Nopileos: A novel from the X-Universe: (X4: Foundations Edition 2018) (X Series)

by Helge T. Kautz

  “Thank you very much. You can actually do me a huge favor, Colonel.”

  “Namely?”

  “Just make yourself invisible,” Siobhan snapped. Her stress made her even more biting than she already was, and her willingness to talk declined significantly. Danna looked dumbfounded at first, then laughed softly and retreated to the console of Major Seldon’s, who grinned at him silently and shrugged.

  “Eighteen seconds to reach the entrance point. Jump unit properly activated.”

  Siobhan touched a sensor on the console. Several small video fields opened, on which appeared images from the exterior cameras of the unmanned vessel. The constellations flew along both sides of the test ship in long, white stripes, while the positions of the stars remained relatively immobile in front of and behind the ship. Siobhan didn’t bother looking for faint red and blue shifts in the front and rear camera images because the ship was only traveling at five percent of the speed of light. Human eyes couldn’t resolve such minute nuances of color, but the computer was very well capable. She glanced sideways at Zakk Folkna, staring at a half-dozen flickering data fields in concentration. Zakk had presumably completely missed the episode with Danna.

  According to the displays, the jump unit had started up as expected. Externally, nothing could be discerned yet, but Siobhan knew that within the AP Providence, threads of distorted spatial geometry like dry, massless fingers now percolated through the walls of artificial metal as though they were nothing but massless ghosts. How badly Siobhan wanted to be aboard the test ship right now! This time, everything would work, she was sure of it. Lar Asaneus wouldn’t have died for nothing. And Ruuf, she added hesitantly in her head.

  “One sezura to reach the entrance point.”

  Fine, blue discharges began to prance around the AP Providence. A white ring of pulsing energy emerged in front of the bow of the small ship.

  “Test ship has reached the entrance point. All values are nominal.”

  Silently, a bright flash twitched. Siobhan blinked as the video field first turned black for a fraction of a sezura, then switched to the view of the camera drones. A fibrillating cloud of ionized interstellar gas shot towards the cameras and faded almost immediately.

  The AP Providence was gone!

  Siobhan checked the controls with trembling fingers. It worked, the experiment was a success! Then she turned to Danna and Seldon in anticipation of a shout of joy. But the two men looked at her as if they had seen a ghost. With long faces they wanted the camera transmissions of the position in space where the test ship had been just sezuras ago.

  “I’m going crazy,” the Colonel piped up after a few sezuras. “I’ve been a part of twelve X-shuttle jump tests, twelve jumps spread over twenty-one tazuras. Twelve failures.” The color slowly returned to his face, and he stepped over to Siobhan and extended his hand. “You have deeply impressed me.”

  In the first moment, Siobhan felt the impulse to ignore the offered hand. But she intuitively felt that Danna’s words were sincere, and stood up to look the intelligence agent in the eyes while she shook his hand. “This wouldn’t be possible without your help, Colonel,” she said with a wink.

  “Oh, you mean because I can make myself invisible upon request,” Danna laughed, “like the jump unit!” For the first time since he knew Siobhan, he felt a certain sympathy for her. He stepped aside as Zakk Folkna hugged Siobhan and clapped her across the shoulders.

  “I knew it, I knew it!” the scientist repeated over and over, and it sounded a bit like sobbing, or a heartfelt prayer.

  “Okay, Zakk. Back to your place, now. The AP Providence will return in a few moments. Major Seldon, to the remote flight controls. Hop to it!” Major Seldon hopped.

  Only then did Siobhan realize that the gravidar wasn’t indicating what it should. The test ship had been programmed for a jump of only one light-mizura; a distance well within the limits of this solar system. It should have appeared on the gravidar! “Zakk, something’s wrong. The ship isn’t on the gravidar.” Anger rose in her—she was no pilot! Seldon should have noticed the ship’s absence on the gravidar immediately after the jump!

  “Lost? Did it explode?” Zakk gasped in horror. “Perhaps in the energy flash when it reached the entry point?”

