Viewpoint
This was my first published piece of
fiction, printed in the April, 1989 issue of Analog Science Fiction and Fact. As I described in the book introduction of my
People First, IUniverse, 2004,
I never believed in starting with easy markets or short stories, but the
succession of re-writes I had to do taught me a lot about writing. For more
info on my book, see http://www.netreach.net/~abrejcha/dispub.htm
. Influenced by my own disabilities, I used a paraplegic female key character with
Spinabifida (though I have M.S.). And as
for my writing for Analog Science
Fiction and Fact, ( http://www.analogsf.com ) it was the
beginning of a long and productive friendship with a great editor and a great
learning experience. At over 16,000 words, this is also one of my longest (and
best paying) stories I’ve written… actually called a novella.
And like many writers with their first
stories, I was influenced by my own situation and experiences. My origins and psychology training led to the
main character's profession and nationality; my loneliness (I was between
relationships) led to the romance component -- something that is a part of
almost all my stories and led Stan Schmidt once to exclaim: "You don't
need a romance in every story"; and my own disabilities led to the
character of Samantha. Sam was also
based on young girl I met in rehab who
delighted me with her bright attitude and quick wit... And after the story I'll mention something
else she prompted.
And to any who have read the story
before, I wanted to mention -- with embarrassment -- that I missed a major
continuity error in writing the story, Stan missed it also in reading it, and
the normally acute readers missed it (or at least were kind enough not to write
and complain). But the story garnered
several Nebula Award recommendations, and received a Honorable mention in
*
* *
Viewpoint
I.
Glancing around the small and empty room
they had just entered, Ohlson turned on his escort.
"What's this? I thought I was going to meet the project
director?" He knew he was being
nasty, but he felt justified. It was
hard to be nice when you find yourself dragged out of bed in the middle of the
night. After all, he had been up for
almost two solid days and had just managed to sink into a nice coma when
someone had started pounding on the door.
When he finally had dragged himself up to answer -- it took a
little longer once you passed fifty -- it was to find himself faced with a
government reserve activation clause of some kind. Then, while he had mulling that over, he had
been hastily and minimally briefed, given unnecessary free-fall shots and then
summarily shoved onto a shuttle and dragged up to the CircumTerra space
station. Needless to say, he was still
foggy and not in the best of moods.
But the marine seemed to understand and
didn't take notice as he smiled politely.
"Dr. Lee will be with you shortly,
sir, but she wanted you to take a look at the prisoner first. Before you form any impressions from what she
has to say." He went over to a
large monitor on one wall and turned it on.
As an image formed, Ohlson stared in
awe. This was IT, the moment so
many had dreamed about -- humanity's first contact with an alien
civilization. It was even enough to make
him forget that his eyes felt like they were wrapped in sandpaper or that his
tongue needed a shave.
Ashamed of his mental flippancy, but
chalking it up to exhaustion, he studied the alien.
A snail, was his first impression. A large snail, he amended mentally as
he saw that it took up almost a third of the standard cot in the holding cell. A bit surprised (disappointed?), he turned to
the marine with a shrug.
"This is it? One of the dangerous aliens everyone's so
upset about?"
But the sarcasm went unnoticed as the
marine snapped to attention. "Yes
sir!"
Dangerous, indeed! The naked prisoner looked totally helpless;
it didn't even have any arms or legs.
Why so dangerous? Did they crawl
on top of you and smother you?
Then as he stood there, pensively running
his fingers through his stubbornly dense red hair and trying to wake up, he caught
a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to the
screen.
The smooth body was shimmering moistly as
the alien twisted and aimed twin eye stalks at the concealed camera in the
cell. Ohlson noticed that the eyes were
a solid and brilliant blue -- or were they?
He hit the zoom and focused on them.
As he looked closer, he saw that they were actually made up of
overlapping leaves, almost like an old still camera shutter. Disconcertingly, each eye moved its own way, he
saw as one eye apparently lost interest in the spying lens and swivelled away
to look at the cell door.
Ohlson backed off on the zoom and saw
why. A guard had just approached the
heavy armor-glass door gingerly with a tray of what Ohlson guessed was food,
and as he got to the cell he cycled the tray through a small, waist-high
airlock so that the prisoner could reach it.
Two brilliant blue eyes swiveled to aim
themselves intently at the food.
After several minutes, the alien stirred
and moved leisurely off the cot onto the floor with a slow graceful slide that
set beautiful highlights of color rippling across its body. As it approached the airlock, it reared up so
that the front part of its body was just under the waiting tray and Ohlson
realized that what he had taken to be rolls of fat behind the eyes, were
actually slender but agile tentacles.
The tentacles uncoiled, revealing
miniature suction cups on their tips, as they delicately reached out to remove
the tray and place it on the floor, after which the entire body of the alien
humped and moved forward to cover the tray completely. For almost ten minutes, the entire body
pulsed rhythmically and the eye stalks retracted to a fraction of their former
length.
Then, the forepart of the body reared
again to reveal a shiny clean tray which was placed back in the airlock with
precise, controlled ease. Then the
prisoner flowed back up onto the cot and settled down with a final colorful
shimmy which ran from front to back.
For a moment, the eye stalks remained
extended and erect. One eye focused on
the spying camera, the other fixing its stare on the fascinated guard
reclaiming the tray outside the door, and
Ohlson imagined he sensed annoyance in those steady stares. But, after a moment, the eye stalks retracted
and the alien went limp, pulling itself together more tightly. A nap after a good meal?
As absorbed as he had been, he had failed
to hear the door slide open behind him and as he turned away from the monitor,
he found himself facing an attractive younger woman in her late forties. He felt an uneasy stirring in the pit of his
stomach as he recognized her.
Conflicting emotions warred within him, though he couldn't help but
marvel that she should still be as beautiful after so many years.
She had the striking features that were
unique to women of mixed oriental blood, and they were crowned by carefully
groomed black hair, generously streaked with silver that was proudly displayed
instead of hidden under phony coloring.
Her skin was still as flawlessly smooth and tanned as he remembered and
the bearing was the same confident and assured one he had always admired.
Uneasily he extended his hand, wondering
if she remembered him. "Erik
Ohlson, of the Karolinska, excuse me, Caroline Institute..." He started to identify himself and the
Swedish medical center where he worked, but was bruskly interrupted, his hand
ignored.
"I know. I'm Dr. Lee, U.N. Alien Task
Force." From her icily polite tone it
was obvious that she did remember, but refused to acknowledge him. Considering what had happened he couldn't
blame her. But this wasn't the time to
try to explain, even though she was making it very difficult for him. It was obvious that she was unaware that her
stiff and erect bearing made it very plain that her crisply pressed uniform
still covered the same feminine figure he remembered so well.
Trying to ignore it and concentrate on
the reason for his being here, he asked the obvious question. "You're running this program?"
"That's right." She answered with justifiable pride in her
voice. It was quite impressive, being
responsible for a combined United Nations effort to coordinate Alien Contact
Situations -- even though it had been just an exercise in dreaming, till
now. But then the chill crept back in.
"I am. And I don't mind telling you that I do not
approve of bringing in another outsider.
This is a very delicate situation and if word leaked out, it could be
very..."
"Very embarrassing." Damn it, guilt or no guilt, this was getting
him angry. "Dr Lee, I am quite
aware of the fact that you have a blasted gaspy situation here, but I am a psychiatrist
and a psychologist, and I am quite familiar with the concept of confidentiality..."
"I wasn't trying to
imply..." She tried to cut him off
but he ignored her.
"And furthermore: If you drag me all the way up here, out of a
sound sleep, I expect to get treated with at least a little respect,
since you obviously need me more than I need you!"
She flinched, and then nodded stiffly as
a brief trace of color crept into her cheeks.
"True. I apologize, but you'll have to understand
that there is a great deal more at stake here than mere patient
confidentiality." He felt himself
bristling as she refused to yield more than a fraction, but he controlled
himself as she continued.
"But, while I don't approve of the
idea of bringing in another outsider, I had to.
Our Psych expert got sick and she recommended you. The rest of the research team concurred, and
I have to agree. Your qualifications fit
perfectly. That's why we sent for
you."
That was an understatement!
"It helps that you did a service
rotation here at CircumTerra," she went on, "and that you work with
other SETI projects. And,"
grudgingly, "you're one of the top-ranked psychologists in the
world."
As if uncomfortable praising him, she
suddenly changed directions. "How
much did they tell you about it?"
She pointed a slim and neatly manicured finger at the monitor.
"Not much." He shrugged.
"Just that we finally made contact with an alien race. Teams kept contact with them for months via
A/Vid, and then, during the first physical meeting, there was some sort of
misunderstanding. Net result: One dead alien, one dead marine and a station
staffer so traumatized that he's in a coma.
That's it." He glared at the
marine. "And that was only after
consigning body and soul to eternal damnation and tax audits if I told anyone!" Powerful hands clenched briefly.
Lee ignored his bitterness. "Well, we'll brief you further in a
minute, but I wanted to get your unbiased reactions to the alien
first." She speared him with an
expectant look.
She did have beautiful eyes!
Reluctantly he looked back at the
motionless form in the cell and reviewed his impressions. He remembered the way the alien had seemed to
be looking past the camera, at him. Could it be a telepath? Mentally, he filed the idea.
How about physiological data? Something had bothered him, but what? Oh yes.
Evolutionary patterns. If
sentience was the end-product of overcoming and dominating the environment, how
did these aliens evolve? Those tentacles
certainly didn't look very powerful, or dangerous. He just couldn't see the alien's race as the
type of world-dominating beings that would develop an interstellar
culture. Something was missing.
He turned to Lee, who had stood waiting
with surprising patience, and explained his misgivings.
