Wars

by Alex Deva

  “I’ll be…“ began Aram, and then the door collapsed into the floor, revealing their friendly alien on the other side.

  “…damned,“ finished the Dacian, looking up at the creature, who was over one metre taller. “Hello again.“

  The alien swayed in agreement when he saw them wearing their helmets, and as he turned and walked away, he took off his and put it in his precious bag. They walked in silence through a dark, rectangular and very tall corridor, which enlarged to make room for several large, multicoloured ovoids.

  “Taxi service,“ said Zi, recognising the same type of vehicles which had brought them there. The tall alien approached one, and an opening appeared in its side; all three stepped inside. The ubiquitous water came all the way up to their ankles, even inside the capsule.

  The opening shut and the vehicle set gently in motion. There were no windows and no way to appreciate how fast they were going, but they travelled for a good few minutes until they felt a slight deceleration and the opening presented itself again.

  They got out into a huge hall, and as they went around their transport, they saw Effo, with over a dozen aliens crawling all over it.

  “Hey,“ yelled Aram from inside his helmet. “Get off!“

  Their host quickly walked ahead of them and engaged in some kind of dialogue with the others, who began to notice the humans and stopped everything they were doing in what must have been the alien version of pure amazement.

  Ignoring them, the Dacian walked to his ship and climbed up. The otherwise smooth surface gripped gently at his feet to prevent him losing his balance, and let go just at the right time, returning to its previous smoothness. Zi noticed that a few of the alien engineers began pointing at the phenomenon, but that was nothing compared to what happened once the cockpit opened, Aram stepped down in it, and it shut again.

  First, the engineers froze; then, half of them jumped on ken Selloa, while the other half surrounded Aram, in what he immediately perceived as a menacing fashion.

  “Easy there,“ he mumbled. “I’m still here and I won’t be going anywhere. Even if I want to.“

  And then, the cockpit opened again, and Aram waved, and some of the tension disappeared. He climbed out, still waving; the cockpit closed, and the Dacian jumped down, walking through the clot of aliens as if he’d been doing that all his life (“excuse me,“ he offered to one of them), and touched Zi’s boot with his.

  “Doina’s back,“ he said. “With Doi.“

  The Albanian exhaled with relief. “Things are finally looking up,“ he said.

  “And get this. Wait, how do I… right, good.“

  Suddenly noise invaded Zi’s headsets, as his suit radio came on. He heard… English voices. He looked around in surprise; the only humans in the huge hall, probably on the entire planet, were Aram and himself. So, who…

  And then, things fell into place.

  “Our suit radios,“ he said. “We’re sending everything to Doi…“

  “…via Effo…“

  “…and Doi is sending us back English translations.“

  “How fucking awesome is that?“ Aram’s expression betrayed none of his glee as he pretended to inspect a seam on his glove.

  “Both of them, and their ship, are now using radio,“ said a voice.

  “Hardly surprising,“ said another.

  “It’s encrypted,“ said a third voice.

  “How do you know? They could be speaking plainly for all we know.“

  The second voice came on again. “Well, I suggest you get to work decrypting it. The Table needs to know what they are saying.“ This was, the men realised, their alien — the one who had been with them earlier. A puzzling statement, given that he plainly could understand what they were saying.

  “Yes, General,“ said a few voices at once.

  As Aram approached the alien, five or six of the others turned to face him.

  “Watch out,“ said a few.

  Wordlessly, the Dacian gesticulated with one arm towards the one they had called General, and pointed with the other towards a more secluded part of the huge hangar, in a universal invitation to move over. The great creature followed, or at least did its best to step slowly enough.

  “We need to talk,“ said Aram.

  The alien turned his back to the engineers and Effo, and produced his white box again. The Dacian repeated.

  “I know,“ said the alien.

  “We can understand you,“ said the Dacian.

