GROUND / CH. 11: CONTACT

SPACE

“Captain, I'm getting a pulsed signal from the planet,” Ernest said.

“The local Morse code equivalent? I'm not surprised.”

“No captain. Ten centimetre band, it registers as a probe-ship homing beacon. I'd like your permission to deviate the nearest probe from the survey to investigate.”

“Do it, Ernest,” Maggie said, “We didn't pick up anything when we got here the first time. We almost missed the pseudo-Morse because we listened so long.”

“I know, Captain,” Ernest said.

“Well? Go on, send the probe down! We don't want to lose the signal if it's intermittent.”

“Oh, urm, I rather anticipated your order captain. I wonder if you'd like to pilot the probe yourself? E.T.A. to the site is five minutes.”

“Go, Maggie.” Rachel said. “I'll get a message to your Gran as well.”

“And Sathie?” Ernest asked.

“Yes. Even if it's nothing, I don't want to exclude her.”

----------------------------------------

SPACE

“I just don't understand what's happened to the ship,” Sathie said, “The hull looks so thin in places, and the field generators are just gone. Did I make it so poorly?”

“Look, there's a... it looks like a marker-stone, set against the ship's hull,” Ernest saw.

“I'm sending the probe down for a closer look,” Maggie said. “I see writing on it.”

“It looks like English, Mer and some other script. Can you get it bigger, Maggie?” Heather asked, “my eyes are getting blurry.”

Maggie read “'This stone marks the place of the first contact between planets. Here crashed Mick Karella John of Earth and of the University of Mars, through his own stupid fault, almost on top of Academician Lana of the University of Ground. Let it be known that both were very badly injured, but both live to write this stone on the sixth anniversary of their pooling resources to survive. Let it be known that the probe-ship's antimatter battery is whole, for Sathie's ship was wonderfully made, (though no one expected it to enter atmospheres at interplanetary speeds with its forcefields off). Do not investigate the ball, the power source of this ship, it contains annihilation, and you may crack the mountains. It's a lovely planet, let's keep it that way.

“Beneath this spot lie a few of Mick's long bones. May the predators that scattered them and ate the missing ones not eat you. Keep your eyes open and your knives sharp, Mick. ps. hardly anyone knows I'm here.'”

“His bones?” Sathie said, shocked.

“His long bones,” Heather said. “I guess Mick needs some serious regen.”

“Majesty, is it true?” Sathie asked Heather, in a whisper.

“Oh, it's true.” Heather said. “The ship you built was wonderfully made, Sathzakara Shipbuilder. It sounds like its unprotected hull survived an unplanned and uncontrolled atmospheric entry, so well done, young woman!”

“I'm just wondering what 'pooling resources' means in the English and 'eating each other's fish' in the Mer might actually mean,” Maggie said, “especially when some of Mick's bones are under the ground.”

“I don't know, but he's given us a Rosetta stone for their script.” Ernest said.

“That'll make the linguists drool,” Maggie pointed out.

“And that postscript means we can't just skip to asking people where Mick is, doesn't it?” Sathie said.

“It does. Sorry, Sathie. It also means that we still need to avoid sending probes into the city, even if no one seems to be worried about the strange lights in the sky.”

“James still hasn't been able to talk to anyone?” Heather asked.

“No. He can't call Mick, for some reason, and feels uneasy when we ask him to talk to the people he talked to before. Maybe we should ask him if he can talk to this Academician Lana?”

“Please,” Sathie asked.

“Ernest, can you take over here? I want lots of lovely imagery of the marker and the crash site. But watch out for the predators, especially the big sort. They can leap at least five metres high and their bite force is enough to damage probes.”

“Lovely neighbours for your picnic,” Sathie said. “No wonder Mick said keep your knife sharp.”

----------------------------------------

GROUND

[Academician Lana, I am James, has Mick told you of the Gift? I have it.]

[I greet you James. He has, yes. But shouldn't you be calling Mick, not me?]

