The Fifth Civilization: A Novel (20 page)

“Still, you got yours on your own! Such a strong group of
Earthmen I have here! I will want to talk to you more, or at least read your
recountings when they are published. Surely you all will write books on this
subject, or dictate them. Do you think they’ll make a holofilm out of your
troubles? Earth holofilms are fascinating.”

“It’s possible,” Kel said.

“Do you by any chance have the location of the planet?”
Duvurn asked, tapping his spoon against the table, impatiently, as if this were
the point he’d been circling around. “There are a few freighters that head out
past Bauxa, resupply vessels for science outposts and other places. Perhaps
they have seen something in this general area.”

“I’m afraid, Your Excellency, that I don’t have the
information off the top of my head,” Kel said.

“And we can’t really discuss such matters,” David said,
putting his spoon diagonally across the plate. Roan saw that the Nyden’s areya
vo had been finished quickly and there was no trace of it left. He hadn’t even
seen it go down the man’s gullet. “I have been instructed not to reveal the
location to anyone else besides a select few, and that is just Captain Streb
and myself. It would be unfortunate if this information leaked out to unwelcome
parties, such as our pursuers in Erwo Seg.”

“Yes,” Duvurn said, clasping his hands together. He gave the
crew a once over, and the candlelight danced around his face. If Roan hadn’t
known better he’d say the good Prince was about to regale them with a campfire
horror story. “I don’t suppose there’s anything else you can really tell me
about this planet, is there?”

“I’m afraid not,” David said. Another bout of silence
plagued the room, punctuated only by the sound of Joseph scraping what remained
of the ice off his plate.

“Well, then,” Duvurn said, standing, and mostly serious now,
with only a hint of a smile. “I suppose that concludes business.”
 
He clapped his hands and the door behind
opened one last time, and servants with hovercarts again waddled out. “Please,
everyone, tell me how you enjoyed your meal—I will tell my cook about
your reactions.”

There were praises ranging from the delicious to the
wonderful, and the servants were politely thanked as they took away the trays.
The one that took away Roan’s half-eaten duc asked if he wanted it bagged and
sent to his room, but Roan shook his head. He hoped never to see that thing
again.

“It is late for me,” Duvurn said, and moved away from his
table. It was the signal that they could all do the same. The guests stood and
waited at attention for him to dismiss them all. Royal protocol, of course. “I
will be retiring soon, but if there’s anything my household can do for any of
you, just ask a servant. There are call buttons in each room. And feel free to take
any unlocked room you like; they are all free. My wives are away for the week,
so don’t worry about taking away space!

“I realize you plan to depart in the morning, but remember
that there will be breakfast here, in this room. I hope we can…catch up and
share some stories then.”

“Thank you, your Excellency,” Kel said, and she bowed
slightly. Duvurn walked over to her and shook her hand, which she again
awkwardly offered. Duvurn then bowed to David, who did the same, and then
simply waved to the other guests. And then he turned and disappeared with his
servants behind the door, hobbling as he walked.

“I have a suggestion,” Roan said to Kel once the Prince was
safely out of earshot. “Let’s get out of here as quickly as possible tomorrow.”

“I think that may be for the best.”
 

The first dream Roan had that night was about food.

He’d been thinking about the subject ever since he walked
away from dinner, stomach growling, and collapsed onto the mattress of the
first open bedroom in sight. His unconscious mind had him keep uncovering food
in his apartment, some of it in odd places: salmon with orange sauce under the
covers, buttered toast in a desk drawer, an leg of iced dough resting on top of
the sink. That
duc
had not sat well.

The second dream he remembered involved him being back at
the Euro resettlement camp as Dad was doing work on their Earth Refugee
Agency-approved home. Standing on top of a ladder, Dad was hammering a nine by
twelve onto a window on the eve of a typhoon’s landfall.

“Hand me another nail, Nick,” he said. Thunder crashed very
close by. Young Nick Roan handed a long, rusty spike to his father and Dad
pounded away at it—again and again. It was much too loud.

