Konrad
Silence greeted that pronouncement, unbroken by anything save the wind whispering off the coast. It carried the salt scent of the sea, cut with the sharp, hot smell of superheated air from the craft before them. The creature put a hand to its mouth, the gesture so very human that it seemed entirely out of place.
“Oh! That came out wrong, I’m terribly sorry.”
More silence, as the men around Konrad traded bewildered looks. He couldn’t look away from the figure at the top of the ramp, and a thousand questions flooded his mind. Where had it come from? How did it speak German? What did it want? It had ridges of scale over its eyes, and these knit together in an expression that could only be concern.
“Er…Do I have the translations right? Can you understand me?” It tromped down the ramp, dragging the boxy thing behind itself. There was a collective intake of breath as fingers tightened on triggers.
Von Braun stepped forward past the soldiers, waving the men down. “No, we can understand you perfectly. Your German is excellent.” He paused, and Konrad knew all the same questions that he had must have been fighting for primacy in von Braun’s mind. “I am Dr. Wernher von Braun, Director of Rocketry Research.” He floundered then, and not knowing what else to do, put out his hand.
The alien, for an alien it must have been, looked at the hand for a moment, puzzled, and then exclaimed, “A handshake! I’ve heard about these.” It set the box it was dragging upright and turned back, taking von Braun’s hand in its own. Three thick, scaly fingers and a thumb tipped with dull claws enveloped von Braun’s smaller appendage. The creature pumped the hand up and down. “I am Engineer Reel, third Engineer of the Old Bug,” It said solemnly. “It is very nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, Herr Reel.” An incredulous smile broke over von Braun’s face. He looked like a little boy at Christmas, confronted with a pile of presents. How in the hell was the man so calm? Konrad felt like he might topple over. “Very nice indeed.”
“’Herr’ is for males, right?” It cocked its head to one side as von Braun nodded. “Then I am Frau Reel, or just Reel.”
Konrad blinked. A female, extraterrestrial pilot, who was also an engineer, and who looked like a big turtle. It was all too much, he had to be dreaming. Beside him, Lusser’s jaw had sagged all the way down to his chest.
“Well then, Frau Reel,” Von Braun spread his hands. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”
She patted the box behind her with a scaly hand. “This is a communications relay that will allow us to talk to you. I’m to leave it with you so that we can speak at leisure; my captain is interested in exploring trade options.”
What on earth could we possibly have that would interest them? Konrad looked at the ship. He could not identify any source of propulsion, and it had moved like nothing he’d ever seen. They wouldn’t be interested in any technology they could offer…Raw materials, maybe?
Von Braun must have been thinking along the same lines. “What is it that you were hoping to trade?” The excitement in his smile was fading, caution creeping in to replace it.
“That’s kind of hard to explain…hang on one second please.” Her eyes went unfocused, and she gurgled something sibilant into the empty air.
Von Braun stared at her. “Ah…Frau Reel, what was that?”
“Sorry, the Captain is talking to me. One moment,” she said, dropping back into what must have been her own tongue. It was full of hisses and glottal stops, completely unlike anything Konrad had ever heard before.
For several moments, the gathered soldiers, scientists, and von Braun himself sat silent, watching as the alien carried on a one-sided conversation. There was a clear regularity to the sounds, and a complexity that suggested language, but with noises that Konrad didn’t think he could ever hope to replicate. There was a note of frustration to her vocalizations, a rising of her voice that bespoke an argument. He leaned over to Lusser.
“At least she’s got two legs instead of three.” He whispered.
Lusser stared at him. “What are you blathering about, you idiot?”
“You know—two legs instead of three? Like the Martians from War of the Worlds?”
“That was their fighting machines that had three legs.” Lusser hissed back at him. “And shut up—now is no time for jokes.”
Reel’s conversation with the air seemed to be winding down. She turned back to von Braun with a grimace on her broad face. “He wants me to return to the ship as soon as possible, but it feels weird to just drop this without any more explanation. Is there someplace we could talk?”
