Yngve, AR - Alien Beach

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by Alien Beach (lit)


  "When I had grown old enough to spend most of my days on land and work there, our people largely knew the terrible truth: our dying minds did not soar into space. The faith in the Pull was rapidly breaking down, and everyone was stricken by a sense of lost purpose. The universe was no longer the place we had assumed it to be.

  "Once I had fully accepted the futility of burning my dead relatives, I overcame my despair and decided to become a scientist. I reasoned with my friends thus: we had to find a way to complete the ascension of our people, restore the Pull - or our people would be doomed.

  "One thing our species has never lacked, is courage - within my earthly lifetime, a third of our homeworld's resources had been directed toward this goal.

  " This was why we decided to leave our sun and seek out new space - to keep the Pull going forever. Once our astronomers learned of the disaster that would eventually befall our solar system, the great work began to move our entire people to new stars.

  "But there was still one great fear that held us back from spaceflight - the fear of the emptiness of space. No air to breathe; no soothing water to sleep in, and this caused an innate panic in us, which runs very deep.

  "The challenge seemed too great, until one of us constructed the machines that made the Ancestors real things. With the Ancestors there ahead of us, our fear of empty space was alleviated.

  "I became one of the first, real Ancestors - the risk of failure was high, and several volunteers had died in previous attempts to become transformed. At the time of my turn, I was so old that I had come to live exclusively on land, and my body was frail. To lessen my fear of real death, I took to repeat some of the funeral proceedings of the old faith, just before the transformation process could begin. These proceedings came to live on in the new tradition.

  "As was the ancient custom of our old and dying, I stood upon my home beach, where countless generations had stood before me, and shouted the ritual words: 'Ancestors - I am ready!' Though it might have seemed a mockery then, it made me more confident - I spoke not to the previous ancestors, but those who were to come after me.

  "How do I describe the transformation process? The amount of energy involved is considerable - this energy is used to break down time and distance, the illusions that the real things create when they dance. I ceased to be in time and distance, and became... real.

  "Since real Ancestors are not in time and distance, it is as if they all are present... everywhere and nowhere. All who have ever been transformed are together, generation after successive generation. From the first one, to the last one that ever was transformed at the end of my people's time."

  "Once this process had begun with me and my friends, it was to continue. From an early stage it was understood, that one could not be born an Ancestor, but first had to grow into maturity. Our children cannot walk on land until they have grown appropriately.

  "Finally, inspired by the apparitions of real Ancestors in the sky, my people could make the mass exodus from their home star with confidence.

  "Like so, the pattern is unbroken; the Pull is forever. Even among Ancestors, the Pull exists in some form; I cannot describe it, but it must go on - forever higher. The energy I use to speak through this being should not be continued... it would damage him."

  The soldier's eyelids fluttered; he woke up from what he perceived as a trance. He could recall most of what had been said, but some limit of nature must have been reached - the memory of the Ancestor's message was already fading. His head began to ache again.

  Carl, Oanorrn, and Namonnae were too stunned to speak or react. None of them seemed prepared for this.

  Finally, Namonnae said slowly: "I doo nnot knoow iif thhis iis aa reaal Aancestor tallking. Laand-humaans aare nnot reeeliablle."

  And in the eyes of Carl and the soldier, she was being perfectly honest. Oanorrn's face turned sunken and sad. He talked to her in their own tongue, slower than usual - she replied in terse, clipped phrases.

  "They are arguing," the soldier told Carl. "Something about her being mistaken and immature. He says she has not understood her own kind as related to land-humans. She could be his daughter, but I'm not sure if that's what they mean. Namonnae dislikes... land-humans."

  Carl hushed the soldier, took him aside, and let the two amphibians argue in private. "So what are your plans then? When their year is up, the amphibians will return the island to its native owners. Will you go back to America with us?"

  "I cannot answer yet. There is something I need to stay here to get done, before the year is up."

