by Mitch Benn
Mrs Bradbury finished accusing her husband of making the baby cry by driving too fast, and was just turning round in her seat to check on the baby, when she heard Mr Bradbury screaming. A high-pitched scream of terror she’d never heard him make before. Turning back around, she saw what he was screaming at, and started screaming too.
Hovering impossibly a few metres above the road ahead was a huge lemon-shaped object. It seemed to crackle with a mysterious energy and bright light glared out from the many little windows along its surface. One beam shone fiercely through the car’s windscreen, blinding the Bradburys. Mr Bradbury, still screaming, slammed his foot on the brake and wrenched the steering wheel to the right. Mrs Bradbury clutched at Mr Bradbury in panic, succeeding only in putting one hand over his eyes while grabbing the steering wheel with the other, pulling it to the left. The car, very confused now, went into a flat skid, turning through a complete rotation as it passed under the hovering lemon thing, with Mr and Mrs Bradbury in the front seats clawing at each other and screaming all the way.
In the back seat, their baby girl had now stopped crying, but it was impossible to tell.
The car continued to turn, passing through another half rotation before sliding sideways off the road and into a field, coming to a bumpy halt in the long grass. Immediately the front doors of the car flew open, and Mr and Mrs Bradbury leapt out and ran, ran away across the field as fast as they could, screaming, screaming and never casting a look behind them.
Lbbp crawled out from beneath the control console and, rather pointlessly now, switched the invisibility shield back on.
He peered into the darkness, in the direction in which the two Ymns (Lbbp assumed they were Ymns) had disappeared. There was no sign of them; even his ship’s life detectors couldn’t pick them up. Lbbp wondered why Ymns needed those vehicles at all if they could move that fast on their own.
He refocused the life detectors back on the spot where the small furry animal had been. To his annoyance, but no great surprise, it had gone. Just as he was about to shut down the life detectors and set off back into space (it occurred to him that the two fast Ymns might have been running to alert the Ymn authorities, and this meant it was time to leave) the life detectors made a faint pip-pip sound.
What had they found?
Pip-pip.
A small reading, no bigger than the furry little animal, but why such a faint trace?
Pip p-pip pip.
The signal was muffled, as if the life-form was being shielded by something, but there was nothing he could see that would—
P-pip pip pip-pip.
The vehicle. Something was still inside the vehicle.
Lbbp’s mind whirred into action. On the one hand, that was a Ymn vehicle, contact with Ymns was prohibited . . . on the other hand, he hadn’t become one of Fnrr’s leading scientists by denying his curiosity, and those two fast Ymns didn’t look as if they were going to come back in the near future . . .
This is a really bad idea, thought Lbbp as he engaged the gravity beam. I shouldn’t be doing this, he thought as he stepped into the gravity beam. I could get into all sorts of trouble, he thought as he descended through the floor of the spaceship. Oh well, too late now, he concluded as his feet touched the ground.
If anyone had been around, they would have seen a shaft of bright light appear out of nowhere, and then a tall thin figure with a large bald grey head, large shiny black eyes and a lipless mouth, clad in a shimmering blue one-piece garment, sliding down this beam to the ground almost like a child on a playground slide. So it’s just as well that no one was around, as Lbbp confirmed with a quick sweep of his hand-held field-scanner. No one except whatever was inside the vehicle.
Lbbp had to bend low to peer through the vehicle’s windows. He was marvelling at the huge, clumsy-looking controls when a tiny noise from the back of the vehicle caught his attention. Turning, he saw – what was it? A small, almost hairless creature staring back at him with large, blinking blue eyes. Lbbp experienced a moment’s anxiety as he noticed that the creature was bound securely in its seat by means of firm-looking restraints. Odd; it certainly didn’t look dangerous to him. Its tiny hands had only the merest suggestion of claws, far too small and blunt to do any damage, and, as it suddenly opened its mouth wide, he could see that it had no teeth at all. A wave of Lbbp’s field-scanner confirmed that the creature’s limbs weren’t even strong enough for it to stand up unaided, never mind attack anything.
