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Updated: May 2, 2025
Into the instrument on his chest he rapped a word of Orconese which was translated instantly into the German. "Verboten!" was the word. Forbidden! The Orconites were not taking any chances with us. It was discouraging, but no more than I had expected. It simply meant that if we were to be interfered with, we should have to do something about the interference. I quickly began to work out a plan.
Out of the small instrument into which our prisoner spoke his hard, rattling words, came a flood of pure German. An instrument for translating spoken Orconese into spoken German. That was what the little box was. "Shut the accursed transmission set off!" came from the box in a clear German which I understood readily. "I will talk. Ask what you want to know. I cannot stand this!"
His mouth twisted with pain, and a look of agony seared his eyes. He burst into fluent Orconese speech. Then he made a swift pass with one hand at the black box on his chest, touched a switch there, and began to rattle his Orconese into the mouthpiece. The result well, one might have known that Leider would have found some ingenious means of making the difficult speech of Orcon easy.
His face still contorted, the Orconese touched a second switch on the box, and indicated that I was to speak at the instrument. I did so, in German. The result was an instant translation into the prisoner's own tongue. The rest was easy. "What is your name?" was my first question. "Hargrib." "What were you and your people trying to do to us with the cable you hitched to our stern?" I asked next.
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