How did that old poem go?
'In a dust dingy office where a fetid ray of sunlight feebly reaches' - it often came to mind during his working week. The bush was nothing like that.
The first day of a camping trip set the pace, he felt. All the previous week he’d been looking forward to this day so there would be nothing worse than to have a bad first day. However with these thoughts sitting just below his consciousness the feeling of unease hadn’t relented all day, a bit like a headache that can't make up its mind if it wants to be a full-blown headache or just go away as it should.
Try as he might Mike could not put his finger on it as to whether it was an internal feeling directed toward his car, his gear or himself. After all, if something went wrong with himself or the car it could be serious as there wasn’t any phone reception here, getting help would take quite a while. He had an 'EPIRB', a personal beacon that would send a signal out to a satellite that would summon the emergency services if he pressed the '911' button. It was a comfort to have such a thing but it didn’t change reality greatly, a big problem could kill him personal satellite beacon or not, it just meant they’d find his dead body quicker.
The only problem was the lack of an obvious problem and he rather liked that thought, tickling as it did the analytic engineer in him. He couldn't define the source of his unease and that was so annoying for an engineer.
If it was his gear he was less worried as he had done this trip so many times and to far less hospitable places such that forgetting something, or having something break was not a great problem. His mantra was 'you make do', something the kiddies of today with their iPods, iCameras and iBrains would need careful explaining to them before it sunk in.
The personal side with his health was his biggest worry though. His blood pressure and cholesterol were constant problems for his doctor to nag him about and with every visit a check revealed the depressingly same results so a number of promises were made, and every time they lasted only until he arrived home. He knew one day that his blood pressure would kill him. 'If he was lucky' he often added to that gloomy thought. The last thing he wanted was to be disabled and trapped in a shell of his self, unable to do anything, just waiting for the end.
As the sun set Mike's dinner slowly cooked in the camp oven sitting on hot coals from the fire. Just the same way as most nights, the camp oven was a thing of great pleasure and each time he looked at it he felt the pleasure. Tonight it was a hearty beef stew complete with vegetables but this time a nice Turkish bread to scoop up and clean the plate with. This was a favorite meal, something like this in its many variations he had most nights when he was out camping.
Eating slowly, enjoying the fire, listening to the sound of the stream and the fading light after a happy day was a luxury Mike did not intend to waste so it was full-dark by the time he finished. As he had been sitting with dinner on his lap looking over the fire into the darkness the feeling of unease had grown and grown so that now with dinner over the feeling of unease was almost palpable.
Imagination is a terrible thing Mike knew and he also knew there was nothing in the darkness that was not there in the light so it came as a great surprise when a voice called, "Hello the camp, permission to approach," completely without warning or sign of approach. That someone could get so close without making a noise was disturbing and also that there was no tell tale sign of a light or torch. No car. No motorbike. As he well knew, it was next to impossible to walk silently in the bush yet this person had done it.
From the direction of the voice, the stranger must have been standing in the dark completely silently and obviously watching him. The hairs rose on the back of Mike's neck.
"Approach if you are friendly, blue eyed, long legged and blond," Mike shouted back in a drawn out drawl trying very hard to sound untroubled and at ease with whatever might be thrown at him in the next few minutes. For the first time he heard the sound of feet moving through the undergrowth, the sound of a stick breaking, a rasp as a branch of a shrub was brushed. How had the stranger approached so quietly yet only now made noise in the dark?
Mike was feeling that a little explaining was going to be necessary and that the questions were going to increase. He'd never had someone walk into camp before.
His first thought was that the stranger was a collection of normal things. Normal height about five ten or eleven tall, medium build, middle (normal) age, dressed in casual pants and an obviously rugged yet not flashy or overly new pair of boots. The strangers face was most odd of all; completely forgettable and utterly normal. Nothing special anywhere. The hair was not long or short and not of any real color, sort of dishwater blond. The eyes were the give-away however. As the stranger approached the fire, the eyes took on a twinkle of light amusement and possibly of expectation almost as if the owner of those eyes knew him.
Curious thought Mike, I wonder if he has been watching me, rude bugger if he has.
"Good night for a fire and perhaps a talk. If you'll allow me to join you I can promise you an interesting night," said the stranger.
"Not a bad offer," said Mike, "But I only have one chair and the ground is a little hard in places." Also his paranoia kicked in; sometimes 'interesting' could be painful and should never be taken for granted.
The stranger put out his hand and said, "I don't really have a name but you can call me 'Resident'," he said.
Now that was truly odd but not to be put off and always urbane, "Mike," he responded with then a short sharp handshake finished the introductions but the questions kept coming; 'Resident what' thought Mike.
There were plenty of options; resident nasty and evil or perhaps resident of a nut farm to be out here without a torch. Perhaps best to keep those thoughts to himself. Nutters can get violent was Mike's next thought. Then, often as strong as a demented gorilla, was his next after that.
