"Reiki!" said Carmen, her eyes glowing in the firelight. "It's not coffee—yet! But with a little more careful roasting than you gave it, and grinding of course, I think we can come up with something pretty close!" She took another sip. "It's already better than we had on Prometheus!" she enthused. I remembered when our original stores had been used up, and how disgusted she had been with the Christmas Bush version of the brew. I smiled happily at her, noticing again how pretty Carmen is now that all the makeup she wore has vanished.
Quickly the others tasted, critical, but genuinely appreciative of my serendipitous concoction. I've never been a connoisseur of coffee, and to me it tasted both weak and bitter, but perhaps that can be bettered when the cooks are in charge. At any rate, it helped to make up for the meagerness of the rest of our meal, for which I was grateful!
"You know, Reiki, in the normal course of events, you'd never have had a thing to do with beans, or fire, or even making mistakes," said Shirley thoughtfully. "Of course I'll be only too happy to turn everything back over to James, when we can, but . . .it's really rather exciting, doing things for ourselves."
Jinjur grinned, her white teeth bright in the firelight. "So far we've been lucky," she said. "We're still just blundering around, without really knowing what we're doing."
David glanced up at the leafy roof above us. "Well, considering, I agree with Shirley. I never helped raise a roof before, never thought I would, but it's up and doing the job, and we sure did every bit of it ourselves."
"After all the high-tech apparatus built into my standing desk in the hydroponics lab, this is a definite come-down! But it works," Nels admitted. "This" is a long, narrow, flat-topped work area, consisting of leaf-planks lying on simple saw-horse arrangements. It accommodates Nels's lanky height as well as Arielle's small stature by the simple expedient of going uphill, and each of us has found a spot upon it that suits us.
While we at, and rested through the remaining dark hour of midday, I completed this entry into my journal, but said no word of the discovery of the decorated tree. I don't know why I am keeping that to myself, nor why I am determined to return to it as quickly as I can. It's unlike me to be secretive, but, in this case, the secrecy is compelling.
Would the bizarre interview have concluded less happily, if I had not kept my discovery to myself? I flatter myself that it might have indeed, but of course I cannot be sure.
Before the light had advanced even to dimness, I slipped off, heading silently back to the strange tree I had found. I made good speed, although the light was still gloomy in the slow rain. I had gone well over a mile when I heard, ahead of me, the peculiar whistling we had been puzzling over, and I hid behind the trunk of one of the big banyan-like trees; if this approaching "owl" was communicating with anyone, I wanted no warning of my presence to be communicated. The "owl" flew past me, and I went warily, from cover to cover, hoping I might find who, or what, had been decorating the tree.
Ahead of me I could hear strange new sounds—sounds unlike any I had ever heard before. Keeping out of sight as much as possible, I approached the final thicket where I had last seen the tree, peered through the thorny foliage, then stood, absolutely transfixed. The strange "tree" was MOVING! I cannot express my shock, at seeing the long, thick roots alternately lifting, three at a time, transporting the "plant," slowly, ponderously, with very definite intent, in an elephantine but effective march!
As I stared, dumbfounded, several of the little "owls" emerged from the nest-like structures in the canopy, and flew off in various directions. Their strange cries instantly began again, whether to signal each other or the big "tree" I had no way of knowing. The moving green giant had now reached the edge of the thorny barrier. With difficulty, I remained quiet, struggling to assimilate the meaning of what I was seeing, as the spiky coils rolled back upon themselves, and the "tree" continued its plodding pace, through the opening in the barrier!
Keeping out of sight, I followed the slow progress of the incredible traveling plant. I was fascinated to see that the method of locomotion, while tediously slow, provides maximum stability for what must be considerable weight. The front "leg," as that is what it seems to be, moves in unison with the back side pair for a single massive step; then the trunk is balanced on those three legs while the front side pair and the rear leg move forward in the next step. It is a series of smooth, slow movements, seemingly hydraulic in nature. They were carrying the beast smoothly along the trail; with yet another shock, I realized that the trail was one that led directly to our camp!
I ran ahead to find a good vantage point where I could watch the trail without being seen. It was hours later, and well into the afternoon, when the tree finally ambled into view. It stopped at a thorn thicket just off the trail, and, after a whistle which somehow produced an opening, it went inside. In about the center of the thicket, the "plant" paused in its motion.
In increasing disbelief I watched as one of the roots rose, slowly and smoothly, to the belt around its middle and, without fumbling, removed from a scabbard what certainly looked like an obsidian blade! Two other legs rose to a net hanging down from the blue-green fronds to remove and unwrap a package containing a chunk of something. Using the sharp blade with precision, and an economy of movement that told its own story of sophistication, the amazing creature cut the contents of the package into segments. Some of these segments it swung up to the opening in the "trunk" where they were taken by the small creatures inside. The remaining segments were rewrapped, equally slowly and exactly, in what looked like a thin waxy leaf and placed back into the carrying net.
