Read Barbarian's Touch: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 8) Online
Authors: Ruby Dixon
I pull my spear a little tighter to my body, feeling more comfortable with it in my grip. I point at the open entrance. “Are we going in there?”
Rokan nods.
“Whose ship is that?” I ask. Is there another group of aliens I’m unaware of? Is there more going on? I rub my forehead, frustrated at the gaping holes in my communication. For all I know, he’s been leading me back to the bad guys and I’d have no clue.
But as soon as that idea crosses my head, I dismiss it. Rokan wouldn’t do that. I trust him. He’s good to me, and sweet. That isn’t it. I’m still confused, though.
Rokan thinks for a moment, and then makes a few gestures that I don’t follow. He signs
people
, but I don’t know what people he’s referring to.
He points at the entrance and then makes the
talk
sign.
“Are there people in there?” I rest my spear on my shoulder and make the
people
sign. “Other aliens? Other humans?” Is that who is going to teach him sign language? Are we going to go talk to them?
He shrugs, and I’m just more confused. So we didn’t come here looking for people? What did we come looking for?
My worry must show on my face. He moves toward me and takes my hand in his, then squeezes it. He’s asking me to trust him. I gaze up into his alien face, with its ridged brows, fangs, big curling horns, and glowing blue eyes. If I can trust a guy that looks like a demon to save me from car-sized man-eating pterodactyls, I guess I can trust him a few more steps into a spaceship, right?
I put my hand in his and nod. “Lead on.”
We take a few steps inside the ship and, well, I’m not really sure what to think. The first room we enter is immense, and reminds me a bit of a warehouse or a large garage. The walls are dark and covered in ice in some parts, but the center of the floor has a few logs, sitting stones, and pillows gathered around a burned-out fire pit. There are rolls of blankets and woven baskets tucked into one corner, and spears resting against a wall with flickering, lighted panels. It kinda reminds me of one of the hunter caves. Which is also strange. “Does someone live here?”
He makes a
yes
gesture, and then a moment later shakes his head and gestures back out of the cave. So someone does live here, but maybe not right now? Or used to live here and doesn’t anymore?
There’s a set of double-doors off to the far side of the broken-down hangar, and another large door that’s permanently jammed half-open. Rokan is watching me, so I pull off my snowshoes, shake off my boots, and look around.
Wires hang from the ceiling, and the floor seems like lightweight metal. As I walk across, it feels a bit uneven in some spots, and there’s a long hairline crack running from one wall all the way down the middle of the floor. Several of the panels aren’t lit, and it’s clear that whoever’s spaceship this is, it hasn’t been very functional for a long time. I glance back at Rokan and he’s got his spear put aside and is crouching near the fire pit, sweeping out ash and prepping a new fire. We must be safe, then. If I was in any sort of danger, he’d be shadowing me, weapon in hand.
I relax a little and head for the propped-open door, peering inside. It leads down a long hall filled with many doors. The debris is bad here, wall-panels crumpled and the ceiling half collapsed. Living quarters of the old space-ship, maybe? The only thing I know about spaceships comes from television, so I’m just guessing. There’s a lot of dust and broken bits, though, so it’s clear to me that this area isn’t seeing much use from whoever lives here. I step over the crate-sized rounded boulder that’s holding the door open and head into the hall, but turn back after a few steps. If the floor felt uneven in the big room, it feels shaky in this area, and every door that’s open looks like it leads to more wreckage. It’s disappointing. I head back into the main hangar and over to the double doors. They slide open as I approach, like department-store doors. Kinda a neat trick. Here, the hallway is clean of debris and well-lit, and looks less derelict than the other end. These are the current living quarters, I’m guessing. While the place is empty and gives me a bit of the creeps, it’s at least seemingly in order. There are several doors along the hall and I move to the first one, trying to figure it out. There’s no door handle, and it doesn’t open for me when I approach. Curious, I move down to the next one, but get the same response. Huh. Maybe someone locked up? I head back to the main portion of the hangar.