[I try, but cannot.]

[Can you hear me now?] Mick thought.

[{shock} How on Earth?]

[The planet here is called Ground, old friend.] Mick said [Not much of me survived the crash, James. Lana has been my life-support ever since.]

[I've seen your message at the crash site, the... pooling resources, that's what you meant?]

[I wondered how you thought to call Lana. Ready for the full gory details?]

[OK.]

[James, I don't know if you need to spread this very far.... but Lana lost a lot of skin and flesh in the crash. My bod represented protein and fat and iron she desperately needed if she was to survive, and I had a rib through my heart. She... used a rather dangerous technique she'd learned in her studies, and wrapped her skin organisms around most of my flesh that wasn't too mixed with landscape. She tells me that eating is faster, and much safer, but her stomach was injured, and this way she could keep bits of me for study. She's very good with painkillers, by the way. We were a bit surprised neither of us died from toxic anything, but there it is. My eyes and thick head survived, I've even got my own hair, but my neck comes out of her shoulder, and my central nervous system and some other bits are hosted in her body. My lungs work better than hers, but it's her blood that goes though them. We can chat mind to mind, and I'm learning to ask her organisms to do things, and I've got a human-like hand I can do stuff like wield a rock-cutter with, but it's out of her organisms. Most people think she's just made herself an extra pair of eyes to help her catch people violating safety rules. If she'd done this with someone else here, she'd probably be burned as a necromancer or the local equivalent, so I'm not public knowledge.]

[Wow. That's a lot of regrowth therapy there, my friend.]

[Yes. Also, she's ethically and morally opposed to betraying any of her organisms to needless death, and if she separates from me then it's a big cultural taboo to accept organisms back — that'd like eating your kid.]

[Well put, Mick.] Lana thought, [That's almost exactly what it would be like.]

[Mick, Sathie's here, wondering what's taking so long.]

[Sathie's there?]

[So is Maggie, she's captain of this ship, and your Grandmother.]

[Does that mean Grandpa Matthew has died?]

[Yes. The funeral was just before we came.]

[The cancer came back?]

[Yes.]

[With what the doctors were saying... I can't say I'm surprised. Poor Gran.]

[There's a fair number of people who want to hug you up here. Any chance of a visit?]

[Tricky. A cold virus might kill me. We're not sure if I've got any immune system. I've certainly got no long-bones full of marrow or a liver, even.]

[You have got a liver.] Lana corrected, [I kept some, and it regrew itself. And truth be told I'm sort of relying on it at the moment, like your lungs. I told you that you're no parasite. I'll be sorry to see your liver go, actually. I worked out that it's helping me fly, by cleaning things up so well.]

[Feel free to keep some, like you said, it regrows.] Mick thought.

[You mean that?] Lana was surprised.

[Basically I've no idea what goes on inside me, Lana. We used to do organ donation, before we learned to get our own cells to regrow. If it helps you and doesn't hurt me, feel free to keep bits.]

[No problems with rejection?] Mick asked.

[That's an immune function. I expect Lana's organisms eat anything that's a threat, like T-cells and white blood cells, if I've got anything that's making them.]

[I'm sure they do, yes. I hope you don't mind.] Lana agreed.

[Sorry if the concept offends Lana, but to me they're just some cells that would cause problems. Killing problematic cells I can't control isn't a problem at all. Even killing cells that aren't problematic isn't an issue, as long as they're not important ones and they don't trigger pain cells. You didn't consume my reproductive organs, you didn't consume my nervous system, and you're very good at making sure I'm not hurting. These days they know how to regrow the rest. One of the modern wonders of technology. We didn't used to be able to do that.]

[Like faster than light travel,] Lana thought.

[Yes, that too. That was impossible until Grandma worked out how to do it.]

[The one who's here?] Lana asked.

[Up here in the lab, yes.]

['The lab'.] Mick said, processing that. [You came in the bubble lab?]

