by H C Turk
But this composition was no illusory picture plane: Parno viewed a world. A world where textures had the depth of trees, and neutral areas were mountainous. Among flora and sand and stone, unseen by the financial observer, lived a race of humans who would not consider the Earthers alien, but invisible.
He planned on stealing but a tiny part of their world.
Chapter 2
Invisible Gesture Of Ending
Mankind’s arrival jostled Parno’s temporary world. Nature then pressed Parno like paint against his canvas cot. As the matter hold settled, gravity returned. An expanse of matte grey filled the holovid as a technol artist spoke in Parno’s ear.
“Contact achieved,” Vera stated. “Stability affirmed.”
“Window sim,” Parno instructed his cubicle.
Above his desk, the plain wall turned falsely transparent, revealing the base of the volcano’s shallow slope. Beyond, Parno saw a hilly expanse of green and yellow foliage, trees with huge, laciniated leaves, grasses hip-high, cyan sky, clouds like powder sprinkled in the air, retaining their place as though in free fall.
“Personnel,” Parno instructed the communication system, then spoke to the staff.
“I like this place already. I think I see a yellow coconut. I wonder if it tastes like a banana.”
“The initial staff saw them first,” Stacy mentioned from her own cube. “They’re poisonous.”
“The pilot said they’re good if you smoke ’em,” Grazio offered. “You first, superfem.”
Kathlynn said nothing, but Parno heard her snicker.
A serious, professional voice then spoke.
“A ground senser has been released from the cargo bay, Director Hanshaw,” Vera stated. “Initial readings all correspond to the founding staff’s infos.”
“Affirmed,” Ward replied. “We can leave our cubicles, people.”
Parno felt the adhere fab release, and he was able to stand. Since off-world personnel—from technol experts to financial anthropologists—were contractually required to undergo stringent exercise programs, Parno’s knees wobbled, but did not collapse, upon meeting gravity again after floating for weeks.
From previous Stellar Service history, the Earthers knew to expect little danger from this island. Having observed many cultures on the planet, but only one source of ether ore, the original staff had devoted their studies to this locale. Inhabiting a distant continent, the most “advanced” race’s prevalent form of transportation was a three-wheeled wooden cart with metal fittings pulled by mammalian quadrupeds the size and shape of goats. These people had met the Earthers with firearms, hand cannons, and hatred.
They had no art, no ore, and received no interest from Stellar Service.
The staff gathered in the space room, all of them still bubble up. Instead of ENU or Stellar Service uniforms, they wore local coveralls: one-piece suits of plasweave with a faux texture of fine indigenous grasses and vines.
Reading data projected inside her headpiece, Vera spoke to the personnel.
“Environmental assurance affirmed pos.”
Her husband interpreted.
“That means no lightning storms snapping at the ground, no locals with howitzers aimed at our plas, no dragons with open mouths ready to eat us. And we ain’t floating in quicksand. Environmental assurance verified positive, questionable atmosphere. Watch them viruses, me hearties. Keep your bubbles up, and step outside.”
“At your order, director,” Vera said to Ward.
“Time to take a stroll,” Ward said with a prideful tone and a genuine smile. “With a gravity of nine-tenths Earth-norm, the walk should be pleasant. Then we’ll settle our house, arrange our gear, and go meet some new friends.”
The director stood nearest the airlock door, erect, waiting. Parno knew Stellar Service decorum, and was proud to comply. Being second in the hierarchy, he faced his superior, and waved him on.
“At your pleasure, sir,” Parno said.
“The honor is mine to first step foot on this planet as the director of Stellar Service’s anthropological team,” Ward stated formally.
By then, Vera had opened the airlock’s inner door. Ward entered, the remaining five crowding in behind him. Despite some maneuvering, Parno was not able to press against Kathlynn shoulder to shoulder, or chest to chest. He found himself nose to nose with Grazio.
“Hey, anthro man, your beard is getting grey, and you’re only forty. Geez, you finance people got all that pressure on you causing you to die young?”
“Yes, but we get a terrific pension for dying young,” Parno replied.
Grazio guffawed, his body jostling Parno—and Vera and Stacy. The director glared, and the pilot went silent. Still nose to nose with Grazio, Parno pursed his lips in a kiss. Grazio clenched his jaws, turned red in the face and neck, but managed not to belch out another inappropriate laugh.
Vera cycled the airlock by pressing the palm pad controls. Though Kapnos 3’s atmosphere was breathable, biological studies of air samples from the original landing suggested that microorganisms might cause the Earthers distress, despite their regimen of holistic vaccines.
“Exterior environment verified as corresponding to previously established analyses,” Vera stated over her shoulder.
“Don’t breathe the air,” Grazio muttered, watching his wife’s fingers move against the panel. “Don’t drink the water, and don’t eat them big fuzzy bananas. Exterior environment acceptable for entry as per Stellar Service indicators.”
The techs heard data in their suits that the boat’s technol systems did not relay to financial emissaries.
