Transgalactic Antics

by J. J. Green

  Carrie opened her mouth, but decided against speaking, and closed it again.

  “A plentiful supply of respirator tablets is available for those who need them. I repeat, please read your briefing documents thoroughly before leaving the ship and travelling to the coordinates programmed into your briefing device. Underwater scramblers are available outside the airlock.”

  “What are they?” asked Carrie. “Like aquatic motorbikes or something?”

  “I believe you could say so,” answered Errruorerrrrrhch.

  “Cool,” exclaimed Carrie. She had put on only the lower half of her wetsuit. The upper half hung down from her hips. She pulled it up and slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Hey, if we run out of respirator tablets, it isn’t that much of a problem, is it? I mean, we can just swim up to the surface, right?”

  “Gaginion’s atmosphere is composed almost entirely of carbon dioxide. I do not think it would offer a human much benefit if you were attempt to breathe it.”

  “Oh...okay.” Carrie zipped the wetsuit up to her chin and picked up her helmet.

  “Don’t you think you should read the briefing first?” asked Dave.

  “No, it’s fine. Errruorerrrrrhch told us the important parts, and I can read the rest on the way.” She put on her helmet and picked up her fins. Dave reached over, pulled the helmet off her head and put it down on the floor.

  “Carrie, read the briefing document.”

  “Hey...oh...fine.” Putting down her fins, she pulled the tablet of clear plastic out of her Liaison Officer toolbox, thumbed it until she reached the correct screen and hastily scanned the text. The other trainees milled around, getting ready to leave. Carrie paged ahead to images of the marsoliie. The briefing device played a video of a bright scarlet creature moving through water. It looked similar to a starfish except that it had eight legs, and they were frilled and flexible. The animal swam by undulating its legs and body, and it travelled in a delicate, pulsating flurry of movement. “Wow, amazing.” As Carrie watched, a set of joined marsoliie appeared. The Group was a large ball of billowing legs. It approached the Single, grabbing one its legs with several of its own. After drawing the Single close, it attached the centre of its body to its mass. The conjoined animals then beat their legs as one and disappeared out of the frame. Carrie nodded. “I see.”

  She picked up her helmet and fins and grabbed a handful of respirator tablets, which she shoved into her Liaison Officer toolbox. She said a quick goodbye to Dave and, banging her fist on the airlock door, she called, “Open up.” A scent of salty gardenias came from the translator in her toolbox, and the door hissed open. She stepped inside, and Audrey rolled in with her. Like everything else that Audrey carried, her toolbox was somewhere inside her. Her huge wetsuit covered most of her body. A portion of green poked through a hole, and, for Carrie’s benefit, Audrey formed it into a human-like head and gave Carrie a smile.

  The other trainees were still reading their briefing devices and getting ready. Carrie didn’t want to wait, so she told the door to close. “Good luck,” she said to Audrey. She burped in reply, which Carrie’s translated relayed to her mind as “Thanks, you too.”

  “Wait a moment, please, Carrie,” said a familiar voice. Gavin and his children had appeared. The airlock door was closing.

  “Sorry, I’m going on an assignment,” Carrie said. “No time to talk.”

  “I wanted to inform you—”

  “I’ll see you when I get back.” The airlock door closed, shutting out the light from the corridor. Only the pale air lock light and the watery green beams through the window illuminated the space. Water began to enter the chamber from vents in the outer door. Carrie put on her fins and helmet, ripped open a respirator tablet and popped it into the receptacle in front of her mouth and nose. The water had risen to her knees. Audrey floated on the surface, bobbing gently. Carrie pulled her bag’s strap over her head and zipped it closed. She wasn’t going to risk all her useful devices disappearing into the ocean.

  She grinned at Audrey, who bumped her in return. The water rose higher until she, too, was floating. She dipped her head beneath the surface, breathing deeply as she did so. Her respirator tablet was working, and the indicator was way over to the left, which meant it was at maximum capacity. When the needle reached the centre she was supposed to exchange the tablet for another, though she wouldn’t be in any danger of oxygen starvation until the needle swung far to the right.

