Trade World Saga 1: Manual Interpretation (4 page)

Rett was thinking... since this device is just a more compact receiver than our devices, it is of no real advance to me. This native is becoming a burden…especially with its disgusting habits. Imagine when I gave it some water; it drank it right while I was watching. I did have a perverse curiosity about its habits though. Now I shall determine its level of progress. At least, it is acting sane.

"Do you know what a stressed space-field is?" Rett asked.

Andrew was preparing to say no when the flood of associative data and pictures flooded into his mind. Apparently, thinking of a word or concept would bring pictures of equipment or fairly complex explanations of that concept into his head. Realizing what the teaching machine had given him, Andrew now wished only to get back to the university.

"No, I do not," Andrew stated.

"Has your planet had any travel in space and how much?" Rett asked.

Andrew paused before replying. "We have sent manned
probes
to our moon and to some of this system’s planets and their moons. We have sent unmanned
probes
past all planets in our system and have sent two interstellar
probes
to a nearby star." Andrew didn't know how much this alien knew about Earth culture and thought it best to keep pretty close to historical fact. Andrew wasn't about to tell him that there had been no expeditions or probes for nearly forty years now, at least not since the last Mars mission in the early 30’s.

"What method did these space vehicles use for movement?" Rett queried.

"Most used chemical propulsion... but the two interstellar
probes
used some type of nuclear-
ionic
propulsion using Xenon accelerated by a strong electrical field." Andrew visualized strange visions of chemical propulsion and though the nuclear part seemed almost recognizable, the ionic method visualized with odd side thoughts at all and had to be referred to in my home language, not this garbage this alien was making me use but Xenon was clear as to what he actually called it…it translated to “a rare gas that does not mix well with other chemicals and releases a bluish-white light when flow magnetism is passed through it at low pressure.”

How primitive, chemical, this "nuclear-ionic" was probably some odd variation not worth my time, Rett thought. These people did pretty good to travel to
any
of their planets using chemical means. Rett thought about how his people had leaped into space in their early industrial age because of power supplies and field generators given by visitors to his planet. His people had traveled in space for many hundreds of years. How terrible it must be to live so close to each other as he had seem indications of large groups of buildings in some areas of the planet before landing. How could one live with the ideas and opinions of others unless forced to by being planet bound with the thin air and weak gravity of this planet.

"How long is your average life?" Rett asked, abruptly changing the subject.

This fellow gets to the heart of our nature, Andrew thought as he prepared his answer; "About ninety revolutions of this planet around the sun," he answered stretching a bit since it was that only in the States and a few other countries.

So brief, Rett thought, no wonder they quickly reached their level of technology. At least this means that they are better prepared to face death having so short a lifespan. Better to dispose of it now than to have it report my presence to its associates with some of the knowledge it has obtained through my language machine.

Andrew became very uncomfortable after answering because the alien just stood there dully looking straight ahead and not saying anything. What is it thinking about? Maybe I ought to try the Me Tarzan, You Jane thing again. At least, it gave him a start last time.

"My name is
Andrew
. What is your name?" Andrew asked trying to break the silence.

Again, this implied intimacy, Rett thought and his outrage and indignation caused him to hasten his timetable for disposal of the native. Rett leaped forward and grabbed one of the native's arms while preparing to grab the other so he could render the soft-skinned, sickening sweet smelling native into small pieces.

Damn, what did I say? Andrew thought as the alien jumped at him and grabbed him above his left elbow. The pain shot through him as he felt his left arm being crushed. Reflex came to his aid where calm rational thought had deserted him and cupping his right hand, he popped it over the alien's left ear hoping to rupture the eardrum. The alien let out an ear shattering bellow and clutched his damaged ear with its free hand but it tightened the grip on Andrew's arm.

As the pain washed through him, Andrew hit with his fist to the alien's general throat area but only hurt his hand on the tough skin. The alien then slung him around the room bellowing and holding its ear with one hand while holding onto Andrew's arm with the other and smashing him from one side of the room to the other. In desperation, with the room passing back and forth from wall to wall, Andrew jabbed his fingers of his right hand into one of the alien's eyes.

The alien began to bellow louder and smashed Andrew down onto the table but let go and started threshing around the room alternately trying to grab Andrew and its head at the same time.

Andrew jumped past the alien and made for something that looked like an exit to the room and came to a short closed corridor almost immediately. It was a door, but was it an exit? Andrew could hear the whimper and scream of the alien and this added impetus to his desire to escape this place. The door had a grip mechanism that took all of Andrew's strength with both hands to squeeze it, the pain from his left arm numbing his strength. Andrew put one foot against the wall and arched his back with the pull since the door appeared to open inward somehow. The door suddenly swung straight in and then slid to the right almost parallel to the right wall. Andrew thanked his luck and jumped down to the dirt only a couple of meters below the doorway. In the dim night air, Andrew stumbled and ran from the 'ship' without looking back. After running until his chest was burning, Andrew collapsed gulping for air. So much for interstellar diplomacy, Andrew thought as he passed out.

REVERSE ENGINEERING – NEW POWER

When Andrew came to, it was dawn and quite chilly. Every part of his body ached. His left arm was bruised deeply and quite swollen. Andrew could hardly swallow…his mouth was so dry.

This had better be a bad dream because I'm ready to wake up. The discomfort and outright pain seem real enough thought Andrew. Guess I’d better see about getting back to the university before dark.

I'd wager that my friends haven't even missed me yet. I wasn't supposed to meet anyone until Monday, before our group meeting.

