Alien Caller (61 page)

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Authors: Greg Curtis

Tags: #agents, #space opera, #aliens, #visitors, #visitation, #alien arrival

BOOK: Alien Caller
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She didn’t
disappoint them. Once she had their attention, she set out the
ground rules; no shouting, no holding the devices up that they were
about to show them so that they could be seen from afar, and no
discussion of them anywhere near the supply depot. As she told them
in no uncertain terms, if the Mentan found out what they had, all
hope was lost.

 

Finally she
told them what David had brought, and then made him explain how
he’d got them, while they were passed around the group. Some of the
layman among them listened closely to him, and only looked briefly
at the devices before passing them along. Others, the technologists
he assumed, ignored everything he said and refused to pass the
devices on as they studied them intently. It was a very mixed
group.

 

But as a group
they had all the skills he could have hoped for. All seven of the
Mentan’s devices were identified, several with considerable
enthusiasm. As Cyrea had thought one was a communicator, used
specifically for speaking between nearby ships or cities. It didn’t
have the range to reach other worlds, but with time and the right
tools, it could be adapted to reach ships within a few light years
at least.

 

Another was a
Mentan personal power pack, with enough energy to run most of the
devices for a year or more. Several eyes started boggling when they
saw it, and Cyrea had to repeat her warning about keeping their
mouth’s shut. Apparently it was one of the things the Leinians had
always wanted to study more closely, and he had accidentally
managed to swipe it.

 

Several other
items were completely useless. One was the technological equivalent
of a foot brush, used to take dirt off the soles of the walking
tentacles. Instead of bristles though, it used ultrasonics. Another
was a personal stereo, which played only the drum beats that
Mentans loved to hear continuously. No doubt their particular
jailer would now be very unhappy at no longer being able to hear
his soothing sounds. It was something David thought he could live
with.

 

The other items
were tools. One was a scanner, used for examining the structures of
metals and other minerals, another a tiny precision cutter for
shaping tiny components and the last a welding device. It seemed
Mentan’s were notorious for their love of hand tools. Which made
sense given the number of hands or tentacles they had.

 

Finally Cyrea
gathered all the gadgets back up, sensing imminent disaster if she
didn’t. The technicians wouldn’t let them go, and no doubt would
sooner or later have brought them in range of the depot.

 

In time she
managed to organize the rabble into three groups. One to salvage
anything they could from the pods to help build a camp. The second
to see what was in the depot and do the same. The third group,
comprised almost totally of the technicians, was to start putting
together a plan to use the gadgets to build a transmitter. They
were specifically forbidden to leave the clearing, and the ship’s
captain was placed in charge of making sure they didn’t. It was a
role Gal took seriously, but then he had reason. He’d lost his
ship, let his passengers down, and even though it wasn’t his fault,
David could see the pain in his heart only too clearly. He would do
anything it took to get them home.

 

David and Cyrea
went to help with the depot, glad to be free of the technicians who
even then were starting to brainstorm in their own unique dialect;
one which his translator couldn’t convert into anything even
vaguely close to English. They were excited by what they had, but
not cohesive. As each one came up with a theory, five others would
take the idea and advance it into something even more fantastic,
while the rest would shoot holes in it. But at least they were
trying.

 

The depot
itself was little more than a small steel cabin piled high as the
Mentan had said, with supplies. Most of them were food and
clothing, but there were also some basic medical supplies and
hygiene products. It was enough and David knew he should be
grateful for that mercy. On the other hand the food was army
rations, which he had no doubt they would all tire of in due
course. But it was also what they needed; nothing flash, just high
potency concentrates to which they could just add hot water. There
was enough stored in the depot for them to last at least a year.
And there was also a message from their captor, saying he’d restock
them before that. So they weren’t going to starve at least. On the
other hand, the thought of being stuck here for an entire year was
possibly even worse.

 

The ship’s
doctor quickly managed to identify the medical kit, and started
familiarizing himself with the contents. From the grunts, he seemed
to be moderately happy with it, something else for which David had
to be grateful. With Cyrea only three or four months from term, a
doctor was very much needed.

 

The strange
thing was that as he stood there going through the supplies, David
felt oddly confident. It might be an alien world with who knew what
dangers. Cyrea might be pregnant. And there might be little hope of
getting home. But in a way it was also a survival exercise, and
he'd done so many of those when he was in the army that he thought
he could get them through.

 

He had the
skills to survive practically anywhere on Earth. Maybe he had what
he needed to keep them safe off Earth as well?

 

The skills he
lacked were the ones to get them off this world.

 

Chapter
Thirty

 

After two weeks
on the planet, David was actually becoming bored with the novelty
of it all. Bored on an alien planet! It was something he would once
have never have believed possible and yet it was still happening.
Yellow skies, odd odours, strange trees and stranger creatures
simply didn’t impress him any longer, and the hard work of trying
to build shelters and survive no longer monopolized his time. It
didn’t help that he was frustrated as he was completely unable to
help the crew as they built or tried to build their radio. The
science of it was completely beyond him, and in any case, the techs
would shoo anyone else away. Then they’d spend the rest of their
time arguing with one another as far as he could tell. But at least
they were trying, and while they were trying, there was hope.

 

He’d taken to
exploration instead, something he knew had to be done even if the
others had repeatedly warned him about it. The valley was safe. The
Mentan had made sure that no large creatures could enter it by
erecting a small force field around it, and none of the small ones
posed much of a threat. They didn’t even bite. But ultimately David
knew they would have to leave this valley, if only because in a few
generations, if they didn’t get away from here, they would need to
start growing food. There were eleven couples among them, and all
of child bearing age. People being people and with no form of
contraception available to them, that meant there would be children
in time. Children born in a prison. That couldn’t be allowed to
happen.

