Alien Alliance (9 page)

Suddenly one day there was a commotion and
several Nashi entered. They were gestured out the door and into a
loading chute leading to a large spaceship shuttle which lifted off
after it was crammed full. He recognised the model. It was a
freight or troop carrier. A basic model with no seats. He felt the
typical sensation of nausea indicating they were going up rapidly.
Presumably to a spaceship. A while later it sounded like they were
docking. They were then unloaded into a slave pen. He recognised
what it was from news pictures of such Hell holes. There were no
explanations. Kaswa looked around again for Aswin. The pen held
about 100, a mix of at least 15 different Races. The doors had
closed. There was the usual dispenser of paste and water and the
usual holes in the ground (deck in this case), for elimination. No
privacy. Nothing else. At least the pen didn’t stink yet but he
sure did. There were no ways to see out so he had no idea what kind
of a ship this was.

There were none of his Race here, so he
again stayed with the Zeobani. There was little conversation. Most
just sat or stood. There were no perches for Avians. There was
nothing but the hard floor. One Clet was present, but it looked
like it was dying. The Clets were uncomfortable standing as their
feet cramped after a while of being forced to lie flat against a
hard surface. Kaswa did not know if it was the same Clet. He went
over to see if he could help it but it ignored him. They had no
Translators and the Zeobani seemed to be the only Race here that
could speak to some others in their own languages. They could speak
at least ten languages between them, his included. And they all
spoke Main, the language of space. Kaswa knew a little of it,
enough to qualify as a pilot, but the Zeobani, being good mimics,
spoke it well. That was the trouble with good Translators; one
tended to rely on them. Now, without technology, they couldn’t even
communicate with each other.

The awful journey continued for what seemed
like weeks and probably was. He had lost track of time. Finally,
they were loaded into shuttles again and sent off. By the sounds,
Kaswa thought they might be landing on a planet. But which one?
Were they now to be sold? They were unloaded onto a planet Kaswa
didn’t recognise. The sun was blinding after the dim lights of the
slave pen but it was hot. He shivered despite the warmth. There
were bodies on the ground and they had to move among them to get to
where they were being directed to go. Finally, they were addressed
by a member of the Keulfyd Race. Kaswa was shocked to see they were
surrounded by different Races, all armed. Seeing Relogs, he
shuddered. Nearly as trigger happy as Nashi. At least all these
Aliens had Translators. Had they already been sold?

It spoke slowly and waited while the
Translator boomed out in multiple languages, one after the after.
“Don’t eat the food here, it is poisoned. The water is safe. Return
to the plane you came on by dusk. You are to bring all the bodies
over to the planes and load them in. Go into those buildings and
throw the bodies out the windows and doors. You are then to load
them into the planes. After several minutes the Translator stopped.
“Move or die!!” thundered out in Main. A pilot, Kaswa understood
that!

They moved. Kaswa was bewildered wondering
what they meant as he headed for the buildings. Inside was abject
horror. Bodies everywhere, all different Races. Several of the
Zeobani, along with Kaswa, checked for life signs. There were none.
They were all dead, recently, but how? There were no obvious signs
of violence.

“This may be gas?” Asked Kaswa of a
Zeobani.

“That could be. They look like they dropped
dead.”

“What is this planet? It doesn’t look
familiar. The sky is the wrong colour.”

“I don’t know. It looks like the Nashi have
sold us to the Keulfyd who are using us for what? A war? Have the
Nashi attacked another planet? Maybe they are in this together?”
The large Keulfyd that had addressed them was walking around the
buildings, yelling at the slaves to get moving.

Most of the slaves were doing just that,
obeying orders. Kaswa was shocked at the speed at which so many had
given up. No fight left in them. No curiosity. They were apathetic
and egocentric. Very few tried to help others. Very few noticed
others.