Lbbp realised what he was looking at. It was a Ymn infant, probably the offspring of the two Ymns who had fled. Lbbp felt a surge of concern and indignation at the tiny Ymn’s plight. It was just a newborn; their newborn, and not only had they lashed it in restraints like a dangerous animal, they’d abandoned it to its fate at the first hint of peril. Lbbp was angry; it was true what they said on Fnrr. Ymns were indeed foolish, brutal savages. They couldn’t care for their planet, they couldn’t care for each other and now it was clear they didn’t even care for their own children. They were disgusting.
And yet . . . this tiny Ymn didn’t seem capable of brutality or savagery as it sat in its little chair, peering at him. Seeing it now, in its newborn innocence . . . Was it really destined to grow up to be as stupid and unthinking as the rest of its species? Ymns had a basic intelligence, this was well understood. You needed at least a degree of intelligence to mess things up as completely as Ymns did.
It deserved better than this, Lbbp thought. It deserved to be raised by someone civilised, someone who would give it an understanding of the true value of things, someone who could show it the wonders of the universe and who would never EVER leave it to perish, helpless and alone, someone . . .
Lbbp suddenly saw where this train of thought was leading him. Don’t be ridiculous, he thought, it’d be dangerous, it’d be impractical, unethical, really REALLY illegal, it’d . . .
The little Ymn made a contented gurgling sound and reached out to Lbbp with a chubby pink hand. Without thinking about it, Lbbp reached out his own hand. The little Ymn grabbed his outstretched finger.
As the five tiny pink digits squeezed his long thin grey finger, Lbbp knew what he had to do.
Neither Mr nor Mrs Bradbury were especially fit, and running is hard work even when you’re not screaming at the top of your lungs. Nonetheless, they covered quite a considerable distance before they simply had to stop to get their breath back.
Once they had their breath back, naturally they started arguing with it. Strangely, given that this was the last argument Mr and Mrs Bradbury would ever have, it began much the same way as all their others: why did you grab the steering wheel; I had to, you had your eyes closed; I didn’t have my eyes closed, you had your hand over my face; I told you you should have let me drive, and anyway what have you done with the baby; what do you mean what have I done with the baby, you’ve got the baby, no you’ve got the baby, no you’ve got—
A moment’s silence.
A moment’s silence in which the sheer unimportance, the utter trivial pointlessness of this argument and every argument they’d ever had hit them like a dozen buckets of icy water, and all their anger disappeared, to be replaced by a dread that clutched at their insides like a cold hand.
Without another word to each other, the Bradburys ran. Back the way they’d come, back towards the danger they’d just fled, unaware now of tiredness or breathlessness, unaware of anything except the wet grass dragging against their legs and the freezing dread clenching ever tighter in their guts. They ran and ran, without a sound except a whispered please please please please as they went.
As they approached the road there was no sign of the floating lemon thing, nor was there any sound except their own footsteps and panting. No traffic noises. No animal sounds. No baby crying.
They saw the car. They saw that its lights were still on. They saw that its front doors were still open. Its back door was open too.
They looked into the car. They saw their bags. They saw their coats. They saw the hi
ghly expensive, and quite empty, baby seat.
For a second they stared at the baby seat, still and wordless. Then a sound came from inside Mrs Bradbury, a howl, a wail, a great animal bellow of horror and despair. Mr Bradbury stood motionless, his mouth moving silently, his eyes reddening. Then they fell like stringless puppets into each other’s arms and cried, and cried, and cried as if they would never stop. They cried for their own foolishness and for the baby they’d been too busy to name, who was now gone, they knew with a terrible, terrible certainty, somewhere they would never ever find her.
Mr and Mrs Bradbury never argued about anything ever again.
