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Chapter Five
Aboard the Ark
The trip back to the ark provided the professor with
an opportunity to show off the Class 4 Stunner again. As they reached the edge of the forest, a trio of predators
similar to the ones who attacked the leaper had furtively peaked through the
foliage of the forest and startled Arkru half out of his wits. Because he deliberately fired above the
spike-toes’ heads, there were no fatalities, so he couldn’t be certain if their
weapons were really effective against the dinosaurs’ thick hides. But he felt vindicated once more. And it was all on tape! Just like the trap, in which a minor
shock wave had kept creatures inside, their stunners need not hit or harm their
targets to have an effect.
Fortifying
Arkru’s iron will was the professor’s natural aversion against needlessly
killing alien life. “Guns are not toys!” he once more reminded them as the
spike-toes fled into the trees.
After
seeing their collective bloodlust when Zither shot the flyer down, he felt
justified in controlling their use. “Only I can fire at-will and decide who
will shoot,” came the familiar refrain, as he stuck his weapons back into his
belt. “Everyone else must wait for my command!”
Rifkin
thought his caution both foolish and unnecessary, clinching the steering wheel
with irritation as he listened to the professor’s words.
“Wait? Wait to be torn to pieces?” he murmured
to his team. “The Old Ones would’ve incinerated those fellows to ashes if
they’d crossed their path.”
“The
Old Ones had more powerful weapons,” Omrik said thoughtfully, looking over at
Rifkin’s gun. “....What if the third setting on the stunners is not enough?”
“Well,
there’s only one way to find out,” Rifkin gave him a crafty look. “You just
wait until we begin collecting in the forest. We’ll see how much damage setting three can do!”
Shizwit,
who now carried the keys, was tempted to tell the professor what Rifkin had in
mind. The keys, she was certain,
had given her great power.
“You’re
not an Old One,” she spoke to him for the first time. “You must show reverence
for alien life.”
After
parking their crawlers beneath the ship’s hold, the professor and his team
leaders climbed out of their vehicles with the team members to stretch their
legs and wait anxiously for the ramp to open. As they waited to enter the ship, the students appeared to
be too exhausted to talk very much, everyone that is except Rifkin. He took this opportunity to discuss
with Rezwit Zither’s behavior this morning. He did not publicly call Zither a coward. Shizwit and Omrik would have censored
him for attacking their old friend, and the softhearted Urlum would surely have
disapproved. In a less than
discreet whisper, however, he told Rezwit exactly what he thought of Zither
actions below the rock and the cowardly look he saw on his face. It didn’t matter that the professor had
given him the honor of shooting the first beast, as Rifkin reminded him, Zither
would prove to be spineless when he took his team into the jungle. Alafa, who had no quarrel with the
well-mannered Zither, managed to overhear this slander. Without hesitation, she shuffled as
quickly as possible in her ponderous suit to the professor with this
information in the hopes of ingratiating herself with him again.
“Thank
you, Alafa.” He smiled tolerantly at her disclosure. “I’m well aware of
Rifkin’s feelings toward Zither. What did Rezwit say?”
“Rezwit
has no opinion of his own,” she replied contemptuously. “He believes everything
Rifkin says!”
“Keep
this between us Alafa.” Arkru affectionately patted her helmet. “It’s been a
long morning. We’re all tired and
hungry. At least those boys kept
it between themselves.”
Agreeing
reluctantly to his request, Alafa walked covertly over to Shizwit and Omrik and
told them exactly what she had overheard, spreading Rifkin’s slander even
further among the group.
******
When
the ramp was finally lowered to the ground, most of the students and
technicians filed impatiently up into the decontamination room of the
ship. This chamber was centered
between the engine thrusters and was on the same level as the engine room of
the ship. Not long afterwards, as
the group stood there waiting for decontamination to begin, Zorig, Rifkin,
Zither, and Rezwit drove their crawlers up into the chamber. As soon as the ramp closed behind the
last crawler, the group and their vehicles were bombarded with a cleansing mist
that killed all forms of microscopic life and cleaned away the toxic chemicals
clinging to their life support systems and the surface of the crawlers. Following the decontaminating mist,
there was a detoxifying gas that cleaned off the poisonous mist and allowed
them to safely remove their suits and hang them onto the bulkhead encircling
the room.
During this ordeal, the students and technicians
assisted each other in removing their life support systems. It took Zorig’s entire team to help
Arkru out of his suit. The
youngsters Lumnal, Yorzl, and Zeppa also required special assistance in
climbing out of their life support systems. After hanging up his own suit, Professor Arkru walked up and
down the line prodding everyone to finish before the medics arrived. To an observer looking on, the bipedal
gestures and facial expressions of the children would have seemed quite natural
at this point. Except for their
cat-like eyes, which blinked inexplicably at times, they smiled, frowned,
nodded, groaned and yawned like humans.
The movement of their arms and legs was quite human-like too.
Physically,
however, the Revekians had no equivalent on earth. They were bald-headed, flat-faced, earless and lacked bodily
hair. Their smooth, unblemished skin was a ghastly shade of pink. The females had two rows of
breasts—three on each side—outlined provocatively in the inner garment they
wore. The males exhibited a more
robust physique in their shoulders and limbs. All of the Revekians, regardless of age or sex, had arms
that appeared to be too long for their long-trunked bodies. They had unusually large feet for their
small size and four sucker-tipped fingers on each hand. Despite these common features, there
were, as in human populations, variations in their facial structure and the
shape of their heads. Among
Arkru’s students, these differences could be illustrated in Zither’s long,
scholarly skull, Urlum’s heart-shaped noggin, and Rifkin’s square, athletic
cranium and jaw. Except for the
Professor and the chief technician Zorig, the students and technicians of the
crew were between one and one and a half meters tall. Zither, the oldest student in his class, was naturally the
tallest, though Rifkin and Rezwit towered over their teammates too.
As
the group stood there waiting for the hatch to open, they welcomed the
cleansing air blowing from the ship’s vents. They were liberated from the restrictions of their life
support systems and the poisonous atmosphere of this world. A sudden feeling of pride swelled
Professor Arkru’s chest, and yet a pang of conscience, even sadness, followed
for the difficult path lying ahead.
Today was a great milestone in their lives. They were more than just students to him now; they were his
colleagues. Most of them were
already his friends. After
everything they had gone through together, they had become his family. He had tried to make the ship their
home. As a result of his efforts,
he was becoming a father figure to many of them, acting as a teacher and
disciplinarian when they needed guidance but trying to give them comfort when
they grew heartsick for home.
After
shedding their cumbersome suits, everyone, the Professor included, emerged from
their life support systems wearing a light-weight inner garment intended for
modesty more than effect. None of
them seemed to care at this stage how their thin garments clung to their
perspiring bodies and revealed the contours of their frames. They stood there those moments in the
decontamination chamber with haggard faces, collectively shivering and staring
mutely at each other, their large feline eyes blinking half mast with
exhaustion and their simian faces still benumbed by the wonders of today.
Suddenly,
as the hatch flew open and warm air from the corridor flooded in, Eglin, the
chief medic, entered the room.
Close on his heels, his assistant Varik carried the equivalent of
thermometers, a stethoscope and equipment to monitor breathing, toxic levels,
and the pressure of the blood.
With Eglin inputting data on his wrist, Varik began checking the vital
signs of the students and technicians, stopping for a longer period of time to
listen to Professor Arkru’s ancient heart. A cheer went up when the professor received a clean bill of
health.
Having
completed the examinations satisfactorily, Eglin and Varik bowed politely
before exiting the room. Another
cheer went up from the students when the professor motioned for them to leave. Upon receiving a signal from Arkru,
Ibris and Tobit hoisted between them a small box, which was essentially a
miniature life-support chamber, containing the flyer shot down by Zither
today. Arkru, Zorig, Urlum, the
students, and the two technicians filed out of the decontamination chamber into
the corridor, crowding into the large cargo elevator on level one. There was not enough room in the
elevator, especially with the container on the floor. When the elevator lights lit up at level two, the group
collectively groaned. The
professor looked anxiously down at the box, punching the level twelve button
several times in order to cancel out the delay.
“Someone
pushed the up button,” he said wearily. “It must be one of the storage
clerks. I’ll shoosh them away!”