  At last the water reached the top of the airlock and Carrie and Audrey were entirely submerged. The outer door began to open. As soon as there was room for her, Carrie slipped beneath it, giving Audrey a wave. Outside the starship, she stopped a moment to take stock of her surroundings. Though mysterious depths sank away beneath her and watery shadows encircled, excitement surged through her at finally being free of the confines of the starship.

  She spun to locate the aquatic motorbikes. As Errruorerrrrrhch had said, they were tethered to the starship, floating in a line. The underwater scooters were in a range of sizes and shapes. Two of them looked as though they were made for humans, and Carrie swam to the nearest one and strapped herself in. Her heart was racing. After far too many days of boring training, she was finally off to do her job.

  Cautiously, she opened her bag and fished inside. She pulled out the briefing device and slotted it into a frame on the water scooter dashboard. Coordinates flashed. She gripped the machine’s handles and rotated the right grip. It sprang forward, but stopped. Carrie looked back to see what the problem was. Her scooter was dragging at the others that were tethered to the line. Audrey, who had just boarded hers, had been bounced off and was floating away.

  “Sorry,” called Carrie as she released her scooter from its tether. She was off, zooming through the water.

  Chapter Twelve – Strange Encounters

  On her way to the meeting of Single and Group marsoliie, Carrie encountered other creatures living in the ocean. For a while her water scooter carried her underneath a large mass that she assumed was a raft of seaweed or another non-intelligent substance—until the mass began to shift and she heard a voice that sounded like the tinkling of bells. “You’re one of those Transgalactic Council Officers, aren’t you. Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”

  Carrie stopped her scooter. All around nothing else was visible but the slowly moving raft above her. She looked up at the dark vegetation. “Sorry, I didn’t notice...I mean, I didn’t think...I mean, sorry. Hello.”

  “You’re here to stop the those marsoliie fighting, I assume? A good thing, too. They should all stay as Singles. A large Group gets in the way. Can’t go over it, can’t go under it. Have to go round it. Everyone would be much better off if they were all Singles.”

  “We’re going to do what we can,” replied Carrie, wondering how big the Groups could grow if they got in the way of the monster above her. “I’m here to oversee a mediation meeting. But resources are stretched because of the problem with the placktoids.”

  “I heard about that,” said the Thing above. “I’d like to see them try to come here. I’d soon deal with them.”

  I’m sure you would, thought Carrie, gazing into the dark, amorphous shape. The green light of the alien sun filtered through the water at the edge of it, in the distance. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, but I really must get on.” She started her scooter and whizzed forward.

  A distance meter was ticking down on her display. According to the meter, she had nearly arrived at the meeting place, though she couldn’t yet see any sign of the marsoliie. She wondered what their dwellings looked like. This area of the ocean was quite shallow, and she had seen apparently artificial shapes below, but she didn’t know if they belonged to the marsoliie or another of the planet’s sentient species. Or even if they were constructed and not natural.

  As she looked up, she spotted a mass of scarlet ahead. The right side of the mass was much larger than the left, which looked thin and wispy in comparison. As she drew closer
the mass became more defined. To the right were large Groups of marsoliie, all their many legs writhing in a frilled throng. To the left were Singles, which were pulsating and flowing and floating in a beautiful sychronised dance.

  Carrie slowed her scooter to get a better look at the Singles. A deep, smooth tenor voice sounded in her head, growing louder as she approached. It was announcing the beginning of the meeting, “as the Transgalactic Council Officer has arrived.”

  Floating forward on the last of her scooter’s momentum, Carrie was nearly among the marsoliie before a sudden realisation struck her: how was she supposed to speak to these aliens? Would they hear her through her helmet? Probably not. Did they use telepathy to talk to each other? Gavin had told her once that humans weren’t very telepathic. She frowned. Had there been something about communication media in the briefing document? Maybe she had skipped that part. She would just have to try her best.

