Chapter 15
Rinna had many questions she wanted to give voice to, even though she was aware that none of those in the cockpit would have answers to those questions. She just wanted to ask them, to get them out, to stop them clogging her throat.
She was certain with the questions out of the way, the tightness in her chest would ease.
Well, not certain, just hopeful.
She and Tim had encountered some strange things in their travels together, but this might qualify as the strangest. She considered that, because it was a question she could answer herself.
The dragonfly alien they’d clashed with while on the mission with General Halliwell had definitely held the top spot and would retain that spot for its sheer lethality, for now.
She really hoped these wouldn’t move up to that top spot. They hadn’t seemed that hostile, just curious, so she had some hope.
But if the situation changed, at the moment it didn’t seem like they had a lot of options to respond. She checked. Communications were offline. And as far as she could tell, without actually trying, so were weapons.
Not that she thought firing at this would be a good option just yet. But it would have been nice to have the option.
“What are they?” Drun persisted, though his tone had moderated to almost reasonable.
Perhaps he’d finally realized that hostility wasn’t his best choice at the moment.
That they were all in this—whatever this was—together.
It did seem pointless to keep asking, when they’d all made it clear they didn’t know, but humans—she included herself in that designation—were often unreasonable.
Riina felt a subtle shift under foot. She looked to Tim, trying not to let her alarm show. It felt a bit seismic, though much smaller.
“Something’s coming,” Tim said.
Did he realize he’d put his hand over hers? She wasn’t sure, but she was grateful for the warm, very human touch of his hand over hers.
These eyes were much bigger than the last two. Much bigger. As it came closer, their view was reduced to just one, large eye.
Like the previous encounters, there was blinking and looking. And finally a question.
“Who are you?”
Riina paused, trying to order her thoughts. If there were gaps in their translation program, she needed to be very careful what she said. She would have been anyway, but this felt like more.
“We call ourselves humans,” she said. She hesitated, but then didn’t add more. Until they knew more, it didn’t seem wise to identify where they came from. The legends about the lost Garradians had permeated farther than she’d expected.
“Humans.” The pronunciation was a bit off. “How did you get into our…”
Again the translation failed.
“We are not sure,” Riina said. She assumed, from the context, that they flown into the path of some kind of a collector. “As I said, we were on a mission to rescue several of our kind.”
There were more of the blinks. It was unnerving to have the eye staring so intently into the ship. It was close enough she could see the variations in color and the pupil was sharply defined this close.
“Are there more of your kind?” It finally asked.
“There are many more on the planet,” Drun said. “We live there.”
“The planet.” The voice sounded thoughtful. “Oh, you are the…”
Again a translation failure.
Did that mean the entity or whatever it was recognized that the planet did have inhabitants?
“You are not supposed to be here,” it said.
“We didn’t plan it,” Riina said, a bit dryly, then wondered if it could hear tone. “If you could release us so we can go back to the planet…”
“That is no longer possible,” it said. “We will soon arrive at…”
Rina had a feeling that this translation glitch was a serious one. Arrive where?
Tim cleared his throat and then spoke without looking at Riina. This was a breach of their protocol, but he’d had the sudden thought from watching the pattern of attack.
“Are you targeting the Vorthari? The entities that live under the surface of the planet?”
The eye blinked.
“Target? We don’t know what this means. We clean out the infestation.”
“That is what we came to do, too,” Tim said. “At least, one of our kind cleaned out a nest of them prior to our arrival.”
There was a distinct rumble, though whether it was a good sign, he didn’t know.
“We wondered,” it finally said. “But there are many more and they are waking and planning to leave.”
“That was our assessment as well,” Riina said, giving Tim and approving look. “Do they threaten the surface inhabitants? We understood that the Skaridrex contained them?”
“The Skaridrex have lost control. An interdiction was required.”
“Is the interdiction dangerous to the surface inhabitants?” Riina asked the question again.
“The Vorthari are more dangerous. They would scavenge the surface life before moving on.”
“But you can save them? The people on the planet?” This was from Lt. Dish.
Tim had almost forgotten she was there.
“Save them?” The voice sounded surprised. Or that could be the translation program projecting emotion. “They will save themselves. It will be easier now.”
Drun gave a cry and tried to lunge out of his seat. The straps held him down and tightened in response to his lunge.
“No! Those are my people!”
“Could we perhaps consult on a way to rid the world of the Vorthari that allows the surface dwellers to survive?” Riina said hastily. “We were successful with the one nest of them.”
“You do not understand,” it said, “we have…” translation frizzed and then the eye retreated.
“I hope he doesn’t take too long,” Lt. Dish said. “It sounds like we don’t have much time until something happens that I have a feeling we won’t like.”
“No,” Riina agreed. “In the meantime, I’m going to try scanning and see if we can figure out just what this is. And where we are.”
Tim opened his mouth to object. As far as he could tell, scanning was down.
“Could you get scanning back up, Trac?” Riina asked.
“My systems scanning is intact,” Trac said. “I will share my data. It is, so far, puzzling and inconclusive. Perhaps I could refine it if I could egress the shuttle.”
Tim jerked around to look at his friend. “Only if I go with you.”
“We do not know if your gear can withstand the atmosphere outside the shuttle,” Trac pointed out. “It could be toxic to both humans and their gear.”