Rokan gets to his feet, a broad smile on his face as he approaches me.
It’s hard not to feel warm and pleased at the sight of his happiness, and I smile back, though I’m confused. I gesture at the fire.
Me fire
?
T
he smile
my mate is giving me is sweet but bewildered. She does not know what this place is. I am a little disappointed, because I thought she would be like Har-loh. Har-loh is very comfortable here in the strangeness of the Elders’ Cave. She takes apart the walls and makes them talk to her. Even Shorshie and the other humans can make the walls talk. My Li-lah just looks at me, then moves to the fire and waits, expecting another lesson.
Perhaps they do not have caves like this where she comes from? Is her tribe very different than Shorshie’s tribe?
I need to talk to her desperately. I feel the ache rising in my chest. I need to be able to speak to her like I need air. I rub my jaw and return to the fire as she sets up the tripod and looks at me, a question in her eyes.
I do not visit the Elders’ Cave much. Though I am friendly with Har-loh and Rukh, our paths do not cross much. I have no human mate before now and received the human words when the others did. I do not know how to make the walls obey. I do not know what Har-loh says to the walls to make them do things.
I tilt my head back and pause, then try talking to the Elders. “I wish to speak to my mate.”
Silence. The walls do not answer.
I scratch my chin and think. The voice in the walls has a name. I have heard Har-loh say it before. I struggle to remember it.
Cu-hor
? No, wait.
Pew-hor
? It sounds right. “
Pew-hor
, speak to me.”
Pew-hor
does not respond.
Li-lah tilts her head at me. “Who are you talking to?”
I gesture at the cave and say the name again.
She watches my lips move, her brows furrowing. “Pu-hur? Wait, computer? There is a computer here?” She makes an unfamiliar gesture.
I repeat it. That does not wake the walls, either, so I try her name for it. “
Com-pew-hor
, I wish to speak to my mate.”
“I do not understand your question,” the walls call out in sa-khui. “Please re-state your question.”
“I wish to speak to my mate,” I tell it again, eager. It is talking to me now.
“Who are you talking to?” Li-lah asks, a wary look on her face. She glances behind her. “Is someone else here?”
I take her hand and squeeze it in mine. I do not know the words yet. But I shall very soon, and then I will explain it all to her. I kiss her knuckles, and then speak to the
com-pew-hor
again. “
Com-pew-hor
, I wish to learn my mate’s language.”
“Assisting with languages is one of the many functions of this unit. Do you know the name of the language you wish to study?”
“Hand-speak,” I say proudly, and kiss my mate’s knuckles again.
There is a quiet pause, and then the walls speak again. “This system does not recognize that language. Please specify: what is the planet of origin for the language you wish to learn?”
I frown, rubbing my mate’s knuckles.
Plah-net? Or-gen?
“I wish to learn hand-speak,” I say again. “I do not know what else to call it.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Li-lah says, worry on her face as she stares up at me. “This is freaking me out. If you’re not talking to me, who are you talking to?”
I make a frustrated sound and stare at the walls. “I wish to learn hand-speak. My mate cannot hear sounds and I wish to speak to her.”
The smooth voice speaks again. “I am hearing two languages. Would you like for this computer to switch to Human English for the default language?”
“Yes? I want to learn hand-speak. My mate cannot hear mouth-speak. She does not hear sounds.”
There is another pause. “Is one in your party hearing
dis-ay-buhld
?”
I try not to snarl, because it will alarm Li-lah. “I do not know this word.”
“I am sorry, but I do not understand your response.”
I make a strangled sound of frustration.
“I am sorry, but I do not understand your response,” the walls repeat. “Please be more specific.”
“My mate cannot hear you,” I grit out. “I need to learn her hand-talk.”
“Is one in your party hearing
dis-ay-buhld
?” It asks again.
“She is not hearing,” I agree, uncertain if that is what it is asking. Why does it not talk with normal sa-khui words?
