Erik J Kreffel - 2 shorts - 1, Angielskie [EN](4)(2)
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ERIK J KREFFEL PRESENTS 2 SHORTS (+ 1)
c 2008-2009, EJK Publications
All Rights Reserved
PEACE, AT LONG LAST
“
Take me back to where Tooraag found me, when I was a young boy,h I asked Rogagh, my
adoptive brother, one evening. Awaytha the sun was setting in the distant, pale violet sky.
g
There is nothing but pain for you there, Jonathon. It’s a twelve-day journey...you
are an old man...enjoy your days like Tooraag before us
.”
My bones creaked as I stood up to throw a shawl around my shoulders; the air was much cooler now
than when I first arrived here, more than fifty years ago. gI need to know...why did it happen? Why did
I come here?h
g
Tooraag considered it a blessing, brother. You should as well. You have had a full
life among us...you are one of us more than you have ever been a human
.”
“
Maybe so...but I need answers, peace, Rogagh. Ifve always been that way, you know.h
Rogagh sighed, his ochre face downcast while I explained my reasons.
I reached out to him, brushing my fingers against his arm. gPlease, have I ever asked you for
anything?h
g
No, never, brother. You have always been obedient despite what Tooraag’s
superiors did to you.
” He laughed, then continued, “
I would have been less eager to
cooperate in your place.
”
“
Then help me...I canft do it on my own.h
Rogagh nodded, then clapped me on the shoulder. g
At dawn, we will leave. I will prepare
supplies for us, and make preparations for Juytha and the children in my absence. You
should rest now...it will not be an easy journey.
”
“
I know...the Hooudua administer that region these days.h
g
Yes. We will need to wear our uniforms.
”
I rubbed my hands together for warmth. gIfll find mine. And my papers.h
g
Rest easy, brother. We will find peace, together.
”
Smiling, I followed Rogagh inside our domicile and retired to my flat, laying my old bones on the bed
for the last time. Staring at the ceiling, I memorized the interior of the only home Ifve had in my long
years of exile on Wayth. Tomorrow, I would embark on my last journey.
We headed out after I said goodbye to Juytha and the children I had helped raise as an
uncle. I tried not to think of farewells, but the truth was I was ready to go home, the home that
laid out in the wastes of a vast desert, where five decades ago, so I am told, the
generational vessel from a distant star, Iutha, crashed to Wayth’s surface, leaving me as the
only survivor, all of twelve years old.
My heart cried out for answers, for peace. I knew nothing of the people I came from, save the
clutch of memories embedded in my mind, which surfaced only in my dreams, my nightmares.
Some days, it was all too much. Other days, I just tried to live my life as a Gyaath of Wayth,
despite myself and other Gyaath.
g
Remember when Tooraag caught me giving you Gyaath food and you vomited it up
on his collection of human artifacts?
”
“
Ha-ha-hehh, Ifd forgotten. I hated our food. Ifm so glad Tooraag found that recipe sequencer on
the Iuthan ship to modify our food to what I could keep down my throat.h I shook my head. gHope I
didnft ruin anything that could tell me who I really am.h
Rogagh grew silent in the skimmerfs open-air cockpit.
g
You are Gyaath, brother, don’t allow that to ever change. We have always loved you,
despite your humanness.
”
“
I know...but the years havenft been kind to me. I am not one of you, deep down. What sustains
you has slowly eroded my body. I canft breathe well at all, brother. And I grow colder by the day.h
Rogagh didnft respond.
“
Look here...we are in the midst of summer, yet I must wear more shawls just to keep from
shivering. Ifm dying, Rogagh. Youfre still as robust as Tooraag in his later years, even after the
accident. But me....h
g
But you are not alone, remember that. We were too busy living our lives to help
Tooraag when his time came. Not you, though
.”
