My people are not tolerant of differences, Lekiso thought as Connor, Marc, and she made their way up the narrow space between the crude stalls and the authentic shops.
The smells were still strong, and there were so many of them while the air felt a little sticky like it was not quite as clean as where they had started. The place was packed with different people, lining the walls and in every available open space that did not limit walking areas or close up doorways.
Everyone here seemed to have been in a hurry when they took along whatever they had with them now.
So far, they had seen examples of everything a family would need to survive: bowls, some cutlery, blankets, and small packs of gear. Cooking units were portable, clothing in small bags looked to have been worn for some time, although kept clean with other technology.
There was nothing of luxury, very few personal items, and there wasn’t any sign of any organized settlement.
Although, what they did have was still high tech, at least if you considered it to human standards. As they moved along Lekiso had kept an eye on a group of diverse alien children, she assumed they were children by their height.
They all had remote-controlled drones flying around, their handling managed by small handheld remotes. From what Lekiso remembered, the play time of toys like that and other electronic toys she saw at the feet or in the hands of different aliens, was usually limited.
In general, the batteries would run out.
Here though the toys were going strong, with the time the humans took to get around and from what she could interpret as the children’s fun having started long before the Humans arrived, their batteries lasted way longer than anything Humans used.
The various electronic utensils all seemed to be running just fine, with no cables for charging or even wall plugs for charging cables. Whatever this place was which was filled with so many aliens, they were not so easy to compare with those who would be destitute on Earth.
Some things did have a synonymous behavior in human terms. There were those aliens selling unique goods, things that the others didn’t have and traded for—traded and always got the unfortunate end of the deal.
Beggars can’t be choosers, she thought.
Many of the African countries had refugees with these sorts of hangers-on for society, the guy selling cigarettes or illegal alcohol, food that was now hard to get hold of. Their electronics and most basic needs were hanging in there, it was the things that came from consumables which were running short.
These people seemed to be much of the same, and the conversations going on supported her thinking. Discussions on vitamins and medicine, things beyond the simplest staple foods, survival elements which these aliens had probably taken for granted.
With the translations, she had to focus on a conversation to hear it in Ugandan, which was her native language, and not the various chirps, growls, or other strange noises that came out of the aliens.
It was clear though that all of them had not only left in a hurry, but had come from all walks of life in their respective hurry to escape something. So much hurry that everyone was brought down to the same simple standing: no one was better than anyone else.
The other close analogy to human behavior was that there were those who would always try to take advantage and come out on top.
No matter what it did to their fellow refugees.
Lekiso noticed that two of the aliens were having an argument, focusing on them, it was clear they didn’t have the same jobs. Apparently, one of the aliens was new to the area and trying to stake out some space.
The other was dressed in a smarter set of clothes with some kind of sign or insignia on the shoulders.
By the clothes of the other, shorter alien, she could associate it with the rest of the aliens resting wherever they could on the metal floor. The better-dressed alien had sky-blue skin and very prominent, thick bones pushing under his skin around the eyes and cheeks.
There were two others of the same alien race near the curving wall some distance away from the argument. They had some of the same electronic tablets that Izzix had held and were having a discussion while reviewing what was on their screens together.
Lekiso decided to move closer and listen in.
“Connor, stay with Marc. See if you can hear what those two are fighting about,” she communicated on their personal channel, pointing at the aliens whose voices were getting louder over the floor space dispute.
“I’m going to see what these two are saying.”
“Right.” Connor took Marc by the elbow. The smaller man’s eyes were glazed while he sorted through information on the station network.
Lekiso moved over to the two aliens.
Her virtual display could connect her to the tablets, which looked like iPads, or Samsung or any of the other brands of larger cellphones back on Earth. She didn’t want to use any of the options she was being shown for the electronics.
Instead, she used some of the other tactical commands to zoom in and enhance her hearing.
The first thing to come up was that the aliens were Domum, the species mentioned by Izzix as running the galaxy and the Puzzle Box.
So that’s what they look like.
Domums were roughly humanoid but with a dense bone structure and extra growth on their bones due to their home planet being of higher gravity than Earth’s. The extra-large bones meant their skin was stretched out at all the places where the bones defined part of their humanoid form.
So, the face had a Neanderthal-like brow, sunken eyes, prominent cheeks, and a broad chin.
All wrapped in the sky-blue skin, Lekiso could also see their shoulders were well defined under their clothes, and their hands were also quite large, with swollen knuckles tapering into what looked like fine fingertips by comparison.
They had three fingers and a thumb per hand. The medical data seemed to illustrate that the spacing of mammalian cells allowed for the broader bones but then compensated with the loss of a finger set.
Not of much interest to me, though.
She checked the relative threat assessment that her display was giving her. The Domums were both taller than her; the data indicated none were shorter than six feet and many grew to eight feet.
