Ahrottl
smelled humans, old meals, and dust. The
smell of the ship. She opened her eyes.
She was
lying on the beanbag in the bridge, arms splayed out, and a blanket over
her. Maria sat in one of the control
chairs, watching a couple of live feed holos intently. Mother Superior, hovering as always over the
control panel, cleared her throat.
“Ahrottl
appears to be awake.” She said.
“Yes, yes
she does.” Ahrottl grumbled as she
stretched and shook herself out. She
rolled off the edge as Maria rose to help her.
“No,
I’m okay.” She said. Maria’s face was tear-stained and her eyes
were producing fresh moisture now. She
dropped to her knees and wrapped her long, gangly arms around her. Ahrottl nuzzled under her chin. “At least, I feel okay.”
“We were
so worried. You … you seemed to just
shutdown, go catatonic. Then you started
making strange noises… do you remember any of that?”
Ahrottl
closed her eyes and thought about it.
She fought the urge to Still. “Yeah,
I do. Did you record what I said?”
Maria
frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ahrottl
took a step back, still keeping contact but looking into Maria’s dark brown
eyes. “Right before I blacked out. Something…
something made me speak.
Seriously, as in something forced my mouth to move and words to come
out.”
Maria
shook her head, not comprehending.
“Gerry tried to get you to uncurl for a while, and then you started
screaming and making noises – Mother Superior assured us that it wasn’t your
language – and then you went limp.”
“Wait,
you didn’t understand that?”
“No…
should I have?”
Ahrottl
shook her head, staring through the port towards the grey, floating hulk. “Where’s Algernon?” She asked.
Maria
nodded towards the station. “He decided
to go back and explore. Clear up the bo…
the things that upset you and see what he could find.”
“NO!” Ahrottl romped past Maria, at full speed, to
the control board. “Algernon, can you
here me? Get out of there!”
“Yeah,
I can hear you, Throttle.” His head appeared, floating in space near Mother Superior. She hated how humans often projected images of
their heads alone when communicating through media like this; it made her think
of decapitation. “How’re you doing?”
“Algernon,
there’s something really wrong with that place.
Like, really, really wrong. Neither
you nor Maria understood it but something … told me. Something spoke through me back there. Like a, oh, I don’t know, a ghost or
something.” She looked around at Maria
who just looked concerned and Mother Superior who had raised one eyebrow haughtily.
“What? What are you talking about?”
Ahrottl
sighed. “Play back the noises I made
before I went unconscious.”
Mother
Superior raised her other eyebrow.
Ahrottl’s
whiskers twirled in frustration. “Please play them back, Mother Superior.”
Mother
Superior nodded slightly. “Very
well.” She said. An image of Ahrottl’s face, eyes bugged, her
jaw and face moving jerkily as she spoke appeared beside Algernon’s head. Ahrottl realized that she understood all of
the words that she was saying, though she’d had no prior experience with the
language. Then something clicked in her
mind.
“Listen
to it. Listen carefully.” Her eyes darted back and forth, watching the
reactions of the two humans and their artificial intelligence. Both Maria and Algernon’s eye widened
simultaneously.
“It’s
the language from the recordings! But
how are you speaking it?”
Ahrottl
shook her head. “I don’t know, but I
have a couple of theories. I do
understand it, though. At least, the
part I said. Here, try replaying one of
the earlier messages that we heard.
Please”
They
all listened carefully to the message that played when the probe had failed to
gain access before. Ahrottl said, “Shoowul – formal plural second
person. ‘Sta – definite article. Fush – leave, depart.” She bounced in place, writhing in
excitement. “I don’t understand all of
It, but I’ve got something that we can build off of at least. I understand a few words. “Misk
– in the original message it meant “warn”.
Oomisk might mean
warning. Could you play it again?”
“Wait,
wait, Ahrottl, what was the original message?
What did you say, if you understood it.”
Her
bouncing and writhing stopped. She
swayed gently. “Oh, right, you hadn’t
heard. ‘Leave this place. It is diseased, not with a disease of poison
or parasite but with a malady of perception and cognition. Cling to your ignorance and stay and share
our fate or leave and warn the others.
If this spreads all Raleli are doomed.
Quarantine and flee.’”
She
looked around again.
“The
name ‘Raleli’ does not match any information that I have access to.” Mother Superior said after a long moment.
Maria
glanced at Ahrottl and then at her AI.
“What… what could make this happen?
What, was it like a psychic recorded message?”
“I have
very little information on psi, I’m afraid.
Much of it is either historical or related to theological musings. Reviewing potential links…” She was quiet for a moment. Both the humans seemed to be holding their
breaths.
“The
Awakener first contact with a member of
the Collective seems to be relevant.
There was a Zig terraforming outpost on a planet inhabited by a renegade
Awakener sect, which spread infectious mental diseases psychically to the Zig
colonists. Many Zig are infected to this
day.”
“’… a
malady of perception and cognition.’” Ahrottl quoted herself.
