Aurona, page 27
There was movement! Out of nowhere, a huge vehicle swiftly drew near, appearing to be nothing more than an enormous flat disc. Pale-looking humanoids were thickly covering the top surface, gesturing at Adam’s group. Hundreds of dark eyes were turned upward and long, slender fingers were pointing excitedly at the floating crew.
“Wow, this is it!” Adam whispered nervously.
Wide-eyed, their hearts pounding, the men reshuffled back into an orderly line. As the disc moved swiftly up under them and pressed lightly against their feet, they turned off their antigrav belts.
“Who’s got my sketchpad?” Adam hissed. He found his voice quavering.
It was down at the end of the line. Twenty-two shaking hands passed it back to him. Glancing up nervously and fumbling with his pen, he scrawled out a short runic message of greeting. Diplomatically imitating their mannerisms, he approached their apparent leader in a floating, graceful walk. Smiling awkwardly, he bowed, offering his simple scrawl.
As a pair of surprisingly anxious hands reached out with an easy spontaneity, quiet, sibilant-sounding gibberish hissed from hundreds of slit-mouths.
He whispered into the crew’s ear inserts. “I-I just wrote, ‘Greetings from the Earth’! What else could I say?”
The alien’s dark eyes widened as he read the message aloud to his companions. He spun around and looked squarely at Adam, firmly holding out his hand for the pen.
“Wow!” Tola gasped. “Apparently, sir, the pen is mightier than the sword!”
Adam winced, glancing over his shoulder. As he retrieved the pad, the writing immediately caught his attention: the alien’s flowery script was amazing, even beautiful. He studied the author’s sensitive hands. The fingers were slender and nimble, well adapted to turn out such a superior product, and the gracious words, warm with feeling, seemed to flow freely from the ornate piece of artwork. Although he found it harder to read, he translated the runes and read them aloud to his crew.
“I, Fendor, extend greetings from Aurona! Your message of peace coming down from our skies has finally dissuaded the few who have opposed your presence on our planet. First, we dropped our shields and now we have put away our great guns. Some, including myself, have anticipated your arrival for hundreds of years, Adam.”
He blinked with a start. “This guy knows my name? How…?”
Tola’s eyes urgently motioned him back down to the message.
Collecting himself, Adam continued translating. “Your grandfather simply appeared in a small craft one day. Although we initially opposed his presence, we finally reconsidered. Since then, his lively presence on our planet has been acknowledged by all as a true gift. Although we no longer know of his whereabouts, we welcome his progeny with open arms.”
Adam blinked back sudden, unbidden tears and bowed courteously, thanking them. He fired off a rapid reply on the pad. “I’m extremely sorry to inform you of my grandfather’s untimely death. He was my best friend.”
A terse, shocked conversation rapidly ensued. They passed the notepad back and forth, each reading the other’s reply aloud to their respective parties. Their host began to look even more pale as he wrote.
“But he simply cannot be dead! We talked with our minds a mere six hundred and twenty Earth-years ago! He, like us, was looking forward to your arrival with great eagerness!”
Adam couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. “That couldn’t be possible. I’m sorry to report that he died a few months before we embarked on this journey. I simply do not understand your concept of time. It is unthinkable. Did you know of his whereabouts while he lived on Aurona?”
“No, he was very secretive. Some say it may have been in the jungle, in a surface dwelling that he invented.”
“A surface dwelling?”
The alien tilted his head, perplexed. “Yes, the concept is repulsive to us as well.” Fendor visibly shuddered. “We do not understand how anyone could possibly live ‘up there’ on the surface. But he died so young! Could you please explain?”
Trying to remain unemotional and diplomatic, Adam pressed on. “Forgive me, but I simply don’t have any answers. The issue at the moment is not of my grandfather’s untimely passing, but of one of my crew. She is very special to me. Her name is Elena; she is missing and we think she has been taken down here.”
Truly surprised, the humanoids gaped at each other, their slit-mouths wide.