  “No, no debris on the gravidar, nothing,” Seldon answered. “The ship must have jumped!”

  “Bridge!” Danna called. The first officer answered. “Commander, I need a deep space scan across the entire sector. Immediately! Our test ship disappeared, it—”

  “One moment, Colonel,” the first officer interrupted. “We have activity at the jumpgate. There it… yes! Unbelievable. There it is!”

  “I demand a proper report!”

  “Thank you, Commander. Dr. Norman—we somewhat overshot the finish line, no? How was that, only a light-mizura for the first test?”

  Siobhan leaned back and ran a hand through her hair. “The telemetry data looked perfect. Not one iota of difference from the targeted values. We have to wait until we see what the jump unit recorded during the jump.”

  “Hmm, signal propagation delay is thirty-three mizuras in one direction. That means the earliest we’ll know in sixty-six mizura. Bit if you need to take the unit apart, Doctor…”

  “Yes, of course—then it will take a bit longer.”

  “About half a tazura to the rendezvous. Unless you let the ship jump again.”

  “Not in any event, Colonel. Not before I know what happened.” But she already had a specific assumption.

  Chapter 33

  Every Teladi is born with a genetically-acquired vocabulary of about a hundred words, the so-called “eggspeak.” Most of these words by deal with verbs, adjectives, and interjections which are rarely needed by a full-grown Teladi. The adult language must therefore be learned by every Teladi in the traditional way.

  Dr. S. Petra,

  Essay on a Lexical Field Analysis of Teladian Verbs

  She couldn’t get enough of the sight or hear enough of the sounds. Even though she had only understood a few words, she still very quickly understood how elegant and expressive the language of the two Customs and Immigration officials really was. If there was a true, an original form of Teladian, it was this, and not the one that was spoken in the Community! Everything in her resonated as if her body had received—for the first time in her life—a dose of a mineral or vitamin that blew a veil away from her eyes and ears that she had never realized was there before. Petulenas and his colleague Odisobos spoke to her in pure Old Teladian, and she understood every word, as if it had been predetermined by her genes from the very beginning.

  “So, egg-sister Isemados Sibasomos Nopileos IV, we are very pleased to have made your acquaintance,” Petulenas said directly. He came back from the cockpit and looked at an image on the display of his device, a picture he had just taken of Ghinn. “Only the fewest egg-sisters in your planetary community find themselves in such impressive company. A hateful creature and an Argon woman.” Nopileos’s scaly fin straightened in amusement. Hateful creature! That was certainly the best term she’d ever heard for the Split. And that was especially true for Ghinn t’Whitt! She caught a glimpse of the star warrior.

  “What are they saying?” Elena wanted to know.

  “They are happy,” Nopileos said absently. Turning to Petulenas, “Surely there are many Teladi from the Community already on Ianamus Zura, colleague Petulenas, right? Right?”

  “Hmmshhh.” Petulenas hung the recording device into a scale hook at his side and picked up an input tablet on which he touched some sensors. “Well, so many are coming, so many leave again. So, egg-sister Nopileos, you have a landing clearance. Thank you very much.”

  Nopileos made a hissing sound. She looked at Elena for help, but the star warrior had of course not understood a word of what she was saying.

  “So, egg-sister Nopileos,” Petulenas turned to her again before following his colleague Odisobos through the docking tunnel, “concerning your pirate proble
m, please contact the Aesthetic Supervision. They have already been informed. Your personal visa is unlimited, your companions’ visa is for the solstice.” Nopileos managed to express her thanks before the bulkhead hissed shut.

  “Tell us!”

  “We are allowed to land. Oh, Elena, they really are…”

  “Males?” Elena suggested with a grin as Nopileos faltered.

  “Tshh! Yes, that too! But they are also very mysterious.”

  Elena had to grin even wider. “Anything else would be boring, right?” With these words, she slapped Nopileos lightly on the shoulder and pressed past her to return to the cockpit, where Ghinn was waiting as though petrified.

