Mimic and the Space Engineer Boxed Set, Books 1 - 3

by James David Victor

  “You want to learn something?” I asked.

  She stared at me blankly and it was quite unnerving. Slowly, I did an exaggerated blink, and she copied me.

  “Good, remember to do that every so often,” I added, sidling up next to her. Bending down, I poked at the net portal and called up the video conglomerate that I favored. “How about a linguistics tutorial?”

  I handed my data-log to her and she clutched it greedily, pulling it to her face. Her dark eyes gobbled up what the screen was saying and I had the distinct feeling that I was watching something brilliant happen.

  Now that she was distracted and I had calmed down, I had a chance to look at her. Really look at her. And I found I was utterly enraptured.

  Although her face was inherently angular, leaning toward unnatural, there was a symmetrical kind of beauty to it. Her eyes darted all around my data-log as she observed, and her full lips mouthed gibberish.

  I was watching, lost in thought, when suddenly the same face I was admiring grew slack, then began to shift and mold itself. I leaned back in simultaneous horror and fascination as the girl disappeared and an exact copy of the video teacher was sitting in my room.

  “Dude,” I breathed. What else could I say?

  That seemed to catch her attention, and she set the data-log down. “D…ud,” she repeated.

  My eyes went wide. “You catch on fast. You’ve been in this form for less than a few hours.”

  “Catch,” she parroted again before picking up the data-log and returning to the video.

  “That’s great! At this rate, you’re gonna pick up Common Northern Hemisphere in a day or two!”

  “Higgens!”

  “Crap!” I yelped, jumping up. Mimic didn’t budge, however, completely enraptured with the video series. “Yes?” I asked, hitting the comm after I had a moment to breathe.

  “We’re about to hit a new comet stream we need to sort. I want you to double-check the drill bits to make sure everything’s ready to go.”

  “Yessir. I’ll get on that in a jiffy.”

  “Whatever. Just have it done before eleven clicks.”

  “Right.”

  I looked up from my comm to see Mimic was still staring at her screen. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back in a bit. You just stay here, okay?”

  She didn’t say anything, so I figured that was my cue to go. Assembling my cart again, I went out into the hall then shut the door behind me. I waited a few moments, just to see if she was going to follow me, but nothing happened.

  Well, that had worked out much better than I ever could have hoped.

  Cautiously optimistic, I made my way to the lift and back to the place where this had all started. I couldn’t help but wonder if we were about to repeat history and I was going to meet a new best friend.

  I smiled to myself, before a depressing sort of realization befell me. Mimic had only gotten into the ship because we had destroyed her home. Literally drilled it into tiny pieces and then sorted it into different channels to be stored, used or discarded. Had any of her friends survived? Had they been flung into space to drift forever? Shredded into microscopic and very dead pieces? The thought was terrifying, and made me look at the situation in a whole new light.

  Was my shapeshifting friend a refugee from a massacre my people had caused? Had we committed genocide on her people? These were questions that I didn’t like thinking about, but I had to.

  Smile now fully shifted to a frown, I reached my destination and got busy running all the tests I needed to. Structural analysis, double-checking the previous patch I had made the first time the tube blew, space radiation and electromagnetic readings, the works really.

  It took me a solid hour to finish, and when I finally did, I was excited to go back to my room and see what exactly Mimic had learned. Hitting my comm, I steadied my voice. “Finished here. Everything is good to go.”

  “Great. We’re due to start mining tomorrow.”

  “Cool.” I went to click off before thinking better of it. “Uh, hey. Have we scanned these asteroids for any signs of life?”

  “Signs of life? Are you kidding me?”

  “Y-yeah. What if there’s some sort of harmful bacteria or mutated fungus we’re bringing in? Doesn’t it seem like we should be carefully testing each of these celestial bodies before crushing them up and reducing them to their raw materials?”

  “That just might be the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard, Higgens, and I’ve been a government-contracted employee for ten years. From the moment we mine a single thing, it never integrates with the interior of our ship. We suck it up into those hermetically sealed tubes, then send it to the sorter, and so on and so on. All of it is entirely contained.”

  “Except for when there’s accidents.” I countered. “Like the last time I was here.”

  “Yeah, occasionally things go south. But you’re fine, right? If there ever is an emergency like that—which there never will be because we’re in space—we’ll deal with it.” A frustrated sound boomed through the technology. “Gods, Higgens, I don’t have time for this. Waste any more time and I’ll dock it out of your pay.”

  The comm clicked off and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. What a twat.

  Abruptly, I was very done with humans in general. Packing up my cart, I headed back to my room. I was so fired up over how my boss had spoken to me that I almost forgot that I had left a sentient alien that could take on any form in my bedroom.

  That certainly put some pep in my step, and I rushed the remaining way to my room.

  I slid my card in the door and punched in my code. It seemed to take ages for the pneumatic doors to slide open and I quickly shimmied inside.

  I was greeted by an empty room and terror seized me. Then, as the doors slid closed, something emerged from my scrap-box. I almost screamed again, but managed to catch myself just as the formless blob solidified into the Mimic’s human form.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped, clutching at my chest. “You gotta be more careful or I’m going to die of an apoplexy.”