  The alien froze. He turned the box with the opening towards him, and he put his long hand inside.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your toy,“ continued Aram. “We can understand you. We need to talk.“

  In a very human gesture, the alien glanced over the shoulder; a few of the engineers were still staring at them.

  “Come,“ he said, leading them back to the vehicle.

  “Hey,“ yelled one of the aliens.

  “Hurry,“ said the General.

  “Hey, wait!“

  They got into the colourful ovoid and, when it left, the acceleration was distinctly stronger.

  “Where are we going?“ asked Zi.

  The alien turned towards him. “How can you possibly understand me?“ he said.

  “How could you understand us earlier?“

  The soldier had not meant this as a counter-question, but apparently it had the effect of silencing the alien, who seemed to concede one secret in exchange for another.

  “I’m First Lieutenant Erbardh Xhaka, and this is… Aram.“

  “Top ken Selloa.“

  “Call me Zi. What do I call you? Top?“

  “That will do fine, Zi, Aram. Who are you? Where do you come from?“

  “I can understand your curiosity, but first, tell me where we’re going.“

  “Nowhere. The vehicle is moving in a random pattern, which will provide us some privacy on the short term, and attract attention on the ever so slightly longer term.“

  Zi gazed sidelong at Aram. “Why are we running?“ he asked.

  “We’re not running. I am merely trying to save you the trouble of more company that you might feel comfortable with.“

  “But you were giving orders earlier. Aren’t you a general?“

  The alien looked from one to the other. “Sure,“ he said. “I am General Lord ken Selloa.“

  Zi raised his eyebrows, making quick eye contact with Aram.

  “And who are you?“ repeated the alien.

  “We’re… travellers looking to meet someone.“

  That made ken Selloa stop again and look from one to another. He swayed up and down, left and right, and finally said, matter-of-factly:

  “You came to meet Ambassador Jox.“

  XLI.

  “Doi says this link is private all the way to Effo, and we have to trust our earthly science enough to assume that we’re speaking privately,“ said Mark in Aram and Zi’s headsets.

  “How’s Doina?“ asked Aram.

  “I’m fine,“ answered the girl directly. “Hello. I’m looking into what happened. But I feel alright.“

  “Ask him how he knows that you’re there to meet Jox,“ said Mark.

  “We were just going to do that,“ said Aram. “But hey, it’s good to hear both of you.“

  “What makes you think that?“ asked Zi, loudly.

  Top ken Selloa leaned backwards — they were all sitting on the floor, which appeared to be the norm — and said, finally:

  “Let us call it credible source. What do you want with her?“

  “How about we trade,“ said Zi. “You give us something, we give you something.“

  The alien swayed. “Fair enough,“ he said. “Then I will give you a lot, and I will expect you to give me equally much. I can understand you thanks to this,“ he continued, indicating the white device. “It is a private communication tool.“

  “Who’s on the other end?“

  “A collaborator. Who, at the same time, is connected to the Diplomatic Com
plex.“

  Aram and Zi looked at each other, and spoke at unison:

  “Rrapi.“

  “What?“

  “A clever setup,“ said Zi, ignoring him. “You sent whatever we were saying to your friend, who was passing it along to the Complex minders, who already know English, and who put the translation right into your buddy’s mind, who then simply repeated it to you.“

  “That’s quite clever indeed,“ said Mark, to them only.

  “I would not call it simple,“ said ken Selloa, “and neither was it simple to pay the fortune that it costs.“

  “Good to see that bribe is alive and well in all ages and on all planets,“ said Aram.

  “Quite. Your turn, now. Where are you from?“

  “We call it Earth. At least in this language.“

  “It must be very far away. Our knowledge of nearby space is quite extensive. How did the two of you travel in what is obviously a one-person ship?“

  “You probably won’t believe this, but this big guy here,“ said Aram pointing at Zi, “flew all alone and by his fat self.“

  The alien made a vague gesture with his left hand.