1.3
This is going to be complicated, thought Lbbp as he studied the small pink wriggly creature in his arms. Rrth – and anyone who might have been able to offer him any practical Ymn child-care advice – had already faded from the little spaceship’s screens. The ship was equipped to transport live specimens; its internal scanners had immediately gone to work analysing the Ymn infant’s anatomy and nutritional systems, and its automated chemical lab was now busily synthesising a gloopy yellowish liquid which, it had determined, would best sustain the little newcomer.
Very complicated, thought Lbbp. Very complicated indeed. Then the Ymn infant smiled up at Lbbp with such a trusting, innocent expression that Lbbp suddenly felt that maybe everything would be simple and easy after all. Then a sudden look of furious concentration passed across the little face, and, as a noxious smell drifted through the ship’s hitherto sterile internal atmosphere, Lbbp realised that everything had just become extremely complicated. He put it – or since the ship’s scanners had already determined the child to be female, rather he put HER – into a small clear tank he’d found under the console (it had been used to carry plant specimens back on his last visit; he’d been relieved to see that he’d remembered to clean it) and began rummaging through his ship’s first aid box for wiping and wrapping materials. Having found some sterilising cloths and bandages, he steeled himself, and set about unfastening the Ymn infant’s clothing.
Oh dear, thought Lbbp. Oh dear dear me.
The Ymn child smiled up at him. Lbbp held his breath and got on with the task at hand. He caught a glimpse of a readout on the forward wall of the spaceship giving an estimated time for the journey back to Fnrr, back to his home, back to the Preceptorate.
I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do, thought Lbbp.
1.4
- You have a lot of explaining to do, Postulator Lbbp.
The voice was that of Preceptor Shm, head of Hrrng Preceptorate. It echoed around the shining quartz walls of the Preceptorate’s main conference chamber, to which Lbbp had been rather ominously summoned.
His return had, at first, gone unnoticed. Everyone at the Preceptorate knew about Lbbp’s fondness for Rrth and its various life-forms, so the news that he was coming back with a new live specimen didn’t raise much interest. It was only when – as was required – he brought the specimen to the Life Science Hub to have it catalogued and registered that alarm bells began ringing. Literally.
They weren’t bells so much as high-pitched pinging sounds, but they did start almost as soon as Lbbp entered the building carrying the strange pink creature in his long thin arms. The first of Lbbp’s colleagues to notice the bundle thought it was a Fnrrn baby, which caused a small ripple of intrigue, as everyone knew Lbbp lived alone and had no children. (Fnrrns, like humans, come in male and female varieties and they get together to have children much as humans do. It’s actually quite a common way of doing things in the universe.)
It was only when they came to get a closer look at the infant – and perhaps ask where it had come from – that they noticed the pink skin, the wisps of hair, the curious protrusion in the middle of the face and those odd little flaps on the side of the head. Lbbp never found out which of his ‘friends’ had been first to press the alarm button (it was more of a paddle than a button, but it did the trick) but soon the usually serenely peaceful building was resounding to the high-pitched pinging noise and the whooshing and clanking of metallic doors and crystal windows sealing shut. The Life Science Hub had quarantined itself.
Uniformed security guards, who had they been humans back on Earth would probably have been wearing black but were instead dressed all in orange (Fnrrns find orange a very intimidating colour, whereas black, being the colour of night, strikes them as restful and calming), appeared from all corners of the building and surrounded Lbbp and his bundle.
- Don’t move!
- She’s harmless! shouted Lbbp.
- What is? said one guard.
- The thing he’s holding is, or so he says, said another. He called it a ‘she’.
- Doesn’t look like a she to me, said a third. Definitely an ‘it’.
- She’s a Ymn infant! She’s under my care! insisted Lbbp.
- Well, whatever it is, hand it over, said the biggest of the guards.
There was a pause.
- Who to? asked Lbbp. None of the guards had attempted to take the baby, or even come close enough to try.
- You. Grab it, said the big guard to one of the others.
- YOU grab it, I’m not touching it, came the reply.
- Or me, said another. It might be bitey or stingy or something.
The baby gurgled contentedly in Lbbp’s arms.
- We are not trained to handle dangerous alien specimens! pointed out the littlest of the guards.
