by Jim Melanson
She reached out and touched his arm as she looked over her shoulder at her own people, and then back at him. “Our mission is stable right now and we are performing routine diagnostics and observations. Let’s go watch things unfolding closer to home, and I’ll catch you up,” she loved American idioms. She introduced Kang to the First Assistant Mission Manager, gave him a few instructions, and then led Kang around to the stairs. Smiling, she guided him up the steps again to the top of the raised platform.
As they topped the raised circle, they leaned against the railing over the control area for Project 57-4 (Luna), and she quietly began explaining, “Several years ago, we began sending robotics to the Moon; our moon. We landed three of those packages successfully. One of those packages went to the dark side of the moon. Almost immediately, we discovered that there was an infrastructure in place there.”
“Infrastructure?” he looked at her.
“Yes. It wasn’t human.”
A sharp intake of breath indicated his surprise. Kang looked at her for a moment, and then looked up at the displays of the moon. The larger display showed an image that was just edging out around a ridge. A low structure along the face of a crater wall could be seen with dim lights in various places.
“Not human,” he said very quietly.
“Shall I continue?”
“Please Ms. Hahm, forgive me, proceed.”
She smiled as she straightened her shoulder length hair. She said, “We are going to be working very closely Sang. Please call me Joon.”
He smiled and nodded. She continued, “Our robotic made discrete observations for quite some time. It observed their spaceships exiting and entering the base over a period of months. There was very rarely any surface activity, just arrivals and departures. One day a departing ship came directly towards the robotic, and the signal was then terminated. They destroyed it, we assume.
Two years later we landed another robotic, this one a bit bigger, and armed. That one was discovered much faster and was attacked. It was, however, able to defend itself twice.”
“Only twice?”
“It only had two surface-to-air missiles. The extensive modifications for use in a vacuum meant we could only arm it with two. It had no defence on the third attack, other than its rugged good looks.”
Kang smiled at her joke, “And now?”
She looked back at the screen and continued. “The third package that landed in the same area moved under a flag of peace. I mean that literally. A long arm popped up after landing, and it had a large white flag on it. It also contained both hard wired and portable communications equipment. Anyways, it approached the installation you are looking at now, and then just sat there. Apparently the flag of peace was understood. After several hours a few small figures in space suits,” she shuddered, “horrid little creatures really, they came out and took the portable communications equipment inside. We then attempted to establish contact. We did have video both there and back, as well as audio. There were four distinctly different creatures that we saw. All were bi-pedal, but all quite different. They spoke at us, but their language was quite unintelligible. Well, to be accurate, only one of the creatures spoke at us. One of the other types of creatures spoke; but not to us. The other two types of creatures, while intently looking at us, said nothing. We assume they are telepathic, but I think we only assume that because the only other explanation is rudeness. The creatures that did speak to us, after much study by three specialists from the Pyongyang University of Foreign Studies, from the Ethnic Languages College, have asserted that the language seems to be quite similar to studied Proto-Slavic languages. They were only able to translate three words with some degree of certainty, ‘Away’, ‘No’, and ‘Welcome’. We still have access to the video, I can show you later.”
“Thank you, yes,” he said quietly but enthusiastically.
As they watched the large monitor, first one, then two, then four pairs of legs moved around the camera, illuminated by lights from the terrain vehicle they must have been riding in. They were all obviously dressed in traditional Chinese style space suits. The figures came into view, moving very slowly. Kang and Hahm both watched in silence for several minutes.
Finally Kang spoke up, “So those are our people then?”
“Yes.”
“The fourth mission is to the dark side of the moon?”
“Yes.”
“Heroes,” he almost whispered.
She gave a soft laugh, “If you say so.”
He looked at her and smiled. At least she didn’t have a stick up her ass, to coin an American phrase.
“The elite decided that it would be more beneficial if we could send our representatives there and attempt to establish first contact. They believe that by sending two astronauts, a party representative, and a linguist of Slavic languages, that they will be more likely to establish contact with them. More productive contact I mean.”
“That would seem reasonable.”
“The Commander of the landing team is my brother,” she smiled. “He’s scared shitless, but won’t admit it to anyone.”
Kang just looked at her and looked back at the screen.
“He’s always lived at home. I can read him like a book. The last thing he wanted to do was go to the Moon on this mission to meet aliens.”
Kang would have asked why he went, but already knew the answer. To refuse such a prestigious assignment would have meant the end of his career. He would have wound up a minor functionary in a remote government office if, and only if, he didn’t wind up with a bullet in his head.
There were a few people stirring and talking excitedly down in the Project 57-4 “pit” as the four sections were called. Focussing on the screen, Kang and Hahm could see that the lighting had changed subtly, and the four suited Koreans were moving a bit, to allow a better view for the cameras. A door had opened in the structure on the crater wall, a small door, only about four feet wide. There stood a single figure in the doorway. It, too, wore a space suit but had a really, really large helmet. It was too far from the camera to make out any details. As if he had read their thoughts, the tech operating the camera slowly zoomed in on the creature. Unlike Sweden’s feed from Mars, this truly was in real-time. What they finally could see was, to their perception, quite hideous.