The stranger looked around for a moment then moved over to the pile of logs stacked near the fire. Casually he toed one of the larger logs out then sat on it, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees looking into the fire. "If you don't mind I'll sit on this one over here and make myself comfortable for a while."
Watching this strange 'Resident' sitting on a log, leaning toward the camp fire, Mike instantly felt more at ease yet it was curious to see just how quickly the stranger flopped down and accepted he would be welcome.
He thought about that for a while. There was a kind of a brotherhood between those who fire-stared that the city folk would never know, perhaps that was it.
"So what brings you out in the bush on a night like this," Mike tried with in his first effort to find out a little more about this odd named stranger.
The stranger looked up at Mike and the eyes and the skin around them stretched in the hint of a smile.
---oOo---
Friendships
"Well Mike, I could tell you everything but you wouldn’t believe me would you? There are only so many new things a person can believe before he starts to doubt either the teller or himself and starts to wonder just who is the crazy one. After all Mike, nutters are everywhere aren't they?"
Before Mike could stop himself, "You’re dead right there," flew out of his mouth before he could control it. Resident had hit that perfectly, he’d said just what he'd been thinking.
At this statement Mike was instantly on guard as the stranger had sensed his thoughts nicely, with an obvious similarity in thought happening between them. He was thinking this was a bit too easy, a bit too quick.
He was now hoping it was going to be a good night and with luck this was not some good-old-boy fool lost and looking for food or a place to sleep. He didn't look like that. He looked odd, certainly, but not odd-nasty or odd-needy.
Maybe it would be interesting after all.
He knew he was suspicious and careful, it was the only way to be, yet here in the remote bush on a dark night looking up at the stars it felt even more odd this was happening.
"Try me," said Mike slowly, relaxed, letti
ng the words fall past without any real compulsion in them. Then, with a smile added, "I love a good story and we’ve got a little time till the missus and kids get home from the supermarket and the pizza shop with dinner."
That fell flat. Resident didn't show any hint of a smile or recognize the humor in what Mike said.
Resident too seemed content to let the evening pass slowly. There was a silence that neither of them felt inclined to fill with noise.
Resident finally asked, "Mike, to start off would you mind if my companion joins me. He's been here all day and I hope you will pardon him but he has been watching you. He’s shy. He wanted to know if you were friendly or not. If he thought you were not friendly I would not be here now, we would have left you alone."
Mike was annoyed, "Spying on me was he," was his instant come back to which he got a response completely without any hint of guilt.
"Yes he was, but if you hear me out and let him approach you'll understand. After a time you may forgive us when you understand. It was not his intention to offend and when you meet him you'll see that is not his way," offered the stranger with a slight hint of a smile.
There was a joke here Mike suspected, a joke he didn’t get. However he was ready for a dash to the tent to grab the rifle then see this stranger and his companion off with extreme prejudice if things went bad.
He did a quick calculation of the strangers size and an estimation of how long it would take to bury the body if push came to shove, but he wondered if it would be worth all the effort. Digging was too much like hard work in burying bullet holed leaking messy nitwit bodies in the bush. It’d be better to drag them a few hundred yards into the bush for the feral dogs and whatever else did the garbage disposal round here. After a few years only a few easily buried bones would remain.
"OK," said Mike, "drag your lurking mate in and we'll have a little chat." He wasn’t best pleased at the thought of being spied on.
The stranger raised his left arm off his knee then moved it out a little to just beside his body with his palm downward as if he was putting his hand on the back of a favorite dog, or so it seemed.
After only a few seconds and without any noise whatsoever the sleekest and most formidably large, huge, jet black panther strolled out of the dark. He moved under the strangers hand and leaned against his knee without taking his eyes off him for a second. Not even blinking.
The stare said, 'I can see you and I'm ready for anything you might like to try.' Mike absolutely believed it.
It was not a hell of a lot smaller than a Shetland pony his first thought was, but in reality he knew it was nowhere that size. It was just that it was, well, damn large. Bigger than a great Dane with about four times the body mass he guessed. It also looked smart, really smart, looking like it was analyzing him, maybe counting his racing heartbeats.
"Well, I bet you didn't pick him up from 'Pets Paradise' then," said Mike, "I also bet you don't see one of those every day either."
"I do," said the stranger with a matter of fact voice. "He is my life companion and you won't find a better friend anywhere. He most certainly is not a pet. He is his own being as it happens."
Using the word 'being' surprised him as it sounded out of place.
Resident smiled as he said that, maybe amused at using the word 'being' for what looked like a panther. "He has been with me for many years. He travels everywhere with me. We mesh together and it is his choice as much as mine. If you were to call him 'Companion' he will understand and pay attention to you. However be warned, he is not stupid. He is thoroughly civilized but he can react very quickly if he is mistreated. Treat him as an equal and you will be friends. In fact, in these woods a friend like Companion can help. I promise you'll have no trouble from bears or wild dogs here and if there were any dangerous animals he is capable of defeating them. You may sleep very soundly and safely with Companion. You might have noticed that there were no dogs howling in the night like there were on other nights here."
