Dylan rested his hands on his hips and stared at her. “Well, I guess we could all do with a break. Sydney, ten minutes. No more.”
“Just remember your promise to bring me back once our mission’s done,” she said.
The break, in tight, overheated spacesuits, made things worse. The team groaned when they stood. Legs and backs cramped, but the suits made it impossible to properly stretch without falling over. The four huddled, holding each other’s shoulders, helping each other stretch legs and twist out backaches.
“We good now?” Dylan asked.
“The tip of my nose itches,” Sara said.
“Goddamn, I hate that,” Dylan said. “Try not to think about it. What say, I tell you about back home in Texas to take your mind off things?”
“I’d like that,” Sara said.
He related stories from his younger years as they worked their way upstream, some humorous, some slightly tall. When he got to explaining how he was mending a fence when Roy called the first time about the Quadriga, a blurry shape darted across the water ahead. A sizable, blurry shape. Dylan held up a hand. “You guys saw that?”
“Yep,” Dr. Skye said. “I caught it on video.” She replayed the recording, sharing the feed with the others.
#
“What is that?” Ji-min asked. So much larger than me. Powerful, nimble. She rested her hands on her knee. “It looks almost like an orangutan.”
“Yeah. One on a starvation diet,” Dylan said.
“Slick word choice.” Sara jabbed him in the arm.
Dylan turned to Ji-min but averted his eyes. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”
“That was a long time ago,” Ji-min said. “A different life. Anyhow, you’re not wrong. It’s frail and rather tall. Eight or nine feet, maybe?”
Dr. Skye switched off color correction, scanning the area ahead in true light and infrared. “I have a heat signature twenty meters ahead to the left of the creek. It’s watching us.”
“Let’s proceed,” Dylan said. “Slowly.”
They trudged up the rocky waterway, one step at a time, observing the creature’s reaction. When they closed half the distance, it rose from its crouch.
“Stop,” Dr. Skye said. She turned toward the heat signature, held both hands up, palms out, and said over a speaker rigged to her suit, “Hello.” She stood still, awaiting a response, her heart pounding in her ears. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The creature stood erect and stepped into the stream, facing them.
“This is incredible,” Ji-min said.
“Yes, it is,” Dr. Skye said.
“That’s not what I mean. I see a halo. If it means the same as for humans, the creature is experiencing a mix of fear and curiosity.”
“A reasonable response based on first principles of intelligence,” Dr. Skye said.
“Well,” Dylan said, “Ji-min, let it know we don’t mean it harm.”
“How, exactly?” she asked. “I can see its feelings, not speak its language. If it has one.” She sighed, then stepped toward the creature. The patterns and colors Ji-min saw swirling around it shifted. “It’s ready to run. The rest of you, stay here.” She crouched down and, with both palms in full view, advanced while making soothing sounds. Soothing, at least, to a human ear. That isn’t working. She changed the sound from a cooing to more of a purring as she used her gift to find a noise calming to the alien. When she was almost close enough to touch it, she sat down in the creek and ran her hands through the babbling water.
The creature sat as well.
She pointed at herself and said, “Ji-min.”
The creature stared back.
“Ji-min. Friend.” She cupped her hands, scooped water, and made an offering motion.
The creature smashed plate-sized hands down, spraying her thoroughly, and made aggressive noises.
She lowered her torso in a bowing gesture until her helmet was partially submerged in the flowing creek.
The creature calmed.
She raised her posture, keeping her eyes low. “Ji-min. Friend.” She pounded her chest rather than point this time, then risked a glance at the massive, sinewy beast. The creature’s aura shifted. Understanding. Curiosity. She ran her fingers through the stream. “Water.”
“Ugva,” the creature said. The sharp, precise aura of water formed around its head.
“Ugva,” Ji-min said. She picked up a rock. “Stone.”
“Ga,” it said. He said. His distinctly male biology was on display.
“Ga,” Ji-min said. “Ga.”