Something dark moved across the camera, and then out of sight. As the camera started to release the zoom and show more of what it could see, dozens of smaller creatures in simple space suits came pouring through the doorway. They rushed past the side of the slightly taller figure, still standing by itself. The smaller creatures were all running towards the camera. As the camera zoom pulled fully backwards, the room was filled with gasps and then hushed silence. The four Koreans in their space suits were sprawled on the ground, as though they had just fallen asleep. The Medical techs confirmed they were still getting life signs’ telemetry, so they knew the astronauts were not dead.
Kang glanced quickly sideways, and could see the concern for her brother was now evident on Hahm’s face, even though she was trying hard to hide it.
The little creatures emerging through the doorway quickly approached the sprawled North Korean astronauts. The creatures surrounded each body, and then the bodies lifted up. It didn’t look like the little things were actually touching the astronauts, but they were focused on them intently. The little creatures’ faceplates were darkened so they couldn’t really see what they looked like. The focus of intensity came from their posture, and the fact they were ignoring the camera and land transport it was mounted to. They started walking back towards the open doorway in the crater wall. The four North Korean astronauts seemed to be floating between them. The figure in the doorway stepped back, allowing each floating body and its retinue of creatures to enter the airlock, and then it turned out of sight. When the last one was through the door; the larger, hideous creature came back to stand in the opening. As he did so, nine of the little creatures re-emerged. This time they appeared to be holding
some kind of weapon, though its abilities and ammunition could not be discerned. The nine creatures formed a line directly in front of, and across the field of view of the camera. They squatted down on their haunches, weapons held tightly in their hands, and there they stayed. In the background, the larger creature stepped backwards, and the airlock door closed.
Kang glanced sideways at Hahm. She had a hand over her mouth, and tears were rimming her eyes. All she said was the name of her brother, “Jin.”
Sapro
Oboo and Adla hurried up the path beside the infirmary. They were on the way to Kam’s house to share the celebration dinner. It didn’t take long to reach it. The singing had not started yet, so they rushed through the door without knocking. As they were old and dear friends of Kam and Falla, this was not considered overly rude, just slightly impolite.
Oboo joined Kam, Saklt and Piv in the dining/living area, while Adla joined Kam’s wife Falla and the other two wives in the kitchen. Adla had been carrying an earthenware pot of wine braised vegetables. She loved the aroma of the sparing dash of the Terran spices from the closely hoarded supply in her kitchen. This one was called sin-a-man, she had been told. Her husband was an engineering mate on the off-cycle transport runs. He had made friends with the human kitchen staff on the Terrans’ other planet, the red one, and they gave him samples from time to time. Oboo could have been a great trader, but he loved being in the Protective Service so much that Adla never made an issue of it. They lived comfortably, and to an Eben, that was all that was necessary.
The sound of laughing and teasing children drifted in through the open windows and doors on the warm semidusk of a Saproan winter’s night. The candles around the dining area, and the increasingly laden table gave a warm glow that complemented the evening and the purpose of the celebration. The muted browns and dark orange-red colours of the smooth hand plastered walls of the adobe type structure (to use a Terran term) reflected the light softly, providing a very serene and inviting living space.
Little MuJu KamPen walked in with an armful of Alyak flowers, and placed them in the brightly painted pottery vase that his mother had set out for this. He placed the vase in the middle of the table with his little arms, straining under the weight of the pottery and water.
Kam hovered close by as he did this, trying not to embarrass his young son with overbearing behaviour, but also to not embarrass him by allowing him to drop or spill the vase in front of the others. MuJu was at that sensitive age where years of support were now being pushed back by the need for self-definition as part of the child’s growth process.
All of the men watched out of the corner of their eyes. They all held their breath momentarily as the vase, heavy with flowers and water, tottered a tiny bit. They all exhaled together as MuJu braced his elbows on the table to steady the vase. Once in place, he turned and beamed up at his father. Kam wrapped him in his long arms, and praised him for a job well done; and for doing it so carefully. The other fathers all came over and touched MuJu on the head, in the Eben way of solicitous affection for children. They each complimented him on his selection of flowers and how beautiful they were. MuJu, delighted, ran outside to be with his sibs and the other children. The smiling men stood loosely together and blocked the kitchen occupants’ view, as Kam pulled the poisonous Yinshi stalks out of the vase, surreptitiously discarding them before Falla noticed. The wives tended to be a little more firm and direct in such matters with the children.
The four families, all lifelong friends, were gathered to celebrate the birth of Piv and his wife Lata’s third child. Three children were the limit on Sapro, and she would soon undergo the excision to prevent any more. This was a limitation that all Eben hated, but that they fully embraced and respected for its necessity. Many close galactic examples of top heavy societal collapses just reinforced the necessity of this concept. This limitation allowed their society to grow at a pace that could be supported.