He was correct.
“How can you get out without letting that atmosphere in?” Lt. Dish asked.
He shifted his gaze to her, but it was Riina who answered.
“We have a one-person airlock.”
“Those things were in the atmosphere,” Drun said, still managing to sound annoyed.
“They are not human,” Tim said, trying not to sound annoyed.
Had they actually been in what contained them?
Or had they projected their images? Knowing the answer might not change anything, he concluded.
But he did wonder if they’d encounter any of them if they left the shuttle. That was a legitimate concern.
Trac had unstrapped and rose, though he could not attain his full height inside the cockpit. It was more like he unfolded as much of himself as space allowed.
“I will test the outer atmosphere. If it is non-corrosive to your gear, then you can join me,” he said.
As if on some unspoken signal, Fred jumped back onto Lt. Dish’s shoulder. Drun flinched back.
“I am uneasy with this course of action,” Veirn’s fragment said.
“We are all uneasy with it,” Riina said. “But we need to do something.”
“I suppose,” Veirn said. It did not sound convinced.
Tim rose and followed Trac through the hatch to the bay of the shuttle.
The airlock was just off the cockpit. The humans—with the exception of Dr. Walker—looked up in alarm at the sudden appearance of the cyborg.
Tim wasn’t sure why. They’d seen Trac outside.
It had been in the dark, he conceded, and during a tense encounter.
The sight of Tim right behind didn’t seem to alleviate much of that alarm.
If he’d had time, Tim might have been a little offended by that.
He caught a reflection of himself, with his cyborg eye. Oh. He tended to forget he still had cyborg enhancements that might be unsettling. Did that mean he was getting better at being human? Or just clueless?
He didn’t have an answer for that question, so he wasn’t sorry when Dr. Walker asked one.
“What’s happening?”
Trac ignored him, his attention on preparing the airlock so he could enter it.
Tim opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He blinked. Then he said, “Drun will explain.”
He heard a muffled snort from behind him and grinned. He glanced back.
Riina had followed them into the bay and was trying not to grin.
Tim noticed that Drun hadn’t followed them into the bay, as Trac opened the airlock and stepped inside. The hatch snapped shut and he heard the hiss of air being sucked out.
He was aware that Dr. Walker had unstrapped and walked over to peer into the cockpit.
“Whoa,” he said. “I did not sign up for that.”
For a few seconds, Tim feared he’d started a rebellion from their passengers.
Indeed, they did shift their feet and murmur.
But none of them unstrapped. He heard a bird squawk and looked around.
It was a relief to realize that Dr. Walker’s side chick didn’t have two heads—one an avian head.
He did wonder why they’d brought a bird to meet aliens.
It was possible they didn’t know how to unstrap themselves, but Tim suspected there was an element of not wanting to know what was happening. He did not blame them for this. Knowing wasn’t that great.
Tim heard the outer hatch opening, a sound confirmed by the controls. He stepped up and closed it, then began the process of equalizing it with their side.
“What’s it like out there, Trac,” he asked, when Trac didn’t speak.
Instead of words, he received a file to his implants. He opened and studied the results. There was no question the outer atmosphere was hostile to humans, but it lacked the corrosive power to eat through his gear.
He dropped his faceplate and opened the now-ready airlock.
“Tim.” Riina’s voice was tense.
He looked at her, wished he knew how to use language that would reassure her. He wasn’t human enough yet for that.
Perhaps she realized it because her lips trembled in a sort of smile.
“Be careful. Come back safely.”
For her? He would try. He nodded and stepped into the narrow tube.
It was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic. The hatch slid closed, brushing against his back. The air began to hiss out.
Rinna waited until she heard Tim declare himself clear, then turned back to the cockpit.
She took the pilot’s seat this time and worked on the video feed.
After a period of reluctance, it flickered fitfully, then steadied, giving her a view of Tim and Trac standing a few feet from the shuttle’s nose.
They didn’t appear to be doing anything, but then she noted data arriving to her system from Trac.
She dragged her attention off the view of Tim and tried to focus on it. After a minute, she realized she didn’t understand the readings. And she wasn’t sure the ship’s systems—including Veirn—knew how to read it either.
“Veirn?” she murmured. She kept her voice low to keep from further agitating Drun.
Veirn helped by picking out familiar elements and other readings, but there were a lot of unidentified stuff in there, too.
She could have used the bigger databanks on the Quendala right now, though she wasn’t sure they would be a huge help if none of this matched with what they already knew.
Everything about this mission screamed not just first contact, but first contact. This entity or entities were new. Much of their elements were new.
She felt her breath huff out a bit at the thought of encountering something truly new.
Though she hadn’t herself experienced this, she’d been on site as new and interesting data had reached them from their research teams. It had caused enormous excitement.
It was what fueled much of what they’d done.
Had any of them been in a situation like this back then?
The Garradians had been about and been for research until…she sighed. Had they lost their courage and their curiosity during their long sleep?
She couldn’t answer yet for her courage, but she could put her curiosity to work again. She could remember having it back in the day.
She bent her head to the data, her attention on the unfamiliar now. It was hard to concentrate with a clock ticking in her head—a clock she hadn’t turned on but was still there.
What was going to happen soon? And why did she have a feeling that the entities were worried about it. Which meant she needed to worry, too.