Neighbors

by Brian Whiting

  This time, Timmy reached out with his index finger and touched both

  dots. The glyph brightened and disappeared. Three seconds later, another

  appeared: a single glyph with three dots side by side.

  Pete reached out and touched the group of three dots with his index

  finger. Nothing happened.

  “Use your thumb!” Pete looked dead serious towards Timmy.

  “Why?”

  “I want to test whether it responds to just your index finger or if it cares

  at all.”

  “You’ve been in the tunnel too long. When was the last time you went

  out and saw the sun?”

  “Just do it!” Pete seemed frustrated by the waste of time.

  Timmy reached out with his thumb and touched all three dots. The

  glyph brightened and disappeared. Seconds later, four dots appeared.

  “What do you think it’s doing?” Timmy took a step away from the orb

  and walked around to the other side. As he did, the glyph moved and fol-

  lowed him so that it was always facing him.

  Pete ran over to the computer and typed furiously.

  Timmy stepped toward the orb again and tapped all four dots in quick

  succession. The glyph brightened and disappeared. The next glyph that

  appeared was a horizontal line.

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  “It’s teaching us to count!” Pete shouted from the computer.

  “I already know how to count.”

  Pete chuckled briefly. “No, I mean it’s teaching us how to read

  their numbers.”

  “I thought that was obvious already. Why else would I be pushing ever

  increasing dots?”

  Pete grumbled something that Timmy couldn’t hear.

  Timmy touched the bar five times, but nothing happened. “Huh?”

  “What?” Pete left the computer and walked over.

  “I touched it five times. Nothing happened.”

  Timmy tried tapping on the line five times. Again, nothing happened.

  Timmy dragged his finger from the left side of the line to the right, and the

  glyph brightened and disappeared.

  Seconds later, a new glyph appeared.

  “I imagine this is gonna be a while. Can you get me some breakfast?”

  “It’s dinner time, actually.”

  “I don’t care! Food and drink will be fine.” He reacted a bit harsher

  than he really wanted, frustrated about not knowing how long he was going

  to have to count.

  Timmy walked over to his chair and sat down, watching the glyph

  follow him to his seat. Staring at the glyph, he reached out, both relieved

  that great progress was being made, and concerned about how long he

  would sit there counting for the orb.

  * * *

  Standing outside the door, he closed his eyes. Feeling a kink in his neck, he

  moved his head, around trying to work it free. Rolling his shoulders and

  with his eyes still closed, he purposefully took several deep breaths. This

  time, as he exhaled, he imagined all the stress and the horrors of work leav-

  ing his body. He prepared himself for what he knew was about to happen.

  His keys jingled as he inserted one of them into the lock of the door.

  From inside, he could hear thumping in rapid progress, growing louder.

  The door unlocked; he opened it and entered the room.

  “Daddy!”

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  Both of his little girls ran around a nearby corner of the dwelling and jumped onto him at the first opportunity.

  “Oh, my angels, how are you today?”

  “Did you make the monsters go away again today?” the younger

  girl asked.

  “He already told you they’re dead. Our daddy works in space now.”

  “No, he doesn’t, he just—”

  His wife Debra walked into the area and hugged the lot of them, kiss-

  ing Grissom. “How was your day?”

  “It was good.” He looked down at his kids. “Who’s hungry?” The aroma

  of cooking was evident in the air.

  “We already ate.” The girls let go of their father and slid down either

  side of his body until their toes touched the cold tile floor.

  Grissom frowned in disappointment and looked at Debra question-

  ingly. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders and slowly walked to the dining

  room. Grissom was quick to follow.

  The table that could seat six was decorated with candles. Most were

  heavily used, a couple nearly untouched. Two chairs sat side by side on the

  other side of the table. The lights in the room were turned down low, and

  the kids disappeared from the area.

  “What are the kids doing?”

  “I’ve been holding out from letting them watch that movie they have

  been dying to see. They will be well occupied for the next one hundred and

  twenty-two minutes, plus advertisements.” She slowly draped an arm over

  his shoulder as she escorted him to his seat.

  “How very cunning of you, wife,” he said, smiling as he sat down in

  his chair.

  “Oh, I have learned from the best.” Debra put down a glass of wine and

  pulled out her chair.

  “I don’t generally accept flattery, but—”

  “I am talking about my mother!” She froze, cocking her head to the

  side with big eyes, raised eyebrows and an expectant expression, hiding

  a smile.

  “Of course, how silly of me.”

  Debra filled their plates with the different food selections arrayed at

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  the table. Wild rice mixed with well-steamed carrots and peas, an apple and banana each, and a loaf of bread that had been torn into already. Then

  Debra reached forward and lifted a hood, revealing the main selection.

  Sirloin, cut into thin strips, mixed with onion and green peppers.

  “Wow, springing for all the extras today, aren’t we!”

