by Lee Stephen
But was all of this true?
Svetlana had an uncanny feeling that it wasn’t—at least, not totally. And so she waited for Nagogg’s interrogation of Ed to come to an end, at which point she was certain the Ithini would connect with her mind. She was right.
It took about fifteen additional minutes of waiting, but sure enough, that oddly comforting click from Ed came to her mind again. The connection felt somewhat hesitant, almost as if the alien was trepid about using his powers again. After what had just happened, Svetlana didn’t blame him.
Several seconds after the connection was established, Ed addressed her. Something unexpected happened.
The impulse to be sarcastic was so strong, Svetlana had to bite her lip.
There were no barriers to overcome, said the Ithini. I prepared to break through walls that did not exist. Truth was relayed without reservation.
Looking at the floor to avoid queuing the others in on the fact they were “conversing,” Svetlana replied, I’m not sure I understand.
A sense of stillness and uncertainty was relayed to her. Ed was figuring out how to better explain it. With other species, such as yourself and the Bakma, truth must be ascertained and sometimes deciphered. With this new species, truth is freely given. Reservation is nonexistent.
So they are…truthful?
They know nothing else. Though the deceit concept must exist, it has no bearing on their emotion. I was not prepared for such a free-flowing exchange.
She was still confused. So when you connected to them, their…truthfulness…stunned you?
Ed searched her mind for something to compare it to. She could sense his mental fingers. I was prepared to pry open a door. I popped open a cork.
Well, that worked. So does this mean we will not be able to connect with them?
Incorrect. Connectivity with this species is far more sensitive than connectivity with others. If we do not restrain ourselves, we will receive far more than we may have prepared for.
So we can try it again?
She didn’t even need to wait for his answer to know what it was. The Ithini’s enthusiasm was evident in their connection. He was practically giddy. This presents a new opportunity—further experimentation is highly desirable.
At least he was motivated.
I will inform Nagogg that I wish to eat. I will take your connection with me down the halls of the Noboat, at which point I will attempt a second connection with the new species when I am in closer proximity. I anticipate differing results.
Smirking, she responded, You’d better hope you get differing results, for your sake. You don’t want to be passed out in the hall.
Agreed. Without a shred of hesitation, Ed approached Nagogg’s chair to make the query.
So this was going to be something new. It was easy to forget, with their vastly differing appearances, how similar humans and Bakma could be on an emotional level. They shared similar feelings, right down to laughter and zeal. Now, Svetlana was about to communicate with a species that was, for lack of a better way to comprehend it, overwhelmingly honest, at least emotionally. Why were they this way? Was it just the way they were raised? A result of traditions and customs? Were their minds incapable of emotional dishonesty? She had no idea what to make of this—but she knew she was about to find out.
Granting Ed’s request to be excused, Nagogg returned his focus fully to the bridge while the Ithini walked out of the door. Closing her eyes again, Svetlana waited.
Second attempt imminent, Ed relayed.
Conveying her approval, Svetlana waited for the click to return. She didn’t have to wait long. Once again, simultaneous with the unmistakable feeling of shared consciousness, came a sudden urge to flee—that flight-or-fight response that bordered on sheer panic. Svetlana’s heart beat faster. Her adrenaline levels ramped. Just as it had the first time, the tidal wave of emotion threatened to overtake her.
Then, there was a pull.
She sensed it, not from the untapped alien, but from Ei`dorinthal again. The Ithini was pulling away from the three-way connection. Not pulling out—just putting some distance between them. He was building up barriers of his own.
Exhaling quietly, Svetlana waited as the flight-or-fight subsided. As her stress level decreased, she took a firmer and firmer grasp on her own emotions—her own fear, her own desire to break free from the shackles that bound her. Her desire to go home. The rush from the connection had churned all of those desires up from the depths of her ocean. For as advanced as this new species was—as it must have been—this was a vulnerability the likes of which Svetlana couldn’t comprehend. To be totally unguarded. How could one live that way?