She nodded, unsurprised, and motioned him
to follow. "It's occurred to us,
also. And the research team is finding
other inconsistencies with the Shounna..."
"The Shounna?" He was surprised by the English-sounding
name.
Lee looked embarrassed. "I'm afraid that's my fault."
Ohlson didn't say anything, but just raised
a furry red eyebrow, curious about her reaction.
She broke eye contact, flushing
slightly. "I was looking at the
tapes of the discovery of the Shounna vessel, and as it happens, the astronomer
who first spotted it, was from
Ohlson had to laugh. "Sho' nuff, Shounna... I love it!"
She snapped back defensively. "Well, it's better than calling them The
People, which is what they call themselves!"
"No, I mean it," he said
gently. "It's perfect. Besides, if you prefer, it'll be our
secret." And it won't be the
only one!
"Thanks." She relaxed as she turned to lead the way
down the corridor. And as they walked,
he thought he sensed her thawing as she filled him in on the alien's arrival.
¶
Several hours later,
Ohlson sat at a large table, mentally digesting the tapes and notes he had just
absorbed. Little bits and pieces puzzled
him. For one thing, the aliens were slow. The one Shounna he had seen moved... like a
snail, and all the pictures he had seen showed them riding little scooters that
they controlled somehow. Probably by
wiggling over touch sensitive controls.
Also, they were deaf, and had poor eyesight. Sound was sensed only in terms of any actual
vibrations, though the aliens were extremely sensitive to such. And as for their vision, it was good enough
in the infra-red ranges and the upper end of the human-visible spectrum, but it
was poor in the lower ranges.
How they talked to
each other, was another mystery. From
the tapes he'd viewed, it looked like they needed physical contact. Communication with humans was via computer. Those of the Shounna selected to communicate,
wore small computers strapped to the fore-parts of their bodies, devices
covered with small touch controls of some sort that when pressed produced
English words in a metallic, but clear voice.
The same devices also took spoken English and translated it into something
the Shounna could understand. Vibration,
possibly. The translators were strapped
very tightly to their bearers, and no one had been able to detect any other
output.
Naturally, the translating was by no
means perfect. There were still a lot of
conceptual and linguistic barriers interfering, but it worked better than
anyone had dreamed possible.
Fortunately, the Shounna had been studying a lot of Earth's broadcasts,
including educational programs. That,
combined with some sophisticated computer work on both sides, had provided a
surprisingly good linguistic base for Shounna to English translations. What form the alien language took, was still
a mystery.
Tabling that for the moment, Ohlson
considered his findings thus far. He was
missing something. He had to be! These aliens were deaf, half blind, poorly
armed and armored sluggish snails!
Hardly the stuff of science fiction stories.
He sighed.
Then there was the matter of that fatal
visit to the station. He'd gone over the
tape a dozen times, and it still didn't make sense. So, he'd go over it again. There was something there. He could feel it. He stood up and stretched to get the kinks
out of his back, and then sat down determined to find what he was looking for
as he stabbed the play button again.
He fast-forwarded past the initial
docking. There had been no problems with
the auxiliary structure welded on over the station shuttle's airlock. But the Shounna apparently didn't quite trust
Earth construction, because as the shuttle's lock doors opened, the brown and
blue-striped doors of the other ship remained stubbornly closed for several
minutes before opening.
At first, Ohlson had worried about
possible danger from germs as the air from the two ships mingled -- air
surprisingly similar -- but when he'd asked about that he had been
reassured. Apparently air samples had
already been exchanged and other than a mild flu-like bug that had been easy to
develop a vaccine against, there had been no harmful micro-organism in the
Shounna air, and they had apparently not found anything to worry about in
Earth's air, either.
So, once the big spaceship and the petite
shuttle were joined, the visitors could be brought over and taken to
CircumTerra for their official reception.
Ohlson leaned forward intently and
studied, again, mankind's first alien encounter...
¶
Two burly marines were in the shuttle
lock, careful to remain there, and as the alien airlock doors slid open they
waited as an honor guard. A well
disciplined honor guard, fortunately. It
was obvious that they were not prepared for the sight of the three small aliens
who came rolling out of the cavernous lock-chamber on the other side, squatting
on top of small scooters that looked like two-drawer filing cabinets laid on
end and with fat little rubber tires tacked on.
Strapped to their 'chests', each alien wore a small box -- and nothing
else -- covered with textured indentations.
Scooter and all, they still barely reached chest-high to the waiting
marines. It was obvious that built-up
fear was evaporating, replaced by carefully controlled snickers.
¶
Ohlson stopped the
picture, something nagging in the back of his mind, but he couldn't pin it down
as he stared blankly at the frozen image on the screen. It was just an airlock. Wide cargo doors were visible in the back,
inset with standard height passenger doors for normal use. It was a good logical design of an obviously
well-used vessel.
"Quit wasting
time!" He muttered to himself as he restarted the tape. He sped past the entry, the trip to
CircumTerra and the reception in the hub.
He had studied those until he had them memorized, and there had been
nothing there. Fortunately, every bit of
the visit had been recorded by normal security cameras, or extra ones added for
the occasion.
The critical moment
had been when the visitors were touring the art gallery. Maybe he had missed something there?...
¶
As the aliens and
their escort entered the art gallery, they found themselves watching the set-up
of a new light-sculpture by the station's resident emotive artist, Greg
Mitchell. Mitchell's work obviously
fascinated the aliens, perhaps because of the vivid and brilliant colors
used. Most of them were within the
aliens' visible spectrum.
As Mitchell anxiously made sure that the
sculpture was mounted right, and all the others were admiring it, two of the
aliens drifted close to the display.
Closer and closer to Mitchell... almost touching. And then, two sets of tentacles uncoiled and
shot out like whips to wrap around Mitchell's head as the aliens stopped their
scooters and reared up.
With a tortured scream Mitchell tried to
pull free, just as one of the marines pulled his gun and started pumping bullets
into the closest attacking alien. The
first of the high impact plastic shells tore into the (neck?) by the base of
the tentacles, but other than rocking the alien back and pushing it away from
Mitchell, it had no effect. The next two
shells however, ripped into the body itself and as they did, both Shounna
reared convulsively and went into brief spasms that jerked their tentacles free
from Mitchell and sent them off their scooters to collapse limply on the
floor. After a few seconds, the wounded
Shounna seemed to deflate like a leaking balloons, the shimmering colors of its
skin slowly fading as color-less fluid seeped out through the three ragged
holes in its body. The other one
struggled slowly to climb back onto its scooter.
But reaction from the remaining Shounna
was swift.
The marine who had done the shooting was
suddenly hurled back against the wall as the alien rammed its scooter against
him and the room echoed with an electric crackle as the scooter shot a charge
through the battered body.
The remaining marines pulled their
weapons angrily and were about to start shooting when the station commander
threw himself in front of them and screamed at them to hold their fire, while
at the same time the U.N. Rep was yelling about not starting a war...
¶
God, what a mess! Ohlson shook his head as he stopped the
tape. What was Mitchell screaming? Suddenly optimistic, Ohlson backed the recording
up and listened carefully, dialing in enhancement after enhancement until he
could understand the words. He couldn't
understand it all, but two words were distinct.
"Get out!" Not
"Get away", but "Get out!"
He thought a moment, and then a slow
smile began tugging at the corners of his mouth as he reached for the intercom
button to call the marine escort who had been helping show him around.
"Get Dr. Lee and tell her I want to
see Mitchell again as soon as possible.
And tell her to get in touch with Dr. Kirby at
He reached for the medical report on
Mitchell and double checked. But there
was no mention of any puncture wounds.
Not that he had expected any. His
smile turned to a wide, satisfied grin.
"Så, det är så du gör det!" With a
satisfied exclamation in his native Swedish, he decided that there had
to be some telepathic component there.
Maybe requiring physical contact?
Mitchell was probably a borderline telepath. He was a proven empath, both receptive and
mildly projective, that much was plain from his last Psych-eval. Somehow the dead alien must have sensed this
and, what? Tried to communicate? Blast!
What a botch.
Even as he felt a certain smug satisfaction
over having pieced together part of the puzzle, he was bothered by the
remaining loose bits that refused to fit.
There was more to this. But what?
He watched the rest of the recording
carefully, but there was nothing there.
Just the expected rapid maneuvering by the U.N. Rep, which was met by
strange calm on the part of the remaining aliens. Since a marine had been killed in retaliation
for the shooting, and since the initial 'attack' had been by the visitors --
something the aliens refused to explain or defend, other than to insist that it
was no attack -- the rep won out on her demand that the surviving 'attacker' be
held until a thorough examination could be made. It had been a surprisingly easy victory.
¶
II.
Less than twelve hours
later, a still-exhausted Ohlson kept watch over his patient -- he had only been
able to snatch a brief two hour nap. But
now he was ready to try to indulge his hunch. The artist Mitchell lay curled up
in a fetal ball on the bed in the padded room, his normally deep brown skin
almost grey. Ohlson shook his head at
the sight. Just to satisfy himself, he
probed the tightly curled black hair to examine the skin underneath, but it was
unmarked from what he could see.
He turned to the girl next to him,
privately amazed over how quickly his request had been met. Dr. Kirby had sent up his star pupil, much to
Ohlson's dismay. She was no more than
fifteen or so, and even sitting in her power wheelchair it was easy to see how
badly spinabifida had twisted and distorted her slender body. Yet, she was one of Earth's most powerful
telepaths, the cream of a very small crop, indeed. Not that you could have told from looking at
her. She was just any little girl
beaming happily over the adventure that had brought her up here where few
private individuals could afford to go.