A sweaty hand against Roan’s naked skin jostled him awake,
and his first thought was that it was Kel—until he sat up and stared in
the face of a Bauxen. He yelled and backed up against his pillows.

The Bauxen said something in his language, something that
sounded like goda may. Its meaning was a mystery, but who it was directed to
soon became clear: in the darkness, Roan saw Duvurn standing and resting his
hands on his cane in front of his body. All joviality had seemingly vanished
from the alien.

“He’s fine,” Duvurn said, replying to his toady. “Mr. Roan,
I need to talk with you.”

There was firmness in his voice that implied it was not a
request. And besides, it was always wise to agree with your host when he barges
into your bedroom in the middle of the night. Roan looked for the time but his
com was hidden away in his pants. Darkness still enveloped the sky outside the
windows—what time did the sun rise on Bauxa?

Both Bauxens backed away and Roan thought they exuded
impatience, so he climbed out of bed. This took a little bit of effort, since
Bauxens like to sleep on cushiony, voluminous water mattresses, built to
accommodate any girth. When he finally jumped off the bed, he saw the Bauxens
recoil slightly at seeing a naked human. Oh well, Roan was not ashamed. His
clothes were piled on a table beside the bed, the same clothes he’d been
wearing constantly for thirty days: a white shirt, a jumper, his pilot slacks.
Every part of himself wanted to conduct a conversation with royalty while in
the buff, but he always felt vulnerable while naked, so he put on his clothes.

The Bauxens watched in silence. When he was done, Duvurn
gestured that they leave the room.

At the current hour, the palace was still. Even the fish
inside the illuminated columns of the lobby appeared asleep, nestled at the
bottom of their artificial world. They were creatures to envy: safe and warm in
a universe that was only as big as a cylinder. For them, the origin of life was
either a pet market or the breeding ground of some rich royal. Duvurn’s cane
brought Roan out of this contemplation, echoing against the floor with each
step from the Prince. So that was where his dream collected the sound of the
nail pounding.

“I need to talk with you about your visit,” Duvurn said.
Between every few words came the clank his cane. “Can you explain to me, Mr.
Roan, why everyone thinks I’m a fool?”

Duvurn’s henchman showed no sign of hostility, nor of a
sudden rush to draw a weapon. There was still a chance that this wasn’t going
to be an execution.

“What do you mean, your Excellency?”

“There you go again!”
 
The three passed through an archway and stepped onto an outdoor balcony.
Below was a garden illuminated even at this hour, with luminescent moths
circling the lights. The garden stretched to a wooded grove on the periphery of
the palace, beyond which were the giant trees. “Cleverer people have tried to
hide things from me. Cleverer Earthmen, even. And not one of them has ever kept
their secrets. Do you want to know what happened to them?”

Roan swallowed. It was only a few yards from the balcony to
the garden below. If he landed on one of the hedges, he might be able to escape
with only a broken leg.

“They ended up humiliated!”
 
Duvurn gave a short laugh, one that
would surely wake up half the palace. Then he struck Roan on the back, causing
Roan to grab onto the railing for support. It took him a few seconds to realize
it was a playful strike.

“Let me tell you a story. It’s about a very influential man
on a very far-flung planet, who gets an encrypted message one day that some
people from Earth are coming to visit. A Nyden among them says they have
discovered a planet rich in phosphate and are contracted to scout it out. And
it just so happens they are being chased by Kotarans—why, they have a
captive Kotaran on board, even! And they are willing to offer a handsome sum in
exchange for help—a discount with your Company, for starters. I bet you
didn’t know your Nyden friend promised that, did you?”

“No.”