They started to haul bodies outside towards
the plane. Many of the bodies had started to smell. The weather was
hot. Some of the bodies had released excrement as they died. Some
of the smaller Races were cleaning this up. They all automatically
kept going. The work was dangerous as bodies were literally being
flung out the windows and off the landing pads. Kaswa found it was
safer to be in the buildings doing the throwing rather than
possibly being underneath falling bodies. He stayed near the
Zeobani who had reached the same conclusion. The Zeobani were one
of the smallest Races, being the mass of a six year old of Kaswa’s
Race. But they were strong for their size, their tentacles made for
grasping and holding on. They could pull or drag bodies, but they
couldn’t lift them up. So they stayed in the buildings and dragged
the bodies to the Avian entrances for others to toss out. Twice,
Kaswa saw one lift up and cuddle a dead member of their own race.
Surreptitiously, they checked for identification before they
disposed of the body.

The ghastly day wore on as Kaswa’s muscles
started to ache and his stomach soon protested its state of
emptiness. That would teach him to skip breakfast. His mother was
always on at him for that. But he was not an early riser like
Aswin. He always tried for an extra few minutes in a warm bag. She
had given up as he got too big to drag out of his bag and packed
him extra lunch which he nibbled at all day after his stomach
decided to wake up. He never understood how People could wake up
and be alert. And eat. His mother always said he dragged himself
through the first few hours of the day on auto pilot. All his
senior school assignments were done after tea. Many, he finished in
the wee hours of the morning, the house quiet with everyone else
asleep.

Kaswa thought of everything he could except
what he was doing, as he piled bodies up onto the Avian entrances
on each floor. He dragged them out onto the Avian landing pads and
pushed them over the edge.

Ignoring the horror of what he was doing, he
thought back. They had thought it all through over many nights.
Aswin would pilot first and Kaswa later in the day and through the
first half of the night. It would be perfect. He wondered if there
would be a possibility of stealing a plane here, or a spaceship.
After two years of self directed training, they could fly anything.
The simulators were brilliant. After 100 hours flight time and
passing the exam set by the simulator, you could sit the practical
test and qualify after a few lessons on the actual planes. This was
another reason they had gone to fight for the Zeobani; the
training. It was cheap! Once you passed the exam set by the
simulator, half the money you had put into the simulator for
lessons was refunded into your account. That was enough money to
pay for the practical exam, the medical, the registration fee and
the license.

The Zeobani found that that little incentive
spurred on the procrastinators while the charge inhibited People
using the simulators just for fun. An interchangeable board changed
the control panels to allow for claws, paws, hands, tentacles,
fins, beaks and brushes, in small, medium and large. Not quite one
size fits all. There were three different sizes of standard
cockpit. Niseyen were lucky. They could fit in small or medium so
they seldom had to wait for the right size simulator to be free.
Many of the latest simulators had walls and a roof that could
concertina out.

The day was almost over before his brain
started to work. There were multiple planes here from multiple
slave lockers. He’d switch planes every night until he found Aswin!
The Keulfyd wouldn’t notice, he was sure and he hadn’t seen any
Nashi. He guessed he’d been sold to the Keulfyd. But where was he?
This city looked newish. Problem was, there were so many planets.
He couldn’t see if there was any climate control here. And it could
be off. He had tried the Cleaners but all power was off. As dusk
neared, Kaswa went to another plane and boarded.

Reaching a new slave locker, he searched it
while the slaves jostled and fought each other for food. No Aswin.
Finally, he got some food for himself. He ate all he could having
learnt that lesson. He then curled up next to some Zeobani and
slept.

The next day was a grim repetition. The
Keulfyd were careless with the lives of the slaves. Some were
killed by flying bodies. Any injured either got themselves onto the
planes or were loaded with the dead. Every morning there were more
dead slaves. Kaswa never found out what happened to the dead but
the planes headed out to sea and he wondered if they were dumped
into the ocean. This was now the second city he had seen. That
night he changed planes as usual. Searching the slave locker, he
saw a familiar profile and went over coming up behind. A quick
glance at his face and he bowled him over hugging him in joyful
exuberance.

