//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Communication // Story: The Sphinxian Equine // by computerneek //------------------------------// A full week has passed.  I have not yet used my explosives, instead working on crafting additional materials.  I have managed to construct myself a stone furnace in this tree, with sufficient shielding that I should be able to smelt iron in it without risking burning the tree down.  I have also spent some time familiarizing myself with my wings; I have measured my maximum accelerative impetus. I should be able to escape most any situation. The smaller, smarter hexapedal creature has not returned.  I have detected it- or another of its kind, I’m not sure- regularly present in the trees nearby, presumably watching; I have not investigated.  My intent is not to scare them away, but only to maintain the security of my operation. If they wish to approach me during my waking hours, and are interested in helping out, there is much than an extra pair of hands- or many, even- could do at this stage. Today, I will begin blasting operations.  I have searched the area; the only thing that should be even remotely affected by vibrations from the blasts is acres and acres of forest, with- confirmed- no settlements of the smaller, smarter hexapedal creatures. During and immediately after my blasting operations, I heard- and spotted- multiple air-breathing vehicles flying overhead.  I have not been able to catch a visual of the technologically advanced race themselves, though judging by the size of the hatches on these vehicles, they are substantially larger than the smaller, smarter hexapeds, and smaller than the monstrous one I took down so long ago.  As a matter of fact, they must be roughly human-sized. At least, that’s how big their doors are. I have not exposed myself to them or their sensors.  They may have seen me anyways, but may not know what they saw- or even that they were seeing anything. The smaller, smarter hexaped seemed both startled and frightened by the blasts- and after that day, there are now at least a dozen of them constantly watching my camp, sometimes actually chittering with curiosity, and usually scattered about the branches in anywhere from a half circle to a full circle around my operation. At this time, two full days have passed since those operations.  I have smelted much of my iron, and fabricated basic iron tools. I am in the process of mining out more iron with my new pickaxe when I pick up a new sound with one of my massive ears. After embedding the head of the pick in the rock once again, I this time leave it there, stepping out of the small cave to look, ears pointed.  I pause, and wait for a few seconds, listening to these sounds; yes, that sounds like boots on leaves, not paws or anything else. I can also feel the distinctive hum of a vibratory weapon. One quick motion of my wings is all it takes to put me in the trees, once I retrieve the tool.  I land on one of the massive connecting branches, depositing my pick into it, then bolt sideways and upwards into the upper branches, hiding myself from view. I glance sideways, at the smaller, smarter, and very startled hexaped staring at me from two feet to the side, then back down.  They’ve shown a non-hostile inclination. Before long, it calms down again, and gazes curiously in the same direction I’m looking in. With the sudden increase in subspace com traffic involved in putting my biological segment in a high-alert status, I notice something else:  My subspace tranceiver, the one in my biological segment, is detecting a range of additional signals. They’re way down on the short-range section of the spectrum, rather than the indefinite-range channels I’m using- but they’re definitely there.  And unlike indefinite-range signals, short-range signals can be traced. …  Unfortunately, they’re not coming from the boots.  No- all these signals are coming from the smaller, smarter hexapeds around me, one signal- on each of two channels- each. Hold one.  I double check the channel addresses. Turns out the subspace transceiver array installed in my biological segment is much more sensitive than the ones they install in Bolos; these two channels aren’t even proper communication channels.  They’re so low on the spectrum that the biological mind automatically emits them- one of them, at least- carrying their emotions. As I recall, Concordiat engineers experimented with that kind of equipment and the potential to use that for communication, but in the end, it was simply too short-ranged…  and ineffective, since no biological ever known could receive those same signals. It did become useful for locating survivors in the event of a building collapse, though that was really its only use. The other channel, the ones Terrans never sent on, is only slightly higher than this, still in the never-used range.  And, judging by the patterns I detect on both channels, these hexapeds around me can not only detect but read these signals, on both channels.  They seem to be using the higher one for communication with each other. Interesting.  I set a secondary process on the task of decrypting their telepathic language, so I can understand and communicate with them, should the need arise.  My transmitters should be capable of, on the higher, communication band, a signal roughly six orders of magnitude greater than any I am detecting- giving it a maximum communication range, on the same equipment, of almost two hundred miles.  Maximum detection range should be roughly a hundred miles further, though parsing of the transmission content would range from difficult to impossible over such distances. But that’s maximum range.  