“Are
they deaf?” Zorig asked in disbelief. “The bridge announced our arrival to
everyone. Why couldn’t they just
take the stairs?”
As
the elevator doors opened on level two, they were greeted by the ship’s storage
clerks, Hobi, Jitso, and Gennep, whose job it was to manage the food supplies,
materials, and general repairs necessary for running the ship. Later, when the decontamination chamber
had aired out enough, the life support system suits they left on the hangers
would be picked up by the clerks and carefully inspected for possible
repairs. Each suit’s battery level
would also be checked. The air
canisters would be topped of with the correct blend of oxygen, helium, and
argon gas. The clerks would then
drive their vehicles one-by-one from the chamber, up the cargo elevator, for
inspection in the crawler bay of the ship’s stores, located on level two of the
ship. For now, however, there was
a festive note in Hobi’s voice as he informed them that, thanks to Commander
Falon, everyone was going to a fabulous banquet within the hour to celebrate
this extraordinary day.
The students and technicians cheered this news. The professor felt honored that Falon
had done this on his own without being asked. Several of the students now volunteered to use the staircase
rather than endure the crowded elevator again.
******
To
an observer inspecting the ark, the entire vessel would have seemed quite
cramped and was, in many places, eclectic, eccentric, and even a little
mad. Almost every inch of space
not used for storage or official functions was utilized for aesthetic or
scientific displays. Despite the
strict conduct demanded by Falon to run his ship, the narrow corridors
connecting each room were painted garishly and gloriously to please the eye. Revekian art, after thousands of years
of cultural evolution, had become complex and thematic and was so politically
and socially motivated it told a story and presented a message to the onlooker
everywhere one looked. Epoch
themes of early Revekian history leading up to the Old Ones destruction of the
colonized planets in their solar system melted into impressionistic scenes of
Revekian society and wildlife from their world. There were no guidelines whatsoever for artistic
renderings. Doors were painted
along with walls and floors, and at several points even the ceilings were
splattered with pictures of the Old Ones, ancient Revekian heroes, or the once
verdant forests of Revekia now withering beneath a gasping sun.
The
professor used every vacant space available on the vessel for trophies and
oddities from the home planet and those artifacts gathered from other
worlds. Among the countless
scientific curiosities and treasures taken with them on their mission were
meteorites and exotic minerals from the home planet now setting along various
passageways, while large, enigmatic fossils from Beskol, Raethia, and Orm were
found along other corridors of the ship.
There were Revekian plants in pots at almost every turn to compliment
the murals painted throughout the ship.
The professor didn’t want the students, technicians, or ship’s crew to
forget the greatness and wonder of their own world. Everywhere they looked on the ship was, in fact, a constant
reminder of home but also a showcase of what they had collected so far in
space. In many respects, the ark
seemed like one great, continuous museum.
In many more ways, an observer would conclude that it was really a great
arboretum and space-going zoo.
Looking
through the elevator window, the students had fleeting glances of various
levels of the ship. Through the
window, level three, the first enclosure area for life forms, dropped from
view. On this level amphibian-like
creatures and other life forms from their own dying world would one day be
deposited on a compatible planet, which had not yet been found. On the next level, specimens from
Revekia’s own solar system, which were also in danger of being wiped out in the
coming supernova, had been carefully collected and placed in enclosures. The larvae of giant sand bugs and other
strange creatures of the holy planet of Orm were the most important specimens
on level four. Before being
destroyed by the Old Ones in the Solar Wars, representative life forms had been
captured from Furzi, Rimmi, and Modrit, while the intelligent beings of their
civilizations were resettled on Revekia, Oritzim, and Orm. The captured life forms were displayed
in large enclosures, smaller cages, and glass containers: walking, waddling,
slithering, and flying creatures—all much smaller than the life forms on Irignum
but more precious to Professor Arkru because of what the Old Ones had done.
On
level five, the life forms of Tomol, which was several billion miles away from
Revekia, might have been disappointing to an observer who had just witnessed
Irignum’s animals and plants. And
yet Tomol’s primitive life forms were quite fascinating, offering a menagerie
of filmy, will-o’the wisp creatures from its primeval seas. Its many aquatic animals and plants,
after being scooped out of Tomol’s oceans, were placed in a carefully prepared
solution and supplied with synthetic food through special tubes—an entire level
of aquariums for Arkru’s zoo.
On
level six, Beskol, light-years away from the Revekian solar system, exhibited
several animals as strange as Irignum’s scaly creatures and furry beasts. The willowy, long-legged and almost
brainless shamgar and the umgi, which would have looked much like the sea
urchins inhabiting the earth today, had become two of the Revekian’s favorite
foods. For that matter, on level seven,
members of Raethia’s flora and fauna provided the ship with much of its weekly
fare. The hideous looking dakkas,
in particular, who looked like giant centipedes, had to be killed regularly and
eaten because they grew to be giants on their world.
From
Raethia’s enclosures on level seven, the elevator passed four levels that had
been reserved for additional worlds, such as Irignum, but because of the bounty
found on the current planet, Irignum would probably require level eight, nine,
ten, and eleven as well to accommodate the flora and fauna of this world. There were no specimens taken from
Lorg, the planet on which the Old Ones had been exiled. Only microscopic organisms lived on
this primitive world at the edge of the galaxy—a fitting place for the Old Ones
to live.
The
elevator now stopped at level twelve on which the ship’s scientific
laboratories and infirmary were found.
The professor motioned impatiently for the others to continue up to
their quarters. Trembling from
exhaustion, he wrung his hands nervously as Ibris and Tobit carried the flyer
to his lab and lowered the container shakily to the floor. With Ibris’ assistance, Zorig placed
the container into an enclosure he had set up yesterday after he had taken
Urlum back to the ship. Arkru
complimented Zorig on his workmanship; the enclosure was a miniature of the
larger versions being constructed for the ark. Irignian air was now pumped into the enclosure. Using the robotic arms the professor designed,
Zorig removed the container lid, lifted the flyer out, and sat him gently on a
bed of synthetic moss. Genuine
Irignian moss would replace his bed when the expeditions began. To Arkru’s joy, it opened its large
reptilian eyes almost instantly and began flapping its leathery wings, feebly
trying to escape the environmental enclosure that would become its home.
Satisfied
that it would not die if properly fed, the professor ordered the technicians to
find out exactly what the flyer ate.
Until they knew what its diet was, they would leave it some of the leafy
foliage they found near the ship.
After leaving the flyer in its controlled environment, the professor and
his technicians re-entered the empty elevator. Arkru was light-headed with exhaustion. His great feeling of accomplishment was
dulled by hunger and fatigue.
Again the elevator doors opened up, this time at the students and
technicians’ quarters on level thirteen, to let Zorig, Ibris, and Tobit
out. Passing level fourteen where
the ship’s crew slept, the professor was soon exiting the elevator onto level
fifteen, which was provided for the ship’s officers and himself.
“I’m ready to drop!” he mumbled to himself. “…. Give
me a bowel of dakka porridge and a full night’s sleep!”
After
showering and putting on his finest clothes, however, the professor felt as if
he had been given a second wind.
No sooner had he left his quarters, than he was walking alongside of
Remgen, Falon’s first mate, who was on his way to the feast. Suddenly, to his annoyance, another one
of Falon’s chief officers joined them in the corridor. Remgen and Chief Engineer Dazl chatted
with him about the adventures he and the students had today, but they might as
well been speaking Furzian to the professor as Arkru contemplated the feast.
His
mind now in a happy fog, the professor found himself traveling by stairs this
time with Remgen, Dazl, and Communications Officer Abwur, who joined them at
the stairwell entry, which led to the destination of everyone on the ship this
hour: the ship’s dining hall, on level sixteen of the ark. As a convenience to overstuffed diners
and overworked members of the crew, a recreation room was situated across the
corridor from the dining hall that contained all manner of exercise equipment
and entertainment.
Above
this level, where Abwur, the communications officer, spent most of his time,
were the control centers of the ship.
