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Borne On Wings of Steel Page 3


  The AI starship wrestled with its core programming as it left the destruction behind. The ship's turmoil grew as the young children cried out to it for direction and for comfort.

  And for love.

  Jaric remembered it all too well. And why they still searched for other human survivors, although it seemed hopeless.

  “Which way to the Search-terminals?” Jysar's tone reflected his own emotional tension as he and the others watched the distraught humans.

  “I wouldn't get your hopes up too much,” Rok said with a nod. “Remember Jarbornir, we were certain we had found a valid lead about other hoo-mans.” Rok's thick Kraaqi accent slurred the last word.

  Jaric sighed with the memory of six months ago.

  “Yes,” Jysar agreed. “The evidence seemed rock solid—a small remnant from a race destroyed by war-like aliens who took refuge there only a short time ago."

  “But they were not humans, and the race which destroyed them had not been the T'kaan.” Kyle shook his head sadly.

  “I think the one that really got to me was last month, when we landed on Krasas,” Jaric said as he turned to face the others again.

  “We should have suspected something the moment he asked for money in return for his knowledge,” Rok growled. “I knew we could not trust that slimy alien the moment I first laid eyes on him."

  Jaric looked up at the moist skin of the Zuuk. “Present company excepted."

  Kyle's face became puzzled. “I thought the saying went, ‘Present company accepted.’”

  “Now I'm confused, hoo-mans say same thing twice.” Rok looked from Jaric to Kyle.

  Kyle began to chuckle. “Well, almost. At least our meaning is meant to be the same, but we did say different words—the last word."

  “We've run into a lot of dead-ends,” Jaric said sadly.

  Kyle bit his lower lip. “Well, we've had a couple of really hopeful leads turn out to be nothing the last few months. And the one that hurt was the lie we spent money on, hoping it was true."

  “We must be more prudent in our use of questions, as well as the information about humans we share in our search.” Jysar looked at the two young men. “But most of all, we must weigh carefully any results we find—especially when it's exactly what we want."

  “Yeah, if it's too good to be true—it probably is,” Kyle mused.

  “Well, here on RahajMr we'll query a super-massive knowledgebase. Yes, we will have to pay to gain access to their vast knowledge resources, but at least our questions will be answered honestly as we honestly pay for them,” Minstrel-Zuuk said with confidence.

  Jaric sighed. “Even if it's not the answer we want to hear."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  “PLEASE SELECT AN appropriate queue. Please be patient, average waiting time is currently seventy-seven krinos,” an emotionless voice enunciated from the nearest speaker.

  Minstrel-Zuuk and the others waited behind about twenty other customers—each appearing to be of a different alien race—in this particular queue. Behind Minstrel-Zuuk stood Jysar and Rok, with Kyle and Jaric bringing up the rear.

  “And that means?” Kyle asked.

  “About ten minutes,” Minstrel-Zuuk translated.

  “Not bad.” Jaric looked around at the dozens of lines full of aliens waiting their turn, each queue containing perhaps a hundred aliens waiting just like them.

  “There are over seventy thousand of these controlled search rooms in which to gain access to their network in this city alone. Imagine how many there are for all twenty-four cities.” The seven eye-stalks looked first one direction and then another simultaneously.

  Jysar's eyes widened with amazement at the technology surrounding them.

  “As I mentioned, this is the largest single store of knowledge known. Even to Minstrels, and we get around.” The seven eye-stalks suddenly turned in seven different directions. Minstrel-Zuuk smiled with satisfaction. “Wow, I just had to try that once. A real panoramic view, so to speak."

  “Guess a Zuuk can really keep an eye on things, eh.” Jaric laughed.

  “You bet.” Minstrel-Zuuk chuckled.

  “Why don't aliens just log on from their ships, or from their own planets? They have multi-system networks in this Quadrant connecting planets, don't they?” Jysar asked with disbelief.

  “The Mrad are shrewd businessmen. Their massive computer does indeed connect to the local inter-system network. But the data flow is only one-way, they search out data and bring it in, but none go out from it."

