Earth Fathers Are Weird (Earth Fathers #1) - Lyn Gala Page 0,4
had to do a little mental translating to make sense of that. “Yes. Current language is English.”
“English. Confirmed. What I assist you?”
Max looked at Heetayu. Since he had two front-facing eyes, Max could tell that the alien was watching him; however, he didn’t offer any suggestions. Max only needed one kind of assistance. “I need to find transportation back to my planet.”
“Which planet claim you as yours?” The computer asked.
“My planet means the planet where I was born. I don’t own it.”
“No smart. Logic.” Heetayu’s quiet voice might have been an admonition for Max to be more logical or it could have been sympathy for the frustration of dealing with a computer. Who knew. However, Max took a deep breath and tried to focus on achieving his goal. “Do you know the ship I came in on?”
“First noted coming from the....” The name of the ship translated as a child’s scream. “... fought the Nish illegals... law ... an inhabited planet exterior... trading network.”
Max could have cried. Heetayu had understood some part of Max’s request, and he had explained why the aliens had come to Earth. Maybe. Max assumed that broken sentence implied that the ship that had taken Max captive had been chasing criminals called Nish. Either that or Max had been on a ship with the Nish. None of that mattered; finding Earth did. “Do you have the location of that planet where they were fighting?”
There was a moment of hesitation, and Max’s heart stopped. If he couldn’t tell anyone where Earth was, he couldn’t find his way home.
After a pause, the computer offered: “Planet...” before ending with a squeal.
“Planet Earth,” Max corrected it.
“Updating database—local designation Earth. Transportation queried.” The computer paused. “Three ships responding...” More wails.
Max was getting tired of the screeching. “I don’t understand the last part of that.”
Heetayu pointed at a dark square. “Touch.”
Max suspected Heetayu was either a tourist guide or a social worker. He touched where directed and alien symbols appeared. “I can’t read that,” Max said.
“Touch.” Heetayu pointed to a symbol in the lower left corner. The text shimmered and then English words appeared. Flyer was followed by a set of alien figures. Erogingingin was followed by another. Then three lines listed Uber with figures following. Max assumed that the aliens had assumed uber was the generic English term for taxi service. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen.
“I don’t understand local currency,” Max said.
Heetayu lowered his head again. “Currency. Question.”
“That’s what I’m asking. Currency. Question.” Max knew that wasn’t helpful, but he had passed the limits of human frustration and was now exceeding the number of problems a saint could handle without losing his mind. “How do I pay for these ships? How much are they charging? Currency. Economics. Money. How do I get and use money?”
Heetayu touched a number of buttons on the interface and then pointed at the glass square again. “Touch.”
“This is getting old,” Max muttered, but he did as ordered.
“Request currency,” Heetayu told him.
Max was fairly sure that any economic system that worked would be more complex than simply requesting money, but he gave it a try. “Request currency.”
The computer made a long screeching noise, and Max touched the dark screen before his alien helper could prompt him. Three lines showed up. “What are those?” Max asked. None of the titles were translating into English and the numbers were still indecipherable.
Heetayu’s finger hovered over the first line. “Language. Improve translation matrix. English.”
“Yeah, your matrix needs some work,” Max agreed softly. He wasn’t sure he was the man to do the work to improve it. He’d nearly lost his Air Force scholarship over his Spanish grades, and he usually guessed on when to use who versus whom. His English teacher had tried to explain, but Max found it far more complicated than calculus or disassembling an M16. However, if he had to play English teacher to buy a ticket home, he’d grit his teeth and do it. “How much would that pay?”
Heetayu’s answer didn’t translate, leaving Max to rub his temples as his headache intensified. “Let’s try this another way. At that rate, how many years would I have to work to pay for a ticket?” Max wasn’t sure that would translate either. After all, he didn’t have the vocabulary to ask about food costs or housing. However, it would give him a rough idea of the local economy.
Heetayu reached across Max and typed in a number of commands before answering. “Three hundred and seven Earth years.”