  She clipped her scooter’s tether to her belt and kicked her fins to bring her the last few metres to the waiting marsoliie. “Hi.” As she spoke, her right arm flipped up. Carrie blinked. She pulled her arm down. “I’m Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer Hatch—oh my goodness.” Her arms had flown up, gesticulating wildly, and her body twisted round. At the same time her knees moved akimbo and both her legs kicked out. By the time the word ‘goodness’ was out of her mouth, she was upside down and facing away from the watching aliens.

  Carrie caught her breath as she tried to understand what was happening. She spun round and turned herself right side up. “I—“ Her head flew back. “Would like—” She shimmied. “To—” Her hips ground. “Apologise for my behaviour.” She finished in a rush while she pirouetted, shuddered and turned a cartwheel.

  “I’m not sure I understand you,” replied the Single marsoliie, undulating as his voice sounded in Carrie’s mind. “You have nothing to apologise for. Shall we start the meeting?”

  Her body rigid, Carrie whispered, “Yes.” As the word left her lips, she gave the marsoliie the finger. With both hands. She gripped her arms to her chest. What was going on?

  The marsoliie were motionless except for the Single who had apparently spoken. He began to billow and ripple in an elegant frolic. “We would like to begin the meeting by thanking our neighbourhood Groups for coming,” he said. “We hope we can resolve our differences amicably and to everyone’s satisfaction.”

  Light began to dawn in Carrie’s mind. The marsoliie communicated through body language. Whenever she spoke her translator prompted her body to move, conveying the meaning of her words to the marsoliie. With her new understanding, her heart slowed. She hadn’t been incredibly rude. In the marsoliie’s eyes—or whatever it was they saw with—she’d been acting normally. She exhaled with relief. She couldn’t afford to mess this up, what with her being on remedial training. Her lips tightened.

  A Group marsoliie began to move its legs in delicate synchronisation. “We certainly hope so too. We’d like to take the opportunity to explain our position and clear up any misunderstandings you may have.”

  “Well, we’re happy to listen to whatever you have to say,” replied the Single. “So, let’s each start by stating our viewpoints. Would you like to go first?”

  “Thank you,” said the Group. “I’d like to begin by making it clear we are only acting according to the facts stated in the Natural Lives of Marsoliie.”

  A Single to one side shivered, and Carrie heard, “You can hardly call them facts.”

  The Group ignored the comment and continued, “It’s well known that Group marsoliie are healthier, live longer and reproduce more often. We have the benefit of enhanced intelligence through the amalgamation of minds and shared histories and experiences, and we use up fewer resources because we’re more efficient. Communal living is good for everyone, and it’s the natural way. This is how our species evolved to be. Remaining Single at maturity is a deviation. It’s bad for you. We just want to help you understand that.”

  The Group expanded its argument, and Carrie’s attention wandered. It was only repeating what Errruorerrrrrhch had already told her, just in a longer, more roundabout and boring way. Her gaze drifted down. Below were the square shapes that she supposed were marsoliie residences. On the same level as her, but on the far side of the marsoliie, was a silvery shape. With a jolt she realised the object wasn’t an animal or other natural inhabitant of Gaginion, it was an underwater scooter similar to her own.

  Her head swivelling, she tried to find the scooter’s owner, but there didn’t seem to be any non-locals there except herself. A different voice begin to speak, and her attention was drawn back to the meeting. It was the Single who seemed to represent the others. “On behalf of my fellow citizens I thank you for stating your views so concisely and eloquently.” This brought a shuddering among the Groups that Carrie’s translator conveyed as applause. “I’m happy to reassure you that I can be equally concise, if not more so.

  “Our response is, even if we were to concede that everything you say is true—which we do not, though I agree there is research that seems to back up a little of what you say—even if we were to concede those points, it doesn’t change the fact that we have the right to choose what we do with our own bodies. It’s an inviolable right under Transgalactic Law, and adding Singles to your Groups without their consent is illegal, plain and simple.”

