Chapter 4: Locked up and Escape

Initially, Carl had thought space would bring adventures, but was disappointed to hear that him moving around a lot would bring unwanted attention. Hermes had very carefully explained that anyone who knows anything about Thermians would notice Carl isn't a Thermian, even with other clothes. Apparently Thermians were incapable of having their own opinions, and most of them had exactly the same personality. Humour wasn't their strong point either. They were very much blank slates. Compared to them, Carl was almost exciting. As it turned out the whole Thermian thing was more or less in case of emergencies, where they couldn't avoid running into other people. To avoid this altogether, Hermes had explicitly forbidden Carl from ever leaving the apartment. It seemed a bit much to Carl who within hours had gotten bored. None of the things Hermes did to entertain himself seemed suitable for humans. The technology was far too advanced, drinks were far too strong, and what resembled a TV had nothing on it in a language that Carl could understand. Instead he was left to his thoughts. Like many other people of Earth, Carl could never get along with his own mind. Although he hadn't had a particularly hard life, he didn't like the things his mind came up with. It was already hard enough on Earth, on an alien planet it was made even worse. Hermes didn't seem to notice Carl's unrest. He was too busy floating on an invisible bed, giggling loudly. Carl wished Hermes would stop and for once give some reassurance. There were so many things Carl worried about. Was there anything here he could actually eat? How long would he have to stay here? Wouldn't anyone notice Hermes had a guest staying over for quite a long time? But more importantly, how would Carl ever be able to stay sane, stuck in the apartment. He would have to escape some day, somehow, he just didn't know how.

As they days went by, here several hours longer than on Earth, Carl grew more and more impatient. He had already come up with a plan on how he would be able to leave, but it depended on Hermes leaving and there being someone who wanted to take him with them. Hermes didn't seem like he would ever leave though, and still managing to have a little too much fun. Every day seemed to be a vacation to him. Comercia not being the vacation paradise it used to be didn't stop him. Meanwhile Carl could do very little to entertain himself, even if he had started to learn a bit of the more common language used in the region. He had realized he might have trouble finding someone to get him away from there if he couldn't speak the language properly, so to occupy his time he did everything he could to learn as much as possible of the language. It had turned out easier than he expected, as actually speaking the language wasn't that hard at all, as long as your vocabulary was big enough. He just wished he wouldn't ever have to write, as he had no idea what kind of writing system they had here.

Then, finally came the day when Hermes stopped everything he was doing, put on a hat of some sort and said he had some errands to run, and wouldn't be back until much later. Before he left, he made sure to point out just how important it was that Carl remained in the apartment at all times. Carl just nodded impatiently.

“Well, see you later then!” Hermes exclaimed and disappeared out the door. Finally Carl would have his chance to escape. And after what seemed like ages of learning a new language, he could proudly say that he spoke the most common alien language of what he hoped was a really large region. For safety reasons, he made sure not to leave the apartment until after a few minutes had gone by. Soon he found himself outside again, and realized he had no idea where to go. All he could see was the forest of billboards, as well as all the street vendors, if you could really call them street vendors seeing as there was no real street. Then not far from there, he spotted a ship with a big opening in the side, in front of which a bunch of aliens stood in line. Carl didn't think he had seen the ship before. He would certainly have remembered if it had been there when they arrived. So, there was a good chance it was only there temporarily and by extent a chance to get away from Comercia.

Carl hurriedly approached the ship, which turned out to be quite a bit larger than he had anticipated. It was enough to hold a small crew, as well as cargo. The hole in the side turned out to be the open back end of the ship, and standing on a ramp sticking out from the ship was an odd looking tall fellow, with too many eyeballs to count. In what was more a claw than a hand, he was holding what appeared to be a small glass pad. He seemed to be writing on it. Carl had a vague memory of Hermes using something similar at some point. Without realizing it, Carl had joined the line leading up to the ramp, which slowly got shorter and shorter. He wasn't even sure what he was standing in line for. He couldn't read the language used, and everyone seemed to assume that everyone in line knew what they were doing. Then he was suddenly at the front of the line, standing before the odd looking alien.

“Name?”

Carl had never thought he would be speechless, but here he was, without a word coming out of his mouth.

“Well?”

“Ca. My name is Ca.”

“Thermian eh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

The alien locked every single one of his eyes on Carl, possibly to analyse him. Then he spoke again, and Carl realized he wasn't as good at the language as he thought. He could hear the word for 'Expedition', but not much else. When Carl didn't answer, the alien peered at him, and said another row of words that Carl didn't understand. He only picked up the word translator. Then in one quick move the alien slapped something on the back of his neck, and for just one moment, a sharp pain shot through his spine and into his head.

“That should do it. Seems like you didn't know our language as well as you thought. So I applied an Automated Translator, which essentially instantly teaches you the language. Now... What is your reason for wanting to join this expedition?”

Carl was so startled by what the alien had just done that he wasn't quite paying attention.

“Look, there are a lot of people behind you, so could we please hurry this up?”

Carl finally looked back at the alien. The only problem was, he didn't know what to answer. He didn't even know what the expedition was all about. For all he knew, he was about to join an expedition to hunt down humans. Without really thinking it through he finally came up with an, at least according to him good reason for not knowing what the expedition was about.

“To be honest. I just saw the line from a distance and thought I'd come over to see what was going on, and then I somehow ended up in the line. So, I can't really say that I know anything about this expedition.”

The alien looked disapprovingly at Carl, but was still nice enough to explain.

“Well, we're a mining company looking for minerals, and we need a new crew member, since one of us decided to quit a couple of days ago.”

Carl decided it was time to be completely honest.

“How would you feel if I said I just really needed to get away from here, no matter the cost?”