“Ah…My office?”
“Great! I’ll just leave this here then.” She settled the transmission relay onto solid ground and turned, gesturing. ‘Lead the way!”
Von Braun left the soldiers behind to guard the ship; they parted nervously for him, watching Reel with more than a little trepidation, but the force of von Braun’s self-assuredness was sufficient to hold them back. As they walked, he grabbed one of the other senior scientists and sent him to go get a camera and start photographing the ship. The man broke off from the group, grabbing a half a dozen other men as he went. Reel seemed not to notice, staring at everything from trees to buildings as they passed them by. She wore an expression of open wonder, eyes wide and mouth dangling, revealing two rows of heavy, blocky teeth. Von Braun glanced at her, and then did a double take. Konrad wondered if it was for the teeth or the expression. Even plastered across that reptilian face, it was clearly one of awe, with her eyes wide and lips parted, and a slight curve to the corners of her mouth that could have been delight, or could have been just the shape of her jaw.
By the time they reached von Braun’s office, Konrad realized with a start that their group had shrunk to only himself, Lusser, and von Braun, all the rest having been sent off. How von Braun managed to peel them away, he had no idea, and he was rather surprised to find that he’d been allowed to stay. Reel took note of the reduced state of their party as they entered the building.
“Where have all the others gone?” She asked.
“They have duties to attend to, and I’d rather keep this meeting small. Please, come in.” He held the door for her, but the effect was somewhat spoiled when she had to edge past him sideways to fit her wide shell through the doorframe. “Have a seat, please. Konrad, Lusser, you too.”
Reel paused, looking at the offered chair. “I don’t think I can sit in this.”
It was true, Konrad saw. The seat was far too narrow for her frame, and even if it were larger, it would never accommodate her tail. An assistant produced a piano bench from somewhere instead, and she settled happily onto it, though it creaked in protest at her weight. Konrad and Lusser took seats to the sides of the desk, making a rough circle around the flat oak surface.
No sooner had von Braun taken his seat than he sprang back to his feet again, rummaging in a cabinet beneath his rocket models. He came up with a bottle of apple schnapps and four glasses, and then hesitated. “Will you have something to drink?” He asked. He sounded unsure, as though he were counting on the usual courtesies to carry him through an alien experience.
Reel leaned forward on her bench, the ridges of scale over her eyes lifting in interest. “What is it? Our water is usually clear.”
Lusser chuckled, taking a glass. “It’s not water. It’s a beverage made from fruit, and this particular kind is quite good.” He murmured his thanks as von Braun poured him a measure of the cloudy, yellow tinted liquor.
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Konrad accepted his own glass with both hands. It smelled wonderful, apple and something sweeter over the alcohol burn. He sipped, rolling the drink in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. “Is that honey in there?” Warmth rolled out through his chest from his stomach. Oh, that was a good drink.
“Honey and pear.” Von Braun answered. He filled Reel’s glass to double what he’d poured for either of the other men and handed it over to her. She took it between her clawed thumb and forefinger, turning it left and right to admire the fine glass. It looked tiny in her hand, like a cup meant for a small child. “I had been saving it for a special occasion, and this seemed appropriate.” He poured himself a glass too.
Reel put her glass down on the desk and reached into the bag at her side, picking through its contents. She withdrew a thin metal rod, capped by a cover at the bottom end. Removing the cap, she set it aside and rolled out what looked like a thin sheet of flexible glass from the top. The three men fell silent as they watched her, Lusser with his drink halfway to his lips and von Braun with the bottle still in his hand.
The alien tapped the sheet with a single blunt claw and it came alight in a wash of symbols. Konrad fumbled his glass, almost losing it in his shock. What was that material? It couldn’t be glass, no glass had ever bent like that. Plastic, perhaps? But where was the light coming from? It might as well have been magic. Reel dipped the uncapped end into the schnapps, and the writing cleared from the screen in a flash, only to fill again a moment later, from top to bottom. She perused it in silence, seeming not to notice their stares.