  “Why do the other races allow that?” Jysar's voice filled with exasperation. “Why don't others protect their data from the Mrad?"

  “They tried at first. But the Mrad have ingenious ways to sneak into computer systems and capture data, even from outside the known Quadrants.” Minstrel-Zuuk stretched its eye-stalks as far out as it could, surveying the myriad of aliens all around for a moment. “In fact, their system even has some basic information about the races of the Three Kingdoms, although neither the Hrono, the Kraaqi nor the Mewiis have any reciprocal knowledge."

  Jysar's eyes narrowed. “The nerve of them, taking data like that."

  “The Mrad make a lucrative living on data. And it is true, in the beginning a lot of races were angry. But soon they all acquiesced after using the system. They discovered that the benefits of using the data for a modest fee outweighed the problem of actually having to travel to the floating cities of this world. Actually, the Mrad make it worthwhile, running a nice tourism trade on the side too. Some of the best hotels, entertainment, food and drink are here.” Minstrel-Zuuk yawned. “And because their data acquisition techniques are so far-reaching, if any references to human survivors exist in any of the nearby Quadrants or from a passing starship's logs that they've lifted, this massive system will contain it."

  “Cool,” Kyle said.

  “Not very proper, taking data like that,” Jysar said stoically.

  “Who cares,” Jaric added. He turned as an alien bumped into him.

  Jaric found three black eyes staring back from a face covered with short, curly fur. Two huge nostrils on its furry forehead suddenly flared open. The alien's eyes widened as a look of disgust grew over its hairy visage. It took a half-step backward only to bump into a large, bird-like alien behind it.

  The bird alien with iridescent green feathers stared in shock, its red eyes glaring above a long beak of blue, green and yellow stripes. The huge beak was twice the size of the rest of the alien's head, giving it a very odd profile. The multi-colored beak opened wide and a large black tongue became visible as it spoke.

  “What's that awful stench?” The bird-like alien groaned.

  The hairy alien whispered to the bird-alien as it pointed at both Jaric and Kyle.

  Two more aliens behind the bird-like alien joined them as they too stared with disapproval.

  All four aliens took a half-step backward.

  “Must've forgotten to put on my antiperspirant again,” Jaric said with a twinkle in his eyes to Kyle.

  “Huh?” Kyle asked.

  Jaric jerked his thumb at the aliens still trying to distance themselves and yet keep their place in queue.

  Rok began to chuckle.

  “You find this funny, eh, buddy?” Jaric said.

  Rok shrugged nonchalantly. “I've gotten used to your peculiar odor.” Rok grinned widely. “But it is something that must be acquired with time."

  Kyle jabbed his elbow hard into Rok's side, causing the Kraaqi warrior to grunt with pain. Kyle smiled. “Oh, I'm sorry. Must've been some kind of reflex action on my part. You know how we smelly humans are—always causing problems."

  Rok chuckled louder as he rubbed his side tenderly. “Remember about Kraaqi pay-backs, hoo-mans. My return humor will be most delightful when the time is ripe.” Rok's eyes twinkled mischievously.

  The queue continued moving slowly forward until...

  “Next."

 
; Jaric's face clouded with emotion. He leaned forward and whispered into Kyle's ear. “I almost don't want to do this—try another search. Probably just another disappointment."

  Kyle nodded without looking at him, a solemn expression on his face. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said in a low voice so nobody else could hear, “we ought to be used to disappointment by now. Let's just try...” He paused. “...one more time, my friend. We'll never know unless we try."

  “Neeee-xt."

  Minstrel-Zuuk stepped up to the short, plump alien that sat behind the huge computer console facing the queue.

  The creature's face was small, dominated by a cylindrical snout tipped by a tiny black nose and tiny mouth. His beady black eyes stared unblinking as he waited on them. His smooth skin was covered by alternating black and white stripes over its entire body—at least the part exposed by its uniform. In complete contrast to the diminutive mouth at the tip of his snout, his deep voice seemed comically out of place.

  “Yore name and methuud of payment, pleez.” The black and white striped alien spoke with a distinct drawl, enunciating his words in slow motion.