Behind her, with a disapproving frown on
his face, was the middle-aged male nurse Kirby had sent along as guardian and
caretaker. Ohlson ignored the look, even
if he privately agreed, because the stakes were too high to worry about normal
proprieties. Instead, he dropped to one
knee and looked the girl straight in the eye.
"I need you to help me with
something very difficult, Samantha..."
With a teasing smile that lit up her
face, she reached over gently to take one of his hands. "He's suffered some sort of mental
trauma, is in catatonic shock and you want me to dig in and see what I can find
out about what happened. Is that about
right?" At his surprised look she
shook her head, tight black curls bobbing.
"No, no mind reading. Just deductive reasoning. I may be only fourteen..." The nurse coughed. "Well, I'll be fourteen in a couple of
weeks!" Ohlson smiled at the fake
petulance in the voice. This was no mere
child!
"Anyway," she continued. "I may be young, but I'm a damn good
telepath and I can pick up a good deal when I put my mind to it."
"And as for the danger you were
probably going to warn me about," she went on, "Dr. Lee was very
specific, in a vague sort of way, when she told Dr. Kirby about the danger for
anyone helping out. That's why they sent
me." She thrust her jaw out
defiantly.
"'Cause I'm the best!" She saw Ohlson's doubtful look and her green
eyes flashed. "I am. I have the strongest shield and probes of
anyone in my Group." She dared him
to contradict her.
Ohlson was caught off guard, but after a
moment he shrugged and stood up.
"All right, Ms. Cooper.
Here's the situation... Hell, dig it out yourself, that's probably
faster." He looked at her, half
challenging, half nervous. Suddenly he
felt a vague furry tickling in the back of his head somewhere as Samantha's
face grew slack and her eyes closed.
For a moment she sat like that, and then
her eyes snapped open. "Wow! But, I'd better keep my mouth shut or Dr. Lee
will be upset." Then she grinned
impishly. "She is pretty
though."
Ohlson started and then shook his
head. "Touché! But I only gave you permission to look at
what happened to him." He nodded in
Mitchell's direction. Then, seeing the
girl's expression, he relented with a laugh.
"Don't worry about it. You're right, but I'm afraid she's mad at
me."
"She'll get over it. You're nice, and you're cute. For an older man."
Suddenly he had a flash from her and he
saw himself through her eyes. She(he?)
was looking at a tall clean-featured man in his late fifties, getting a little
heavy in the middle, but still looking quite fit. He was just over two meters tall, topped by
an unruly crown of fiery red hair that waved every which way, refusing to be
tamed. A reddish stubble was sprouting
(God, he'd forgotten to shave!) and his clothes were stylish, if a bit rumpled.
"I look like a slob!" He burst out, upset until he saw Samantha
giggling. The nurse looked confused.
"Relax." Samantha forced herself to settle down,
biting her lower lip. "You've been
up a couple of days with barely any sleep.
Considering that, you look pretty good." She reached up to straighten his bow-tie.
Then she looked down. I'm sorry about peeking at your reaction to
Dr. Lee, but it's hard to look at just one thing. Every image I look at brings up something
else, and those bring up even more. So
you have to sort though it all to get what you want. It can be a real bitch!"
He was amazed. Thirteen going on fourteen? But he could see where the strange mix of
little girl and woman came from. It must
have been difficult to sort out impressions not only from her own mind, but
from those around her, as well. She
would have had to grow up fast.
He saw her looking up at him shyly. "Dr. Kirby says I'll make a hell of a
good psychologist when I finish school."
She would indeed; she'd make him
obsolete! Oh well, that was
progress. He shrugged and faced her,
seriously. No more patronizing.
"Do you understand what I'm looking
for? It could be dangerous. I had envisioned Kirby sending me
someone..."
"Older and male? Don't be a chauvinist. This is the twenty-first century. I know the risk, and I can't say I'm not a
little scared, but this is important."
She bit her lower lip, drawing a thin line of blood. "You're trusting me with this, and we
have to know what happened."
He was touched by the subconscious use of
'we' and reached out to grip her shoulder reassuringly. "If you don't want to, just say so. No one will force you to do it." He promised.
"I know." She straightened her crooked body as much as
possible and drew a deep breath.
"Here goes." Softly, so
that he barely heard her.
¶
It was several minutes later that a pale
and shaken Samantha explosively expelled a rush of air and grabbed weakly for
Ohlson. She sat slumped, her eyes
shifting randomly around the room.
It scared him and he dropped to his knees
in concern, cupping her face in his hands to aim it at him. "Are you all right?" Then again, louder. "Samantha! Are you okay?"
She finally focused her eyes on him and
nodded weakly. "Yea. I'm okay, it was just a little tricky. He didn't want to let me in." Then she closed her eyes and started
breathing in careful, regulated cycles.
"Just give me a minute to sort things out."
"Of course, take your
time." He ignored the glare he was
getting from the nurse who had tried to come to Samantha's aid until Ohlson had
waved him away firmly. Samantha shot him
a grateful smile.
For a while she sat looking off into
space until she shook her head and shrugged apologetically.
"I'm sorry Dr. Ohlson..."
"Erik."
"Thank you. Erik.
I'm trying to sort out what happened, but it's still mixed up. The alien was trying to contact him
to..." She paused, unsure of how to
interpret the contact. Then after a
moment's consideration, she brightened.
"I know. Let me put it this
way.
"The aliens were trying to phone
Mitchell, but it's a bad connection.
Mitchell answers, and can sort of understand them, but he doesn't like
what they are saying, so he hangs up.
The aliens call back, several times, each time more and more surprised
and annoyed that Mitchell won't talk to them.
In the meantime, Mitchell is getting scared and angry. Then it felt like someone... shocked him with
the phone, real bad. Now he's
really getting scared, and hurt, so he takes the phone off the hook..."
"Cutting off both incoming and
outgoing calls!" Ohlson
interrupted, understanding what she meant.
"Exactly!" She looked pleased.
Ohlson thought a moment and then
asked. "Did you understand any of
the alien’s 'conversation'?"
Samantha shook her head. "I'm sorry, no. It's like there was interference on the
line. The only thing that was clear was
that the aliens expected Mitchell to answer.
That, and the fact that Mitchell 'felt' like someone getting an obscene
phone call."
"Well, at least that gives me
another piece to work with." Some
of the things that had been bugging him were starting to click, somewhere in
the back of his mind, but they were still eluding his direct grasp. It was time to do some brainstorming, but
first, there was one more thing to try with Samantha.
"Okay Sam, can I call you
that?"
"Sure, that's what they called me at
the Center."
He smiled gratefully, feeling a bond
forming between them on a level he couldn't understand yet. "All right, here's the next part. The hard part." He warned her. "Can you go into Mitchell's mind and...
convince him that the obscene caller is gone and that it's safe to put the
phone back on the hook?" He
continued the analogy since it was a good one.
"I can try." Her voice was a little hesitant, the adult
veneer cracking a little for the first time.
He got up and guided her chair over to Mitchell's bed and sat down on it
between them.
"I'll be right here." He took both of her hands in his, marveling
over how tiny they were.
She smiled, her face composed again, a
wordless gratitude penetrating through to him.
She looked over at Mitchell a moment, and then her face went vacant, the
eyes lost in some distance.
For almost ten minutes, she sat like
that.
A couple of times Mitchell twitched slightly,
low moans escaping his lips, and then he relaxed, his body straightening and
forcing Ohlson to get up off the bed.
His chest began to rise and fall rhythmically as the breathing resumed a
normal pattern and the ash-like appearance of the skin faded as the normal rich
brown color returned. Then, as resonant
snoring filled the room, Samantha giggled and moved away from the bed, pulling
Ohlson with her.
She waved the nurse to follow them out of
the room and Ohlson wondered about the giggle, until Samantha explained.
"He resisted my contacts at
first. He's got real strong natural
shields, but I'm stronger." She
looked a little smug. "Although, I
did cheat a little."
"Cheat?"
"Uh huh." She waved him down and whispered in his ear,
glancing meaningfully at the nurse, who obviously was not to be let in on her
secret.
"I sent him some real strong images
from Dr. Kirby's last date, that I... happened to catch. She was quite, ah, mature."
¶
<<<Brief flash of a
voluptuous and deeply tanned brunette erotically stripping by the light of a
crackling fire that fills the room with the smell of smoky pine tar; all
mingling with the heady scent of Chanel No. 22 and a pleasant
tingling from a good bottle of wine; and overpowering all that, the unmistakable
feel of a growing erection, painfully constricted by too-tight pants.>>>
¶
'Good God!' Ohlson was staggered by the vividness of the
image -- no wonder Mitchell had recovered!
He was also a bit shocked that a thirteen year old girl should have that
kind of mental images in her mind. He
raised an accusing eyebrow.
She blushed. "I peeked, I admit it. I was curious why he was in such a good mood
that morning. I sent Mitchell even
more."
'More?'
He shook his head in amazement.
Thirteen going on thirty was more like it.
"It worked, didn't it?" A bit defensively as she sensed his thoughts.
"Yes it did." He nodded.
"You did good. Thank
you." Mitchell was safe now, but
there were still questions that needed to be answered.
He hit the com-panel to give Lee the good
news about Mitchell, and then he turned back to Samantha.
"Sam, you were able to penetrate his
shield, even the alien obviously couldn't.
Does that mean you're a stronger telepath than they are?" That could have some interesting implications.
"I think so." Sam guessed after a moment's
consideration. "They don't seem to
be terribly powerful, and I think they need physical contact."
"That fits." He made his decision.
"Sam, would you mind staying? I have a feeling we might need you. Depending on how Dr. Kirby feels about
it."
"Would I mind staying?" She laughed.
"Naturally I have to get back to a smog filled city and boring
classes..." But then she was almost
pleading. "Please, Erik. Let me stay.
