by GARY DARBY
Dason kept running. One part of his mind told him that he hadn’t heard the scouter take off. That could only mean that Alena and her father hadn’t made it to the craft. Even as he ran for his own life, he felt deep sorrow at the loss of Alena.
Another of his team lost, and now he was the last.
Though it appeared that he too, would soon join his scout mates in death.
Ahead, Dason could see several large, tall boulders set against the ravine bank. He would set his back there and make his last stand. With a final burst, Dason sprinted for the protection of the misshapen granite-looking rocks.
He knew he didn’t have much of a chance, even with the rock’s protection. He couldn’t outrun the wolf creatures and his stunner was growing low on charge.
It would boil down to his knife against the vicious canines’ slicing fangs.
He was almost to the rocks when a large Jakuta stepped out from behind the boulders. With his teeth bared almost in a snarl, the alien whipped his weapon up.
With a sickening feeling, Dason knew the blast would catch him full-force and there was absolutely nothing he could do except wait for the blast to rip him apart.
The star creature leveled his weapon and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Star Date: 2443.064
Unnamed planet in the Helix Nebula
Slicing by Dason’s head, the thin scarlet energy bolt passed so close that it felt like a flaming torch seared his skin.
Before the alien could fire again, Dason lunged to one side, rolled, and trained his weapon on the big alien.
The XT’s energy weapon fired again, and again, but not at Dason. Yelps of pain filled the ravine.
Dason spun around to find several wolf-fiends writhing in agony just meters behind him. As if a thunderbolt had struck him, Dason realized that the Jakuta hadn’t shot at him, but at the canine devils on his heels.
The rapid bursts of energy fire from the Jakuta’s weapon slowed the charging animals, long enough for the XT to stride forward and stand next to Dason.
Surprised for an instant at the alien’s actions, Dason hesitated before he too leveled his L-gun and fired. In a wave, the crazed animals charged at the two.
Almost immediately, Dason’s stunner went dead and in one swift motion; his long knife was in his hand.
Five of the creatures, like a brown tide of pure fury, crashed into the big alien, spinning him to the ground. The Jakuta bellowed and thrashed at the crazed canines. The big alien fought for his life under the snapping jaws of the crazed creatures who were at the XT’s throat.
Whipping around, Dason slashed at the animals with his sharp blade, feeling his knife go deep into muscle and strike bone. Two beasts went down under Dason’s onslaught but three more remained.
With a roar, the alien threw off his attackers, jumped to his feet and yanked out his two short swords, their metallic sapphire sheen gleaming in the sunlight. In quick work, the dogs paid the ultimate price for their attack but more were joining the fray.
Back to back, Dason and the alien turned to fight the enraged animals. Their blades almost sang while they sliced through the air. One beast sank its teeth into Dason's knee, another into his forearm, but before they could rip into flesh again, they joined their dead comrades.
For long minutes, the desperate fight continued until, without a sound, the pack pulled away, to slink back up the ravine. Breathing hard, Dason bent over with his hands on his knees, his muscles shaking from the exertion.
Around him and the alien lay a pile of carcasses, but for now they had held off the brutal beasts. Breathing hard, Dason had to wonder if he and the Jakuta could withstand another attack like that.
It seemed unlikely.
When the last of the wolflike canines slipped over the ravine’s lip, the Jakuta sheathed his weapons, put his back against a boulder, and eased himself down to a sitting position.
From the gory rips and deep slashes about the hulking body, Dason could see that the alien had endured the most from the attack. His blood was a dark burgundy that flowed from several gaping wounds.
Dason lifted his eyes from the bloody gashes to gaze into the XT’s eyes. There was more than intelligence behind those eyes; there was something else—not hostility, but an expression almost of respect and satisfaction.
Shaking his head in bewilderment, Dason wiped away sweat from his brow. From the moment the alien had appeared, he had expected that the XT would try and take his life, not fight side by side and save him from a gruesome death.
Still unsure of the situation but seeing that the extraterrestrial wasn’t intent on continuing the fight amongst themselves, he slowly slid his knife into its scabbard.
Gaining his breathing back, he turned to gaze back toward the hilltop and a profound sense of loss swept over him. It was evident that Alena hadn’t made it to the scouter.
If she had, she would have swung the craft toward them and used it to affect a rescue. That it hadn’t appeared was proof enough that she and her father had died under the fangs of the dogs.
Dason ran a hand through his sweaty and gritty hair. He hadn’t known Alena like Shanon and the others but toward the last, he felt that they had shared a deep sense of comradeship and that made her death even harder to take.
With a final farewell in his heart to Alena, he turned back to the alien and just for an instant, he thought of sprinting away, leaving the XT to fight the pack alone when it returned.
However, even while he wrestled with the idea of escaping, a stronger conviction told him to stay, that running away wasn’t the right thing to do.
In hesitant steps, with hands held out in what he hoped was an open and nonhostile gesture, he came to stand, and then sit a few paces away from the Jakuta. He brought out his medical kit and motioned at the alien’s wounds and then to the soft pouch.