I nodded, watching the buttes pass by, the clouds dissipating in the scarlet skies. A gentle, hot breeze
blew through what remained of the hair on my scalp, just like it did when Rogagh and I were in the civil
militia so long ago, like a lifetime past. He and I rode into the Nurwhua frontier often, sometimes
remaining on duty out in the dry wild for weeks, bonding over stories, rations and
Qop
drinks. I spoke
of my time in captivity as a youth, those years in purgatory, neither Iuthan nor Gyaath. I
showed him the scars on my limbs from the tests the scientists performed, as they had
never examined—let alone seen—an Iuthan until I had been discovered in the wreckage.
Despite knowing Rogagh for years at that point, he and I were never close until we grew older. Ifm
not sure why, but I think we had a strange rivalry for Tooraagfs affections since my release from the
quarantine facilities into his custody. Rogagh and I barely spoke to one another until the date for our
mandatory enlistment into the civil militia. That however, elicited a direct shift in our relationship, one that
has remained strong over the years. Now, it is inconceivable to me that Rogagh and I ever be less than
brothers.
Day passed into night, and I wrapped myself in ever thicker and warmer overcoats, the
desert evening deadlier to me than it had ever been in my youth. I dreamt of our days
together, causing mischief and general chaos for our superiors in the militia, despite our
rather serious duties of guarding the border against the Hooudua guerillas. Coming from
beyond the western Nurwhua Territory, the Hooudua had been nothing less than nomads
until shortly before my generational ship’s crash, which drove the Hooudua to try to escape
across the border into Gyaathan lands. Skirmishes were frequent until the Gyaath
government gave in to demands for a self-governed Hoouduan territory, which enveloped
the region where the Iuthan ship had crashed. All contact between the Hooudua and Gyaath
was now nearly non-existent, I knew all too well, but my final act on this faraway world
couldn’t be held off any longer. I had to go home.
I had to know who I really was.
The first crater shocked us, the second, saddened. The plateau where once, as young men,
we lived a great adventure was now a barren escarpment, devoid of even the lowest scrub
grass. A multicolored melange of rock, soil and mountain reduced to pits kilometers across,
a rotting, sickening sore of a landscape. After an absence of over forty years, our beloved
western desert was debased and defiled beyond even our darkest nightmares, the
Hooudua taking their gracious gift and squatting their dirty backsides over it, spoiling it.
Pausing near the bowl of a crater, we limped out of the skimmer and looked across the horizon
in disbelief, neither of us having the stomach nor the energy to curse. It was apparent the remainder
of my journey would be filled not with nostalgia, but pain. Would I have anything to go home to?
Had the Hooudua destroyed the last shreds of my Iuthan heritage, too, like they had beautiful
Nurwhua?
gLet us go further, brother. There is nothing for you here.h
We skimmed across the pits, avoiding the stinking, rotting matter deep inside them. The devastation
was thorough; no sign of the Hooudua\mud camps, fodder corpses or foot tracks\could be
discerned, even as we grew nearer to their lands. I shook my head, the tears streaming down my
cheeks.
gWe should be there soon, according to Tooraagfs maps. Check the scope for landmark
formations.h
I saw nothing of the sort but utter waste. No isobars registered on the scope indicating
any deep penetration of foreign metals or impactors. Despondency bubbled up through my
body, a hopelessness I had tried to suppress, but couldn’t anymore. I laid a hand on
Rogagh, signaling to him my creeping weariness. He didn’t give up, I credit him, but the
death taking over my body was merciless.
I could have died there in the skimmer.
I’m glad I didn’t. The ribs of what had to be a large vessel stuck out from the wasteland
ground, like some seaborne creature’s carcass picked clean. We had journeyed some
kilometers beyond what registered on Tooraag’s maps, some unexplored landmass that, in
all likelihood, no Gyaath had set foot upon in centuries, if ever. Our scanners were no good
here anyway; rotting waste covered the metallic scraps in a thick shroud, giving me pause to
even want to investigate. But, I was compelled forward by my spirit. My body was broken,
soon to be filling the ground. I had to know.
