by Marc Landau
“It doesn’t matter how green you turn. I don’t understand colors!”
I also didn’t understand why they cared to talk to me. I got that they weren’t stepping on us like plankton because Kat wouldn’t let them, but why were they even trying to talk to me? What good could I do?
All of the spheres floating outside the ship were now dark green. Millions of tropical colored mini-globes. Leaves in a psychotic space rainforest.
The spheres started to slowly jiggle, and now I thought of Christmas ornaments. Those metallic balls I would hang on the fake tree we had every Christmas.
Green Christmas tree balls and tropical rainforests.
Yes, Christmas still exists. Always has. Always will. But it’s no longer about buying gifts. Since society has figured out all of its resource issues, materialism isn’t such a big deal anymore. No one gloats about how much stuff they have. Well, some do, but those people are generally shunned. They’re part of a small retro-cultural group. It’s an embarrassing remnant from the past. I guess it’s good they exist, just to remind us of how far we’ve come.
Now Christmas (and all holidays) is about family and gratitude. Not to get all mushy, but it’s one of the few times I take a minute to stop and appreciate what I have. Every year I try to hang onto that gratitude for as long as possible, but it usually doesn’t last more than a week.
Most studies show that people can’t stay grateful for more than a few weeks, even after major events like near-death experiences and mind-expanding vacations on Satorian Alpha. Even the big moments eventually fade.
It’s the same with Noba year resolutions. They wear off in two weeks. Ironically, the mass marketers figured that out, and that’s why they sell you year-long data subscriptions on the day of Noba. They know you’re going to sign up for tons of crap you think you’ll use, but never will. Turns out gratitude and goals are tough to stick by.
Unless you use a goal-implant nano, but that’s kind of cheating, isn’t it? That’s why I started a good, old-fashioned gratitude data journal awhile back. I really wanted to lock in some gratitude after the holidays. Turned out it only lasted a few weeks, because I’m also pretty bad at developing habits and routines. Except for bad ones.
Green Christmas tree balls and tropical rainforests.
Oddly, it struck a chord.
I blinked, and was no longer in the command room. I was standing in a rainforest, and in front of me was a giant Christmas tree covered with green ornaments. I sensed I hadn’t actually left the command room but for a second I thought they might have teleported me away. Maybe sent me back to Earth just to get rid of me.
It was fine by me if they wanted to teleport me back to my living quarters on Prime. I’d had enough of this shat. As long as they teleported Poka too, and please, for the love of the universe, leave the bot behind.
The fraking spheres had gotten into my head again. Or it was Kat in my head again. Either way, someone was trying to communicate.
“This is how you want to talk to me? Make me hallucinate that I’m in a Christmas rainforest?”
The green balls didn’t answer. Neither did the rainforest.
“Great! You trapped me in a dream, and you still have nothing to say,” I fumed.
And that’s when I heard a voice that sent chills though my entire being.
“Wil, honey, is that you?”
Holy fraking crapilorns! It’s my mother!
Mom always did love Christmas and she was obsessed with rainforests. I had no idea why. I think she went to one with a boyfriend when she was young, but I never got a straight story out of her. All she ever said was “I used to have a life before you,” then she’d look wistfully away and smile.
It was one secret she’d never spill. Of course, she never had a problem telling me about her bunions, corn toes, and ear pimples.
She even had an old-fashioned snow globe of a rainforest on her bedroom dresser. Side note: Isn’t it more of a rain jungle than a forest? I’d have to ask the bot once I got out of being trapped in a waking dream hallucination.
“There is effectively no difference between a rainforest and a tropical jungle in terms of climate,” the bot replied.
Oh, cool, the bot was in my hallucination too. Mom and the walrus. It was now effectively a nightmare.
Then my mother stepped out from behind the giant Christmas tree. “Surprise! I’m here!” she said, then ran up and gave me a giant alien-mommy hug.
It was weird. Way too weird. I was half expecting octopus tentacles or those worms to spring out of her mouth and devour me.
“That isn’t really your mother. It’s a hallucination created by the aliens,” the bot said.
“I know. And you’re not really you either.”
“Correct.”
Mom released me from her hug. Which I hate to admit, actually felt good. It might be a hallucination, but it was a damn good one. I missed her and I kind of needed a hug right about now.
“Don’t let the aliens manipulate your feeble human emotions,” the bot said.
Mom smiled at me warmly, and then looked over at the walrus and sneered. She waved her hand, and POOF, it disappeared.
Wow. I wished I could do that. I’d give my whole military cred-salary to wave my hand and make the bot disappear.
Mom smiled big again. “I missed you so much!” She looked me up and down. “You’re too skinny. What are they feeding you on this galactic junk pile? Why aren’t you on your own star destroyer? You’d be so handsome as a captain on a star destroyer.”
“Mom, stop.”
“But baby, you’re so…”
“Stop it. I know you’re not my mother. Can we just talk, please?”
Mom’s face went all serious and thoughtful, like she did when she was trying to figure out whether to cook faux lasagna or albo stew. Two of my favorite meals.
