The cockpit had come loose in the crash. Erin lifted the overhead canopy; it was surprisingly light. The alien pilot moved in a startled manner away from her and brought an arm to his face to shield himself. Seeing that he was unarmed, the others moved closer to get a better look at him.
They recognized the maroon and grey uniform—several of them were wearing an identical one. Erin heard a few shouts as the team reacted to the surprise, and reached forward to extend the pilot an arm. He regarded her a moment longer, unable to see her face behind the helmet, she unable to see his. But he was a humanoid, like them. He could have been one of them, and in his uniform would have blended easily into the ship if he had not been discovered.
He took her hand instinctively, and she pulled him out of the broken plane, but he appeared unharmed. He stumbled up into the light of the Great Bay, meeting more of what he thought was his own race. The maroon and grey forms surrounded him, joined by those in another familiar dark navy and gold uniform, the ancient garb of their enemy planet Tiasenne. Only the pale blue uniform of the creature that had taken his hand struck no chords in Iriken’s memory.
His uniform computer told him that the atmosphere was breathable in all respects, and he paused only a moment to depressurize the system before removing his helmet.
The Earthlings at last stared at the grey-skinned face of their enemy.
* * * * *
The Discovery’s internal communications network could not handle the sudden overload of signals. Messages were transmitted to the bridge and to the scientists, back to the Great Bay, over the general intercom making the entire crew aware of recent events, and in between various places on board, from the Stargazer to the bridge—the traffic only lessened after the scientists scheduled an examination in the ship’s laboratory and ceased communication to prepare their tests.
The bridge crew that transmitted Colonel Kansier’s questions informed the team to remain in the Great Bay until the formal emissary of the ship’s three head officers arrived. Captain Kolesar and Major Dimitriev followed the Colonel to the cluster surrounding the alien pilot. They had been prepared for the sight of him, but the pale grey skin and fair hair of their captive was nonetheless shocking to see; not only that, but he looked like a strange kind of human being himself, with a more pointed, bird-like head.
By now Ekasi Iriken Zirnenka had realized his miscalculation. Several scientists, officers, and technicians on board the Stargazer had emerged to catch a glimpse of the alien pilot—but they were not as he imagined. Wearing similar uniforms to the others, the lack of helmets showed that they were not Orians, but representatives of Kiel3’s native population.
But how had they gotten hold of the Orian uniforms? he wondered. The Great Leader had said nothing that led him to believe that the Selesta had once been an Orian ship, only that the Zariqua Enassa who lived here had once betrayed him…
The man in front of the new procession greeted Iriken in unintelligible gibberish and allowed two others to speak. Then the officers at his side took his arm and fell in behind the new emissaries, leading him out of the Great Bay and into a long silver-blue lined corridor. The creature that had pulled him out of the ship and its fellow fighter pilots trailed behind him, and still he wondered what their faces would prove—if he had been correct in surrendering to his own kind in order to determine if Zariqua Enassa were aboard, or if he had failed his Great Leader and divested them to the Kiel3 enemy. Perhaps Zariqua Enassa was also their captive, and wanted to be reunited with the Great Leader. Perhaps then, the Great Leader’s pain was the result of some tragic misunderstanding!
Iriken glanced down the corridors at the curious aliens who had come to see him, but the Selesta seemed empty to him in comparison to Enlil, even if many of the more timid ones hid from him. Finally they passed through a large room filled with unusual telluric vegetation he recognized from his journey to Kiel3’s surface. The smell of it overwhelmed his senses. He had not been in close proximity to the likes of it before—and he found he could have stayed there indefinitely, drinking the richness of aromas outside his experience.
But beyond on the far wall, one of the doors yawned. An assembly of white-clad figures regarded him in astonishment. As he approached, he observed a female among the leaders, watching him with an expression almost of recognition.