Their conversation continued for the better part of an hour. Ji-min’s ability to sense the creature’s feelings and directly comprehend spoken word fast-tracked inter-species comprehension that might otherwise have taken weeks and gone horribly wrong. She gestured at the three other astronauts, resting on twisting tree trunks at a respectful distance. “Friend,” she told the creature. “Garrat. Friend.”
“Garrat,” the creature said. “Fruund.”
“Garrat k’gade?” she asked.
“Garrat k’gade,” the creature said, its breaths becoming rapid and shallow.
Over coms, Ji-min said, “Join us. Walk slowly, slightly bowed. Avoid eye contact.”
The team did so.
“Can you ask it about the caves?” Dylan asked.
“No. We haven’t worked out that much vocabulary. I think it would be easiest to find a cave first, then talk about it.”
“That should be easy enough,” Dylan said. “We’re not too far from the base of the mountain, and the thing’s chock full of them. Will it go with us?”
“He,” Ji-min said. “Yes, I think he will. He’s extremely curious about us.”
“Does he have a name?” Dylan asked.
“Not that I’ve been able to discover. I don’t know if they lack that concept, or if I haven’t found the right way to talk about it.”
“Well, we gotta call him something. Garrat means friend?”
Ji-min nodded.
“Let’s call him Garrat, then. For now, at least.”
Ji min nodded then turned to the creature. “K’gade garrat Ji-min?”
“K’gade,” he said. “K’gade Ji-min.”
“I think that means you’re on point,” Dylan said. “Lead on.”
#
Tangles of vines gave way to trees growing in twisting, serpentine patterns, often dipping into the meandering waterway, at times forming a natural dam. Scaly creatures darted about in the clear pools, scampering when the group passed by. Their alien companion stepped easily through and around the overgrowth, frequently pausing for the humans to catch up. The terrain grew steeper, and the creek became a gentle cascade. A placid fizzle reached their ears, like a spring drizzle settling on a tranquil pond. A massive, fallen log, taller than Dylan, blocked the water, a serene sheet of liquid sapphire drifting from above, splashing at their feet.
“It’s beautiful,” Sara said. She touched the mist with her gloved hand.
“As long as you don’t turn off Chad’s algorithm,” Dylan said. “To human eyes, it looks like day-old coffee.”
Sara laughed. “So it does. I prefer Chad’s version of reality.”
“My legs are killing me,” Ji-min said. “How are we supposed to climb that thing?”
“We can’t well go around,” Dylan said. “At least, not without a major detour.”
Garrat rolled over the log, submerging his legs in the water above. He reached his lanky arm down to Ji-min, long, thin fingers spread wide. She placed her wrist in his palm. With a jerk, he lifted her over the obstacle, splashing her headlong into the pooled water above.
She stood, faced him, and bowed. “Thank you,” she said.
The alien helped Dr. Skye, Sara, and finally Dylan past the waterfall.
“That was easier than I expected,” Ji-min said, rubbing her legs through the thick suit. “The water feels relaxing.” She leaned back and spread her arms and legs. Thanks to the suit’s weight, she promptly san
k to the bottom.
“Ji-min!” Dylan said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Ji-min answered over coms. “It’s nice-”
Garrat charged at her, wrapped his arm around her back, and pulled her up.
She smiled at him. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He made an odd expression then, seemingly satisfied, released her.
They were near the mountain. The slope was steep, the stream bed rocky, and the footing unsure. The plants lining the banks were a little less dense and not quite as tall, improving visibility. They picked their way upward. The creek rounded a bend, then another. They scrambled over boulders, Garrat helping with the largest ones, and continued on. Around a final turn, there it was. The water’s source. A meter-tall opening in the mountain. A cave.
Ji-min sat and Garrat knelt next to her. She pointed at the opening. “Cave,” she said.
“B’tha,” Garrat replied. He pointed at it. “B’tha.”
“Ji-min seeks b’tha,” she said. “Special b’tha.” She tried to scratch her head, but the helmet blocked her motion. “There are so many caves here, how can we explain which one we want? It’s pulsing UV light. Do you think he can see that?”