“Would you like a
vis-yoo-all ter-muh-nal
for
in-puht
of commands?” It asks.
I do not understand. But telling it this again will get me nowhere. “Yes?” I say again, warily. I worry I will have to return to the home cave and retrieve Har-loh and her mate to make the walls talk properly.
Off to the side, a portion of the cave wall flickers. Scribbles of light appear and wiggle across the stone. It means nothing to me, but Li-lah makes a strangled sound and jumps to her feet, ripping her hands out of mine.
Curious, I follow her.
There’s a computer here.
I mean, of course there’s a computer here. This is a spaceship, right? There’s lights in the walls and technological looking stuff, so it makes sense that there’s a computer system running things. The words scrolling across the wall look a lot like a command prompt if a girl ever saw one, but it’s not in a language I recognize. Is this who Rokan’s been talking to for the last few minutes? I’ve been racking my brain, trying to understand if he was talking to someone through an intercom, or to me, or what it was.
But it makes sense that there’s a computer here, and he’s giving it verbal cues. He must have let it know that I need to type, and now it’s responding. I touch the wall where the words are appearing. I don’t see a keyboard, and I don’t know the language.
“Ask it to type in English,” I tell him, my gaze flicking between the wall and his face. I don’t want to miss anything.
He tilts his head back again and says something, lips moving.
A moment later, the words on the wall change.
Greetings. We will use Human English as the default setting until otherwise notified. Do you wish a terminal to enter your answers? If so, press the button at the base of the screen and a touch-sensitive input pad will be made available.
I drop to my knees and run my hands along the wall, excited. There’s a tiny hole that feels like it might be where the button in question used to go, but it’s also broken. I shove my finger in there anyhow and hammer at it.
Something moves and there’s a hint of air that wafts over my face, then a black pad half-ejects from the wall, and then gets stuck. Rokan grabs his knife, but I wave a hand at him to call him off before he can stab it. I need this thing. It’s about the size of a book, and very flat - kind of like an iPad. I smooth a finger across the surface, just in case it acts like one, too.
At my touch, it lights up and several circles appear, each one with a letter of the alphabet in it. It doesn’t look like they’re in order like a QWERTY keyboard, but I can use this.
I press my fingers to my lips, thinking, and then type.
where am i
There’s no punctuation or capital letters on the thing, but the computer screen responds a moment later, filling with numerals and a word that I don’t understand. All right, space coordinates help me none. I stare at the math formula on the screen and try a different tactic.
visual map of area
It shows me a picture of the nearby hills. Again, not super helpful. I keep typing.
geographical map
continental map
The screen changes again, and this time I see continents. The world looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. There’s a massive body of water off to the left of the continent I’m on, dotted with islands and what look like big floating chunks of ice. Actually, most of what I’m looking at looks like an ice floe. There’s not really a green-belt that I can see, and the three continents on the screen all seem to be just as icy as this one, even after I ask the computer to show me the equator.
We
are
at the equator. Well that’s depressing. I think for a moment and type again.
location of earth relative to current location
A star-map appears, galaxies zooming past before a tiny arrow pinpoints a small spot on the pinwheel of the Milky Way. Just seeing that makes me sick, and I have to fight back a sob of grief.
If I needed a slap in the face to remind me that I’m never going to get home? I just got one.
Rokan touches my cheek with a gentle finger, turning me to look at him. There’s concern in his eyes, and his tail is lashing in the corner of my vision. He’s agitated. Probably worried about me. He rubs my arm and there’s a question on his face.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, and manage a smile even as I make the
okay
gesture.
He points at my hand, then at himself, then at the screen full of words.
Right. We came here to learn a language. I flex my fingers and start typing again.
can you teach languages
Words quickly flit across the screen.
This ship’s artificial intelligence is programmed with over twenty-thousand common languages. Do you wish to receive a linguistic upload?
Now we’re getting somewhere!
i need my companion to learn asl
american sign language
The computer thinks for a moment, then words fill the screen again.