Rogagh stopped the skimmer in-between a concavity and leapt out, his curiosity obviously
piqued as well. He lended me a hand as my foot softly landed, and the two of us investigated, one
final adventure as brothers, his vigor giving me strength to continue.
“
What sort of wreckage is this?h I asked Rogagh. gIf itfs not on Tooraagfs
maps,
could it really be....h
Rogagh shook his head. He breathed deeply and led us forward.
“I have no idea. Father
said he saw the wreckage of the Iuthan craft himself. Maybe this is another section
that broke off entering the atmosphere. In that case, it’s remarkable that it’s still
relatively intact.”
gThe Hooudua sacked the craft after Tooraagfs team found me, that much I know. That would
explain the absence on our scope. But this...could they have missed it?h
We limped onward, Rogagh spying a large dish, half-broken, lying ajar in the soil. He pulled it from
the ground and wiped the caked dirt from its interior. A metal cord was still plugged into the dishfs
exterior.
gA communications transmission array,h
Rogagh noted.
“Tooraag said he read Iuthan
schematics of such devices, but never found one. This is a boon, brother.”
I shivered in the open air. Night was creeping across the sky, chasing Awaytha under the horizon.
gWhat good does it do? Therefs nothing left to receive a transmission with it.h
Rogagh smiled, the first time I had seen one from him since our departure.
“Per-haps not, but this
has a transceiver inside it still, and the skimmer should be able to interface with it and
perhaps discern what frequencies the Iuthans employed. This is more than Tooraag was
able to do.”
I agreed. After a childhood spent pestering my adoptive father about my people, and the
poor man having no answers to provide me, this was indeed a blessing. I crawled back into
the skimmer and seated myself with a shawl while Rogagh plugged the dish into the
skimmer’s instrument bay, not wanting to interfere with his rescue efforts by complaining
about the cold.
Rogagh spent the night manipulating the nearly incompatible devices. I rested, waking occasionally to
warm myself with a steaming mug of
Qop
and the few rations we had packed. It was well into the
next morning when he awoke me gently, lifting my torpid frame to view the fruits of his labor.
The dish’s transceiver, a box screwed into the back of the dish, was brimming with lit red
and blue diodes. Now plugged into the skimmer’s instrument bay, where the display panel
showed a text box full of numerals, the dish gave up its half-century of secrets for Rogagh
and myself to view.
Heartened, I forgot about the pain, the shortness of breath, the weakness plaguing me for the last few
years. Now, I was that child again, that restless young man seeking the answers no one could give me. I
felt the most complete I had ever been.
gYou were correct, brother, in that this old dish couldnft receive signals. But, the skimmer can,
and maybe more efficiently. We have Iuthan communication frequencies. I waited to wake you before
trying.h
Rogagh paused, looking into my eyes thoughtfully.
“This is what you came for. Are
you ready?”
“
How could you ask such a question? Ifve waited my whole life for this.h
Rogagh flipped a switch on the instrument bay, opening the skimmerfs transceiver array. A flood of
static washed over the tiny speakers, the language of the stars. Millions of photons, electrons and protons
filtered through the system, indiscernable, cascading from all directions and frequencies. Tapping the first
frequency into the skimmerfs transceiver, Rogagh cut the static down to a monotone hiss. It wasnft
much, but it was a single frequency, a beginning.
gNothing on that one. Perhaps no one is there today. Donft worry, there are plenty more.h
I patiently waited as Rogagh went down the frequency list, exhausting each onefs feasibility. Some
seemed suitable, even promising, but ultimately nothing but loud chirps, pops or drones came of them. I
reclined, the initial surge of adrenaline from Rogaghfs accomplishment quickly draining my body of
energy. I had begun to lose faith when a tinny voice, mechanical perhaps or filtered to an almost
machine-like quality broadcast over the speaker, sending my head towards the instrument bay, an
unabashed kid again.
gTrying to adjust the wavelength.h
Rogagh sat forward, his tongue slightly placed
between his lips in concentration, his fingers tweaking the transmitter minutely.
“This is the
best I can do with this one.”