  “Die, verb form of the noun Death, meaning the action or act of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism,” she said, voice strangely musical with intonations in all the wrong areas. “Apoplexy: unconsciousness or incapacity resulting from a cerebral hemorrhage or stroke.”

  My jaw would have dropped if I wasn’t so thoroughly amused by the incredibly serious expression on her face as she rattled off definitions. “Yes, those are all correct. Did you learn those on the net today?”

  “Learn, to gain or acquire knowledge of or skill in by study, experience or being taught.”

  “Yup, that’s right too. But you know there’s more to a conversation than definitions.”

  “Definition: a statement of the exact meaning of a word, es—”

  “Right. I got it. We’ll work on that.”

  I walked over to my bed and managed to plop down, gesturing for her to sit in the chair. She looked from me, to the chair, then back before tilting her head. Right, she probably wouldn’t understand almost any physical prompts or slang.

  All my doubts about her potentially not being sentient were pretty much out the window. In just a few hours, she had taught herself how to read and obviously had been very busy digesting the entire contents of some dictionary or another. Actually, in our current situation, I was definitely the dumbass. I couldn’t help but wonder if the little being had been trying to talk to me since I had found it, or if shapeshifting a human’s brain was what gave it its intellect. Perhaps that was a little self-centered to think, but this was the first alien known to man. I had no idea what made her tick, tock or shift.

  “So, let’s start with the basics. What is your name?”

  “Name?” she repeated. “A word or set of words by which—”

  “No,” I said quickly, cutting her off. “No more of those straight definitions. If I wanted to read a dictionary, I would. I mean…” I tried to think of the best way
to phrase it. “Who are you?”

  For the first time, her face took on an expression that wasn’t a mirror of my own. “Who…am I?”

  “Yes! Do you have a name? What do your friends or family call you?”

  “Friends…” she repeated slowly. I waited patiently. The poor alien had obviously spent so much of the afternoon submerging herself in learning that I didn’t mind being put on pause while she searched for an answer. “Family…” More pause, and her eyes slid over the room as if they were searching for something to help her communicate what she wanted to say. “…are dead.”

  That wasn’t where I was hoping the conversation was going.

  “This…beast killed them.”

  Now it was my turn to parrot things back. “Beast? Y-you mean the ship?”

  “Ship: a vessel larger than a boat for transporting people or goods by sea. This is…a vessel? Not a beast that has eaten both you and I?”

  Oh no. I could understand exactly how she had come to that conclusion, but I was about to give her a rude awakening. “No. It’s a mechanical ship, and we travel through space and mine valuable minerals from asteroids, comets, and small moons.”

  “Mine: used to refer to a thing or things belonging to or associated with the speaker.”

  “No, not that one.”

  “Mine: an excavation in the earth for extracting coal and other minerals.” Her eyes went wide as she finished her statement. “But I saw its teeth!”

  “No, you saw the drill bit as it churned up the asteroid that you were living on.”

  Silence again, and she almost seemed frozen in place while her brain churned. “You killed my family?”

  Crap. Here was the moment I was dreading. “I didn’t personally, no. And the crew didn’t mean to! There’s not supposed to be life in space, so they didn’t think they were hurting anyone. Or anything.”

  “S-space?”

  Yeah, you know that thing outside of your asteroid?”

  “As…teroid?”

  I was surprised that she didn’t go into another long string of definitions. “Yeah, your home. That’s what we call it.”

  “I… I see.” She went quiet again, but I didn’t rush the conversation. I was guessing her day had just gone from full of excitement and potential to decidedly awful. “So I am…alone?”

  “Well, I’m here for you.”

  “But my home…it is no more?”

  “…no,” I finished lamely.

  “So, all this work I have done to find a form and speak to you, learning your language and speech, just to find out I will never be able to return home again?”

  Geez, this was not something they taught me how to deal with in custodial and maintenance training. “I’m so, so sorry. But there has to be other asteroids with aliens like you, right? I can help you find them!”

  A soft, barely-there smile turned up the corner of her mouth. Had she learned that online or was that an instinctive reaction? Either way, it made me feel better to see a glimmer of hope in her countenance. “You would…help me?”

  “Of course! It’s the least I could do.”

  “But why? Your ship killed us all.”

  “Oh, whoa, nonono. This isn’t my ship,” I objected hastily. “I’m just a glorified janitor with a handful of repair responsibilities. Mostly, I handle a lot of disposal and cleanup.”

  “Janitor: a person employed as a caretaker of a building; a custodian. I do not understand. What is an employee?”

  “Someone who works for another person for money.”

  “What is money?”

  Goodness, was this what it was like being a new parent? I was already feeling exhausted and we’d been talking for less than ten minutes. “In my culture, people don’t exchange items for other items anymore. Instead, we work for promissory notes that we can then trade in for the things we need.”

  “That…doesn’t make sense.”

  “I suppose to you, it wouldn’t. Asteroid life is probably a lot different from Earth’s.”

