“Thank you. How may this humble family be of service?”
“We are looking to talk with you over a meal and tea, which we will provide, a conversation with the purpose of learning more about your situation and some other topics that you may have knowledge of. If you would be willing?”
The female seemed to respond well to Meriam’s continued formality. Lekiso wondered at the amount of knowledge the woman had absorbed. It probably had to do with her background and the data she had in her software.
Lekiso could tell the physical threat that the Wirurgeons posed and that they had no weapons to speak of. The thin knife she detected on the male was a tool used for various traditional purposes, and the minor metal implements on the women were for hair and nail care.
It seemed her role wasn’t to be a cultural expert, but definitely the military aspect, which suited her just fine.
“We agree,” The female replied. “I am Shandra. With respect, my full name would not translate well for you.”
“I thank you for your name, Shandra. I am called Meriam.”
“I thank you for your name, Meriam. I offer my mate for purposes of assisting your male in the procurement of food.”
“A welcome offer. We accept.” Meriam turned to Marc and told him, “Go with this man to the counter and get a full meal for us.” On the private channel, she sent Marc the menu items that the humans could consume, a small meal and specifically the tea, which she highlighted as important. He had to order a few liters. This was going to be a long conversation.
“When you are away from us, you can ask the man what to get for his family. It is then polite,” Meriam also sent to Marc on the private channel.
“Uh, sure thing.” Marc was joined by the Wirurgeon male just past the table, and the two went over to the counter.
“And now we exchange pleasantries until the first cup of tea is sipped, small talk if we want to be polite,” Meriam sent to Lekiso,
“Okay, I can handle that,” Lekiso replied.
* *
“Commander Vax?”
The officer contacted Obragon Vax on his desk terminal and the picture of his big blue head appearing between the two stilts that held up the display.
“Yes, Officer?”
“Sir, the medical center on Enone Hub has just contacted us. They ran a standard security check on two of the humans you have us monitoring, and their consoles referred them to us.”
“Pass it through.”
“Yes, sir, coming through now.”
The display changed to show the face of a Domum from Manor Alim with his back to three other Domums who were all working in a small space, probably the reception desk of the medical center.
“Commander Vax, we have two male humans here who are asking us if we have any information that we can share on the kind of wounds or injuries the refugees are sustaining. And also, sir, the biology of the Devourer.”
“I see. Thank you, nurse.” Obragon Vax could see the rank on the uniform. Each Manor had their own uniforms. Those of Manor Alim were designed to be resistant to liquids and stains, staying pure white in triage conditions so as to provide comfort to those in need.
The collar showed the small stripes of rank, a senior nurse monitoring the other juniors at reception.
“Please provide them with answers to all of their questions and do not advise them that they are being monitored or why you had to make them wait.”
“Yes, Commander.”
The connection closed, blanking the display. On another screen, Obragon Vax had a split.
On one, he could see that the other three humans were in the food court. The other showed the Domums of Manor Alim standing up to talk to the two in the medical center.
* *
According to Ormond’s display, the Domum senior nurse completed his communication with the command center before getting up and coming over.
Ormond had immediately monitored the station network after the nurse had to go and “Check on something,” picked up the communication link, and watched the length of the call.
He’d decided against tapping into the call itself; no need to give away anything that they might be able to detect, and besides, it either worked out for them, or it didn’t matter at this stage. He was somewhat surprised when the nurse said, “Please come with me, and I will answer your questions.”
Connor must have been surprised as well. He gave Ormond a look and then shrugged before following the Domum into a side room with a wall-mounted display.
The Domum picked a tablet up from the desk under the display and issued a series of instructions. The screen lit up and began to scroll through a slideshow of different alien beings.
“These are all the various species that we have coming in as refugees. As you can see, they are from all over the galactic citizenship,” the Domum nurse narrated.
“Each of the ships bringing in the refugees was in a great hurry. Many of them burned out components or used up a lot of fuel in an excess drive to get here as quickly as possible due to the strain on their systems and overloading or overcrowding of the life support systems.”
“We have found several cases of hypothermia where heating failed, hypoxia from a lack of oxygen, several cases of malnutrition or dehydration. Some major injuries are from being too near to exploding components. All these cases are present on every new ship arriving at the Puzzle Box.
“Not a single one of the refugees have spent any great number of cycles on a planet’s surface in quite some time. So, whatever it is that has them fleeing the areas of space they came from would have encountered them in space itself.”
“So, they all came from space ships or space stations?” Connor asked.
“Correct. To add to the hypothesis, I would expect that they came from many different space stations in particular.” The Domum sounded confident of himself.
Ormond was still quite puzzled, so he asked, “Why do you say that?”
“The limited space available and the overcrowding of the refugee's vessels clearly points to a rushed evacuation. There have been big ships that have left into the regions of space from which these refugees have arrived, but each of them was populated by what the life-support systems could easily handle. There was no overcrowding or other population in those vessels to strain the systems.”