It was early enough in the morning to see which direction the sun had risen from and there were still tracks on the ground showing the direction he had run from last night.

Damn. Now, I have to go back the way I came to get back to the vicinity of the university. There isn’t much of anything out in the direction I was headed except more of this desert. Too bad I didn't get a direction from the stars last night, so I'd, at least, have been heading right but I didn’t have time for a star sighting I guess. Andrew doggedly plodded along his tracks.

It wasn't tough going, but when you are totally exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, even a straight walk becomes a trial. It was a tribute to Andrew's physical conditioning that it only took the better part of an hour to stumble back to the area of the alien's ship.

Andrew lay in the dirt and rocks on a slight hill overlooking the
ship
. What a design. The damn thing wasn't nearly as big as I imagined. It was only about five meters in diameter. An upright gray cylinder about five or six meters high resting on a curved, gimbaled disc about seven meters in diameter with a large, round, mesh-like umbrella dish about the top of the cylinder. Tiny ship… compared to even the old, Russian or Chinese shuttles… even if anyone flew shuttles anymore…which they didn’t. There hadn’t been any manned flights that he knew about, in years. Hell. No one will believe anything about this…this incident…and space stories aren’t vogue…at all. People still don’t travel as much as they used to before the sickness years.

The door or hatch was open and was within reach of the ground, but there wasn't any ladder. Well, I know that I'm at least a day's walk away from the university, but that means walking without any water and hoping I end up near the car on my first try. I could be close to ten klicks to the car. That trip is going to be pretty rough with only scrub bushes and absolutely no survival tools. If he made it through this little ordeal, I’m never going to be caught flatfooted again with no plastic sheet to make a little solar survival still, no knife, and no fire starter kit. Quit bitchin’ he thought. I wonder why the ship’s still here. And not even an energy bar struck in pocket. Is it damaged? Well…I wouldn’t get anything done sitting here pondering will I? No time like the present to scope it out, he thought and he got up into a half crouched position.

As Andrew was edging back from the hill, he noticed some tracks in the dirt off to his left. Following them over the rise with his eyes in one direction, he traced them back to the ship! There was just one set of distinct tracks. There were other tracks -- earlier tracks already partially filled in from the steady winds in the area, but just he one set of new ones. That changes my statistics, Andrew thought, since the alien has left and hasn't returned yet.

Sprinting from the cover of the hill, Andrew crossed the open space quickly until he got to the edge of the cylinder below the hatch. He noticed how deep the tracks were below the hatch and finally realized how heavy the alien really was. Andrew marveled at his escape of the night before.

Andrew looked into the distance and then straining to hear any indication of another being, moved under the hatch. He had to jump to get his hands to reach the bottom of the opening and when his full weight was on his arms, he let out a whimper of pain. His arms seemed to be on fire as he struggled and got his chest over the bottom of the opening. He lay there panting; hanging half in and half out of the hatch. When he recovered sufficiently he got in and stood up; and trying not to touch any instruments, began to move toward the larger central room of the
ship
where he had been before.

It was only after he had gone a few steps that he had any thought as to automatic protective devices.

Well, I just hope that there aren't any. There are no labels on any of the instruments or on any cabinets, of course. I don't even know if that language training covered written language or if that language would even be the one I learned. I have to get some water and food.

When he thought of the word water and food, his mind provided many pictures from the language training. Maybe this could be useful, he thought as he realized a section of the room, which dealt with food and water.

He found a set of cabinets and alternately opening doors found a whole shelf of quasi-elastic balls with a nipple like opening. When he pulled one off the shelf, he noticed it had been attached to a detachable tube sticking out of the bottom of the cabinet. Shaking the ball produced a satisfying sloshing noise. After smelling the nipple, part of the container to make sure it wasn't some chemical cleaner or something similar, he put it to his lips and then jerked it back away.

I've gotta’ be crazy to be here and if I really am where I think I am. It's against all training to drink something because you think it may be water. I'm desperate; he thought as he eased the ball to his cracked, dry lips and sipped. The liquid seems to soak right into the lining of his mouth. Good, it is so good. All restraint gone, Andrew gulped half of the container before he realized drinking like this would just make him sick so he forced the glorious warm, flat water-ball from his lips. He took two more balls from the cabinet and stuck them inside his shirt.

Gingerly sipping from the first ball, he looked for food but gave up the search after he undoubtedly found it. He found a cabinet next to the water cabinet full of five different types of small wrapped rectangles of food. Even opening the cabinet released a smell that would cause the staunchest stomach to lurch.

Better stay sharp and be happy I found the water. Seeing his Mem-dex on the examination table, he slapped it on his wrist. Something familiar in these surroundings helped take the bite of fear out of the air somewhat. He saw the broken belt on a small workbench with a strong light pointed toward it. Two units on the belt were exactly split to show the interior parts in their complex array.

Andrew leaned over to see the belt with its heavy buckle fastening and as he did, he heard something from the entrance. Jerking the belt up and testing the heft of the belt for a possible weapon, he ran to the side of the entrance hatch.

He saw and heard the alien approaching about the same time Rett noticed him crouched in the entrance. Rett jerked a stubby cylinder, with a handle somewhere inside it, from his waist and pointed it at Andrew. Rett seemed to think better of shooting and lowered the obvious weapon.

The alien had no sooner lowered his arm until he bounded toward the entrance and leaped easily into the entrance. Andrew could see that the alien was off balance and he used this opportunity to attack.