“I doubt it,” Dr. Skye said. “Their vision is likely adapted to the infrared and far-red spectrum.” She reached into a belt pouch and extracted a small, metal cylinder. “But we can find out.” She clicked one end of the device and a deep purple light emitted from the other end. “It’s a UV flashlight to detect fluorescence in my samples.” She flashed the beam across the ground in front of Garrat.
He stared at the curious device in her hand but seemed oblivious to the light it projected on the ground.
“As I thought,” Dr. Skye said. She started putting away the light, but her wet, gloved hand fumbled the instrument, dropping it into the water.
Garrat tensed, his eyes focused on a spot under the water’s surface.
“He’s terrified,” Ji-min said. She made the purring sound she knew soothed him. “It’s OK. Garrat safe.”
Sara pointed at the spot he was focused on. “Look, something’s fluorescing green.”
“Not green,” Dr. Skye said. “It’s near-infrared, made green for our benefit.”
“The UV light’s causing a rock to glow?” Dylan asked.
Dr. Skye nodded.
“Then the UV from the cave we’re searching for might do exactly the same,” he said.
“Turn off the light,” Ji-min said.
Dr. Skye retrieved it and shut it off.
The alien’s tension eased when the light ended. Still apprehensive, he pointed at the spot and said, “Baku. Baku.”
“Taboo,” Ji-min said.
“Powerful ultraviolet would be as harmful to them as it is to us. His species may associate that fluorescence with danger,” Dylan said. “Ask him where it is.”
Ji-min sat next to Garrat and used their small, shared vocabulary and her new word, baku, to explain they wanted the location of the cave. He offered to bring them to other caves, any other caves, but didn’t entertain the notion of visiting the baku cave. The more Ji-min pressed, the more he resisted.
“Is there someone we can ask for permission?” Sara asked. “A shaman? An elder?”
After some time, Ji-min managed to formulate the question. “There are elders we can appeal to,” she said, translating the reply.
“Great,” Sara said. “Ask him to take us to his leader.”
Dylan burst out laughing.
Dr. Skye snickered, then laughed out loud, too.
“Oh Lord,” Sara said. “Did I really just say that?”
#
The terrain was rugged by human standards, but the journey to Garrat’s village was not far. A steep slope covered in fern-like plants led to a broad ledge where fifteen of his kind went about their business. Some worked vegetation into objects, baskets or perhaps traps. Others seemed to converse. Two children wrestled near a cave at the back of the clearing. When the humans came into view, the villagers sprang into action. The larger ones grabbed pointy sticks while others snatched the nearest rock. A group of females ushered the children into the cave.
“I see the reaction you would expect,” Ji-min said. “Excitement, concern bordering on panic. I don’t sense outright hostility.”
Garrat spoke a few words to Ji-min then walked toward the camp.
“Wait here,” Ji-min said.
The humans watched Garrat talk to the tall, spear-clad members of his species. They seemed to relax but didn’t put down their weapons. Others emerged, frail and with streaks of turquoise in their fur. They spoke among themselves at length.
“How long do you think it takes to explain he encountered ET and we mean no harm?” Sara asked.
“If they’re really smart,” Chad said over coms from orbit, “they’ll send you packing. On Earth, it rarely went well for the natives who encountered the technologically advanced.”
“We don’t mean them harm,” Dylan said.
“Yeah, but they can’t possibly know that. Even if we don’t intend harm, we’ll still interfere with their culture in ways that are hard to predict.”
“We’ll do our best to minimize our impact on them,” Sara said. “But we must complete our mission.”
“Hey, I’m just playing devil’s advocate here,” Chad said. “You know I want to find that tech.”
Garrat returned to the humans. “Ji-min k’gade. Huuuuman k’gade.” He led them to the center of the plateau where the villagers formed a semi-circle around them. The spears were put away, but everyone remained tense.