I can help, I just know it!"
He looked at her anxious face and knew he
couldn't send her away. Besides, they
might indeed need her.
"Okay, but if you stay, I'll need
some help myself. Can you help me go
over the last couple of days and work through what I've learned, by going into
my mind?" He wasn't sure what he
thought she could do, but maybe she might know.
"The answer is in there, I can feel it, I just can't seem to put it
together yet."
She didn't bat an eye. "Sure, Erik. But you have to let me in all the way. It can be scary to surrender privacy like
that. You sure you can handle it?"
He started to smile at her seriousness,
but then thought about how she'd brought Mitchell out. This was no joke, she'd know everything! Was he ready for that?
But he knew the answer even as he formed
the question. He had no choice, too much
was at stake. His mouth was dry as he
just nodded silently.
She looked at him as if weighing his
sincerity, and then, obviously satisfied, she shrugged and smiled.
"Okay, Erik. I'll try to stay away from your private
thoughts, but I can't promise anything."
Erik nodded again, not quite trusting
himself to speak.
Sam looked around. "Is there an empty room we can
use?" Ohlson nodded as she looked
over at the nurse.
"Sorry, John, but get lost for a
while. This is going to be hard enough
without witnesses."
¶
III.
It had worked, all
right. And it had been a bit frightening
as he'd felt himself dissected by Samantha's amazing mind. She had made him relive the events of the past
days in only a few subjective hours -- actually just minutes in real time --
focusing on details where necessary. And
as they had explored he facts together, the connecting thread he had felt
revealed itself. Finally it was starting
to make sense and the solution to the puzzle of the aliens was nearly at
hand. But there were still key pieces
missing. Maybe with the help of the rest
of the investigating team, they could solve it?
Soon he would have his chance. Dr Lee had agreed to his request for a
meeting of the primary research chiefs in order to review all the findings to
date, and one by one the others were filing in.
It was a small, but select group of scientists and as they took their
places, briefly introducing themselves, he had to admit that he was
impressed. Lee had assembled a powerful
group of people, most of whom he knew by reputation, if not personally.
He was glad to see that the recognition
was mutual and he could see from their expressions that his presence was
welcomed by the others.
Heinrich Bauer was there, to no
surprise. The chunky seventy-two year
old West German physiologist was well known for his work on 'designing' aliens
that might be encountered. And for his
eternal heavy accent that the others were struggling with as he summarized his
findings.
The ethereally slender Wan Chu of
The chunky Japanese-American sociologist
who was next, Ito Kagama, was only a passing acquaintance of Erik's; they had
run across each other at occasional SETI meetings. But, he knew Kagama had a good reputation and
had undoubtedly been a good choice.
As for the less familiar fields, Bob
Mackey of MIT was there. It was
partially his computer programs that had made communication between Earth and
the Shounna possible. He was a pale
young man with an improbable handlebar mustache who sat looking over the others,
fitfully twisting one spear of hair or the other, one finger of the free hand
tapping restlessly on the table top.
Sitting next to him was the English
linguist, John Ford, a bland-looking man in his early forties who was from
The physicist, Cindy Bennet, Erik knew
less about. She was a nervous skinny
brunette somewhere between twenty and forty whose most distinct feature were
the enormous and archaic glasses that she wore.
But other than that she was a top-notch physicist and also from MIT, he
knew nothing about her. He never really
traveled in those circles. The hard
sciences held less interest for him than the mysteries of the mind.
Lee's credentials were of course
impeccable. Even though her doctorate
was in political science, she had an intuitive knowledge of group dynamics, as
well as a gift for organizing and motivating disparate groups of people. As he watched her run the meeting, his
respect for her grew. All the
specialists that she had assembled were prima donnas in various ways -- and he
was no exception -- yet, she managed to keep everyone working smoothly
together, like a master conductor puts a symphony orchestra through its paces.
Reassured that the research was in
capable hands, Erik concentrated on listening to them lay out their
findings. Soon it would be his turn and
he wanted to be sure he didn't miss anything that might help him.
But when Cindy Bennet started discussing
her team's findings, his attention began to lag. The truth was, he couldn't care less if the
aliens used an interstellar drive that generated its own black holes or if they
had taken advantage of a black hole out beyond Pluto. It was beyond Earth technology, either
way. And all theoretical. The only thing they could really say for sure
was that they didn't know what type of drive the Shounna used, if any. So, in spite of his best intentions, his mind
wandered.
Beside him, he could sense Samantha
scheming. It was funny, but since she
had wandered through his mind he seemed to have developed a bond with her that
let him know some of what she was feeling and thinking. It was vague and unpredictable, but
real. And it went beyond the strong
personal attachment that was quickly forming between them as she became a
substitute for the daughter he'd lost.
He had talked to her about it, but she
had just dismissed it by explaining that it sometimes happened. Her guess was that he had absorbed some of
her 'self' while she was rooting around in his mind, and that he had retained a
ghost image of her thoughts. It would
fade in time. It sometimes happened
after contact with highly disciplined and intelligent non-espers.
At that point she had giggled and added
that she might be wrong; about what, she didn't say.
She had gone on, though, to tell him that
she thought he might be a latent telepath, but if so, in need of intensive
training. Whatever it was, he was
convinced that she was up to something and he looked at her closely.
But she just sat calmly and gave him a
wide-eyed look of innocence -- now he knew he was in trouble. What was she up to?
Then he found out. In the back of his mind he felt a familiar
sensation and a series of images began to form.
Not strong enough to cut out the room around him, but sort of the way
you could listen to music and view a paper at the same time.
¶
<<<He saw himself being led by
the hand by a young girl who looked like -- no, who was -- a healthy and
undeformed version of Samantha. They
were walking along a gleaming white beach...
Oh no! He knew this beach. Long-denied memories fought for recognition
as he saw Dr. Lee coming towards them, similarly led and looking every bit
as confused as he was. Confusion that
turned to icy propriety as she recognized him.
The two Samanthas merged and faded out, somehow leaving Erik and Lee
holding hands.
<<<They quickly let go of each
other and moved apart awkwardly, unsure of what Samantha was up to.
<<<Behind them, they suddenly
heard the familiar whine of a power wheelchair, and turned to find themselves
facing the young girl they both knew.
<<<Samantha waved around proudly
and smiled as she sent them a telepathic greeting. I'm pretty good, aren't I? Then, sensing their reactions, she
apologized. Sorry, I don't mean to
show off.
<<<Lee spoke first, sounding
more indignant than anything. "What
do you think you're doing?"
<<<Erik was right with her. "She's right, this really is pretty
rude, invading our minds like this..."
<<<Samantha glanced at them
slyly. You're on the same side,
now. Did'ja notice?
<<<Without realizing it, they
had moved closer together until they were almost touching shoulders, and as
Samantha pointed it out, Erik saw a faint flush creep over Lee's cheeks. He started to speak, but Samantha cut him off.
<<<"You know Erik, I don't
understand you." (Like hell she
didn't!) "You like her, you always
did, so why don't you say something?"
But before he could answer, she turned to Lee. "And what's your problem? He's a nice man. I know.
I've been in his mind."
<<<Erik and Lee spoke almost simultaneously. "Young lady, that's none..."
<<<"Of my business. I know, I know." She pouted.
"What a splat. But I'm nosy,
and you're both nice people who could use each other's company. So why not make friends?" She shook her head and turned to Erik.
<<<"I mean, really! She was real special, once."
<<<Lee was strangely silent and
he could see her eyes widen, probably as she felt the same sensation in her
mind that he was getting used to by now.
Images began overwhelming him, shutting out everything else, images of
that day in
<<<Relentlessly the memories
flowed over him as he relived that night.
His first accidental meeting with Leah, by the pool at the hotel, when
she had accidentally dumped ice water over him.
The way that had led them to talk, endlessly, until the heat of the
noonday sun had driven them into the air-conditioned lounge.
<<<He could still feel the
chemistry that had overwhelmed him that day.
It was strange. Sometimes two
strangers could meet, and after only a few words, carry on like life-long
friends. "Old souls", someone
had called it once. Maybe there was
something to reincarnation after all?
<<<Whatever. That day had whirled by in a dizzying rush of
tumbling impressions as repressed emotions were unlocked by his chance meeting
with the beautiful and intelligent Leah.
She had been a stimulating companion, with an agile and inquiring
mind. Equally happy indulging childish
pleasures, or carrying on sophisticated and demanding discussions as mood and
circumstance dictated.
<<<At dinner that evening, she
had gradually opened up to him and told him about growing up under the control
of an almost fanatically traditional family, her mother and her barely
tolerated because of her Chinese father.
And she told him of her rebellion against them and how that had led her
to abortive and tempestuous affairs until she had fallen in love with a
statesider. With a man who turned out to
be married and who had deserted her.
<<<She had suddenly stopped with
a blush, surprised that she was trusting him with secrets she usually didn't
share.
<<<A little unsettled, and
honored, he decided to open up to her about his own struggles to make it on his
own, and about how he had finally made a name for himself.
<<<And about his marriage.
<<<That was when everything had
fallen apart.
<<<All of the sudden he had
realized that for the whole time that he had been with Leah, he had forgotten
all about Terri and Nancy. And about the
plane crash that had killed both his wife and three year old daughter just a
year earlier.
<<<He remembered how he'd frozen
up, grinding to a halt as he sat facing a puzzled Leah. He had gotten to his feet, knocking over the
ice-bucket and wine next to their table, and then had made some pathetic
excuses before running off, without telling her why. He had only stopped long enough to pack and
check out of the hotel, leaving no forwarding address.
