Day 1
They are seated around a table. Four of them, in a white room, with white chairs, at a white table. The only thing that is not white is the gray pattern on the table. The only girl in the room is staring at it.
At the head of the table sits general McDonavan, head of the government agency for unusual developments. These three children are his most unusual and frustrating development yet.
“I’m asking one last time,” he says, “autism has been gone for almost two hundred years. We have combed through the ancient files. We found the words “autism” and “retard” to describe your condition. We think it may be caused by vaccines or loud noises, or at least that’s what we found in the ancient files. Vaccines have been proven to be safe, but one never knows. What are your symptoms? What was your early life like?”
“It is not logical for me to answer your question,” the child in blue scrubs says. He is tall, with brown eyes and black hair. He has said this for the last several questions.
“Why don’t you ask our parents?” the child in red scrubs says, “also, why did you give us different scrubs? It is inefficient.” He has also said this for the last several questions.
“This pattern does not make sense,” the girl in yellow scrubs says, “the loop should go through the line, not away from it.” She has said this for the last several questions as well.
General McDonavan groans and runs his fingers through his hair.
“Okay, starting with you, Spock,” he says to the child in blue scrubs, “I can do anything to you and no one would care. So, rethink your logic. It is in your best interest to answer my questions.”
“The data is inconclusive on that,” the child in blue says, “also, it’s cute that you primitively try to insult me with a 1960s TV character’s name. Try to hurt us- you’ll find out what happens.”
“Oh, I know what would happen,” McDonavan says, “a big, fat, nothing.”
Spock shrugs. “If you are sure that the logic supports your side,” he says, “try it.”
“Moving on to you, Isaac,” McDonavan says, “We have interrogated your parents. We will be doing biological testing on you if you will not cooperate.”
Isaac looks at him sadly. “I wish I could tell you,” he says, “you are my friend, but truth is my greater friend.”
McDonavan is suppressing a scream. “We’re Isaac Newton, now, are we?” he says, sarcastically.
“No. There are several significant differences between a six-hundred-year-old dead person and a living human,” Isaac says, “I thought you had that figured out.”
McDonavan looks at him. “I was being sarcastic,” he says.
McDonavan turns to the last person, the girl in yellow scrubs.
“Ok, Robota,” he says, “since we can’t get you to respond to any other name, I’ll call you by that one. Why does the pattern not make sense? It is perfectly plain to me, although I’m not a retard.”
“The pattern is continuous in the looping over of circles onto a straight line,” she says, “except for here. It fails to loop over here.”
“That’s called art, sweetie,” he says, “not something you would understand.”
Suddenly, the door opens. A woman in uniform walks in.
“General McDonavan,” she says, “I request your attention.”
“What is it?” he sighs.
“A new case for you. Aliens have landed and are demanding to talk to our leader,” she says calmly.
“Does that mean that I get transferred out of the autism case?” he asks.
She smiles tersely. “No, it does not,” she says.
“Fine,” he says, “lock the retards up. I’ll deal with the aliens.”
Isaac, Spock, and Robota are led down a hallway, into a cell. A nicely lit cell, all white with patterns that were sure to make Robota crazy, but a cell, nonetheless.
When the woman is gone and the door is locked, they start to speak.
“I can’t believe we have been here for five months,” Isaac says, “one day I was happily doing my Calculus, then I’m out here.”
“I can,” Spock says, “the Neurotypicals are like that. They want to eradicate disease. They think we are a disease. They will have a lot more problems if they mess with us, so don’t worry.”
“These patterns do not make sense,” Robota repeats, “and they’ll probably try to harm us. I have studied their behavior. They harm anything that is not normal. The aliens are probably in trouble too.”
“We can get out of here in five days,” Spock says, “It was their mistake to let me use my phone before we were imprisoned.”
“You have the blueprints?” Isaac says.
“Yes,” Spock says, “and I disabled the security cameras trained on us in a discreet way.”
“We have to save the aliens,” Robota says, “They might be like us.”
“True,” Isaac says.
***
The three aliens stand outside. As the general approaches, they try to touch hands like they heard that earth people do. A look of disgust flashes over McDonavan’s face. He steps away from the hand.