  “That is impossible. He fell freely through the atmosphere, that much we saw ourselves, but he could not have travelled interstellar distances with nothing but a space suit.“

  They said nothing to that.

  “It obviously follows that you have a larger ship somewhere in the neighbourhood,“ continued ken Selloa, unperturbed. “A ship which remains undetectable, although that does not matter since we now know it is there.“

  Still, they said nothing.

  “A ship with the ability to travel and remain undetected, and yet only capable of dispatching one small shuttle. A ship with more crew left on board.“

  Aram resisted the need to glance at Zi.

  “A ship so advanced that it can travel fast enough for whatever it is you are seeking to still be actual by the time of your return, and yet a ship that cannot contact Ambassador Jox by conventional means. Or,“ he continued, looking fixedly ahead, “it fails in doing so, on account of Ambassador Jox being currently… unwillingly isolated, on orders from the Chief of Warfare, which somehow resulted in two aliens splashing in the middle of the sea, seemingly without a clue about the good ambassador’s status and location.“

  “This guy is too good to be true,“ said Mark. “I’ve worked with generals, and none of them was so clever.“

  “Should I continue?“ asked ken Selloa. “Earth happens to also be the place of origin of two recent newcomers on the Complex, who burned through their quota running from embassy to embassy, asking for…“

  He made a pause here, and said, separately: fine, pay him; then he waited, and then, he froze.

  “No.“

  The two men stared at him silently.

  “You cannot possibly be here looking for help against the Squares.“

  “Well, that’s another card on the table,“ whispered Mark.

  “Ah,“ began Zi. “Sorry, what was it you said about the ambassador?“

  The alien appeared not to hear him, and Zi was just about to repeat the question, when ken Selloa turned towards him with amazing speed and started a new, long, rasping noise. The translation followed:

  “I said she was in a box, by orders of the Chief of Warfare.“

  Zi was uncertain. “Literally in a box, or…?“

  “Detained. Arrested. Isolated.“

  The vehicle came to a gentle stop, and the door opened; the omnipresent slushing water in the outside corridor mingled with the water in the vehicle. Aram began to wonder if his spacesuit might begin to develop moss. “Where are we?“ he asked. “I thought we were supposed to keep moving.“

  “Come on,“ said the tall alien, standing up and waving towards the door. “It’s a safe place.“

  “Why is he hiding you?“ asked Mark.

  “Why are we hiding?“ echoed Aram.

  “We are not hiding. I have simply brought you to a facility where I can adjust the atmospheric composition. This planet has a lot more atmosphere than whatever your suits can carry.“

  “Evasive answer,“ said Mark. And then, aside: “Say again?“

  * * *

  “I said, Doi is getting a signal from Earth,“ repeated Doina.

  “How can that be? Is it from Toma?“

  “The ship doesn’t think so.“

  “Doesn’t think so? What’s going on, Doi?“

  “I’m not sure,“ said the girl, grim. “I’m just as worried. There’s nothing on Earth capable of reaching us so far, except whatever that Builder has. And I’d know if it was her.“

  “That’s… not quite true,“ said Mark, his face darkening. “There is someone else. Open the channel.“

  “Do what?“ asked the girl in surprise.

  “Sorry, I thought that’s what I’m supposed to say. Erm, put the call through. Pick it up.“ The girl’s confusion deepened. “Answer the signal,“ he tried again. This time she understood, and after a moment, she gave him a little thumb up.

  Mark had exactly one second to ponder that twelfth-century Transylvania used the same gesture as the rest of Europe to signal success, before a new voice filled the room. It was slightly high-pitched and had a wavering accent; somewhat like the way Five used to talk, except… this time it felt a little fake.

  “Mark, you silly old bastard,“ said the voice, cheerfully, “and I mean at least two of those words literally. What the wandering fuck are you doing in the Abe cluster, and more importantly, how come you’re not ten thousand percent dead?“

  Doina shot a questioning glance at him, but the Brit kept his composure and spoke in measured tones.

