| Why am I here? What a silly question! I scold myself.
I am here because...to serve the terra lord and all terrans in our
never-ending feud against the praldins. I, feeling a sense of duty
and honour, took it upon myself to infiltrate the enemy. I will not
fail terra. I will gather what information I can and send it back to
earth. They think they can defeat the praldins by building more and
more powerful weapons; but I know that the greatest weapon is
knowledge of your enemy. They don't seem to realise this. I'll
probably get into trouble for taking this action, but if it helps
the terrans then I don't care.But is that the only reason I am here?
Well of course it is: the praldins are savage; they rule their
people by fear; they enjoy blood and death. If they catch me they
will kill me...or worse. If I’m not doing this to help my lord and
kin why else would I be here? Stop thinking like this! Why am I
asking such silly questions?
But there is another reason. I needed to
see for myself. I have... doubts.
The very fact I am thinking this tells me a lot has changed since
I left terra. Then I would never have dared think such a thought...
have the praldins got some kind of mind control? Are they feeding
these thoughts into my head?
The alarms in my ship have all gone silent now. There is no power
left. As I came down through the atmosphere I deliberately
overloaded some of the power relays, blowing off a section of the
protective covering. The ship now lay smouldering on the wiry
'grass' of this planet where I know praldins live. Altogether I make
a pretty convincing ship wreck. They'll be here soon. They won't
have missed my descent.
I see them now; the first few of them have topped the rise. It's
strange, but what strikes me the most is that they seem so...
ordinary. Of course I knew they were human, we have not yet come
across any other race. But still, I expected them to be...different.
They are coming closer now. I begin to feel the first bits of panic.
I just rushed into this. I didn't think it through. What was I to
tell them? Should I plead with them to spare my life? Say that the
rift generator was faulty and took me to the wrong place? But from
everything I've grown up knowing about the praldins, they are not
reasonable people.
Maybe I should say I'm running from the terrans... I've done some
horrible crime and they are after me and I want to seek alliance
with them. Maybe I could offer them information?
Oh Eric you idiot, idiot, idiot. Why'd I have to do this? I
should have made a plan. I should have thought it through. The
praldins have reached my ship now; I haven't got much longer. One of
them’s at the door. He's opening it... what's that smell? It'
smells like... it smells... it...
*
I feel my senses returning. I feel warmth...I'm in a bed. I can
see light behind my eyelids and it's painful. I hear unfamiliar
sounds, like hammer against steel, and the sound of voices.
I remember... oh my god, I remember now. What was I to do? I am
still alive; my body hurts too much for it to be otherwise, that's a
good thing. Immediately after thinking this thought I doubt it. I
have heard so much about the praldins; it's better to die first than
become their prisoner. All over the news is stories of how savagely
they treat their captives that they soon whish they were dead.
But I am lying in a bed. I am warm. This cannot be the doings of
the praldins. Maybe I have been rescued.
I open my eyes. I see above me the canvas of a tent flapping
gently as in a breeze. This was no terran base.
I take a deep breath. The air that fills my lungs has a sharp
bite to it, like the sting of a wasp, and smells of dust. I must
organise myself, make a plan, and know what to say. The very reason
I have come here is to serve my kin; I must not let them down by
allowing my fear to cloud my thoughts.
Why have the voices stopped? Where have they gone? I need to see
more of where I am. It is such a small tent, and there are no bars.
Surely there must be guards on the entrance, but I can't see them.
It would be quite simple to make a dash out of the tent. Should I do
that? Maybe that's what they are expecting me to do. Ouch! What was
that? There’s something on my finger. It looks like a spring
that's been coiled round it. What is it? I can't get it off. Is it
some sort of torture devise?
Oh no, I hear footsteps. I should make a
run for it now...or maybe I shouldn't, maybe I should give the
impression that I am not brave enough to make a run for it. Anyway,
it's too late they have entered the tent.
"Gritcha terran." His voice grated on me like
fingernails down a blackboard. What was he going to do? Would he
torture me to get information out of me? Probably they'll torture me
anyway; that's what they enjoy doing, the damn animals.
"I won't tell you nothing."
"I really don't care." Replied the praldin. “You're
ship is being dismantled and the data downloaded as we speak. Then
we shall fix it and re-assemble it, at which point you may leave. In
the meantime you can be our guest or our prisoner, whichever you
prefer to think."
So, the scavengers made no secret of their
intentions to learn all they can from me. My teeth clench together
so tight my jaw aches. As if they were going to let me go. Did they
expect me to believe that? The praldin's gone again. How long will I
have to wait in this god-forsaken place? Who's bright idea was this
anyway? Eric, how stupid can you be?