“Of course not. Well, let me tell you this. If the call
hadn’t come on such short notice, maybe this Prince would’ve had more time to
think things through, to mull over the situation. But he didn’t, so he said to David,
a friend from years back—yes, you guys can come, lay low as they say in
English. The Prince has friends among the Kotarans and they can’t hurt me. So
please, you and your Earthmen friends be my guest. And then these Earth people
arrive, and you know what they do? They won’t tell him anything about this
supposed planet. And you know what that makes the Prince think of their story?”

“That it’s fake?”

“Correct! You on Earth have an expression: ‘bullshit.’
 
This is right, is it not?”
 
Roan nodded. “I knew it was right.
Frankly, I don’t like the word myself—cattle defecation? Disgusting. In
continuation, no bunch of ill-kempt freighter jockeys decides to travel to some
distant world of phosphate to be killed by a horde of Kotarans. If there were
something of interest on this planet, Earth would know about it, and send a
science expedition to scope it out, at the very least. In fact, I think they’d
send the military to claim this planet for your species. So I can only assume
that you are certainly not acting in any official capacity, and not for mining
purposes. Don’t try and lie to me.”

Roan didn’t see the point in lying. And didn’t have the
energy, either. “You’re right, Prince. We’re not acting in any official
capacity. And we’re not looking for minerals.”

“Of course.”
 
Duvurn leaned his cane against the balcony and then looked out at the
garden. “This place was built by my third ancestor, Prince Tufi. He was a man
of grandeur and vision, and some say too much opulence. Does it show? Look out
to that garden there.” He pointed to some sapphire plants. “Do you know what
they call this place? Or at least, what the equivalent phrase is in your
language?”

“No.”

“It’s the ‘Garden of Life.’
 
Do you know why I mention this?”

“No,” Roan said, though he had an idea of why he did.

“Because I believe your mission to this unknown planet is
related to life. Am I right, Nicholas Roan?”

Roan said nothing, but knew that silence was only
confirmation of Duvurn’s curiosity.

“I knew it.”
 
The
Prince let out some burp-like giggles. He leaned in closer. “Have you found the
Fifth Civilization? May the hills collapse if you have.” The Bauxen expression
was gaining popularity on Earth—it was roughly similar to saying an
“earth-shaking event.”

“Maybe,” Roan admitted, not knowing if denying this
information would cause him to have a spear jammed in his back. “If you want
the truth, it’s that we have no idea what’s out there. The information we have
is pretty foggy.”

“None? Not even a clue? Wasn’t the information you got from
David enough? Oh that’s right, it wasn’t from David, it was from your friend
Aaron Vertulfo.” Roan cringed. This shady character speaking the name of his
murdered friend was like a sacrilege, but Roan pushed back the anger coursing
through him. He had too many questions of his own.

“How the hell did you know about Aaron? Who told you?”

“I’ve talked with people on Earth. Oh, don’t act surprised.
Interstellar messages travel faster than any starship. You’re wanted for
questioning on Earth in connection with Vertulfo’s death, and that concerns me.
A royal should never harbor criminal elements. But I think your story is real,
you being on the run from Kotarans. I believe you’re an innocent party. The
only thing I’m unsure of is why you’re hiding information about this planet
from me.

“Before you arrived, I looked into this Vertulfo man.
Vertulfo was an astrophysicist, an expert in interstellar phenomena. This was
mainly comets and other debris, but also planets. He and the Nyden have been
here before, on Bauxa, rummaging through our medical universities and looking
through our DNA banks. They were quite interested in finding out biological
information about my species.”

This time it was Roan’s turn to smile. “I was wrong about
you, Prince. And I thought you were just some pampered royal looking down from
his silver tower at the unwashed masses.”

“The masses are quite washed, I can tell you, and they are
disgusting. But they are valuable sources of information. Nicholas, you should
tell me the exact nature of your mission—or quest, I should say. It would
be beneficial to you because your pursuers have already contacted me. They,
too, have friends on Bauxa.”

“The Kotarans? You talked with them?”
 
Roan now felt like jumping off the
balcony.