Dason was aware that his own wounds needed attention; nevertheless, he felt obligated to tend to the Jakuta’s injuries first. He reached into the kit and brought out the tube of InstaHeal and some sterile gauze. Applying a little bit to the swab, he then pantomimed what he wanted to do.
The alien followed his actions with an almost humanlike expression of curiosity before waving a large pawlike hand and pushing away Dason’s offering.
From a side carryall pocket of his flared forest-green pants, he pulled out a small, flat boxlike pack. He pressed one corner and the top rolled back.
He grasped several sheets of transparent material and applied a layer of the sticky substance to each of his wounds. On contact, each piece became opaque and then hardened. The alien material bonded to the creature’s skin and in a matter of seconds cauterized the wound, stopping the bleeding.
The XT gestured at Dason’s wounds and offered one of the sheets. Dason considered the proposal but held up a hand in a gesture that he hoped the Jakuta would interpret as a polite refusal.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the offer, but the fact was that Dason didn’t know how his own metabolism would react to the alien’s medical drugs.
For all he knew, he could have a violent, perhaps fatal, reaction to the alien’s medicines though, from its appearance, the tissue like material appeared harmless.
Instead, he nursed his wounds from his own med kit while the alien watched with interest. Once Dason finished treating the last of his gashes, the alien reached into another side pouch and pulled out a triangular device with a dark, almost ebony shine to its surface.
He touched two spots on the black exterior. Clamshell flaps opened and the alien reached in and brought out two small silvery half-halo metallic strips.
The extraterrestrial deftly pulled on the ends and the strips telescoped out, tripling their length. He placed one on the crown of his head and after making slight adjustments to the second halo, handed it to Dason. The alien made motions for Dason to fit it on his head similar to his own.
With some reluctance, Dason fitted the halo device over his cranium,
mimicking the alien who placed his own form-fitting strip from temple to temple.
The XT reached over to the small machine and pushed at several points on the inside. After growling for a few moments in his own language, he turned to Dason and made signs for Dason to speak.
Dason stared at the alien before saying, “You—want me to talk?” The XT put a hand to his lips and then gestured toward Dason’s mouth.
Nodding in sudden understanding, Dason said, “You’re trying to communicate with me. Somehow this device will—”
The alien held up a hand, stopping Dason while he reached over and touched the triangular device in several places. Then, he motioned for Dason to continue speaking, all the while giving the young scout several almost humanlike nods.
Nodding back, Dason started to speak and then stopped, his mouth hanging half open. He stayed that way for several seconds while he stared at the alien.
“I can’t believe this,” he snorted and threw his hands up in consternation. “I should be making some profound statement on behalf of humankind, but I can’t think of anything to say.”
Running a hand over his eyes and forehead, Dason tried to push the blankness in his mind aside. He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t come up with the right words.
The adrenaline rush of their flight from the Jakuta, the physical pounding, the loss of his team, of Alena and her father’s attempt to have him killed, contact with Alpha Prime; all became jumbled together in a flashing cascade of incoherent thoughts.
He willed himself to slow his racing heart and mind. He took a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate. “Let’s try this again,” he began, “You want me to say something, to speak—”
“Yes—speak.” Dason gave a little start when he heard the alien’s growls turn into Interstellar Common Language. The Jakuta spoke again, which Dason heard as, “Speech . . . I understand.”
Dason almost gasped and his eyes widened. “Your machine is learning my language and translating it for both of us.”
“Yes,” the XT replied. “Speak. More.”
Dason cleared his throat and said, “I am Dason Thorne. I am a human being and a Star Scout, an explorer, from the Terran Imperium. We search out new worlds, to learn, to expand our knowledge and understanding of the universe and our place within it.
“We are a peaceful race but will defend ourselves when necessary.
“Ah, good!” the alien answered. “I think the sensator has your language mapped out.”
Staring at the XT, Dason couldn’t stop the hurt from flooding back. His mouth contorted into a scowl. “No!” he growled, the pain washing over mind and body. “What am I doing? Sitting down with you, after what you did to my teammates. I should—”
The alien held up a hand, stopping Dason while he peered intently at the young man, an almost humanlike expression of concern on his hairy face. “Hold, human Dason Thorne, we have done nothing to your people.”
Dason balled his fists up. He croaked out in anger, “Nothing?! You attacked us, held us captive; chased us through the forest and because of you, my friends died!”
He took a deep breath, chopped at the air with one hand, and began to rise. “I can’t stay here, I left one of my teammates up on the hill. Those wolf things cut us off, and she might be alive. I have to go back for her.”
Even as the words rushed out of him, Dason knew in his heart that Alena had no more chance of surviving the canines’ attack than an ice cube thrown into the sun could survive for one second.
“Wait, Dason Thorne,” the XT called out. His voice carried weight, authority as if he were used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
His expression changed, and Dason sensed sadness coming from the XT. The alien leaned toward him and said, “I do not know about your friends but if they have indeed fought their last fight, then I sorrow with you.