As the peace came back to her, so did Ed’s voice in her mind. Entry has been made. I am grasping her subconscious.
Her. Ed had connected with the female. Though gender roles meant little to nothing when dealing with a new alien species on what may have been the other side of the galaxy, there was something comforting about the prospect of Svetlana talking to another woman. She missed that—even if the closest woman to her on Earth, Esther, was also her biggest rival.
They are not unlike you, said Ed. Their minds are of similar construct to both the Earthae and Bakma. Communication will not be difficult.
Svetlana hadn’t considered any other possibility, though the thought struck her then that perhaps she should have. To be connected to a completely unrelatable being. How would that have been? Does she know you are there?
She is convulsing.
Blinking, Svetlana asked, Convulsing?
She is a vulnerable specimen experiencing her first connections. You and your comrades have had similar experiences upon your firsts.
The thought of an Ithini connection making one sick was almost strange to her, though Ed was right. First-time connections were head-spinning, nauseating. Only through time and exposure did those feelings subside to the point that Svetlana had reached now. Now there were no side effects at all.
The Ithini’s voice surfaced again. She is aware of my presence. She is panicking. You will not feel it.
Thank you, Ed.
I am attempting to soothe her while processing her language. Please be patient.
If it meant being able to communicate effectively with this alien, Svetlana had no problem being patient at all. Take whatever time you need. A sense of affirmation came, and Ei`dorinthal went to work.
As she waited for Ed to process the alien’s language, she thought back to her own experience as a human discovering that she—that humanity—wasn’t alone in the cosmos. Svetlana was eighteen when the attack on Hong Kong took place. Compared to the experience she had today, she was just a child. Beyond the obvious fear caused by the attack, there was an inherent fear that simply came with seeing an extraterrestrial for the first time. It was terrifying. The Bakma were hideous as much in their similarities to humans as their differences. Until that moment, mankind had always held a monopoly in sentience—yet here was something else from a place far away. That they existed at all was more frightening to her than the obvious threat of alien invasion. It meant her species didn’t know as much as it thought it did.
She remembered being more frightened of the Ithini than the Bakma. The Ithini, from a distance, looked almost like starving children, until they turned and gazed at you with those oversized, black eyes, and that hairless, oval head. The way they stared, it was like they were looking into your soul. They were straight out of a night terror.
That was a long time ago, and the fear of simply seeing an extraterrestrial had long-since vanished. Having dealt with monsters like the canrassi and necrilid had a way of mentally preparing one for the possibility of seeing anything and everything. Even these new captive beings didn’t instill a feeling of fear so much as they did curiosity at just how many sentient species were out there among the stars. Though not immune from a fear of the unknown—for the potential of going to Khuladi was utterly horrifying—she was not fearful of what she’d see so f
ar as what she’d experience.
But there was no mistaking what she’d seen in the eyes of the captured aliens that Nagogg’s henchmen dragged onto the bridge. They had never seen a human, or an Ithini, or a Bakma, or a canrassi. The looks in their eyes, alien or not, were of abject horror. This was their night terror, coming to life.
Svetlana needed to be sensitive to that. She needed to be mindful of the fact that, in the scope of the conversation they were about to have, it was she who was the visiting species. She was the extraterrestrial making contact. If she didn’t hold tight to that understanding, she could overwhelm these beings even more.
Ei`dorinthal’s voice reemerged in her mind. I am prepared to open the door for you to speak. Further processing requires experience. There may be inaccuracies.
She could live with that. She thought. Just don’t confuse my, “hello,” with, “I’m going to eat you.”
I will try.
From her spot on the bridge floor, Svetlana smirked.
Opening the door.
Bracing for whatever it was that was going to come next—for first contact with a new species—Svetlana held her breath and thought a prayer. Please let this work. The connection widened. She could feel the new presence merge into it. The fear was still there—it was still strong—but it wasn’t panic. Ed had done his job.
