Is it dumb to press a strange button on an even stranger spaceship?
Yes, yes it is.
Do I have many options? I contemplate all the different things this button could be. It could be a distress signal. It could arm a security system. It could be nothing at all. Do I want to chance it?
I look at Vektal again.
Actually . . . I don’t want to chance it, I realize. I’d be just as happy turning around and going out of here with him. I know I’m safe with him. I might even be able to be happy with him. But the other women don’t have the same option as I do. They don’t have a big, wonderful alien treating them like gold and catering to their every need.
So I suck in a deep breath and punch the flashing button.
It clicks.
Nothing happens.
Well that’s . . . disappointing.
Then a slow whine starts, like the hum of something coming online. A smooth, androgynous voice says something in a fluid language that’s unlike mine. Lights appear and begin to flash. There’s a noise and then a hiss like central air was just turned on.
Vektal grabs me and hauls my body behind him, pulling out one of his blades to protect me.
I’m chicken enough to hide behind his back for a long moment. Then I pat his arm again and push forward. “It’s okay,” I say. “I think stuff is just . . . uh, booting up.” I approach the panel.
As I do, the voice speaks again. This time it raises its voice at the end, almost like a question.
It’s . . . asking us something? “I don’t understand you,” I say aloud.
There’s another whirling, chirring sound. A picture of Earth appears in midair, three-dimensional. “Query,” the voice says. “Language: Earth English. Is this correct?”
I gasp. “Yes! Yes, that’s correct! You know English?”
“This ship’s artificial intelligence is programmed with over twenty-thousand common languages. Do you wish to change language selections? If so, say—”
“No,” I say quickly. “Stay on English!” I point at the picture of Earth, spinning in midair. “That’s my planet!”
“Settings accepted. Please wait for system to come fully online before requesting a query.”
“I . . . all right.” I look at Vektal with wide eyes. He seems equally as astonished as me. He puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close, prepared for a just-in-case sort of scenario. It’s strangely comforting.
The computer hums for a moment longer, and then I feel a gust of warm air brush my face. “Environmental controls online. Ideal habitat temperature for humans is 22 degrees Celsius or 72 degrees Fahrenheit. Ideal habitat temperature for modified sakh is 3 degrees celsius or 37 degrees fahrenheit. Which shall I program?”
“Modified sakh?” I ask.
“The male at your side is a sakh lifeform, modified for habitation on this planet.”
Oh. “Is he not from this planet?” Is Vektal a stranger here, too?
“Sakh originate from a planet that they call Kes, or home in their language. It is approximately 3.2 million parsecs from your planet Earth. This planet is 5.8 million parsecs from your planet Earth.”
That sounds . . . far. I feel faint. I have so many questions. I don’t know what to ask first. “I . . . what is this place?”
“This planet has many names depending on the language. Your species has not discovered this solar system yet. Our current location is the second planet in this binary sun system. This particular world completes an orbit around the suns every 372.5 days and rotates on its axis every 27.2 hours. The current temperature is—”
“Cold. Yeah. I know.” I wave a hand because none of this information is helping me out any. “So if he’s not from here,” I say, pointing at Vektal. “How did he get here?”
“This vessel was originally a sakh pleasure cruiser,” the ship continues in a melodious voice. “Due to a solar storm, the crew was forced to shelter at the nearest habitable planet, which you are currently on. They experienced technical difficulties.”
“Technical difficulties?” It sounds so absurd. “Really?”
“This ship is keyed to a specific pilot. The pilot experienced congestive heart failure, and a secondary was unavailable to pilot the ship. A distress signal was launched but malfunctioned. No further signals were sent.”
So Vektal’s people are stranded here too? “When was this?” I ask, feeling a little faint at this new tidbit of information.
“This event occurred 287 years ago. Please note that when this system references ‘years’， it is calculated based upon the orbit of this planet versus the planet Earth.”