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“What is ‘scape-paahd’?” R’jaal asks.
“An escape pod is a craft designed for emergency evacuation in case of a disaster. With an escape pod, up to four users can be comfortably brought to safety once detached from the ailing primary vessel. I have additional bunks that can be unfolded from the ceiling upon request. Shall I deploy those now?”
“No.” R’jaal shakes his head. “Where is your ailing vessel?”
“I do not know. I have lost contact with Se Kilahi. Many of my systems were corrupted during impact. In addition, my environmentals have been compromised. This craft is no longer travel-worthy.”
“Why not?”
“Unknown error,” it replies cheerfully. “Would you like to shut down all systems and refresh?”
I shake my head quickly. “Ask how it got here. Ask how long it’s been here.”
R’jaal repeats my questions.
“Unknown error. Would you like to shut down all systems and refresh?”
“No,” R’jaal states. Then a look of recognition crosses his face. “The ship you came here with. Did you come to a world with two suns and two moons?”
“Affirmative. Kopan VI has two satellite moons and orbits a binary star.”
“Did you come here on this ship?” I ask R’jaal, confused.
He shakes his head. “No, but the ancestors did, many, many generations ago. I have seen their flying cave. I have been inside it.”
Noj’me, who has been silent up until this point, gasps in wonder. “You have? Can…I see?”
“It is several days travel from…” He pauses. “Wherever we are. Above ground.”
Then it’s not the ship that brought me if it’s been here for generations. It never occurred to me that there would be multiple spaceships landing here. Is this place—this planet, Kopan VI—a ship graveyard of some kind? That’s disturbing. “Ask it how we get home, R’jaal.”
He nods at me. “How far are we from the surface, oracle?”
“My calculations show that straight up, you are less than twenty naer from the surface.”
R’jaal looks momentarily frustrated. “Are we close?”
“I do not understand ‘close.’ Please elaborate.”
“How do we leave this place? These tunnels?”
“Query: are you requesting a map of the underground warrens inhabited by the natives? I have lost the capability to both print and project images.”
R’jaal hesitates, looking to me. “I do not understand its words…”
I shake my head at R’jaal. “I know. I think it’s limited it what it can tell us. It’s a tool, but nothing more. It might not be able to tell us anything useful.”
He narrows his eyes, frowning up at the broken screens. “How many of them are there? The natives?”
“Query: Do you wish to know the number of natives heading in this direction or in the main settlement?”
R’jaal immediately sits up. “There are others in the tunnels?”
“My sensors indicate additional life-forms are heading in this direction, yes.”
“How do you know they are more natives?”
“I do not,” the pod says brightly.
Noj’me steps forward. “Oracle…speaks riddles, yes? Words no sense.” She shakes a hand near her ear, as if indicating confusion. “Many words, few yes.”
I’m beginning to agree with Noj’me. The computer in the ship might be able to tell us some things, but nothing excessively helpful. “Maybe we should leave it alone, R’jaal—”
He gets a stubborn look on his face, sitting up, and taps one of the dead screens. “If you do not know what they are, how can you say if people are coming this way or not?”
“My heat sensors are not working at full capacity and therefore I cannot rely upon the easiest method of determining whether or not life-forms exist. However, my sonar capability remains intact, so I am tracking by the symbionts. Each one gives off a unique infrasound dependent upon its host. Therefore, I am tracking multiple symbionts that match Noj’me, Set’nef, and Tal’nef. They seem to be in pursuit of a lone native symbiont bearer accompanied by a human symbiont bearer that are currently thirteen naer ahead of them.”
R’jaal growls, instantly alert (and sexy). “T’ia. She has escaped. Are they coming this way?”
“They are heading for a surface tunnel near the artificial orchard.”
He jumps to his feet. “Or-char? What is or-char?”
“Trees,” I say. “Plants. A garden. Not made naturally. Is there something like that nearby?”
R’jaal nods and climbs out of the pod. He grabs my hand and races over to Set’nef, who waits by the fire with his brother. “We must go. T’ia might need our help, especially if they are being pursued.”
Set’nef eyes us, skepticism on his face. “I do not understand your words. Noj’me, what is he saying?”
The woman moves to stand next to me. “The oracle has said a female has escaped. They head to the forbidden gardens. Your new friend wishes to go there. Will you take us?”
“They will be followed.” Set’nef looks displeased. “If it is the female I think it is, the chief will not let her go willingly.”
“Yes,” is all Noj’me says.
“And you will go with the surface dwellers?”
