Taken 01 - Lost and Found by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Adventure, Kidnapping, Space Opera, Life on Other Planets, Space Ships, Alien Abduction, Space Flight
ISBN: 9780345461278
Google: qcrwq2to-5YC
Amazon: 0345461274
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2004-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Braouk perked up from where he was leaning against a cylindrical frame nearly as big as himself. “What mean you, small-mouthed in darkness, sputtering mysteries?”

Twisting her body effortlessly, she looked over at the towering Tuuqalian. “Your people are space-going, are they not?” Braouk gestured back affirmatively. “Your people are brave, and committed, and in their simpleminded way sentient, are they not?”

The Tuuqalian’s tone sank ominously lower. “How long will you ask of me that which you already know, gray splotch on the shipscape?”

Walker and George hunkered down against the wall beside the port. Though they had come to trust Braouk implicitly, the giant was still utterly alien. The line between his controlled rages and his uncontrolled ones was very slim, and neither man nor dog wished to be caught between them.

Fortunately for Sque, she was too egotistical to be scared. “When bravery pushes up against sentience, common sense comes to the fore. It is to be assumed that your space-traversing vessels are not perfect. Accordingly, it must also be assumed that they have built into them systems and devices designed to cope with emergencies ranging from the simplest to the most extreme. I am referring, self-evidently, to means for evacuation.”

She went silent, as if this explained everything. Determined to interpret the implication without having to have it spelled out for him as if to a child, Walker strained to make the correct inference. To his surprise, he actually did so.

“Lifeboats! You’re talking about lifeboats. Or at least some kind of secondary vessel that can be detached from the main craft.” For some reason, George’s look of admiration meant more to him than Sque’s diffident gesture of approval.

“The humble biped from a simple world is correct. My too-rapid but still marginally adequate examination of the minutiae of the control box in the corridor tangent to the enclosures revealed to me that this vessel of reasonable size is equipped with as many as four self-contained evacuation craft. It is my intention to seize one, utilize emergency procedures to detach from the main vessel, and flee to the nearest enlightened world that is an affiliate of galactic civilization.”

“Are you a pilot, too?” Walker was more than a little overcome by the sudden possibilities the K’eremu had opened up.

The contemptuous tone returned. As was usual with Sque, it did not have very far to travel. “ ‘Pilot’? Lowly ignorant human, how often must I remind you? Ships intended for use in deep space do not have pilots. Every vessel that is built to travel between the stars is constructed around a central neural cortex whose synthetic life purpose is to guide and maintain the craft of which it comprises such a significant part. No known organic intelligence is capable of performing the necessary permutations with the required speed and accuracy. The K’eremu come close, of course, but choose to devote themselves to higher purposes.”

Braouk embellished the explanation. “Any secondary craft designed to preserve organics in an emergency is equipped with a similar cortex. They are built to do only that.

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