Steph Bennion - Paw-Prints of the Gods

“We have enough fuel to take us a good way round the planet,” she began. “There’s also sufficient oxygen aboard to maintain life support for at least two weeks. However, the food situation is not good. We have plenty of water, but only enough ration packs for two, maybe four days if we’re careful. That’s Earth days,” she clarified.

“Fwack fwack!”

“Where are we going?” Artorius asked. “Are you taking me home?”

“I will do my best to get you somewhere safe,” she reassured him. “But the only place I know is the excavation. Even if we ran non-stop, it would take five or six days to get there. The satellite chart shows another outpost two days north-west of here, but I have no idea if it is still in use, or if we can expect to find supplies there. Assuming we agree we don’t want to risk starving to death in the desert, we seem to have just one option.”

“Thraak?”

“We go back to the dome. We break in, grab supplies and then head for the dig.”

“No way!” cried Artorius. “I am not going back there!”

“We don’t have a lot of choice! Besides, you still haven’t told me why you were kept locked up like that. For all I know I might be harbouring a ten-year-old criminal mastermind!”

“I’m eight,” the boy retorted.

“So what’s your story?”

“The nurses said I was evil,” Artorius said sullenly. “They tried to teach me about the greys and their church but I kept getting it wrong. They said I was supposed to be king of a game but I was not behaving like one.”

“What?” Ravana stared at him. “That’s no way to talk to a little boy!”

“Thraak,” agreed Nana.

“I played with Nana and Stripy and talked to them so the translator could be made better,” Artorius said stubbornly. “The nurses said I was special because Nana and Stripy liked me but I was also very bad because I asked too many questions. They said the greys would one day save everyone and the people of their church were the chosen ones.”

“Fwack?” asked Stripy.

The boy scratched his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. He looked confused, as if the question had never occurred to him before. “I think they chose themselves.”

“But it’s good to ask questions,” Ravana protested. “That’s how you learn things.”

“They said everything I need to know is in their book.”

Ravana sighed. Her previous dealings with the Dhusarian Church had not left a good impression. Artorius’ curious remark about being a king also rested uneasily upon her mind. The priest Taranis had once said something very similar to herself.

“Why did they think you were a king?” she asked.

“There’s a rhyme they made me learn,” Artorius replied, then unexpectedly began to recite a verse in a high-pitched halting monotone:

“I think you need to look up the definition of ‘rhyme’,” mused Ravana, though her mind was elsewhere. “Those lines are from the Dhusarian Isa-Sastra . I wonder…”

Artorius looked at her oddly. “Why were you there?”

“At the dome?” she asked and sighed. “I was at Arallu Depot with the others, getting ready to travel back to the dig. I’d just spoken to my father, then went to fetch a drink and was surprised to find someone else at the depot with us. Everything after that is pretty much a blank. The medication the nurses gave me did strange things to my memory.”

“Did they also give you that yucky scar?”

“No!” Ravana retorted, defensively touching her cheek.

“Thraak,” Nana said sadly. “Thraak thraak.”

Ravana shuddered. Her implant had brought up a fleeting vision of the twelve clones standing around the fallen Fenris. Artorius looked at her with a most curious and almost awe-struck expression. She wondered what his own translator had shown when there were no relevant memories for it to draw upon inside the boy’s head.

“Lizard men!” he murmured.

“Half-human, half-alien cyberclones,” she corrected. “I saw them being born. Maybe that’s what they wanted me to forget.”

“Fwack fwack?”

“I don’t know why. Everyone in Newbrum must know the story by now so it can’t be to keep their existence a secret. Besides, I’d never have known they were here if they hadn’t whisked me away to their lair. None of it makes any sense.”

“They looked horrible,” Artorius muttered.

“Fwack,” agreed Stripy. “Fwack fwack fwack!”

“You’re getting very chatty,” remarked Ravana. “Anyway, we’re getting off the point. We need to make a move. I don’t really want to return to that place, but can’t think of any realistic alternative. We’ll sneak in, steal loads of food and then head for Arallu. With any luck we’ll be on our way again before they realise we’re back. What do you think?”

Artorius fell silent, his face creased in annoyance.

“Artorius?”

“I’m not going!” he retorted.

Ravana gave him a stern look. “It’s the only sensible thing to do,” she said.

“No!” he cried. “Please don’t take me there. I hate them!”

She was quite taken aback at how upset he looked. Whatever it was the nurses had put him through at the dome had obviously left its mark. The greys shifted uneasily upon the bench, sensing the tension.

“There is another option,” she suggested hesitantly. “As I said, there’s a base a couple of days drive from here. We may find supplies, but it could just as well be an abandoned settlement or an unmanned research station.”

“I want to go there,” declared Artorius, his face brightening.

Ravana paused. “On one condition,” she added. “If we have no luck finding supplies, we turn around and head to the Dhusarians’ dome. Agreed?”

“Thraak.”

“Fwack.”

“Artorius?”

“I guess so,” he mumbled.

“Excellent!” said Ravana. “We have a plan!”

Now they were moving again Ravana immersed herself in the journey. The vehicle’s automatic pilot still would not engage, but she was happy to drive the transport manually, comforted by the feeling of being in control. They were a long way from the only road and she had to constantly peer ahead into the dark and concentrate on picking a safe route through the rocks and shifting sands. Behind her, Artorius was teaching Stripy a game which largely involved slapping each other. Nana looked on like an elderly aunt.

“Hey,” called Ravana, beckoning to the older grey. “Tell me about your home world.”

“Thraak?”

“Of course I’m interested!”

“Thraak thraak.”

“Yes, well up until now it has not been a good time!” retorted Ravana. “That star you pointed to earlier? I looked at the charts and I’m sure it was Procyon. I happen to know that no large planets have been found in that system.”

“Thraak thraak,” said Nana. “Thraak thraak thraak.”

“I didn’t understand a word of that. Can I have a clue?”

“Thraak thraak!”

“A moon, planet, space station?” asked Ravana. “How many syllables?”

“Thraak!”

“Fwack fwack,” added Stripy. The grey waved its arms in a bizarre mime.

“Is that some sort of vegetable? Or mineral?”

“Fwack fwack fwack!”

“Thraak thraak!”

Ravana shook her head irritably. The images generated by the translator made no sense and her thoughts reeled beneath the weight of a jungle-like entity writhing on the edge of her comprehension. In part she was reminded of the twisting light show of an extra-dimensional jump, the split-second visual rollercoaster that once witnessed from an interstellar spacecraft remained engraved upon a mind forever. The picture conjured up by Nana’s utterances felt more organic but somehow unconstrained by time or space.