Svetlana went still. Everything around her seemed to go quiet, as if she were walking in the middle of the forest and all noise had suddenly stopped. As if the other animals knew they weren’t alone.
She wasn’t alone.
The third presence manifested in her consciousness. She sensed it coalescing with her thoughts and those of Ei`dorinthal. The three of them were now merged. With no formal training on how to approach such an encounter, Svetlana simply did what felt natural—to begin in the only way she knew how.
Hello.
There was a shrinking back—a startled reaction from the other being. Svetlana quickly followed up.
Do not be afraid. I am a captive here, like you. All she knew to do was to communicate in the same way she did with the Ithini and Bakma she’d held connections with and hope that it worked. Though Ed warned of inaccuracies, she wanted to keep them to a minimum. This exchange needed to be kept as simple as possible.
A loud reverberation came forth, echoing violently in Svetlana’s mind as it swirled—like many languages being merged into one. It was almost discombobulating. A voice emerged amid the maelstrom. Unseen voice.
Ed addressed Svetlana quickly. She is speaking these things aloud in the brig. She believes you are there.
That could be bad. Hurriedly, Svetlana addressed the being again. Do not speak out loud. I am not in the room with you. I am speaking through your mind. Confusion emerged. The being didn’t understand. This was going to be harder than Svetlana thought.
Again, Ed spoke. Though she is aware of another presence in her mind, she does not know there are two of us. She believes she is communicating with a single entity.
It was probably best to keep it that way. The last thing Svetlana wanted to do was overwhelm this poor creature even more than she knew it already was. For now, keep yourself hidden. I will reveal you when she becomes more used to this.
As you wish.
Focusing her thoughts on the being again, Svetlana continued in her attempt to communicate. I am speaking to you through telepathy. So much for keeping it simple. Do you understand this term?
The swirling of language returned, echoes of voices she’d never heard before phasing in and out of her awareness, trying to surface. The noise ended without a response from the being.
Frowning a bit, Svetlana returned to basic concepts. Do not speak. Only think.
Briefly, the noise in her mind returned, though it faded quickly into the background of the bridge. Though no words were spoke to her, a feeling was conveyed. The being understood.
Now, they were getting somewhere. Again, Ed cut through the connection. Vocal processes may be difficult to maintain until I have further acclimated to her language.
That’s okay, Svetlana answered. As long as I can feel what she’s feeling, I believe I will be able to say what I need.
As you wish.
Again, she focused on the being. My name is Setana, and I am a human. In the galaxy, we are known as the Earthae. Even that term—Earthae—was growing more familiar. So far as referring to herself as “Setana,” Svetlana hadn’t even noticed that she’d done it. I was stolen from my planet, Earth, and imprisoned here, as you have been. I am not your enemy. Her words sounded simplistic—at least to herself. She hoped the alien understood.
There was a delay, but a second feeling of understanding came to her.
Svetlana smiled. Progress. Communicating effectively with this being was going to be a challenge, that much was certain, but at least it didn’t seem insurmountable. If this level of slow and steady pacing was what it took to effectively communicate, then this was what she’d maintain. She kept right on. The species that attacked you are called the Bakma. The moment she spoke of them, a feeling of heat swelled within her. The being was angry. I am sorry for what they did to you. I could not stop them.
Suddenly, a mental image came to her mind. It was vague, more like a memory and nowhere near as striking as the visions she’d received from Ed courtesy of Nagogg, but it was still there. It was an image of her—Svetlana—bound to the floor on the bridge. The recollection lasted but a moment before fading.
Svetlana wasn’t sure if the transfer of the mental image was intended, but she knew what was going on: the being was trying to recall Svetlana from its experience on the bridge. It was trying to figure out which one she was. Though there seemed little doubt in the moment, Svetlana acknowledged just the same. Yes, that is me.
A peace came over her. The being understood.