“Manor Alim has analyzed the propensity for a population to grow in space stations of various kinds. The many theories correlate on several points, one of which is that the general population of a space-based station or construction usually outstrips the available ships that could safely transport the inhabitants by several factors.”
“Wait, so you’re saying that there are never enough ships to evacuate a space station?” Ormond had considered it bad enough to see aliens in such a technological marvel as the Puzzle Box be homeless, but this was getting his nerves on edge even more.
“Correct.”
“And here? The Puzzle Box, does it have the capacity to evacuate everyone?”
“No. The Puzzle Box would have enough vessels to evacuate perhaps a third of the average population of any given cycle. With the added refugees, I couldn’t even begin to guess at how many could be transported.”
“Oh boy,” Connor mumbled.
* *
Marc was pouring tea for the Wirurgeon females. The adult had a full-sized cup, which his display told him was authentic ceramic. Her adolescent and even younger daughters had a half-cup each.
According to Meriam, Marc was to keep their cups full whenever they held them out.
It was immensely frustrating. As if being a billion light years from home with no idea what was going to happen next wasn’t bad enough. Sure, he was interested in the technology, and the displays and the equipment were terrific.
And his body! Never in his life had he thought he would have a body like this!
But the unknowns still ate away at him. Whatever Gravitonics were seemed impressive, but the reason for them all being here?
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If he was going to be really honest with himself, what he wanted was someone to blame, some face or being, alien or creature to point to and accuse of bringing them all here. The disruption to his life, the changes, everything, Marc wanted to know who was behind it even if it wouldn’t change the situation.
Perhaps just being able to shout at it would make him feel better?
“Marc?” Meriam sent quietly over the private channel.
“Uh?” Whoops, he had a cup to refill, which he quickly did.
A slight flush of embarrassment joined the angry coloring around his neck. He carefully filled the cup, almost to the brim, and then stood back again. The male Wirurgeon was waiting after Meriam and Lekiso, part of the customs Meriam was following.
Shandra, the adult female, took a sip of her tea and then continued what she had been saying.
“We were on a galactic liner. It is a large space vessel, and it held many passengers with lots of interior space for luxuries. My family was indentured to a Lanillan cluster. That is their word for a family group, although they can absorb other Lanillans into it as if they were blood. It is a strange practice, but we paid it no mind. The four of us were provided for, and we served them well.”
Shandra stroked the head of her youngest daughter.
“It was good fortune for us that cycle. The Lanillans had all gone to a function of entertainment. There were many such events scheduled on the space cruise upon which this vessel was taking us. We had completed our duties for the night. The clothes were cleaned and pressed, and the pre-event drinks had been served. Everything was in order, and we were left to ourselves for some time before the alarm sounded.”
“You must understand, our culture is one that is happy to serve, but we do not make ourselves slaves. Many new species we encounter make that mistake. So, when the alarm sounded, and the ship network put up the warnings to evacuate, we did not hesitate. The Lanillan family was a capable cluster, they should have been able to survive an evacuation without our assistance.”
“We made our way down the passages and found an escaping shuttle loading passengers. There was space for us, so we boarded. By then, the ship’s hull had reverberated with the sounds of impact, the alarms had turned to a more urgent tone, and the ship’s net was alive with communications…and some screams. The shuttle we were on departed, packed as full as the pilot would allow.”
Shandra paused to drink more of her tea.
The family was obviously not doing well financially. The children were already eating ravenously, while Shandra herself gave every indication of starving. Marc didn’t have the biological scanners to check, but he was pretty sure they had probably not eaten in a few days.
Shandra picked up some kind of wafer and dipped it in the gooey beige paste that had come with the meal. Nibbling on the food, she continued.
“We have been here at the Puzzle Box for several cycles since. Our reserves of funds are meager and will not buy us a way off. The shuttle pilot that got us here sold seats at a very high price. He would not change his mind, even for those of us he had saved before. Some of those from the luxury cruise could afford the prices, but we could not. We have been stranded here ever since. Along with so many others.”
“Did they all come from the cruise ship? Or perhaps there were other ships in a fleet along with yours?” Meriam asked.
Marc poured some more tea for the middle Wirurgeon child.
“No, it was but one ship, out to see the Habragian nebula cluster. The sights were splendid; we got to see some ourselves. But we were only halfway on the plotted trip out towards the edge of the galaxy when the attack began.”
“Was it a new trip, a new cruise offering?”
“Again, no. This is a settled cruise offering, one of those luxury trips for the wealthy to partake of for their own interest and life experience. We had checked the potential for danger before offering to join them as servants. Ours is a complicated profession. We do not choose to put ourselves at risk when we have our families to consider.”
