“Wow,” she murmured. “That’s incredible!”
“Fwack fwack!”
“How did anyone manage to come up with something like this?”
Artorius shrugged, not seeming to care.
“But I could understand them! Stripy wants something to eat!”
“Thraak thraak,” added Nana.
“And Nana hates mushrooms!”
“Thraak thraak!” Nana repeated firmly.
“Well, if you don’t like them, it’ll have to be the nut roast again.”
The images created by the implant translator left Ravana feeling dizzy. The greys were more human-like by the minute and she was having to constantly revise her preconceptions of the mysterious creatures. Still somewhat dazed following the translator revelation, she turned up the interior lights and left her seat to fetch a selection of rations from the overhead locker. Artorius finished eating and hopped into the vacated driver’s chair to examine for himself the navigation computer display. It was not lost on Ravana that he still had not told her why he had been at the dome, locked in a cell.
“Breakfast,” she said, handing a couple of ration packs to Nana and Stripy.
She still had a million questions to put to Artorius, not to mention the greys, but had awoken from her slumber feeling distinctly grubby. She could not remember the last time she had a bath, her hair felt disgusting and she was very conscious of how bad she smelt. During her earlier trip to the toilet she discovered the transport had a shower cubicle and she was looking forward to a long soak.
“Where are you going?” asked Artorius, as she retreated to the end of the cabin.
“I need to wash that place out of my hair,” she replied. “Then we talk.”
An hour later, Ravana felt refreshed and ready to face the world once more. She took great pleasure in discarding the clinic’s green smock into the waste disposal unit and now wore a pair of the tatty but clean overalls and a pair of boots she had found in the locker, her damp hair wrapped in a towel from the shower room. She persuaded Artorius to use the shower in turn, during which she took the opportunity to study the navigation charts further over a bite to eat as she tried to come up with a plan of action.
The scanner had once again picked up a signal on the edge of its range. The satellite identified it as belonging to some sort of vehicle, though whoever rode inside appeared to be in no hurry to come closer. Switching on the transport’s short-range communicator gave only the hiss of static, adding to the overall sense of isolation.
Once Artorius finished in the shower, Ravana gathered them together in the rear of the transport, herself on the opposite bench seat to the others. Artorius looked quite comical in a pair of adult-sized overalls with the sleeves and legs rolled up.
“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?”