*
I glance out of the tent opening, but am unable to make sense of
what I see. The whole settlement seems to be comprised solely of
tents. I don't understand; where is all the technology they have?
They all wear modern space suits, and here and there I can see
grounded praldin ships. Why would they wear suits if they were on
the ground? That didn't make sense. They don't act the way I expect
them to either. There is no madness in their eyes, no cruelty
towards their kin, or even to me.
The first time I was given food I refused to eat it, thinking
they would be trying to drug or poison me, but then I reasoned that
if they wanted to do that they wouldn't need to be surreptitious
about it, so I decided to eat the food. The reason was not simply
because I got too hungry, I could have gone on much longer without
food! I most certainly could have done.
Another thing that has occupied my mind over the last day is
figuring out a means of escape. Dashing out of the tent would be as
senseless as the faked crash that had landed me on this dry planet.
This time I would plan ahead! But even though I have played out my
plan in my mind over and over so many times that it drives me mad, I
cannot bring myself to risk it. I tell myself that I need to wait;
the opportune moment will come. But I can no longer deny to myself
that I am afraid. Afraid of what they will do to me, afraid of what
they are going to do to me anyway.
And that's something else that is positioned beyond me copious
realm of comprehension. Why have they not tried to torture me, beat
me, force information, or just screams of pain, out of me to satisfy
themselves. Why do they put me in a warm bed and bring me food? Is
this some sort of massive deception? Are they trying to give me a
false impression of them, make me think they aren't what I have
always believed them to be? Well, such tactics won't work; I am
cleverer than that... but why? For what reason could they possibly
want to deceive me in such a way? What good would it do them?
*
It is barely 24 hours since I woke up. I can tell that for they
have left me with my watch, even though this planet seems to turn
faster. Once again the praldin with his terrible voice and few words
strides into my bar-less prison. He looks at me with those bright
blue eyes, cloaked in an intimidating black. But he can’t
intimidate me that easily, I am stronger than that. Then why am I
cowering? No, I am not cowering; I am pretending to cower.
“Come.”
That was all he said, before he walked from the tent again, and
although his voice hadn’t changed, it sent shivers of dread into
my heart. I will not obey him. I will be difficult. They will see
that I am not so weak as to follow their every order. Even though my
hands shake and my stomach squirms, I gather all the rags willpower
and bravery, which I once thought I owned in great abundance, and
stopped where I was.
Very slowly, like a ship turning to set its
course into battle, the praldin pivoted on the spot to face me. I
glare at him, but I cannot keep the fear from my eyes. The look on
his face, however, is not one of anger, or mockery, but merely
annoyance. He is holding something in his hand, I cannot tell what
it is but it seems to have a red button on it. He’s pressing it,
what does it…I gasp. The pain. It seems to flow outward through
the coil of wire on my finger. It courses right through my body. No.
It is too much, make it stop, oh god make it stop…I realise I am
kneeling on the floor as the pain subsides and my breath comes in
short pants. So I had been right, the spring was a torture device,
and they were going to torture me after all. The satisfaction I
might feel in being right, however, couldn’t be further from my
mind.“Rise” the grating voice said. It wasn’t in a commanding
tone, nor a threatening one; but the memory of the pain was sharp
enough to ensure that thoughts of disobeying were quickly crushed.
Once again the black praldin turned to leave the tent, and
this time I could do nothing but follow; the last remaining rags of
willpower shredded.
I keep my eyes down on rocky ground. Where will they take me?
What will they do to me? Why was I so stupid as to land myself in
this ridiculous situation?
I had done it because I thought I could help my kin in their
costly feud with the praldins. I raise my eyes and stand up slightly
straighter. I did this out of honour and duty; I have nothing to be
ashamed of. But I am afraid, that is what I am ashamed of. I should
be doing what I set out to do: gathering information, sending it
back to earth. How could I achieve that target now? There was no
way. They had me more tightly under their control than chains ever
could.
Earth-coloured tents pass by on either side of me. Praldins
bustle through the streets created by the gaps in the tents. They
seem too human, I cannot imagine any of these people committing the
murderous acts the praldins are famous for. Yet, despite the tents,
they are obviously far from primitive. In the distance I can see
massive fields of some kind of crop, and even as I watch a big
tanker descends from the red sky and sprays the dry earth with water
from another planet. This doesn’t make sense to me. What is going
on?