I cocked my head, trying to discern the voice. The language wasnft Gyaathan, nor Hoouduan. It
could have been a half-dozen other languages of the varying peoples across Wayth, but I couldnft be
sure. My native Iuthan homeworld had hundreds of languages and dialects, from what Tooraag had
noted of the generational shipfs artifacts and its remains, none of which I had much knowledge, except
that of my native tongue, but even that was mostly forgotten, save my name. In all likelihood I may have
been from one of the multitude of tribes and peoples Tooraag said inhabited Iutha, but I could never
know which one. This may all have been futile, this old manfs folly.
g...To the peoples of Wayth, we bring you greetings. If your civilization is able to receive this
transmission, we offer you friendship and salutations.h
I looked to Rogagh, who returned my surprise. The mechanical voice, which until now spoke in some
language indecipherable to us both, now broadcast in Gyaathan. It repeated the greeting again, then
shifted into yet another language, this one identifiable as Hoouduan. Whoever this was, they knew our
languages, at least enough for a formal greeting. We huddled close and listened further, waiting for the
voice to repeat its Gyaathan message.
A scant moment later, a lengthier transmission in Gyaathan followed the preamble, bearing the words
I had yearned to hear my whole life:
“
We are the peoples of Earth, the third planet orbiting the G-type star Sol, which we have identified
as named Iutha from your transmissions. Like your world, Earth is composed of over two thousand
distinct societies and cultures, many of which have sent craft into the depths of our solar system. By
studying the transmissions of your world, we have gleaned basic knowledge of your planet, and have
concluded your civilizations as friendly, and inquisitive. Our cultures are equally inquisitive, and as such
we wish for a cultural exchange. As we speak, a hundred humans, as we call ourselves, are preparing for
a multi-generational voyage to your star system, in the hopes of reaching your world in one hundred and
twenty years, approximately ninety-nine years, seven months and twenty-three days, adjusted according
to your worldfs orbital year.h
I couldnft believe my ears...my people were sending more to land here. But when, where? I listened
for more details, my pulse quickening.
gWe thirst for knowledge. In the long history of Earth, never before has another star shown the
telltale signs of inhabited, and intelligent, life, until now. For years, your civilizationsf broadcasts have
been received here on Earth and entertained us greatly. It is through the diligent work of many biologists,
linguists, mathematicians, sociologists and psychologists that we have deciphered your three most
prevalent languages and beamed this message to you. For your information-gathering purposes, and to
facilitate friendly relations upon our travelersf arrival, we present the commanding crew of the craft
SS
Amity
, in their own words:
“
Hello and greetings, Wayth! My name is Charles Leonard Raymond, Captain United States Navy,
commander of the
SS Amity
. I am twenty-nine years old, and this is my fourth mission in
space. We volunteer our lives to venture to your world in this exciting journey of discovery
to contact our fellow beings of the galactic neighborhood. I am married to my wife, Zady
Anise Raymond, and expecting a son within months of leaving our home, planet Earth.
We will be sending further news to your world in the coming years documenting our
journey. Visual chronicles of our expedition will be sent ahead of us, and you will get to
familiarize yourself with us, acquainting you with our customs and cultures over the years.
I now turn over this broadcast to my second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander
Maynard.
“
Hello. Ifm Lieutenant Commander Roberta Lovelace Maynard, Her Majestyfs Royal Navy. I am
twenty-six years of age, currently single. I speak to you upon entering our craft for the first time, and am
pleased to be here on behalf of the people of Earth to meet the people of Wayth. I sincerely look
forward to setting foot on your beautiful planet, which I am informed is quite like my home planet of
Earth. Thank you for listening.h
One hundred and twenty years; do my people live that long on...Earth, is that what they
said it was named? I felt insignificant, minute, weak in comparison to these strong humans,
my distant cousins who prepared to brave space yet again to call Wayth home. I had to find
some way of contacting them, to tell them I was alive, that I had survived. But how? I had to
try, had to—
Another voice stirred my mind, distracting my thoughts. A name which I hadnft heard, save for
mine\
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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ERIK J KREFFEL PRESENTS 2 SHORTS (+ 1)
c 2008-2009, EJK Publications
All Rights Reserved
PEACE, AT LONG LAST
“
Take me back to where Tooraag found me, when I was a young boy,h I asked Rogagh, my
adoptive brother, one evening. Awaytha the sun was setting in the distant, pale violet sky.
g
There is nothing but pain for you there, Jonathon. It’s a twelve-day journey...you
are an old man...enjoy your days like Tooraag before us
.”
