Trade World Saga 1: Manual Interpretation (3 page)

Too bad I can't take this native back with me, Rett considered. He'd probably die and spoil and I would have to stop and repressurize after a jettison…not worth the trouble.

Now I should continue with my examination. This container of synthetic material is used to carry water. The sharpened implement found near the native's body fits into a simulated animal skin carrier attached to the waist strap. The sharp implement has a non-corrosive, ceramic handle, amazingly hard, sharp edge. The handle seems rather awkward, Rett thought, it seems to be made of some type of ceramic material…at least they have some rudimentary knowledge of ceramics. I shall not return without some trophies to present to my associates, Rett mused while examining Andrew's knife.

Well, I might as well get rid of this interloper, Rett decided.

"What is this?" Rett spoke to himself unwittingly in his language as he pondered the device on the native's thin arm. It was uncharacteristic of a Tros to make verbal utterances when surprised. It appeared to be a device though it seemed to be almost molded to the native's arm and it was the same color as the skin. The
device
appeared synthetic; the width of the arm and almost three times that long with a dark, rectangular discoloration on top, covering the entire face. The device was about as thick as one of the native's manipulative digits. As Rett picked up and turned Andrew's arm, he inadvertently touched the discoloration part and a small “colored,” illuminated square which activated the world financial section.

In one of the odd-colored rectangles of the device, queer symbols began to flash. The symbols changed constantly until Rett hastily lowered the arm.

This must be similar to the new electric timers I've heard about. This device looks large compared to what I've heard. The casing looks well worn with many small, fine scratches on its slick surface but the little pictures light up well. Must be some light source in the back that shines through glass…clever.

In further examination of the wrist unit, Rett touched one of the discolored rectangles at the top of the unit...

"Pulse rate sixty - Respiration twelve," said the device on Andrew's wrist in a crisp, distinct voice.

Rett jerked his finger back but forgetting the light gravity on Earth, jumped backward a meter from Andrew's prostrate form.

This was Rett's first experience with a solid-state, ionization effect speaker. Even though the device's speech was unintelligible in content to Rett, he knew that the device had spoken. Rett saw that the native had not moved its mouth when he heard the voice in a language foreign to him. Not having any experience with speaking memory banks, Rett erroneously assumed that this device was a radio. The alien assumed it was a receiver, similar but smaller than any device, he had known.

Maybe this race isn't so backward technologically as I originally thought, Rett surmised. This race can boast this compact receiver! Rett was now confident that he had correctly puzzled out the device's function. He asked himself, what button should I touch next? These natives are clever to make these switches so pressure sensitive. These other discolored dots probably signify other preset frequencies.

Rett took the native's knife and touched the dot just to the side of the spot he had touched before. The device did nothing. He touched another with the knife…nothing happened. He used his ‘strenking’ finger and the device responded.

"Temperature-thirty three degrees Celsius.

Winds are fifteen kilometers per hour from the northwest...

Barometric pressure-seventy six point five centimeters of mercury and steady," said the device in English. “Login to services.”

Rett felt satisfied that this was simply a radio receiver. Being so confident, he pressed the larger, bright red spot on the
receiver
.

"LOGIN," said the device.

Silence from Rett.

"State logon authorization and the information required," said the device.

Silence from Rett, who was amused by this...
radio
... listening to the device, Rett thought how odd this method of transmission sounded. It sounded like a personal conversation.

"Are you drunk?" asked the device after another long silence.

"Repeat the following digital sequence - (pause) seven-four-three-two-ten-six-six.

Silence from Rett who was not aware his sobriety was even being tested.

"Shutdown - alternate sequence in one hour," said the device.

Though Rett tried, he could now only get a visible readout of the queer symbols (time probably). Nothing Rett did evoked any additional response from the device...probably about out of power since it was too small to have a fusion power source. Even my new small one wouldn’t fit inside this device…all that lighting and sound had probably used up its power source…clever but extremely limited usefulness.

Obviously, this device is more than a simple receiver and merits my attention even though it must have run out of power now. It could even be almost as advanced as the mobile stressed space-field unit that I constructed. How silly that thought was…clever in new ways but weak in function like the natives and the gravity. Since I have no desire to stay on this planet with its light gravity and thin atmosphere, I must not dispose of this native now. I'll learn how to operate its device first; this native is intelligent enough to know how it operates…probably… Rett thought.

I suppose I shall need to teach the native the basic language so I may question him, Rett thought. I hope the strain of learning
Trade
does not drive it insane like other races do when they are placed in a restrain field and force-learned
Trade
. It could probably learn to understand Tros instead of
Trade
since Tros was a more developed language even if it couldn't speak it well. Rett proceeded to adjust the field that kept Andrew unconscious and then began to feed several of the long memory cylinders through the
learning machine
attached to Andrew's head.

Rett thought, this is like the pioneers of my planet, who went out by themselves and contacted other races. Rett did not consider the captured technological 'discoveries' that had enabled his race to make a preemptive leap into space millennia ago. Nor did Rett consider the advance granted by the development of recorded speed-learning/teaching equipment that the Tros had used for the past five generations after learning that usage from another of those inferior races.