“I'd say that would probably be a great idea. Comercia is a horrible place.”

“Well, I'd like to join you, because anywhere is better than here... And I'd make it worth your while.”

The alien looked like he was considering something.

“Are you sure you're a Thermian?”

Carl could feel his cheeks redden. He knew full well that he probably stood out far too much, and it would probably only get worse from now on. But he had to stand by his disguise for now.

“It's a complicated story, I didn't grow up with Thermians, but I most certainly am one.”

The alien's eyes seemed to linger on Carl for just a little longer before he returned to the glass pad.

“All right then. If we decide to bring you along, we'll find you later today...”

“No you don't understand!” Carl almost shouted, “You have to bring me along, this is my only chance to get away from here. My friend insists on keeping me locked up for some reason, and today was my only chance to get out.”

The alien raised a few of his eyebrows.

“What kind of a screwed up friend do you have that keeps you locked up!?”

“It's complicated...”

“You know what, it's not really my decision. I'll have to ask captain Druhm.”

“Yes, do that, go ask captain Druhm.”

The alien almost looked offended, and probably wasn't used to be ordered around by some stranger. But, he still went to find the captain.

A few minutes later, a six legged and four armed creature covered in what appeared to be old platings from space ships appeared. Carl assumed it was old platings from space ships, as he recognized a logo he had also seen on a billboard advertising a new line of personalized ships. The captain's three eyes had locked on Carl before he had even left the shadows of the ship's interior.

“So, you want to get off the planet?” he said, as he stepped forward. “Do you have any special skills, or maybe desirable attributes?”

Carl could almost feel his jaw drop as he stared at the captain.

“Aside from looking completely dumbfounded...” the captain continued, with more than a tone of sarcasm.

“Uh... I'm not sure...” Carl said, trying to think of something. “I guess some friends have called me brave.”

Captain Druhm looked at Carl with what looked like an expression of uncertainty on his face. Without saying another word, he walked up to Carl and started inspecting him, like he would with a ship.

“You look like you can take care yourself. The question is, how would you do on your own, looking for artefacts?”

“Artefacts?” Carl asked, with a tone of confusion in his voice, “I thought you were just mining for minerals.”

Druhm coughed, as if to say he couldn't talk about it openly.

“You better come with me inside, and I'll explain.” he said, and turned around, not waiting for Carl, who had to run to keep up with Captain Druhm.

The mining ship seemed simple in comparison to the Spearhead. It had one main corridor, going from the cargo room at the back, and up to control room. On the sides of the corridor were a few rooms, most of them occupied. Druhm pulled Carl into something reminiscent of an office, with a desk and two chairs.

“So...” Captain Druhm began, “You've probably figured out that we aren't really looking for minerals.” Carl nodded, inattentively, as he sat down on one of the chairs that Druhm had pointed towards as they had entered the room.

“The truth is, we're looking for something much more important, something that will have a much greater impact on all our lives than just some minerals. What we're looking for is...” Druhm pulled out what looked like an old painting. A painting of a large table made of stone.

“The Altar of Truth...” Captain Druhm paused for effect, and then proceeded to walk back and forth in what little space he had in the office. “With this, we can find out all the secrets of the Universe, everything we would ever want to know. The Altar of Truth would grant us all incredible power...”

For a short moment the captain seemed to be far away in his thoughts, his eyes looking blankly into nothingness, and then he shook his head to bring himself back to reality.

“There's just one problem. Finding the Altar of Truth isn't exactly easy. Some have called it absolutely pointless. Some people don't even think it exists. But I know it does, and the first clue to finding it is right here.” Druhm picked up a book from the desk, and gave it to Carl, who grew more and more confused by the lack of advanced technology. “This log describes a previous journey to the altar, where it was supposedly found. It explains how you need certain artefacts to unlock the 'correct path'. That's where you come in. We need you to help us find a few of these artefacts, if you'd be willing to. Of course, if you'd prefer, you can always stay here.”

“I'll do it.” Carl said, without hesitating. He didn't care what he would have to do, anything would be better than watching Hermes do weird stuff all day.

“Well then... uh...”

“Ca.”

“Well then Ca, although, let's be honest here, you're no more a Thermian than I am.”

“But I am!”

Captain Druhm gave out a roaring laugh.

“And I'm a Minitian!” Carl laughed nervously, although he wasn't quite sure what a Minitian was.

“Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, although they're sure to figure it out on their own anyway. You're as human as you can get, there is no doubt about that. But, rest assured, I won't turn you in. Never liked the government. Anyway 'Ca', we'll be leaving within the hour, so if there is anything you want to take care of, you should do that now.”

After leaving the ship, Carl decided it was a good idea to leave at least some kind of message before disappearing and so headed back to the apartment, which was still empty, aside from the strange furniture. As he entered the apartment, he looked around, desperately trying to find something to write on. Then he noticed the glass pad, lying on the floor, almost as if it was no longer desirable. Carl picked it up and pressed the only two buttons he could find in hopes that they would turn it on. At first it seemed to have no effect, and it remained blank for a few seconds. Moments later, Carl was looking at nonsense writing, which he assumed was one of Hermes pointless poems. To Carl's great satisfaction the interface turned out to be quite simple, and he soon found out how to make a new note. With his new gained ability to understand the most common language around here, he effortlessly wrote a short message explaining where he was going and why and made sure to end it with good bye. He had no idea when he would see Hermes again, and he didn't really care any more. He took one last look at the apartment before he finally left and ran as fast as he could back to the ship, where he was greeted by the captain, as well as large group of disappointed onlookers.

“Are you ready to go?” the captain asked, leading Carl into the ship.

“As ready as I can get.”