[Apparently your Gran thought ahead and fitted it with bubble generators before it was mothballed. Oh, she also flew it at warp 11 before parking it there, just to prove that was safe. Most of the time was looking for crew. We have a regen therapist. I somehow doubt he's ever started with a severed head though.]

[Not a severed head, you're exaggerating. Urm, Lana, I know I have my neck, do I have my backbone?]

[Most of it.]

[There, see? Head, backbone, lungs, liver. But like I say, the problem is going to be rebuilding me without killing any bits of Lana.]

[Yes. So a quick slice with a rock-cutter and then he can do a whole severed head reconstruction, can't he?]

[You, my friend, are a maniac. I hope you're not going to suggest anything like that in front of Sathie.]

[No.] James agreed [How much do you want to tell her yourself?]

[I don't know. I guess you need to tell her pretty much everything, or she'll wonder why I'm not rushing to cover her with kisses. If she could come up with a comms unit that can be fully sterilized, I'd not let her or Lana get any sleep.]

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

[Don't be stupid, Mick,] Lana said, [If Sathie can cope with seeing you like this, I expect my organisms can cope with any germs you catch from kissing her. You've not died from any of the sicknesses I caught in the last six years, so I don't think our diseases cross the inter-species barrier. I'm prepared to take the risk if she is. I'm healthy, after all, and I've met the ones you had. Or... I think we could separate.]

[And I try to keep your organisms?]

[You look after them, protect them, reassure them, and tell them to bud if your immune system really can't leave them alone, and then you look after your podling.]

[But... I thought your other organisms needed brain organisms to bud.]

[They will. And eye organisms, and stomach organisms, and so on, and you'd have to think of the brain organisms, eye organisms and the rest that I give you as part of you, unless you decide to bud them off. You cannot, must not, think to them as different to you, or you're making a podling and it would be evil to keep a podling prisoner in yourself. You'll need to discuss it all with Lak.]

[So really... I'd end up a bit like people think you are? Two heads, but I'd have to think both are me?]

[Whose hand is this?]

[You've sort of lent it to me, and it's a good arm. The wings are all yours.]

[I thought you might feel like that. So I don't know if it's going to work.]

[I'd need to think of the bits you lent me as being as much me as the bits we're hoping to grow back, wouldn't I? Until I sadly had to send them on their way.]

[Exactly. If I'd thought of this earlier, it might have been easier for you.]

[Except the thing about the brain organisms... I don't know how to think of brain organisms which I guess are going to think differently to me as not something separate.]

[Mick, what do you think of your autonomous nervous system?] James asked, [Would that be a model?]

[Interesting idea,] Mick agreed.

[I guess you'll need to fill me in about that. Otherwise I'll need to work out to convince your cells they need to grow enough that you don't die when I give birth to you, won't I?] Lana thought, using the English phrase [Is that the phrase you use, Mick?]

[{stunned} How did you learn that? Yes, it is.]

[I've been talking to your brain about words, Mick.]

[Talk to Rodger about what's needed to start regrowth.] James said.

[Rodger?] Lana asked.

[Regrowth therapist. Any idea what the Anskark scale is, Mick? He's got a level fifteen facility here.]

[Back when I was a lad, it only went up to ten. Missing cartilage was one if I remember rightly. Maybe he can cope with a severed head. But I still want to keep what Lana calls my interesting bits, so no getting out your rock cutter without Sathie's written permission.]

James laughed. “Sorry Sathie, I've just been having a discussion with Mick and Lana.”

“Mick's all right?”