She made a sound, a huff of air that Konrad thought might have been surprise. “There’s a lot of…Hang on, I don’t have the German word for it, but it’s a clear compound, burns easily-”
“Ethanol.” Interrupted Lusser, leaning forward. He stared at the device Reel held with a covetous glitter in his eyes. Konrad couldn’t blame him. A tool that could tell you the chemical composition of any liquid instantly? That would be priceless. “Is that right, ethanol?”
She raised both hands in a gesture that Konrad took to be a shrug. “Maybe? It looks like this.” She tapped at the screen, and turned it to show them. The display cleared again, and a picture filled it instead. It was made of solid spheres, two large black ones surrounded by a half a dozen small gray hemispheres. A single red sphere, somewhere between the size of the other two kinds, perched atop one of the black. She swiped at it with a claw, and the structure spun on the screen, a three dimensional shape.
Konrad groped across the desk for the stack of paper that von Braun kept there. “Is that the chemical structure?” He pulled a sheet off the pile, scattering three more onto the floor in his haste. Von Braun didn’t seem to notice or care; he was staring at the device in open wonder. Konrad pulled his pen out of his pocket and put the tip to the paper, trying to capture the shape of the model.
“Yes,” Reel answered happily, reaching up to tap the screen again. The image stopped, and she made a flicking gesture with two claws. The spheres scattered apart, linked by thin lines. “Does this help at all?”
“Yes!” Konrad pushed the paper with the sketch across the table so that Lusser and von Braun could see it. “Look, it’s definitely ethanol.” He drew quick lines from the two larger black spheres, labeling them. “These are carbon, the little ones are hydrogen, the red one is oxygen.” He sketched a more familiar dot structure alongside it. The writing and lines came out wobbly in his haste, but he was too excited to care. “Is that right?” He asked, gesturing to the labels. “How does this device work?”
She pointed to the end of the probe. “I can’t read your writing, but that sounds right, yes. You put the sensor in contact with the substance in question, and it looks at the molecular structures. It compares those to a list of known compounds, and references that against hazardous chemicals to tell you safe limits.”
Lusser blinked in astonishment. “It looks at the atoms in the molecules themselves? How is that possible, on such a tiny scale?” His arm twitched, as though he longed to reach out and snatch the tool away for closer inspection.
Konrad was more interested in the second part of what she had said. “How does it compare the chemicals?” It sounded to him like she was talking about some kind of computer, an incredibly powerful one.
She blinked at them. “Er…I don’t actually know, sorry.” A tinge crept up her scaled cheeks, darkening them, and she rubbed at the back of her head with her free hand. “But we have a few of these, if you’re interested in trading for them…” She trailed off, glancing between the three men.
Sensing her discomfort, von Braun cleared his throat. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. The trading discussion will go through your…captain, is that correct?”
Reel seized on the new direction gratefully, nodding her head. “Yes, that’s right. Once we have the transmission system set up, you’ll be able to speak directly with him. I’ll have to go back once that’s done.” She lowered her head at the last, her face drooping a little bit.
The expressions were so human, even on that turtle-like face, that Konrad’s heart went out to her. If that wasn’t a look of reluctance, or despondency, then he’d eat his last report page by page.
Von Braun sensed it too. “A drink, then!” he said, his voice hearty as he picked up his glass. “To our new friend, if it’s safe for her to do so.”
She brightened at that. “It’s safe. We use ethanol, though I’ve never heard of anyone drinking it.” She recapped the device and tucked it away. “The survival kit says it’s fine so long as I don’t have too much.” With that, she plucked up the glass and tossed the whole measure into her mouth.
Her eyes bulged the instant it hit her throat, and Konrad was sure that she would spray them all with her drink. He flinched away, memories of his own first taste of alcohol sharp in his mind. She’d be feeling the burn any second.