  The soldier pointed at his own growing forehead ridge, and explained: "This is going to continue - it's the Pull in me, it has been so strong and now it's finally being released - but it needs time to grow. No one ever became an adult from the moment he was born. It could be of good to others, but who can tell now? Just let it happen."

  Carl didn't quite know what he ought to be thinking. "Okay. Okay. Just one thing - I found this the other day. You'll need it."

  Carl gave the soldier Stone's baseball cap. "So people won't stare at your head."

  When they parted ways and Carl returned to his other duties, he recalled the cheap paperback novels of his youth, which brought him escape from growing up in the rough streets of New York. In those books, the hero traveled to other worlds and met fantastic creatures - some of them beautiful women.

  The hero of his favorite novel had teleported himself to another planet by merely wishing it so; Carl had, as a nave, yearning ten-year-old tried to wish himself into space, with no result. He had grown up and eventually accepted, that one doesn't get something for nothing.

  And yet - here was that soldier, that nobody, coming closer to aliens than anyone else, without any technical equipment at all... as if his wishing it so was all it took... Carl shook his head, recalling a quote: We are all born in the gutter; but some of us look to the stars.

  He found himself longing for his wife's love and support, so much so that it hurt.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  DAY 127

  "Today, the first rescue ships are allowed in to the edge of the three-mile perimeter around Alien Beach. They will pick up stranded survivors of a Saudi and an Iranian submarine crew, for transport to their homelands. Patrolboats from the U.N.-controlled fleet handle the transfer of the survivors to the rescue ships. A few of the castaways gave these comments to the CNN, on board a rescue vessel..."

  "The Sirians are like humans, not demons! Our leaders lied to us! Allah is greater than any leader, for he created an infinite universe."

  "I talked to a Sirian, and she gave me this flute. I will leave the military, and become a musician. No more war for me."

  "We went to attack, and they took us from our submarine. I cannot describe what happened. Now I am still afraid, but I am going home to see my family again, and I am happy for that!"

  "This war was a great mistake."

  "The leaders of Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, and the new Saudi interim government today jointly declared peace with the amphibians, and agreed to follow the amphibians' original agreement with the United Nations. Their military alliance has been terminated indefinitely. The leaders will also meet with the U.S. President this week, and negotiate improved relations.

  "King Khadi of Saudi Arabia reportedly suffered a debilitating stroke yesterday, and has lost the ability to speak. His family is now under house arrest, following rumors of their attempted coup against the interim government..."

  The soldier waved goodbye to the last Iranian crewman, safely out of view of the American patrolboats, and saw him head away with the last group of castaways. And he was thinking: Be careful, now. You'll have a lot of things to tell the folks back home. And even if their leaders will try to silence you, they won't succeed. Just bring back the right message. Don't tell them you met the sky gods, but... the sky people.

  Just a wisp of clouds hung above; circling birds filled the blue sky. Just for once, everything seemed to be going in the right direction.


  DAY 130

  "Carl Sayers left Alien Beach today, to visit his family in the United States for a number of weeks. The journey is shrouded in much secrecy, to avoid any lingering risk of terrorist attacks..."

  Carl's wife ran up to him at the airport, and flung herself into his arms. They were both too overjoyed to speak; she began kissing Carl in a frenzy. Their adult son came and joined the reunion; all were so happy to see each other in safety, that not a word about amphibians was uttered between them for the remainder of that day.

  "The media are beginning to question the United Nations' handling of the Alien Beach crisis. Even though advance plans to deal with extraterrestrial contact actually existed, the United Nations did far less than expected to unite the world's peoples when faced with the first contact.

  "A few member states are now suggesting, that the U.N. should take the first steps toward becoming a world government, to represent the whole of mankind in such events. Other representatives, chiefly from the Orient, claim the U.N. organization is too compromised by history to form an unbiased world government. Nevertheless, the question of a world government is for the first time being taken seriously by politicians, and the next one hundred years may well see such a structure come true."