“Do you really want us to send you back to your planet?” she asked.
As much as I wanted to say, “Yes! Send me back right now! Get me the hellvian out of here!” I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave Kat behind.
“She’s an alien,” my mother said.
“Not entirely. Kat’s in there.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Mom’s expression softened. “Wil, you’re the smartest, most handsome boy in the Regional Sector, but you don’t know anything my little chachka-bubby. I promise you she’s not in there.”
I couldn’t believe the aliens were using chachka-bubby against me!
“Wil, honey. I know you don’t want to admit it. I know how hard it is to move on. And how much it hurts. But she’s gone. She died on that planet. You just won’t let her go. You need to let her go and move on.”
Maybe alien-Mom was right. I wanted Kat back so badly that I couldn’t accept she was dead and gone a long time ago. I did need to let go.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’m back in my home quarters on Prime. I feel something wet touch my hand and look down to see Poka, wide-eyed and happily grinning. Dangling from her mouth is a chew toy. The Erkan squeaky one. It was her favorite. Not only did humans find Erkans unbearably cute, but Poka found them unbearably impossible not to chase and play tug of war with.
SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
“Not now, Pokes. I was doing something.” But I couldn’t quite remember what it was.
SQUEAK. She looked at me playfully, urging me into the action. I could’ve sworn I was about to do something. It was on the tip of my tongue. What was it?
SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
“Okay, fine. Let’s do this!” I grabbed the chew toy, and we went at it. Pulling and tugging and tossing the li'l Erkan until Poka and I were both panting and drooling. She was so damn strong and had so much energy. Whenever we played, my arm wound up running out of steam long before she did. I was shocked my right arm wasn’t larger than my left from all the tug of war we’d played.
When we finished, I grabbed a few of her favorite treats and took her fo
r a walk. Just another normal day on Prime.
It was cool, but not cold, and lots of people were out. Perfect outdoor weather. Oddly, I felt like I hadn’t been in a crowd for a really long time, but that made no sense. I’d just walked Poka yesterday, didn’t I?
She lunged at random things, as was her usual routine, and I regretted all the creds and time I’d spent on training. None of it had worked.
One of the dog-gurus I overpaid had said that without the training, she’d be even worse, but I wasn’t so sure. The only thing that seemed to slow her down was time. The older she got the more she chilled out. And when I say chilled out, I mean she was crazier than ninety percent of the dogs in the galaxy. She’s not a chill dog in any way, shape, or form. Even when she’s sleeping, she moans and barks and whines and moves her paws around like she’s running.
I enjoyed our daily walks. Even with all the lunging, pulling and sniffing. The exercise did us both good. She had some dog friends, too. Not many, but a few. And when she saw them, it was like the most amazing super mega thing ever! Like she hadn’t seen them in years!
It was just yesterday she’d seen Juniper. Her best friend ever. Both dogs would scramble and play until they were so tired they fell asleep on one another’s bellies. It was fraking cute as shat.
Juniper and Poka were best buds, but unfortunately me and Juniper’s “dad” didn’t like one another that much. We didn’t dislike one another; we just didn’t have anything in common except for the dogs. We had nothing to say. We’d just point at them playing and say, “Cute, right?” Then nod. “Yeah. Cute.”
We’d tried talking everything from sports to politics to intergalactic wars, but nothing clicked. We just weren’t on the same wavelength. He was a nice enough guy, whatever Juniper’s dad’s name was.
I could hardly imagine what it must be like for parents of young kids. All the other parents they’re forced to hang out with. I’m sure they meet a few good ones, but there must be so many parents they just don’t get on with, and then the ones they positively hate. But their kids love each other, so they’re stuck hating each other for the sake of the kids.
Parents. I hope I don’t hate them, if I ever have a kid. Give me a break. Who am I ever gonna have a kid with? I can’t even make the most important relationship I ever had work. I let the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with leave and go save some dolphins. Hellvian, I loved her. She was the one.
What was her name again?
After the walk, it was time for more snacks. Then some vids and, of course, a nap.
Then I was outside walking Poka again.
Then snacking, watching vids, and napping.
What was the love of my life’s name?
Then walking Poka.
Snacking.
Vids.
Nap.
Walking Poka that day, I saw the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. My heart went crazy. My hands started sweating. She wasn’t looking at me. I couldn’t see her face. But I knew she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I knew I was going to fall in love with her if she turned around.
What was her fraking name?
Then I was snacking and napping.
On the walk with Poka, I saw her again. She was so familiar. I don’t know why, but I knew she was the key to everything. If she’d just turn the frak around!
I started to call out to her, but before I could, I was snacking and napping again.
Walking Poka,
I saw her again and tried to yell…
But I was napping.
Dammit!
Walking Poka.
Okay, there she is. I’m going to…
Snacking.
Napping.
Shat!
Walking P— “Hey!” I screamed before I was snacking again. Had I done it in time, was the question? Please turn around. Please don’t make me snack and nap again. I need to see your face.