“And
they do look like Vessels.” Algernon added, looking down at
something. Ahrottl glanced at the live
feed holo coming from his suit. Lying on
the floor beneath him was a desiccated corpse, human-like but leaner and more
angular, with more joints, dressed in a simple tunic and pants, its jaws pulled
back in a rictus.
“I
think Ahrottl is right, hon. I think
that you should get out of there. We’ll
try something else.”
Algernon
frowned and shook his head. “No, I don’t
think that that’s necessary. I haven’t
felt anything strange since I came down here.
I certainly haven’t gone loopy at all. We still need to figure out how to get back,
don’t we?”
“It was
insidious, though, Gerry. I didn’t know
what was happening until I started to spiral out of control.” Ahrottl insisted.
“Look,
Throttle, I can handle myself here. I
understand that you’re a pretty emotional creature, most of your species
is. Humans, though, we’re good at
keeping ourselves centered, keeping a solid head on our shoulders. We don’t…”
“Frenzy
like Taratumm?” Ahrottl cut him
off. “Run and hide like Vislin? Listen to what you’re saying, Algernon.”
“Hey,
I’m just pointing out facts. We’re
capable of being detached and level.
Hrotata are excitable creatures.
You’ve said so yourself.”
Ahrottl
was swaying very slowly, her eyes wide, her gaze darting back and forth between
the two humans. “Are you even listening
to what you’re saying?”
Gerry
sighed. “I know what I’m saying,
Throttle. I think you should probably go
get something to eat, maybe take a shower, and settle down before we speak
anymore. We don’t need to continue this
conversation.” He turned his eyes
towards Maria, who looked a bit surprised herself. “I’ve found twelve more bodies. I’ve passed what looks like it might have
been a decontamination unit, with a desk to the side and a pair of…”
Ahrottl
turned and wandered away, almost stumbling.
She had never heard Gerry speak that way to anyone before. Was he being affected by some sort of psychic
plague? Was he just under a lot of
stress? She numbly made her way to the
kitchen and unfroze some cheese and sat nibbling at it and sipping a bottle of
water, her mind spinning in place.
Hrotata
empathy was considered legendary around other species. If you’ve spent a bit of time with a Hrotata,
so it was believed, you couldn’t lie to them.
Ahrottl was keenly aware that she was not the most socially capable
member of her kind; far from it. Writers
and other artists that did not perform publicly were always considered a bit
emotionally stunted in Hrotata society, as though they needed filters between
themselves and their audiences. Ahrottl
had no grasp on what was going on in Gerry’s head, and though Maria was clearly
concerned she had a lot of confidence in her spouse.
Was he
going mad? Were they all? Away from contact with others, prospects of
getting home growing dim, and a huge, floating bloodbath being their only hope
of survival or information on how to find a way home.
She
couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. She had felt
something move her mouth and body for her.
She had felt it in her mind – enough to be able to recognize the words
that it had used later. She had no real experience
with psi, but she knew that something from outside of her had reached in and
affected a change in her. If it wasn’t
psi, than what was it?
If they
lost Gerry to this, then what? Down one
member of the crew, and Maria’s mate no less.
She’d follow him in there if she had to, and if she did there would be
no telling if she would make it back.
Ahrottl would be left alone, floating in a ship with two artificial
intelligences. She had frequently wished
that Mother Superior had a body that she could bite in agitation, but Timmy
wasn’t terrible company, even if he was a little naïve and unsure of himself.
That was an idea. “Timmy?”
She said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes
Miss Ahrottl. Are you all right?” Timmy’s
tremulous voice came over the kitchen speaker.
She
wiggled. “Better now. While Maria and Algernon are busy would you
mind helping me with something?”
“What
is it, ma’am?” He asked.
“Help
me compile and correlate the linguistic information that we have so far. Have all of the letters, numbers, and voice
recordings that we have available. If
Gerry finds anything new, beam it in here as well. We need to figure out what we can of this
language, and quick.” This was something
she could do, something that she knew how to do. Archaeological forensics was not her specialty. Language was.
“Let’s get cracking.”
Full-Throttle Ahrottl Chapter Links Page
Full-Throttle Ahrottl Chapter Links Page
The mark of a solid story is that you're left wanting more. Obviously, this one isn't 'done', so that's just a temporary irritation. I'll wait to complain until I've finished two whole stories myself.
ReplyDeleteOutside of that, yay language as a plot point. I sometimes get irritated at the psychic links and babel fish and other Universal Translators that simplify things in 'softer' science fiction. They skip over the real challenge of past and future history when cultures meet: communication. Authors that don't compromise on this might have a harder time fitting in eloquent dialogue, but they get to address some really interesting conflicts as a result.
p.s. and no fair using a 'Common tongue' to dodge the issue that way. I'm still not convinced grammar isn't species-specific, and you know phonology will differ along with vocal anatomy. Special exemption is made for Alan Dean Foster's Commonwealth setting, with its Symbospeech... something like an Esperanto evolved over a century of interaction between humans and the mantid Thranx. Again, embracing the problem and not escaping it.
ReplyDelete