- Or paid enough, observed the one next to him. The biggest guard decided to take charge.
- RIGHT, he said. You (pointing at Lbbp) come with us and bring that whatever-it-is with you. And the rest of you, get behind me if you’re scared.
Lbbp did as he was told, and so did the other guards, much to the biggest guard’s disgust.
After a brief and, Lbbp thought, unnecessarily rough medical examination which established that neither he nor the baby were carrying any dangerous contaminating agents, they were locked in a small waiting room while, Lbbp imagined, various authorities were informed and consulted as to what to do next.
Lbbp reached into his bag for a bottle of the gloopy yellow liquid. He fixed a small flexible nozzle over the cap and began to feed the baby.
- We’re in trouble now, he said. I only wonder how much . . .
The baby sucked away happily.
1.5
- You have a lot of explaining to do, Postulator Lbbp. Your actions have placed your academic future and possibly your liberty in jeopardy. Perhaps even the welfare of this whole institution.
Preceptor Shm’s voice was full of sadness and concern rather than anger. Lbbp had known and admired him since his days as a student at the Preceptorate. He was wise, fair, and utterly devoted both to the Preceptorate and to science and learning in general. The thought that Lbbp might have endangered the Preceptorate itself had not occurred to him before now; upon hearing the Preceptor’s words he lowered his eyes in shame.
Lbbp was seated on a small raised platform in the centre of the high-domed chamber; Shm, dressed in the long purple gown that many Preceptors had worn before him, was seated opposite him in the first rank of a raked bank of seats, arranged in semicircular rows. In these seats sat the Academic Council; the heads of all the various departments and Lycea of the Preceptorate. As Lbbp glanced up at them, they seemed to be having a frowning competition. He looked down at the floor once more as Shm went on:
- Still, you have always shown respect for the principles and tenets of science. It may be that you have your reasons for doing this. Whatever those reasons may be, it is time to share them with this council.
- Reasons! snorted another voice, from behind Shm. This was Compositor Vstj, who now rose to his feet.
- Postulator Lbbp, the purpose of this extraordinary meeting of the council was to read a list of the many violations and infractions of the Academic Code you have incurred by bringing this . . . thing onto the premises, but frankly we got up to twenty-six and stopped counting. Have y
ou quite lost your mind, Postulator Lbbp?
Compositor Vstj was also an old acquaintance of Lbbp’s. They had been students together at the Preceptorate many orbits previously. Lbbp had been something of a star pupil in his day; he’d won many prizes and awards and had graduated with one of the highest grades that the Science Lyceum had ever recorded. By contrast, Vstj’s academic career had been undistinguished, but he still succeeded in rising to the post of Compositor – a senior administrative position – after graduating. The fact that Vstj came from a well-connected family who had given many generous donations to the Preceptorate over the orbits – exceedingly generous in the time leading up to his appointment, in fact – had played no part whatsoever in his success in landing the job, and no one present in the council chamber would be so spiteful or petty as to claim otherwise. It hadn’t done him any harm, though. Vstj spoke on:
- Article 22.4 of the Academic Code explicitly prohibits contact with species number 676, otherwise known as ‘Ymns’. Now I’ll grant you that ‘contact’ is a rather vague and general term, Postulator, but I think most would understand it to include, say, abducting a Ymn infant and proposing to raise it as one’s own child, wouldn’t you agree?
Shm motioned to Vstj to be silent and then went on wearily:
- Postulator. This Preceptorate – this COUNCIL – is the most influential body in the whole nation of Mlml. Far more so than the government itself. The people understand that politicians will always be petty, shallow and emotional, but they look to us – the thinkers, the teachers – to be calm, rational, scientific. Time and time again, when elections are held, we see that the politicians that the people favour with their votes are precisely the ones they trust to follow our recommendations most faithfully and competently! Do you have any concept of the damage that could be done were it to be known that a senior member of this institution had done something so impetuous, so capricious, so – oh, what’s the word . . .?