by H C Turk
“Parno, there are some fears in life that we cannot bear to confront. Would you confront, in the form of witnessing, the heinous torture of a child, though aware that medicine could heal her completely?”
He could not reply for a moment, looking into Kathlynn’s eyes not with passion, but exhaustion.
“So, you’ve explained why you couldn’t get out of the suit, but why couldn’t you move in it?”
“I didn’t want to move, I wanted to learn. The suit, the same as the rest of the vessel’s technols, responds in some manner to idea and emotion. Oh, Parno, just think how tremendously advanced these people are,” she concluded with an enthusiasm Parno did not find contagious.
“If they are so advanced, why did a bunch of voodoo natives kill them?”
“Parno, we don’t know that occurred.”
“We have every reason to think that the aliens all died like that native male on the slopes.”
“Parno, perhaps the indigenes learned that type of death from the aliens.”
“Let’s concern ourselves with our own deaths for now. Kathlynn, when you enter the suit—or ‘wrap it on’—the first thing you have to do is learn how to move in it. Then we can bring it to the loo. That way, we’ll be in a safe place, and you can learn the alien technols at your leisure. I learned how to open the suits; you can learn how to move them.”
While speaking, Kathlynn flexed her feet. She hopped. Only once.
“Oh, Parno, I’m so excited. Let’s leave right away.”
She rapidly walked to the exit panel. A liberal translation of her movement would be “skipping.”
“Parno, you don’t seem enthused. Do I detect a lack of confidence?”
“While you’re playing with the aliens’ toys, I’ll be sharing torture with the ghost.”
She clenched both hands, not quite into fists.
“I’ll have to concentrate on learning no more than necessary,” she declared. “All I want to do is take that suit to the loo as quickly as possible. That’s the only thing I’ll bear in mind.”
As they entered the lobby, neither Parno nor Kathlynn intended to linger. Proceeding to the “translation arena” panel, however, Parno found himself alone. Kathlynn had stopped in the center of the parlor. After a moment, she stepped abruptly away, approaching the greenhouse panel. Bending, Kathlynn gestured for Parno to follow, whispering:
“I saw a movement.”
Before Parno could approach, Kathlynn inhaled a painful breath that seemed a whine. Straightening, she stepped away in nearly a leap. That movement she had seen continued, nearing the Earthers’ discarded ground suits. Though the wondrous alien floor had cleaned their suits, one would soon be soiled black again. That movement approaching was not foliage swept by the wind, not a curious rodent, but disembodied darkness, the shadow of death.
On the greenhouse panel, a rejected parcel stirred. Abandoned by its master, one garment accepted foreign living. Rising from the dead at the invocation of fear’s demon, the ground suit extended, bubble closed, not filled with a human body, but grey ashes suspended in an atmosphere of death. A human form then stood in the alien, imitation scene, its dead volume filled with the smoke of ghosts. The deathless figure—more foreign than any alien—twitched its limbs, stepping awkwardly toward the nearest door, a ghost of the living propelled by the spirit of fire.
Turning simultaneously, Parno and Kathlynn rushed to the panel depicting space. Looking behind as they gained the ribbon conveyor, the Earthers only saw that perverted suit flex its limbs, moving nowhere, but moving. Then the panel closed.
“It’s tangible now, isn’t it, Parno?” Kathlynn had to say. “What can a demon do to us when controlling our own technols?”
He didn’t have to think before replying. He only had to feel.
“That’s a ground suit, Kathlynn, not space armor. I bet I can find something in this ship to blow it to hell.”
“Let’s just blow ourselves to the island, Parno, and let the ghost have this hell.”
She concluded by looking over her shoulder. No demon followed. Not on that rug.
* * *
He only grunted once before giving up. After first tapping one of the upright “function retainers” to ensure his safety, Parno grabbed it with both hands, attempting to pull it away from the wall. He might have been trying to pull the wall itself.
“Won’t budge,” he sighed.