A female with traces of turquoise in her hair stepped forward, approaching Ji-min, holding one of the flying hedgehog creatures with wings removed and its belly pried open. “Kz’ge,” she said.
“She wants me to eat,” Ji-min said. She spoke a smattering of broken words to the woman.
The elder withdrew her offering with an expression that the humans came to understand as puzzlement.
Ji-min tapped her helmet and spoke a few more words.
The woman didn’t understand.
Ji-min faced the elder but sidled over to a younger alien who was weaving plant fibers together. “Muo ‘ka? What’s this?” Ji-min asked.
The elder stared at her for a moment then grabbed the craft from the younger alien. She demonstrated the technique to Ji-min.
Ji-min tentatively pinched a strand and copied the motion. It was difficult, but the suit’s thin gloves relayed the sensation of touch to her fingers. After a few attempts, she succeeded. A pale-yellow aura surrounded the alien. Satisfaction. The two worked the craft together for a time.
“Ji-min k’gade,” the woman declared. “Huuuuman ‘tlal k’gade.”
The village relaxed, and the young were allowed to return. They gathered around the strangely clothed humans, gawking, patting, pinching, and sniffing. A male, fur almost entirely turquoise with streaks of ruby red, hobbled out from the cave. The village stopped its activity, all eyes focused on him. The elder approached the humans, resting on his straight, smooth staff when he reached them. “Huuuuman,” he said. He studied the crew, snorted once, then trudged to a pile of roughly-hewn stones arranged like a chair. The elder stared at the visitors once again, then sat. Life returned to what it had been before he emerged. Not normal. Energized. Excited.
Sara approached Ji-min. “Ask our friend about the taboo cave.”
“We should take time to gain their trust,” Dr. Skye said.
“That could take weeks,” Sara said. “Last we checked, Earth is dying. If they won’t help us, we’ll search on our own. The jungle’s so dense it might take us days and who knows what dangers lurk, but their help is optional.”
“All right,” Ji-min said. “I don’t know how Garrat will react, or how they’ll react to him if he broaches the subject.” She approached Garrat and stood before him, eyes lowered, slightly bowed and spoke a few words in his language.
He tensed.
He ambled to the native who showed Ji-min their crafting technique, shoulders slumped and feet dragging. The older female ignored him at first but then spoke.
“She’s not having it,” Ji-min said. “She has a defiant aura.”
Garrat persisted.
“She’s becoming amused,” Ji-min said. “Garrat is worried.”
Despite his apprehension, Garrat approached the eldest man, the one on the rough stone chair.
“Not good,” Ji-min said.
The elder whacked Garrat on the shoulder with his staff. Two of the strongest tribe members, ones who earlier carried spears, rushed forward and pummeled him mercilessly.
He screamed, rolled along the ground, and scampered into the jungle, heading downhill, back toward the water.
“Oh God,” Sara said. “What have we done?”
#
Ji-min followed Garrat into the jungle. “Wait in the village,” she told the humans. She found him huddled behind a tangle of thick trees, an aura of anger and embarrassment floating in the air. She crouched next to him. “Ji-min sorry.” His aura didn’t change. She tried to string together, “Thank you for your help, you are a friend” in his language. His aura became hazy, the strength of his feelings subsiding. “Ji-min n’k’gade? Ji-min leave?”
Garrat touched Ji-min’s shoulder. “I show you taboo,” he said in his language. “I hate u’uatu”.
U’uatu. Chieftain, probably. Ji-min touched his shoulder in return. “Thank you.” Over coms, she called, “Garrat agreed to show us the cave.”
“Should we come to you?” Dylan asked. “Everyone here is still interested in us. It’ll look strange if we up and leave.”
“Hmm. Why don’t you tell them G’dak abdi?” Ji-min asked. “That’s the closest to goodbye I can come up with. Keep your bodies low to the ground, avoid eye contact, and retreat toward the creek.”
The team did as she suggested. The villagers followed them for a time, but the crowd thinned as they retreated further into the jungle. Before reaching the water, the last natives, a pair of adolescents, returned home.
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