, Fred!” I shout and he frowns, as the other alien growls.

  “That’s not nice, Frend,” he says sadly, holding the gun to his chest.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not really very nice after you just—wait a fucking second. I can understand you, and you can understand me?” I screech.

  The other alien steps closer, glowering at me. “They aren’t very smart, are they?” he questions, and I glare at him.

  Fred throws him a look before turning and smiling at me. “I injected you with a translator. It searches our database until it finds your tongue and translates it for us. Some words we do not know, so it translates to the closest term or leaves it as is, it will be the same for ours. I am afraid your language must be primitive and we must not have a big enough sample for our technology to translate.” He grins, almost jumping in excitement. “Though, that is not the case now. I could get a list added and increase our—”

  “Fred,” I grunt, spaceballs, who knew my alien ‘frend’ was such a talker.

  “What is Fred?” he asks, tilting his head.

  “Most probably an insult. They are like children and apes, and just as rash and stupid,” the other alien spits.

  “You are an asshole,” I throw back before ignoring him, wishing I couldn’t understand that particular alien, before turning to address Fred. “It’s the name I decided to call you since I couldn’t understand you.”

  “My name is not…Fred, Frend, it is Rilon.” He nods a greeting.

  “Rilon, I like it. My name isn’t Frend, it’s Indy.” I laugh and he frowns.

  “Oh, what is the meaning of Frend then? I am afraid it is not translating,” he mutters with a huff, tapping his neck where I spot a blue glow.

  “Oh, erm, it’s pronounced friend and it means someone you trust.” I shrug and then look at the bindings. “Er, Rilon, fancy unlocking this?” I joke and he jumps, juggling the gun in his hands before rushing over and pressing a button. The bindings snap back into the chair and I jump to my feet, rubbing at my wrists.

  “Sorry, Indy.” He looks at the floor as the other alien laughs.

  “Wherolk,” the other says between snickers and Fred drops his head further.

  “Wherolk.” I sound out the syllables slowly. “What does that mean? It’s not translating.”

  Fred—Rilon, mumbles a response. “It is an insult of our people, it means one which they class as lower than others because they are not as strong or confident. I am not a leader or a defender, I am…a scholar,” he finishes.

  I swing a look at the asshole alien and step in front of Rilon. “Watch your mouth, asshole, just because you can be one doesn’t mean you should,” I snarl and he steps towards me, growling.

  “We must get you to the jinum,” Rilon rushes out, stepping to the side and trying to distract us both.

  “Jinum?” I repeat, confused, and Rilon makes a high-pitched noise before tapping his translator again, muttering about needing to expand the database before he sighs. “Leader?” he corrects, and I nod my understanding.

  “Yes, let’s take the apes. Let the jinum decide what they want to do with the invaders,” the other alien spits and backs away.

  “We are not invaders, we crashed!” I yell after him as he steps out of the door, leaving me with Rilon. I look over at him to see a sympathetic look on his face.

  “Come along, Indy. I shall take you to our leader and then back to your people. Perhaps later we could have a conversation about your people and your planet?” he suggests, trying to contain his excitement.

  I find myself smiling at him. “I would like that, if you would return the favour?” I inquire, knowing information is power and I’m going to need as much as I can get on this alien race—especially if the other alien’s feelings are shared among their race.

  “Jinum—leader.” Rilon nods.

  I suck in a breath. “Ready,” I declare.

  He steps forward and waves his hand in front of the door where the jinum supposedly waits. It dissolves to reveal the room beyond. I was expecting maybe some thrones or dramatic floating council chairs, but what I find is…one man? Well, an alien to be exact. He’s sitting in front of a metal desk, with what looks like holo screens hovering in front of him, but when he sees us he presses something and it all disappears.

  He’s a pale green and the deep lines around his mouth and eyes betray his age. “Please, come in.” He gestures at the seats around the desk and I pick one to the left, Rilon to the right.

  He settles back in his chair and when I glance down at the floor, I see his tail wrapped around the leg. I guess I will never get used to the whole tail thing.

  “You are from Nova, correct?” the jinum asks, watching me with interest. I see no malice like the other alien...more curiosity.

  “Nova?” I echo, confused.

  He frowns, his head tilting like an animal, before he waves his hand and the screen comes up. “Show me Nova,” he orders and the screen changes, moving faster than I can see through what looks like a 3D map of space.

  Earth, slowly spinning, appears atop of the desk, and when he waves his hand and pushes, it flies into the middle of the room. The lights dim as a 3D version of our old planet turns mid-air. Standing unhurriedly, I approach it and press my finger closer, but the holo cuts out, only to reappear when I move away. It looks exactly like I remember when I saw it from space as we were moving into orbit. The land is brown and dead, the waters receding. Whole countries and continents gone.