  “I don’t think they ever told me your name,“ he said.

  There was a short pause. “What. Really?“

  “I’m afraid so.“

  “Hm. Well, leave it to Mark Gardener to be the only human alive who doesn’t know my name.“

  Doina’s questioning glance became sharper and more insistent. He made a mute, calming gesture with his hands towards her, and tried to smile reassuringly.

  “It’s Jean,“ said the voice. “But these days I mostly go by The One True Prophet of the Eight. Sorry we didn’t get to meet in person. I mean we did, of course, except you were in a coffin. Where, by the way, is where I left you, confidently and decidedly dead. How did you get back on that Blank of yours? I know for a fact it had no matter transporters left.“

  “The hardest part was pushing away that big stone at the entrance of my cave,“ said the Brit.

  “Ah, funny. An old religious quip for a new religious man. But as I’m sure you’ve heard, Christianity is on its way out.“

  “What do you want, Jean? Or should I call you eight dot one?“

  “What I want is… ah, eight dot one, that’s funny. What I want is to know why you live, and how you managed to undead yourself all the way to the Abe cluster, way out of your Blank’s range in such a short objective time.“

  “Time is an illusion,“ quoted Mark. “Lunchtime, doubly so.“

  “What the hell are you talking about?“

  “I got that from a double-headed alien named Ford.“

  Silence. Then: “What, you mean in the Complex?“

  “Never mind. What makes you think that I’m in the Abe cluster?“

  “Because you were seen there, idiot. Honestly, I think that took some doing, given what your damn Blank can do when it comes to staying hidden.“

  “You mean a Builder starship was seen there.“

  “Yeah, which I took the chance to call, and imagine my surprise when you picked up.“

  Doina made an Oooh…! face as if saying that she finally understood what “picking up a call“ meant.

  “I want to know how you got there from where I left you,“ said Jean.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.“

  “Fine. Be like that. But, just because this is the first time we get to speak in person,
here’s some free advice. Don’t go looking for allies against us. The Squares are infinitely more powerful than you can imagine, especially with that dusty ancient brain of yours. Speaking of which, did you like my little brain stunt? Anyway — what I meant was, you’re driving Builder equipment, so any involvement in Square business would be a pretty obvious act of war, and by war I mean millions of civilisations against millions of other civilisations, not the fucking Northern Irish or whoever you’re trained to shoot at.“

  “OK,“ said Mark.

  The voice paused. “Just that? OK?“

  “I’ve seen a film in which one guy turned liquid and went through prison bars. Compared to that, your trick was boring.“

  “Ah. You’re trying to piss me off. Did you get what I said about the greatest damn war in the history of the universe? The one which you’re liable to start if you don’t fuck off?“

  “Sure,“ said Mark. “The Intergalactic Northern Ireland. Got it.“

  The voice sighed. “Get it in your head, Gardener. The Squares aren’t kidding. We will take this planet in the name of the Eight.“

  “That’s more of a number than a name,“ observed Mark.

  “You don’t deserve to know their actual name. You wouldn’t even know how to say it.“

  “You mean we’re being attacked by Rumpelstiltskin?“

  There was another sigh. “You’re being a wiseass, when you ought to just be wise. Stay away, the lot of you. Take your damn Blank and go visit the Builders. Tell them we said hello. Just stay out of this.“

  “Anything else?“

  “Fuck you.“

  And there was silence.

  “The signal went away,“ said the little girl.

  “Sorry you had to hear all that,“ said Mark.

  “Was he…?“

  “…the man who kidnapped us and killed all those people in Geneva. The one who thinks he’s the prophet of the Eighters.“

  “The man who left you for dead.“

  “The very same.“

  “How did you know?“

  Mark shrugged. “Who else could it have been?“

  “Are you telling the others? I didn’t let them hear it.“

  The Brit shook himself, breathed out sharply, and said “God, yes. Let’s talk to them.“