I was tortured here—they… She stopped herself. The being didn’t need to hear this. That would do little more than frighten it further. It was better to go in a different direction altogether. Not all of the Bakma are bad. There is one imprisoned in the room with you. His name is Tauthin—he is good.
Hesitance. Perhaps the first hint of suspicion. The being wasn’t ready to believe that.
You need not worry about him. He is of no threat to you. At least that much, the being couldn’t argue with—not so long as Tauthin was chained to the wall. Some of the crew are loyal to their leader, while others think he is wrong. I am trying to get them to work together with me to free us so that we can escape. It must have seemed a pitiful hope to cling to, with Svetlana clasped against the floor of the bridge with little room to even lift her head and look around, let alone rise up and lead a revolution. She almost hesitated mentioning that at all, at the risk of being laughed off as she’d been with Tauthin and Kraash-nagun. As it turned out, however, she was received quite differently this time.
An energy pulsed through the connection—an excitement. Her words had not been taken lightly. The being was…hopeful. Perhaps it didn’t know her well enough, yet. Perhaps it didn’t judge her by outward appearances. Whichever was true, to have her intentions taken seriously was a pure relief. It was about time. Please give me time. I will do what I can, I promise.
Yigôzien, invoker of custom, fel'dinstra Viil-Astrul.
Svetlana blinked. The words were as clear as daylight in her mind, as if they’d just been spoken to her like in any other connection. The being’s voice was…beautiful. Almost melodious. But what did her words mean? She didn’t need to ask it out loud; Ei`dorinthal answered it for her.
I believe that is her name.
Her name? Invoker of custom? Was that one of those inaccuracies Ed warned her about? It sure hadn’t sounded like one—and frankly, it didn’t matter. Inaccuracy or not, Svetlana had just been given a greeting. That was something to be happy about.
Kalar. Kalarael.
Yigôzien’s words drifted through her mind like a wind, delicately touching the medic’s sense of understanding. It
was her homeworld, her species. The Kalarael. Their introduction was complete. Thank you, Yigôzien. The sense of acceptance returned—the Kalarael acknowledged.
More than ever now, the sense that an escape was inevitable was strong in Svetlana’s mind. This was not chance. These beings were here for a purpose—they’d been placed there, for Svetlana to find, for a purpose. Even on the other side of the galaxy, even with every odd stacked against her on a ship whose crew reviled her belief in the “Earthae God,” God was there.
Yigôzien could sense Svetlana’s thoughts. Though the intricacies of religion were surely too advanced for this still-developing connection, the Kalarael could no doubt sense that the anticipation in Svetlana was swelling. Yigôzien returned that feeling with her own.
It is difficult to maintain this connection, said Ed, the Ithini’s exhaustion palpable. My mind tires.
Inadvertently, on the bridge, Svetlana nodded. Thank you, Ei`dorinthal, for what you have done. Rest your mind—I will tell Yigôzien that this connection must close.
As you wish.
Returning the focus of her mind on the imprisoned Kalarael, Svetlana said, I will connect with you again, Yigôzien. We will be free.
The Kalarael’s voice returned. For my people, revenge.
Ever so faintly, Svetlana’s eyes narrowed. Revenge. It was perhaps the most basic of concepts—the desire to strike back at one who wronged. She could scarcely think of a more befitting situation than the one she and the two Kalarael prisoners were in now. Closing her eyes as she lowered her forehead to the Noboat’s metal floor, Svetlana waited for Ed to close the connection. Moments later, it was done.
Svetlana’s own head felt fatigued—she could only imagine how taxing this connection must have been for Ei`dorinthal. In the midst of everything happening around her, the Ithini’s faithfulness to their escape plan—or at least, the process that was working its way toward one—stood out as a rare bright spot in the darkness of uncharted space. More so than Tauthin, more so than Kraash-nagun, Ed had earned Svetlana’s admiration. The Ithini was doing his part when few others seemed inclined to take action. She would always remember him for that.