Rett futilely attempted to repair his stressed space-field control unit between cylinder changes on the
learning machine
. Rett finally decided he did not have the correct equipment to do the fine repair on the control device that had been damaged. Rett put his belt unit off to the side with a snort. He then proceeded to do what the Tros used for sleep, standing with eyes closed and ear twitching.

Shortly after the
learning machine
switched off, Rett adjusted the restrain field so Andrew would regain consciousness.

As the room swam into view, Andrew blinked his vision into focus and became aware of the cool metal under him. The lighting was orange tinted and oddly subdued…used to different sunlight he guessed. Andrew turned his head to look around but from the shoulders down, his body felt like a lump of wood. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement and suddenly a face came into view.

The face belonged to the man; the being that Andrew had helped earlier. That shock I received must have damaged me more than temporarily and this being is trying to help me, Andrew thought.

"How bad am I hurt?" Andrew wheezed, barely able to force any sound out of his throat. It was hard to control his lungs enough to talk.

When there wasn't any response Andrew tried again. "Hey, where am I?"

Rett spoke, "What is the unit's purpose that you wear on your arm?"

Andrew was shocked because though he understood what the being had said, he had not spoken an Earth language. Andrew knew several languages, but this was similar to none he had ever heard.

"If you try, you can now reply in my language," Rett stated.

"I'm paralyzed, do you know what is wrong?" Andrew gasped hardly able to breathe and was startled to find that he answered in the same language.

The alien, for it was obvious to Andrew that this being was alien to Earth and not just a deformed human; left his view and suddenly he had control of his body.

"
Hey!
I can move. What did you do?" Andrew asked while attempting to sit up.

"I released the restrain field. What is the purpose of the unit that you wear on your arm?"

"That’s just a
Mem-dex
. Where am I? Why'd you bring me here?" Andrew asked in English as he sat on the edge of a long metal bench and scanned the wall of instruments on one side of the otherwise small, bare room.

Andrew was too stunned to attempt to leave and his curiosity
was
piqued.

"Speak in
Trade
. What is the purpose of the
Mem-dex
and how does it function?" Rett asked with emphasis. "How is it powered? I did not see a power source."

"It just uses the differential between body heat and room temperature and serves as a calculator and artificial memory index file when not hooked to
wireless
services." Andrew visualized an odd electric-mechanical calculator as he thought of the word calculator and services in the alien language but wireless didn’t translate well. Thinking about wireless showed that the natives did understand radio frequency at different frequencies but the ‘side-thoughts’ of equipment designs dated back to the 30’s or ‘40s…1930s and 1940s…certainly not 2070.

"How does it function?" Rett asked again.

Andrew paused to consider his surroundings and this line of questioning and decided it was wiser to answer.

"It tells the time, receives weather and emergency broadcasts, reminds me of important dates and appointments, and helps me in laboratory work with its index of research data and formulas in several branches of science and engineering. It links me through the Net at the University, pays my expense like meals or supplies I need for school. Sometimes I even talk with it but most of the time, it's pretty predictable," Andrew said.

"Then it is a receiver that connects you to a library, computation center. You contact the center through this device and it receives their replies," Rett stated feeling more confident. "It is very compact, where is the speaker? So you are still in training?” The statement seemed derogatory.

Andrew put his chin in his hand while he pondered this revelation. If this guy is an alien, then he used some pretty advanced technology to get here. How advanced do we want to appear to be to this dude?

Andrew considered Earth’s' many tries at planetary exploration in the Solar system and thought how poorly they compared to interstellar travel.

This guy also has an interesting teaching method. Thinking of food and water after that teaching machine only produced visions of nauseating foods and drinks...funny, how thinking of food only makes me thirsty and then nauseated by visions of atrocious food dishes and aliens eating. It's pretty fast, much faster than our training machines; maybe that's why I have a headache.

"How does it make sound?" Rett insisted.

Andrew was shaken out of his reverie and realized he'd been daydreaming even in this bizarre setting.

Though Andrew couldn't detect anger in this language yet, he could understand volume and realized this being was disturbed. Andrew replied on impulse. "It uses a ‘Rimloff f-effect solid-state ionization’ speaker. None of the technical jargon brought up phrases or pictures in the native’s language except ionization…curious. By the way, my name's
Andrew.
" The "
Andrew
" sounded odd while speaking this strange language. Maybe this
Me Tarzan
,
You Jane
routine will distract him from the fact that molecular electronics may be something these fellows don't have.

"What is your name?" Andrew asked the alien.

Rett was horrified. Certainly this... ...this beast wasn't asking him his name. How disgusting to ask another your name when you meet, and there was no question other than that is what this being meant. Rett was revolted even though he knew intellectually that customs varied even in his own culture.

"Solid-state means all the parts are encased and don't move around," Andrew improvised. "What's your name?" Andrew queried again.

Only Rett's self-control and superiority over this native kept him from rending the native limb-from-limb at this point.

Andrew noticed that the alien had stiffened but wondered at the lack of response to his question. Maybe he didn't have a name but had a number. No, name was very clear in its meaning in this language now that I think about it. Maybe I ought to see about getting away from here.