On level seventeen the massive ship’s computer and communication
equipment took most of the space on this deck. Level eighteen, where Falon, the ship’s commander, now
stood, was the most important deck on the ship, for, in addition to a large
conference room aft, the forward portion of level eighteen contained the
bridge. Sitting between two
observation domes of the vessel that resembled two monstrous eyes, was the
control console for navigation and the main communication link between the
explorers and the mother ship in space.
Falon,
who also acted as watchdog for their mission, looked out from the warm ambience
of the bridge upon Irignum’s meadow and to the forest beyond. He was only a child when the Doctors of
Science wrestled control of their planet from the warlike Old Ones. His own father had been among those
good doctors who took control of their world. The Old Ones had been exiled to Lorg for their actions in
the Solar Wars. He fully supported
the peaceful policies of the new regime and yet, because of the attitude of
many of his officers and his crew, had allowed his ship to be painted with
murals of the Old Ones exploits and deeds. The spirit of the Old Ones lived on even in the young students. He was afraid now that the daredevil
attitudes of students, such as Rifkin, Vimml, and Rezwit, would bring great
misfortune to the rest of their group.
In
addition to being responsible for the operation of the ship and assisting Arkru
in the mission to collect specimens to populate other planets, Falon was
answerable to the Mother Ship for the safety of the personnel who would brave
the current world. If they failed
in their objectives, he, not the good professor, would be blamed. If students or crewmen died, he would
be held accountable for this too.
He had the greatest responsibility aboard ship and therefore the final
say. He should, he told his
navigator, never have agreed to Arkru’s plan for using students to collect
specimens, especially with Rifkin running amuck. Now that the collections were so imminent, he was not sure
if they should proceed. He wanted
adults to accompany each team, but the professor saw this as a betrayal of
trust toward his class. How could
I have allowed this to happen? He
asked himself as he stood gazing out the window of the bridge. Why couldn’t I have just said No?
Looking
back to this morning’s discussion with Arkru, Falon remembered scolding him for
his optimism. There was a
dangerous complacency among Arkru and his students that had begun that first
day their ship touched down on this world. Orix, the navigator, and Remgen, his first mate, were aware
of this too. Because of the homing
signal of their ship and the ambience of the vessel’s antennas and electronic
gear, it appeared as if there was a buffer zone that extended up to a mile
around the ship. This had happened
before on Raethia and Beskol. He
and his officers, after much discussion, however, were convinced that this
“ambient effect” in the meadow would fade with time as the creatures became
adapted to this zone. More
important for the students’ safety than even the buffer zone in the meadow was
the effectiveness of their traps in holding creatures at bay in the forest and
the question of whether or not their weapons would function adequately if put
to the test.
So
far the limited testing of their Model 7 Cloaking Force Field Trap and Class 4
Stunner had been successful, but the real test for these devices, he was certain,
would come deep in the forest, itself, when the students were on their
own. The trap’s success in the
buffer zone meadow and the group’s unproblematic venture into the fringes of
the forest did not count as far as he was concerned. Tomorrow would be a most crucial day; he dreaded it more
than any other time in their long odyssey through space.
After
one last meditative look at the meadow and forest below, Commander Falon exited
the bridge and walked down the stairwell, the last member of the ship’s company
to enter the dining hall for the feast.
******
Everyone
displayed various stages of fatigue after their excursion into the forest. No one appeared to be more exhausted
this hour than during those first two days on Irignum. The students and technicians had been
given an emotional, if not, physical boost by their first adventure into the
forest. The youngsters, who had
required naps after yesterday’s trek into the meadow, were much too excited this
time to sleep. Even the male
technicians, who had been the least motivated of Arkru’s group, were jubilant
this afternoon and mingled with the students as equals as they filed into the
dining hall and chatted about this morning’s events.
The
professor, whose old bones had felt the weight of Irignum’s gravity and labored
in his life support system until he thought he might drop, had been invigorated
by today’s wonders and the success of the Class 4 Stunner. He was pleased that the little flyer,
their first specimen from Irignum, was enclosed satisfactorily on the ark. More important than even this event, of
course, was the fact that no one had been injured or killed. So far their mission on Irignum had
been a success. He was troubled by
the continued enmity between members of the class and the influence Rifkin had
on members of the group. Even
Alafa, his most promising female student, appeared to be intriguing against
Rezwit, her team leader, now.
Putting these troubling thoughts out of his mind, he sought out the
officers’ table and settled down for a well-deserved feast.
During their festive dinner, in which all the
favorite Revekian foods were served, Arkru and Falon brought their two groups
together in the ship’s dining hall as they had done during the festive
occasions on other worlds. Falon,
who entered the dining hall last, warmly shook the professor’s hand before he
seated himself. For the first time
in many months, the ship’s schedules were organized so that all of the
commander’s officers and crew would dine with the professor’s students and
technicians at the same time. Even
the cooks, who were setting up the buffet table, would join the feast.
The
enmity between some of the professor’s students seemed to disappear now. The traditional separation between
military and civilian crewmembers was abandoned completely in wake of the
momentous discoveries on this planet.
All barriers, in fact, between crewmembers vanished this hour. The commander, navigator,
communications officer, first, second, and third mates, chief engineer, ship’s
doctor, and general crew marveled at the stories the students told. Arkru was encouraged by this
camaraderie but not fooled.
Irignum was proving to be an extraordinary planet, which made this a very
special hour. Everyone was in the
best of moods this afternoon. Whether or not this harmony would last or, more
specifically, Rifkin would put aside his rivalry with Zither and stop sowing
dissention among the ranks, remained to be seen. But it pleased Arkru immensely to see everyone getting along
so well. So much hinged on his
most brilliant student. Rifkin’s
previous exploits on Raethia, Beskol, and Orm had made him a hero to the
students but an oddity to the ship’s crew.
Omrik,
Shizwit, and Yorzl did not know what to make of him at first. This afternoon in the dining hall,
however, they appeared to be caught up in the spirit of their new team as
Rifkin recounted his brave assent up the rock and the wonders he witnessed at
its peak. Rifkin had set a fire in
Omrik and Shizwit’s imaginations and—for good or bad—given the youngster Yorzl
a dynamic role model to follow.
A
much more reliable role model, Arkru believed, was Rezwit, who led Team Number
Three. At this very moment, he
could hear Alafa and Rezwit bragging about how the professor asked them to guard
the group as they ascended the rock.
As team players, they used the term “we” instead of the egocentric “I”
used by Rifkin when describing their exploits on this world. Arkru watched Rifkin’s reaction closely
as they boasted to Falon’s shipmates that they were the best team. He had thought the same thing yesterday
when they performed so well with their stunners and behaved so well this
morning in the forest.
Fortunately,
for the sake of peace, Rifkin was too busy bragging about himself to overhear
what they said. The room was
buzzing with different discussions about their first expedition into the
jungle. The ship’s crew wanted to
hear about Irignum’s strange and wonderful beasts. For most of those fortunate enough to have fired their
weapons in the jungle, the topic was also the Class 4 Stunner. Rifkin, having run out of subject
matter for this morning, began talking about his personal exploits on past
worlds and what he planned on achieving on this one too.
“I’m
going to trap one of those three horns,” Arkru heard him declare. “Those
scoop-mouths will be easy pickings and so will those dumb-looking things with
clubs on their tails. You just
wait and see, I’ll get me one of those leapers too.”
“Leaper?”
First Mate Remgen shuddered at the thought. “Is that what you call them?”
“Uh
huh,” Rifkin nodded enthusiastically. “The professor named it Irufum rizolum
which means leaping killer, like the leaper we saw on our viewing screens, only
bigger, like the one we saw from the rock!”
“Now
Rifkin,” Chief Engineer Dazl shook his head in disbelief, “your professor would
not send you children out to nab one of those beasts. The good Doctor Arkru wouldn’t do a thing like that!”
“It’s
true,” Rifkin grew defensive. “We’re going to start with hatchlings and eggs. Later we’ll be able to catch juveniles
if we widen the perimeter of out traps.”
“Those
juveniles better be pretty small,” Dazl scoffed derisively. “That leaping
what-you-may-call-it wouldn’t fit in the ship’s hold if he was one half its size!”
“Ho-ho!”
First Mate Remgen slapped the table with glee. “A baby monster would be too big
for you whelps!”