My bones creaked as I stood up to throw a shawl around my shoulders; the air was much cooler now
than when I first arrived here, more than fifty years ago. gI need to know...why did it happen? Why did
I come here?h
g
Tooraag considered it a blessing, brother. You should as well. You have had a full
life among us...you are one of us more than you have ever been a human
.”
“
Maybe so...but I need answers, peace, Rogagh. Ifve always been that way, you know.h
Rogagh sighed, his ochre face downcast while I explained my reasons.
I reached out to him, brushing my fingers against his arm. gPlease, have I ever asked you for
anything?h
g
No, never, brother. You have always been obedient despite what Tooraag’s
superiors did to you.
” He laughed, then continued, “
I would have been less eager to
cooperate in your place.
”
“
Then help me...I canft do it on my own.h
Rogagh nodded, then clapped me on the shoulder. g
At dawn, we will leave. I will prepare
supplies for us, and make preparations for Juytha and the children in my absence. You
should rest now...it will not be an easy journey.
”
“
I know...the Hooudua administer that region these days.h
g
Yes. We will need to wear our uniforms.
”
I rubbed my hands together for warmth. gIfll find mine. And my papers.h
g
Rest easy, brother. We will find peace, together.
”
Smiling, I followed Rogagh inside our domicile and retired to my flat, laying my old bones on the bed
for the last time. Staring at the ceiling, I memorized the interior of the only home Ifve had in my long
years of exile on Wayth. Tomorrow, I would embark on my last journey.
We headed out after I said goodbye to Juytha and the children I had helped raise as an
uncle. I tried not to think of farewells, but the truth was I was ready to go home, the home that
laid out in the wastes of a vast desert, where five decades ago, so I am told, the
generational vessel from a distant star, Iutha, crashed to Wayth’s surface, leaving me as the
only survivor, all of twelve years old.
My heart cried out for answers, for peace. I knew nothing of the people I came from, save the
clutch of memories embedded in my mind, which surfaced only in my dreams, my nightmares.
Some days, it was all too much. Other days, I just tried to live my life as a Gyaath of Wayth,
despite myself and other Gyaath.
g
Remember when Tooraag caught me giving you Gyaath food and you vomited it up
on his collection of human artifacts?
”
“
Ha-ha-hehh, Ifd forgotten. I hated our food. Ifm so glad Tooraag found that recipe sequencer on
the Iuthan ship to modify our food to what I could keep down my throat.h I shook my head. gHope I
didnft ruin anything that could tell me who I really am.h
Rogagh grew silent in the skimmerfs open-air cockpit.
g
You are Gyaath, brother, don’t allow that to ever change. We have always loved you,
despite your humanness.
”
“
I know...but the years havenft been kind to me. I am not one of you, deep down. What sustains
you has slowly eroded my body. I canft breathe well at all, brother. And I grow colder by the day.h
Rogagh didnft respond.
“
Look here...we are in the midst of summer, yet I must wear more shawls just to keep from
shivering. Ifm dying, Rogagh. Youfre still as robust as Tooraag in his later years, even after the
accident. But me....h
g
But you are not alone, remember that. We were too busy living our lives to help
Tooraag when his time came. Not you, though
.”