Then, carefully, the roots lowered the red-embroidered, apron-like cloth until it covered the hole in the trunk. From behind the cloth I could hear soft but definite crunching noises, and I concluded that the segments were being consumed in some fashion.
The thing had been standing still while this took place, but it now resumed its ponderous progress. I began to think, as hard as I could, and swiftly. The strange decorations on the "tree" were, even from this distance, both bizarre and formal, and immaculately clean; it was impossible to mistake a genuine intent in this steady advance; nor could I overlook the obvious intelligence concealed somewhere in this alien creature. We were soon to receive a most unusual visitor!
Quickly, I considered my options. At the rate the giant "plant" was moving, it would be a number of hours at least before it would come near enough to our small camp to meet any of the others by chance. I would have plenty of time to warn them—if that was what was necessary here! But I waited, thinking. This approach had much of stateliness about it, and nothing of hostility. A native of this world, of such size, with unmistakable technical abilities, with appreciation of adornment for its own sake, with apparent control over at least some other species extant here—all of this indicated an emissary worthy of our own most civilized behavior. In an initial confrontation, it was vital that our behavior be not only civilized, but universally understandable. I stood, and took a deep breath.
I felt, very strongly, that I was better suited to make the first tentative step towards amity than most of the others, if not all. I hoped I might be able to provide a peaceful liaison between this incredible being and the weary, worried members of my group. At any rate, I resolved to try.
Still keeping myself concealed from the "owls," who did indeed seem to serve as advance warning for the "tree," I hurried ahead some distance and began to look for a suitable meeting site. It was important that I appear calm and ready for the greeting, and neither hostile nor servile. I found what I was looking for, a few feet off the creature's direct line of march. It was a large rock, to the top of which I was able to climb with a few easy steps. Here I sat, straight, and as still as I could hold.
The moving tree came steadily on. One of the small flying creatures, returning, caught sight of me and emitted such a startled squeak of sound that I nearly laughed. It circled me twice and then flew back to its nest on the animal. After moving about inside
for a short while, it returned to the opening in the nest and stayed there, its large eye focused directly upon me. The giant creature stopped, and from the surrounding forest, two other "owls" emerged, returning immediately to their "nests," from which all three surveyed me unblinkingly. I sat motionless, except for speaking softly into the recorder, while I was examined, and commented on apparently, for several minutes.
Then, slowly, almost formally, the tree started walking toward me. With each step it raised its moving legs high, and spread the roots at the tips of the legs, as if to show that they were empty of weapons. One of the small scurrying creatures, poised in the trunk opening, whistled a melody different from any I had heard before. It was brief, and repeated several times. There was no doubt in my mind that I was being greeted in a most formal and peaceful manner.
Before it had come much nearer, I stood up on the rock, put the recorder into my pocket, extended my own arms and opened my empty hands. I remained standing tall for a minute, my head nearly level with the top of the fronds on the alien, and then, carefully and precisely I stepped from the rock and lowered my arms. I wanted to make it clear that while I could move with much greater speed than the being before me, I chose not to do so at this time. With slow and steady steps I approached, stopping about five meters in front of the now motionless creature. As slowly and formally as I could, I bowed low. This elicited a ripple of movement from the creature. I straightened, and began to speak in my normal voice.
"I and my friends have come in peace to visit your land. We mean you no harm, although we find ourselves in need of sustenance and shelter, which we have made bold to take for ourselves. We hope that our visit will be beneficial to us, and at least harmless to you. Perhaps we can learn much of value from each other. Certainly, if that is the case, it will be in our mutual best interest to pursue the ways of friendship."
Of course I knew my words would mean nothing to the intelligence before me, but I have long observed that the tones in a human voice convey infinitely more subtle messages than words. The fact that I appreciated and was impressed by the awesome presence of this being would inevitably be communicated if I spoke sincerely, and, more importantly, at some length. I paused, and then, as nearly as I could, I repeated the little tune of greeting.
My heart was pounding, but I soon controlled my breathing and was quiet again. The little animal in the opening vanished suddenly, which caught my eye. It was instantly replaced—by a different one? I could not tell. It began whistling something—neither song nor speech, but with something of each—which went on for nearly a minute. As it was concluding, I saw, with some trepidation, one of the long "legs" rising slowly towards me. It came steadily on, until it was in the air, midway between us, when it stopped. Carefully, slowly, I extended my hand, and, with the lightest possible touch, put my fingers on the outstretched root of the alien. It felt as much like a plant as it looked, but nonetheless real, and I withdrew my hand slowly, my mind tingling as my fingers were not, at the unbelievable meeting.
Which seemed to be over. It was late in the afternoon and it was getting dark. The small animal disappeared inside the trunk, and the enormous legs began their strange shuffle toward a nearby thorn thicket. One of the small creatures in the mouth of the alien gave a whistle and the thorn bush opened to allow the alien in. I turned and sprinted off down the trail toward our camp, as the owls returned to their nests.