“For a given value of all right, yes. He's in good spirits, he's not in any immediate danger as long as Lana stays out of trouble. On the other hand, Lana is apparently 'hosting him' as a sort of walking life support. Except she's got wings, so I guess she's flying life-support, actually. It's sort of symbiosis, that's what they meant about pooling resources. Her blood in his blood vessels; his lungs helping oxygenate it. He's got his head, hair even, spine and quote 'interesting bits', which Mick seems to feel you have some claim on. And Lana is happy to take the risk of letting him cover you with kisses if the way he is now won't gross you out. Separating them is going to be easy in one way and hard in another. I get the impression that Lana can easily spit him out, except she's just thought of it as giving birth to him, but then there's the problem of him immediately dying due to lack of blood, etc. They were talking about different options... Lana's very protective of the organisms that make her up, and some sort of 'she-lends him some and then takes them back' would be akin to giving birth and then eating your baby.”

Sathie sat down. “So he's stuck? Glued to this alien?”

“No. One option was she offered to split him off with enough of her organisms so he'd be independent, but the issue there is if he regrows his own immune system, does that kill the organisms that she gave him. That'd be the worst kind of betrayal, to just leave them to die. But if he asked them to leave, to become his 'child' that would be bad too, unless he had some brain organisms to send with them. But he can't accept brain organisms from Lana if he's going to think of them as not part of him. Once he does that then they'll become a separate entity, and he has to let them go, and the nearest equivalent to how she felt about him not doing so would be child abuse.”

“And other options?”

“One extreme is we ask Rodger if he can cope with a decapitated head and leave all the rest with Lana to do with as she likes. That's where Mick said you'd need to give permission for him to leave his other bits behind. Another extreme is that Mick just doesn't regrow anything. Another option was that somehow Rodger teaches Lana how to make regrowth solution.”

“It's not just one thing,” Sathie said.

“I'm really not surprised to hear that.”

Sathie sat and thought for a long time. “Has he got his ears?”

“His ears?”

“Yes. If he's still got his ears and his hair and his nose, then I don't think I'm going to be grossed out.”

“Hold on, I'll ask.”

----------------------------------------

GROUND, UNIVERSITY SAFETY OFFICE

“What are you writing?” Lana asked, in the lull between the last inspection and the office closing.

“Something about you.”

“What?”

“A description of your work, your skills, and so on.”

“For your financey?”

Mick laughed “Fiancée. Finance is a fancy word for money and what you use it for and things like that. Yes. But technically Sathie isn't my fiancée. We promised each other that we'd spend enough time together when I got back so we could decide that. There are two sayings in English: 'out of sight, out of mind,' and 'absence makes the heart grow fonder,' we wanted to find out which one applied.”

“And?”

“You might have noticed I'm pretty fond of her. But... it's been a long long time.”

“You wrote the sign in English and in Merish. Why?”

“Because I wanted to say some things where the meaning was clearer using both.”

“Oh. But why do you have two languages? I mean, the predators have their language, and we have our language, but the Mer and land-folk have surely mixed enough, and been near enough for the languages to not be that far apart.”

“Urm. Lana?”

“Yes?”

“There are thousands of languages on Earth, and hundreds, probably thousands more that have died out.”

“Oh. That's... that's too complicated. No wonder you have people who study language. How can someone speak thousands of languages?”

“They don't. Most people only know one to three. My sister speaks more than most, my grandmother too.”

“Then how do you understand each other?”

“We don't. Thousands of millions of humans, remember? What I don't really understand is why there are so few of you.”

“The more we pod the weaker and stupider we become, unless we mix, which brings other problems. Oh.”

“What?” Mick asked.

“You mix, you always mix. Every generation grows up having learnt from the generation before, and everyone speaks a bit differently. Differences multiply...”

“You don't learn from the generation before?”

“If I had budded, my podling's — technically my budling's — brain-organisms would remember the language it knew before podding, it'd need reminding but not training from scratch. Same with my other organisms and lots of the skills they knew, and so on.

If I podded with someone, it would be a mixture, depending which donor gives which organisms.”

“You can donate more than one organism when you pod, yes? But you never combine skills or knowledge?”

“What, take organisms of the same type from both donors? Bad suggestion.”

“Immoral?” Mick asked.