“Who are you?” a lieutenant asks.
Silence. The one in the red scrubs reaches for her hand. She recoils in disgust.
The one in blue walks towards McDonavan and touches his hand. McDonavan feels some pain, quickly recoiling.
“Lock them up,” he says to his lieutenant, “they tried to harm me. Not safe around humans.”
The lieutenant tries to handcuff the aliens. They are all reaching for her, desperate to touch her.
“NO!” she barks.
They stop, and the automated handcuffs spring closed on their wrists.
***
There is a pounding of feet in the hall. The three look through the plexiglass divider. General McDonavan is barking orders at lieutenants. Then come the aliens. They are heavily flanked. There are three of them. They are each a good foot taller than general McDonavan. They have to bend down to get through the doors, into the cage across the hallway. They are each wearing what seem to be yellow, red, and blue suits, embroidered with gold. They each have yellow skin and long arms.
“We can’t make contact with them,” general McDonavan says to his lieutenant, “find out what language they speak.”
“But general,” the lieutenant says, “they don’t talk. We know that.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
McDonavan sighs.
***
Day 2
“Still no progress on the aliens?” the lieutenant asks McDonavan.
“Nope,” he says, “they keep trying to communicate with us, but we don’t have the technology to communicate with them.”
“Any progress on the autism case?” she asks as she pours some coffee.
“Don’t talk about that,” McDonavan says, “today we will be getting bioimages of their brains.”
Spock, Isaac, and Robota are marched down the hallway into the bioimaging room.
“I’ve told you; it is illogical to harm us,” Spock says with an emotionless expression.
“This machine will just put you under for a little while,” the lieutenant says.
They exchange looks.
Spock moves over, in front of the machine.
“I’m curious to know how this works,” he says, “obviously this panel,” he says pulling the loose panel off, “is the entrance to the control board.”
“Mm-hm,” the lieutenant says, staring at the computer.
Spock starts pressing buttons on the panel.
“Hey, what are you--” the lieutenant says, but never finishes.
“Run!” Spock yells. The door slides open as the three autistic children sprint away. They may not see things in a neurotypical perspective, but their blood is in their bodies, and they want to keep it that way.
“Wha?” the lieutenant asks. She looks at the control panel. She runs out, screaming for help.
Five minutes later, the SWAT team of the army base is disabling a soon-to-explode bioscanner. Spock knows his machines well.
They watch from the inside of the air duct as the alert is sent out. The three autistic children are wanted. Dead, not alive.
***
General McDonavan sighs. He runs his fingers through his hair.
“Lieutenant,” he calls.
“Yes,” she says.
“Any progress on the autistics search?”
“I put out a death warrant. It will be easier to find what caused the autism that way. They are now a public health risk and public enemy number one.”
McDonavan sighs.
“I guess it is better that they are dead,” McDonavan says, “Call me soft, but I didn’t want to have to kill them. Throttle them, yes. Kill them, no.”
“I know,” the lieutenant says.
“Any progress on the aliens?” McDonavan asks.
“No. They keep gesturing over at the cell that the autistics were in.
McDonvavan sighs yet again.
***
Day 3
They are in the air ducts. They need a plan.
“We need to figure this out. I think I know how we can get out of here with the aliens, but it will be risky,” Spock says, “and I need everyone’s consent. If you want to back out now, I can get you out of here safely.”
“I’m not backing out,” Robota says, “in choosing between a life of regret or the death of a hero, I choose the hero option.”
“Truth is my greater friend,” Isaac says.
“This is a highly logical plan. The reason that we are doing it is highly illogical,” Spock says, “let’s do this.”
Day 4
They wait until nightfall. Spock has disabled the cameras in the cell block.
“I can go first,” Robota says, “You two need to live.”
An argument ensued.
“What do you mean?” Isaac asks, “You need to live too.”
“It is illogical that one of us should die while the others live. We’ll all go down together,” Spock says.
They crawl out of the air vent and land on the ground. The aliens turn to them. They are tall, bright yellow, and look surprised.
Robota takes a deep breath.
“We’re here to let you out,” she says.
