by S A Pavli
“Karema...Solon.,” I said and shook my head. Her hand came up to cover her mouth in a very human gesture of grief. Her face distorted and sobbing came from behind her hand.
“Hey kid, I’m sorry, I really am. I really liked Karema and Solon. It’s a damn shame.” I stood up and went over to sit next to her. I considered giving her a comforting cuddle but decided against it. Might frighten her even more, I thought morosely. Her head drooped forward and with her eyes closed she sobbed a little more. I gazed miserably at her, not knowing what to do or say. Inside I was seething. Whoever had done this is going to pay I thought. Murdering all these innocent people, why? What for? It made no sense. Surely it can’t be humans I thought. The blood froze in my veins at the thought. The shuttle was one of ours, albeit a hundred years old. Could it be what Smetronis suspected? A gang of dissident Humans had found this old shuttle and decided to acquire themselves a planet by scaring off the aliens? That is a crazy scheme I thought. A group of humans with one ship taking on an alien civilisation? No one could be that stupid, surely?.
A crackle in my ear interrupted me. “Paul, I will be with you in a few moments. Is there a convenient place to land?”
“Yes Alfred, the beach here is OK.” In the distance I could now hear the roar of the shuttles engines and it soon appeared, coming in from the sea and landing gracefully on the beach.
“OK Manera?” I asked, forgetting who she was. She seemed to understand my solicitous look and bobbed her head. As we walked down the beach towards the shuttle, my mind was a chaotic mass of conflicting thoughts. The first day of contact between out two species had gone disastrously.
Chapter 10
Stepping into the Epsilon cramped living quarters was like coming home.
“Where would you like to go Paul?” asked Alfred.
“Home James, and don’t spare the horses!”
“And where is home?” asked Alfred patiently.
“Back to Base to pick up Butch and Sundance, then we’ll come up to orbit. We should take Manera back to her folks. Have they intercepted the intruder yet?”
“In about 10 minutes,” he replied. I wanted a change of clothes and a hot drink desperately, but I felt I should attend to my guest first. I took out my second best jump suit and some underclothes and presented them to Manera. She looked at me and then the clothes, then took the clothes and held them up. Her face was inscrutable. I showed her to my sleeping quarters , gave her a comforting smile and left her to change. I found another old jumpsuit and some underwear and got changed in the main cabin, then I got some coffee going and broke out some pre-packed rations. I reckoned that if I could eat her food, she could eat mine, but I checked with Alfred first.
“Nothing spicy Paul,” he advised. “Stick to water and carbohydrates. No proteins,” I found some cookies and placed them on a plate with a glass of water, and sat down to enjoy my coffee.
When she appeared I had a shock. She was tall, but the clothes were a poor fit, baggy around the shoulders and middle and tight around the bottom. But for a moment, she looked so human I had to do a double take. I smiled and indicated the chair next to mine, and pointed to the cookies and the water. She sat and sipped at the water , but declined the biscuits, her face tense. I realised, seeing her sitting in my familiar environment, how much I missed human company. Alfred interrupted my train of thought.
“Smetronis has reported that the intruder has been destroyed.”
“What!” I jumped up, banging my legs on the table. Manera looked startled and asked me something in her own tongue. I shook my head, holding my hand up to her. “They have destroyed it? Why? Didn’t they try to intercept, to board it or at least to disable it?”
“No, Smetronis said that they would not communicate or stop to be boarded. They had no weapons to disable the craft and had to use a nuclear missile.”
“So there is nothing left of the ship?”
“Just an expanding cloud of gas I am afraid.”
“Damn, so we will never know who they were. I can’t believe they could not disable it. What the hell is Smetronis playing at. It’s almost as if he did not want us to know who was piloting the ship...,” I stopped thoughtfully.
Manera was looking inquiringly at me and asking me something.
“Alfred, can you let Manera know what is happening. Her communicator is out.” I disconnected my communicator and handed it to Manera. There followed a five minute conversation between her and Alfred, during which her face became progressively more strained. She seemed to be struggling hard to control her emotions as she handed the communicator back to me and I reconnected myself.
“What was that all about Alfred?”
“Manera was baffled by Smetronis’s behaviour. Apparently, he decided it was not necessary to take precautions against any attack. Manera wanted both shuttles to be used, one remaining airborne to protect the other on the ground. She also could not understand why he forced her and the others back to the shuttle, instead of hiding on the ground. She also informed him that you saved her life and she is now in your debt.”
“Either Smetronis is a fool, or he purposely exposed the shuttle and its crew to danger.” I scowled, angry and confused. “Let’s get going Alfred, we are not achieving much here.”
The engines fired up, built up in pitch and the ship started to lift. I handed the communicator back to Manera and stood up to go to the control room. I liked to keep an eye on the dials while the ship was in flight. It was unnecessary, but it made me feel useful. Everything was ship shape as expected. Outside it was late afternoon and the shadows were lengthening. The tropical night would fall very quickly, in about an hour I guessed. The trip to the base would only take a few minutes. We needed to top up the ship’s water tanks I saw, we were down to less than fifty percent. We had rigged some plumbing and pumps to the small stream that was close to the camp, so I only needed to link up the ship and give it half an hour to fill its tanks.