<<<Was it any wonder she was
cool towards him, or that he couldn't bring himself to talk to her? But even as he thought it, a clear mental
raspberry echoed through his mind.
<<<"Erik! Pulleese!
No wonder they say doctors shouldn't treat themselves. Do you realize how stupid that is? And you'd say that, too, if another patient
came in with that story."
<<<Without warning, he found
himself back on the beach, facing an older but still beautiful Leah, and a
skeptical-looking young girl who sat looking at them, sighing impatiently.
<<<Her reaction was like a cold
shower, and Erik realized that she was right.
He shook his head ruefully and faced Leah, reaching out to offer his
hands.
<<<"I tried to get in touch
with you the next day to explain, but the hotel said that you had checked out
and left no forwarding information."
<<<Leah looked down. "That's my fault. I specifically told them not to give out any
information. I was furious." Her face was softer now as she extended her
hands to accept his as she moved closer and looked up at him.
<<<"I didn't, couldn't,
know. I just knew that a charming man I
met and fell for, against all common sense, suddenly turned and ran out with
some reference to a wife and daughter...I had no idea they had died!" She took his hand gently. "I thought you were married and ran out
on me. The second time I'd been hurt and
dumped. I wish I would have known the
truth." She looked wistful. "How long has it been?"
<<<"Ten years." He thought back. "It was March, 2050." His thumbs stroked her hands in a warm
caress; they felt like living satin.
"And I had never let myself feel like that again -- or since...
Easy enough considering how busy I keep myself."
<<<For a moment they just stood
there staring into each other's eyes, Leah looking secretly pleased as smile
crinkles appeared around her mouth and eyes (who was the idiot who had decided
that those were ugly, anyway? Nuts!) He felt like a kid again as he freed a hand
to caress her cheek and bent his head down to kiss her gently, feeling her lips
respond eagerly to his.
<<<But then the moment was
interrupted.
<<<"Excuse me." Samantha broke in reluctantly. "I hate to break this up, but
Dr. Bennet is winding down, and it's almost time for Erik to give his
presentation." The beach started
fading as the boardroom reasserted itself around them.>>>
¶
Erik looked up to see a disoriented Leah
shaking her head, and then briskly thank Dr. Bennet for her input and
introduce Erik.
"Er... Dr. Ohlson, I believe
you have some interesting speculations to advance?" She didn't know what he suspected, either, so
she was as curious as the rest.
He stood up leisurely to give himself time
to drag his mind back from Hawaii -- still feeling the velvet touch of her lips
on his -- and forcing himself to concentrate, he leaned forward with both hands
planted firmly on the table.
"The Shounna are lying to
us!" He stopped a moment, satisfied
with the stir that little comment generated.
Several voices started clamoring for recognition immediately, but Leah
brought them deftly in line, even while shooting Erik a dirty look. He smiled and waited while the others settled
down.
"Actually, let's be fair. They are concealing things from us. I've found some of the answers, and I'm
figuring out some other things. But, I
need your help to put it together.
"It all ties in with the 'attack' on
Mitchell, who, incidentally is fine thanks to the efforts of Miss Cooper,
here." He indicated Samantha with a
hand, the girl beaming happily at the recognition.
"So, let me start by detailing what
I've figured out, and then we can talk about the implications.
"First of all, let's start with the
most dramatic. The attack on
Mitchell." He uttered the proper
codes and the lights dimmed and a large monitor at the end of the conference
room lit up with the image of the gallery, just prior to the shoot-out.
"Now, look very carefully at what
actually happens." It was projected
at half-speed and they all watched raptly as the Shounna maneuvered its scooter
closer and closer to the unsuspecting Mitchell.
In slow motion, they saw the aliens’ tentacles unfold and position
themselves precisely on Mitchell's head as the alien reared up and leaned
closer.
"Vid-disp control pause and zoom
sector 3" Ohlson froze and zoomed
the display. "Right
there." He let them all study the
close-up of the alien and Mitchell, then challenged them.
"What does that suggest to you? And let me add, here, that Ms. Cooper
has already determined that they are actually quite weak telepathically and
require physical contact to communicate."
He waited expectantly.
From one end of the table, a heavy
guttural voice that was unmistakably Bauer's spoke up. "It zuggests to me, a shtrong
familiarity vidt hooman fizziology. More
zo zan can be obtained from monitoring old uncoted tefee broadcasts. Eshpezially conzidering ze rapid und prezise
plazement of ze tendacles. Note ze
plazement of ze one tendacle over ze area clozest to ze hippocampus, an area
shtrongly azoziated vidt telepaty. Nicht
wahr?"
Mentally plowing through the accent,
Ohlson nodded agreement. "My
thoughts exactly. That raises some
questions, doesn't it? But hold them for
now, please." He then added what
Samantha had discovered while treating Mitchell, stressing that the alien
seemed to have expected the artist to respond.
That threatened to release another flood of questions, but he raised a
hand to hold them off, turning to Ford and Mackey.
"Before we talk about all this, I've
got another problem to bring up.
"You did say that one reason it
wasn't to difficult to develop the translation program was that the Shounna had
already studied old Earth broadcasts?"
Both of them nodded, looking confused
until Erik went on.
"I thought so. It makes me wonder though, how a race that is
non-verbal, deaf and half blind is able to make use of, or even conceive of
broadcasts based strictly on sound and video." Erik saw the others look up in surprise as
they thought of that.
"Interesting point, isn't it? But hold on to your comments, there's
more." He addressed the display
again and the image shifted to an earlier shot, when the ships were coupling
airlocks. On the screen, the shuttle's
lock opened to reveal the striped doors of the Shounna vessel, still
suspiciously closed. A word from Erik
and the picture speeded up until the aliens were zipping on board, the empty
lock revealed behind them. Erik froze
the picture, and then added inserts of the lock doors and also of the aliens in
the lock opening.
Here he froze the display and stared into
the dark room, challenging the audience.
"Reactions?"
Silence greeted him for several minutes
until Leah spoke up. "Those lock
doors: They're blue and
brown-striped. The Shounna can't
distinguish those colors..."
"And the smaller inset lock-doors
are standard-sized -- for us!"
Mackey interrupted excitedly as he compared sizes in the images. "But the Shounna, even on their
scooters, aren't more than half as wide or tall as the doors. They'd never need that much clearance!"
Erik grinned with satisfaction as he
brought up the room lights and turned off the video-display. "Very good. Now, what have you all to add?"
Instead of the barrage of comments and
questions that had been pending before, the others were silent, digesting
everything he had presented. Then, Bauer
suddenly slammed a hairy fist down on the table with an indecipherable curse.
"Ze virus!" Once he was coherent.
Eric remembered reading about the
flu-like bug found in the Shounna air samples and his eyes widened.
Across the table, the aging Wan
Leah cut in. "I don't understand?"
Wan
"It is like this. Why would an alien race with a different
bio-chemistry than ours be infected with a virus that finds us a very suitable
host?"
Understanding and confusion spread across
Leah's face, mirrored by the others.
"The Shounna must have had dealings
with humans before..." She
ventured.
"That's obvious," Kagama broke in. "but from the evidence it would have had
to be pretty blasted extensive contact, and where is the evidence here on
Earth? No contact material or legends
hint at anything like the Shounna."
"True." She conceded.
"And it doesn't explain the colors or the doors." She shrugged.
"Could it have been contact with another race, biologically similar
to ours? Or could the ship have been
built by somebody else?" She
grimaced unhappily as the room fell silent.
Then, after a few minutes, she stood up.
"Look people, we're not getting
anywhere, so I suggest that we adjourn and go over everything independently and
meet again tomorrow." With that she
dismissed the meeting.
As the room emptied, Bauer paused in the
doorway looking at Samantha hesitantly.
She felt his gaze and as she met his eyes she looked suddenly
frightened. Bauer shook his head and
smiled gently.
"Ach nein, Liebchen. It is too much to ask." Then he turned and left Samantha sitting
there staring at the doorway.
Erik and Leah looked at each other in
confusion and then at Samantha's pale face.
The girl seemed to be considering something, and then, reluctantly, she
nodded to herself and spun the chair to face them.
"He's wrong. It's not too much to ask, and it's the only
logical step to take."
"What is?" Leah asked for both of them.
"I have to go into the Shounna's
mind." It was said so calmly and
matter-of-factly, that it took a second to register, but then.
"NO!" Simultaneously from them both as they
realized what she planned to do.
[Do you really think you can stop me?] There was a chilling certainty to Samantha's
projected words that froze their objections.
Leah grasped Erik's hand as he put his arm around her; he needed her
comfort as much as she needed his, for this was a different Samantha. This was no little girl, but a determined and
powerful telepath. They realized also
that she was right, subconsciously they had both been considering this next,
necessary step. Reluctantly, Leah
nodded.
"You're right. I'll take you down myself. Both of you." She added since Erik hadn't seen the alien
either, except for by monitor.
¶
IV.
All too soon after
that, it seemed that they had been right to worry, because Samantha lay
comatose in the sick-bay and Bauer's team was busy trying to find out what had
killed the alien.
Erik and Leah were still numb with shock
and trying to work out what had happened.
They had gone down with Sam for her probe of the Shounna's mind, which
had seemed to go fine, at first.
The initial contact had been smooth
enough as Samantha had closed her eyes a few minutes and hummed in meditation
before she stiffened in concentration.
But then, fifteen minutes later, the alien had given a spastic heave
while at the same time, Samantha had screamed in agony.
Even Erik had felt the pain. Somehow still linked to her, he had felt a
moment of blinding agony that drove him to his knees before it faded. When he had been able to look up, it had been
to see an unconscious Samantha slumped in her chair, and beyond her in the
cell, the alien lay in a limp heap on the floor of the cage, all its color
faded.