  "Next: The Pope speaks out about Ancestors. Bishop Edmund Soto's first public report on amphibian religion sparks cautious criticism from the Vatican... after this."

  DAY 140

  "They are leaving already? Why? What did we do wrong?" said Takeru, his face distorted by pent-up emotion.

  Carl explained to the team, keeping his own grief in check. "Nobody's fault - change of schedule, that's all. The lander just received a message from the mothership: the entire Sirian expedition must move out of the Solar System sooner than estimated, to catch up with the homeworld as it passes by."

  "So it's true then," Ann said. "Their entire home planet is their real mothership."

  "Who told you that?"

  "Oanss did," she said, with more than hint of defiance in her tone.

  Carl nodded. "It's official then. But their homeworld's orbit will remain secret, and we won't be able to see it, I assume. Apparently, they will hold a special ceremony on the island just before taking off - I didn't get any more details."

  Lazar said: "Today I found that my mind-recorder was broken. It was just decaying into a lump of dead metal. They won't let us keep anything but the memories and our own records of their visit."

  Mats Jonsson suddenly seemed to grasp the news: pale in his face, he slumped down on an empty seat. "I had collected DNA samples from some of them. The genetic samples are all that'll be left of them when they're gone... should I destroy them, just to make sure they're not misused?"

  They all thought about it for a while.

  "Check that the Sirians haven't destroyed them."

  Mats rushed away to his lab barrack.

  Later, the Swede gave them a report: "It's all there. All the cell and DNA samples... in Sirian cold-storage canisters they gave me. It is possible to clone a living Sirian from these. We could do it. And they let me keep them, knowing the risk. Why?"

  "You must show some confidence in humanity!" Takeru croaked, his eyes red, his voice choking. "Besides, the Ancestors... they would notice if Sirians were re-created here, no? You said they would be able to tune in on any Sirians, anywhere."

  "This could mean something," said Mats. "If only I knew what."

  Takeru had a few ideas about that, and he kept them to himself.

  DAY 141

  Takeru asked to meet Namonnae. She refused to come out of the ship. He persisted, and stood calling for hours, until the sun went down and he had to retreat.

  The next day he returned to the ship and continued calling for her. And the next day, and the next...

  DAY 149

  "This is the last time we can meet?" Ann asked Oanss.

  He explained to her, that this was not strictly true: when he would grow old and be transformed into an Ancestor, he would gain access to all his past time - and be able to remember all their moments together, as clearly as when they had happened. As an Ancestor, he would also be able to perceive all her descendants, for as long as they existed.

  Ann asked him for a parting gift; not any machine or technical knowledge.

  "Give me some of your DNA," she said, perfectly calm. "I will store it, preserve it, until we can cross-breed my DNA with yours - and we will have children. Or at least, the possibility of children."

  Oanss hugged her. Holding onto her, he explained he had already given Mats his cell samples in a storage container. She did not have to clone children from them, even though the suggestion pleased him.

  "Thank you," she said into his ear opening. "I love so you very much."

  He squeezed her tighter against himself, and said nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  DAY 150

  A multitude of large Sirian machines was active on the beach, operated by amphibians via remote-control mental links. A monolith made of transparent blue quartz alloy, three meters thick, was quickly erected in the center-point of the island, reaching five meters above ground. Its base reached two meters into the coral bed, where the machines welded it to the volcanic bedrock.

  On three of the monolith's four sides, the same message had been inscribed in three languages with Roman letters, 30 centimeters high:

  WHEN ALL PEOPLES OF THE HUMAN SPECIES HAVE REACHED THE HIGHEST LEVEL OF CIVILIZATION AND ALL WARS HAVE CEASED, THIS MACHINE WILL OPEN AND REVEAL TO ALL THE KNOWLEDGE OF ETERNAL LIFE.

  ANY ATTEMPT TO MOVE OR OPEN THIS MACHINE BY OUTSIDE FORCE WILL CAUSE IT TO SELF-DESTRUCT.