As the outer door slid open, the planet filled their senses, coming first as brilliance, the light of late morning pressing heads back as though a concrete entity, a stiff wind or hard rain. After blinking, the Earthers focused on nature. They saw no buildings, no float cars, no plasphalt, no crowds, traffic, or queues. To their side, the small, collapsed mountain seemed perfect in size. From their vantage on higher ground, the Earthers looked across the expansive magma flow of the volcano, a dark, dull, solidified wash of nature’s painting, yards thick beneath their feet. They looked above the forest’s trees, palm-like flora with slick trunks and arching fronds. Though many trees were primarily green, a different species had a broader trunk and yellow leaves the length of an Earther’s arm. The forest held a variegation of yellows from cream to banana peel. Through a stand of dense, brownish-yellow brush the height of a humanoid, the Earthers saw a slash of pink: the beach. From a kilometer away, they heard the ocean’s music, a chorus of collapsing waves. Wind pressed alien leaves together, creating a pleasant rustle. An unknown creature—perhaps reptile or insect—called out sharp croaks from its flora home. Above, nature pulled a point through the sky in a curve that did not leave a line, like a drawing. Only upon nearing did that tiny flitting animal prove to be a bird, not a bug.
The entire staff had stepped out, following the director, automatically moving to gain a better view. Vera only glimpsed a moment before returning to her duties. Proceeding to the cargo bay, she removed a conglomerate device the size and shape of a plasmetal pie. After directing her eyes toward the ground senser to input her retinal ID, Vera pressed the thumb controls, then released the instrument, which remained at hip height, perceiving its surrounds, recording sight, sound, smell, plus technol info comprehendible only to data integrators. A moment later, the ground senser disappeared. Selectively reflecting the environment, it dropped to ground level, reflected the magma about its perimeter, and became invisible from any direction.
As the remaining staff viewed the environment, listening to the breeze and to animals speaking abstractly, Grazio removed two flag poles from the cargo bay. He stepped to Ward, who accepted the self-boring poles, each an Earth-norm pace in length. The length of yellow alien leaves.
The next sound was human. Being unnatural to the greater environment, Ward’s voice seemed alien to Parno.
Vera nodded to the director, who began thei
r mission. He did not speak to the staff, but faced the unseen ground senser.
“I am Stellar Service Offworld Executive Ward Hanshaw, director of the Kapnos 3 Cultural Project. At Earth Mean Time 17:57:40, date 3.19.2247, we begin our interaction with this planet. Our intention is to aid without change, to leave without taking, to give without harming. With grace to all peoples, I hereby establish this settlement.”
With a stiff movement, Ward bent to press the poles against the ground. They rapidly extended to a height of seven paces. A flag unfurled from each: the stars and gradated sky of Stellar Service, and the twirling world of Earth Nations United. Ward then turned to the ENU supervisor.
“Mizz Shumard, do you have a statement?”
“My log has been constant since we began,” Kathlynn replied, “but ENU records are not for public display.”
Grazio spoke while removing air sleds from the cargo bay. Though capable of supporting several humans, each massed but a few kilograms.
“Hey, Kathlynn, we’re not the public, we’re your pals—ain’t we?”
“Thank you for the input, Grazio,” Ward said sharply. “Will you please get that sled ready so I can begin?”
Grazio said only, “Yes,” and yanked out a double air sled as though he planned on hurling it.
While Vera glared at her husband and shook her head, Kathlynn began staring at Parno, looking him up and down, but not speaking to him.
“Ward, these ground suits are the latest, I know, but they are still not invisible. The technol pad is obvious, of course, but it looks like a back pad, and garments of this nature are worn by many races. Primitive cultures, however, do not wear glittery layers of pure light. Glints from the bubble are obvious. They show its curvature. And the suit itself is almost…hazy, like a coating on your coveralls—our coveralls. I’m sure we all appear the same as Parno. Don’t you think this strange appearance will distress the indigenes?”
Offworld Emissary Hadjara replied.
“Kathlynn, I’ll remind you that the indigenes wear no apparel. Since Stellar Service, as a federally regulated enterprise and a group of average citizens, respects the New Prudism movement in America, our people here will not be traipsing about nude.”
Ward spontaneously turned jovial.
“Well spoken, Parno,” he replied with a loud, pleasant voice.
Her facial muscles tight, Kathlynn stepped within a half pace of Parno. She fingered her wrist, instructing the ground suit to allow only the nearest person to hear her.
“You and I are not New Prudists, Parno, so I’m sure you can accept my characterizing you as a sycophant. A brown-noser.”
“Hmmm. Well, Kathlynn, since you aren’t a New Prude, I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that brown-nosing is something I’d like to apply to your position.”
Parno did not smile—he couldn’t. He meant what he said.
Kathlynn stalked away, to Ward.
“I’d like to hear again how you intend on proceeding,” she asked the director, her words implying a demand.
“The itinerary devised on Earth hasn’t changed,” Ward told her. “Stacy and I will approach the indigenes formally, attempting to communicate with their hierarchy. At the same time, Parno will approach more casually, attempting to interact with the average indigene.”
“Ward, if you and Parno plan on being separated, how can I supervise you simultaneously?”
“Kathlynn, you know that Parno and I will each be accompanied by a senser, and that you will have real-time access to all the data they collect. I’m not your director. You are the only independent here, so don’t ask me to do your job for you.”