“I’m
not a child,” Rifkin shot back in a challenging voice, “I’m a collector! Someday I’ll have my own ship!”
At
that point, the shipmates surrounding Team One’s table broke into laughter at
Rifkin’s spirit, but Arkru was dismayed by Rifkin’s boasts, and Falon seemed
vindicated in his distrust of Rifkin now.
“There,” he murmured to Arkru, “you heard him say
it. His own ship, in deed! He’s not a team player, Arkru, not like
the others. He’s a leader, all
right, but a reckless leader whose courage might become a liability to his
team!”
“I
have faith in Rifkin,” the professor replied unconvincingly to Falon. “I know
he’s headstrong and stubborn, but he’s dedicated to our mission. He’ll get the job done.”
“You
mustn’t laugh at me,” he heard Rifkin protest to Remgen and Dazl. “It’s not polite!”
It
was always difficult to know how serious Rifkin was. Now that he had gotten himself into this controversy, Arkru
was curious to see how he would get himself out. Rifkin was defending their mission to the first mate and
chief engineer, but he seemed to be going about it the wrong way. He reminded them how important their
mission was on Irignum, but he could not help defending his own importance in
it to them. It was still, Arkru
noted with disappointment, “I’m going to do this” and not “We’re going to do
this.” As Falon had sensed, Rifkin
had little faith in his lackluster team, though he was totally confident in
himself. What began as gentle
banter between Rifkin and the officers had begun sounding like sheer impudence
to many listeners because of the haughty tone he used.
“Rifkin,”
Arkru called to him finally, “that’s enough. Calm down boy.
They’re just having some fun.”
“Yes,
Rifkin,” Shizwit whispered into her leader’s ear, “stop trying to defend our
mission by bragging about what you’ve done! You, Omrik, Yorzl, and I are a team. I’m sick of listening to your
insufferably childish exploits.
Our mission on Irignum is not just about you!”
Rifkin,
suddenly self-conscious after the professor’s censure, lowered his voice and
sat there glaring at Shizwit. “…. You little bitch!” he growled under his breath. Snickering amongst themselves, as Rifkin’s own
teammate—Shizwit of all people!—took him to task, Remgen and Dazl discussed
this observation with their friends.
With
several conversationalists competing in the room, Falon pointed to Zither who
sat quietly with his team talking in a low voice about what was expected in the
days ahead. As in the case of
Shizwit and unlike Rifkin, Zither didn’t blare his exploits to the entire
room. In the peaceful demeanor of
this student, a greater contrast could not be found to Rifkin on the entire
ship.
“That’s
the kind of leader I like,” he informed the professor. “I’ve talked to that
young fellow on the bridge. He has
a clear perception of what our mission is. He’s the most mature student you have—certainly the most
responsible in the group!”
“Awe
yes, the noble Zither,” Arkru noted with sarcasm, “the most conscientious
leader I have. I put Vimml on his
team, hoping Zither would tame him down.
He’s got his hands full with Vimml and Zeppa. I just hope he can do the job.”
As
the professor waited anxiously with everybody else for the food to be brought
in, he listened to Falon and Orix’s views on student collecting. Falon continued to believe that an
adult should accompany each team.
Navigator Orix and Doctor Eglin went one step further and advised Arkru
to put the whole affair into military hands. According to Eglin, only a seasoned team of adults should
even be in the forest. In their
collective view Zither was a model student: a well-behaved pupil and hard
worker, who knew his place. Rifkin,
on the other hand, was a troublemaker and glory-seeker. The ship and its mission in the galaxy,
they agreed, needed precision and professional teamwork that immature students
like Rifkin couldn’t provide.
The
professor tried not to listen to their critical remarks. He was still quite proud of all his
students and the success of his revised stunner and trap. The dissention in the ranks, especially
between Rifkin and Zither, seemed forgotten after their success today. He didn’t hear Rifkin’s anger at
Shizwit for taking him to task.
Nor was he aware of Vimml’s resentment for his new leader or did he
realize that Alafa and Rezwit had an ongoing rivalry amongst themselves. Arkru was just glad to see the
standoffish Zither socializing with his new team instead of his old friends
Shizwit and Omrik, who were learning to function now as members of Rifkin’s
team. He was also heartened to see
the normally introverted Shizwit actually talking to the loud-mouthed,
overbearing Rifkin, her spirits now buoyed by her new role as Key Master of the
guns. He didn’t know what she was
saying in response to Rifkin’s boasting, but just to see her so animated warmed
his heart. Shizwit had come out of
her shell, Zither had gained the respect of crewmen, and, with the apparent
exception of Rifkin, an esprit de corps was growing in the student teams.
It
seemed only appropriate to him that his newly organized foursomes sat with each
other today. The students could
socialize with their old friends any other time on the ship. Tomorrow, he reflected indulgently, as
he and his technicians turned their attention to creating the environment for
Irignum’s beasts, Teams One, Two, and Three would go out together into the
forest to collect specimens for the ark.
Falon and his crew would have the mundane task of running the ship,
while his students had the privilege of exploring this exotic world.
As
the ship’s company waited for the cooks to finish bringing out their food, an
excited babble of discussions filled the room concerning both the aromatic
smells and the events of today. A
sumptuous feast, wafting from the ship’s galley into the dining hall, waited to
be devoured. An informal signal
given by Wurbl, the chief cook, caused an undisciplined rush to the food. Rezwit, Grummel, Alafa, and Lumnal, who
were closest to the buffet table, reached the dishes first, followed by Rifkin,
Yorzl, and Omrik, as Shizwit sat in meditative silence in her chair. Zither was able to restrain Illiakim
and Zeppa, but could not stop Vimml from racing to be next. Ibris and Tobit had likewise been
prevented by their leader Zorig from charging the table too. The remainder of the ship’s company sat
politely in their seats while the seven students heaped up their plates with
roasted samgar and umgi stew.
Nodding
with approval at Zither and Zorig, the professor signaled them to let the
females go next. Illiakim and
Zeppa stood up eagerly and made their way to the table, followed by Shizwit who
saw this as the proper time for her to take her turn. Urlum had sat patiently with her brother and the other
technicians waiting eagerly for her chance. Only when the female team members had begun filling their
trays did Zorig and Zither and the remaining technicians move hungrily toward
the food. At that point, after Falon
gave a congenial nod, members of the ship’s crew converged in an orderly but
rapid step to the buffet table behind the last member of Arkru’s group. Falon, who sat with his officers at the
professor’s table, gave the seven impulsive students across the room a
disparaging smile. The professor
shook his head with disapproval at the students who rushed ahead of the others,
embarrassed that they hadn’t shown good form.
“They’re
behaving like dakkas today,” he quipped to Falon as the commander’s officers
stood up to join the line.
“By
Izmir, I’ve never seen your students move so fast!” The commander gave him a
playful nudge.
The
navigator Orix and the ship’s doctor Eglin laughed indulgently at the professor
and Falon’s observations, for no one could seriously blame the half starved
students for behaving as gluttons today.
Showing the greatest restraint of anybody, as was Revekian custom, the
professor and commander were the last crewmembers to load their plates. Even the cooks, who followed the engineers
and general crewmen, preceded the leaders of the ship. By the time the professor reached the
table, the main entries had disappeared entirely from the platters. A look of horror fell over his simian
face. His great mouth opened to
expose his long quivering tongue.
His large feline eyes seemed to bulge out of his wrinkly head. Wurbl, at Falon’s signal, rose up from
his tray and raced to the kitchen to fetch more samgar roast and umgi
stew. The sound of munching food
and slurping of beverages seemed deafening in the famished professor’s ears.
“I’m
as hungry as a dakka, myself,” he confessed as Wurbl returned apologetically
with more roast and stew and began heaping it generously onto the professor and
Falon’s trays. “The truth is,” he admitted to Falon, “I’ve never worked up such
an appetite.”
“That’s
why I ordered the cooks to make us a proper feast,” Falon replied, amused by
how much food the old professor had on his tray. “Our fat Wurbl enjoys eating,
so he will always make enough food for an army to eat!”
Falon,
Arkru, Orix, and Eglin sat down finally with their trays. Mugs of beer, brought hastily from the
kitchen, waited for them on the table.