  On the fourth side, the message was repeated in the amphibian land-alphabet. No one in the ECT knew who wrote the original test. Some speculated that Carl Sayers had helped the amphibians formulate it; he denied the rumors.

  The placing of this artifact, on a remote Pacific island of no other importance, would make pilgrimage difficult. Nevertheless, there was already talk of pilgrimage tours being organized under the supervision of the Fiji government and the United Nations. The two "evacuated" scientists, Andrea and Stone, had returned to witness the ceremony; only the ECT and the amphibians were on the island.

  A few helicopters were skirting the perimeter, and ships were cruising by farther out at sea. For the benefit of the world, Takeru had rigged up a battery of TV cameras with a satellite link, broadcasting the entire event.

  After the monolith had been secured and the machines had retreated into the bowels of the lander, the entire group of amphibians came out to look at it.

  Carl, Lazar, Takeru, Andrea, Stone, Mats, Ann, and Edmund stood quietly by the foot of the monument and waited, while Ranmotanii's group came closer. They were all painfully aware of the cameras and the eyes of the world watching them through the cameras.

  Ranmotanii was dressed in Bermuda shorts, like every member of his flock - probably the last time they would wear wear land-human clothes. He went over to each and every one of the scientists, and clasped their hands in his. His eyes seemed a bit drawn, but he kept a straight face throughout - as if he too was aware of the cameras, and posterity. Then again, for him to stoop down to hug Carl and the others would have seemed condescending. When Ranmotanii was done pressing hands, the other Sirians took turns making official farewell-gestures.

  The young Mnmnonns came forth, put a flute to her delicate lips and played a piece of music, improvised or composed. It was an entirely new melange of human and amphibian sounds, that made the scientists' eyes water. Without doubt, this was the most beautiful, moving music they had ever heard; they were grateful the music was being recorded for future listeners. Her piece lasted about three minutes.

  Aonasann, whom the scientists had come to think of as the quiet type, unexpectedly held an hour-long speech in broken English. He mostly talked about the beauty of birds and animals, the likes of which did not exist on his homeworld. He finished off with a mentioning
of the Ancestors and shook hands with all the scientists, then retreated to his group. It was hard to judge whether Aonasann was trying to control his emotions, or was naturally calm.

  Moanossoans, the tall female, hugged each scientist for half a minute... nearly squeezing the breath out of them. She made a little wailing sound to the sky, told Carl that she wished the Ancestors should guard him, and excused herself.

  Snaoosnee, the aged female, her face solemn, also invoked the Ancestors. She then performed a ritual dance like the one around the antenna tree. The undulating movements of her arms became waves, lapping against the shore that was her body. The dance ended with her stretching up against the sky, becoming a sleek projectile about to launch. The scientists applauded her, though it felt embarrassingly inadequate - like tourists applauding an arcane ritual.

  Tmmtenaa had completely recovered from the bullet wound to his head. He repeatedly wailed with sorrow; Moanossoans tried to comfort him, and managed to calm him enough not to interrupt the ceremony.

  Oanss, when his turn came, shook hands with the ECT team - as was the Earth custom known from TV broadcasts. When he came to Ann, he squeezed her hands extra long, invoked the Ancestors, and reluctantly let go of her - she let out a shuddering sigh, and shut her eyes.

  Oanorrn, standing in the center of the group, supported by two younger Sirians, appeared older than ever. His legs seemed about to give out under him, and he repeatedly squinted as if his vision was faltering. Restlessly shifting position, struggling to stay upright, he waited for Namonnae to come forth. She stood at the outskirts of the group, and averted her eyes from the entire scene.

  At length, while listening to Tmmtenaa praising the architecture of Earth's cities, the scientists began to sense something was wrong. Their mind-recording devices had self-destructed - on cue from their visitors, no doubt - but the after-effects of the technology remained.

 

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