Ward turned to Vera, who approached with a sled. Shallow tubs of some four by six feet when unfolded, the dull green plasmetal transporters had the featureless appearance typical of modern technol gear. These sleds, however, were disguised. The flat sides resembled stacked tree limbs, the single seat suggested straw and palm fronds, and each sled was equipped with four spoked wheels—retractable—evidently wood of a native species. As encouraged by weather, the riders could erect a top of selectable opacity, normally left invisible. Vera stepped from the sled, which floated inches above the ground. Supported by hardened-air packets, air sleds disturbed the surface below no more than a breeze. When approaching indigenous humans, the riders would extend the wheels, thus avoiding intimations of alien magic, strange, hard clouds floating above the soil.
Parno walked to the cargo bay, where Grazio waited with a sled. Vera followed.
“Hey, chum, get your trinkets and charms out of my boat so the hotshot director can get out of my face and I can go to work.”
“Don’t you want to play with my toys?” Parno asked while sliding a vid viewer from a holding slot.
“No, I want to play with the mountain,” Grazio replied. “Your toys are boring. If I want to play with something, it will be the molecular miner, or the wifey here.”
“Vera, my imitation antique silk kimono material is dirty,” Parno mentioned.
“I’m sorry, Parno, but the pilot popped out of second space with a paramass blast suitable more for destruction than transportation. Your silk was removed from its sack by gravity elation. It is lovely.”
She held the end of the unfurled bolt draped from her shoulders to waist. A pale green bamboo pattern against a blue-grey river background.
Turning between the men, her face reminiscent of a child’s, Vera asked, “How do I look?”
“Hey, you look good naked sprawled all over me, so let’s get to work,” Grazio replied.
Vera handed Parno the fabric, having lost her lovely expression.
Parno stepped aboard the sled, grabbed the joystick, and rode to Kathlynn. Ward and Stacy sat on their own sled, examining the projected map.
“Room for two,” Parno told the supervisor. “However, while Ward is courting kings and queens, I’ll be resorting with the baseborn. I was born poor, so I’m comfortable in the trenches, the latrines. You should have seen the sex pits on Alpha Floga. Could I please request the great pleasure of your accompanying me?” he concluded, and smiled foolishly.
“Yes,” she stated firmly. “I’ve decided to go with you, because you can’t be trusted.”
Before placing one foot aboard the sled, Kathlynn stopped, staring past the matter hold, toward the cold volcano.
“Indigene,” she said in a whisper.
Everyone turned, staring at the motion. The motion of an old man slowly stepping from the obscuring foliage onto the bare lahar. Fifty paces from the hold, he stopped, settling into a seated position. His shoulders and head slumped. Never had he even glimpsed the Earthers, who waited for him to topple over onto his face.
Kathlynn did not wait.
“He needs help,” she wheezed, and began running toward the indigene.
Parno jumped off the sled and grabbed her arm. Flinging his hand off with a violent whirl of her torso, Kathlynn scowled at the financial anthropologist.
“Don’t ever touch me like that,” she demanded. “I’m not your wife.”
She continued to the indigene, walking now.
“No, but I am the anthropologist,” Parno called out loudly to her back, “and I say keep away from the indigenes. This is no coincidence. We’re witnessing a cultural event.”
Turning from the old man, who had not moved, Kathlynn spoke over her shoulder.
“How do you know? No one has studied this culture.”
“I know the nature of humanoid cultures.”
“Geez, and I know a fool when I see her butt wiggle away,” Grazio growled.
“Here’s what I know,” Ward snapped to passing Kathlynn, “if you interfere with this culture, you’re a hypocrite with no job. If you proceed, I’ll get any contract I want from this planet.”
Kathlynn stopped as the indigene transformed from man to gas.
A dull thump sounded and the man burst into flames. Even from their removed positions, the Earthers heard pressurized steam streak
ing from his body, heard the crackle of his superheated bones break, then burn to ash. The fire was so bright that only flames were visible, no consuming body. A moment later, nothing remained of the indigene but an application of ashes against the lahar, the substances compatible in color and composition. The man’s gas dispersed within his world. The forces of man and nature had concluded the artwork of the elder’s life with an invisible gesture of ending.
Staring, her limbs rigid, Kathlynn had halted near no other staff member. She was not part of the staff, however, but an outside supervisor. An alien.
“They do that on Cotia 4,” Grazio said, sounding confused, “but use a machine.”
No mad rush of shocked emotions overcame the Terrans. Each person found dismay and fear, but no terror. Not these professionals. Every witness had seen worse.
Stacy spoke so quietly that she might have been whispering in church, perhaps offering a prayer.
“I suggest we study this occurrence before, before proceeding to the ether ore.”
“Agreed,” Ward said, sounding reverential himself, but only for that single word. He sounded like a displeased director upon confronting the technolists.
“Vera, you had better tell me why this was a surprise. How could a sizable, living mammal approach our settlement without our knowledge?”
Concentrating with her head cocked, Vera seemed to be looking nowhere. In her suit, she received data from the local sensers, the multi-reader dropped from orbit, and from the matter hold itself.