The cabin door opened and Manera walked in. She indicated the co-pilots chair and I nodded. I remembered that we had a couple of spares communicators on the ship and rummaging through one of the drawers under the pilots seat I found them, and handed one to Manera. Her eyes were like two lamps in the dimness of the control cabin, the green, yellow and red dials reflecting multiple colours in her eyes and on her face. She looked mysterious and exotic and the thought crossed my mind that I’d been away from home too long.
“Alfred, I have given Manera the spare communicator so you can translate simultaneously.”
“No problem Paul, I will assign the translation to one of my secondary processors while I am flying the ship. There may be the odd translation error or delay.”
“Not too odd I hope,” I quipped. “Manera, we can converse directly.”
“Good Paul,” she replied “I have not had an opportunity to thank you for saving my life. I am in your debt.”
“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You would have done the same for me if you could.” She gave a small dip of her head, blinking politely.
“On another subject Manera, I am very concerned about the events today. Smetronis is either incompetent or trying to kill us. Why did he not provide air cover for the shuttle?”
“He apologised for his error, reluctantly,” she added the last word after a seconds delay, as if in irony. “Because he was convinced Humans were responsible for the attack on the base, he was sure there would be no further attacks while you were on the shuttle. That is why he insisted on you boarding the shuttle.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“So does he now accept that humans were not responsible?”
“I asked him the same question,” she replied. “And he said that it probably only showed how unscrupulous humans were. Your colleagues were prepared to sacrifice you to get to us.”
“He really is determined to pin the rap on the Human race.”
“But why should Smetronis falsely accuse Humans of this attack. He can have no personal antipathy to Humans,�
�� she asked.
I nodded thoughtfully. “On the face of it you are right. But clearly he is behaving with a great deal of antipathy.”
“Maybe that is just his nature,” replied Manera.
“You have not known Smetronis for long then?” I asked.
“No, I have only known him as Captain on this trip. He is from a different planet from me.”
I was pleased to hear that I had an ally in Manera and smiled at her in appreciation. She returned the smile and at that point I found myself wishing that she was green and had tentacles so that I would not be so distracted from the job at hand. Fortunately Alfred intervened to break the small silence.
“We are approaching the Base and will be landing in two minutes,” he said, in his best flight attendants voice.
“Thank you for flying Air SES” I muttered.
The engines throttled up as the shuttle switched from forward flight to hover. I allowed Alfred to manoeuvre the ship and bring it down gently on the landing area beneath the alien base. After power down and check out we disembarked the shuttle into the late afternoon sunshine and trudged up the hill to the Base buildings. I asked Manera whether she wanted to be returned to her ship as soon as possible. Alfred intervened before she could answer.
“I cannot contact the alien ship. It has not yet returned from chasing the attacking shuttle.” Manera looked puzzled and worried, but she gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Let us wait then. Is there any reason why I could not stay for now?“ she asked.
“No reason at all,” I said, secretly pleased. “There is lots of accommodation down here!”
Sundance appeared in the doorway of the building and moved towards us. Butch of course had remained on the shuttle. We had arrived at the habitation building and I patted Sundance as we passed him on the way in.
“Sundance, is everything OK?” He turned his insect like head towards me and responded in his deep mellow voice.
“Everything is normal Paul.” Normal would not have been the word I would use to describe the circumstances I thought wryly.
We entered the habitation building and I selected a room for Manera. I left her to find some clothes and shower and then prepared some food and drink for us. I showered and changed myself and settled down in the dining area to wait for Manera. Girls will be girls throughout the Galaxy I thought as I waited. But when she arrived I decided that she was worth waiting for. She had found an outfit which combined simplicity and elegance, clinging and caressing in all the right places.
“Your clothing is beautiful,” I said, at a bit of a loss for words.
“Thank you. It is adequate,” she replied, with a small quirk of the lips to show her appreciation for my complement.
“More than adequate,” I protested. “On Earth, it would be a very expensive dress. Certainly not to be worn while exploring alien planets.”
“Is that so?” She looked quizzically at me, then examined her dress as if to re-assess it.
“It is simple and practical,” she said. “The material is cool and hard wearing and requires no maintenance.” Clearly Hianja standards were different from Earth ones I decided. Would a commentator describe the latest Paris Haute Couture collection as ‘…cool and hard wearing and requiring little maintenance…?”
As the evening progressed and our conversation roamed over many themes, It came to me that I was having a more interesting and enjoyable conversation with an alien female than I had ever had with a human one. What does that say about me I asked myself? Manera was insightful and direct in her thinking, but there was a gentle innocence about her. She asked me at one point, late in the evening, if I was a ‘typical’ human male.
“No, not typical in some ways, but very typical in others,” I replied ambiguously.