  “Earth? Is that your home?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it is mined as well for the resources?”

  “Yeah, actually. Only the richest of the rich live there now on carefully maintained oases. The rest of us live on colonies of varying levels of squalor or space-bound vessels doing work for the government.”

  “I see,” she murmured slowly. “I believe I read about this. It is called distribution of wealth, yes?”

  “Yeah, actually! Very good.”

  “I couldn’t comprehend it as I was reading. It seemed so strange that some of you would be allowed to have whatever they needed to survive while others could not have enough. But now that I know your people do not even care for its own, it is easy to understand how they could so readily destroy others.”

  “I’d like to contest that opinion, but given our history, I can’t really. But I am serious that I want to help. I feel absolutely terrible for what happened to you, and it’s my responsibility to get you back to your people safely.”

  “How can we do that?”

  “I, uh… I’m not exactly sure. I’ll have to ask around without arousing suspicion.”

  “And you can do that?”

  I shrugged, giving her my best ‘I-can-do-it’ grin that I could muster. “I guess we won’t know until I try.”

  “I see. Thank you…” She paused again, her face going blank. “You asked me a question when you first entered the room. I did not understand it, but now I do, and I will ask it of you. What are you called?”

  “Oh! You can call me Higgens! And what about you? Do you have a name?” That was a stupid question! This girl was a sentient being who had a family and home, and definite concept of what life and death was. Of course she had a name.

  “Yes,” she answered with a nod. “It is—” A sound came out of her mouth that was nowhere near human. It was somewhere between one of her adorable trills that she had made when I first found her, a bleet, and a high-pitched static that made me want to kick myself in the teeth if I were that flexible.

  “I uh, I don’t think I can pronounce that.”

  She nodded. “Yes, human noise-fronds are much different from my own species. But you have been using a specific chirp at me since we met. I suppose that will do as well as any other.”

  “What, you mean Mimic?”

  “Mimic: A person skilled in imitating the voice, mannerism or movements of others in an entertaining way.” Now her face split into a beautiful, genuine grin. “You find me entertaining?”

  “Y-yeah, of course. You’re a fun little bean.”

  “Bean? That is a—”

  “Nickname!” I quickly interrupted. “And that’s exactly what you need. Your name is Mimic, but how about I call you…Mimi. It’s a bit more personal.”

  “Myself-myself. Mimi. Yes, it is always good for a shapeshifter to remind themselves that no matter their form, they are always themselves. Thank you, Higgens, you are truly a good…” She paused, no doubt searching for the correct word again. “…alien friend.”

  “We’re called humans, actually.”

  “Ah, yes. I remember that. Human.” She offered her hand and another beaming smile. “I saw this on the net of which you speak. This is how two allies agree upon a course of action, correct?”

  “Correct,” I answered with a smile. “Here’s to getting you home.”

  5

  SCAN THIS

  I GROANED as my alarm went off. Despite having a full night’s sleep, my dreams had been a wild ride, leaving me feeling exhausted before the day even started. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes to see a large, black puddle on my floor.

  “Mimi?” I questioned.

  The onyx pool began to bubble, then solidified until her female form was laying on the ground, looking perfectly groomed, rested, and ready to go.

  “Greetings, Higgens. Are you ready to begin the operation to return me to my home?”

  “Yes, indeed,” I said, forcing myself
to my feet. It also probably didn’t help that I had slept in my uniform. Perhaps a hot shower would do me some good.

  But that could wait until after I made all of this right. We had hurt someone, whether intentionally or not, and I needed to make up for it.

  “Alright, can you tell me what today’s part of the plan is?” I quizzed her.

  “Yes. I will stay here and learn more of your culture while you go and question members of the crew on how one might be able to find my kin.”

  “Very good, and what are we not going to do?”

  Her eyes flicked to me from where she had seated herself at my desk. “I am unsure, but I believe this is an example of something called ‘patronizing.’ I am not an idiot, Higgens. I know that revealing myself to the species who destroyed my home without a second thought and has no prior track record with dealing with alien life—as well as a terrible history of how they treat their own people—is a terrible idea.”

  “Oh. Right, sorry. I just worry, ya know. Especially with the whole dampening chamber thing you pulled.”

  “I was starving, and knew I needed enough energy to be able to expand my form into one similar to your species. Communication was worth the risk.”

  “Of course. And obviously it worked out for you. I’m going to go ahead and step out before I put my foot any further in my mouth.”

  “Is that something humans can do?” Her hands went to her hips. “These seem much too solidly connected for that.”

  “It’s an expression. Why don’t you look up what those are? Alright, awesome, I’ll see you later now. Bye!”

  I rushed out, cheeks flushing a bit pink. Gosh, I was awkward with conversation. It figured that Mimi was going to learn her first impressions of human interaction from someone who barely understood it. I hope I didn’t socially cripple her for life.

  Then again, if I was returning her to her own people, that wouldn’t matter much. It would have been nice to daydream about how whatever I taught her would affect her species’ view of us, but I didn’t have the time. I was on a mission, after all.