  When about an inzura later, Ianamus Zura filled the narrow window of the dinghy from left to right, Nopileos couldn’t stop marveling. She was deeply moved in her heart of hearts. She had certainly gone unusually far in her life for a Teladi who had just achieved maturity. She had already seen many magnificent planets, and also the glittering veils of the Halmnan Aurora, mysterious and beautiful. She had seen dark-red suns that gleamed at her from the furthest reaches of eons like pieces of coal midway through a winter’s night; spiral nebula in such great numbers and as white as ice crystals on the window of the Breeding Complex on Platinum Ball.

  But this planet, on which the barge had just landed, was more beautiful than all of that. So much more beautiful that it hurt her soul. Already from a height of a hundred and fifty thousand lengths, where the atmosphere just stood out as a thin, pale blue hint against the black of the universe, she could recognize its unique and special colors with her naked eye: a warm, muddy brown that stretched over almost the entire northern hemisphere. Nopileos had never seen a map of the birth planet of her species, didn’t understand what she was seeing with her mind. But her subconscious spoke to her heart, and she recognized it all at once: swamp! Just as other planets were covered in large part by deep oceans, Ianamus Zura was covered by vast, wonderful swamps. It was the memory of their kind, unexperienced, yet unforgotten across all generations.

  “Are you on the localizer beam?” Elena’s voice broke through.

  Nopileos checked the controls as if they were incidental and switched the computer to ground control. “Hai.” Signs of intelligent life could not be made out from orbit on many settled planets. Here it was different. Coastal marches ran for tens and hundreds of thousands of lengths in gently curved lines, which were obviously not of natural origin, but had to have been shaped over many hundreds of jazuras. The large dry regions blazed golden yellow in parts, in ocher tones in others. There, down below, the terminator moved slowly under the landing ship, separating day from night, and a twinkling metropolis lit up, point of light by point of light, their night lights.

  Not much later, the first buildings grew towards the height of the sinking barge. Curved, living structure, gently and suddenly rising, narrow or wide. Here, too, without a doubt, the connection to the artist’s sculpture already manifested itself in the lines of the Customs spaceships. Art, technology, landscape, and architecture, everything flowed together here on Ianamus Zura in beauty, producing the lost dream of her kind. Here she was at home…she felt it, as the landing pads of the dinghy touched down with a soft jerk.

  Night on the landing field was flushed with a gentle light. She wanted out; the air on board was so stale and artificial. She wanted to breath the planet right now! Without a word, she pulled herself out of the pilot’s chair and left the two women behind her. The star warrior shouted something to her, but Nopileos paid it no mind. The lock hissed, it couldn’t move fast enough. Finally, the tiny gangway swung out, and even before the stairs touched the loamy floor of the landing field, Nopileos jumped the last half-length, spread her arms in the warm air, and took a deep breath.

  An unobtrusive aurora wafted in long plumes over the night sky, silent from noises, but loud in its harmony. Nopileos stood there, out of time, lost to the world, and breathed! Why had she just been choking for all these jazuras? On the artificial air, on the narrow confines of the Breeding Complex on Platinum Ball, on the ignorance of all her people?

  Elena stepped along side her later. “Beautiful,” the Earth woman whispered.

  “Yes,” Nopileos breathed, more softly than Elena had ever heard her speak before. Deep silence prevailed for a long, long while. From somewhere, a breeze bore a spicy, swamp odor. Nopileos’s hearts pumped in slow, deep triplets. Eventually, she felt Elena take her claw in her hand and squeeze gently.

  “You arrived at your destination, Nopileos,” the Earth woman said softly. “This is your home. I can see it in your face.”

  Nopileos looked up at her. “Oh, Elena, if only you knew what’s going on inside me. Every Teladi, every Teladi longs for this place, for so long, and every thought…” Her voice failed and she had to moisten her nostrils with her tongue. “Every thought in which a Teladi yearned for this unknown place was worth thinking. Every single one! Oh, Elena!”