“Of course. I am merely curious. It seems so very strange that all of this could be happening to so many and yet no one seems to know what the source is.” Meriam put sympathy and the question into her voice.
“You are correct, it is extraordinary. I am sorry to inform you that we will be of no help in providing more answers.” Shandra lowered her head in a Wirurgeon gesture of sorrow.
“I thank you nonetheless. Have you perhaps learned anything else while spending time here on the Puzzle Box?”
Shandra looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby.
“Everyone here, they talk about their experiences. Every case, it is quick, sudden, and efficient. No one of importance escapes. In fact, very few from any settlement or ship in that area of our galaxy escape. The refugees started to use the term Tempest for the oncoming storm, the storm that is a force unto itself and will destroy everything in its path.
“I spoke to the pilot in my attempt to bargain for our seats away from the Puzzle Box. He was adamant about his price, but it was so that he could recharge the shuttle and get away. It was not all motivated by avarice and greed. The pilot was afraid, terrified of what he had seen destroy that luxury cruise vessel.”
“Do you know if anyone has any sensor data or hard scans of these Tempest?” Lekiso broke in respectfully.
Meriam took a turn at offering her cup for the Wirurgeon male to refill, keeping up the custom. It did seem to be keeping the Wirurgeons more at ease.
“I have heard that others tried to take such scans, but their equipment could not get a read, so they say. What little data or images have been gathered were all copied by the Domum officers for the command center to analyze. I do not know of anyone receiving a response.”
“How strange, and there is no recognition of their ships or their behavior? No species is claiming responsibility at all?”
Shandra lifted her shoulders in a shrug, the green toga she wore tenting with the motion over her thin body.
“I do not know of any such claims, nor any such recognition, and I likely would have by now. The name of ‘Tempest’ would not be given if there were an identified species. Granted, ships can be built in many ways. Only a species’ spacefaring army or navy would keep their vessels uniform in design.”
For mass production, Marc considered what she was saying and could only agree with the information he now had in his brain.
The run-of-the-mill starship could be built in a multitude of ways. Like putting together a car from different parts, the frame, chassis, engine, wheels, and tires could all be changed. Only, in space, you could be different in three dimensions and didn’t have to worry about symmetry, aerodynamics, or even aesthetics linked to engineering.
How a ship looked was purely up to the builder or owner. It could be changed quite easily with enough resources; it wasn’t a function of the design, merely an option.
“The strongest suspect is pirates or raiders, cobbling together their ships and making as much of their time as they can before the Domum Manor Vax moves in.”
Meriam gave Lekiso a glance, their memory implants providing them information just as Marc’s was: on the Domums and their Manors, and Manor Vax, the source of all Domum naval and military might, officers, even space operations like the running of the Puzzle Box.
* *
Connor seemed to be distracted in the hospital.
Something was on his mind, at any rate. So, Ormond led the questions for the Domum nurse.
“Have any of the refugees met one of these attackers that they were fleeing from?”
“I am not aware of such. My primary interest in the refugees is their health. As far as that goes, we have treated them.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Let me try this differently, Ormond thought.
“Do you treat mental illness or problems here?”
“Yes, of course. We are a complete medical facility. We treat every conceivable ailment that would stem from a
physiological or psychological injury, trauma, or harm.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“So, are you treating any of the refugees for delusions, problems with what they believe they have seen, or other psychosis? We would also term it a sort of…post-traumatic stress treatment?”
Connor looked puzzled, but he didn’t interrupt the Domum.
“Yes, we are. I must caution you, however. Any information that these subjects may have provided to us is unreliable at best. We do not give it much credence until we have a full diagnosis of their condition.”
“Okay, sure, I understand that. Can you tell me what they have to say, though? Unless, of course, there is some kind of doctor-patient privilege at work here?” Ormond tried to project sincerity and sympathy.
He really wanted to know what was going on, and a lot of it sounded like it was either a cover-up or some kind of terror operation. There was no way that anything smart enough to be able to cause this much turmoil and be unnoticed was also letting the refugees just get away.
“I am not sure what you are referring to. The patients’ rights extend to what they allow us to perform. All information they provide, however, is considered the confidence of Manor Alim for treatment and future use, and Manor Vax should they require it for the safety of the Puzzle Box.”
Ormond shared a look with Connor that spoke volumes about comparing human ethics with alien ethics.
“Oh. Well, in that case, please tell us what they have had to say.”
The Domum looked uncomfortable. His expression and body language, interpreted by the implanted memories, told the two humans that he didn’t like dealing with uncertainties in what he was saying.
“Apparently, the various refugees that we have in our care for psychological stress experienced situations of intense emotional content relating to the attacks. Friends and loved ones were trapped and were heard being torn apart, screaming. But we are sure this is just a reaction to what happened. The patient’s own minds making up much of the detail for themselves with those they have lost.”
Abductees Page 15