* * * * *
Knightwood knew her secret suspicions had waited for irrefutable physical evidence of this magnitude. But somehow she could no longer regard the alien man as the means to her ends once she saw him approach. Like the original inhabitants of Selesta, the ancient visitors to lom-vaia, and the man in the picture she had found what seemed a lifetime ago, the alien intruder had pale grey skin that distinguished him from any human being on Earth. And yet in all other ways, he looked somewhat like them. His fair hair, almost white, convinced her that he was even closer to them than the white-haired creatures they had discovered sleeping in the depths of Discovery.
Cheung and Koslov led him into the laboratory. While a few assistants strapped him to the table, Knightwood took some skin, blood, and other tissue samples. The analyzer began processing the information, but Knightwood and Zhdanov returned to the alien’s side. An assistant had stripped him to the waist, exposing the recognizable musculature of his chest and arms. Only a few white body hairs showed on the pale greyish-white skin, but the blood vessels were more pronounced.
Then Colonel Kansier stepped forward and addressed the alien, asking him his name, but the pilot only responded with a confused, then pained expression. His eyes glanced from one to another. Knightwood suddenly felt guilty about what they had done but chastised herself for getting soft. The enemy aliens had killed millions of Earthlings, for no known reason. Nevertheless, the expression on his face disturbed her.
“Elas ahnor ees elan adann larae cheveiek!” He screamed suddenly. It was a startling sound to the Earthlings, like music.
Knightwood stepped back.
Had he misheard the creature? Zhdanov reacted, startled. The other words, like pieces of indecipherable lyrics had bypassed recognition, but the last—it almost sounded like the word for human in his own Earth language.
Kansier motioned for Erin to come forward.
The alien regarded the one that had pulled him from the plane nervously as that figure approached him. Erin stopped a pace away and removed her helmet.
“Can you translate what he said?” Kansier asked, and Erin nodded.
“He told us that we have no cause to treat a fellow being this way.”
Zhdanov choked; meanwhile Knightwood watched the alien pilot’s reaction. His widening eyes had frozen in shock as Erin removed her helmet. Knightwood swore the expression on his face was one of recognition. As she glanced between the two of them, the color of their faces seemed to subside, and she thought she could descry a vague similarity in their facial features. Then she tried to dismiss the thought.
Knightwood swallowed and looked at Erin again. The first day she had seen her, nearly fifteen years ago, she had felt Erin’s penetrating gaze, and had thought the girl could sense her own thoughts, her innermost self. She wondered if that stultifying gaze had fallen on the enemy pilot.
Who are you, Erin Mathieson? she wondered, remembering all of her suspicions about Cameron’s involvement with her. As she turned to regard the lieutenant, she found it hard to accept her previous hypotheses. She paid no attention to Erin’s hypnotic eyes—those eyes that vacillated like turbulent waters, drowning out the truth—
And the truth suddenly dawned on her.
Knightwood knew at once that Erin was not of the Earth. Erin had deceived them all.
Erin—was an alien!
“Did he learn some of our words from one of our radio transmissions? Could he possibly be trying to gain our sympathy?” the Colonel suggested.
“No, sir, he has no knowledge of our languages whatsoever.” Erin continued. “And he was, I believe, referring to himself.”
“Incredible.”
The Colonel breathed, expressing the moment.
Knightwood let the knowledge sink in, trying to put aside her conclusions about Erin. If the similarity in one word was indeed a parallel between their races, then—perhaps even the human race was descended from the galactic Empire after all, one that had reached the Earth long ago. And the “creator” of their race, like the one that had appeared on lom-vaia, had altered or guided Earth’s evolution. The only thing he could not do was to change the basic Earth bio-chemistry that had kept their skin pigment distinct.
“Sir, how is that possible? Could it just be a coincidence?” Lieutenant Nakagawa spoke for the first time throughout the proceedings.
“I doubt it, but as for an explanation? If there is one—I don’t know.” Kansier shook his head, wondering what the odds were that he had managed to be involved in such a revelation.
“Ask him about the Empire,” Knightwood suggested, and the others responded with enthusiasm.
Knightwood waited for Erin to speak the alien’s language, but the lieutenant remained silent. However, the alien’s face moved, as if he were indeed listening to her.
