New Earth

by Ben Bova

  “And you conked them out,” said Thornberry’s image on the comm screen, almost accusingly.

  Adri looked slightly embarrassed. “Yes, I’m afraid we did disable them. We wanted you to come here yourselves. Making our first contact through your machines would have been … awkward.”

  “Can you turn the rovers back on?” Thornberry asked.

  “Oh yes, of course. You’ll find that they are both in perfect working order now.”

  Thornberry glanced down; Jordan concluded he was working his console screen.

  “Well I’ll be dipped in sheep droppings,” he muttered. “They’re both humming as if they’d never been off.”

  “It’s been a pleasure to meet all of you,” Adri said, in his gentle, genial tone. Then he slipped out of the seat to stand beside Jordan. “Now, if you’re willing, I would like to show you our community.” Pointing deeper into the forest, Adri said, “It’s only a few kilometers, in that direction.”

  “Why don’t you sit up front, with Brandon,” said Jordan.

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. I can sit behind you.”

  “No, no. I insist. You know the way. You can be Bran’s navigator.”

  Adri seemed to think it over briefly, then made a polite little bow. “Thank you.”

  He climbed into the right-hand seat. Jordan stashed his rifle, then sat with Meek in the second row while de Falla climbed into the rearmost row, empty since the robots were still with the reactivated rovers.

  As the buggy started up, Jordan marveled at how fantastic this all was. It’s impossible, he told himself. I must be dreaming.

  Yet he opened the neck seal of his biosuit and pulled the deflated plastic helmet down off his head.

  THE CITY

  Brandon drove a good deal faster than de Falla had, pushing through the forest at Adri’s direction along what appeared to be a fairly well-defined track that wound among the trees. Jordan leaned between them and asked for a report from Longyear on the quality of the air.

  The biologist’s lean, somber face appeared on the comm screen. “The bio program’s still analyzing the sampling data you’ve beamed up. Nothing toxic, apparently. But the analysis isn’t finished yet.”

  Jordan nodded. “Brandon and I have removed our suit helmets.”

  Longyear’s dark eyes widened. “That’s premature, Jordan. There could be—”

  “We’ve volunteered to be experimental subjects. So far, so good.”

  Looking unhappy, the biologist muttered, “What’s done is done.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Jordan said, feeling somehow cheerful, buoyant.

  They rode on for another few minutes, and then Jordan saw stone buildings standing among the trees. Large buildings, several stories high, with flat roofs green with lush gardens. A small crowd of people was clustered in front of the nearest building.

  “It’s a regular city!” Brandon cried out.

  And indeed it was. Adri directed them down a central street, flanked on either side by handsome stone buildings. Brandon drove slowly now, gaping at the buildings and people they were passing. There were animals among the people, too: four-footed creatures that looked vaguely like miniature horses, about the size of a Shetland pony. Apparently they were used as beasts of burden. He could see no vehicles of any sort, not even a bicycle. Most of the ponies were a plain dun color, although a few of them were deeper shades of brown.

  At the end of the street, Jordan saw, stood an imposing multistoried structure with a long stone stairway leading to a veranda that seemed to run completely around the building.

  How could our sensors have missed all this? Jordan asked himself. All right, the roofs might appear to be natural greenery and the stone is probably local material, so the cameras and multispectral sensors might have concluded it’s all natural formations. But the straight streets? That should have been an immediate tipoff that this is artificial. Straight lines don’t appear in nature. Not gridworks of city streets.

  As if he was reading Jordan’s thoughts, Adri turned slightly in his seat and said, “I’m afraid we disguised our little community from your orbiting cameras.”

  “How could you do that?” Jordan asked. “And why?”

  “We were very fearful of shocking you, you must realize. We wanted our first contact to be as gentle as possible. As nonthreatening as possible.”

  “Nonthreatening,” Jordan echoed.

  “Despite the guns you were carrying,” Adri chided softly.