I nodded, watching the buttes pass by, the clouds dissipating in the scarlet skies. A gentle, hot breeze
blew through what remained of the hair on my scalp, just like it did when Rogagh and I were in the civil
militia so long ago, like a lifetime past. He and I rode into the Nurwhua frontier often, sometimes
remaining on duty out in the dry wild for weeks, bonding over stories, rations and
Qop
drinks. I spoke
of my time in captivity as a youth, those years in purgatory, neither Iuthan nor Gyaath. I
showed him the scars on my limbs from the tests the scientists performed, as they had
never examined—let alone seen—an Iuthan until I had been discovered in the wreckage.
Despite knowing Rogagh for years at that point, he and I were never close until we grew older. Ifm
not sure why, but I think we had a strange rivalry for Tooraagfs affections since my release from the
quarantine facilities into his custody. Rogagh and I barely spoke to one another until the date for our
mandatory enlistment into the civil militia. That however, elicited a direct shift in our relationship, one that
has remained strong over the years. Now, it is inconceivable to me that Rogagh and I ever be less than
brothers.
Day passed into night, and I wrapped myself in ever thicker and warmer overcoats, the
desert evening deadlier to me than it had ever been in my youth. I dreamt of our days
together, causing mischief and general chaos for our superiors in the militia, despite our
rather serious duties of guarding the border against the Hooudua guerillas. Coming from
beyond the western Nurwhua Territory, the Hooudua had been nothing less than nomads
until shortly before my generational ship’s crash, which drove the Hooudua to try to escape
across the border into Gyaathan lands. Skirmishes were frequent until the Gyaath
government gave in to demands for a self-governed Hoouduan territory, which enveloped
the region where the Iuthan ship had crashed. All contact between the Hooudua and Gyaath
was now nearly non-existent, I knew all too well, but my final act on this faraway world
couldn’t be held off any longer. I had to go home.
I had to know who I really was.
The first crater shocked us, the second, saddened. The plateau where once, as young men,
we lived a great adventure was now a barren escarpment, devoid of even the lowest scrub
grass. A multicolored melange of rock, soil and mountain reduced to pits kilometers across,
a rotting, sickening sore of a landscape. After an absence of over forty years, our beloved
western desert was debased and defiled beyond even our darkest nightmares, the
Hooudua taking their gracious gift and squatting their dirty backsides over it, spoiling it.
Pausing near the bowl of a crater, we limped out of the skimmer and looked across the horizon
in disbelief, neither of us having the stomach nor the energy to curse. It was apparent the remainder
of my journey would be filled not with nostalgia, but pain. Would I have anything to go home to?
Had the Hooudua destroyed the last shreds of my Iuthan heritage, too, like they had beautiful
Nurwhua?
gLet us go further, brother. There is nothing for you here.h
We skimmed across the pits, avoiding the stinking, rotting matter deep inside them. The devastation
was thorough; no sign of the Hooudua\mud camps, fodder corpses or foot tracks\could be
discerned, even as we grew nearer to their lands. I shook my head, the tears streaming down my
cheeks.
gWe should be there soon, according to Tooraagfs maps. Check the scope for landmark
formations.h
I saw nothing of the sort but utter waste. No isobars registered on the scope indicating
any deep penetration of foreign metals or impactors. Despondency bubbled up through my
body, a hopelessness I had tried to suppress, but couldn’t anymore. I laid a hand on
Rogagh, signaling to him my creeping weariness. He didn’t give up, I credit him, but the
death taking over my body was merciless.
I could have died there in the skimmer.
I’m glad I didn’t. The ribs of what had to be a large vessel stuck out from the wasteland
ground, like some seaborne creature’s carcass picked clean. We had journeyed some
kilometers beyond what registered on Tooraag’s maps, some unexplored landmass that, in
all likelihood, no Gyaath had set foot upon in centuries, if ever. Our scanners were no good
here anyway; rotting waste covered the metallic scraps in a thick shroud, giving me pause to
even want to investigate. But, I was compelled forward by my spirit. My body was broken,
soon to be filling the ground. I had to know.
Rogagh stopped the skimmer in-between a concavity and leapt out, his curiosity obviously
piqued as well. He lended me a hand as my foot softly landed, and the two of us investigated, one
final adventure as brothers, his vigor giving me strength to continue.