My ship! I can see my ship. That’s where they are taking me.
This could be my chance. If only I can get onto my ship I can
escape, but how can I do that without the praldin pressing his evil
button. We stop beside my ship. The door is open, and there is no
trace of the damage I had caused to happen to it.
“You may leave.”
What? What did he mean by that? Where is he going? Surely he can’t
be letting me go. Where’s the torture, the cruelty, the violence?
Hey, Eric, stop thinking like that! If he’s going to let you go
the last thing you should do is argue about it. I follow my own
advice and quickly dash up through the open door. This is my
element, I feel more confident behind the controls, and for the
first time since the crash I feel like I know what to do.
Powering up….
Damn, why does it have to take such a long time? Come on you stupid
machine, before he changes his mind. Maybe he’s going to watch me
run away, then shoot me down. But why would he do that? If he wants
me dead he might as well have already killed me. Oh, come on, it
never takes this long. Maybe chasing me down and blasting me out of
the sky was more amusing to them. Ah, finally! Now then! Releasing
crystal hoods. Directing power to the engines. Come on, come on,
there now, we have lift. Up up up! It’s working, I am leaving a
praldin planet unharmed! The control panel on my right lights up:
Co-ordinates entered…rift forming… rift opened… any time now
they’re going to come after me, but no… I’m in the rift.
I had
better contact earth: I have to tell somebody. What’s wrong with
the radio? I’m not getting a signal. Damn it’s not working; the
praldin’s must have cut it. But I’m coming to the end of the
rift now; I’ll be home soon.
*
I've made it! I am still alive! Why am I still alive? I laugh at
myself madly. I'm alive because, against all the odds, my courage
and bravery has withstood the cruelty of the praldins and I have
used all my cunning to escape and bring back to the terrans all I
have learnt. They will see that I am a hero! Yes they will... but
it's not true. I cannot lie, even to them, even to get all the
medals in the world. I was a coward. I acted without thinking. They
had let me go.
But why? That is the question that confronts me, and the answer
seems as distant as the interminable depths of space that even the
bravest explorer hasn't yet reached.
I had gone there so that my doubts could be burned away, but
instead it had only provided nourishment to let them grow. Could it
be true what I had seen? For it to be so would mean that everything
I once knew about the praldins, everything I, and everyone else I
knew had grown up knowing, was false. That cannot be so, that cannot
be true.
But what other explanation in there? If only I could think of one
I would believe it but I am unable to create a reason to believe.
Now I am back home, back to the sparkling planet earth, the
nucleus of the terran empire. This is where I belong. What's that?
There's something in the cargo hold. It's round like a football but
made of that black metal. I've seen something like this before but I
can't remember where. It's got numbers on...
-00:12-
Surely it can't be... but what else could it be? I feel panic
rising within me but I must keep it down, I must think straight
-00:11-
There is no doubt about it, it's a praldin shatter bomb,
something this big much have enough explosive in it to take... to
blow up the whole damn city!
-00:10-
What am I going to do? What can I do? I can't disarm bombs! I
haven't a clue. This can't be happening.
-00:09-
I must be imagining it; this must be a dream, a nightmare. This
is not happening to me... the radio; I must get in touch with
command.
-00:08-
But the radio's broken isn't it? I can't take off from the
landing pad again. There isn't enough time. Why must this happen to
me?
-00:07-
No, Eric you mustn’t panic, you must think, think dammit. I
need to get into the bomb. There is a crack where the two halves of
the sphere are joined, If only I can...
-00:06-
My god, it looks like spaghetti! How can I possibly know how to
sort out this mess, there isn't enough time!
-00:05-
There has to be enough time, it just takes one wire to set the
bomb off, and that’s what I must cut. Ha! As if it was ever that
simple!
-00:04-
Let me think, what do I know about bombs? That wire, the red one,
is connected to the shell. That's why the shell sparkles! It's got
luminec crystals in it. Oh it's so simple.
-00:03-
That’s the wire I must cut. I just need to get my knife
in...Make sure I don't cut the other wires; I mustn't do that.
Nearly got it... there. The timer's stopped.
-00:02-
I sigh in relief; it all makes sense now. All of it. The
praldin's are what I have always known them to be. The relief I feel
at being able to believe once again is immense. Now I can be called
a hero, I can leave here and tell everyone...
-00:01-
What was that? It came from the lockers. Oh my god! There’s
another one. Another bomb. This can't be. And there... behind it
there's more. Oh god help me there's enough shatter bombs here to...
to...
-00:00
No! |