 

Cyrea in
particular was worried by his wandering, but she knew she couldn’t
stop him. Instead she just made him promise every time he went out
to be careful, and he made sure he kept his word. Besides, he knew
if he came back quickly and undamaged she would reward him in their
makeshift tent as a conquering hero. But if he was late, or hurt
himself, he’d be better off sleeping outside in the rain. Not that
Cyrea would allow him that mercy.

 

He suspected
that part of the reason she didn’t try to stop his exploration, was
that she also knew it had to be done. They might be here a very
long time, and he was the biggest, strongest and best trained of
them for the work. He had the best chance of success. Like it or
not it had to be him and it had to be done. So instead she let him
go and fretted.

 

The surrounding
land outside their valley was in some ways very similar to the
wilds of South Africa. Inside the valley the trees were randomly
dotted everywhere among the grasslands; outside they formed vast
conglomerations twenty and thirty meters high, and were surrounded
by miles of burnt looking savannah, while small rivers slowly
meandered their way between them. But in many other ways it was
completely alien to everything he’d ever imagined. The trees, the
animals, the smells and even the sounds were all wrong. He could
understand them after a fashion, and in time he knew he’d meld much
more smoothly into it, but that would be some time away.

 

For the moment
he had to stay alert, never knowing from which direction a threat
might come. In the forests he’d discovered it was the pools of
water around which the trees grew, which were the main threats.
They were the hubs of life for the community, but just like earthly
lakes and rivers, they had their crocodiles. They even looked like
them, evolution having designed the same sleek shaped killer with
far too many teeth here as well. Only their brown leathery skin and
extra legs really separated them.

 

On the plains
though, there was a completely different predator to worry about. A
long legged greyhound that specialized in hiding in the long orange
brown grasses, and leaping out at unsuspecting prey. The first time
he’d seen one, David had nearly suffered a heart attack. The thing
was simply so fast and had so many teeth that it unnerved him, and
its camouflage was perfect. But he was a lot bigger than its normal
prey, which was a six legged slug shaped sheep, and the hunter
ignored him completely. No doubt he smelled bad and looked strange.
While there were alien sheep around he would be safe. Still, he
made certain to carry a makeshift spear with him at all times, and
in the camp others were working on crafting bows and arrows. Just
in case.

 

But there were
other dangers as well. Some of the plants were more active than
those of Earth. They tended to slowly writhe and wriggle even when
there was no wind. Some had nasty hooks, like little claws, which
they’d wrap around a limb and then pull. The result was a wound
that looked like a gaping maw. He’d gained a few small ones of his
own until he’d discovered their secret. Sheep that were stupid
enough to wander into a patch of the predatory plants, generally
made it out though, minus a lot of green blood.

 

The birds too
could be dangerous, and several times he’d looked up to find
himself being dive bombed by a four winged bat. No doubt it was
simply defending its territory or nest, and he’d wandered too
close. But it was still alarming. Thankfully, they never made
contact. No doubt if they frightened him he scared them too.

 

Food and raw
materials were his main concern for the present. They couldn’t
count on their captor bringing those supplies forever, which meant
they’d have to work out what they could scavenge locally. They’d
also have to work out how to build proper accommodation as the make
shift shelters they’d pulled together out of the remains of the
pods weren’t particularly large or sturdy and in time they’d need
more. And so it was he spent most of his time hunting small
animals, gathering what looked like fruit and bringing back species
of plant that he thought might be useful. Important work, but still
not what he’d planned on doing when he’d left Earth.

 

Disease
however, was the scariest threat. Within days of arriving here, the
entire party except him had fallen ill with a mild fever. Nothing
dangerous, and no-one had needed more than a day’s rest, but even
so the warning was real. This world was not truly safe and the
sooner they got off it the better.

 

Cyrea at least
was still doing well. The Mentan had left them a complete medical
kit, and first thing they’d done was to check her out. The baby was
still safe, three months away or just less from arriving in the
world, and her mother was in good shape. She was angry about losing
her shape, though she hid it well and he kept telling her how good
she looked which was only the truth. She was really more angry
about being so restricted in her physical capabilities with the
baby on board. Especially on an alien planet.

 

But if
physically she might not be up to her usual routine, emotionally
she was far ahead of the game, and had pretty much taken charge of
the camp. This mother to be was not about to let anything interfere
with the safe birth of her daughter. Oddly enough the others,
including David, found it comforting to have her take charge.
Rightly or wrongly, she gave them a sense that she knew what she
was doing, and that was precious beyond belief in this strange
place.

 

“Ouch!”
Something narrow and sharp stabbed into his toe and David couldn't
keep from crying out a little. The damned thing hurt.

 

Careful as he
was to meld into the background and not disturb the wildlife,
sometimes things just went wrong, and he hobbled about holding his
toe, looking for the offending rock he’d kicked. It wasn’t the
first. This was the last time he wore thin sand shoes on an
interplanetary trip he promised himself. They just weren’t up to
it.

 

Rooting around
in the long grass he found the offending object with his fingers,
and set about pulling it up, surprised by its sharp hook. Clearly
it was an unusual shape for a rock. It was also buried quite well,
and wouldn’t come. Instead he started flattening the grass around
it, trying to get a look at it.

 

In time he
could make out the top of the rock projecting from the flattened
grass, and he saw that it was a stone, if a bizarrely shaped one.
It was maybe a foot round at the base, and went down into the
ground, so underneath it could be much larger, while at the top it
tapered to a thin cone which was bent over at the top. And that
sharp point was what his toe had run into.

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