“
What sort of wreckage is this?h I asked Rogagh. gIf itfs not on Tooraagfs
maps,
could it really be....h
Rogagh shook his head. He breathed deeply and led us forward.
“I have no idea. Father
said he saw the wreckage of the Iuthan craft himself. Maybe this is another section
that broke off entering the atmosphere. In that case, it’s remarkable that it’s still
relatively intact.”
gThe Hooudua sacked the craft after Tooraagfs team found me, that much I know. That would
explain the absence on our scope. But this...could they have missed it?h
We limped onward, Rogagh spying a large dish, half-broken, lying ajar in the soil. He pulled it from
the ground and wiped the caked dirt from its interior. A metal cord was still plugged into the dishfs
exterior.
gA communications transmission array,h
Rogagh noted.
“Tooraag said he read Iuthan
schematics of such devices, but never found one. This is a boon, brother.”
I shivered in the open air. Night was creeping across the sky, chasing Awaytha under the horizon.
gWhat good does it do? Therefs nothing left to receive a transmission with it.h
Rogagh smiled, the first time I had seen one from him since our departure.
“Per-haps not, but this
has a transceiver inside it still, and the skimmer should be able to interface with it and
perhaps discern what frequencies the Iuthans employed. This is more than Tooraag was
able to do.”
I agreed. After a childhood spent pestering my adoptive father about my people, and the
poor man having no answers to provide me, this was indeed a blessing. I crawled back into
the skimmer and seated myself with a shawl while Rogagh plugged the dish into the
skimmer’s instrument bay, not wanting to interfere with his rescue efforts by complaining
about the cold.
Rogagh spent the night manipulating the nearly incompatible devices. I rested, waking occasionally to
warm myself with a steaming mug of
Qop
and the few rations we had packed. It was well into the
next morning when he awoke me gently, lifting my torpid frame to view the fruits of his labor.
The dish’s transceiver, a box screwed into the back of the dish, was brimming with lit red
and blue diodes. Now plugged into the skimmer’s instrument bay, where the display panel
showed a text box full of numerals, the dish gave up its half-century of secrets for Rogagh
and myself to view.
Heartened, I forgot about the pain, the shortness of breath, the weakness plaguing me for the last few
years. Now, I was that child again, that restless young man seeking the answers no one could give me. I
felt the most complete I had ever been.
gYou were correct, brother, in that this old dish couldnft receive signals. But, the skimmer can,
and maybe more efficiently. We have Iuthan communication frequencies. I waited to wake you before
trying.h
Rogagh paused, looking into my eyes thoughtfully.
“This is what you came for. Are
you ready?”
“
How could you ask such a question? Ifve waited my whole life for this.h
Rogagh flipped a switch on the instrument bay, opening the skimmerfs transceiver array. A flood of
static washed over the tiny speakers, the language of the stars. Millions of photons, electrons and protons
filtered through the system, indiscernable, cascading from all directions and frequencies. Tapping the first
frequency into the skimmerfs transceiver, Rogagh cut the static down to a monotone hiss. It wasnft
much, but it was a single frequency, a beginning.
gNothing on that one. Perhaps no one is there today. Donft worry, there are plenty more.h
I patiently waited as Rogagh went down the frequency list, exhausting each onefs feasibility. Some
seemed suitable, even promising, but ultimately nothing but loud chirps, pops or drones came of them. I
reclined, the initial surge of adrenaline from Rogaghfs accomplishment quickly draining my body of
energy. I had begun to lose faith when a tinny voice, mechanical perhaps or filtered to an almost
machine-like quality broadcast over the speaker, sending my head towards the instrument bay, an
unabashed kid again.
gTrying to adjust the wavelength.h
Rogagh sat forward, his tongue slightly placed
between his lips in concentration, his fingers tweaking the transmitter minutely.
“This is the
best I can do with this one.”