It is telepathy, Knightwood smiled inwardly, secretly triumphant. She’s communicating with him telepathically.
“He doesn’t know anything about an Empire,” Erin responded a moment later, dashing Knightwood’s hopes. “His name is Iriken Zirnenka. His people are from a planet called Orian.”
“How do you know?” Kansier demanded.
“He told me, sir,” Erin responded. “Telepathically.”
“What about the Federation?” Knightwood prompted and waited a moment as Erin turned to the alien.
“Inani—lare-so,” the pilot had fixed his gaze on Erin. He was regarding her as though he had just made an astonishing revelation. He had decided something in the past few seconds; it appeared as though he had figured out the answer to a mystery of his own. The exultation in his voice was clear, even though with words he had denied his understanding of their line of questioning. Thus the interchange made no sense at all, at least to the Earth observers.
“He doesn’t know.” Erin said.
“Then why is he looking at you like that?” Knightwood wondered. The others had not noticed it, she realized, as they turned to regard her skeptically. Knightwood didn’t care. She was certain that the alien had recognized Erin.
“Well?” Kansier asked calmly, not convinced that his trusted pilot was hiding anything important, but seeing no reason that Erin might evade Knightwood’s question, he allowed it to stand.
Nevertheless, Erin hesitated.
As if sensing the others’ confusion, the pilot himself interrupted, trying to clarify the matter for them. “Zariqua na-salen Enassa. E-ya sorvei,” his voice sang out.
Knightwood remembered how Erin Mathieson had spoken her first English words, in a similar singing voice. Why couldn’t the others hear it? Why couldn’t they see the truth? And for that matter, why had Knightwood herself been blinded for so long? Yet if Erin could read minds, could she also imprint suggestions into the human brain? A suggestion perhaps to overlook what now seemed to her so overwhelmingly apparent?
Knightwood was now sure—Erin was also an alien!
Meanwhile, Kansier narrowed his eyes on Erin, urging her to explain.
“He thinks I am someone called Zariqua Enassa,” Erin said, her face suddenly distraught. Knightwood sensed Erin’s anguish as she spoke; despite her own questions, Knightwood sensed that Erin was telling the truth. Yes, Knightwood thought, watching her. Erin was genuinely terrified. Faced with some revelation the alien pilot forced upon her—she was terrified, though not of him, but of herself.
“He says—’disguised Zariqua Enassa’. I don’t know what that is. I honestly don’t—” Erin protested. “And he won’t tell me who that is—he doesn’t really know. His leader is looking for something called Zariqua Enassa—someone whom the Great Leader knew—but, that isn’t me. Knightwood, you know that couldn’t possibly be me—” She turned to Knightwood as if entreating her support.
Knightwood subsided to that expression and relented in her harsh suppositions. If Erin believed she was not this Zariqua Enassa—then she wasn’t, Knightwood decided. And if she craved proof, Knightwood’s conscious mind reminded her that Erin had been a child when they found her, too young for this creature, this Great Leader, to have known her.
The alien must have mistaken her for someone else because she could communicate with him, and she was wearing an alien uniform. Yes, that was it. Just as the Elphorans had thought Erin was some kind of translator.
Knightwood reached out and held Erin’s hand; there was a disquieting look of terror in the young woman’s eyes. The others watched her mutely, yet Scott’s eyes flashed at the enemy alien. He felt sure that the creature had attacked Erin in some way and suppressed nagging doubts that what the alien had said could be true. She was not this creature he was looking for—how could an Earthling be chosen to succeed whatever bizarre role this Zariqua creature fulfilled for the Charon aliens or their Discovery cousins? Erin was one of them, no matter what Discovery had done to her—hell, even if it had somehow chosen her as a vessel of its being, he didn’t care.