What had happened?
Leah had reacted immediately by cutting
contact with the Shounna with a faked equipment failure, to buy time, while
ordering Bauer's team to examine the alien as closely as possible without
damaging it. Erik, meanwhile, rushed
Samantha to the sick-bay to try to find out what had happened to her.
Now, all they could do was wait.
¶
A couple of hours later, Erik still sat
glumly in the sick-bay keeping an eye on the comatose Samantha. There had been no change in her
condition. The problem now was what to do. There was no explanation for her coma, and
while another telepath might have been able to find out, the doctors didn't
want to risk endangering another telepath.
For the moment, he sat alone since Leah
was trapped on the bridge planning strategy, now that Bauer's team had
confirmed that the alien was definitely dead.
Erik had stayed by the girl's bedside, though. He didn't know why, but felt he had to.
As he sat holding Samantha's hand, he
tried desperately to reach her mind; to take advantage of the intangible bond
between them. He forced everything else
out of his thoughts and concentrated on her mind, building up the image of
Samantha's beach in his own mind.
Complete with the memories of Samantha's little match-making.
This girl could not, must not die! His eyes burned under their lids from the
force of his feelings -- she was the daughter he had lost, and he felt that she
had come to view him almost like the father she had never really had; since she
had been dumped in an institution by parents unwilling to deal with her
handicap.
And if that bond weren't enough, she was
also the one who had brought him back together with Leah.
He bent down and hugged Samantha's still
body close, mustering every scrap of mental force to try to break through to
her mind. Suddenly there was a wrenching
in the back of his mind and he felt surrounded.
He was holding Samantha/being held by Erik/up on the bridge thinking
about Samantha and he was near crying/scared and confused/torn because she
couldn't leave the bridge. He,
Samantha and Leah were one, bound by love but steeped in pain, surprise and
fear.
As he realized what was happening, a
flood of images came over him from Samantha, coming too rapidly to understand,
but being stored for later, he felt. He tried
to acknowledge it, but couldn't reach her mind.
Samantha was dying, they could feel it.
And even as they did, Samantha's mind faded away from them, shattering
the binding link and leaving Erik sobbing alone as he held the slight life-less
body that had been so dear to him.
¶
V.
Several hours later,
after meeting with Leah, he positioned himself carefully in mid-air at the
station's hub with a satisfied sigh.
'Perfect!' The chamber was
deserted and he hung in silence in the dimly lit observation bubble adjusting
slowly to the weightless environment, looking out at the distant spindle of the
Shounna vessel. 'What are you doing, or
thinking, now?', he wondered to himself.
'Do you know what happened to your shipmate? And what would you do if you did?'
Idle speculation.
He knew he was just avoiding facing what
Samantha had given him because it meant accepting her death. But he had to find out why she had
died and so, taking a deep breath, he wedged himself firmly between a dead
light fixture and a support beam and dredged up some nearly forgotten
self-hypnotic techniques. Resolutely he
shut himself away from the outside world and focused inwards on the waiting
images.
¶
The first images to claim him were innocent
enough -- as if Samantha wanted to start him off easy. They were from Samantha's childhood. They helped him understand her as he relived
her rejection from her family and her first years in a squalid public
assistance institution. But he also shared
her discovery of her powers and of others like her who quickly came to her
rescue to take her away.
And he was part of Leah's battles with
her family and with herself, culminating in her clean break from home and fresh
start on the mainland where she had buried herself in school. Finally, he was with her to savor both her
academic and professional successes as she got her doctorate, and her position
with the U.N., all of it reinforcing the feelings for her that had overwhelmed
him since meeting her again.
But there was another set of images
lurking behind those benign scenes he had been involved in, memories that were
alien and with a power and complexity that frightened him. He tried to focus on them, knowing they were
essential, but the more he concentrated, the fuzzier they became, until all he
could distinguish clearly were memories of a being asked to sacrifice a life of
leisure to travel among the stars, forced to depend on artificial support and
aid, isolated from the consciousness of Home.
<<<It was afraid (the
exact feeling was alien, but fear was how his mind interpreted it), but it had
felt its lineage prodding, all of its former life-essences demanding it honor
the tradition of its line to absorb and expand its knowledge. All to seek a world where...>>>
The
imagery faded as he cursed to himself.
Samantha had passed on more. He had felt it, but how would he use it?
On a hunch he closed his eyes and
concentrated on a different image.
Samantha, sitting in her chair on the lawn near
¶
<<<"Hi Erik. I knew you'd call me eventually." She shot him a happy grin. "I like your choice of settings, nice
touch." She looked around briefly
and then closed her eyes. Some of the
buildings shivered and changed slightly, a new one appearing where there had
been open ground before. Then she opened
her eyes.
<<<"There, now it's
right. It's been a while since you were
here."
<<<But he was too busy staring
at her to notice. He had hoped to
conjure a image of her to help him focus, maybe a little more, but this! He got to his feet and leaned down to give
her an enveloping bear-hug.
<<<"Samantha! But, you're dead?... I'm sorry..."
<<<She squeezed him back. "Don't apologize, and close your
mouth. It's undignified." She laughed as he released her and sat back
down. "I am dead, or at least I
must be if we're having this conversation...
Hell, this is confusing."
She shrugged.
<<<"Anyway. I left a lot of junk in your brain, I'm
afraid. Don't worry, there's plenty of
room to spare." She giggled. "Vaccum-head!" Then she sobered.
<<<"Seriously folks, sorry,
I am dead, but I knew it might happen, so I prepared and left some footprints
in your mind. She paused with a shrug.
<<<"Actually, I marched
through with army boots. But the human
brain is ninety percent empty, anyway."
She smiled brightly.
<<<"But, first things
first. This pupil-teacher set-up is
great. Maybe you're a precog, too? Whatever.
When I told you that you were a latent telepath, I wasn't kidding. Not as strong as I am -- no offense intended
-- but you have more discipline, which might make up for it. And that should come in handy."
<<<It was difficult, but he was
beginning to understand some of what she must have done in that brief time she
was in his mind while she was, dying...
<<<"Actually, I laid some
of the groundwork the first time I was in your mind." She interrupted, sensing his thoughts. "I had a hunch I needed to." She looked embarrassed.
<<<He shook his head in
amazement. My God! What a talent she was... had been! He didn't want to think of her being dead --
it was so unfair!
<<<Samantha, or her image,
looked down, chewing pensively on her lip.
"I know it hurts, but remember:
A little piece of me will be with you, always. You'll have that."
<<<For a long moment, they both
sat, looking miserable, until Samantha straightened with a determined frown. "Enough!
We don't have time for this. We
have to make a telepath out of you and figure out how the blast to straighten
all this out. I'm going to teach you,
the way they taught me. In fact, to save
trouble, you're going to be me."
(...)
<<<And he was.
(...)
<<<It was five years of life
crammed into five months of lessons crammed into... what? Five minutes?
He wasn't sure.
<<<"Exactly. Samantha looked satisfied as they broke
apart. Time is virtually
irrelevant. Most people think the way
they talk, or slower(!), which is stupid.
But you'll do the same until you hang around Espers long enough. You'll learn." She reassured him.
<<<"Now that that's done,
let go after the Shounna memories together.
And don't worry, what killed me was when it killed itself and I was
along for the ride. I edited that
out!" Her jaw was set firmly as she
told him. "Now let's visit a
Shounna mind."
¶
<<<It was more of a tour than a
visit, and he had a feeling it was given by a tour-guide who didn't quite speak
the language, but when it was over, his head was aching from what he had
absorbed. It took him a moment to
realize that he was back on the grass at
The cool dampness of the dew-covered
grass under him was reassuring, though, and he sorted through his impressions a
moment before looking up at Samantha.
<<<"Now what? He still wasn't clear on everything he had
seen, and saw that Samantha wasn't, either.
<<<She looked hesitant and then
shrugged. "I don't know. Give your mind a little time to mull it
over. And you'll have to show the
others, the way I showed you the beach..."
<<<"I can't do that!"
<<<[THINK! Back to our lessons.]
He did, and realized that he could do it,
even as he felt Samantha's presence fading with a gentle farewell. He cried out for her in the still night air,
but she was gone and with her, the campus setting faded and he found himself
hanging stiffly in mid-air, his bladder screaming to be emptied.
But this time he didn't feel as lost as
when she had died, because he realized that she would be there with him,
always.
¶
VI.
[BE QUIET PLEASE!] Erik felt a flash of guilty satisfaction about
the way the room fell into instant silence as he blasted the mental command out
to the others. Mackey even stopped
fiddling with his mustache to stare at Erik with his mouth open. The others were equally startled; except Leah
who just sat calmly, trying not to smile.
She knew what was happening and he made it harder for her to look
serious by opening a mental channel to her alone and sending her a glowing and
wordless image of them embraced.
He saw color creeping into her cheeks
briefly until she regained control, and then he sensed her trying to respond
and saw a playful little grin tug at her
lips. Curious, he looked into her mind
only to see himself doused with a bucket of ice water and he saw her mouth the
word "later".
Tearing his attention away from Leah, he
faced to others who still sat in wordless shock over the mental blast that had
quieted them, and speaking more normally, continued.
"Sorry about that, but I wanted to get
your attention and not waste any time trying to convince you. You see, Ms. Cooper discovered I was a
latent telepath and began my training.
Which means I can show you directly what she showed me about the
Shounna." He raised a hand. "Take my word for it, but I need your
help. Clear your minds as much as
possible and... open yourself up."
He wasn't sure how to explain how he wanted, and just hoped he could
reach them all. In the back of his mind
he thought he felt Samantha 'stirring', ready to help him. He felt suddenly better.