  “Well…” Debra hid a devious smile. “Better get used to it,”

  Grissom’s body went rigid, and he pushed the table away while glaring

  at Debra. “I told you, we don’t use my position as a privilege for anything.”

  Debra pretended to be disappointed and looked away from him. “I see.

  Always got to make things about you, don’t you?” she snapped.

  Grissom stood up from the table. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I fancy how you jump to conclusions, that I got this food

  because of you!”

  “So how did you get the food, then?”

  “You can’t think of any way a woman might have been able to get

  choice foods?”

  Grissom’s mind raced, but the longer he thought about it, the darker his

  mind went, and he stopped himself before he let himself get carried away.

  “Not so cunning today, are we?”

  Grissom pursed his lips and squinted at her, but the effort brought him

  no closer to an answer.

  Debra stood slowly and took a slow dramatic step towards him a slight

  sway in her hips, her head down and eyes locked onto him, a lock of hair

  partially obscuring her face. Grissom didn’t move, as he waited for her to

  get to the point while being entirely distracted by her bodily movements.

  “Really, you can’t think of…any reason…why a woman…would get

  choice food?” she asked, tucking her loose hair back behind her ear. She let

  the comment linger in the air for a moment and moved her hands to her

  belly, rubbing it slowly.

  Rea
lization immediately dawned on him, and he closed the space

  between them nearly instantly. He held her with fierce passion, with great

  emotional tears running down his face.

  “Now, he gets it,” she said softly into his ear, a smile held wide on

  her face.

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  * * *

  “Just get to the river!” the man shouted from behind.

  “We will never make it, it’s way too far!”

  In the distance, small pops from a pistol broke through the trees, fol-

  lowed by terrible, gut-wrenching screams. If she could will her feet to move

  faster, she would have. As it was, they just didn’t seem fast enough.

  “How many does that leave us?” asked a woman breathlessly, running

  alongside her, weaving around trees and jumping over a large root and

  fallen tree trunks.

  “Five, but Luis is falling behind.” She managed to say one word at a

  time between breaths. She turned to look back at her colleague. His red

  rescue shirt was a sharp contrast against the jungle.

  “Forgot about me! I’ll distract them,” he said, panting heavily and

  slowing to rest against a tree.

  The other four continued to run, finally exiting the canopy of the

  jungle into a very large field filled with tall grass that blocked their view.

  Yet they continued to run despite the danger. The ground was uneven, and

  she heard her friend fall just off to her side. Fear gripped her, unsure if he fell because he was next, or if he hit an uneven patch of ground, hidden

  by the tall grass. She didn’t look back, in spite of her instinct to do so, and kept running.

  “I’m okay!” he shouted as he stood back up. He continued to run,

  panting heavily and limping a little on his left leg. They had no idea what

  direction his friends were running in, surrounded as they were by grass

  taller than them.

  Luis screamed terribly from behind them, the noise encouraging them

  into a second wind. He run as fast as he could away from that scream,

  knowing that there was now nothing between him and the killing machine

  trailing them except a rapidly-closing distance.

  He was almost halfway across the field when his foot caught in a rabbit

  hole, sending him face-first into the firm soil, his forehead smacking a rock.

  He opened his eyes, about to scramble to his feet, but a Zorn leg appeared

  in the corner of his eye. He froze as another leg appeared. It walked directly 275

  over him, inches away from his face. Trembling, he struggled to keep from moving or making any sound, playing dead in the dirt.

  Something caught his attention in the sky. An odd-looking collection

  of cargo containers floated in the air, looking so ridiculously out of place

  that he thought he was hallucinating, or that he was dead.

  A red beam of light appeared, shooting towards the Zorn. The crea-

  ture made a terrible whistling sound and took off away from him. The red

  beam appeared again, this time for much longer, aiming after the Zorn.

  The drone, rushing through the tall grass, suddenly grew silent as the grass

  caught on fire around it, spreading quickly.

  Noticing the new danger, he stood up and tried to run, but his head

  swam, causing him to stumble. Too dizzy to realize where he was going, he

  walked right onto a metal ramp of some kind. He managed to focus, look-

  ing up and into one of the container craft. A man sat at the far end of the

  container, a headset over his ears.

  “Get in a seat, quick!” he waved him on.

  Without questioning his fortune, he moved to one of several large seats

  lining the walls. “Find my friends, they were right ahead of me,” he said

  in Spanish.

  The pilot wasted no time as he lifted the craft from the group, flying in

  a wide circle.

  “Are you with the UEF?” he asked in Spanish.

  “No, my name is Jorge. I was just in the area,” the pilot replied in the

  same language.

  Jorge quickly found the other people and landed the craft in front

  of them. They hesitated until they saw their friend in the seat, then

  exchanged glances.

  “Why are you standing there? Get on!”

