Aliena

by Piers Anthony

  “Thank you. I am I think more like Lucy than Aliena in this respect. I crave this intensity.”

  And their relationship was similarly imperfect, because she wasn’t Aliena. That was awkward.

  “I think I should not have mentioned Lucy.”

  “No, no, it’s all right. Just please don’t do what she did in the end.”

  “I will not. Now I think we should dress, before the others return.”

  “Agreed.”

  She kissed him. Then they got out of the water, went to the shower, cleaned off, and got into their swimsuits.

  The others returned. Sam and Martha had of course observed everything, wherever they had been hiding, and the Smythe’s knew of it. None of them commented. It was a tacit conspiracy of silence, but all of them seemed pleased. They had evidently wanted him to make it with Star.

  They played in the surf with Maple and had a wonderful ordinary time. But Star was on Brom’s mind. She was not Aliena, but she was a lot of fun. And that singing surf connection had been almost identical to the one with Aliena. It seemed to signal the same thing: the commencement of their sexual association. Well, it was time.

  “I must learn to dance,” Star said as they drove home.

  “Dance? Why?”

  “When the Unveiling comes, I will need to dance with selected men as part of the promotion. I must do it well.”

  “I think you will need more competent instruction than I can deliver. I’m strictly a duffer dancer.”

  “I will obtain it.”

  She did, and overnight, literally, became expert. It also turned out that she had not exaggerated her delight in sex; she openly seduced him daily. This was another difference from Aliena, who while always amenable had seldom initiated sex, but Brom found that he liked it. Star had also made sure to have effective contraception; she could not afford pregnancy at this time.

  Meanwhile rumors were spreading that something big was in the offing. This was the result of careful government leaks, preparing the populace for the revelation to come. Brom knew that it was being done on a global scale. The cooperation of nations was unprecedented; none wanted to be left out of it.

  Star talked with the neighbors again, starting with Mrs. Green. “As you know, I am to be an Envoy from a distant realm,” Star said carefully.

  “Yes, and I’m sure you will be a good one.”

  “I must tell you more about it, that I fear will disturb or repulse you.”

  “Star, if it’s some scandal in your background, don’t tell me. I like you regardless.”

  “No scandal. But I must ask you to keep it in confidence, until the Unveiling in three months.”

  “You have my word.”

  “My realm is on another planet circling another star. I am a true alien.”

  “And you can breathe our air? I have trouble believing that.”

  “My natural body could not breathe your air. Instead my brain was transplanted into this native body, which had lost its brain.”

  Mrs. Green was reluctant to believe, but Brom confirmed it, and finally she accepted it. “It’s a good thing I know what a nice person you are, Star, or I would have serious concerns.”

  “Yes. And those who don’t know me may fear the worst. There will be considerable additional security in this neighborhood, to protect me against potential assassins. If you prefer not to live in such a situation, the government will arrange to buy your house for a good price and help place you wherever else you might prefer.”

  Mrs. Green shook her head. “I’ll take my chances here. But thanks for warning me.”

  “I am glad you will stay. I need friends around me.”

  “You’ve got one, dear.”

  Brom remembered how Johnson had remarked that Becky had been pretty, Aliena beautiful, and Star took it to an art form. He wasn’t thinking just of physical appearance. Star absolutely charmed people.

  One month before the Unveiling the global publicity barrage began in earnest. Contact with an alien stellar culture had been made, and the aliens were sending an Envoy. At first there was wide rejection, as people suspected it was a hoax. But as more detail came, an increasing number began to accept it. Maybe this was for real.

  Star made a quiet global tour, taking Brom and Maple along. The way had been cleared in advance, and there was no publicity. An early stop was in Italy, and the Vatican: the headquarters of the Roman Catholic Church.

  They were ushered into a private office to see the pope himself. Brom held Maple on his lap as she hugged her starfish doll, looking around but silent, as she had learned to be. They were part of the background. He noted that Star was eerily lovely despite being quite conservatively dressed, without makeup, her hair plain. She looked much like a Catholic woman who had come to pray. An adorably dedicated one.

  “As you know, Your Holiness, I am the Alien Envoy, to be Unveiled next month,” she said, and the pope nodded; he had of course been briefed. “My body is human, but my brain is that of a star-traveling starfish.” She smiled, and her beauty radiated. “I am called Star.”

  The pope nodded noncommittally, waiting for her to pull the trigger; he was an old hand at this sort of thing. Folk frequently solicited favors of the Church, and some had significant power bases. Star’s intention was to enlist the Catholic Church’s cooperation after the Unveiling, or at least ensure its neutrality. It was a likely bastion of intolerance with respect to any alien visitation to Earth, that could be enormous mischief unless countered at the outset.

  “I have come to request a significant favor of you, and to give you a small gift.”

  “I am unlikely to grant a favor or accept a gift,” the pope said cautiously. But he knew that something huge was in the offing.