Just as he had stuck his two fingers in Revekian fashion to scoop up a
mouthful of stew, a thought came to Eglin that stopped him cold.
“For
shame,” he said, looking sheepishly around the room. “I was so famished I
forgot to give the benediction.
You’d think that after such a morning, I could have at least given our
explorers a proper prayer!”
“Too
late, you have mouthful of food!” Orix teased in singsong voice as he lifted up
his mug.
“You’re
a wicked rascal, in deed!” Arkru chortled, shoveling in a mouthful of stew.
“Don’t
worry Doctor Eglin,” Falon laughed heartily, fingering a morsel of roast, “our
Celestial Father won’t mind!”
For
several moments, everyone ate heartily and, between mouthfuls of food,
exchanged small talk amongst themselves.
Abstractedly as he chewed his food, the professor listened to the
conversations in the room. The
adults, including himself, were growing tipsy on Revekian beer. Several of the students were talking to
the ship’s crew, almost drunk, themselves, with the heady reminiscing of
today’s events and fine food. The
old barriers were breaking down.
Shizwit, who had blossomed from a pale flower, herself today, was now
complaining to Rifkin about his bad manners. Rifkin, while boasting more quietly this time to Omrik and
Yorzl about his exploits on other worlds, stopped during Shizwit’s protest to
open his mouth and expose half chewed up food. This caused everyone around them, including the chief
engineer and first mate and their teams, to erupt in laughter. Rezwit, Grummel, Alafa, and Lumnal, who
were in high-spirits themselves, had already been chuckling at something Wurbl
had said. Suddenly, to the
professor’s dismay, everyone around Rifkin, including Rezwit’s team, began
imitating his revolting behavior, except poor Shizwit who looked with great
loathing at the group.
The
different personalities in the dining hall were typical of any festive occasion
and yet there was that added element of diversity that could not help, even
now, to grate on the professor’s nerves: Rifkin—always performing and always
attempting to be the center of the group. At
Zither’s table, the team leader displayed perfect manners for Illiakim and
Zeppa, while Vimml ate with undisciplined gusto in imitation of his old
friend. In the midst of the
technicians’ table Zorig was politely chiding Urlum about her behavior with
Rifkin, while Ibris and Tobit calmly conversed about today’s events with the
ship’s cooks nearby. Not everyone
lacked the proper manners and good form, the professor noted, as he licked his
fingers clean.
When
it appeared as if everyone had finished eating their meals, except the
corpulent Wurbl, who was still eating his third dessert, and the room had
settled into a soft, pleasant hum, Arkru stood up quietly, pulled a remote
control device from his jacket and pointed it randomly to a spot several feet
above the room. Those shipmates
unable to leave the vessel yet, who included all of Falon’s officers and crew,
were able to view, along with the actual participants in the adventure, the
students and technicians’ first trip into the forest. In response to where he pointed his controller, a
chronological video of today’s excursion flashed as holograms onto various
points above the tables—visual and audio data from Arkru’s hidden camera now
part of the database of the ship.
The
professor had always felt that the students and technicians should be able to
learn by their errors and laugh at the mistakes they made. Falon and his crew found this to be
great entertainment. It would,
however, prove to be a tactical blunder by the professor that he had forgotten
how negative and unflattering much of their actions had been. The overhead projection of themselves
pinpointed here and there, as life-like holograms, was not entertaining to many
of the students and technicians, who at times, appeared quite ridiculous in
front of their colleagues and Falon’s crew. From the moment the professor activated the small camera
inside the rim of his helmet, the scope of what he taped depended on where he
was directly facing at the time: a one hundred and eighty degree arc of
activity larger than his range of vision was presented to the audience
now. Such a camera range captured
virtually all of his students when he looked their way and a large segment of
the surrounding scene.
Unfortunately it also captured many things that even the professor had not
seen from the corner of his eye, including the misadventures of members of his
teams.
The
professor now randomly pointed his controller to the table where Wurbl and
Imyor, the cook’s assistant, sat.
A breathtaking panorama of the primeval forest caused everyone to gasp
as it appeared suddenly over their heads.
Across a narrow meadow that lead to an outcrop of igneous rock, they
were taken. The cooks, who sat beneath
the hologram, thought it was great sport to have their table used as a
stage. Tiny little holographic
images of squat armored creatures with club-like tales munching grass and
duckbilled monsters nipping leaves off of pines hovered above their heads as
the professor, always unseen in the video, led his group toward the rock.
Over
the bulbous helmet encasing the students’ baldheads, numerous flyers filled the
sky. In the horizon and over the
tops of tall trees a cinder cone poked out of the trees, emitting an ominous
trail of smoke, accenting the forbidding nature of the scene. Insects flew thickly over the grass and
crawled over the professor’s helmet, startling the audience in the room, as
they appeared as giant segmented monsters on tape. To everyone’s amusement, Wurbl and Imyor ducked their heads
under the table as a beetle walked across Arkru’s helmet and took flight.
Doctor
Arkru began his narration just as the great multicolored insect flew away.
“That
was but a minor monster you have witnessed in the forest,” he began, after
taking a long swig of beer. “Already you noticed our club-tailed and
scoop-mouthed friends and the varied assortment of flyers in the forest.” “Wait until you see this!” he
added dramatically, aiming the controller at the opposite corner of the room.
Rezwit,
Grummel, Alafa, and Lumnal clapped their hands with delight as the hologram now
hovered over their heads. Arkru
was slightly tipsy, Falon realized with amusement. His gestures were progressively more dramatic as was his
normally pompous voice, as Wurbl continued to refill his mug. The hologram was too small for the
audience to see the many reptilian, bird-like, and dark mammalian eyes looking
out of the surrounding forest at them as they passed through, so the professor
punched the zoom button on the controller until they could see what the
explorers had seen as they crossed the meadow. Zooming in on the video made these beasts appear much larger
than life. To the inebriated minds
of some of the crewmen, they loomed out in frightening variety and consistency.
“Great
celestial lights,” Eglin cried out candidly, “look at all those beasts peeking
out of the woods! What are they
Doctor Arkru? I’ve never seen such
a variety of monsters in one spot!”
“Well,
they’re a mixture of scaly and furry beasts,” the professor tried to explain.
“The segmented creatures you see crawling on our suits and swarming in the air
are similar to ones we encountered on Orm.”
“Wonderful! Magnificent! Unbelievable!” Dazl, Abwur, and Remgen cried.
The room was abuzz with superlatives. Everyone, even the students who
witnessed much of it first hand, had an opinion or observation about the images
hovering in the room. The truth
was, Arkru could scarcely explain the creatures, himself. He was seeing many things captured by
the camera his range of vision had missed. They were, as they had experienced on other worlds, learning
about Irignum’s life forms together, with nothing but Professor Arkru’s
previous knowledge to highlight what they could see.
“Yes-yes,
the good doctors on the Mother Ship won’t believe this,” First Mate Remgen was
muttering, quickly draining his mug. “Tell me, are they dangerous doctor? They look quite large to me.”
“Wait
Eglin and Remgen, you don’t understand the mechanics of this device.” He
pointed to his controller. “I’ve just zoomed in on some of these fellows. They’re not all big. Some of them,
such as those segmented, multi-legged fellows, are actually quite small.”
There
was so many people commenting this moment, no one could hear Arkru’s
explanation. Everyone in the
dining hall, in fact, were oohing and aahing so much that Falon rose up to
quieten his crew. Turning to his
students and technicians, Arkru did the same, a tipsy grin betraying his state
of mind.
As
he asked them to keep their voices down and raise their hands to speak, the
monstrous shadow of a flyer fell over Team Three. Alafa ducked her head this time, Lumnal clapped his hands
with glee, and Rezwit and Grummel whooped with delight, until once again, the
professor shushed them amiably into silence with his free hand. This time he was laughing
uncontrollably himself. Just for
effect, he moved the controller around to make it seem as if the creature was
flying around the room. An awed
silence, broken by the youngsters Zeppa and Yorzl squealing with delight, fell
over the audience as the hologram circled the room. The imagery in the hologram changed, as the flyer
disappeared into the forest, only to be replaced by something far more
frightening than anything coming before.
When it appeared that the excited babble had abated completely,
something utterly momentous appeared in the hologram over Team Two.