“Not just that, it causes all sorts of problems. Mental instability, growth problems.”

“You mean that the organisms can't cooperate within one type.”

“Yes.”

“And yet you wonder we and the predators fight amongst ourselves? I think it's what theologians call a consequence of sin.”

“Predators have sinned?”

“That's one interpretation. Or the chief bearers of the divine image here are caught in disunity and who should expect them to be any different. But you said podlings from a budding or a podding don't need teaching, just reminding, but those from mixing do?”

“Yes. It puts mixlings at a disadvantage, but they have advantages too. Normally they're far more inventive, for example.”

“You have an amazing skill-set, don't you, in frontier biology?”

“I am fourth generation in this field.”

“Una was right. You were the only one who could have done it. And yet you risk that inheritance?”

“I'm not convinced about frontier biology as a field now, any more than Una was.”

“You'll excuse me for holding an alternative view.”

“But what's the use? I can understand Predator speak. What good does that do? They still want to eat me.”

“You can? Wow! James will want to talk to you about that.”

“OK, I'll talk to James about that. I'm still not going to bud just to continue my knowledge. Maybe in a decade or two. And there aren't any romances on the horizon, before you make that suggestion.”

“Kalak,” Mick said.

“Pardon?”

“He's on the horizon. Much nearer, actually. I'll go dumb.”

Kalak came through the office door. “Academician, Lana.”

“Hello Kalak. Is this to do with the other night's incident?”

“When did you first visit the crash site, Academician?”

“You smell of suspicion, Kalak,” Lana said, “It's not a very pleasant odour.”

“I saw one of the three small dots that have been circling the planet drop from its unnatural path, and disappear into the forest. I marked where it went, shifted my position as far as I could until I saw it leave again. I applied the laws of geometry and visited the place that it had visited. And so I found the crash site.”

“I must congratulate you on the precision of your vision, Academician Kalak.”

“What is annihilation?”

“My brother is the person to talk about theology, Kalak,” Lana said, “but approximately it means total and irretrievable destruction.”

“The sphere contains annihilation,”

“It does, yes.”

“How did you learn that?” Kalak asked.

“Kalak, you are a fit person, obviously, to have visited the crash site and returned. And brave too, to enter predator territory. Are you well fed and capable of another long walk?”

“Why?”

“To meet the being who engraved that rock, and perhaps others who can explain to you annihilation better than I can.”

“You are saying you can contact the aliens?”

“I think I can do something that should probably attract their attention. I don't know if they'll come, but I think it'll help you understand. Unless you want to accuse me of something now?”

“I am interested to know exactly what happened six harvests ago, Academician,” Kalak said. “You met an alien.”

“Call me Lana, please. I interacted with an alien. I think that met is not the correct verb.”

“What do aliens look like?”

“Have you not seen the sketches from Yasfort? That one is a better example. The alien I interacted with looked like he had been thrown from his ship at high speed and his body was not designed to withstand the impact force.”

“And you also were injured.”

“Yes. Follow me?”

She took to the air and flew.

[Is Kalak a mixtling?]

[A mixling? You know, that's entirely probable.]

[He seems like a bright person.]

['The aliens are coming to kill us all!'] Lana quoted.

[So, he's been educated by silly plays and books. Does age matter to you? That's to say, if he was ten years younger than you, would it matter?]

[You're thinking I ought to be thinking romantic thoughts about him?]

[I don't know. You're not quite expressing fear, as far as I can work out.]

[Abject terror?] Lana suggested.

[No, something else.]

[You've promised to defend me. Will you?]

[You mean would I kill him to save you and me from certain dismemberment? Is that what this journey is about?] He'd heard her decided she needed to take Kalak away from the University, but Mick had been trying to not pay attention to her every thought. It made it easier to write the assessment of Lana's skills he'd been working on.

[No, it's about getting him somewhere he can't scream when we tell him he's right.]

[Is he? Is he right if he thinks you've violated ethics? Neither Lek nor Una did. Where are we going?]

