Chapter 23. What does Charles want to say?
"No," she said, still smiling friendly. "Our computer must first analyze your language to recognize its patterns. It then learns your language and is able to translate into ours on the fly. To you, it will appear as if we are speaking your language, And you are speaking our language. This makes communication easier." She explained very naturally, as if it was an ordinary thing. In fact, the computing power behind this is so complex that it could almost be called a minor miracle. There are only rare cases when a computer cannot parse a language. After all, language analysis programs are based on patterns from multiple languages.
"I believe it," he replied absently. Apparently, his mind was far away. It's no wonder that there is too much new information flooding into his mind.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Charles," he answered hesitantly. He didn't know these people and didn't know how much information he could reveal to them. But at least they healed him, so they should at least know his name.
"Charles," she repeated, smiling. "Is it your first or last name?"
"First name? Last name?" He looked at her confused. What is this stranger saying? "This is my name," he emphasized again.
"Okay," she nodded, then pointed to herself. "My name is Muse Celia, and I am the chief doctor here." She introduced herself.
Two names. She has two names. Charles noticed this immediately. If she has two names, she must be special. Or in her race, a name consists of two words. In his view, this only makes everything more complicated and inefficient.
The man who had been standing silently behind the lady left his original position and stepped forward. He adjusted his uniform lightly. "My name is Noah. I am the captain of the Federation starship Republic," he introduced himself friendly. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Charles."
Despite the friendly and honest behavior of the captain, Charles turned even paler and could almost think he knew Noah. Then he gathered his emotions again. "Thank you, Captain. Thank you for the rescue." He tried to sound confident. He never wanted these strangers to think he was ungrateful. He must not let them think that he had any doubts about their salvation.
The doctor stepped aside slightly to give the captain more room. Although her patient was still frail and in need of more rest, some questions had to be answered now, and she knew that.
Noah's eyes were still on Charles. He also understands the health status of his guests. Dr. Celia has reported the situation to him in detail. Whatever Charles had been through, his injuries were a clear indication of the hardship he must have endured. But Noah has to figure out what's going on. This way he can determine if his ship and crew are in danger. "Mr. Charles, we found your rescue capsule in space. You were unconscious at the time. We also saw your injuries. Which planet are you from? What happened?"
Charles looked into the captain's eyes, recalling everything he had experienced, and his eyes instantly became gloomy. Although it was only a moment and passed quickly, it made Noah feel a chill. Sadness and pain reflected in Charles's eyes, endless pain. There is also a deeper sadness and despair. Because even though he was rescued and his wounds healed, he didn't seem optimistic. It was as if there was no life left in him. The psychological damage he sustained was not as easily healed as bone and muscle.
Charles wasn't sure what to tell the captain. Can the captain understand what he is going through? He looked like he had never experienced anything terrible. Here, generosity seems to be the norm and everything seems to be plentiful. How did he explain to the captain what he had experienced in the Demon Flame Labor Camp, as well as his feelings and pain? There is no way to explain it in words. Words cannot describe such horror.
"I am a slave to the demonic flames," he began. For most people he knew, that explanation was enough. But for these people, it's clearly not enough. "A slave-trading race," he added, to provide more context. While this caused shock in the captain's eyes, it was not nearly enough to trigger the fear normally associated with demonic flames. "I was forced to work in their mines. We had to mine the materials they needed to build their spaceships. It was horrific." Charles fell silent. He must deal with horrifying memories that he has struggled to forget.
Celia glanced at Noah. "You should come back later, let him rest now," she said softly.
"No," Charles answered before the captain could speak. "No, it must be said now. What I have to say is too important to wait. I must say it now." He paused, as if trying to regain his composure. What he experienced not only took a toll on his body, but also took a toll on his spirit.
"I think it can wait," Noah advised, even though he was eager to know what Charles was going to say. But he also saw that their guest was so weak that he could barely speak long sentences.
"No, it must be said now," gasped Charles, almost soundlessly. His stubbornness seems to be the only thing keeping him alive.
Impatiently, Noah looked at the doctor and nodded slightly, indicating for her to comfort the man. Before Charles could speak, Celia pressed a syringe of soothing agent to his neck, and the drug quickly spread throughout his body. Charles only had time to look confused before falling onto the bed and falling into a deep sleep.
Charles tossed restlessly in his sleep. He is haunted by nightmares about his work as a slave, the lashings of electric whips, the countless dead and the endless screams that echo through the tunnels. He dreamed of the humiliation and despair he experienced there. And he also dreamed of his lover Joan. His beloved Joan, the Joan he had to keep there. He had to save her, but the fear of going back there again was too great. What could a man as small and insignificant as himself do?
All of this made him stir in his sleep. He panted, rolling from left to right and back again. His movements were so violent that Dr. Celia feared he would fall off the recliner where he was still asleep. Computers monitored his vital signs, and his heart rate was too high for a sleeping person. His pulse was racing, but he didn't wake up. In the end, doctors had to sedate him. That way he could at least get the recovery he needed.
The drug had an effect. Charles' movements slowed and eventually stopped altogether. He lay there calmly, breathing evenly. But beneath the closed eyelids, his eyes were still trembling violently. The nightmare is clearly not over yet.
A few hours later, Charles slowly woke up. For the first time, he was still a little confused and didn't know where he was. It's very bright here, not like a mine at all. So much so that every time he thought he had died and came to another world. Then he remembered that he was on this ship. He also remembered what he wanted to do. His pulse quickened with excitement. He tried to sit up but couldn't. But his actions attracted attention. A nurse came quickly to him. Charles had forgotten her name, and he could not make out the letters on the badge she wore on her white coat. They were just so unfamiliar.