  The people walking along the streets were perfectly human-looking men and women. Some wore ankle-length robes, as Adri did, but there were plenty of other styles of clothing, some of them very colorful. Small doglike animals scampered among them, apparently free to scurry wherever they wished. Many of the people turned to stare in curiosity at their buggy rolling past, although others seemed to ignore it. New Yorkers, said a cynical voice in Jordan’s head.

  As they approached the broad stairway at the end of the street, Adri said to Brandon, “You can stop at the bottom of the stairs.”

  Jordan tapped his brother’s shoulder. “Are we beaming all this up to the others?”

  Nodding without taking his eyes from his driving, Brandon said, “Automatic feed. Thornberry’s getting everything our cameras see.”

  “Good,” said Jordan.

  They glided to a stop at the base of the stairs. A dozen or so people were coming down the stairs toward them.

  “A reception committee?” Jordan asked as he swung his legs over the side of the buggy and got to his feet.

  “A welcoming committee,” said Adri. He got up too, more slowly, stiffly. “We have decided to speak English to you. I hope that is agreeable.”

  “That’s fine,” said Jordan.

  As Brandon, Meek, and de Falla got off the buggy, Adri went on, “I believe that English is the lingua franca of your people.”

  A pun? Jordan asked himself. A multilingual pun from an alien?

  The others came down the steps and arranged themselves around Adri and the four men from Earth. Looking them over, Jordan saw that there were six women and six men, their hair and skin coloring ranging from pale Nordic to dark African. It’s as though some politician put together a group to represent every possible type of human being on Earth.

  But we’re not on Earth, he reminded himself. These people may look human, but they are aliens.

  One of the women, a pretty, pert redhead with short-cropped hair and smiling brown eyes, took a step forward and said, “Welcome to our city. We hope you make yourselves comfortable here.” She was wearing a short-sleeved light tan blouse and dark brown slacks.

  “Thank you,” said Jordan, with a suggestion of a bow. “My name is Jordan Kell. You are…?”

  She looked puzzled for a moment, then seemed to grasp what Jordan was asking her. “Oh! My name is Aditi.”

  “A charming name,” said Jordan. “And may I ask, what do you call your city?”

  Again she looked perplexed. Adri said, “We merely call it the city.”

  “And this planet?” Brandon asked. “When we first met you, you called it New Earth.”

  “Yes,” said Adri. “Isn’t that what you call this world?”

  “That’s right. But what do you call it?”

  “And how did you know that was the name we used?” Meek added.

  Adri smiled placatingly. “This planet’s name in our language is very similar to your term, New Earth.”

  Meek’s lean face took on a suspicious scowl. “And just what is your language, may I ask?”

  Adri stood silent for a moment, then uttered an indecipherable sound, a combination of a fluting whistle and an undulating low moan. Meek’s jaw dropped open and Jordan fought down an urge to laugh at the astrobiologist’s consternation.

  “I’m sorry,” Adri said. “Our language has very different roots than yours. I believe it will be much easier if we communicate in English. At least for the time being.”

  “I agree,” said Jo
rdan. “At least for the time being.”

  Aditi gestured toward the stairs and said, “Would you like to see our…” She hesitated, looked at Adri.

  “Our administrative center,” Adri finished for her.

  “City hall?” Jordan asked, with a smile.

  “Oh, it’s more than that, Mr. Kell. Much more.”

  THE ADMINISTRATIVE CENTER

  With Aditi on one side of him and Adri on the other, Jordan climbed the steps of the impressive building. He felt somehow eager, excited by these strange yet familiar surroundings. It’s as though I’ve come home, he thought. Home, to a place I’ve never been to before.

  Brandon, Meek, and de Falla were behind him, Brandon chatting with the welcoming committee as they made their way up the stairs, while Meek and de Falla kept a guarded silence. Jordan opened the front of his biosuit and fished his phone from his shirt pocket.

  Hazzard’s dark face appeared on the tiny screen. “We’re tracking you, Jordan, no problem,” said the astronaut.