For tonight though, minds were not on such things. Piv and Lata’s family had just grown by one more child, and all thoughts were on the hopes and desires for the child’s growth and his future role in society. More importantly, they were rejoicing at how the love in that family had just recently been given the opportunity to grow as well.
The women joined the men in the dining space, placing the last of the prepared dishes on the table - what we would call a Harvest table. Saklt and his wife Adla (she shared the same given name as Oboo’s wife) called in all the children. The older ones sat at the table with the adults, while the younger ones (the ones younger than MuJu), all sat on a parent’s lap. In the case of Saklt and his wife Adla, their third child sat on Falla’s lap; as her children were all old enough for their own sitting place.
As the evening’s host, Kam stood and the others, including the children, automatically stopped talking to listen to their host. Kam began by offering a prayer of thanks and gratitude to the Great Father. The Eben believed that wherever two or three were gathered, the Great Father was always present and therefore, always acknowledged His presence with humble and grateful hearts.
Kam then went on to speak about the blessing and responsibility of parenthood, including the special bond with the last child. The last child always got just a little bit more and stayed at home just a little bit longer. Both parents inevitably paid just that extra bit of attention, because they knew there would not be a fourth; although the Eben would gratefully and enthusiastically raise twenty or more if they could, as they had in the ancient times.
After his short speech, one that had been said in a similar manner millions of times for thousands of years across their society, Kam led his guests in the traditional song of family. It was a lilting and fun song that turned into a ballad, and then back into a light ditty. All of those present that knew the song, sang along. The children that didn’t know it yet listened intently and repeated it as closely as possible.
The candlelight glinted off their solid black, large Eben eyes. For some, a slight sheen of perspiration on their bald heads allowed a bit more twinkle from the burning light. The men’s black tunics were always countered by their wives’ bright and deeply coloured ruffled blouses and ankle-length skirts. Modesty was not mandated by society, but only the adolescents would wear revealing clothing.
Gifting and presents were not the way of the Eben, instead it was personal interaction and involvement that was considered the truest gift of respect or affection. However, gifts were not unheard of, as was the case this evening. Saklt and Adla’s eldest child, their daughter Keeva, was learning the skill of sewing. For this evening’s celebration, Keeva had sewn two jumpers and a blanket for the recently born infant. After the gathered group had finished their song, Keeva (her name meant breathe, which was also the traditional Eben greeting) ran to the kitchen and retrieved these items from her mother’s bag. As wrapping paper and such frippery were unheard of on Sapro, the gifts were wrapped the traditional way. They were tied up in big, green Kayam leaves. With great praise and much gratitude, Lata accepted the gifts on behalf of the infant. She invited young Keeva to come to their home the following day, after first sleep, to try them on the youngling.
In Eben society the eldest woman of the house is the master of the house, the owner of the house, and the one responsible for all the actions of those who live in the house. Kam’s wife Falla was a model of Eben womanhood. She ran a tight ship, and everyone knew what was expected of them. She was also a giving, gracious, and loving hostess. As the hostess, Falla allowed Piv’s wife Lata, the honour of serving the table. It was Lata’s third child being celebrated tonight, so their culture would expect that she display her gratitude to the others for their sharing of love with her and her family. Being a good husband, Piv handed the child on his lap to the adolescent next to him, and immediately began assisting Lata in her service of their friends.
Eben meals are usually simple, quick, and perfunctory affairs; unless there is a celebration. Then they can last an exhaustingly long time, as many
human visitors to the planet have found out. Eventually, the food was eaten, the small amount of Molyak wine had been consumed, and the tart and tangy citrus dessert had been portioned, shared and consumed.
The celebration caused the house to have a large complement of adolescents, eight in total. The eldest daughter of Kam and Falla, named Joose, was honoured with the charge of the kitchen and dining area for the remainder of the evening. Joose practically radiated with pride over the honour and responsibility handed to her so unexpectedly. She immediately lined up the five boys, and detailed exactly what they must do in clearing the table of dishes and serving pots. The actual washing up and drying of the cookery and table service was reserved for Joose and the two other adolescent girls, Keeva and Sela. The boys were just not quite reliable enough yet, at their tender ages, to be trusted not to break everything they tried to wash, dry, and place in the cupboards. Adolescent Eben males tended to be a bit, shall we say, clumsy.
Falla took the women out to the back terrace. She had secreted another small bottle of Molyak wine there. With surreptitious smiles, the woman with solid black eyes unabashedly held out their glasses. They all silently shared the sentiment that frankly, what the men folk didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Kam, Oboo, Saklt and Piv took hot mugs of spiced tea and strolled down the lane in front of Kam’s house. They soon wound up sitting on the bank of the creek that supplied their neighbourhoods fresh water needs. These four families all lived near each other. The four men, all military men, worked together at the Protective Services detachment in their province.
Kam had something he wanted to discuss with the men, and was trying to come up with a delicate way of broaching the topic. Oboo, however, wasn’t nearly as politically astute as Kam. Having mulled over a similar thought, unbeknownst to the two of them, Oboo blurted it right out to start the conversation.