  Star was unfazed. “We bring to Earth a number of gifts whose purpose is to advance Earthly technology and improve the comfort of human beings. Among these is what is popularly termed anti-gravity: the ability to virtually float without expending much if any power. The indications are that airlines, for example, could use this to decrease the weight of their planes and carry passengers far more efficiently. They will of course pay a licensing fee. There should be a good deal of money to be made from such adaptations. We wish to ensure that a fair share of such money is used for beneficial purposes, such as healing the sick and helping the poor to survive and even prosper. But my people are not conversant with the Earth economic pattern, so we prefer to enlist the assistance of those who are already committed to such good work. Such as the Catholic Church. Hence the favor: for you to arrange the appropriate distribution of a share of this money.”

  “What amount are you thinking of?” the pope asked cautiously.

  “Well, there are many channels, and this portion is relatively small, but should grow as time passes. Our expectation is that it would be about five billion dollars a year, to start.”

  That signaled major league. “And what would be the restrictions? The strings?”

  “No strings,” Star said. “We would not presume to try to tell you how to do what you understand so much better than we do.”

  “I believe we could work something out,” the pope said. Brom was sure of that; five billion dollars a year could feed and medicate many needy people, who would be duly grateful to the Church.

  “Thank you,” Star said sincerely. “Our representative will be in touch with yours. Now the gift.”

  “No gift, please.”

  “It is merely a song.”

  “A song?”

  Star sang what Brom knew was the pope’s favorite, because he had helped with the spot research: “Ave Maria.” She sang it in Latin, her bell-like tones making a breathtakingly lovely rendition.

  The pope listened, clearly impressed. It was impossible for anyone to think that such a lovely person with such a wonderful voice could ever be associated with anything remotely evil. In fact she seemed more like an angel.

  Then the pope raised his hand in a stop gesture. Star stopped in mid-note. H
e stood and walked to the door, gesturing them to follow. He led them through a labyrinth of passages until they came to a chamber like a small cathedral, where cleaning women were preparing it for the next service. He gestured for her to continue.

  Star resumed singing exactly where she had left off. With the superior acoustics of this chamber the sound resounded, magnifying the effect. It was as if heaven was manifesting in this spot. The women paused to listen, impressed. Others came to stand at the periphery, similarly mesmerized. Brom realized that the pope had simply known that the song needed to be shared.

  Star finished, and the listeners came out of their daze. “Thank you, my dear,” the pope said. “I do appreciate that gift.”

  Brom knew that Star had accomplished her mission here. She had charmed the pope, and provided something he wanted. The Catholic Church was unlikely to oppose the starfish association. The pope surely understood her motivation, but he accepted it.

  They went on to India, and China, and other centers of the great religions, where Star made similar presentations, concluding by singing their sacred songs beautifully in their own languages. There would surely be some religious objection to the starfish, but it was likely to be muted.

  Star was a master diplomat. Yet when alone with Brom, she was an uncertain woman, wanting his reassurance. This did not seem to be an act; she truly needed him, as Aliena had. The act was her professionalism; she was good at it, but did not fully trust her own judgment. Maybe it was that he, as a human being, had the appropriate perspective. Of course he supported her fully; that was really his job. If only it could have been Aliena!

  Two weeks before the Unveiling, the starfish mother-ship arrived and took up orbit around the moon. Now everyone believed, but many were seriously alarmed. Were the aliens coming as friends, or on a mission of conquest? Similar concerns played our around the world.

  One week before unveiling, the announcement was made: the Alien Envoy had arrived. Because she could not live in Earth’s atmosphere, her brain had been transplanted into a human host. She had learned Earth’s ways and respected them.

  The buildup was enormous, and that made Brom nervous. “I have to say I like the life we have had together,” he told Star. “You’re a lot of fun. But you’re going to be phenomenally busy as Interplanetary Envoy.”

  “So are you,” she said. “You will be with me throughout, and Maple too. I need your support as part of the presentation, but also personally.”

  That had been evident all along. “You have it.”

  “Thank you.”

  As if he was doing her a personal favor. Did she think he was not fully committed?

  That night, alone together, she made passionate love to him, then broached her concern. “I am still not Aliena.”

  And there it was. “Star, you’re great, you’re doing a perfect job, and I delight in your success and your company. But I do love Aliena.”

  “I would not have it otherwise.”

  Then a phenomenal idea burst upon him. “Maybe I could rejoin her—by transplanting into a Starfish host!”

  She considered. “This is possible. If this is what you truly desire, I will not oppose it.”

  “I’ll talk to her, when I finally get to see her again, after six months apart.” For there had been no trip to the starship, by Aliena’s design. She wanted him to work it out with Star.

  “Talk to her,” she agreed.

  Something was bothering her, but he was not figuring it out and doubted that he could ask her. “Thanks, Star. You’re great!”

  “I support you as you support me.”

  The day of the Unveiling finally came. They traveled to the White House as a party of seven: Star, Brom, Maple, the grandparents, and the guardians. The president himself made the announcement, and showed Star off on a giant stage covered by a myriad cameras that broadcast it to the world. Star was resplendent in an evening gown, with a diamond necklace and lesser gems sparkling in her hair. She was so beautiful that there was a collective murmur of awe.