“If this female Elena is in our city,” Fendor answered, “then it is not by our knowledge. Perhaps she has been taken by force? We confess that we, as you, are not perfect. We have outlaws in our midst.”
Grimacing, Adam narrated the reply. Wow, this definitely wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Trying to keep the anguish out of his words, he forced himself to remain objective. “Elena is very dear to me. Perhaps you could help me find her?”
There was no hesitation. “Most definitely, my friend. You appear to be as genuine as your grandfather said you would be. We will help.”
Kron whispered into his ear inserts. “Ah, something just doesn’t wash, sir. Ask him why, if they were expecting us, did they have their shields up.”
Adam nodded. “Wow, that’s an excellent observation, Kron! Thanks!” He turned back to their host, scribbled rapidly, and handed him the question. Fendor’s dark eyes bored into him as he translated the answer.
“Some sensed opposition.”
“Yet you let us in?” he wrote nervously.
“Yes,” he read. “We trust you, Adam.” Suddenly, one symbol further, he noticed a larger, unmistakable runic marking, written in a heavier hand. “Secret.”
He glanced up in surprise at Fendor’s face. The dark eyes caught his own, then quickly motioned his attention back to the paper. Suddenly, he understood completely. He read on silently to himself, his eyes darting over the symbols. “Since you have tasted of the Rasheen, or mind-fruit, Adam, you should soon be able to see things clearly. We must protect our planet. Again, some sensed opposition within your crew. Watch your men closely.” His words carried great weight and were obviously meant to be answered immediately.
Pretending to have a simple problem in translation, Adam turned to the crew, hoping they hadn’t caught on. “Um, ah, I think these runes said that since we’ve tasted of the, ah, hospitality of the planet, they hope we find it to our liking.”
The explanation seemed plausible. The men shrugged their shoulders, smiling acceptance. Out of his peripheral vision, he studied his small team with his host’s new perspective. They all looked innocent enough as they stood there whispering to each other. His mind was reeling: obviously there were two sides to this thorny issue, so all future conversation would have to be continued in absolute privacy. But how? He glanced up. His host’s eyes were now boring deeply into him.
Suddenly he felt a familiar, uncomfortable pressure returning full force to the back of his skull. His eyes widened. Could this be … telepathy? Thinking quickly, he constructed some runes into a short, visual sentence. Concentrating, he beamed out the floating mind-message.
“Please help me.”
Immediately, thousands of startled eyes snapped toward him. There was a soft buffeting in his mind, a weird probing, and then as he’d hoped, an answer to his plea.
“Congratulations.”
Telepathy! And it was effortless! He translated his host’s blazing runic reply in his mind, the symbols scrolling by in a rapid clip.
“You have passed your first test, Adam. The rest is quite easy. Yes, we WILL help you. From afar we sensed a pressure of opposition within your crew, but as we cannot yet understand your difficult language, we could not read their actual thoughts. That task is up to you, but remember this: the ability to read another’s mind is a sacred privilege and not to be taken lightly. You will learn, with our tutoring, how to turn your new telepathic ability on and off, how to focus, and how to shield your thoughts.”
The symbols abruptly stopped. He looked up in surprise. His host looked nervous. “Excuse me, Adam, but you must turn back to your men immediately. We have been staring at each other far too long.”
He was stunned. The eleven were beginning to throw each other nervous glances. He grinned at them, waving awkwardly. His host nodded politely, turned on his heel, and walked back to his group.
Suddenly, another runic message flashed back to him! “And do not think that we cannot continue our mind-conversation because we no longer FACE each other!” He watched Fendor’s back in disbelief as he continued to walk away. This was flat out incredible! What kind of door had just been opened?
It was like drinking from a fire hose: the runes continued to flood his mind. “You will soon be able to send and receive mind-messages as we do, over great distances. I must close my thoughts for now, as we both have pressing formalities to attend to. I, for one, will be introducing you to our Supreme Leader. But remember, Adam, we are here, millions of us at your aid. You will not be alone. Good-bye.”