  “Thank technology for universal translators,” Jysar said with obvious gladness.

  “Indeed,” Minstrel-Zuuk concurred, turning up the volume.

  “Are you a Mrad?” Jysar asked.

  “No, I am a Clakza. Our species are hired exclusively by the Mrad to operate their great system."

  A loud drumming noise erupted from behind the striped Clakza, effectively interrupting their conversation.

  “Wait jesst a moment, pleez.” He turned to look back at the numerous enclaves of search terminals. At one of them a group of five aliens stared intently at the screen. Two of them slammed their fists onto the console again, almost as if hitting it would make it work better.

  “An-ny trouble over thar?” the Clakza yelled politely.

  The two aliens looked up, a sheepish grin on their faces. “No, no, no, everything fine. No trouble here.” They smiled innocently and stopped their attack—for the moment.

  “Well, jest holler out if you need help with that machine. And pleez, don't damage it.” He started to turn back to Minstrel-Zuuk.

  “Oh no, we no damage. We just use.” Their innocent smiles widened.

  Jysar stared in shock at the impertinent aliens, obviously troubled that anyone would treat technology with such blatant disregard. He sighed loudly, rolling his eyes in disbelief.

  “Some aliens just don't know how to treat technology, do they?” Rok whispered to Jysar with a humorous tone.

  Jysar shook his head.

  “Mah name is Ablek, how mah I assist yew with our Search-terminals?” The Clakza smiled.

  “Ablek, we would like to purchase time on three terminals. Myself and my friends behind me.” Three of the eye-stalks turned to eye the others while the other four remained fixed on Ablek.

  Ablek gave a cursory glance to Minstrel-Zuuk, Jysar and Rok. But he paused as he glanced at Kyle and Jaric.

  “Whar in the great wad galaxy do you two come frum? Never seen the likes of yore kind here before,” Ablek said with surprise.

  “Humans, we're humans,” Kyle said with an angry edge to his voice. He'd had just about enough of aliens sniffing and talking down to him for one day.

  “Sounds like he'd be more at home on an agricultural planet than this place,” Jysar whispered with mirth as he glanced at Ablek.

  Minstrel-Zuuk spoke again, trying to focus everyone back on the primary purpose for coming here.

  “Our purpose is to search for any references related to humans among your vast computer network.” Minstrel-Zuuk's eye-stalks all faced Ablek again, eyeing the little alien intently. “Jysar also has some specific search parameters for his personal research, as do I. We require three Search-terminals."

  Ablek turned to another of his kind and shouted. “Hey, kick that machine on, will ya. It's for this big fella here with all the eyes."

  The alien's loud voice caused every head in the room to turn toward them.

  “Man, I feel embarrassed just being near this alien,” Jaric whispered to Kyle as he tried to ignore the stares that went from the humans back to Ablek.

  “You should have more respect for your technology than that!” Jysar growled, his patience at an end.

  “Hey, lighten up fella. It's just a fi-gur of speech.” Ablek pointed as his companion flicked a couple of switches and brought the Search-terminal online for Minstrel-Zuuk. “This parr-ticularr unclave waz dee-signed to seat extra large aliens. The uther terminals are fer more normal-sized aliens."

  Ablek motioned for Minstrel-Zuuk to take his Search-terminal.

  A few minutes later Jysar sat on his own terminal busily using the system while Rok, Jaric and Kyle sat together at a third one.

  But before Jaric could begin, Kyle's communicator beeped.

  “It must be Mother wondering what our status is,” Kyle said as he took the device from his belt and held it up to his mouth.

  “Kyle here."

  “Have you entered your search routines into the Mrad system yet?” Mother asked with a soft, feminine voice.

  Kyle looked over at Jaric. Both smiled knowingly at each other.

  “What's the deal, Mother? Don't you trust us to get this done ourselves?” Kyle said, his voice laced with humor.

  “Of course, I was only checking in order to approximate the time you would return. I've discovered some interesting things about this place with my own scans—despite being limited by their security shields."