I cocked my head, trying to discern the voice. The language wasnft Gyaathan, nor Hoouduan. It
could have been a half-dozen other languages of the varying peoples across Wayth, but I couldnft be
sure. My native Iuthan homeworld had hundreds of languages and dialects, from what Tooraag had
noted of the generational shipfs artifacts and its remains, none of which I had much knowledge, except
that of my native tongue, but even that was mostly forgotten, save my name. In all likelihood I may have
been from one of the multitude of tribes and peoples Tooraag said inhabited Iutha, but I could never
know which one. This may all have been futile, this old manfs folly.
g...To the peoples of Wayth, we bring you greetings. If your civilization is able to receive this
transmission, we offer you friendship and salutations.h
I looked to Rogagh, who returned my surprise. The mechanical voice, which until now spoke in some
language indecipherable to us both, now broadcast in Gyaathan. It repeated the greeting again, then
shifted into yet another language, this one identifiable as Hoouduan. Whoever this was, they knew our
languages, at least enough for a formal greeting. We huddled close and listened further, waiting for the
voice to repeat its Gyaathan message.
A scant moment later, a lengthier transmission in Gyaathan followed the preamble, bearing the words
I had yearned to hear my whole life:
“
We are the peoples of Earth, the third planet orbiting the G-type star Sol, which we have identified
as named Iutha from your transmissions. Like your world, Earth is composed of over two thousand
distinct societies and cultures, many of which have sent craft into the depths of our solar system. By
studying the transmissions of your world, we have gleaned basic knowledge of your planet, and have
concluded your civilizations as friendly, and inquisitive. Our cultures are equally inquisitive, and as such
we wish for a cultural exchange. As we speak, a hundred humans, as we call ourselves, are preparing for
a multi-generational voyage to your star system, in the hopes of reaching your world in one hundred and
twenty years, approximately ninety-nine years, seven months and twenty-three days, adjusted according
to your worldfs orbital year.h
I couldnft believe my ears...my people were sending more to land here. But when, where? I listened
for more details, my pulse quickening.
gWe thirst for knowledge. In the long history of Earth, never before has another star shown the
telltale signs of inhabited, and intelligent, life, until now. For years, your civilizationsf broadcasts have
been received here on Earth and entertained us greatly. It is through the diligent work of many biologists,
linguists, mathematicians, sociologists and psychologists that we have deciphered your three most
prevalent languages and beamed this message to you. For your information-gathering purposes, and to
facilitate friendly relations upon our travelersf arrival, we present the commanding crew of the craft
SS
Amity
, in their own words:
“
Hello and greetings, Wayth! My name is Charles Leonard Raymond, Captain United States Navy,
commander of the
SS Amity
. I am twenty-nine years old, and this is my fourth mission in
space. We volunteer our lives to venture to your world in this exciting journey of discovery
to contact our fellow beings of the galactic neighborhood. I am married to my wife, Zady
Anise Raymond, and expecting a son within months of leaving our home, planet Earth.
We will be sending further news to your world in the coming years documenting our
journey. Visual chronicles of our expedition will be sent ahead of us, and you will get to
familiarize yourself with us, acquainting you with our customs and cultures over the years.
I now turn over this broadcast to my second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander
Maynard.
“
Hello. Ifm Lieutenant Commander Roberta Lovelace Maynard, Her Majestyfs Royal Navy. I am
twenty-six years of age, currently single. I speak to you upon entering our craft for the first time, and am
pleased to be here on behalf of the people of Earth to meet the people of Wayth. I sincerely look
forward to setting foot on your beautiful planet, which I am informed is quite like my home planet of
Earth. Thank you for listening.h
One hundred and twenty years; do my people live that long on...Earth, is that what they
said it was named? I felt insignificant, minute, weak in comparison to these strong humans,
my distant cousins who prepared to brave space yet again to call Wayth home. I had to find
some way of contacting them, to tell them I was alive, that I had survived. But how? I had to
try, had to—
Another voice stirred my mind, distracting my thoughts. A name which I hadnft heard, save for
mine\
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