As the craft continued its descent, Adam rejoined his nervous group. Suddenly, he felt like he was a thousand years old. The unfamiliar pangs of etiquette and mind-manners were hammering relentlessly in his brain, and the intense cranial concentration was sapping his energy. He grimaced, his head pounding.
Kron broke the spell, nudging him. “Ah, you all right, sir? I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here, but what in the world just went on between you two? You were making faces like crazy, but that humanoid seemed calm enough.”
“Oh … that!” Groping for answers, he shook his drumming head. “Do you find it hard to adjust to the barometric pressure down here, Kron? I’ve always been hypersensitive! My ears pop like crazy! We must be nearly a mile below sea level!”
“Really? That far?” Satisfied, Kron quickly turned and explained it to the men. They nodded in sympathy, smiling back at him and pointing to their own painful ears.
As the craft neared the ground, preparations were frantic below them. The twelve huddled together, peering uneasily over the edge of the disc.
Chapter 15: THE CITY
Like thousands of glittering needles, a forest of sharply sculpted buildings soared up toward the transporter disc. The airy structures were of incredible workmanship, with cathedral-like spires and translucent white alabaster buttresses inlaid with fine filigree borders. Everywhere there were architectural embellishments of pure gold.
The large disc landed. Craning their necks around and gawking like tourists, the small party disembarked and scampered after their nimble, long-legged hosts. The black sphere hovered over Adam’s head, intently combing the horizon for Elena’s PIL signal, but it remained disappointingly silent. Everyone was moving fast. It seemed that Elena’s disappearance had spurred them all into a common sense of urgency.
They sprinted toward what appeared to be the on-ramp to a series of rapidly moving sidewalks. Anchored to the center of each rubbery moving belt were forward-facing seats and gleaming handrails. In single file, they edged nervously onto ever-faster traffic lanes, successively crossing them until they were at the center of a wide sidewalk superhighway.
Adam gripped a handrail tightly as they sped along, using his e-helmet’s infrared and radar to scan through the misty atmosphere. No vehicles seemed to be in evidence except for a few strange, flying wedge shapes and discs near the incredibly sharp points of the buildings. Evidently, the Auronians didn’t need surface transportation with this sidewalk speedway to take them everywhere! He sampled a quick air quality reading on his face screen. Just as he thought: absolutely pure! With a series of taps, he opened an outside port to take a whiff. Warm air poured in, clean, fresh and moist, but somehow with an undeniable tinge of perfume from … Motherlode Trees? He blinked in surprise. How could that odor make it down here into the depths of Aurona? Vents to the outside? Under low-power scope vision, he scanned the peaks of the distant buildings and then looked up, sharpening his focus. Thunderstruck, he gripped the rail.
“Holy cow!” he gasped. “I didn’t notice those on the way down!”
The men turned toward him in surprise, then followed his gaze upward. Showing faintly through the heavy, low-lying clouds, a widespread pattern of colossal stalactitelike cones covered the distant, vaulted ceiling!
Adam gripped the handrail and planted his feet apart for better balance. High power snapped one of the mammoth shapes up close. “Wow, incredible! Are they machines? But there’s hundreds of them, all exactly the same and spaced out over the ceiling!”
Suddenly, his headache returned in a rush of pressure. “Adam!” a blazing runic message scrolled by in his mind. “Please forgive my apparent lack of manners, but as you know, I cannot look toward you as I mind-speak. Your men simply would not understand our strange, silent conversation.”
He replied. “You mean I’m not supposed to look at you, either?”
“Yes, but not all the time. This is called the art of ‘separation.’ You must learn to separate your thoughts and actions in order to avoid disturbing those who have not yet eaten of the Rasheen. Now, I see you have just noticed our cones. How observant! I will try to answer your questions before we reach our rendezvous. Do not worry: the entire planet is now aware your Elena is missing.”
Adam gasped in surprise, then glanced nervously at the men behind him. Kron caught his eye, smiling. Thinking quickly, he returned to his tourist mode and smiled back, gesturing excitedly at the ceiling. Kron nodded enthusiastically.