Leaving
the focus setting on zoom so they could make out its gargoyle head, Arkru
exclaimed, “Behold the king!” as the ruler of the forest displayed its hideous
head. Zither felt uncomfortable a
moment but laughed softly as Vimml, Illiakim, and Zeppa reached out as if to
pat the monster on its nose.
“A
leaper in the distance,” Arkru announced, as theatrically as possible, a
telltale slur in his voice. “This stopped me cold! Whoa! I mean to
tell you!… He-he, I knew I had to find shelter for the students, but I didn’t
want to alarm them, until the moment was right.”
“It’s
him again,” Dazl murmured to Remgen.
“Great
celestial ghosts!” The first mate nodded with awe.
“Yep, it’s him all right,” the professor pursed his
lips, looking quizzically at the scene.
“I dunno, on this bizarre world, it could be a her.” “Ha-ha-ha!”
he giggled, switching the hologram to Rifkin’s table and startling Shizwit half
of her wits.”
“What do we call your beast?” asked Remgen, smiling
at Falon across the room.
The professor took another long swig beer then wiped
his mouth with his sleeve. “Lemme see, what’d I name that beast?” He gave him a
blank look.
“Irufum rizolum!” Rifkin, Rezwit, and Alafa chimed
at the same time.
“Exactly!” Arkru bowed with respect. “Irufum rizolum, which is Ilderan, our
scientific language, for ‘leaping killer’ (hiccup!)…. I’m proud of you
children. I’ll make
scientists of you yet!” “….
Humph, I daresay.” He squinted, as if seeing the monster for the first time.
“That’s the biggest, ugliest killing machine I’ve ever seen!”
The room erupted in laughter, as he began making the
image dance around the room.
“Weeeeeee!” squealed Zeppa.
“Make it come back!” Yorzl whimpered, reaching out
as if to grab it in mid-air.
The audience clapped, as he turned the controller
upside down to make it look as if Irufum rizolum was standing on his head. Then, in the middle of the dining hall,
the image plunged suddenly to the floor as the professor’s arms dropped to his
side.
“Burrrrrrrp!”
He belched loudly, reaching for his mug. “Had too much beer… or not
enough.”
The
hologram flashed eerily on the floor as the controller dangled in his
hand. The audience responded
this time with a mixture of laughter and groans. Recalling the danger his students faced, the professor, as
the proverbial drunk crying in his beer, muttered huskily, “There’s a lot a
beauty on this planet; let’s not forget that…. There’s flowers growing
in the jungle like the herzols of Beskol, the veches of Orm, and those mumzies
my mother loved back home. I saw
fruit growing on Irignum’s trees and grasses like the ones once carpeting our world.” “But we can’t smell’em,” he informed his
audience sadly. “That’d poison us.
We don’t dare tast’em, either, for that would be toxic and turn our
blood green.” “.... We’re trapped
in our life support systems,” he added sadly, looking around the room. “In the
most incredible world we’ve ever seen, the animals and plants are as poisonous
to us as it’s air. The logistical
problem of building containments and transporting these monsters to other
planets would seem like a fools errand if it wasn’t for the sheer bounty of
this world!”
Sporadic clapping erupted in the dining hall but
also grumbling from the crew and more sighs and groans from the children, as
they waited for the show to resume.
“I
think the professor has had too much beer,” Falon whispered into Orix’s ear.
“I
fear sir, that you and I have had to much too,” Orix grinned sheepishly,
looking into his empty mug.
Unable
to stand without wobbling, the professor lowered himself into his chair. His inebriated mind now wandered as he
searched for his train of thought.
Eglin reached over and felt his pulse to make sure he was all right but
then smiled knowingly at Falon and Orix when he had verified that the good
doctor was drunk.
With less energy now, the professor muttered “Oh
yes, Irufum—the leaper,” raised the controller up with a limp wrist and
projected the hologram where it had left off. In the hologram playing over Team One’s table, which
caused the show-off Rifkin to stand up and punch at it comically with his
fists, all of his students came together in a frightened huddle except Rifkin,
himself. On the periphery of the
panorama, in the portion of the hologram that moved in front of Yorzl’s face,
Rifkin was seen pulling out his stunner and taking aim at something in a tree. In imitation of his team leader, Yorzl
reached out to the hologram and pretended he was punching the leaper too, when,
in fact, his tiny, holographic image revealed a terrified youngster clutching
Shizwit’s hand. While the others
stood by the professor for protection, Rifkin lagged behind them, aiming his deactivated
stunner at various trees. The
other members of Team One burst into laughter as the professor was heard
shouting to Rifkin “Put that in your belt! That’s not a toy!”
Many of the onlookers could not help applauding this young explorer, but
the professor wasn’t amused.
As
Rifkin sat in the dining hall with his team, he recalled with alarm that, while
Arkru’s back was turned this morning, he mimicked the professor after his
scolding. The action was almost
second nature for him. He had not
given it a second though until now.
As Arkru turned back to check his wayward pupil, however, the edge of
the one hundred and eighty degree panorama caught Rifkin on tape moving his
mouth wildly and gesturing dramatically as the professor often did, yet too late
to be caught in the Professor’s visual range. Although Rifkin had stopped just in time when they were face
to face, the camera had caught him in the act and betrayed him now to the
professor and everyone else in the room.
Again there was laughter but this time from everybody, except the
professor, himself. Rifkin was not
sure whether to stand up and take a bow or hide his head. The professor made his mind up for him
with a stern rebuke.
“So-ohhhh,”
his voice began slurring more distinctly after so much beer, “this is what you
do behind my back!”
“He
does it all the time,” Zither whispered into Illiakim’s ear.
“I-I,”
Rifkin started to stay.
“Uh
oh, he’s squirming now,” Remgen guffawed, slapping his knee.
“The
little blighter finally got caught!” Dazl crowed.
“Let’s
see that again,” Arkru snorted, pressing the rewind button on the controller.
“Impersonating the good ol’ professor, eh?… Humph, that was pretty good!”
After
seeing Rifkin mimic him again, the professor began laughing himself. Rifkin looked foolish now in the
hologram, his childish antics forever recorded into the database of the
ship. Urlum was the only one in
the room who did not display mirth in her eyes. Everyone else was laughing so hard that the professor once
again called order to the room.
This time, he sounded unmistakably drunk and could not rise up from his
chair.
Falon,
in high spirits, stood up and did the honors, pointing the controller this time
at his crew. Over the tables of
enginemen, mechanics, and various other specialists, he swung the beam
playfully back and forth.
Hobi, Jitso, and Gennep, the storeroom clerks, now clapped their hands
with delight as the beast made its rounds to them. Second Mate Imwep and Third Mate Kogin, who would both play
major roles themselves, roared with laughter, as it paused over their
heads. The contrast between the
terrified holographic image of Yorzl and the fearless Yorzl punching the
hologram with his little fists caused the greatest mirth. The panoramic hologram had, of course,
captured the gargoyle again lurking in the trees. This was, the professor neglected to explain, the
second time he saw the leaper and the point when he decided to take his group
to safer ground. The students,
Arkru recalled with a shudder, had not suspected that a monster was directly
ahead, but then he pulled out his scope, holding it shakily to his eye, and
true terror, not mere child-like fear, gripped everyone… everyone that is
except Rifkin. Once again, to the
audience’s amusement, the young explorer marched to a different drummer. This time he straggled behind the
others, playing with a dead bird.
“Put
that down!” the professor barked at Rifkin. “Stay with the group! All of you, that means you Rifkin, walk
hand-in-hand, two abreast.”
For
the fourth time during the hour, the audience broke into laughter at Rifkin’s
antics. Rifkin was
embarrassed but also relieved that the professor was too drunk to be properly
upset. The hologram, a real life
drama for onlookers, showed Doctor Arkru at his bravest, but, even as a small
luminous set of images hovering in the room, the alarm was evident in his voice
and the look on the simian face inside the bulbous helmet. The panic in the students and technicians
now sobered the audience and embarrassed many members of the group who appeared
as cowards to Falon’s crew.