"You need to rest," the nurse said kindly, pushing him back into the backrest.
"No," he protested hoarsely. He hadn't had a drink of water in hours and his tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. But he couldn't let this bother him now. "I have to talk to the captain," he said with difficulty.
"You haven't fully recovered yet. You must continue to rest," the female nurse advised patiently.
"No time." He replied simply and rudely. "I must speak to the captain immediately."
"You don't have enough strength." Her patience seemed endless.
But Charles must admit privately that she was right. She just put her hands on his shoulders gently, but he couldn't even straighten up a little. He had no strength at all. Just can't let that be a problem now. "Am I your prisoner?" he gasped. "Your captain said that I was a guest, but it was obvious that he was lying to me." And when he said this, he suddenly realized that this was really the truth. He is a prisoner. certainly. He was simply fooled by the captain's words. But as easily as they silenced him, it showed their true intentions. No one would heal another person so selflessly. He was a prisoner again.
However, the woman's reaction to his accusation was completely unexpected. She stepped back, looking shocked by his accusation. Then she turned around and called Dr. Celia. Only a moment later, the doctor was standing next to him, looking down at him. Her blonde hair made her still look like an angel, although Charles now knew she was certainly not an angel.
"You are not a prisoner," the doctor said quietly, her words ringing so true. "But you're not strong enough to carry on a long conversation."
"But it's important," he stressed again, albeit more kindly than before.
She looked at him and seemed to understand what he meant. After a brief hesitation, she nodded. "Okay. I'll find the captain. You just lie here for now."
Charles nodded reluctantly. What can he do? He was too weak now to do much resistance. And Dr. Celia kept her promise. After a long wait, she helped him sit up and gave him some strange-tasting drinks, which, according to doctors, helped his recovery. Then the captain came in. He looked authoritative, and the room seemed smaller when he entered. He looked at Charles and Celia and walked towards them.
"Mr. Charles," he greeted kindly. "You seem to be doing much better."
Charles looked askance at Celia. "Somewhat better, but I'm still far from recovered."
Noah just nodded. What else could he say besides those platitudes? But he didn't want to hear that now. "Dr. Celia told me that you wanted to see me urgently," he then asked pointedly.
"Yes, that's right." Charles' voice became firm again. "I have to tell you something."
When he didn't continue, curiosity flashed in the captain's eyes. But since Charles didn't continue, Noah could only ask, "What are you going to tell me?"
"About the labor camp I'm in, the mine. There are more prisoners there. You must free them. Do it quickly. Otherwise, they will all die miserably. Please," he implored the captain. "Please rescue them."
The captain looked at Celia with slight surprise. Why did Charles think they would do this? They couldn't leave with the Republic to rescue a labor camp. They simply don't have this ability. Morally they may have a duty to do so, but the Federation has a principle of tolerance for different customs. They can't just go and rescue some labor camp. That would be a provocation, tantamount to a declaration of war. Of course, it is impossible for the Federation to tolerate such treatment of other living beings, which violates the principle of individual freedom. But there are other ways to solve this problem. So, even if he wanted to, he couldn't just set out and rescue the labor camps. They know nothing about their opponents. Apart from Charles's account and the wreckage found a few days ago, they knew nothing about the Demon Flame. How high is the development level of Demon Flame? What is their technical level? What are their ethics? What rules do they follow? Before his first contact with the Demon Flame, Noah definitely didn't want to be the one to immediately start a war. He will only believe it if he is sure that a peaceful solution can be achieved.
"First, tell us more about this labor camp and the Demon Flame," the captain decided. In doing so, he delayed the final decision and gained time. Use this time to gather more information to make informed decisions. Then he turned to the doctor. "Can Mr. Charles leave the medical station?"
Celia glared at him and said accusingly, "No, not really. He's too weak." She knew the captain wouldn't accept this reason. And she also knew in her heart that it was important for Charles to stand up. Now that Charles has regained some strength through rest and infusions, she's preparing to use a syringe to help him stand up. But she didn't want to make it easy for the captain.
"He has to go to the conference room," Noah said, making priorities clear. "Can he do it? You will always stay with him and observe his condition."
"Captain, he is severely undernourished. He is too weak," Celia objected.
"I can't help him until I don't have more information." Noah looked nervous. He certainly understands that doctors must protect their patients. But there is a line when it comes to the safety of the crew and the ship. “He wanted to free the labor camps,” Noah continued. "So he has to talk more. The entire leadership team has to be told."
"I'm strong enough," Charles interjected. He gestured, straightening his shoulders and suppressing the slight pain he felt. He needs Noah's help. If he wants to save Joan, he needs Noah's help. "I can do it," said Charles.
Celia rolled her eyes. Now Charles is contradicting her. "No, you can't," said Celia.
"I must try," Charles replied, surprisingly firm.
The doctor sighed. "Okay," she finally relented. "But after the meeting, you must rest immediately," Celia added.
"Okay, okay," Charles nodded eagerly.
Celia took out the prepared syringe and pointed it at Charles' neck. He received the injection. "This will give you enough strength to get through the next few hours. But it's only a short-term effect, it won't cure you," she cautions.
Noah immediately entered the doctor's office and booted up the screen. "All leading officials head to the conference room. The meeting will begin in ten minutes."