It is now the next morning, and I have narrated as clearly as I can all that happened yesterday. I have gone back up the trail and checked, and the creature is back out of its thorn thicket and is obviously on its way here. My recorder is on now so that I won't have to repeat our plans, and so that the upcoming encounter can be entered as it occurs. I'll try to keep our comments identified, so that when we can get this account to James it will be clear. (Fortunately, I can enter my own comments with my fingertips, unheard.)
"How far away is the creature by now, Reiki?" (This was Jinjur.)
"As near as I can judge, about half a kilometer. That'll take it a couple of hours, but we'll see it well before that."
"We've got to be ready for an attack. There's absolutely no reason to count on this being a friendly visit." (John, ever wary!)
"On the contrary—I think we ought to assume it is friendly until we have good cause to think otherwise. For it to have met Reiki in such neutral circumstances, and stayed benign, is a pretty good sign." (Nels, with quiet firmness.)
"For Reiki to have deliberately confronted the thing was stupid!" (Richard, growling.)
"And dangerous. I'm furious about that, Reiki!" (Jinjur is angrier with me than I have ever seen her. I shall speak in my own defense, and in that of the giant—I must succeed in this!)
"I know it was not only not stupid, it was not dangerous. You will see, and feel, as I did, the lack of hostility in this . . .this giant, when you meet it, if you are willing to wait, and remain calm. That's why I wanted to prepare both you and it. And why I ask you, please, to be ready to greet it peacefully, and move slowly and tranquilly. It has come a long way with great patience, to seek us out; I suspect that through its seeing eye owls, it already knows a great deal more about us than we do about it. And the fastest way we can establish a bond we can grow with, is to slow down to its speed, paradoxical though that sounds! We must demonstrate that we are civilized aliens, so we can learn if it too is civilized—for it certainly is alien!"
"Can you repeat that first tune you mentioned, Reiki?" (David's question, as he brought up his whistle.)
"I'll try." (I did, and David quickly copied it, although I'm afraid I got a couple of the notes wrong.)
"Shall we all stay, or some hide?" (Arielle, looking speculatively at the tall tree trunks around us.)
"I'm pretty sure it knows exactly how many we are. Those little "owls" have been about us all along, and I think they have a symbiotic relationship with the tree—or a relationship of some sort."
"Which is it, Reiki, plant or animal?" (Carmen's question.)
"I don't know. You'll see it, you decide which it is!"
(And here it comes in sight! We are lined up, two formal rows at attention, with Jinjur at our head, and all as still as possible, while the creature slowly advances. I hear gasps of amazement, and even I am newly amazed at this unbelievable sight. The blue-green fronds atop the tall creature move in the wind, and the empty "nests" swing freely. All the little "owls" but one are busy in flight, keeping us all under surveillance. The amazing roots move slowly but efficiently, and one of the small animals suddenly appears in the opening. It's the greeting-song again! David gives me a reproachful look—I had indeed got the tune wrong! But he slowly lifts the flute to his mouth, and responds with a very accurate imitation of the melody. The huge being almost ripples! As we agreed, I step forward, slowly, with Jinjur, until she is within reach of the long legs.)
Speaking slowly, I extend her hand: "May I present our commander, Jinjur."
(The small animal vanishes, is replaced instantly, and a new sound comes forth! Sounding amazingly similar to my tones, the speech is:)
"Maaee preeseent oor coommaandeer jeenjuur."
(Wherever this being maintains its intelligence is a mystery, but its existence is very obvious! With more self-confidence now, Jinjur takes another step, slowly indicates herself with both hands, and states:)
"Jinjur."
(The massive "foot" begins to rise. Jinjur, without flinching, extends her hand, and touches the strong extending "root." From yet another little "mole" comes a new sound—a soft, whistling.)
"Jeenjuur!"
It's once again late, and my watch. We continue to maintain one, although we've seen nothing to cause us alarm; Jinjur's military training goes too deep to allow her to relax her vigilance on our behalf, and in addition, we are still anxiously awaiting a break in the weather which might bring us a return signal from Prometheus.
I have much to think about, as I gaze at the scudding clouds. Our meeting with the giant plant last
ed for hours. At some point early on, the creature (which makes most of its sounds through the little animals we have seen gathering food!) emitted a deep noise which sounded startlingly like a chuckle. I very much doubt that it was anything of the sort, but it sounded so like a deep, human laugh that Richard exclaimed, involuntarily,
"Ho, Ho, Ho? Is it a Jolly Blue-Green Giant?"
The name stuck, I'm afraid. To me it sounds both inaccurate and condescending, but the others now refer to the immense creature as a Jolly, so I shall go along with it until we learn more.
And there is vastly more to learn! It proved surprisingly quick to copy our sounds of speech, and to learn the meanings of words. It is apparently eager to learn, and the first symbol it desired to share was the idea of "fire." We must acquire a large vocabulary to communicate more, but the few facts we have gained, with tantalizing slowness, about the way in which the Jolly exists, have been stunning in their complexity and in their total difference from anything we have ever encountered.
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