But the coughing and retching he’d expected never came. Instead, she held the drink in her mouth for a moment before swallowing it down. She exhaled in a long sigh, and held out her glass. “That was like nothing I’ve ever tasted before! Can I have some more?”
The three men stared at her. “Uh…” Von Braun poured a second, smaller measure into her glass. “I take it you like it?”
“Very much!” She took a sip this time, swishing it around her mouth. “What is it called? I like the sweetness, and the way it tingles.”
“It’s called schnapps,” von Braun traded a curious look with Konrad and Lusser. “Is this something you’d be interested in trading for?”
She grew hesitant again, and made as if to scratch at the back of her head with her free hand before stopping herself. “We had something specific in mind, but maybe…” She winced, her eyes going unfocused. “Okay, I really do have to go. The captain is yelling at me. I do have to make sure the communicator is working right first, otherwise this whole trip will have been for nothing.”
Yelling? Konrad had never heard quieter yelling. Some kind of mind-to-mind communication device? Reel downed the last of her drink, smacking her lips, and the three men hastily followed suit.
Konrad fell in behind Reel as they left the office. As they passed out into the dim pre-dawn light, he realized that she had something stuck to the back of her head. A small metal plate, perhaps a few inches across, with a set of lights showing a steady green. That had to be how she was communicating with her captain, but the fact that it was in her head sent a shudder through him. “Where is your ship, at the moment?”
She cast a puzzled glance back at him. “On the field where I left it. Oh! You mean the Old Bug. It’s in your asteroid belt.”
He blinked at her. “But you were carrying on that conversation with your captain in real time. How is that possible? A radio signal would take…” He stopped, unsure how far the asteroid belt actually was. “Longer than that.” He finished lamely.
She shook her head. “We don’t use radio for communication, it’s too slow. We use…You don’t have a word for it, but in our language it means something like ‘the place beneath space’. It doesn’t take any time at all for such a short distance.”
It was almost too much. There was nothing short about the distances she was discussing, and he had no idea what she might mean by “the place beneath space.” She had a ship capable of crossing half the solar system, and most fascinating of all, computers as powerful as any he’d ever dreamed of. More powerful, even, and all he’d gotten was a tiny glance.
And it was all about to go flying away. Von Braun chatted amiably with Reel as they made their way towards the ship, as though he had not a care in the world, but his hands gave away his own tension; they were clutched at his coat in tight fists. “Might we have a brief tour of your fine vessel?” He said, gesturing at the open ramp. Guards surrounded the vessel, nervousness etched into every line of their bodies. Nothing in their training had prepared them for this. “I would be most curious to see the inside.”
“Of course!” She seemed happy to delay her departure, and gestured for them to follow her up the ramp. “Please, come on up.” One of the guards looked like he might object, but Lusser shot him a savage glare that shut his mouth with a click.
Konrad stopped at the base of the ramp. Lusser turned his glare on him instead. “What are you dawdling for?”
Konrad hesitated. He’d have rather told von Braun, but he was already aboard the ship, vanishing around a corner. Lusser would have to do. He grabbed the other man’s arm and leaned in to whisper to him. “Keep her busy for a minute.”
“Keep her busy?” He whispered at Konrad. “What are you up to?”
“I need to keep her here.” Konrad pleaded. “Please, just trust me.”
Lusser’s gaze narrowed to hard suspicion. “How are you going to manage that?”
“She said she couldn’t leave until she had communications established.” Konrad said, gesturing to the relay.
The implication sunk home, and Lusser’s eyes widened. “Do it.” He hissed, tugging his arm free from Konrad’s grip. “Just don’t get caught!” Turning, he strode up the ramp, calling out to the ship’s occupants. “Konrad is going to have a look around the outside!”
Konrad let a shaky breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding go, and then turned towards the communication relay.