Mud Bubble was as good as his word. Both Morgan and Al were granted access to the Knowledge Transfer Device in exchange for Morgan uploading at least two hours’ worth of her memories every day.
It was a good deal, but Morgan felt vaguely guilty. The Stone Seekers expected to learn all human culture, and all they got in return were memories from the point of view from a lower middle-class midwestern white girl. But at the same time, there was nothing she could do about that. Her point of view was the only one she had.
She and Al had been given a room and offered food and water during the Stone Seeker’s four mealtimes (one of which was in the middle of the night.) Stone Seekers were carnivores, and the fish and lobster-like creatures they served were bland, missing all salt and spice, but were offered both cooked and raw. Apparently, humans weren’t the only species who cooked their meals.
Most of Morgan’s time was spent in the room with the Knowledge Transfer Device.
For the first couple days, she probed into her own memories, focusing her attention three ways: survival skills, medicine, and tactics of war for Al. She drew knowledge from TV shows, websites, war movies, documentaries, books, and whatever classes she could think of from school that might be useful.
It was both less and more helpful than she could’ve imagined. For example, she replayed a TV episode of a medical drama on knee injuries, but the show’s actors had treated it with the help of an X-ray machine, which wasn’t something just laying around. She couldn’t do surgery like in the show, either. There were plenty of documentaries on Middle Ages warfare that had impressed Al. However, those focused on the effects and usage of trebuchets, but not how to make them.
At her request, Mud Bubble provided her with the Stone Seeker equivalent of paper, which were basically leathery strips of seaweed, and a finely pointed chalky rock to use as a pencil.
Stone Seekers made ‘books’ by sewing the strips together and then winding them around specialized sticks. The end result looked like roll of toilet paper. Still, she was able to record a couple useful things: Gardening tips, and the method of growing penicillin on moldy fruit, for example.
Al had no concept of a written language at all. Morgan got the impression he thought writing was a waste of time.
By the end of the first week, Morgan had grown used to using the Knowledge Transfer Device. She dived into the vast store of alien information. The Stone Seekers had the recorded memories of over thirty different species. There had to be something useful.
Only, the cultures she saw were so distant and… weird from her own human experiences, she could barely parse the information. Not to mention she didn’t understand the alien languages, and to trade a language with Mud Bubble would cost even more of her memories.
It was hard going. Morgan had always treated school seriously, but had never been big on studying for the sake of knowledge. So when she was feeling frustrated and overwhelmed at the end of the day, she pulled up memories of Lucas: the times they had played together as children, or the quiet moments they had spent in the village. Never the lonely years when he had abandoned her for cooler friends.
She missed him, and rewatching the most recent memories she saw how he looked at her in a way she hadn’t noticed the first time.
Mud Bubble walked into the room as she was re-examining the memory of his knee injury, trying to glean something she could look up in a medical show later. Mud Bubble offered nothing, only watched Morgan’s memory with his expressionless eyes.
With a sigh, Morgan lifted her hands from the foggy globe. “Did you need to use this?”
The Knowledge Device was always in high demand. As soon as she or Al left the room at the end of the day, a Stone Seeker would waddle in to take her place. The only reason she got so much time with it was because humans were still a novelty.
“No,” Mud Bubble answered. “I have come to speak with you of all you have seen within the globe.”
“Oh?” Crap. Had she been using it too much? Done something wrong?
“Walk with me,” Mud Bubble said.
That was fine. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, and she was ready for a break. She rose, every muscle in her legs protesting. She had been sitting on the cold ground for longer than she thought. Stone Seekers weren’t big on chairs.
Mud Bubble waited politely for her to get the feeling back in her legs, and for her to grab her bug-out bag where she’d stashed it in the corner. (She had gotten in the habit of taking it with her everywhere she went after returning to her room only to find all the contents inside had been shifted around as if someone had taken them out, examined them, and put them back in again.) She swung the backpack over one shoulder. Together, they walked out of the main tunnel, which she’d learned was called the ‘research hive’, and across twisting pathways of stone which had pools of differently colored water on either side.
“How have your studies progressed?” Mud Bubble asked.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste, and he honked out his version of a laugh.
“Yes, I have spent decades studying alien cultures, and there are certainly frustrations. We are all very different. I advise new students to be patient and to keep an open mind.” He looked down at her. “It has been reported that you have accessed our logs of other species’ journeys to this planet.”
“I know you said it was a waste of time, but I had to see it for myself.” The Stone Seekers had the knowledge of over thirty other species, but only three direct memories of other alien races being taken from their planet, including Morgan’s. True, she hadn’t had the other languages of the other aliens, but she hadn’t needed them. The events that brought them here were similar: People who had led normal lives until they were suddenly ripped away from their homes and placed in a confusing, frightening space-dome. Watching their memories had been almost as unsetting as watching her own.
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“I was hoping to… I don’t know,” she sighed. “I wanted to know if anyone had seen the Makers, I guess. Find a clue for why they brought us here.”
“For a species who call themselves Wise Man, you would think it would be obvious,” Stone Seeker said, “But you are young.”
“I… What? We don’t call ourselves—”
“Homo sapiens.” Mud Bubble surprised her by using the actual word, not the Stone Seeker equivalent. It was weird to hear Latin coming out of a crocodile mouth. “Or, ‘Wise Man’. The explanation was in one of your memories of an English class.”
“I…” Morgan shut her mouth. She suspected that her memories were being examined after she left the room at night, but hadn’t realized to what extent.
What else am I giving away?
“I have been studying alien cultures for decades,” Mud Bubble said, almost gently. “I am used to teasing out nuances.”