They could probably break Lekiso in half if they wanted to, depending on their hand-to-hand skills.
“How many more of them do you think we’ll get?” the one Domum was asking the other.
“I do not know. Judging by the numbers over the past few rotations, I would hope that we would be tapering off by now. Surely, there can only be so many in the first place?” the second answered.
She—the virtual display identified her gender—replied, “Perhaps. But so many are being dropped off. Then, with the ships they arrived on going back for more, I doubt that we have seen an end to the arrivals.”
Both Domums paused at that thought, and Lekiso moved up to the wall behind a makeshift tent of cloth and poles.
“So few can afford to get another ship to take them further; hence, they try to sell anything they have. We get saturated with more and more refugees until we overflow.”
The male Domum paused. “I know we are an open station, but the Puzzle Box can only take so many before the command center must take action. We can only afford to do a little more relief work before the resources of the station come under too much strain.”
“Connor? What are those two going on about out there?” Lekiso sent.
“These two seem to be relief workers from the Domums, and they are worried about a lot of refugees coming into the Puzzle Box.”
Connor replied, “One of these two is a refugee, and the other is a relief worker, then. Judging by the conversation, and I use the term loosely, it seems that the refugee is new to the Puzzle Box. He’s desperate to sell the goods he brought with him when he evacuated a deep-space mining operation he was at.
“The relief worker is trying to explain that the other refugees have been here for a few ‘rot
ations’ more than this one and have been trying to do the same thing. The Domum has been winning the argument that this new refugee can’t bully others out of the way. But if you take a look at them, I think the Domum can win a lot of arguments.”
Near to her, the Domums had turned at the raised voices of their comrade and the refugee.
“Whoever thought up that name for this threat that is sending all these refugees our way was an idiot. The Tempest, an oncoming storm, it’s just scaring them all even more,” the female whispered.
“I agree. But it doesn’t change our situation. The refugees believe in the Tempest, and we have to organize ourselves to protect the citizens as best we can,” the other replied. “Now, let us go and help Glabber Saru before he breaks one of our citizens into halves. Refugee or not.”
Lekiso ignored more information that bubbled up inside her brain and sent out silently, “Connor, whatever is going on here seems to be very serious and has been getting worse for some time. Come on, I want to see if the other two learned anything.”
Automated log update.
Subjects have begun integration into target timeline within area termed Puzzle Box. Nature of integration: Explorative.
Update within mission parameters: Acceptable.
The cohesion of subjects as a unit: Indeterminate but showing the correct profile.
Monitoring continues.
* *
“Whoooeee, look at the size of that behemoth,” Ormond exclaimed.
Meriam looked out and down to where Ormond was pointing at the docking arms visible below them. Lights moved out in the blackness, with the massive chunks of rock floating around them.
Ormond was pointing at what seemed to be an equally massive spaceship.
At least, Meriam could only assume it was an actual spaceship. Merely wondering about it brought up details in her display.
Will I ever get used to this? She wondered.
She had used smartphones and some sophisticated technology with useful apps. The icons in their visual displays had familiarities, enough that she half expected to find Candy Crush in there somewhere.
She had never gone to this detail in software and support equipment though, and it was a lot to take in, along with everything else.
The ship measured three miles long and almost a full mile high. It had thruster cones at the back, which her display listed as plasma effusion drives, whatever those were. The base of the ship was a mile and a half wide, while the sides angled as they went up to only a half-mile wide at the top.
The entire ship looked like some kind of upright wedge floating in space.
“What about it?” she asked the Englishman.
“I’m not sure. It’s the biggest vessel out there. Got my interest, is all. Although something about it seems interesting, don’t you think?” Ormond didn’t seem to notice her lack of interest.
“No, not at all, really.”
He looked at her with a kind expression on his rough features.
Looks like an actor turned bum, similar to that popular guy up and coming in the cinemas these days. What was his name? She thought.
“Are you alright, luv?” he asked her.
Meriam shook herself mentally. “I’m sorry, just distracted by everything.”
Unlike at her events and gatherings, this made her feel a kind of helplessness. Even the things her father had taught her to be prepared for hadn’t prepared her for this. She kept up the ruse of being an airhead dancer because it kept her in some position of being underestimated.
Ormond could see the competing feelings on her face. She was good at holding expression back. That was what made her so open to the socialites and celebrities that she made arrangements for. Ormond could read her though, at least a little, which was dangerous.
“Hey now, we’re all together in this, and we’ll make it through, whatever it is, hear?”
“Thank you, Ormond.” Meriam had to stay in control, even though she dearly want to be on their side.
This situation was ridiculous.
“I’m just not sure if I can even trust any of you. I mean, none of us have even met before. At least, not that we admit. For all I know, one of you is running this whole thing as some kind of sick joke or perverted experience.”