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  Chapter 25

  Unexpected

  THE UEF ENTERPRISE was back exploring space, far from home. They

  visited star after star on their list but discovered no obvious civilizations.

  They were heading to Wolf 1061 next, one of the last stars to scout out

  before they returned home for the christening of their sister ship, the

  UEF Discovery.

  The blue interior lights of the ship during FTL transition disappeared,

  and the ship shuddered a little as the warp bubble collapsed.

  “Welcome to Wolf 1061, Captain,” Symboli stated.

  “Initiating scans,” the sensor operator said out of habit.

  Alex pulled up the sensor display scans onto his display screen. The

  screen initially showed just the star, then quickly added several smaller

  planets and their orbits, followed by a band signifying the standard asteroid

  belt present in every star system they visited so far, though their densities

  varied greatly.

  The sensor screen turned red as icons appeared across the screen.

  “Sir, detecting active scans,” the tactical officer announced.

  “Picking up multiple signals. Our communication array is swamped.”

  “Multiple ships inbound.”

  “Time to arrival?” Alex yelled above everyone else, attempting to set priorities.

  “The ships are maneuvering, slowly gaining speed… Sir, contacts are

  coming from multiple vectors.”

  Everyone was silent, letting the sensor operations officer answer the

  Captain’s question.

  “Given their acceleration curve, the nearest threat is six to ten days

  away. There is no imminent danger to the ship, and congratulations, Cap-

  tain, for discovering a completely unknown spacefaring civilization,” Sym-

  boli said.

  It was the first time Alex wished that Symboli inhabited a physical

  form, if for no other reason than to peer into its face over such an odd com-

  ment, congratulations in the face of a threat. Alex watched as the sensor

  operator closed the computer window he was using to run calculations,

  then slumped slightly in his seat.

  “Everyone get busy. I want to know everything there is to know about

  what’s out here.”

  Alex’s screen changed, displaying an empty window. Various ship

  designs appeared on the screen, some overlapping others as Symboli tried to

  fit them all on the display, scans taken from the closest vessels on approach, and then from ships further out. The vessels were small.

  “Anyone else think these vessels are a bit small for spacefaring folk?”

  “The largest ship is barely larger than the UEF Destiny and is just starting to head this way. The ship is coming from the largest planet in the

  system. It’s too early to say how long it will take it to arrive.”

  “Alex, you will be pleased to know that they sent enough information

  through that I can begin offering a translation. If you would like, I can use

  native inflection and tone to translate their language,” Symboli said.

  “Really! That’s awesome. Do it!” Alex said excitedly.

  “Which audio
source would you like me to begin with, the nearest ship,

  the largest ship, or the planet? It seems the messages are very different.”

  “Start with the nearest ship.”

  “When are you? Go destroy yourself or plant a flag,” Symboli said in a

  very soft, low and barely audible voice. Despite his low tone, it had hints of screeching around a few vowels.

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  “I don’t think you got that right,” Alex smiled over at Lanora.

  “Agreed, I am still making improvements in stride. Here is a repeating

  message from the planet.

  “Point here, guests of the deep. Talk haste. Knowledge is good,” Symboli said in the alien voice, then continued in his normal voice, “I am starting

  to receive new signals from the planet, patching to the main viewscreen.”

  The viewscreen now showed a face of an alien, covered by a tremendous

  amount of visual static. The face was a reddish-brown color, but it was hard

  to make out specifics because of the visual distortions and static. It was

  clearly alien.

  “Oh my god,” several people exclaimed. Some stood up from their

  chairs and covered their mouth.

  Lenora sat there with a huge grin on her face, while Alex remained pas-

  sive. “Not globs of goo or computer chips or walking monsters. Real aliens.”

  “Point here, guests of the deep. Talk haste. Knowledge is good, ” Symboli repeated in the alien voice again. The image on the screen jumped, and the

  movement of the alien repeated itself.

  “Alex, this image is on a loop, and it’s repeating the same message.

  There’s another ship transmitting something more concerning.”

  The viewscreen changed to the sensor map and zoomed in on one of

  the closer ships en route to their location. Symboli spoke again. “Hunt.

  Hunt. Hunt. Hunt. Hunt…”

  “What the hell…?” Lanora muttered.

  “It’s clear Symboli hasn’t translated perfectly. I w—”

  “I have made many assumptions and probabilities to get me to this

  point. There are only a few transmissions I can examine that allow me to

  hone the translation. I will not be confident until I can verify my transla-

  tion in a face-to-face encounter,” Symboli said, cutting Alex off.

  “Defensive, are we?” Alex replied with a raised eyebrow, but no reply

  came. “Continue monitoring, start relaying this information to the rest of

  the crew and see what everyone comes up with. Schedule a crew meeting

  tomorrow morning. Keep our position here in the meantime.”