  “Where’s Thornberry?” Jordan asked.

  “He’s running the remote console, packing the rovers into the ship they flew in on,” Hazzard replied. “Wants to move them to other regions now that they’re working okay.”

  “And the robots?”

  “They’re back at your plane, standing by.”

  Nodding, Jordan said, “We’re going into what appears to be their main building. Reception might not be so good once we’re inside.”

  Lowering his voice, Hazzard asked, “You trust these aliens?”

  Jordan glanced at Adri, climbing the stairs beside him, then Aditi, on his other side. “Yes,” he answered. “I do. At any rate, we won’t learn much by keeping our distance from them.”

  “Maybe,” Hazzard granted. “Just stay in touch with me.”

  “Of course.” He flicked the phone shut and stuffed it back in his pocket.

  Adri said, “I’m afraid I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.”

  Jordan shrugged. “That’s all right.”

  “You’ll find that electromagnetic reception inside our buildings is quite clear.”

  “Good.”

  “I can understand your teammate’s concern. Xenophobia is a survival trait that must have been important in your earlier evolution.”

  “I suppose it was,” said Jordan. “But I think it’s time we got past it.”

  “Oh yes,” Adri agreed, beaming. “Long past time, I should think.”

  Adri led them through an imposing entry, high double doors of some dark wood, and into the building. Out of the corner of his eye, Jordan noticed Aditi eying him curiously. This must be just as exciting for her as it is for us, he realized. And he felt glad of it.

  Escorted by the little band of aliens, Jordan and the three other Earthmen followed Adri through stately corridors and large rooms that appeared to be offices where men and women sitting at desks were working away industriously. He felt impressed with the size of the offices and the apparent efficiency of these people.

  “Just what are they doing?” he asked Adri.

  “Oh … administrative tasks, for the most part. We have a sizeable community here.”

  “I can see that.”

  They entered a smaller room, where a long table was set with dishes and glassware.

  “You must be hungry,” said Adri. “We’ve prepared something of a luncheon for you. I hope—”

  Brandon interrupted, “You’ve prepared food we can eat?”

  Again that patient smile curved Adri’s thin lips. “You and we can digest the same foods, I assure you. We’re just as human as you are.”

  “That’s not possible,” Meek objected. “By all we know of biology, it’s impossible for two species from two different star systems to share identical biochemistries.”

  “By all you know of biology,” Adri retorted, patiently. “You are about to learn much more than you currently know.”

  Trying to stop an argument from developing, Jordan said, “Well, I’m rather hungry, aren’t you? If Adri says we can digest the food, why not take him at his word and give it a try?”

  “That’s a good way to poison ourselves,” de Falla blurted.

  Adri extended a hand to his shoulder but the geologist flinched back.

  “Please,” said Adri, “we have no wish to harm you. And we do know something of your biology. After all, we’ve been watching and listening to your broadcasts for many years. And your Internet is a cornucopia of information on all sorts of subjects.”

  Before de Falla or anyone else could respond, Adri added, “But if you wish, you can have your robots carry the food you brought with you and eat it.”

  “We don’t mean to offend you,” Jordan said.

  “No offense is taken,” Adri replied. “We understand how strange this must be for you. Strange and perhaps more than a little frightening.”

  Glancing at Aditi, Jordan said, “It’s certainly strange. And rather wonderful, actually.”

  De Falla asked Jordan, “May I borrow your phone?”

  Jordan handed it to the geologist, wondering how the man was going to eat if he remained sealed inside his protective suit.

  De Falla walked off to a corner of the room, speaking in low, urgent tones to Hazzard up in the ship.

  “He’s not usually so … tense,” Jordan apologized to Adri.

  The alien smiled once more. “It’s understandable. What I find remarkable is how you and your brother have thrown caution to the winds.”

  Jordan glanced at Brandon, who was in earnest conversation with Aditi. He noticed how nicely she filled the clothes she was wearing. “My brother’s the impulsive type.”