Zither, in particular, looked utterly petrified in the hologram as he
was asked to accompany Rifkin up to the rock. It was Rifkin’s turn to snicker at his adversary, and he
looked across the room with a mixture of amusement and contempt. Falon, who, as Arkru, was having
difficulty standing up, handed the controller to Eglin. The professor frowned with dismay as
Eglin switched the scene back to Zither’s table, so the audience could compare
his terrified holographic expression with the real-life Zither squirming in
this chair. Again everyone
laughed, except Urlum who hid her eyes against Zither’s humiliation.
“Doctor
Eglin, ple-e-ease push fast forward!” Arkru pleaded feebly, tugging on his
sleeve.
Eglin
did as he was asked, but there was still several seconds left during this
interval for Zither to reveal his fear.
Not only did Rifkin present a heroic impression of himself for the
audience as he began his ascent, but Zither was shown at his worst as a
whimpering coward below the rock.
Several of the students, for that matter, including Urlum’s brother
Zorig, showed shades of cowardice as they followed Zither up the rock. Now, as the students began their
ascent, the audience watched Rezwit and his team upstage the other teams in the
group. Rezwit, Alafa, Grummel, and
Lumnal laughed delightedly when the hologram appeared once more over their
heads. Zither was relieved that
the subject had been changed, but Rifkin pounded his table in a jealous rage.
“Rezwit!”
the audience heard Arkru call out in the hologram. “You stay here with me to
guard the others. Your team did
the best on the target range. You
and Alafa walk behind the others with your guns and give them cover until we
reach the rock.”
Rifkin
was so beside himself with anger his teammates had to restrain him. Shizwit scolded him under her
breath. The vista at the summit,
which was given a long-winded and rambling narration by the professor, now
served to divert all their attention back to the expedition. A few members of the crew, who had been
drinking beer, actually fell asleep.
It was a testament to Doctor Arkru’s persistence and great fascination
for Irignum that he didn’t fall asleep, himself. The audience now had the opportunity to see the great herds
of three horns and then the battle between the leaper and spike-toes
commence. Unfortunately, the
scene, which the professor, students, and technicians remembered all too clearly
was too far away for Arkru’s camera to capture adequately. Once again, in command of the
controller, he attempted, on his wobbly legs, to zoom in on the scene, but this
time it was a blur of motion and muffled sounds.
“What’s
that supposed to be?” Dazl frowned. “Is that him again?”
“Yep,
that’s him all right and a bunch of smaller ones, Zorig nicknamed ‘spike toes.’
They’re too far away. The leaper
won. He’s the ruler—the king
(hiccup!)…. We had to use a scope to see it.” “Here,” he muttered, adjusting
the controller, “let’s find something we can see.”, “Professor,” Falon
commented, as the scene changed, “we couldn’t see it clearly, but that seemed
quite dangerous. It’s too bad it’s
out of focus. Couldn’t you get a
better shot?”
“Nope.”
Arkru replied, his eyes at half-mast.
“…. Saw it with the scope, but it was beyond camera’s range.” “These
shots are much better,” he added with a loud belch. “Ho-ho, look at my little
collectors.”
The
remainder of the presentation was anticlimactic after what they had seen, and
yet the audience, particularly Falon’s crew, sat in anticipation of more to
come. There were a few more laughs
as the students climbed shakily down from the rock and began plodding across
the meadow, but the only surprises for Falon’s crew were when the professor
designated Shizwit as Keeper of the Keys and shortly afterwards when the
students were ordered to shoot their guns wildly into the air. The fact that Shizwit was made Keeper
of the Keys merely generated more laughter from the audience. This term had been used by the Old Ones
to designate leaders with prophetic powers. Obviously the professor had forgotten they were being taped
when he promised her this. What
bothered many of Falon’s officers was seeing the professor order his students
to fire their weapons to let the aliens know they were here. This was done very irresponsibly, they
believed. Seeing the professor
scold them for firing on alien life seemed irrelevant to them. What bothered them was the wild and
reckless manner it was carried out.
To the veterans of the ship there was nothing wrong with such sport, but
it required the expertise and wisdom of adults.
“Great
Izmir!” Dazl pounded the table with his mug. “Let me go with them next
time! You need adults out there
commander, not these wet-behind-the-ear whelps!”
“As
a matter of fact,” Falon took the opportunity to announce, “the professor and I
have discussed the possibility of adults leading the students into the forest.”
“Well,
of course,” Arkru nodded dubiously, not sure who he said “of course” to, Dazl
going with them into the jungle or Falon’s insistence on using adults as
leaders of the teams.
Virtually
all of the students, who were too young to drink spirits, understood this error
in judgment immediately. Their
leader was intoxicated; he had just given Falon and Dazl permission to
interfere. They looked at each
other in unity now, wondering what they should say.
“I
think all of the ship’s crew should have a chance to go into the forest,” Orix
declared boldly. “I want to go on an expedition, myself!”
“Me
too!” Dazl and Remgen cried raising their mugs.
“No,”
Rifkin cried, jumping up from his chair, “part of our mission is learning to be
collectors. We must do this
ourselves, without any interference.
We don’t need your help!”
Since
Arkru was too tipsy to respond adequately, Zorig rose up benevolently as his
spokesmen. The commander gave him
a polite nod.
“In
all due respect sir,” he addressed Falon with a bow, “I think we should trust
our students. After all, they’re
qualified to use the stunner and are trained to set traps.”
“Only
a select few of the students are qualified to fire the stunner,” Orix corrected
Zorig. “On the other hand, all of us professionals are qualified to shoot. As far as the trap is concerned, it
hasn’t been tested in the forest, only in the meadow. Frankly, I think you’re rushing this matter. At least, for a few days, let
responsible adults go along on their trips.”
“No,”
cried Rifkin, “we are
responsible. We’ve collected on
other planets. Why can’t you trust
us now?”
“Because,”
Remgen snorted, slamming down his mug, “you whelps are too immature for such a
responsibility.” “Especially you!” He pointed accusingly at Rifkin. “After
watching how you behaved in the presentation, I can’t believe they would let
you carry a gun!”
“Our
guns require a key to arm them,” Zorig explained patiently, displaying one such
key to make his point. “Rifkin’s gun must be officially armed.”
“Nevertheless,”
Dazl challenged, scoffing at the key, “we just saw several of your students
shoot indiscriminately into the air.”
“That
was to clear a path,” Zorig replied, bristling under the chief engineer’s
stare. “They weren’t supposed to shoot at alien life. You noticed they were scolded promptly afterwards and only
Zither was allowed to test out the gun.”
Zither,
who didn’t think it was such a bad idea to have adults present on their
expeditions, had remained conspicuously silent until now.
“I
only did what I was told,” he explained softly. “All of the students, except
the youngsters, will eventually be certified to shoot.”
“No
offense Zither and Chief Technician Zorig,” Dazl replied condescendingly, “you
both seem to have level heads, yourselves, but I don’t believe mere children
should be trusted with those weapons in a place like this. Personally, I could care less how many
alien life forms you killed.
Against some of these beasts, however, those stunners might not be
enough. You need adult guidance. There’s a distinct possibility out
there that some of you might end up shooting each other!”
“We
don’t need adults!” Alafa shouted defiantly.
“We
can do it by ourselves!” spat Vimml, looking to Zither for support.
Zither
said nothing. He knew that the
officers were right. As Rifkin,
Alafa, Vimml, and Rezwit protested to their leader, Arkru groped through a
drunken fog, dimly aware that matters were getting out of hand. It was time for him to take control.
“Why
can’t you trust us?” Rezwit was asking, looking over to the inebriated
professor for support. “Doctor Arkru trusts us. Why can’t you?”
“Silence,
everyone!” Arkru waved his arms querulously in the air. “Tell’em what we
decided Zorig. Go ahead lad. You’re supposed to be my
second-in-command.”
Arkru’s
head was throbbing with pain. He
felt queasy after drinking so much beer.
“Plan? Oh yes the plan,” Zorig frowned,
annoyed by the professor’s condition.
To
his disappointment, Doctor Arkru, in spite of his fine words against imbibing,
had broken his own rule. He was
behaving like an old fool. Prodded
by the professor’s gaze, Zorig searched his memory for what he had been told
about this morning’s activities.