  “Maybe we can arrange a direct link for you to use their huge computer system, although I'd bet it won't be cheap. If they allow it at all,” Kyle said.

  “Yes, we will investigate that. But I want you to take the Bullet-Cars back, they will get you here quickly. Tonight is our music evening and I don't wish you to be late. I look forward to it every week."

  Kyle and Jaric smiled widely at each other—ever since arriving on RahajMr they had heard that riding the Bullet-Cars was a must do experience.

  Rok grinned wolfishly with keen anticipation.

  “Sure, Mother. We'll take the fastest transportation back possible—just so we won't be late. We wanted to take in all the scenery earlier, taking our time, you know."

  “Contact me if anything changes."

  The communicator went silent and Kyle replaced it back on his belt. “Let's get our search going here, we'll come back tomorrow and review any results."

  Rok cleared his throat. “May I suggest something?"

  Jaric and Kyle paused.

  “Sure,” they said together.

  “Many times, on many different planets, we have asked questions—we have searched for the tiniest references for the existence of other human survivors.” Rok took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts logically, remembering the different alien bars and taverns, the numerous network cafes, the countless conversations with traders, explorers and other beings who roamed the vast reaches space. And in all of them, never the first shred of hope that any other humans survived.

  A visible tension grew in both Jaric and Kyle. Rok sensed their fear of failure even before they entered the first search criteria.

  Because they fought alongside the Kraaqi against the T'kaan, Kyle and Jaric were anointed as Brethren. As their Brethren, Rok wanted to help them and not see their emotional wounds opened once more.

  Rok raised his head as he stroked his chin. “Allow me, from a non-hoo-man perspective, to define the descriptive criteria for the search. After all, if another alien race came into contact with human survivors, it will be their description, their reference in the ship's log or report. It will be a description about humans from their perspective—an alien perspective. So if I, a Kraaqi, define our search, it may have better success of making a match in the vast data of this system."

  Jaric felt his heart begin to race. He looked at Kyle and saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes too. And for the first time that day, he felt like they
might really succeed.

  “That's a great idea, Rok.” Kyle motioned for Rok to sit at the terminal. “Jaric and I will add human-specific criteria, such as proper names like Earth and Nuevo Mundo, names human survivors would likely mention to any aliens."

  “And the name...” Jaric suddenly seemed to lose his voice as his eyes narrowed. But he forced himself to continue. “T'kaan. They're likely to mention the enemy that destroyed humanity.” Jaric's eyes peered at the others.

  T'kaan was a name which they rarely uttered anymore.

  Kyle and Rok sighed with remembrance of the dreaded race.

  “Yes, we will. We have to,” Kyle said, a huskiness in his voice. He fought the anger that rose inside him.

  “Computer, description of species called hoo-man.” Rok paused, his eyes reflective a moment. “Warm-blooded and smooth-skinned race, skin color ranges from almond to chocolate brown with a wide variety of shades between. Male and female sex.” Rok looked Kyle and Jaric up and down slowly, pondering their physical description. “Hoo-mans walk upright on two legs. Two arms attached on upper part of cylindrical torso just below neck. Two eyes on forehead, two small, fleshy ears on either side of head. One mouth, lower part of head. Nose with two small nostrils located mid-face—thick growth of hair above forehead and over head and down to back of the neck."

  Rok paused again, staring at his two friends as if seeing them for the first time. Then he sniffed the air. He began to chuckle under his breath, but realized it would be something important.

  “Strong and pungent body odor—unpleasant."

  Kyle opened his mouth to argue, but Jaric placed his hand firmly on his shoulder.

  “They'd probably mention that,” Jaric whispered.

  “But it can become tolerable—with time.” Rok's eyes sparkled with mischief.

  Kyle wrinkled his nose subconsciously and nodded his head in agreement. “Okay. I'll buy that. Now, if that's it for your part, let Jaric and I input our criteria. I'm getting hungry."

  “Yeah, and I want to ride a Bullet-Car!” Jaric said eagerly.

  * * * *

  DEEP WITHIN THE data storage banks of the Mrad system an alarm routine activated.