  “And you?” Adri probed. “You don’t strike me as impulsive.”

  Jordan had to think a moment. At last he said, “I suppose I trust you. I’m hoping that we can be completely frank with one another. We both have a lot to learn.”

  Adri’s smile widened. “Yes, that is quite true. A lot to learn.”

  HOSPITALITY

  Most of the welcoming committee left the dining room, rather reluctantly, Jordan thought. Adri bade the four men from Earth sit at the oblong table, which was set with eight places.

  Jordan looked across the room to de Falla, who was still on the phone, deep in intense, serious conversation. Adri, standing beside Jordan, was also gazing toward the geologist. This is getting awkward, Jordan thought. They’ve prepared a meal for us and Silvio’s holding up the proceedings.

  But how could they possibly have produced food that we can eat? Jordan asked himself. Adri says our biochemistries are similar, but how similar can they be? We’re from different stars, different worlds. This planet seems very much like Earth, but it can’t be identical. Even the smallest difference could be potentially dangerous, fatal.

  With those thoughts whirling through his mind, Jordan excused himself to Adri and walked across the room toward de Falla.

  “You’re absolutely certain?” the geologist was saying into the phone, in a tense, urgent whisper.

  De Falla glanced up at Jordan as he approached, nodded once, and said tightly, “All right. I’ll tell him.”

  He clicked the phone shut.

  “What did they have to say?” Jordan asked as he accepted the phone from de Falla.

  De Falla’s normally cheerful expression was gone. He looked worried, suspicious.

  “They’re all over the place,” he complained. “Longyear says the air’s okay to breathe—he thinks. Thornberry’s sending one of the robots here with food packets from the plane. Hazzard thinks we ought to go back to the plane and stay there overnight. Or maybe go back to the ship in orbit.”

  “Is there any reason why we shouldn’t eat the food that these people have prepared for us?” Jordan asked.

  “They’re all agreed on that. No way. It can’t be suitable to our bodies. We shouldn’t touch it.”

  Jordan said, “They’re entirely right to be cautious.” He turned back to the
table, where Adri and the others were seated and waiting for them. Brandon had seated himself beside Aditi, Jordan noticed.

  “How long will it take the robot to get here with our food?”

  “It’s already on its way,” de Falla answered. “Maybe another fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  Jordan gripped the geologist’s arm and started toward the table. “Let’s continue the experiment, then. Brandon and I will try the food they’ve prepared. You and Meek can wait until the robot arrives.”

  De Falla looked appalled. “You could be killing yourselves!”

  “They don’t look like poisoners to me,” Jordan said, gazing toward Aditi, who was chatting amiably with Brandon.

  “They might not want to harm us,” said de Falla, “but if their biochemistry is even an eyelash different from ours…”

  Trying to appear unconcerned, Jordan said, “We’ll soon find out, one way or the other.”

  De Falla shook his head. “This is crazy.”

  “Perhaps,” Jordan admitted. “But no matter what you eat, you’ll have to open your biosuit.”

  As the geologist fumbled with his suit seals, Jordan sat down at the empty chair between Adri and one of the other women. At last de Falla took the only other empty chair, down the table across from Meek. A door in the sidewall opened and human servants—at least, they looked like humans to Jordan—began to bring in trays of food and drink.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have any intoxicating refreshments for you,” Adri said as the service began. “Only water … or milk, if you prefer.”

  “Water will be fine for me,” Jordan said.

  “You don’t produce any wine?” Brandon asked.

  With a slight shake of his head, Adri replied, “Oh, yes, we do. But we rarely drink it, especially during the daytime.”

  Brandon looked puzzled by that, but Jordan thought, Different customs. Our biochemistry may be the same, but our social customs aren’t.

  Adri cocked his head, as if listening to something that only he could hear. Then, looking down the table at de Falla and Meek, he announced, “Gentlemen, your robot has arrived with food from your supplies.”