Dirge - Alan Dean Foster [68]
Moving forward, he reached out and touched the leg of the human. When it failed to react, he grabbed the flexible material of its suit and tugged on it. This finally produced a response. Turning toward the two Unop-Patha the human glanced down. His eyes widened, the framing flesh pulling back to expose more of the whitish orb, and his mouth opened and began to move.
Wrenching himself away from the Unop-Patha’s grasp, the human stumbled backward until it was pressed up against the wall. It stood there staring at them, its mouth still working, arms splayed wide and flattened tightly against the composite material of the bulwark.
TwelveSon took a step forward, then hesitated. Hardly a specialist in interspecies contact, he was once again unsure how to proceed. “Is it to communicate trying or not? It looking right at us is.”
“No.” In his stolid, unimaginative way ThirtyOneSon was firm. “It not looking at us is. It looking behind us is.” Turning as one, the two Unop-Patha examined the space behind them. They saw nothing exceptional, nothing to differentiate it from the rest of the vessel’s interior.
“Whatever it is seeing not here is, but in its mind is.” ThirtyOneSon’s tone was somber. “I don’t think I to see it want.”
“But at it look! Surely it trying to communicate is.” Baffled by the human’s reactions, TwelveSon was at a loss as to what to do next. “See how open and active its mouth is? Humans communicate that way, as we do know; by means of modulated sound waves.”
“Different frequencies,” ThirtyOneSon commented thoughtfully. “We would not its words anyway understand, but specialists on the ship have to the principal human tongue access. Our people may not fluent be, but the necessary data in the library should be.” He contemplated the task at hand. “We must back to the ship get this one.”
TwelveSon reluctantly agreed. Since he and his companion could not talk to the human, they would have to somehow induce it to follow them into the presence of those who could. Stepping forward, he executed several simple gestures, hoping the human would get the idea. Then he and ThirtyOneSon turned to start back the way they had come.
“It not following is,” ThirtyOneSon observed. “It still just standing there staring at the opposite wall is.” He peered past the human and down the empty corridor. “Maybe for the rest of the crew it waiting is.”
“I’m beginning to think there no rest of the crew is.” TwelveSon’s thoughts were tumbling. “If there were they ought to have by now arrived. This a very small ship is.”
A contemplative ThirtyOneSon was quiet for a moment. “Then this being a sole survivor of the accident that trapped this vessel here is.”
“I beginning to think so am.” TwelveSon hesitated. “Unless the others, if there are others, are all dead, or otherwise immobilized.”
“I don’t know about you, but I not looking am.” The larger Unop-Patha was adamant. “We our family mandate here and more have fulfilled, by this craft entering and one human finding. Let FortyDaughter or others from the ship explore further. We leavetaking are owed.”
“I agree. But one last time let us try.” He turned back toward the human, who had not shifted from its splayed stance against the wall. “If it will with us come and our communications people can with it make contact, others may not hunt for answers to difficult questions have to.”
“Yes,” his companion readily agreed, “and if it a lost craft from one of the orbiting warships is, we valuable merit for performing a rescue should acquire.”
“Wonder make one it does, though.” TwelveSon had approached to within arm’s reach of the much more massive human. “If that the case is you would expect the humans both of these moons to be scouring, as well as the planetary surface in search of their lost comrade. And to have informed