[Where you killed some predators for me.]

[Good choice. And if they attack, I'll kill some for him too? I'm happy to do that. Or to defend you if he attacks you physically.]

[What if he attacks you?]

[Then I expect you can make some kind of hypodermic claw that will inject him full of chemicals to put him to sleep. I think that'd be better than cutting him up.]

[You have a strange morality.]

[Me?] Mick asked.

[You'd have me violate his biochemistry?] Lana asked, in outrage.

[You'd have me burn away lots of his organisms? The rock-cutter's not a knife, Lana, that organisms can try to blunt to save others or avoid if they react quickly enough; it shreds molecules and atoms in its path and turns them to dust and gas. If he attacks me, if he gets close, I'd have to turn it on as soon as it's out of its pocket, and burn away his insides from the inside out. Is that what you want?]

[No, Mick, I wouldn't have you do that,] Lana thought to him.

[So, why do I have a strange morality?]

[Because to us, it would be more acceptable to rip him to pieces than to put him to sleep.]

[But to burn him?]

[Not acceptable.]

[I hope he appreciates the distinction when he wakes up, then.]

[So do I.]

[So... back to my question.]

[You asked a lot of questions,] Lana pointed out.

[How much does age difference matter to you?]

[I don't need your help in finding a husband,] Lana thought, annoyed.

[I know, I know, you had so many suitors before I turned up.]

[You know I didn't]

[Why not? You're a very nice person.]

[I'm also a very dangerous person. I don't 'fit in the mould' as I think you say. You might have noticed.]

[None of your kind fit the mould, you change shape too easily.]

[Did I get it wrong?]

[No. I just don't understand why you consider yourself so different to other women.]

[I'm no nurturer.]

[Oh, of course not, mum. Who do you think you're fooling?]

[I have principles. Lots of principles.]

[What's wrong with having principles?]

[I will not chase a male as if my only purpose in life is to find a mate. I will not become a subservient home-maker.]

[Oh. Is that the expected path? Get married and bang, no more career?]

[Some think it should be that way.]

[I bet a few of the women genuinely like that idea, and the men they say it to think they speak for all of the women, who tell everyone and hold them up as examples, and their voice gets heard, and so on. Let me point out that my Sathie made my ship for me, and I expect her to continue building ships and making other beautifully complicated machines after we marry. Assuming she's not so disgusted by my current state that she doesn't want to marry me. But actually, she's a bit odd too. Among us Mer, it is normally the men who hunt, and the women are the fighters. A woman who doesn't like the thought of cutting up sharks is fairly odd. I heard that, by the way.]

[What?]

[You hoping Kalak is more interested in truth than being a shark.]

[You want me to get used to the idea of a suitor, don't you?]

[Look, Lana, I'd much rather he was your friend than your enemy. That way no one gets hurt, and you don't get lonely when I'm not there to talk to when you wake up in the night.]

[I'm not going to just marry the first person who shows an interest, Mick.]

[Good. Make sure you only marry someone with a living faith in God, for instance. Oh, Kalak fits that. Has Kalak shown an interest?]

[I do not have to answer that,] Lana thought firmly.

[True, but I'd rather I heard it from your deliberate thought, that way you know I know it.]

[Maybe I should just reject you here and now?]

[Sorry, Lana. I'm being too curious, aren't I?]

[Yes.]

[Sorry.]

[And you have a very nasty habit of telling people things that shouldn't be blurted.]

[Lana, if people make decisions about me I hear them, or about you since what affects you affects me. It's part of my ability as a thought-hearer. I really don't understand how it works cross-species, and so on. But then I don't understand how I can understand your thoughts either. Anyway, I have taken a vow that I won't share what I hear, but that doesn't mean I can't react to them.]

[You've heard Kalak decide something about me?]

[I may not reveal it if I have, Lana.] Mick looked down. [He's keeping up with you well, though, isn't he?]