  They turned as a sound swept over from the barge. Ghinn t’Whht came down the gangway clumsily and with a guarded expression. Her laced sandals crunched softly on the loam. The Split woman folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, stubbornly looking in another direction when she noticed Nopileos and Elena looking over at her. Elena shook her head and turned back to Nopileos. “Stay here, Nopileos. You shouldn’t leave here again.”

  “Yes,” she answered pensively. No, she shouldn’t leave here again, never again. But…

  “Elena star warrior, oh my friend! Look, there are people who are counting on us, on you and also on me! You’ve all put your life on the line to save me. Ianamus Zura waited for so many decazuras, a couple more wozuras won’t make a difference.” These words came anything but easy for her, but it did good to say them.

  “Nopileos…” Elena sat down on the floor cross-legged, as she occasionally did when she wanted to talk to her seriously and at equal height. Nopileos knelt down and the two so unlike friends looked each other in the eye: yellow, glistening, saurian, ringed eyes looked into deep, dark almond eyes. How much could she tell Nopileos without hurting her? Could she mention the conference with the CEO and Bala Gi? Would the CEO have organized a rescue mission if the Ancient Ones’ records hadn’t slumbered on board the Nyana’s Fortune? If not, Elena would have never found out that Nopileos was still alive.

  “You are so quiet, oh sister!”

  “Nopileos, little lizard, stay here on Ianamus Zura. I know you wouldn’t hesitate to come along. But you don’t have to face this danger: the success or failure of the mission doesn’t depend on you…”

  “But that’s not at all what it’s about,” Nopileos hissed before Elena had finished speaking. “Don’t you know what I promised you?”

  Elena nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  Nopileos remained silent for a few sezuras and looked to the side. Somewhere over there in the night swung the elegant curves of a tall building. Through the soft veils of mist, she could recognize another ship a hundred lengths away, stretching its bow into the sky. “I keep my promises, Elena. Please!”

  Something strange, something uniquely singular happened: the spacefarer from Earth rose to her knees and embraced the saurian woman with both arms. On several occasions she had felt the impulse to do this, but had always held back until now because Teladi didn’t hug each other. Nopileos hissed in surprise—she had never been hugged before! But she knew this human gesture and so she put her scale-covered arms around Elena’s shoulders as well.

  “My friend,” was the only thing Elena said, and she squeezed Nopileos. The Teladi murmured something incomprehensible, then both broke up and straightened. “We have to go to the Aesthetic Supervision, right? Whatever that might be.”

  “Exactly,” Nopileos confirmed. Elena took a few steps towards Ghinn, who pretended as though she hadn’t seen the strange scene. But immediately after that it became apparent that she had followed the events of the last mizuras.”

  “Please—she doesn’t
embrace me, too,” the Split woman said in her throaty voice.

  Elena couldn’t resist a grin. “I only embrace creatures who also have a soul: Teladi, Boron, Xenon,” she joked. Ghinn made a kind of croak. If Elena hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was an expression of humor—but Split never laughed.

  Ghinn made a gesture that was unreadable in the night. “Our ways part here,” she said. “You wanted to use me to reach your goal. I, however, used you to accomplish mine. There is no more to say.” With these words, Ghinn bid Elena and Nopileos a hip-height gesture and slowly walked away into the darkness.

  Nopileos starred after her. “What’s her plan?”

  Elena hesitated. “She’ll probably look for the second-best Teladi who will bring her back to the Community, I think.”

  “Tsh. It’s not very smart to walk through the middle of a landing field at night,” Nopileos remarked. “She simply walked out onto the field instead of sticking to the path.

  Elena was astonished. “Where do you see a path here?”

  Instead of answering, Nopileos tromped alternately with both clawed feet two, three times on the loamy ground. No, she wasn’t wrong. It was a completely new feeling; she had never before felt anything like it. She’d spent most of her life in buildings and space stations, and her claws might be untrained despite the many wozuras on Nif-Nakh. But she felt it clearly and entirely without doubt. Her instincts didn’t deceive her. There was only one explanation.

  “Do you feel it? Here!” She took a few steps forward and stomped her claws one more time. “And here!” More stomping. “Tsh!”