“Through intermediaries, of course. Don’t worry; I haven’t
given anything away. Your pursuers are anxious to buy you from me for a not
inconsiderable price. I could possibly buy my own country for what they
offered, but understand I’m a little hesitant.”

“Oh? Do you think we can offer you more money?”

“Nicholas, Nicholas,” Duvurn said, laughing, and giving Roan
a fleshy punch on the shoulder. “Do you think I’m all about money? Actually, it
is my main motivation, you see, because if you have found the Fifth Civilization
I would very much like to be the first Bauxen ambassador to it. Trade links and
all of that fine stuff—think of the possibilities! I’d be a hero for all
three billion Bauxens. Understand that my name doesn’t stretch as far beyond
that garden as it once did.”

Roan watched the moths fluttering over the garden. Creatures
unconcerned with galactic troubles. “And what’ll you give us when I tell you?
More men?”

“Of course! I will even come along, and naturally I will
provide a few armed personnel to help you. The Kotarans won’t board you
again—or at least, they won’t survive if they do.”
 
He smacked his cane against the railing,
knocking off a chunk of marble as if to illustrate his point.

“I suppose you’ll turn us over to the Kotarans otherwise.”

“No! I promise you I wouldn’t! But you won’t have my help in
leaving Bauxa, or getting ending the Kotaran pursuit. One call to my people,
and your ship’s repairs could be delayed a week. Good luck getting off this
planet then. Furthermore, if the Kotarans find this mysterious planet, I can
always try and get in on any trade deal with them. What will it be, Roan?”

Roan tossed this around in his head. “I don’t know if I can
trust you.”

“Since I already have voiced these suspicions, you have
nothing to lose.”

Whether it was bullies trying to get ration credits, or
officials threatening to report yet another contaminated section on the
Dunnock
, Roan had dealt with such
situations before. Someone always had an upper hand clenching blackmail. But
never before did Roan’s own life seem in danger, as well as the lives of all
his friends. And loved ones. So he recounted to the Prince what he’d learned
from Aaron, what the Kotarans were after, and what the holographic information
said. Roan was conscious the whole time of the pad in his jacket pocket, but
made no move for it out of fear Duvurn would steal it and have him killed right
then and there.

“And where is this information?” Duvurn asked, when Roan
finished.

“Safely with one of us here,” Roan said.

“With your captain, the female?”

“With someone.”

Duvurn curved his amphibian smile into a wide, grotesque
grin. “Perhaps she could tell me.”

Roan cleared his throat. “Your Excellency, I wouldn’t try
anything against her, if you know what’s best for you.”

Duvurn let out a loud, stagnant breath. A sign of
incredulity. “Why is that? Are you betrothed to this woman?”

Roan opened his mouth to speak, not sure what exactly he’d
say, but was cut off by an echoing, throaty laugh from Duvurn. Drool flew
everywhere. “Don’t worry, Nicholas! The female Earthman is a small and weak
creature. I don’t conduct myself with any women that aren’t Bauxen.”

“You seemed to act differently toward her earlier.”

“Flattery is an essential part of royalty. Besides, I am
already doubly betrothed.” He smacked his cane against the balcony railing
again. His flunky, who Roan forgot was there, walked back through the archway
as if to signal the conversation was over.

“Get some rest, Nicholas Roan. Or stay up all night, with
both eyes open. In the morning, we will discuss how to proceed and try to leave
Bauxa as soon as possible. I, for one, am excited to go! Breakfast will be when
you can smell the food.”
 
In a few
minutes, the Prince was out of sight, his cane still echoing against the floor
of the palace. Roan stayed on the balcony until he couldn’t hear it any longer.

Roan did indeed stay up all night, with both eyes open. He
heard the birds come alive, heard the morning roar of air traffic, finally
learned that the sun rose around oh seven hundred. Something Duvurn said
bothered him greatly. The Kotarans knew Duvurn was sheltering the
Colobus
crew. And they would not take no
for an answer.