Mike's eyes were bulging and unwavering, fixed on the companion. "Does that mean you've been watching me before to know about the other nights?"
"Yes, and no," said the stranger. "We became aware of you when we were investigating these mountains. You looked like a possible contact for us. We seek someone we can talk to, to know how we are assimilating and discuss issues we face. We looked at you only briefly to sense if you were friendly. After all, if we stay for any length of time you sense us just as you did last night and today. We knew you sensed us. I was not here but Companion knew you sensed him. We can't remain hidden from you, our presence, the way we influence those around us is too great to hide."
Mike thought about that. There were plenty of hints leading to impossible conclusions.
"Mike," Resident said getting his attention again, distracting him, "Companion enjoys running in your forest, often by himself. He likes the wilderness much as you do, so you two are not different in that way. Who would not enjoy this whole area and the wild dogs are amusing for him to run with. He doesn't hurt them, he enjoys them every now and then. He needs this time just as you do. The wild dogs have come to accept him almost as a plaything," said the stranger.
"Well, I'd have to say he is a handsome looking gentleman," said Mike truthfully. "But I presume you and he have eaten for the night and that I'm not on his menu?"
In Mike's life he had found that confronting his fears and being up front and honest was the best way especially when it was put in such a way as to cause least offense, to maybe offer just a little dry humor. The only problem was that the rifle whilst only being ten yards away might as well have been on the other side of the planet. Companion looked like he could reach the speed of sound quicker than he could get to his feet and the possibility of actually using the rifle looked well below nil.
Then again, after replaying the strangers words perhaps the rifle was not necessary. The two of them looked quite nonthreatening and the turn of events was definitely looking up. It looked like an interesting night was going to be had as promised.
"I promise you some things Mike," said Resident. "Firstly we will leave if you want us to and we won't return, however I also promise you that you will never forgive yourself for missing this opportunity. I promise if you treat Companion well you'll be rewarded with a friendship of the kind you would not have believed possible. You won't need your rifle and I can also promise it would not affect Companion other than perhaps making him annoyed at the noise. He does not like noise."
It was completely obvious now. The impossible had become the most likely.
"You are not from around here are you," said Mike slowly and he fully agreed with Companions intolerance to noise. The line from the poem 'the gutter children fighting with their language uninviting' came unbidden into his mind yet again. Then he mentally added, 'fiendish rattle' when he thought about the city noises where he worked.
It was completely obvious these two were as odd as it gets yet the possibility that they were nutters was reducing. That then left the possibility too huge to believe that was presenting itself.
The next thought was that perhaps if these two were as he suspected there might be some problem if he told his tale to others and Resident might not like that.
Resident had been watching him, seeing the surprise cross his face to be replaced with a look of wonder then concern.
"We didn't think it would take you long," said the stranger. "We have given you clues to help. There is no point in denying it Mike, we are most certainly from a long way off. So far in fact that you would find it difficult to believe. In reality Mike, sometimes a long ways off is just like coming from over there, because a long way off can sometimes be closer than you think."
Mike had to ask, "So you're not going to abduct me for medical experiment to learn all about us are you?" It seemed silly to ask. Science fiction and plenty of loons talked about alien abduction and what they learned from their victims, releasing them years later. He had no idea why they would be release
d either.
Resident didn't smile, didn't react much to that. "No. We use a television and the internet to learn all we need and more. It is chaotic, but yours is a chaotic race. Access to information is not a problem for us, you make it easy."
Ah, Mike thought, maybe that was why alien abduction science fiction was finished. Why go to the bother when the internet, which was the source of all information, was so readily available.
He wondered for a moment, who had Resident signed up with to get the internet? His own provider left a lot to be desired and the thought of Resident having his data yarded, limited, dropouts and all those cursed advertisements made him smile for a moment.
---oOo---
Endless Possibilities
One thing worried him. “You look very like us but Companion doesn’t, that seems odd. Why the shape?”
He’d given up disbelieving, they were aliens.
Resident nodded, “Your technology is able to print body parts now. In centuries your technology will be able to print a full body. Some time after that you will be able to transfer a consciousness. There is nothing special about me having this body.” Then after a few moments, “Alternatively we could grow a body from DNA but that runs other risks and takes time.”
Resident placed a hand on Companion. “He comes from a race of warriors who matured through the millennia to become friends, more than friends, life companions. They like company. When young they explore the galaxy, travel, seek adventure. As they age they form life bonds with compatible others. I am his Companion. He chose the body shape as it amuses and pleases him by reminding him of his race heritage. There are other reasons, mainly that it is a shape easily understood by you, and the assumptions you make based on it.”
He’d not thought of that. He knew 3D printers were common now and he’d heard of printing with organic substances to make body parts. It was almost a let down.
The Camper_First Contact and the Planet Tamer Page 2