I do not recognize that language in my database. Did you mean Aslaanti?
This thing has twenty-two thousand languages and it doesn’t have the one I need? I’m utterly crushed. I bite my lip and look at Rokan. Maybe it knows it under a different name. Or…I look around the old ship and I get a new idea.
how long has this ship been on this planet
Emergency landing occurred 289 years ago. Please note that when this system references ‘years’, it is calculated based upon the orbit of this planet versus the planet Earth.
Okay, yeah. It wouldn’t know sign language. If the years here are anything like earth years, sign language hadn’t even been invented yet. Well, shit. I set the terminal pad down and walk away, because I need to think. I rub my fingers at my temples.
Rokan is there at my side a moment later. He takes my hand in his and then puts it to his chest, so I can feel his purring. The worry in his eyes is heartbreaking. He knows something is wrong.
I move forward and he wraps me in his arms, bear-hugging me. It feels good to be held. I close my eyes, feeling the purr of his chest against my cheek, and wishing I knew what it sounded like. I really wanted to talk to him, an honest-to-goodness conversation with no confusion. I wanted to not be the only one that knew sign language - well, other than Maddie, who isn’t here. I wanted us to really be companions, instead of me just being a burden.
I really, really hate being a burden. Bad enough that I’m dependent on him for food, shelter, and everything else. I wanted us to be equals about something.
I shouldn’t be upset. I’m teaching him sign language slowly, and our communication gets better every day. I just got my hopes up. That’s all. I slide my hands up and down his broad, warm back, and smile to myself. I can teach him.
Then, my eyes pop open as a new idea occurs to me.
I pat his chest to let him know I’m okay, then race back to the computer and pick up the keypad again. I mentally try to compose my question, and then type.
if there is a language in your database, can you teach it to someone
I can perform a one-time linguistic upload through an ocular light wave. It connects with the synapses in the brain tissue and refracts to carry the information to the cerebral cortex.
I flex my hands and read that twice, trying to understand. So sounds like a laser beam shoots the info into someone’s head. Okay. That sounds freaking ridiculous. But it also sounds like it has potential.
if i teach you my language can you teach it to my companion
Any information processed by this artificial intelligence can be transferred to a recipient.
so i can make a word bank and you can send that to his brain
Query: word bank?
a list of words and the translations
Affirmative.
I pump a fist, excited. Then I think for a moment and type again.
it is a visual language can I input visuals
Visuals are an acceptable format.
how do we get started
Simply let me know when you wish to record your visuals and we will begin.
I’m excited. It’s a daunting task, but it’s do-able. We take a day or two and I feed all the sign language I can possibly think of to the computer, and then it turns around and dumps the information into Rokan’s brain. There are so many signs that I’m mentally cringing a little trying to think of how I’m going to remember them all. What’s the best way to go about this? The alphabet, of course, but after that? I can start with common signs, or try to go alphabetically I type again.
do you have a dictionary or a list of words i can use as a starting point
Accessing a dictionary of English words and definitions. Where would you like them displayed?
I turn to Rokan with excitement, beaming.
The cave’s voice does not know Li-lah’s hand-speak. I am shocked and angry at this, until Li-lah explains to me with small, soothing pats of her hands that she will teach it, like she has been teaching me. She will tell it each gesture for every word she can think of. Then, it will in turn give me the language and I will be able to speak to her.
It will take many days, but she is determined to do so. She gives me a quick kiss and turns to the wall, and begins her work.
My Li-lah is so clever. I am humbled by her quick mind. She has solved this problem without my help, and as I watch her talk to the flashing words and move her hands, I am filled with pride.
My mate is wise.
My task, then, will be to make sure that she is comfortable. I pull one of the big, square pillows over to her place by the wall. I make sure her waterskin is full, and melt more fresh water for her. I would roast fresh meat, but I dare not leave my Li-lah alone in case of predators. They are scarce in this area but I will take no chances with her safety.