The second day, the adults thought surely
today they would find out who had invited them here? Not knowing,
was worrying most of them but not the children. The morning saw
almost all the adults (except the diplomats), and all the children,
heading off to explore. While the adults were talking, Donny
persuaded the little kids to come with him up to see Helkmid. He
explained on the way. Helkmid was delighted to see children. In
turn, the children were fascinated to see their organs working on
the scanners as Helkmid had them drink funny stuff and they watched
on the scanner as it travelled around their insides. They giggled
at their X rays. They were both happy and fascinated to give blood
as Helkmid used an anaesthetic so the needle wouldn’t hurt. They
thought their brain scans were a hoot.

Helkmid would have the child under the
scanner do a puzzle while the others watched the colour changes in
the brain which showed which part of the brain was being used to
solve the problem.

Helkmid was intrigued with the friendliness
of the children and their incessant curiosity. He was also
intrigued with their obedience. If he told them not to touch, they
didn’t. They were also very trusting. If he told them something was
safe, they believed him.

Physiologically, he noted the huge areas of
the brain that were almost in idle mode and underused and he
commented. Mahmoud confirmed that. “Dad tells me we only use 15-20%
of our brains. We don’t know what the rest is for. Helkmid wondered
if he was hearing right. How could they not know the significance
of this? He knew. He knew exactly what this pattern of use
indicated. He had seen this before, not often, but a few times.
Their brain scans looked familiar as did they, sort of. Finally, he
had done all the tests he wanted and the children ran back out
hoping their parents were finally ready to go exploring.

After the children had gone, Helkmid decided
to pick one male and one female and map their genetic code. He
chose Donny and Stella as they were young adult. He was unsure
whether the smaller children would have all their genes developed
although it was almost certain they would. He wondered what he
would find but his scanners were adamant; Niseyen.

Soon, only Mathew and his Team, Sarah and
some of her Team, and some of the Diplomats remained. The rest were
off sight seeing.

Mathew and Sarah, separately, went down to
the lobby to try to explain that they were waiting to be contacted.
But the lobby staff knew nothing.

Donny, returning for some food, found Simone
and persuaded her to take Dieter to see Helkmid. Helkmid was
delighted to see a baby. He said,

“A baby will tell me so much about your
People and I can then determine about many of the environmental
issues that affect your People.”

Simone was fascinated as Helkmid showed her
Dieter’s scans and pronounced him healthy. She was even more
interested in the Machines.

Donny explained,

“It’s like they tell the body what it should
be like and how to fix itself. Like giving each cell a new
blueprint. Do they also supply any bits that are missing like
minerals?”

“Yes. The Healer estimates what will be
needed and this is encapsulated under the skin and slowly released
as needed. This helps the body rebuild itself after an injury. It
is easy to tell the body to switch on genes to grow back a finger
for instance. The difficult part, was ensuring the genes switched
off when the repair was completed. Otherwise a fatal overgrowth can
occur and the genes grow out of control. To prevent this, we
programme enzymes that restrict the genes.”

“That overgrowth sounds like cancer,” Simone
said. Simone also remembered a woman she had worked with who had
had Siamese twins. They had been separated but had only one leg and
one hip each and had had to share some of their internal organs.
Only one set of reproductive organs meant that only one could have
children. They were girls. She explained this to Helkmid.

“Oh yes. That occurs in other People. That
is fixable but does take a lot of time for the bodies to fix; about
four to six months depending how much must be rebuilt. It is
fascinating to watch the bodies grow complete and finally separate.
Most gratifying. Some of those we treat freely. Some are paid for
by their own People but it is very expensive. They must be in the
Machine for about 26 hours. We charge by the quarter hour.
Sometimes we put a batch through. We can make compartments up
inside the machine so it can take as many as ten the size of your
little one here. But the Machines will only take on one type of
programme at a time. So although we could put in ten little bodies,
they would all have to be of the same Race if they are in the same
Machine.”