“That is better, Adam, but still not perfect. Keep practicing.”
He noticed his host was slowly turning to face forward again. Evidently, his feeble attempt at separation had just been observed. His ears grew red. Chagrined, he quickly beamed a reply. “Thank you. I’ll try harder. Now, please tell me about those machines. I’m really curious!”
“The largest cone you see in the center is an antigrav support in the trillion-ton range. It aligns precisely on the surface with what you call a ‘Motherlode Tree.’ The smaller cones are laid out between them in a regular half-mile gridwork and are wired directly into each other. As a unit, they are multifunctional, but essentially they form our life support. All the gold and electrical fields that shield our planet are processed by the Motherlodes, which in turn are central portals for the electricity generated by photosynthesis. Yes, Adam, all our trees generate electricity: our genetic engineers discovered and enhanced this phenomenon. We observed your group an hour ago as they discovered our live bioelectric wiring. Your powers of experimentation and swift deductive reasoning were thrilling and exciting to experience!”
He grimaced. So they had been watched! He had a feeling that thousands of eyes had been boring down his neck.
His host continued. “For millions of years, all surface vegetation has been linked by their roots into what is now a huge web of production. We have power in abundance, with emergency backup storage for thousands of Auronian years. What you call Motherlodes are both our pride and our prize. Although we regularly eat of their fruit and nectar for its superior nutritive value, we eat of their Rasheen, or mind-fruit, in monthly rituals. We were extremely thankful that you only tasted it, Adam. In concentrations of more than one Earth-milligram, it is quite deadly!”
He gulped, grimacing. “Good thing I didn’t take a bigger bite! I want to, though.”
“Oh, no! I repeat: do not be tempted to ingest any more for now! A fragile human body cannot assimilate the Rasheen’s toxin at the rate of more than one gram per month! Unfortunately, our ancestors had to prove this fact through trial and error and have evolved through the millennia into our present body shape. Oh, speaking of shape, Adam, please take note of this: the softening of your cranium to accommodate a larger telepathic frontal brainmass has already begun and will soon be obvious to your crew.”
His eyes widened in shock.”What?”
“Do not worry, the cranial swelling is gradual and painless. The skull will grow outwardly from its fissures like a seafloor ridge expanding beneath the oceans.”
Adam was doing his best at practicing his new split personality. Desperately assimilating and translating the incoming reams of preposterous-sounding information, he was simultaneously acting out a totally different body language for his crew. Fendor turned to stare at him pointedly, making eye contact.
“Very good, Adam! You are learning ‘separation’ extremely fast! Hmm, actually much faster than your grandfather, probably because of your age. Well, no matter. Age is no longer that much of a consideration to you.”
He suddenly felt overwhelmed. “What-what did you mean by that? I meant the age part? I don’t understand.”
His host seemed to anticipate his question. “A twofold series of neurological and physiological events have already been triggered within your body, Adam,” he answered calmly. “Besides the fact that your neurons have begun to grow much faster than any time during your short human gestation, the mechanism of aging within each of your body’s cells has begun to enter a most critical phase. The Bandor element within the Rasheen has begun to slow down all of your cell’s internal clocks by securely tying together the ends of what your grandfather called ‘telomeres.’ Do you understand me thus far? What I am saying is that time and aging have now begun to be distorted far beyond your present comprehension.”
Adam found himself nodding vehemently inside his helmet. He glanced around, hoping the men didn’t see. “Ah, does that mean I’m not getting any older?”
“No. You ARE getting older, but at a vastly slower rate. Let me see: speaking in Earth terms, I am estimating that your next one-year anniversary of birth should occur in approximately fifty Auronian years….”
He interjected excitedly. “What? That means I can now multiply my expected Earthly life span of eighty-five years by a factor of fifty?” He did the math quickly. “No way! That computes to 3,825 years! Impossible! That I cannot believe!”
The answer was adamant. “Believe it, Adam. And with your extreme youth, there is even a chance that this rate of aging turns out to be an exponential factor, but….”