* * * * *
Iriken was beside himself. He had found her! She was what the Great Leader had searched for across eons, throughout hundreds of generations! From the earliest memories of his inculcation, he remembered that face. At first he had been fooled by the strange pigmentation, but the telepathic force she had used to speak with him exposed her secret. Only the Great Leader rivaled her ability to see his thoughts, transmit questions, and draw out the answers, even against his will. The Great Leader had impressed the minds of his elite with her image by thought communication; remembering erased all doubt.
The memories Sargon had projected returned in brief flashes in Iriken’s mind as he watched the beautiful young woman bury her face in her hands. Somewhere from the depths of his being, suppressed by the years in which he had been inculcated into the elite hierarchy, an emotion surfaced. He had once felt the Great Leader’s deep love for this woman, and remembering it, he found himself infected by the same feeling. For a moment he contemplated the possibility of remaining near her. But it was not his place to come between Zariqua Enassa and the Great Leader. He knew that she had caused the Great Leader much pain, but she appeared so young and innocent that he wanted to doubt her culpability.
The Great Leader of their race was the same, seemingly, but in truth many thousands of years old.
* * * * *
Could Erin be one of them? Colonel Kansier had also begun to wonder. No human being possessed the abilities that she had. Could she be one of the strange people from the coffins? Or related to them somehow? Erin had been found near the Discovery as a child. Still, she looked human. So if she was not one of its passengers—then perhaps one of them had affected her, changed her.
Oh, Good Lord! He thought. Why am I jumping to conclusions? He sighed, finding the whole situation too much to contemplate and decided to leave the most difficult sorting out for later.
Suddenly their prisoner began to speak in that marvelous musical voice, but Kansier could no longer distinguish the words. He began to comprehend that the creature was producing several sounds at once, like three humans speaking a sentence at the same time.
In his own excitement, Iriken had begun to ramble.
“I have nothing to do with your war,” Erin responded after a moment, arguing with whatever it was that he had said. “I didn’t cause anything. We on Earth did nothing to you—it was you who started the conflict.” She said, stopping his words.
“Analysis complete, Captain,” Zhdanov interrupted. “Our friend isn’t human as we know it,” he said slowly, intrigued, “but—certain enzyme and gene sequences say we are descended from the same line of evolution. The lack of others show that we cannot possibly be related.” He announced, utterly at a loss. “Science fails to explain this one. Any suggestions?” he asked
, throwing up his hands.
* * * * *
All that night, or during the third and fourth shifts, the alien prisoner remained confined to the laboratory, subject to a thousand tests the scientists performed on him. Early the next day, Colonel Kansier, his Co-Captain Dimitriev, and Captain Kolesar returned to see how the alien prisoner had fared, bringing Erin as their translator. The Colonel was particularly interested in finding out why the aliens had come to Earth and attacked it, what they wanted, and why they continued to pursue the Discovery.
However, the alien appeared exhausted, having been kept awake throughout the night. Erin translated the answers at the Colonel’s request.
“He says the Great Leader searches for Zariqua Enassa. She is aboard this ship, the Selesta.” Erin said evenly. “He says we must not protect her any longer. We must relinquish her to the Enlil.”
“En-lill?” Kolesar asked.
“It is the name of their ship.” Erin explained.
“At last we know who they are,” Kansier declared, with overt satisfaction. “From a planet called Orian, aboard a ship called En-lil. And whoever owned the Selesta, we know they were at war with them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You were right, Erin.” Kansier shook his head. “The two people were not on the same side, even though we might think they look alike. Does he know where the people of Selesta were from, where they went, if they were of the same race?”
“No—he doesn’t know anything about the ship other than the name of the woman on board—Zariqua Enassa. And she isn’t from his world.”
“This Zarr-ee-kah Ee-nass-uh he mentioned—do you suppose there is someone on board guiding us?” Dimitriev interjected. “Perhaps living in one of the sealed areas?”
Kansier turned to his subordinate. “You may be right. Lieutenant,” he continued, turning to Erin, “tell the prisoner that we don’t know the person he is referring to and that even if we did we still might consider negotiating some conversations to sort things out. Remind him that we have done nothing to instigate their hostilities towards us.”