Kathlynn moved to the adjacent work suit, turned, and paused. Some anxiety showed on her face, no fear, as she stepped backwards against the alien suit, staring at Parno. The material wrapped around her at once with an odd combination of stiff and supple movements. When the upper portion closed around Kathlynn’s head, Parno felt intense trepidation, for her gaze against him vanished. In that moment, she disappeared from his life, obscured, if not eaten, by an alien shape. In the following moment, however, the headpiece turned transparent, and Kathlynn’s gaze returned. The wrong gaze, for she looked nowhere placidly. Though Parno remained standing directly before her, Kathlynn focused beyond.
He stood away, careful to avoid those static shapes on the floor, waiting for Kathlynn to walk. That had been their final, clearest intent: Kathlynn would enter and move a suit without delay, proceeding to the safety of the loo.
Waiting, Parno recalled. When first in the alien function retainer, Kathlynn’s sense of time had not corresponded to reality. How long would he have to wait?
He stepped to the adjacent vertical suit. Touching the material, he felt no flexibility. He might have been touching cast atommetal. Tapping on the wall, then fingering the suit, he thought and felt the satisfaction of removing the item, but the alien suit and vessel and universe ignored him. Retreating, he looked to Kathlynn. She remained unchanged. He found her face uncomfortable to view.
“Don’t step on those,” Parno said aloud, pointing to the floor. He then left the compartment, the “process margin.”
Looking to either void end, then to the entry panel, he saw no danger. Since the smoke ghost had donned the Earth ground suit, could the creature now follow along the ribbon conveyor? Should Parno expect it to step through the entry panel? Whatever its physical form and direction of approach, the ghost would assault them again, Parno knew. He did not know how he would respond. In that moment, his strongest emotion was guilt. When the ghost last threatened, Parno had considered running away, abandoning Kathlynn.
He returned to the process margin. Kathlynn had not changed. Parno stepped to within inches of her function retainer. Though looking closely to her face, he could not discern if she were breathing. Even an Earth suit, however, could seep air into a person’s lungs, retaining adequate respiration indefinitely. But that was true of a human in a Terran suit. The combination Parno now viewed was alien.
“Kathlynn, can you tell me what’s going on?”
Evidently not.
“Kathlynn, are you trying to move in the suit?”
Not according to her null rejoinder.
He stepped outside, looking quickly, repeatedly, for the smoke ghost. Seeing nothing, he returned. Inside, he waited. Looking down to the prostrate suits, he considered kicking one, just to see what would happen.
“Kathlynn, if you don’t do something suggestive of life and/or activity within the next several alien-norm seconds,” he loudly demanded, “I am grabbing your bosom—do you understand?”
…Four, three, two, one….
He threw himself against the nearest suit, not thinking of removing Kathlynn, but feeling desperate to retrieve her. In the next moment, the two Earthers stood together. Erect, Parno felt that he had returned to work from a vacation. He had no sense of time’s passage, but something had passed. Beside him, Kathlynn stood bent, rigid, breathing normally, staring in concentration. Parno only waited.
“Earthers are worthless,” she finally blurted.
Kathlynn straightened, still not looking directly to Parno.
“Kathlynn, are you all right?”
“Uh
, yes…. This is strange.”
Parno stepped from the process margin, saw no danger, then returned.
“Kathlynn, do you need to rest?”
“No, I just need to…reorient. I’m coming around.”
Pressing the hair from her forehead, Kathlynn took a step—and Parno thrust his hand against her upper chest.
“Kathlynn, don’t orient yourself on that suit down there.”
She looked to the floor, adjusted her balance, then stepped to a clear area.
“I think I know what to do,” she said.
“Excellent. The spirits of righteousness praise your success. What do we do? Why are Earthers so worthless?”
“An inhabitant could do this alone.”
“An ‘inhabitant’?”
“An inhabitant of this vessel, Parno.”
She then looked more alive, speaking with vigor.
“Parno, that is a huge airlock. An inhabitant of authority could open it, from the creativity cusp,” she said, and briskly stepped away.
