The Red King - Michael A. Martin [34]
Donatra’s eyes widened at this surprising revelation, and she nodded an acknowledgment. “Well done, Doctor. I wonder how the language of the Federation managed to spread so far from its source.”
“I imagine that must have happened the same way their human biosigns got out here.” Venora offered her superior a small, lopsided grin. “But since human migrations aren’t my area of expertise, Commander, I’ll concentrate instead on matters of medicine and physiology. The biomonitors show that he’s regaining consciousness. You may speak with him now. His name is Frane. So far, I’ve had time to learn little else.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Donatra said, then strode toward the infirmary door. Venora followed her to the patient’s bedside, as did a pair of armed guards.
Donatra looked at the recumbent figure on the infirmary bed; the sheet draped over it did not obscure the rough gray hide, the opposable thumbs on its feet, nor the long, thick-thewed tail that dangled limply onto the deck-plating.
“This creature is an Earth human?” Donatra asked quietly, leaning toward the doctor.
“Genetically, though obviously not in phenotype,” Venora said in a near-whisper. “This individual appears to possess a number of adaptations to long periods of microgravity, with traits that resemble those of arboreal primates.”
“I’ve never seen any other humans with such traits.”
“Nor have I, Commander. But there’s no reason these creatures could not have evolved from baseline human stock, just as we split off from our Vulcan forebears, millennia ago.”
Donatra stared in growing wonderment at the slumbering alien. “An Earth human.”
Venora leaned over her patient, studying him with evident concern. “As counterintuitive as that may be, that is the essential truth of it,” she said quietly. “This creature’s genes, or at least most of them, originated on Earth.”
The alien’s stiff, shutter-like eyelids slowly opened then, revealing dark, extremely alert eyes. Those deep brown orbs showed fear at first, until they lit upon Venora, whose presence appeared to calm him, at least somewhat. The doctor had evidently built up at least some degree of trust with the alien already.
“Not…not of Aerth,” the creature said, sitting up in a tentative, cautious manner. The guards stood by attentively only a few paces away, obviously ready to vaporize the alien at the first sign of trouble. The alien’s eyes fell upon Donatra and narrowed with obvious distaste.
“Who are you?”
“I am Commander Donatra, of the Romulan Imperial Warbird Valdore, which you are aboard,” Donatra said, trying to sound both authoritative and nonthreatening.
He nodded. “You want something of me.”
“Only the answers to a few questions.”
“I cannot prevent you from asking them, Commander.”
“You’ve already told us that you’re not an Earth human,” Donatra said. That made sense, considering how very far away Earth was from this extremely remote region of space. “So what exactly are you, Mr. Frane?”
The creature, this Frane, tilted its head in evident puzzlement.
“What do your people call themselves?” Venora said, by way of clarification.
“We are called Neyel.” Looking at Venora, Frane added, “Where are the others who accompanied me in the evacuation capsule?”
“We found a total of four of your escape pods…evacuation capsules,” Donatra said.
“Four?” Frane appeared surprised, but Donatra couldn’t tell if that was because he had expected more or fewer of the pods to have survived whatever disaster had precipitated their launch.
“Three of the pods contained members of your species, all of whom are apparently uniformed members of your people’s military. You were found in the last one, along with a female…Neyel. And three aliens of species we have never encountered before.”
The creature sat more fully upright, moving