That was fairly straightforward. Etelka felt no threat from them except for the one about not ever leaving, and a faint one that resembled in the slightest way, the way she felt when Miss Tagore wore the predator ring and sought her out. A feeling of being prey.
“And, if I may ask what are your people, your race, your species called?” From the corner of her eye she saw a disheveled Constable Pool manhandled out of the cave or whatever it was beneath the lattice of branches. She remained intently focused on Perpiscuitous Dream.
“We are Ngablakh.” It did not translate. All she heard was the deep-throated syllables.
“Why do you hide here? Our human empire is an open one. Open to many human races and cultures. I’m sure we could accommodate you and yours.”
Etelka noticed, again from the corner of her eye that Pool was dutifully attempting to record things in his pocket journal. He was dirty and looked like he had been shoved around and prodded, but ultimately not out of sorts.
Perpiscuitous Dream spoke briefly again. She repeated it out loud knowing that Pool couldn’t understand at all what was being said.
Also, remembering at last that she had taken part in one of Ms Tagore’s futuristic rituals and in the 23rd century received an implanted device. How does Nila do this? Internal vocalization?
Record-audio
Record-video -ocular
The implant was tied into her brain. In the underground lab three centuries in the future she trusted her friend, in part to gain access to this alien technology. Oh, the things we go through to advance Science.
Record-audio -includeRingTranslation
Etelka had no way of knowing if what she was understanding would be recorded. The Chief could be speaking gibberish for all she knew. She also had no idea what the proper grammar of the commands was. However, she continued to repeat the Chief’s answers for Pool.
The many questions she had mentally prioritized on her way here, on the voyage across the ocean had now left her wanting.
“How long have you been here, Chief? Our human records have no words about you other than fairy tales about monsters in the Wood. And I mean no disrespect, it is just that one would think that living fairly side by side for ages, we would know at least something of you.”
Perpiscuitous Dream looked at her askance. He then glanced around at his small tribe. She suspected there were more than just his small band under his command.
As he paused in thought, one of the smaller Ngablakh who had been scrutinizing Pool’s rough transcription with his ever-present pencil nub reached down and took the notebook from Pool’s hands.
Pool had not suspected this and looked bewildered as he coward beneath the standing male, expecting violence.
Etelka was shocked as well, and her hand hovered over her gun, not wanting to let them know that it was more than a bangle or other form of accoutrement.
The young (?) Ngablakh bit the notebook, tasting the paper and leather cover, before making a clear face of disgust (or did the ring also translate body language?) He then tossed it to another one, this a young female, who did much the same experimenting.
She turned her eyes back to the gigantic Chief, who was himself distracted by the playful young ones and seemed to be smiling.
He turned to meet her gaze.
“We have always been here from the beginning. The camps of men who in the times of the ancestors came and built in the clearing that you know, these did not last and burned with the rest of your kind when the demons came and then again when the fathers came and cleansed the world.”
“We have always known to avoid your kind. We are not blind to you. You are blind to us,” There were things the translation ring was missing, or mistranslating.
Etelka tried utilizing the command ring: “Sir, you should just let us go on our way. We won’t speak of your presence to anyone.”
He looked at her with contempt with a a tinge of mockery. She felt even more like food.
“I am done with this talk today.” This was clear. Perspicuous Dream was obviously bored with them and the interaction. “Bent-spear will…assist you in your adaptation.”
Work in progress. Mistakes and misspellings are present. This is a very rough draft. Copyright 2021 Ion Fyr ionfyr.net
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Ion Fyr 