She slowly turned. It worked! She’d heard me. I was going to see the most beautiful woman in the world.
But when she finally turned around, she had no face at all. It was a blank slate. A mound of putty.
Shat!
Snacking, napping. Walking Poka.
What was her name again?
Walking, snacking.
You know her name, said the little voice in my head.
Napping.
You know her name,
Walking Poka I see the most gorgeous woman in the galaxy with her face made of putty.
You know her name.
Her face morphs. Starts to take shape.
You know her name!
“Kat!”
Chapter Thirty
I’m back in the rainforest with my mother and the Christmas tree. It’s a shock to my system, but not as bad as it’s been before. I shiver at the idea that I’m getting too used to living in a world of hallucinations.
Mom looks at me with surprise in her eyes.
“Didn’t expect me back?”
“I admit, we are impressed,” Mom replies.
“Can we stop with the mind games?”
“Isn’t there something else you want? We can give you anything. You can be with her. It can be perfect.”
“It can’t be perfect. We’re humans. Nothing’s ever perfect.”
“You can be with her on Deliva. We can send you there.”
“It’s not real.”
“It can be better than real. Your reality is flawed.”
“I like it flawed. Hogwarts and all. And I’m not making deals with the dogs of hellvian.”
“They need you to tell me it’s okay if I leave,” Kat said. And just like that, she was also inside my dream hallucination. It was getting crowded in here!
She turned to my mother and gave her a stern look, her eyes tight and focused. “Stop playing with his emotions. Tell him the truth.”
Mom began to shiver and shake. She melted into a blob and re-formed into what I could only describe as an amorphous 3D shadow. It was over six feet tall and had no discernible features. It reminded me of one of those wooden figures artists use to sketch with, where you can move the joints all around. A mannequin with no face.
Mom was definitely gone. And weirdly, I actually missed her. Kat was right; the aliens were toying with my emotions. Not only were they powerful, they were master manipulators. These things better not ever get to Prime, or we were done for.
“Is this acceptable?” the voice asked. It was deep and resonant, but also calm and soothing. It sounded a lot like my grandpa.
Kat nodded her approval. “Now, tell him the truth. Let him decide.”
The amorphous mannequin turned to me and spoke out of something resembling a mouth. It was more of a puckered hole, so I couldn’t help but be reminded of an anus. I knew it wasn’t the time to resort to three-year-old humor but I couldn’t help but smile.
“What is funny?” the mannequin asked. Its puckered mouth wiggling as it spoke.
“Nothing,” I replied trying to hold back a laugh.
The bot beeped. “He is juvenile. In my estimation, he is reacting to the contour of your speaking appendage.”
“Shut up, narc.”
The amorphous creature remolded its mouth hole until it became a normal pair of human lips. “Is this better?” it asked.
“It is correct,” the bot replied.
It was better. I wasn’t going to laugh, but it was surreal to be talking to a face with just a pair of lips on it.
“Tell him,” Kat repeated.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just literally cannot explain it in English. Something about the alien-human connection I have. It’s not translating properly.”
“You mean the Kat part of you is screwing up the communication?”
“Shut up. But yes.”
Again, I couldn’t help but smile. My Kat was in there. It wasn’t just an alien-induced fever drea
m. And she still had all her attitude and sass. I was sure she must be driving the alien inside her crazy. Poor alien.
On the other hand, it deserved every ounce of push back it was getting from her. I hoped she was winning whatever fight was going on inside.
I stared at the alien lips. “What do you want to tell me?”
“The Kat miscommunicated. It is a question,” it replied.
The Kat. I kind of liked the formal title. And it supported my theory that she was putting up a fight. You show them what us humans are capable of!
“Okay. So what is the question?”
“Can we take the Kat?” it replied.
“Take her where?”
“To the place.”
“What place?”
“THE place.”
I turned back to Kat. “You’re worse at communicating than they are?”
She shrugged. “Yup.”
Ugh, this was going to be a real issue. Astounding how bad these things were at human language. They could do so much. They read minds. They sent dreams. They reacted to feelings. Yet this relatively simple human thing was causing a lot of misfires.
So the aliens were still learning English. I knew it was the hardest language in the Global Alien Alliance to master, but I figured such an advanced species could figure it out with a snap of their fingers, or whatever they have.
I guess communication is really hard. Humans can barely say what they mean, and often say what they don’t. Not to mention all the lies we tell. No wonder the aliens were having a tough go of it. It was a wonder they could talk at all.
I got what might just be a good idea. It does happen from time to time.
“Do you think you can use the robot as translator?” I asked the mannequin. It made sense that it might be easier, since the programming was all ones and zeros and numbers. Math is supposed to be the universal language.
I was surprised the aliens hadn’t thought of doing that in the first place. But what did I know about alien psychology?
The mannequin nodded, then its mouth blinked turquoise and a second later the bot began flickering hues of green. I prayed it wasn’t about to turn serial killer again.
It made bizarre beeps I’d never heard before. Part cough, part giggle, part burp. Then its mouth hole started moving rapidly.