It won’t be hard to match their signal strengths- I don’t exactly want to shout their metaphysical ears off. I use this newfound knowledge to search for the emotion transmissions and, if any, communication signals coming from that which approaches my operating site. I find nothing.  Nothing useful, at least; the emotion transmissions are unfamiliar, as I have no experience with such, and there are no communication signals.  I do, however, manage to decrypt the locals’ telepathic language; they’re all curious what it is that I’m looking for. Suddenly, one of the ones closest to the approaching entity chimes in.  “It’s the two-legs!” he calls out to the rest. “She must have heard them coming!” Two-legs?  I suppose they could be Terrans, then.  If so, it would explain the boots. “Really?” the one highest up asks, roughly eighty feet away.  “If she did, from that far out, she almost certainly knew we were here all along.  Are you sure she didn’t react to something we didn’t notice?” What comes back is the telepathic approximation of a shrug. The one next to me chuckles gently on the line.  “Does that mean, Short Tail, that we’re allowed to reveal ourselves to her?” That high-up one snorts audibly.  “And you ask that, Looks Carefully, while you’re lying not even a single People’s length away from her?” “What?  She’s the one that came here!  I didn’t reveal myself, she found me!” “And you didn’t run?” “What could would running do, but draw attention to myself?” “You could have escaped!” “No I couldn’t.  Didn’t you see how fast she moved in midair just getting up here?  She could have outpaced me easily!” “You still could have tried!  Or hidden again!” “No need to fight about it,” I mutter onto the line. The effect is instant.  Every last one of them goes silent in what I can only assume is shock. It’s Looks Carefully, the one lying next to me, that finally breaks the silence, though she still sounds really shocked.  “You… you were listening?” I shrug my wings, and answer casually.  “Towards the end, yeah. Kinda hard to miss that much noise.” She doesn’t respond, still staring at me. “Um, Golden Builder,” one of the male-feeling ones across the clearing begins.  Interesting how easy it is to tell the gender from the emotional band. “You’re…  not going to eat us, are you?” Looks Carefully chitters with laughter next to me.  Judging by the emotional reactions of all the creatures around me, that name- ‘Golden Builder’- refers to me. I turn my head to lock eyes with the asker, and bare my teeth at him, adding a little hiss for good measure.  “Do I look like a carnivore to you?” “Uh…” Several of them start laughing, and Looks Carefully nearly falls out of the tree with her laughter. I turn back to the approaching boots; they’re almost close enough for me to see by now.  I’ve been able to identify the sound of their breathing; judging by the footfalls, it seems that first hexapedal creature was accurate, and these are two-legged creatures coming.  Three of them, as a matter of fact. They step into view.  They appear to be Terrans.  One of them is holding a vibratory bush knife, two of them a handgun of some kind.  The first has a similar handgun to the other two, holstered on his hip. They’re definitely decently armed; the two with their sidearms drawn are holding their weapons down, but ready. Looks Carefully tilts her head, after a burst of recognition comes from her emotions.  “Why are the Forestry Rangers here?” she asks. “Forestry rangers?” I ask. “Yeah,” she answers.  “It’s the two-leg organization responsible for protecting our forests- and us- from other two-legs.” “That would be it, then,” I state.  “They heard my blasting operations a couple days ago, and came to investigate- they probably think it was other Terrans.” “Well, you seemed to know what you were doing, if Runs Quickly is to be believed.” I nod.  “Well yeah.  The physics of an explosion are pretty easy- and when you know the strength and volatility of the charge, it’s pretty easy to be safe with it.” “You almost sound like them,” she observes. I nod.  “Yeah, probably.  I may have lost all my stuff, but I did come from a civilization that I suspect was more advanced than them.” As I say that, another subspace com signal draws my attention:  It’s another trash bot, way out by my war hull, on the short range, traceable bands.  It’s tracing its way to the first trash bot, to take up its duty after its failure. Convenient.  I take control of it, using the traceable signal from my own comms as well as from my first trash bot, to guide it directly to my hull and resume work on the pit.  Dust accumulation has reduced my average solar capacity to almost exactly match usage- but that’s changing soon. “Huh,” she finally states.  “Maybe it’s a good thing Laughs Brightly and Golden Voice are visiting the Harrington home?” Several of them look in her direction. “What?” Short Tail asks.  “When did that happen?” “Earlier today,” she states simply.  “Hears Far mentioned it in passing.” She glances at me.  “That’s my brother, by the way.” “Ahh,” I answer, nodding slightly.  “I take it Laughs Brightly and Golden Voice are of your kind, then?” “Yes, of the People.” “And the Harrington home?” “Two-legs.  Which, actually, we can talk to, with sign language.” “Sounds like a perfect opportunity,” one of the ones across the circle mutters. Looks Carefully blinks.  “Yeah, it does. Want to come meet them?”  She starts rising as she asks. “Sure, but in a minute,” I inform her.  “I don’t want to startle these Rangers into making a mistake everyone’s going to regret.”