Morgan shook her head and tried to get the conversation back on track. “Until I met Al, I didn’t even know a second language. Just English. All of this is new to me.”
“Yes. Differing languages within the same species isn’t unheard of, but forgive me Morgan, your race does appear to be unusually fragmented.”
She shrugged. “Earth isn’t perfect, but I still want to go back.”
“That,” Mud Bubble said, “would be most unwise.”
“Why?”
He blinked once, long and slow, as if she were being a slow student. “Did you not see the memories of journey? All of us were saved from dying worlds.”
Surprise had her stumbling in place. He kept moving on, unconcerned, and she had to hurry to catch up.
“What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
“It was the same with our people. By the time the powers of the Knowledge Transfer Device were discovered, the first generation of Stone Seekers to be transplanted here had died out. We have no direct memory, but we do have records. Plague had been sweeping across our home world. Entire colonies, twenty times the number of this,” Mud Bubble swept his multi-jointed arm around to indicate the active marketplace, the families and workers bustling back and forth, “were dying. The Makers took one of the remaining colonies untouched by the sickness to bring to this world. You have accessed the other memories of the Jadarts and the—” He made a mush of noise that Morgan’s human ears refused to parse. “Did you not see the comet in the sky?”
“Yes, they were worshiping it.”
“They were begging it not to fall like the others before it. They knew it would doom their world. I have their language.”
“But…” Oh God. Emma. Her father… “But Earth isn’t in trouble. There are more than seven billion people on our planet. We’re not about to go extinct. We’re fine.”
“Really?” he asked and she got the impression she would have raised his eyebrows if he had any. “Do you not remember your science class on global warming? Do your own fragmented countries not wage constant wars? Does your own father not preach that the collapse is coming?”
Chastened, she looked away.
“The Makers surely saw what we have seen, Mud Bubble continued. “Learning of your advanced medicine and how to grow food is both productive and right. Morgan, you must accept that not only were you were saved, but now, there may not be anything to go back to.”
Grief, anger and frustration welled up in her. She wanted to scream at him. She looked into those alien eyes. “If something was going to happen, I should be there, with my family.”
“That would help no one.” Mud Bubble stopped and Morgan looked around, realizing they had walked all the way back to the main entrance pool to the city. They were far from the only ones. All the councilors had gathered together at the lip of the pool. Their arrival had caught the attention of others in the city. Stone Seekers who had been working and shopping in the vast marketplace peeled off to gather in a growing crowd. Excited honks and clicks bounced off of walls, and filled the air.
“What’s going on?” Morgan asked.
Mud Bubble wore a look of satisfaction. “We are blessed with a visit.”
That was the first time anyone had said the word blessed. Weird. The Stone Seekers, and Mud Bubble in particular, were such a logical type of people with no religion she’d seen so far.
Then it hit her what Mud Bubble meant. The crowd of Stone Seekers was gathering around the pool in the same way they had when she and Al had arrived. Were they were about to meet another new species?
“Excuse me, I must take my place among the council.” With that, Mud Bubble began pushing his way through the crowd. Seeing the blue stone of rank in his necklace, they gave way.
Even as an honored guest, Morgan didn’t receive the same sort of treatment. She stood on her toes and looked around. In a mass of gray bodies, Al’s colorful feathers made him easy to spot. He stood not far away, looking as confused as Morgan felt.
“Looks like we won’t be the only aliens here anymore,” she said, once she pushed her way towards him.
He acknowledged her with a bob of his head, his expression turning sour. “We will probably get less time on the Knowledge Transfer Device.”
Damn. She hadn’t even thought of that.
He glanced at her. “Do you think it could be more of your people, come looking for you?”
Morgan blinked. She hadn’t even considered that. “I don’t think it’s likely, but… maybe?”
She looked at the calm waters of the pool with hungry eyes. Abruptly, she wanted to see Lucas again so badly that it hurt. And Timberly and Leah. Hell, she might even give Colton a hug.
But wouldn’t Mud Bubble have mentioned if their new visitor was another human?
“I don’t think it’ll be another human. It seems like they value the memories of new species.” Her lips twisted in a smile. “I’m old news.”
Al tilted his head nearly sideways as if he were pointing an ear toward the high stone ceiling.
“What is it?” Morgan asked.
“I can hear yelling, coming from above.” He went silent for a few seconds, straining to listen. Morgan didn’t know how he could hear anything over the racket of the crowd. After a moment, he shook his head. “I can’t tell what they’re saying.”
She looked around the gathering crowd. News was spreading, and more Stone Seekers were gathering to get a first glimpse of the new visitors. Family and friends clicked greetings at each other in a relaxed, holiday feel. The waters of the entrance pool remained calm. Nothing suggested that anything was wrong.
Still, a bad feeling crept up her spine. The same quiet, persistent sense of doom she got back when she believed her father’s rants about the end of days, and when she saw Colton and the rest burning their seasoned lumber.
Morgan backed a step, her shoulders brushed the soft belly of a Stone Seeker. He clicked in annoyance at her. She murmured an apology, though he wouldn’t be able to understand her. The crowd was thick, all standing close.
“I don’t like this,” she said to Al.
He glanced at her, then to the pool. “My sisters would be sharpening their claws right now.”
She supposed that was a Yellow Crest saying, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Morgan swung her bug-out bag around and dug inside until she found her trusty multi tool. Her box cutter, she always kept tied to her ankle using a length of improvised shoelace.
A quiet hush fell over the assembled crowd. The pool of water.
The head that broke the water’s surface most definitely wasn’t human. Its fur was plastered to wet skin and its dog-like snout gasped for a breath of air.
“Oh, crap.” Morgan’s words were lost over Al’s outcry.
It was a wolf.