  “Earth,” I whisper, awed by the technology. It looks so real, like I could reach out and hold my planet in my hands.

  “Nova, also known as X-678,” an automated female voice booms and I fall back, looking around. “A primitive planet on the edge of the explored sectors. It is under Galactic protection. A team of explorers deemed it too primitive to be placed into the treaty as of yet and the inhabitants have been left to develop or die. The planet was made almost 4.5 billion years ago. Liquids and land make up the surface with a core in the middle maintaining the planet’s gravity. The gravity from the planet interacts with other objects in space, namely X-679, also known as the moon, and also supernova X-670, which is known locally as the sun.”

  I sit down, listening to the voice rattle off facts about my home planet.
“Humans are the natives of the planet, primates from the Hominidae family, and speak many languages. They trade in monetary items and food, and wars are common and often devastating to the planet. Humans developed primitive nuclear weapons—” A gasp goes around the room and I look at the aliens who look disgusted. “Another mission to check the planet’s status was sent almost fifty cycles ago and found the deterioration of the planet was worse than feared. Humans were killing their planet with waste, weapons, wars, and global warming. Under duress from their own laws, the team left some navigation technology in a place the humans would easily find it in order to offer them escape. It is expected that the planet will be uninhabitable in one hundred years and dead in one hundred and eleven.”

  I sit back as the cold, hard truths disappointed me while I digest their evaluation of our race, and from the looks the aliens are throwing me—they feel the same way. Maybe…maybe we are the primitive race here?

  “When observed, the primates were seen to be quite unique. Their bodies have no natural protections and they are weak and brittle. They only live for an utmost of one hundred and twenty years, but more commonly to the age of eighty or ninety. Their bodies begin to deteriorate and rot, and diseases are prevalent among them. They are hateful and when scared, they become dangerous with weapons they make. Over—”

  “Enough,” I grunt, my voice choked. I don’t want to know any more of what the rest of the known universe thinks of us. It isn’t anything I haven’t thought before, but when faced with the truth in that emotionless, automated voice while being judged by these aliens—I am mortified.

  The jinum waves his hand and the lights come back on, the voice cuts off, and Earth disappears from view. Sighing, I rub my head before looking back at the alien. “If you want to know about us—ask. They might be facts, but they are not the whole truth.”

  “Did you destroy your planet?” he questions, sitting back.

  “Yes,” I answer truthfully. “And all that you found is true. We are a hateful, young species when compared to the rest of the universe, but we are also resilient. We are loving and for the short lives we have, we live it to the fullest. We might not have tails or floating fucking chairs, but what we do have is heart and a never give up attitude.”

  “Your planet is gone, is that why you are here?” he asks, ignoring most of my other statement.

  I deflate, sitting back. “No and yes. We were headed to a planet called Ayama, which humans had colonised, but there were...issues on board, and we crashed into this planet. We meant no harm or to trespass...” I trail off, unsure what to say.

  “Ayama.” He tilts his head in thought. “I have not heard of this planet, but it could be possible that you have named it incorrectly. Nonetheless, it seems you are stuck here.”

  He looks at Rilon and I get to my feet. “We can be useful, we will fix our ship and we have made contact with our people, our ruling government. Until then we will—of course, under your watch and approval—make camp here until we can come up with a new plan.”

  He nods, watching me intently. “You have contacted your people? As have I, the GTP are en-route, they will want to speak to your leaders and will most likely transport you to your destined planet if they see fit. Until then, you are welcome to stay here—but if any of your people harm mine, I will reconsider. Yes?” he states firmly and I sigh, sitting back down.

  “Of course.” I nod. “The same goes for you—you will not harm any of us?”

  He waves his hand like the thought is laughable. “We are a peaceful race, we wish no harm to anyone. What you see here is a newly established farming colony. We were sent to survey the land and likelihood of this planet being our race’s new home. We are...scientists...intellectuals, but do not let that fool you. If we must, we will defend ourselves,” he adds as an afterthought.

  “Understood.” I nod, with more questions popping into my mind, but for once I keep my mouth shut, knowing how fragile this peace is.

  “Good, we have an understanding then—a treaty if you will. If any party is to break it, they will face the full force of the GTP when they arrive. Until then, you are welcome to stay here or we can help you create a camp somewhere,” he offers.

  I nod. “Thank you, that would be wonderful. I will speak to the others. We also need to find other survivors and ships if possible, and I would appreciate your guidance. This is a new world and we do not want to disrupt habitats or sustain injuries which could have been avoided,” I offer, proud of myself.