“As far as the one you left behind, I pray that she escaped but know this, it is rare even among my own people to survive the attack of such a large pack.
“For you, there is no going back to that place. I have battled these devil dogs many times, and I tell you that most likely, you and I are not leaving this place alive.
“Even now, the pack has us encircled. They wait for more of their foul kind before completing the deed.”
Pausing, he then said, “I am truly sorry for your loss. May their names ring three times in honor in the hallowed halls of their ancestors.”
The alien leaned back and gave out an audible sigh. “It will take the dogs some little time before they have sufficient numbers, so we can rest for now.”
At a sudden melodious tone from the device, he took the halo off his head and laid it aside. “The sensator has imprinted our two languages on our minds, we no longer need these. I can understand you; you will be able to comprehend me.”
Dason took off his own halo and put it next to the ebony box. The alien gestured to Dason and said, “Please. Sit. Let us talk and reason together. I suspect that we have much to say to each other.”
Dason’s mouth dropped open, and he said, “I can understand you perfectly.”
“Yes, and from this time on, you will be able to understand the speech of my people. They will of course, need to be imprinted with your language to understand you.”
Dason hesitated and turned to look back at the high knoll where he had left Alena. In the far distance, he could make out several wolf shapes, slinking in and out of the tall grass.
He had to admit that the XT was right; there was little chance that he could fight his way back. Not with just a knife.
Dason ran a hand over his forehead, wiping away a few drops of sweat and turned back to the Jakuta. Sitting down across from the alien, he said, “I’m willing to listen, but I’m not sure I’ll believe you, so go ahead and talk.”
The alien grunted in response. “I am called Tor’al, human Dason. My people are the Sha’anay Clans of the Three Free Worlds. I thank you for coming to my aid.”
His rumble came out almost like a chuckle, and he said, pointing at the slain wolflike canines, “One or two of the beast things I can easily handle, but three or more, well, I am not as young as I once was.”
He gazed at Dason in such an intent manner that Dason couldn’t help but feel that the alien was sizing him up before coming to judgment. Dason didn’t flinch from the intense scrutiny, nor did he avert his eyes from the alien’s penetrating stare.
One corner of Tor’al’s mouth lifted in a humanlike smile of approval as he said, “Among my people, when two fight alongside each other, and particularly, if there is a saving of a life, it will be as though we are kinsmen, of the same House and Clan.
“I have saved you, you have saved me. To you I say, we have fought together.”
He ran several fingers through the fur like hair that covered his prominent cheeks. “Now, tell me, of what do you anger? You see, the sensator not only allows us to comprehend each other’s speech, it will also share the emotion that goes with the words.”
Dason peered at Tor’al. He didn’t feel any falsity in the alien’s statement, nor did he feel as if there was any guile behind his speech either.
Still, they had taken humans captive, chased them through the forest. Actions and deeds often spoke louder than words.
He ran his tongue over dry and cracked lips and said, “We answered a distress call from one of our ships. We sent down several teams to try and locate them. Your people attacked mine, took away their weapons, their communicators, held them hostage.”
Hesitating, he again felt the pain, the loss, before saying, “Though we freed them later on, some of them are now dead because of your people.”
Tor’al was silent for some time before he said, “Human Dason, I tell you truthfully, I am sorry for your loss. It is always hard to lose one’s comrades, especially those that are close and have shared the travails of battle with you.
“But I also tell you truthfully, we did not take your clansmen hostage to harm
you. We were trying to help you, to save you from the evil ones.”
Dason furrowed his brow and for long seconds stared at the alien before he said, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
Dason tried not to sound irate, but his voice quivered from his anger. “You took some of us from our ship and held them in the forest. Not only me people, but another race as well.
“I know, I saw the camp and all of the hostages. After we freed our companions, you hunted us in the woods, trying to capture us again. So, exactly what were you saving us from?”
“Not what,” Tor’al replied in a calm voice. “Whom. The Mongans.”
“The Mongans?” Dason questioned.
“Yes,” Tor’al responded. “The Mongans. Since you were at the camp, you should know them. You set three of them free.”
He paused and took a deep breath. “And after my comrades had paid a dear price for their capture.”
Dason rocked back. Tor’al was speaking of the three little aliens!
“You’re talking about the smaller . . . beings that were in the camp.”
“Indeed,” Tor’al replied. “Our warriors paid for their capture in blood.”
Dason sucked in a breath as he recalled Nase’s description of the sharp battle around Alena’s ship and the bodies lying in the grass.
He shook his head. “And you were saving us from them? That’s a little hard to believe. From what I saw, they were pretty helpless.”
Tor’al’s lips curved back, almost in a snarl before he said, “Then let me try and explain from the beginning.”
He raised a hand upward. “What do you call the complete revolution of a planet such as this?”
“A ‘day’ is the common name,” Dason replied.
“And one complete circuit of the planet around its star?”
“Umm,” Dason mumbled, realizing that the Imperium had several ways to mark a planet’s passage around its primary but if he tried to explain the nuances it might become confusing. “Let’s just call it a ‘year’ that would be easiest.”