Moving past the vertical function retainers, she kicked at the perpendicular wall, toe height, and nubs formed on the surface. Square and metallic, irregular and roundish, apparent-plas, and unknown, stretched materials. Kathlynn grabbed a shape, pulled, and the nubs extended into a stiff, translucent rod, a limp length of material like the folds of a ball gown, a dense collection of strings like hair from an alien orangutan….
She pulled this, pushed that, kneed another, and nothing happened.
“If I were an inhabitant, the interchange domain would now cycle and the inner door open,” she said. “But I don’t have the correct ‘authority.’ I can’t quite translate that idea, but it doesn’t deal with any legal or political system.”
“What’s an ‘interchange domain’?” Parno had to ask.
“Airlock.”
“I shoulda knowed. Now what do we do?”
“I’ll stay here. You go to the guidance cell, and I’ll tell you what to do.”
“Kathlynn, I should go to the what?”
“The panel with the symbols leads there. It’s rather the vessel’s control room. But not exactly.”
“Kathlynn, you just did a bunch of technol pushing and pulling with no preparation, no thought.”
“I learned how to do it, Parno, but I don’t completely understand.”
“But how will you convey that learning to me, especially when we’re separated?”
Her eyes opened so wide, Parno thought she saw the smoke ghost over his shoulder. But she looked only to him.
“Oh, Parno, Earthers truly are worthless. All you have to do is enter the suit, concentrate on learning how to cycle the airlock, then we’ll both know, and we’ll get out of this hell in moments!”
“Kathlynn, you look like a little girl when you get all enthusiastic. I love it, but little-girl Earthers are worthless. Here’s why: when you were in the suit, why didn’t you leave? I had to get you out again.”
“I don’t like that question,” she said, looking away in concentration. “When I stepped against the suit, I only wanted to move it. But I didn’t learn anything about moving it. I didn’t learn anything about unwrapping the suit. How did you remove me?”
“I’m more honest than you.”
“Parno, please stop being so Earther worthless and explain.”
“When I entered the suit, my deepest intent was to get you out. When you entered your suit, your ostensible idea was to move the suit, but your deepest intent was to escape this alien hole.”
“What are you saying, Parno?”
“I’m saying that I don’t want either of us to be trapped in an alien device. Remember the suit I opened, the one containing hell? Kathlynn, if I enter one of these suits, can you get me out?”
Kathlynn’s combination of emotions was perfectly normal.
“Parno, I would do anything to get you out!” she blurted, looking into his eyes during that moment before their embrace.
They moved together, Kathlynn with a gasp of fear, Parno inhaling a deep breath of longing. They embraced with no word, pulling themselves together, melding into an embodied emotion not even a spirit could translate into words.
Parno pulled away. He continued moving, backwards.
“It’s time to rocket roll, darlin’,” he smiled, and stepped against the alien suit.
She watched it surround him. Watched the fabric smother his face. Watched his face reappear. Watched the suit split at the seams and lay flat against the wall again.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Uh…nothing.”
“Did you learn anything?”
“Uh…nope. It was like yawning. It takes a bit of time and effort, but doesn’t tell you anything. I’m trying again.”
This time, he utilized another suit, but achieved the same, vapid results. Even when wrapping on Kathlynn’s function retainer, Parno found himself rejected after a moment.
“I don’t understand,” Kathlynn seethed.
Parno looked at the row of work suits. They all seemed the same. Then he rushed outside. Terrified, Kathlynn did not follow.
“Just checking on the ghost,” he explained. “We’re safe for now.”
“I’m not sure why you failed with the function retainers,” Kathlynn admitted.
Parno offered a presumptive explication.
“It’s a bad translation or something. Evidently, I can’t convince the suit that I want to do anything but get the hell out of here. Maybe the suit thinks I’m trying to get the hell out of it. Maybe I caused a prejudice in the suits’ alien thinking because I was panicked when I first entered. I was desperate to get you out, and the suit won’t listen to anything else. I guess. You’re the alien expert. I’m just a worthless Earther.”