Using the breathing exercises Samantha
had shown him, he relaxed and let his mind roam free, seeking out the thoughts
of those in the room with him. Mentally
he reformed the beach where he had met Leah and Samantha before, and
concentrated on bringing the others there.
¶
<<<Slowly his mental beach began
filling up. Leah was of course there
first, blowing him a kiss before the others began appearing. Surprisingly, Mackey was next. The young programmer looked around delightedly
and then promptly dropped to the sand with a happy sigh.
<<<"Stellar! This is better even than any of my
simulations.
<<<Erik shook his head and
obliged with a rueful smile as Wan
<<<"Just making sure this
is a good illusion. It is." He laughed.
"I haven't been able to do that in over fifty years!"
<<<Kagama was next, a serene
smile on his chubby face. "Hot
blast! Grandpa must have known what he
was talking about, after all, with all that Zen stuff. I'll have to check it out. I couldn't seem to connect with you until I
pretended I was a little kid again, listening to Grandpa talk. Fantastic!" He looked around curiously. As usual, Erik was jarred by the slang filled
speech, but he threw Ito an absent wave of greeting.
<<<After that, it took a while,
but one by one, the others popped onto the beach, starting to look
uncomfortable about standing on an empty stretch of unknown beach.
<<<Erik relented, now that he
had access to their minds, and built up the conference room where he had
lectured before and transferred everyone into it, scattered in the first few
rows of seats with himself standing on the stage behind a speakers podium. He saw Leah look around with a smile of
recognition and sensed her amusement and approval. She knew the place of course, since she had
attended his lecture.
<<<Behind him was a large
screen, and as the others settled down, Erik dimmed the house lights and
focused their attention on him.
<<<[Show-off!] He had a sudden flash of a girlish giggle and
realized with relief that Samantha was back.
<<<He tapped the podium
microphone. "Your attention
please. "This may all seem a bit
dramatic," He waved his hand
around. "but it's actually easier
this way. If I was stronger or better
trained, I could just show you everything directly, like Ms. Cooper showed
me, but for now this is the best I can do."
<<<[For now. You'll learn,
with my help.] Another private
message to encourage him. It was foolish
to be so relieved by them, since he knew she was only 'there' when he wished
her to be. But that was the trigger she
had implanted to activate her little simulation, and if he chose to think of it
as her actually being there, what was the harm.
Surely as a psychologist, he could handle one little harmless delusion?
<<<Enough! He forced his mind back to what he was doing.
<<<"But before I show you
anything, I want to define a couple of biological terms," He looked apologetically at Bauer and Wan
<<<Below him, he sensed
satisfaction and impatience from the German and Chinese scientists. They had just had their suspicions confirmed,
and wanted him to get on with it. Good,
no problems there.
<<<"...in that a parasite
lives off its host without providing anything in return, and often winds up
damaging or even killing its host. While
in a symbiotic relationship, there is a mutual benefit for both the host and
'rider', let's call it." Now, some
of the others were beginning to catch on and Erik stressed the last,
again. "Neither the host nor the
rider suffer. Both need the
partnership," He stressed the
word. "to survive. It's usually a relationship that has evolved
over a long period of time."
<<<Nearly everyone knew what to
expect now, so he flashed the first images on the screen. They showed, from behind, a hairy and dark
humanoid being wandering through a murky landscape. It stood a little under five feet tall, by
itself. It was possible to tell because
of the size of the Shounna draped over its shoulders and back, tentacles firmly
placed on the skull of the host. He
sensed satisfaction from Bauer and Wan
<<<[That was a parasitical
relationship, Dr. Bennet. Quite a
different thing!]
<<<He saw her flinch and control
herself, as everyone studied the images with varying degrees of fascination.
<<<Even though it was still a
little unnerving, the host really wasn't all that human-looking after one had
studied it a while. It stood erect, but
its legs were shorter and stockier than a human's, and the body seemed
deformed, until one saw that the spine was curved and the back solidly muscled
to support the weight and bulk of its Shounna rider.
<<<Erik concentrated. He had the images, but could he share them?
<<<Carefully extending his control,
he sought ought each mind and strengthened his link to it, carefully feeding in
the proper images to each, helped by Samantha's 'essence'. Gradually, everyone was absorbed in the
proper sequence...
¶
They were one of the
People riding on their mount, having just been released from training for their
first solo ride. They were 'proud' about
their responsibility for the mounts. It
was a solemn duty to care for them, feed them and keep them healthy. It was difficult since it was necessary to
speed up one's time rate to match the mounts' frantic life pace. Only the ever-present essences of one's
ancestors helped there. But they would
only assist. Mastery would be have to be
learned. They knew they could,
though. They came from a long and worthy
line and would prove their worth to their spawn-mates.
¶
<<<Erik
grabbed for the podium spastically, the whole illusionary lecture hall wavering
until, with Samantha's help, the world stabilized around them. Erik shook his head.
"I'm sorry. There are too many of you, and there is too
much there. But maybe that helps."
<<<The others
all looked numb as they reviewed their impressions. For a moment, they had been one with the
Shounna, feeling and thinking with it.
There had been a lot they couldn't understand, and even what they did,
was confusing.
<<<Mackey was the first to speak
up. "They're old! That relationship, as you call it, has been
going on for a LONG time. I couldn't
understand their concept of time, but that much was clear."
<<<Erik nodded. "They measure time by their spawnings --
which isn't often -- and they've been at it for thousands of spawnings.
<<<"And it's more than a
tradition. The Shounna provide vital
elements for their hosts in return for extended vision, hearing, strength and
mobility. Though the Shounna don't need
the hosts anymore. They have mechanical
substitutes for everything. Except the
emotional bond..."
<<<Leah's turn to
interrupt. "They love those
mounts!" She looked confused,
unsure.
<<<"That is my impression,
too." Wan
<<<Erik shook his head. "No, but it's as close as they can
come. As far as I can figure, the
Shounna, alone, can't feel much emotion; they don't need it. But when joined with a host, they share the
full emotional range of that host and it's a very special relationship that
develops between the two."
<<<The others all tried to
digest that, as Erik changed the subject.
<<<"But before I say
anything else, I have to explain how Sam... Ms. Cooper died. And why the alien did."
<<<The others waited expectantly
as Erik gathered his thoughts.
<<<"First of
all," Erik began. "it's important to understand that the
Shounna consider themselves unique. In
all the time that they have been around, they have never encountered another
intelligent life-form. By this time,
they can't even conceive of one existing, even if they started by looking for
them.
<<<"Needless to say,
Ms. Cooper came as quite a shock.
She, and all of us, appear as nothing more than deformed mounts, and
they were expecting to meet our 'hosts', but when Samantha contacted the
Shounna prisoner directly -- demonstrating free will, intelligence and
<<<"Nicht verst...? I don't understand. Killed itself?" Bauer looked confused, while Wan
<<<"Yes, of course."
<<<The others looked at him,
annoyed, as Erik took him off the hook.
<<<"What
<<<"That's
terrible!" Cindy Bennet burst out,
suddenly finding something to pity in the aliens.
<<<Leah straightened,
understanding spreading across her face.
"And Samantha was directly linked with the Shounna when it
suicided!"
<<<"Exactly. And her brain was somehow short-circuited by
it." Erik finished. "But she lived just long enough to pass
on to me what she had learned."
<<<There was a long silence as
the others digested that, and then.
<<<"So why are they
here?" Bennet again, switching back
to being suspicious, and Erik saw the same question on the faces of the others.
<<<This would be the tricky
part. Well, in stages.
<<<"They came because their
outposts in this region of space began picking up fragments of our electronic
communication..."
<<<"That's no
news." Ford and Mackey cut in together. "That's why we were able to communicate
so quickly. There's more."
<<<"Yes. They came to find out what
happened." He sensed confusion,
even as he Bauer and Wan
<<<"The Shounna were here
before, a long time ago," Now the
others started catching on. "and
they left a colony here. Something must
have happened and the Shounna riders died off.
The hosts, deprived of the guiding riders had to survive on their own
and develop. A great many probably died,
but enough lived on without the Shounna's restricting control..."
<<<"To evolve, cross-breed
with our own ancestors and eventually become us. Is that what you were going to say, mein
Freund?" Bauer cut him off
abruptly, shaking his head, and not waiting for an answer.
<<<"Nein, no. I can not believe it."
<<<"But it has to be. That's what the Shounna believe -- which is what
is so dangerous."
<<<Bauer's turn to look
confused, until Erik explained.
<<<"The Shounna are
considering three theories right now.
One is what you just laid out.
That makes us poor little riderless orphans in need of guidance." He ignored the swell of protest.
<<<The second idea is that a
mutation occurred which boosted our intelligence and that we killed of our
riders because we were sick and insane -- and we know what remedy there is for
that! Except they would just release a
virus to sterilize us and then Earth would be empty of humanity in less than a
century."
<<<Everyone gasped and he felt a
roiling mix of anger, fear and indignation fill the room.
<<<"Finally, a third
theory, and one which is the majority view, is basically the same as the
first. The only difference is that this
view recognizes that there might still be a danger of infection to
Shounna. If so, the only solution is to
isolate us and warn the Shounna planet against future contact.
<<<"Needless to say, the
Shounna already here would destroy themselves after sending home a
warning."
<<<There were mixed reactions to
that, guilty relief among the strongest.
Erik ignored it though and speared Bauer with a challenging look as he
saw that the German remained stubbornly doubtful about something.