The tallest one, the one in blue, takes her hand. Instantly, she is plunged into the alien’s mind.
“You have this ability to communicate with us,” the alien says, “You must be what they call autistic.”
“Yes,” she says, “and the Neurotypicals want to kill us for it. These are my friends, Spock and Isaac.”
Spock and Isaac appear next to her in the alien’s mind.
“We were trying to tell the Neurotypicals what would happen,” the alien says, “we will destroy their planet for the way that they have treated us. We’ll take you three with us.”
“No, no, no,” Robota says, “They need their planet. They don’t mean to be evil or cruel, just curious. They’re ignorant, that’s all. We can get you out of here.”
“I’ll think about it,” the alien says, “my name is ṧ𐊖ㄙſ. These are my friends, åଅᐊᅶ, and Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅.” Two aliens appear next to ṧ𐊖ㄙſ.
“I feel I have found the greater truth,” Isaac says.
Åଅᐊᅶ says, “You must be bright. I have seen you doing the calculations.” Turning to ṧ𐊖ㄙſ, he says, “let’s not destroy their planet.”
Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅 says, “You must be the one they call Spock. You are gifted with computers. The name fits you.”
“You know about that TV show?” Spock asks, and for the first time, a hint of emotion crosses his face.
“Yes,” he says, “we have intercepted signals from your planet for hundreds of years. Only now are we traveling to it.”
“Guys?” Isaac asks, “there’s some trouble…”
They all fall out of the mind realm to see General McDonavan pressing a gun up against Spock’s chest.
“I don’t want to hurt your friends,” he says, “one of you is enough for now. Spock, cooperate, or your friends will suffer your fate.”
Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅 steps forward and, with barely any effort, takes the gun out of McDonavan’s hand.
“I think it’s time we talked,” Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅 says, “that’s right. We were just pretending to not know your language to see if you have any highly evolved humans in your midst. If ṧ𐊖ㄙſ agrees, we won’t destroy your planet. This is conditional. If you touch the hair on the heads of these advanced beings, you will be vaporized.”
“I agree,” ṧ𐊖ㄙſ says, “Your people seem not to want the autistics. Why not give them to us? We need highly evolved life forms.”
General McDonavan stands there in amazement.
“Okay,” he says, “you can have them. First, though, we need to apologize and thank them.”
A smile appears on ṧ𐊖ㄙſ’s face. “You have taken the first step to becoming an advanced civilization,” he says.
***
Day 5-8
The next few days are interesting. There are parades, songs, and food all made for the three autistic children whom nobody wanted at first.
The aliens enjoy the festivities.
Ṧ𐊖ㄙſ says, “This is quite interesting, your earth festivities. On our planet, we do not have such things.”
“It is sometimes fun,” Robota says, “I can’t wait to be in space. My parents couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Now that they perceive me as a hero, they want me back.”
“Pack your bags, we leave tonight,” Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅 says with Spock in tow, “There may be somewhat of a culture shock, but I’m sure you will handle it.”
“What kind of culture shock?” Isaac asks.
“Let’s say that we have much more advanced technology than your planet,” Ẓ⩥ᛎ𝖅 says.
“Where are we going?” asks Robota.
“Into the universe. We won’t be able to return to our home planet for three more earth months. You see, we’re on a mission to discover new life forms that can help our planet,” Ṧ𐊖ㄙſ says.
“What do you need them for?” Robota asks, loading her bag into the cargo hold of the spaceship in the hangar.
“You’ll see soon enough,” Ṧ𐊖ㄙſ says, “mostly because our planet is dying, so we either need a new planet or creatures smart enough to fix our old one. Earth is a nice prospect, but it seems violent.”
***
The group of six climbs aboard the spaceship. It is large, and more complex than any earth ship. Spock is the last one to board the ship. As he turns to close the door, General McDonavan comes up to him.
“I’ve got something for you,” General McDonavan says gruffly.
Spock turns to him. “What?” he asks.
“Three Congressional Medals of Honor for saving the planet. One for each of you,” he says, “and thank you. On behalf of the earth.”
Spock smiles, for the first time in his life.
“You’re welcome,” he says, and he shuts the hatch to the ship.
They fly away, into the night.