Meriam looked out into the Puzzle Box again, tracing the lights of what her display listed as a magnetic carriageway.
Joy, now I know that’s a transport system. Like nothing on Earth. Why do I even need to know that? Her thoughts jumbled together again.
“Well, sure, it could be some kind of elaborate hoax. It could even be some kind of strange dream under the influence of drugs and whatnot. But I doubt it. Either way, whatever is going on, it pays off to go along with it and be aware, don’t it?”
He was trying very hard to cheer her up, she could see that.
“I guess.”
“Listen, luv, you just take it easy. Stick with us, and we’ll all figure this out. It can only go on for so long if it’s some kind of setup. But if it’s real, then we are probably going to need each other, hey?” Ormond’s emphasis got through to her, like her father’s insistence that she always work on accepting what was really happening.
The reality was always going to be whatever was happening, not what she could only hope it would be, after all. Meriam wanted their help, perhaps in this circumstance she shouldn’t try so hard for it to be on only her terms.
“Yeah, okay. And Ormond?” She waited until he looked over at her to see her sincerity. “Thanks.”
The rugged Englishman seemed to get a bit embarrassed.
He half turned away. “Sure, luv, no problem. Now, let’s see what we can find out down here, hey?”
They had moved along the market concourse and weaved among the stalls, and various conversations had already stuck out for them. These aliens were in trouble, all of them commenting on wanting to move on, how they had gotten here while being evacuated or running away from something.
The accommodation level was filled. Every door to an apartment was open, and with the extra space, more refugees had crunched into the areas. Even then, the corridors were lined on both sides by individuals or pairs while families went into rooms in the apartments.
No apartment had one group of refugees; the best they could hope for was to keep rooms for themselves.
The good thing about the facilities was that the Puzzle Box maintenance was sophisticated enough to deal with all of them. Otherwise, the toilet equivalents would have overflowed by now, and all heating and oxygen would have stopped.
As it was, different species with hot or cold requirements had to make do with a single standard.
The humans were comfortable in their singlesuits, which maintained their heat level and expelled any excess through the material. There was an explanation in her memories, which she ignored.
All of the different needs and desires of the refugees had prompted the two of them to take a breather near the transparent wall where Ormond had started spotting the spaceships below them. Meriam was still processing the number of aliens that were around and that they seemed to be scared—of something they couldn’t define.
“This could be trouble.”
Ormond was looking along the curve of the outside wall, where three yellow-skinned humanoids were approaching them, their eyes glinting dull and black in their sockets and fixed on the two humans.
Her mind identified them as Lanillan, generally a mammalian species like humans and Domums.
They had followed an adapted evolution that allowed them to withstand much higher levels of radiation than any other listed carbon-based life form.
Meriam’s conscious mind managed to interpret the biological data from her display and her new memories into the understanding that the Lanillans were able to survive in highly radioactive environments without taking any significant harm.
According to their history, they had used this to build a lot of power generation quite cheaply for their economy, as th
ey didn’t need as much shielding and waste management.
The Domums had encountered and come to an agreement with the Lanillans, but they’d listed them as a cunning and risk-taking species. Many of whom used highly dangerous power generation in their starships even today, despite the options provided by the Domums.
In the galactic citizenry, the Lanillans were responsible for the most criminal and pirate activities.
“Did you get all that information too?” Meriam asked over the private channel to Ormond.
“Yeah, I did. Just stay calm, and let’s see what these three have to say. They probably won’t do anything in a public place.” Ormond moved to stand a bit in front of Meriam, between her and the Lanillans, who came to a stop a several feet away.
“I can take care of myself if I need to, but it is gallant of you to be protective.” She let the idle thought range with her eyes briefly over the profile Ormond presented her: He does have a nice ass, after all.
Wait, what has my hormones going, this should have me focused?
The Lanillan standing at the front of the three called out to Ormond, bringing Meriam back, the translation software interpreting the harsh guttural language he seemed to naturally speak into English.
“Hello, strange beings that I have not seen before. If you are also refugees, then perhaps we could make a deal to help you on your way?”
Fascinating how some information comes so naturally, Meriam considered, reflecting on how she could tell gender without it giving her a headache but how more detailed information just burst painfully inside her brain.
Ormond took a good look at the three of them and angled the way he was standing a bit before he replied, “Hi there, mate. I’m pretty sure we ain’t interested in whatever you’re selling.”
Was that him moving into a hand-to-hand stance? A bum from the street Huh? Meriam wondered to herself.
The Lanillan gave a broad smile, showing yellow teeth a muddier shade than the canary yellow of his lips. “Good being, I am merely offering you options to help you on your way. We could provide you with a bunk on our ship. Properly shielded, of course, lined in lead. We know of the fear others have of traveling in our death traps, as they are called.”
Abductees Page 6