<<<Bauer
didn't waste any time. "Nicht
möglich! I still say it is
impossible. All three theories are based
on a false supposition." He shifted
in his seat to address the whole group. "Life here on Earth is the result
of a long chain of miraculous and unlikely coincidences, perhaps by a God
guided? Who knows. But it is impossible to believe that the same
coincidences could happen on two isolated worlds to produce two such similar
life forms -- genetically compatible life-forms, mind you! We are too obviously related and linked to
other life on this planet, and the Shounna are too different to have come from
a world like ours. No, it is impossible." He was adamant, and Erik saw Wan
<<<"So, Heinrich. What happened?"
<<<Bauer considered for a long
moment, the rest of the room waiting expectantly, and then he brightened.
<<<"It is just an
idea. But consider this scenario. The Shounna originally had different, native
hosts. They came to Earth on a survey
expedition and took samples of life-forms here, including our anthropoid
ancestors ‑‑"
<<<"And brought them
home!" Erik's turn to interrupt
excitedly -- though Bauer looked annoyed -- as he seized the idea and went on
with it.
<<<"They saw the potential
for more adaptable hosts, genetically engineered them and replaced their
original hosts with our cousins. That
explains the need to provide their hosts with dietary supplements. Elements not found on their world, but that
we have, and need. I think you've got
it!" He turned to Ito and Wan
<<<"What do you
think?" Both of them grinned and as
Erik looked around he saw everyone else nodding in agreement.>>>
¶
Without anyone realizing it, the entire
mental illusion had collapsed since Erik had been too exited about finding an
answer to maintain the lecture setting.
Now, with an idea of what he should be looking for, he closed his eyes
and forced the others out of his mind, casting his thoughts back over the
Shounna memories hidden away in his mind.
He sensed Samantha helping him as he dug into the Shounna images. He soon realized that the aliens possessed a
well developed race-memory that was always accessible and even inter-acting
with the conscious mind to an extent. He
had missed it at first since it was on a slightly different level of thought,
but as he delved deeper into the past in his search for a particular image, he
uncovered layer after layer of rich and varied memories.
Then he found what he was looking for.
Rejoining the others, who had been
sitting staring curiously at him, he explained what he had found and
concentrated to bring them back to the illusionary auditorium.
¶
<<<"Sorry, but I wanted to
show you something." It was amazing
how much easier it was to control the illusion this time.
<<<Once again they were back in
front of the podium, facing the large screen on which a different image was
forming. A Shounna and its host again,
but a different host.
<<<It was a four-legged animal,
about the size of a Shetland pony, with a vaguely lizard-like head. Widely spaced bulbous eyes scanned both sides
independently while the impeding underbrush was pushed aside by thick
tentacles, like the Shounnas' but without the extra more dexterous branchings
on the end.
<<<"Ganz gut!" Bauer exclaimed happily, his theory having
been supported. "That is exactly
what I would have pictured. They had
different hosts originally, and for whatever the reason, the Shounna decided
that a bipedal anthropoid host would be more suitable. More versatile, certainly." Some of the others looked a little
uncomfortable at Bauer's mechanistic analysis, but his point made
sense.>>>
At that point the meeting ground to a
halt, no one able to propose what to do.
Erik collapsed the mental conference room since it had served its
purpose, and besides, it was getting tiring to maintain it. He also noticed the glazed looks that were
coming over several faces and looked over at Leah and saw that she also
realized it.
She stood up and looked out over the
conference table and called for attention and then dismissed the meeting, after
requesting everyone to work on analyzing the probability of Bauer's theory being
true.
¶
VII.
The next morning began
with a quick agreement that Bauer's theory was indeed the only logical one
after which everyone started to free-fall again, unsure of where to go from
that point. Everything hinged on how to
approach the Shounna about the death of their ship-mate and how to avoid
traumatizing them with the truth about the relationship between humans and the
Shounna hosts. Not to mention the shock
that humans were mental equals (though a few disputed that, half-seriously).
For a while, Leah listened patiently as
they wrestled it all back and forth without getting anywhere, until then she
finally cleared her throat impatiently.
It was a measure of her influence that the room fell silent almost
immediately, everyone's attention turning to her.
"The way I see it," She began.
"the biggest problem remaining is how to approach the Shounna, and
let me offer a suggestion." Elbows
on the table, she leaned forward and clasped her hands under her chin, looking
deceptively casual.
"Consider this. We contact them, apologizing for our radio
silence which was due to equipment problems and we present the
following." She paused a moment to
order her thoughts, and then continued, raising one finger with her first
point..
"First we offer our sincere regrets
over the unfortunate demise of their crew-mate who was in our custody. We explain that it took its own life and that
in trying to discover why it killed itself, we came up with some ideas we want
to discuss." A second finger
extended gracefully.
"Here we ask very humbly if we could
be right in theorizing that early Shounna expeditions to Earth sampled various
life forms, including our own animal ancestors.
And also that those animals -- and we stress that word -- were later,
and with care, adapted to replace less versatile hosts.
"Next," Another finger popped up. "we thank the Shounna for being
considerate enough not to mention this to us so as not to upset us..."
"But they wouldn't have
cared." Kagama interrupted.
Leah smiled sweetly. "No, but we do, and this way we let them
know that."
Erik had to grin, And he thought he was a
psychologist
Leah continued, another manicured nail
revealing itself. "Then we tell
them that in our attempt to communicate this to the Shounna representative on
board," She emphasized the
wording. "some misunderstanding
must have occurred, with the tragic loss of life we mentioned."
She separated her hands, spreading one
for emphasis. "And finally, we
explain that we must regretfully terminate contact for a period of a few
decades or so to allow our people to adjust to the fact that we have contacted
a superior intelligence and that we must be sure that the Shounna symbiotic
relationship is not misunderstood."
"Hell!" Kagama cut in again. "With a good media campaign it wouldn't
take more than a few months to have everyone on Earth ready to welcome them
like long-lost family."
Erik couldn't restrain himself.
"Yes, we can adjust that
quick, but the Shounna can't. They need
time to adjust to having found another intelligent race, even an 'inferior'
one. We also have to be careful not to
reveal the true facts about the suicide or of telepathic abilities. We don't want to overload the Shounna and
risk a repeat of what happened to our prisoner."
Leah had taken advantage of Erik's
interruption to take a sip of water, but as he finished, she took over again.
"Like I said. The key points will be to protect their
feelings and give them time to adjust, and to suck up and cover our asses!
"It won't be easy, but if we do it
this way, it gives us a relationship claim and a reason for the Shounna to want
to protect us, and it removes any threat we might pose. Well?"
She looked out at the others.
Bit by bit skepticism and nervousness
disappeared, replaced by relieved satisfaction.
Leah had done it. She had put
together a story that covered everything.
Seeing the response, she got up. "First, are we all agreed?" She waited until the expected chorus of
support faded. "Then I'll take this
to the U.N. Rep for approval."
Which was academic since the cursor had been on Leah's screen all
along. But, maintaining face was
important everywhere.
Then she headed for the door, shooting
Erik a challenging look. He took the
hint and entered her mind to find a warm and receptive mental embrace waiting
for him.
<<<"Tonight, my love. Tonight!">>>
¶
VIII.
In the Burrow That
Flies Between Worlds, Organizer considered the latest communication from the
Lost Ones. As much as it could feel emotion
when not joined with a Partner, it felt pity.
These beings had never known true Fusion or Partnership, and yet they
tried to understand.
Organizer could not understand everything
they had said about the death of Contacter #3. It was not rational. Perhaps an error in translation? Whatever.
It was unimportant as all three Contacters had been expendable, having
'shared' of their essences before leaving the Burrow.
The essences of all three Contacters had
naturally been purged from the 'Mind' of the Burrow since they had obviously
been diseased. Organizer felt a
momentary 'sadness' over their loss. #2
and #3 had obviously not been able to tolerate the separation from its Partner
and had confused the Lost One with an unclaimed Partner, trying to Fuse with
it. When #2 had been killed by the other
Lost Ones, #1 had lost control and terminated one of them. Clear proof that it, too had been unstable,
even if it had only acted to protect the Brood.
As for the theory that the Lost Ones had
proposed, it had been considered in full Crew Fusion, and accepted as
logical. But their desire to break
contact for several tens of planetary revolutions was confusing. There must have been another error of
understanding there. It would take many
times as long merely to return Home.
Then the people there would have to consider the course of the Contact.
No matter. The extra time would serve the Lost Ones
well. Even at their frantic life-pace,
they were plainly not capable of quickly breeding the new generations that
would accept the new interstellar relationship.
It was obvious just from looking at them. They had not even attained a uniform
appearance yet, necessary before true union and harmony could be attained.
A few hundred revolutions might pass, but
perhaps by that time, these beings would be fully ready to meet their visitors,
who would also be prepared to accept this poor incomplete species.
Organizer would ask to lead the return
journey as well. It was curious to see
what might develop. It would ask for
assistance from Genetics in analyzing the data from these beings to see if
perhaps a way could be found to extend their life-span so that they, too, could
travel the stars. The life-balance of
the Partners at Home was too delicate to allow any more alterations, but these
beings seemed hardy. It would be an
interesting challenge. And it would be
nice not to have to be isolated from a Partner during the long revolutions
between worlds.
Yes, there was much to consider.
-
The End -
Well, not quite. I mentioned in the introduction that I would
tell you something else about Samantha.
That concerns the reactions expressed by people I know who read the
story, and flattering letters forwarded to me by Stan. Overwhelmingly, the sentiments expressed ran
along the lines of: "...great
story... but why did you kill Samantha?". I was surprised, and admittedly gratified, by
the strength of the reactions of the letters and comments. And I felt guilty. I can only console myself with the thought
that somewhere out there, I am sure her role model is alive and well.
As for the embarrassing mistake... All right, I'll 'fess up.
Originally there was one Shounna trying
to get into Mitchell's mind... and it got shot and died... but it was a
prisoner later? Huh? Well, at least that's finally fixed!