Once more, as he stood between two crosscurrents of opinion, he found
himself, as Zither, in sympathy with the officers of the ship. Based upon his experience on more
gentle worlds, the professor had decided to trust his students. This didn’t mean he could trust
them; it meant he wanted to.... And yet that wasn’t the problem, he
thought, glancing around at the students in the room. It was much more basic and obvious. Though many of them considered
themselves to be collectors, they were still children. Zorig was still a youth, himself. Several times—in both word and deed—the
professor expressed his doubts about them going out alone. This was Irignum, not Raethia, Beskol,
or Orm. It seemed obvious to
Commander Falon and his staff that Arkru was in a state of denial. This was plain to all of his
technicians too. He must rethink
his game plan, Zorig had pleaded this morning. The actions of the students now justified his fears. For all his good intentions, the
professor’s trust had been misplaced in students such as Rifkin and the
combative Alafa. He was taking too
much on faith!
With
these thought in mind, he blinked several times (a Revekian way of showing
embarrassment), muttered an apology and returned to his train of thought.
“Oh
yes,… I remember the plan.” He snapped his fingers. “According to Doctor Arkru,
there’ll only be limited expeditions tomorrow, closely monitored by the
professor and our commander. Our
students won’t go far into the jungle and will be in constant communication
with the ship. They’ll travel in
the three directions or zones we’ve selected. The three zones of collection, 1, 2 and 3, will correspond
to the western, northern, and eastern sectors of the jungle surrounding the
ship. At the first inkling of
trouble, all three teams will be called in. Each team leader will be responsible for training the older
students to use the stunner properly in the forest. Lumnal, Yorzl, and Zeppa are too young to be trained. We’ll be taking roll and keeping tabs
on team members at all times.”
“Very
good,” the professor mumbled, his chin dropping onto his chest.
By
now, the controller was held loosely in his hand and the holograms were
projected blurrily onto the floor.
Zorig took it out of Arkru’s hand and pressed the button twice. With that action, the projection
disappeared and the presentation ended.
Not used to seeing their professor inebriated, the students sat in
sleepy silence. After the presentation,
there was much to think about. A
low, barely audible murmur from students and crew followed, as Arkru plopped
down into his seat. Dazl, Remgen,
Imwep, and Kogin, who drank heavily themselves, stared slack-jawed at the
professor’s table. Falon was
the first to rise from his chair and exit the room. It was no secret that he was a critic of professor’s
plan. Orix, his second-in-command,
who was even more critical than the commander, followed him to the bridge. For the remainder of Falon’s staff,
though, friendly pats were given to Arkru’s back as they departed. To fill in this gap of silence, Remgen
told anyone listening a bawdy tale about the Old Ones sacking of the planet
Furzi. The story reminded everyone
why the Old Ones had been exiled to Lorg.
The veteran officer laughed foolishly when his story fell flat. With Dazl’s coaxing, he wobbled
cheerfully behind the engineer out of the room. Eglin, knowing he was in his cups too, motioned to his
assistant Varik to accompany him back to the infirmary. Second Mate Imwep, Third Mate Kogin,
and Communications Officer Abwur, who sat in various stages of drunken
comportment, took the cue from their fellow officers and likewise staggered
away.
The remainder of the crew, from the lowliest deck
hand to Wurbl, the cook, followed the example of the ship’s officers. One by one they departed, slowly, as
would earth-like zombies returning to their crypts. A faint ripple of laughter from the students and technicians
followed as this parade of drunken crewmen filed out. Hobi, Jitso and Gennep, the last members of the crew to
leave, turned and bowed to the students and technicians as they departed.
“And
they think I’m immature!” Rifkin spat
contemptuously as he watched them exit.
“This
is the first time since our discovery of advanced life on Raethia that adults
on this ship got this drunk,” Zorig commented to his team.
“It’s
disgraceful!” Urlum shook her head with dismay. “What kind of leaders do we
have?”
“Drunken
leaders,” Ibris observed with mirth as Arkru lie peacefully on his arms. “The
professor told me that drunkenness is forbidden by the Doctors of Science. Now, here on Irignum, even the
commander’s drunk!”
“The
professor’s smashed!” Tobit declared, chortling under his breath.
“We’ve
been in space too long,” Zither gave his own opinion quietly to Illiakim, who
was, herself, falling asleep. “If only we could return to Raethia or Beskol….
They were a safe distance from our solar system. We can breath their air and walk unharmed on their soil…”
“Yes…
Raethia and Beskol;” Illiakim murmured, her eyes opening at the thought “we
were safe and secure on those worlds.”
“I
wanna go home,” little Zeppa murmured from her twilight sleep. “.... Please let
me go home!”
When
the last member of Falon’s crew had departed, Zorig yawned expansively and
called out to the students and technicians in the room: “All right, it’s time
to leave. You students must rest up for the big day tomorrow. We technicians have lots to do!”
In
spite of being tipsy themselves, Wurbl and Imyor returned suddenly with
cleaning equipment and a cart.
Zorig was aware that the students and technicians, including himself,
were overstuffed and exhausted after today’s efforts. Within the last few moments his own team had dropped off one
by one. His first concern was
getting them on their feet, so they could help him get the professor out of the
room. Not one of them, including
the hyperactive Rifkin, were sitting straight and alert in their chairs. The cooks worked around them all for
the time being. As they began
dropping the dirty dishes from Arkru’s table into a cart, the professor, who
had been sound asleep, came suddenly alive.
“Way-da-minute! We gotta finish our preshentashun!” His
groggy voice rang out as Wurbl tried prying the mug out of his hand.
His
head was still lying limp on the table as Imyor continued to clear the table.
“It’s
all over,” Zorig informed Arkru gently. “Commander Falon’s crew has gone.”
“Aw
right, . . .we sheen enough,” the professor’s tongue rolled around thickly in
his mouth, his head rising slowly, as would a tortoise, from the table. “. . .
You peeble know the resh….We pudda poor lil’ fellow in a box and take him back
to the shib. Turn id off
Zorig. Theez children are gedding
cranky. Let’s all go take
ourshelves a lil’ nab!”
“Go
back to sleep Doctor Arkru,” teased Wurbl as he wrestled his mug free. “You’re
having a bad dream! The nightmare
comes tomorrow when you send your students into the forest!”
Ibris
was able to rouse himself in order to help Zorig drag the professor out of the
room. Urlum had been sound asleep,
but, after being nudged by Tobit, began helping Arkru too. All of the technicians then assisted
the stocky professor to his pod.
For a few moments, Vimml and Omrik remained lying on their arms, snoring
softly as were Zeppa, Yorzl, Lumnal, and almost everyone else in the dining
hall, including Rifkin, who had finally fallen asleep.
Doctor
Arkru now whispered something noisily into Zorig’s ear as Zorig and Ibris
lugged him across the floor.
“Oh
yes, thank you for reminding me professor,” the chief technician said amiably.
“For you team leaders,” he shouted less congenially over his shoulder as they
entered the corridor and headed toward officers’ quarters, “at breakfast the
professor will go over your expeditions tomorrow. Get some rest and clear you heads of its foolishness. You have serious business ahead of you;
there will be no more childish behavior out there tomorrow!”
“I
din’t shay thad,” Doctor Arkru protested feebly as the technicians guided him
to his pod. “.... I wan to thang them for wud they did today.”
“Those
were your thoughts professor,” Zorig cajoled him gently. “They know you
appreciate what they’ve done. The
important matter is for you to get some rest.”
Zither,
who was blurry-eyed and wobbly-legged, assisted Vimml as Illiakim helped Zeppa
out of her chair. Rezwit had three
team members to wake up now that Alafa had drifted off. Rifkin had to join forces with Shizwit
to help Omrik and little Yorzl to their feet.
It
had been a laborious day in their cumbersome life support systems. Irignum’s gravity on their delicate
bodies and the fatigue generated by having to breath from heavy canisters on
their backs, hiking across the jungle meadow, and climbing up the rock had
taken its toll on everyone, especially the professor who, on top of everything
else, had drunk too much beer. As
soon as the professor, his students, technicians and the relentless Rifkin had
tumbled into their sleeping pods and shut their eyes, they were falling into a
deep, exhausted slumber, their minds swimming with the sights and sounds
experienced today.