  “Ah yes, I’m familiar with this argument,” replied the Group, “but it only applies if you consider your bodies to be your own, which under marsoliie natural law, the law of our species, they are not.”

  “Hey, get off me,” came a third voice. On the edge of the gathering a Group had approached a Single and was holding onto one of its legs. The Single was tugging to get away.

  “Stop that over there,” called Carrie, performing a combination of star jumps and sit ups. Her arms and legs finally came to rest, and she saw movement near the two tussling marsoliie. It was the owner of the other water scooter. Invisible before due to his camouflage uniform, which was the colour of the sea, a Unity soldier was now visible against the background of the large Group. He was approaching the creature, a long staff with rounded tips in his hand. Carrie blinked and squinted. She’d been mistaken. The soldier wasn’t a man, it was a large woman.

  The soldier jabbed the Group in the middle with his staff, but it didn’t relinquish its hold on the Single, who was beginning to turn limp. The Group pulled at the Single’s leg, and it allowed itself to be dragged closer. The soldier jabbed the Group again, harder.

  “This is outrageous,” exclaimed the Single representative. “This is exactly the kind of thing we’re talking about. Command your colleague to withdraw at once.”

  The attacking Group grabbed the staff, pulling the soldier towards it. She delivered a well-aimed kick, which broke the Group’s grasp. But another leg came up and quickly grasped the soldier around her middle.

  “Hey,” shouted Carrie, and backflipped. As soon as she righted herself, she tugged on her tether, pulling her water scooter over. Clamping her lips shut to avoid the temptation to say anything else, she leapt onto her vehicle.

  “Please don’t do that,” called the Group to its fellow, “I know you’re only trying to do the right thing, but now is not the time nor the place.”

  Carrie was already on her way over to help the soldier. The Group had released the Single, which was moving lazily, as if coming to its senses. The Group continued to battle with the soldier, however. Its tentacles were wrapped round her leg, arm and hips, but the soldier was putting up a good fight. She managed to free her staff from the Group’s grip and drive it into its centre with a force that made Carrie wince. There was a roar, and the Group let go of the soldier’s arm and leg. Then the tentacle holding the soldier’s hips reeled in, drawing the soldier closer like a yoyo. She curled into a ball and turned head over heels, twisting the tentacle in a way that must have been very painful, for the Group finally let go. The soldier kneed the creature’s middl
e and shoved it away from her with the sole of her foot. It pulsated once, then swam off slowly.

  “I apologise for that,” said the Group representative. Singles and Groups began chattering about the incident, and the meeting grew loud.

  Impressed by the soldier’s fighting skills but not wanting to risk having her words turned into physical contortions, Carrie gave her a thumbs up.

  Chapter Thirteen – Blast From the Past

  By the end of the meeting, demarcation lines had been drawn up and agreed by the Group and Single marsoliie, with many expressions of sadness on the part of the Groups, who complained about the Singles’ determination to ‘divide the community’. Satisfied she had done a reasonable job—performing several strange and occasionally painful gyrations—and the discussion had positive outcome, Carrie headed back to the Council starship.

  She hadn’t gone far before her respirator indicator needle reached the centre of the dial. She stopped her water scooter to insert a new tablet. The machine floated idly round as she was fiddling with the receptacle in her helmet. After pulling out the old tablet and slotting the new one in place, she glanced up. Behind her was the silver vehicle of the Unity soldier, who was following in her wake. She waited to allow the soldier time to catch up, wondering what she was doing. Was the Unity starship in the same vicinity as the Council’s? The woman reached Carrie, but she didn’t stop. She sped past without even a glance in Carrie's direction.

  Carrie shrugged and started up her vehicle. Her coordinates led her along the same route at the soldier. The Council starship emerged from the gloom ahead. The soldier was heading straight for it. Frowning, Carrie tried to remember if she had seen any Unity presence on board. She was sure she hadn’t. Maybe the soldier was lost? But if that was the case, why didn’t she stop and ask Carrie for help?