“In what ways?” she asked with a little shake of her head.
“Well, I am a ship’s Captain of the Space Exploration Service,” I replied “So I guess that makes me somewhat special since only one individual in ten thousand who apply are accepted. My training took five years and I am an expert in a number of technologies. I am also trained in Philosophy and Politics, advanced Mathematics and Space Navigation. I am in the top five percent of the human race in IQ and in perfect physical condition.”
“Very impressive,” she said and I detected a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.
“But otherwise I am a normal man. I like sports, and all electronic gadgets. I am congenitally lazy, I drink too much, swear too much, think about sex all the time and find it difficult to express my emotions, particularly to females.” Manera gazed at me, her eyes huge, as I listed my male eccentricities.
“Are you are joking with me?” she asked. I laughed.
“Yes of course. But there is just a small grain of truth there,” I added enigmatically. She looked worried. “Um, very small,” I added reassuringly.
“Well,” she murmured, taking a sip of her drink thoughtfully. We had found a selection of Hianja alcoholic drinks, and with the last remnants of my Scotch we had sampled a good selection “I can see that this area will be very interesting for Hianja scientists to study,” she went on. “We do not have the same sexual dynamics as part of our relationships,” she added.
“Um, er, how , er , does it work with you guys?” I asked and realising I was mumbling in a somewhat shifty fashion, rephrased my question. “I mean, I know you have sexual relationships, but in what way is it different?”
“We do not have permanent sexual desire, as apparently Human males do,” she said, her face impassive. “Sexual activity requires the use of a particular stimulant.”
“That seems very artificial and clinical to me,” I observed. “So , if you like someone and want to have a sexual experience with them, you must take a pill?” Something about my tone must have indicated disapproval.
“Yes,” she replied “What is wrong with that? At least it is my mind making the decision, not my body.” I had to admit, she had a point. A very good point, since most personal sexual problems seemed to be caused by lack of control over our bodily desires. In fact, not just sexual problems, but all manner of problems are caused by lack of control over our desires and emotions. Were the Hianja, by a lucky accident of biology immune to this major human failing? Is this why they had survived and developed an advanced space faring civilisation for twenty thousand years, without wars and conflict?
But something was bothering me. Clearly, the artificial control over their sexual desires must be a recent thing, post technology. In their natural state, the Hiianja could hardly take a pill in order to get ‘the urge’! So had something happened to them to require this ‘fix’? Or had they done it to themselves? We somehow skirted around the issue and then I forgot to ask.
We continued talking late into the night, until I started to feel tired and sleepy, partly due to the alcohol we had consumed, although Manera seemed unaffected. We had still not received a response from the Hianja ship.
“Manera, it’s getting late and we are both tired. I think we should both sleep here tonight and we can fly you up to your ship tomorrow. I’m sure I have no idea why Smetronis is not answering our calls.” Manera shook her head in agreement.
“There must be something delaying them,” she remarked. “Yes, why don’t we sleep here tonight.” We both stood up and for a few awkward seconds we both hovered uncertainly. Manera took the initiative and walked over to give me a Hianja shoulder ‘hug’, which I reciprocated.
“Goodnight Manera,” I said.
“Thank you,” she smiled “Sleep well.”
Despite my tiredness it took a little while to sleep. I replayed our conversation over in my mind, enjoying the rapport we had acquired. I was struck by her openness. She was an odd combination of sophistication and innocence. An adult who had grown up in the most advanced civilisation, and had not suffered abuse or disappointment, despair or damage in any way.
As I drifted on the edges of sleep, a more sombre mood began to trouble me. W
as the Human race fit to consort with the likes of these? If Manera was any example to go by, the Hianja and the Human races were as far apart as Humans and Neanderthals. Humans were invariably damaged and incomplete, both as individuals and as Nations. We had come a long way since the twenty-first century, but we still had a long way to go.
Chapter 11
The next morning I was up early, my first thought was of the delightful Manera, followed by my second thought which was what I would like to do to the delightful Manera, followed by a pang of guilt. You’ve been away from home too long Paul I remonstrated.
As usual, the weather was delightful, before the heat of the day took hold, and the cool breeze from the ocean was invigorating. I went for a 15 minute run along the beach and then showered and dressed. I was having my morning coffee when Manera put in an appearance, wearing a fetching blue and pink sleeping gown, her hair tied back. She sniffed the air questioningly.
“Good morning,” I said “Would you care for some Earth coffee?” Our SES issue instant coffee was a passable imitation of the real thing.
“It smells very good. Is it alright to try some?” she asked.
“Alfred?”
“There should be no problem if it tastes agreeable,” responded Alfred. As I prepared her a cup, I broached the subject of the future.
“How long do you think it will take for your official ‘Task Force’ to arrive?” I asked. She pulled up a chair and sat at the table before replying.
“We sent the Hyperspace message two days ago, as soon as we knew of your presence,” she said. God I thought, has it been only two days? It feels like a lifetime!