Nick sat in one of the unused chairs on one side of the bridge, and watched Petra's skill with the local language creep upward. I wonder... Nick started typing on his tablet.
Petra, is there anything you can build that would make you faster at learning languages?
< Yes, Nick. >
Nick waited, then grinned, shook his head, and typed, What device would help you learn languages faster?
< A language processor. >
Show the specs, please.
Petra called up a build nu, and Nick started checking them over. Oh, this one looks like the brick that made Petra smarter! Her backup brain, when she got damaged. Apparently, it was a different design but the sa general concept. He furrowed his brow.
I...probably should have been building more of those, shouldn't I? Nick thought with a wince, feeling stupid. If I'm a dumbass in a forest and nobody hears it, am I still a dumbass?
He thought back. To be fair, I think I did think of this, but it was right before one of the tis sobody tried to kill , and it slipped my mind after.
Trying to be subtle, Nick called up the materials list and compared to their supplies. Hm, not enough elents 62 and 70. That's my excuse, if anybody asks. Good thing I'm surrounded by aliens who don't know how to interpret subtle human facial expressions.
"Nick? Sothing wrong?" Dr. Vickall asked.
God hates .
He took a breath and accepted his fate. "Just another thing I should have done sooner," he admitted. "I wonder if we could trade for so elents while we're here."
"That maybe needs more ti. Food, maybe they have a lot now."
Nick nodded. Then a random thought crossed his mind. "Doc, I keep forgetting to ask. Are any of your worlds—the Goldaskian ones—nad Hell by any chance?" Petra beeped to warn him that she couldn't fully translate that, but the doctor was already shaking her head.
"No. Our worlds are nad Abaddon, Calabax, Vishnak, Bovathis, Dardwan, Pohlee, Tord, and Malachy." The doctor paused. "Why? Is 'Hell' part of your stories about people that look like us?"
"Yeah." Nick shrugged. "Oh, well, it was just a thought." He looked the alien up and down, observing her bright red skin and black horns. "Funny coincidence, though."
"It's certainly possible that one of our ships stopped at your world at so point." The dic did one of her half-shrugs. "We could ask a—" Petra beeped a mont later and she tried again. "A person who looks at old people and old places."
"Historian," Nick supplied.
"Yes. We could ask a historian."
"Captain," Massik called. Nick and Sana stopped talking to listen.
"Yes, Massik?"
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"I think they see us."
Geh!aoa leaned forward. "How do you know?"
"Um...radio back and forth."
"Have we been sending ssages to them?" the Captain asked in surprise.
"No, no..." Massik looked at a loss to explain.
Nick had a guess, so he jumped in. "Radar?" He started making gestures, trying to be clearer. "Um, Captain, they send out radio wave, radio hits tal, radio reflects—goes back. They listen for the echo, the reflection. My people find ships that way." He looked at the doctor. "The ship is made of tal, right?" Sana nodded.
"Ah. That is clever. Thank you." Nick was pretty sure that the Ooafan felt more comfortable with advanced technology if Earth had it too, not just the Goldaskians. Maybe because she guessed the fuakalas were not so far away from inventing it for themselves, so it felt more understandable.
Geh!aoa turned to them and asked, "Sana and Ni!keh, will you co here? I want them to see you and when I speak to them."
"Uh, sure." Nick looked at the ship's doctor, who nodded.
"That is smart. Yes, Captain," she agreed. They both got up from their seats. "Nick, maybe you have food and water, you show them?"
Nick had taken to wearing his windbreaker again, since the Kalash-Quovo was colder than he had kept Petra's dungeon. Checking his pockets, he found a snack bar and a small, clear Goldaskian water bottle. "Got it." He noticed a few other props soone had brought to the bridge in anticipation of trying to communicate with the natives.
Captain Geh!aoa was looking over a list of vocabulary words Petra had learned in the local language, and composing a short ssage. He leaned a bit closer to watch her work; she was really quick. She's smart and she knows what she wants to say.
A beeping alert started sounding from Massik's station. Nick watched her lean forward for a mont, then her head snapped up and she shouted sothing in Goldaskian that didn't translate. Pilot Yulliksu had a short, yelled conversation with her.
"What is happening?" the Captain demanded.
Massik showed her teeth and waved her hands vaguely a mont, before trying, "small fast weapons co!"
"Missiles," Nick declared, and Geh!aoa stated the Kthufu equivalent. Nick heard the soft beep that indicated that Petra had added the words to her vocabulary.
"Captain!" Yulliksu called loudly in a strained voice. "We do not fight good now! I want to move ship side, side! Please!"
"Yes! Do it!" the Captain ordered quickly.
"Evasive action," Nick muttered. Yulliksu worked his controls and the view on the main screen shifted, shifted again.
"Sixteen seconds...twelve seconds...eight seconds..." Mallik called out, with Petra converting the numbers. Nick felt the rumble as the ship's main engines changed their pitch, and the image moved more quickly.
"Four seconds...Now!" The view on the screen flickered and went out. Nick braced himself, but didn't feel the ship shake from anything that felt like an impact.
In a calr voice, Mallik announced, "heavy tal weapons used. We have no damage. Good work, Gev." The pilot nodded.
"Can we stop here? Will more missiles co?" Geh!aoa asked.
"If more missiles co, we will see thirty-two seconds," Mallik reported.
"I can move us then," Yulliksu declared.
"Very good. Stop here. We will use radio. Petra, I will send ssage to them." Geh!aoa looked down at herself and brushed at her clothing a mont, then took a deep breath. "Petra, begin sending now." She straightened up and looked forward, then started speaking with a slow, even tone, allowing ti for Petra to give the translations. Nick looked forward as well, hoping that the cara wasn't off to the side sowhere.
"Hello...I...am...Captain Geh!aoa. We... do not want...fight. We...want...say...hello. We...want...trade."
The sounds Petra was making were barks, growls and yips, but they sounded jerky, stiff. Nick was reminded of Petra's early attempts at speaking English by splicing together audio clips. She must be doing the sa thing now, with their transmissions. She's got a lot more material to work with this ti.
"We...learn...you language...slow.
"We...co...big...fast...I am sorry...we...stop...now. You say...we co...you say no...we...do not co.
"We...want...food. We want big food, fast. We have..." Geh!aoa held up a silver coin. "Forty-seven. We have..." She switched coins, and held up a gold one. "Seventy-nine. We have...more.
"We...go..." Geh!aoa took a mont to scroll rapidly, looking for words. "We...go...Ooafa...here. We get food. We go here...Ooafa. We give food Ooafa...we go here...we talk... you.
"You...do not talk...we go. We want food. We want big food, fast. Ooafa...sun...is...bad. Food...die. People...die. We want food. Please.
"We...stay...and...wait...here. We listen...you...radio. We...learn...you language.
"Please talk. Please ask. We want...you...good. We want...we...good. Please talk...fast. Ooafa...people die. Thank you."
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