  Then she spoke. “It is true. I am an alien creature in a human host, because I could not survive on Earth in my own body. I come from a planet a hundred light years away, and I look like a starfish. Hence my name, here: Star. I have been living here for more than two years, learning the culture.” Technically it had been only six months, but they had agreed that the exchange of alien brains would not be mentioned; her term officially commenced with the arrival of Aliena. No one would care anyway, apart from Brom.

  “I married a local man, and we have a child,” Star continued, bringing Brom and Maple to the stage. “They are completely human; only my brain is alien.” She went on to describe the benefits that the starfish were bringing to Earth. “We proffer three gifts, at first: accelerated propulsion for your space vessels so that you may come to travel between the stars as we do. Virtual Antigravity, that should facilitate your airplane flights and construction. And Stasis, which you may think of an instant freezing and thawing, though it is not cold, that can enable you to pass time in a seeming moment.”

  She let that sink in, and the president nodded affirmatively. These were remarkable gifts. Then: “To help you get to know me better, there will be a lottery to select one man for a date with me.” She smiled. “This is only for show; my husband might object we became too friendly. Another lottery will select seventeen people, male, female, and child, to accompany our little family of three on a tourist excursion to the Starfish mother ship, where we will be suitably entertained. This event will illustrate the three gifts, as the shuttle into space will have greatly increased power, the antigravity will make it far lighter, and the stasis will make the journey seem instantaneous. You will get into the shuttle here, and get off it at the Starship immediately, as far as you are aware. That will be the first of many, as we do this with the other cultures of Earth. We want you to become familiar with the Starfish, and comfortable with our association, and to trust the new technology by experiencing it. Now I will sing my song.” And she sang the refrain of “My soul’s going to shine like a star,” beautifully. The Tabernacle Choir was not present, despite the president’s notion, but her perfect voice needed no assistance.

  There was more, but that was the essence. Star was an instant, colossal hit. Even the underground media, routinely cynical about everything, were impressed. “So she’s an alien thing,” one commentator said. “Aren’t all women? She can share my bed anytime.”

  They went on to make a similar presentation in Paris, where Star spoke and sang in French. Then China, where she did it in Chinese. She had taken the trouble to learn all the languages she needed. She finished with Australia and Africa. They loved her everywhere. Brom was impressed again by the power of physical appearance: they knew her brain was alien, but her body was lusciously human, and that was what counted. For women as well as men.

  Meanwhile the lotteries produced their winners. Star had a public date with an American man, at government expense, walking hand in hand in a public park, going to a ball where they danced, having a fancy restaurant meal, attending a phenomenal laser light show, indulging in incidental conversation, and at the end, a chaste kiss. She was perfect, an instant sweetheart, and of course the man was instantly famous. The media raged with reports on every conceivable detail.

  But alone with Brom, she almost collapsed. “Hold me!” she exclaimed, shuddering. Her perfect show was a show, and required a good deal of emotional energy to maintain, something she had little prior experience with.

  In due course it was time for the first tourist tour to the mother ship. Star greeted each of the seventeen participants personally. Then the group of twenty boarded the shuttle—and exited at the ship, the stages of the journey covered by stasis. If they had been nervous about stasis, they were no longer. They would spread the word about how easy it was.

  They took the roller coaster ride, and were given little starfish dolls as souvenirs. Then, while the tourists shopped for other artifacts at the fr
ee gift store, Brom, Star, and Maple went to the chamber to meet Aliena.

  Star stood back with Maple, while Brom went up to the wall. “Aliena!” he cried, touching the wall as she lifted a tentacle to touch on her side.

  “Brom,” the speaker said, translating her whistling to words.

  “I have done it,” he told her. “I have been with Star. Now I want to be with you.” And he told her about his idea for transplanting his human brain into a starfish.

  “I would love to have you with me,” Aliena said. “I ache for your company. But what you propose is not realistic. It would complicate the presentation of the Envoy with a human family. Who would take your place?”

  “I don’t know. But any man would be happy to be with Star.”

  “And would Star be happy with any man?”

  That made him pause. “I’m not sure.”

  “And how would you adapt to the utterly foreign life as a starfish, where you would have no useful abilities? Kindness and consideration have no value here. You would have to learn everything from scratch—and Brom, you would be a moron among our kind. It would grieve me to do that to you.”

  She was making uncomfortable sense. “I would try. I would sweep floors, or the equivalent, so long as I could be with you.”

  “I appreciate that. And what of Star?” she asked. “Did you tell her?”

  “She’s amenable. Ask her!”

  Aliena whistled, and Star responded, the communication so rapid that they seemed to whistle together. Then Alien spoke to Brom, again, quietly. “Star loves you.”

  “She said it was all right.”

  “Brom, she has labored to learn love, and she has learned it at last, but it has not been easy. Human emotions are even more difficult for her than they were for me. She has learned to love you, but she will not be able to love another person. She needs someone she knows and trusts, who knows and loves her for what she is rather than for what she appears to be. Who will be strong when she is weak, and always there for her. As I needed you before. Only you can be that for her. Will you do to her what I did to you?”