  “Of course, I would also like to continue to learn more about...humans, and I am sure you have questions about our race. Would it be possible for us to meet once you are settled?” he inquires, his eyes shining, and it’s then I smile, knowing how truthful he was being about them being explorers and scientists. Both Rilon and the jinum want to know more—curious about our race.

  “I would like that.” I smile and he leans back with a nod.

  “Rilon will take you back to your people, then we will bring you food and sort out accommodations—”

  A beep sounds interrupting us and a video appears on screen of another alien.

  “Jinum, I have found a…Novian. I know you sent a message out about a crashed ship and to be on the lookout for survivors. She is saying that her family are out here somewhere. Permission to search and bring them back?” he asks, and I raise my eyebrows. This being able to understand the other survivors is good.

  “Granted, but bring the human back first and we will send out patrols to look for survivors. I will send another to replace you at Outpost Two.” He nods and a blonde head peeks over the alien’s shoulder in sight of the screen, and my heart skips a beat.

  “Effie?” I scream, jumping at the screen.

  She pushes the alien out of the way, her face filling it. “Inds, tell me that’s you!” she replies, tears filling her eyes.

  “It’s me.” I press my face to the screen and she does the same.

  “I thought I’d lost you. I thought—” She sobs and I nod, blinking back tears.

  “It’s going to be okay, I’m okay. Are you? What about Howard?” I look around her, but frown when I don’t spot him.

  “He wasn’t there when I woke up Indy, I-I don’t know where he is or if he made it,” she cries and I pull away, watching the alien hesitate behind her, unsure of what is happening.

  “Find him,” I order and she nods, but I look past her. “Help her find her father, please,” I beg.

  The alien’s eyes fly wide, obviously understanding me, and he looks to the jinum. “Do as she asks,” he confirms behind me.

  “Of course.” He nods, tapping a fist over his heart.

  Effie looks from him to me. “I’ll tell you when you get here.” I smile. “Fuck, I missed you babe. Stay safe,” I demand.

  She laughs, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll try, but it seems I’m a magnet for trouble. I should have guessed after I met you.”

  I laugh too, blinking hard before I look to the alien. “If you hurt her or if she arrives hurt, friends or not, I will kill you,” I warn, and his eyes fly wide before the communication is cut off.

  I sit back in my chair, watching the two aliens who are wary of me now. I grin, I can’t help it. “I am fiercely protective of my family and friends, just a warning.”

  “Can I ask you something, Indy?” Rilon inquires, and we stop in the middle of the hallway.

  I nod and he tilts his head, and sighing with a weary smile, I verbally answer, “Yes.”

  “Is your race really that violent and unpredictable? Already three of your kind tried to resheka us,” he informs me, his eyes seeking answers.

  “Resheka?” I sound out, confused.

  He grunts, looking annoyed at the lack of translation. “End...yes, end us. It is when one of our kind dies in a violent fashion and are not allowed the chance of last rites,” he explains, but it only raises more questions.

  Leaning back against the wall, I voice the thoughts tumbling around in my head.
“Last rites?”

  “You do not have those?” he questions, and he taps his arm. A screen pops up and he starts typing fast before closing it and looking at me again. “It is where we offer ourselves to our Merisheka. Our lives are over in this plane and will continue into the next, without last rites we do not pass over for reincarnation.”

  “Hmm, so it’s like a religious thing,” I conclude.

  “Religious?” he repeats, confused.

  “It’s when a group of people believe in a deity, not always one that they can see or touch. They choose to follow them, offering praise and worship,” I expound.

  “Religious...no, no. It is the way of our people, not a choice,” he clarifies and my eyebrows fly up at that.

  “Okay.” I wave it away, tabling this conversation for another time. “So, you are asking why our people tried to kill you?”

  “Hmm, kill, yes, kill.” He tilts his head, waiting for my answer.

  “They were scared?” I offer.

  “Fear, fear makes them attack people?” he asks, more confused than ever and I sigh again.

  “I suppose when we are scared, sometimes we react without thinking, and when we don’t always understand what we are seeing, we might react with anger and violence rather than thought and understanding. It is a downfall for sure, but I assure you they will not attack your kind again, I will make sure of it.”

  He thinks over my words. “Okay.” He starts walking again and I fall in next to him, shooting him looks every now and again.

  “Okay, just like that?” I inquire.

  “Yes. You were sincere and I can understand the fight or flight method your young species has adapted with, even if it is not the most biologically smart choice, but it does offer you a protection of sorts...so, okay,” he carries on and I laugh.

  “Okay,” I answer.

  He leads me back to the room where everyone else is waiting. We don’t talk on the way, both of us lost in our own thoughts.