Her face stretched strangely due to both hands pulling on her hairline hard enough to turn her face alien.
“I don’t want to wait any longer,” Kathlynn seethed, harshly dropping both hands from her head. “Parno, I think we can do it now. You go to the guidance cell, and I’ll tell you what to do from here.”
“How will we communicate?”
She almost smirked. Walking to the wall with the technol extensions—the “creativity cusp”—Kathlynn fondly grasped a cable that resembled the ligament of an alien elephant, if made of plasmetal.
“If you were in the guidance cell now,” she declared, “you would be hearing me.”
He stepped to the door.
“I’m ready to go.”
“Run along, run along,” she urged, waving both hands as though to sweep him out with her fingers.
“What if the ghost comes here while I’m gone?”
“What if the ghost goes to you instead?”
“I don’t have to answer that question. I’ll run away from it instead.”
Parno turned, took one long stride, then ran back to Kathlynn, his face stern.
Outside, of course, the death ghost awaited them.
No, the attacking creature stood inside the compartment. Not an alien, his assault was purely human. Perfectly human.
Parno walked to Kathlynn, taking her head in his hands. Stroking her temples, he looked to her as though he would never see her again.
“Kathlynn, I don’t want to be away from you. I don’t mean chamber to chamber. I mean never again in my life can I bear to spend a moment without you.”
Placing both hands on his waist, Kathlynn stared up to him, stared into his eyes, looking deeper. The finest searching looks are those that reveal.
“Parno, as soon as I get you out of here, I am asking you for a major date. You have a lot of explaining to do about your official activities on the island, but that can wait for another haunting.”
Then they kissed, not passionately but perfectly, proving themselves creatures with spirits by expressing the potentials of love.
Parno turned and ran away without stumbling over the first alien work suit. Kathlynn watched his feet move quickly past those dark for
ms; then he was gone. Kathlynn could not know of his progress, but seconds later, she still stared down to the floor. Dark forms, function retainers…. These suits contained people. Now corpses. Those people had been alive. They had worked and strived and loved exactly as she and Parno, but had not survived their journey to Kapnos. If this grand society had failed, how could the worthless Earthers succeed?
Parno succeeded in traversing the rubbery floor without tripping, though his strides caused a bounding that his ankles found unsettling. On the ribbon conveyor, he found frustration. He could not run on this surface. He could step ahead, lifting one foot and stretching that leg as though immersed in the densest mud. He also found loneliness. Kathlynn was alone. He had managed to abandon her, though not from cowardice.
In the lobby, he first looked to the greenhouse door. One Earther suit remained on the lahar. Parno did not see the second. He did not see the ghost. No pressing clutches of dead hands reaching for his life intruded against any panel. Running to the door with symbols, he moved through, and the ribbon pulled him away. Up and down, curving left, right, continuing, Parno found himself alone, rejected by his favorite fem.
The ribbon conveyor pressed him through the wall. Within the ‘guidance cell,’ bodies awaited him. With his first step inside, Parno considered retreating, leaping backwards in order to escape. Escape those upright aliens standing before repetitive apparatus, like submarine commanders from World War II at their periscopes. But these bodies were static. The headpiece of every function retainer had turned opaque. Parno understood that this opacity indicated not an empty suit, but one devoid of life.
These were ghosts, he knew. Though less deadly than the smoke ghost, these suits held the remains of murdered people, their bodies not allowed to rest. Parno hoped not to disturb their spirits, or confront them.
“Kathlynn, I’m in the guidance cell,” he spoke loudly.
She spoke in return, and Parno walked to the vertical station emitting her voice. Her alien voice. Parno recognized Kathlynn’s sound, but the words came in a language no Earther had heard before.
Though confident that the suits would not attack him, Parno moved discreetly past, not from fear, but from respect. Do not step on the graves in an alien cemetery.
