Read Online Epic: Book 02 - Outlaw Trigger by Lee Stephen - Free Book Online
Authors: Lee Stephen
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the Ceratopians was designated an ic. This was the twenty-second one they’d had. While he’d never spoken to it before, he’d watched others try. It was particularly unresponsive, but for whatever reason it remained there.
Of course, there were ibs, too. Those were Ithini captured with the Bakma. But they tended to be considerably less intelligent. It was a detail that had not gone unnoticed.
As soon as they reached ic-22’s cell, the scientist stepped to a side-door panel. The door itself was opaque—Command didn’t want the aliens staring about. After the scientist pressed a series of buttons, the door slid open. The cell was dimly lit, but it was obvious that moments ago, it had been completely dark. ic-22 was barely awake, and turned its head to the men. Then it sat up.
The Ithini, or ‘grays,’ as they were commonly referred to, were stereotyped by most citizens as being cute. Torokin, on the other hand, found the Ithinis to be the eeriest of all the species. Their large, black, bulbous eyes sat slanted on their oversized heads. Their bodies, frail to the point where they looked anorexic, were covered in tight, off-white skin. It felt like rubber to the touch.
While not overly dexterous, they walked with a gangly gait. They walked as if they were tall—odd, considering that the average Ithini measured barely five feet in height.
They were telepathic, at least to an extent. They had the ability to ‘connect,’ as they called it. It allowed them to understand concepts and feelings, but only so far. There was no evidence that they had the ability to read minds thought for thought, transfer exact ideas, or manipulate will. They merely adjusted their frequencies to match others’, which gave them a puzzling inclination to comprehend. It made little sense.
“ B’nik ya`asua,” the scientist said as he entered the cell.
The Ithini stared silently.
Torokin could see his own reflection in the alien’s eyes. It was impossible to tell if an Ithini was tired. Their faces were almost always stoic. They did display occasional emotions—fear, excitement, curiosity. But their personalities in general were subtle, if not at times completely void.
“ Will you speak with us today?” the scientist asked.
The alien did nothing.
Torokin folded his arms as he watched the scientist sit down in a chair. The cell door behind them was opened, but it didn’t matter. There was no way the Ithini could escape.
“ He doesn’t want to connect,” the scientist said. “He would have done so by now.”
Torokin rubbed his eyes, then leaned against the wall. “Have you spoken to this alien before?”
“ Yes, I have. Several times.”
“ Ask him what your name is.”
The scientist turned to the Ithini. “Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
Several seconds of silence passed without response.
“ Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
“ Does he know your name?”
The scientist sighed. “Yes, he does. I don’t think he understands. He didn’t connect.”
“ You’re speaking in his language. How can he not understand?”
The scientist tried again. “Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
There was nothing.
“ The Ithini are a stubborn lot, aren’t they?” The new voice came from outside the cell. It was a British one. When Torokin turned around, he was genuinely surprised at who he saw.
It was Benjamin Archer, the newly-named judge.
“ When they connect, you can speak to them in gibberish,” Archer said, “and it seems like they know what you’re saying. But when they won’t…you might as well chat with a wall.” The champagne-blond judge smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Judge Torokin.”
Torokin surveyed the new judge. “You are up late tonight. For what reason?”
“ Today I became a judge,” Archer answered, restraining a grin. “I’m a tiny bit excited.” As he stepped into the cell with the others, he motioned toward the alien. “While I was at London , I worked a great deal in
Of course, there were ibs, too. Those were Ithini captured with the Bakma. But they tended to be considerably less intelligent. It was a detail that had not gone unnoticed.
As soon as they reached ic-22’s cell, the scientist stepped to a side-door panel. The door itself was opaque—Command didn’t want the aliens staring about. After the scientist pressed a series of buttons, the door slid open. The cell was dimly lit, but it was obvious that moments ago, it had been completely dark. ic-22 was barely awake, and turned its head to the men. Then it sat up.
The Ithini, or ‘grays,’ as they were commonly referred to, were stereotyped by most citizens as being cute. Torokin, on the other hand, found the Ithinis to be the eeriest of all the species. Their large, black, bulbous eyes sat slanted on their oversized heads. Their bodies, frail to the point where they looked anorexic, were covered in tight, off-white skin. It felt like rubber to the touch.
While not overly dexterous, they walked with a gangly gait. They walked as if they were tall—odd, considering that the average Ithini measured barely five feet in height.
They were telepathic, at least to an extent. They had the ability to ‘connect,’ as they called it. It allowed them to understand concepts and feelings, but only so far. There was no evidence that they had the ability to read minds thought for thought, transfer exact ideas, or manipulate will. They merely adjusted their frequencies to match others’, which gave them a puzzling inclination to comprehend. It made little sense.
“ B’nik ya`asua,” the scientist said as he entered the cell.
The Ithini stared silently.
Torokin could see his own reflection in the alien’s eyes. It was impossible to tell if an Ithini was tired. Their faces were almost always stoic. They did display occasional emotions—fear, excitement, curiosity. But their personalities in general were subtle, if not at times completely void.
“ Will you speak with us today?” the scientist asked.
The alien did nothing.
Torokin folded his arms as he watched the scientist sit down in a chair. The cell door behind them was opened, but it didn’t matter. There was no way the Ithini could escape.
“ He doesn’t want to connect,” the scientist said. “He would have done so by now.”
Torokin rubbed his eyes, then leaned against the wall. “Have you spoken to this alien before?”
“ Yes, I have. Several times.”
“ Ask him what your name is.”
The scientist turned to the Ithini. “Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
Several seconds of silence passed without response.
“ Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
“ Does he know your name?”
The scientist sighed. “Yes, he does. I don’t think he understands. He didn’t connect.”
“ You’re speaking in his language. How can he not understand?”
The scientist tried again. “Tsi-t`an, jie’a`ntik?”
There was nothing.
“ The Ithini are a stubborn lot, aren’t they?” The new voice came from outside the cell. It was a British one. When Torokin turned around, he was genuinely surprised at who he saw.
It was Benjamin Archer, the newly-named judge.
“ When they connect, you can speak to them in gibberish,” Archer said, “and it seems like they know what you’re saying. But when they won’t…you might as well chat with a wall.” The champagne-blond judge smiled warmly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Judge Torokin.”
Torokin surveyed the new judge. “You are up late tonight. For what reason?”
“ Today I became a judge,” Archer answered, restraining a grin. “I’m a tiny bit excited.” As he stepped into the cell with the others, he motioned toward the alien. “While I was at London , I worked a great deal in
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