by J. J. Green
“The first half of this morning’s session is devoted to becoming accustomed to moving in a liquid,” said Errruorerrrrrhch. “Several galactic civilisations are aquatic, as I’m sure you are aware, and while some of you are very familiar with this environment, others may need some practice at effective locomotion. You are expected to maintain your swimming skills through regular training for the duration of your employment.”
Audrey bumped lazily into Carrie and she pushed her away, giggling. This session was going to be fun.
“After break you will perform underwater tasks,” said Errruorerrrrrhch. “These tasks assess your physical agility and strength. Neither skill is essential for the performance of your duties, but they may at times prove useful in the diverse situations an Officer experiences.”
Errruorerrrrrhch continued speaking, but Carrie was already idly swimming across the pool. She had heard all the important stuff. When she returned, Errruorerrrrrhch had left and Dave was in the pool again. He was standing in the corner looking cold while the other trainees were frolicking around him. Carrie couldn’t help but feel a small, guilty surge of pleasure at his predicament. But he was still her friend, and it was she who had persuaded him to attend the training. She swam up to him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
Her friend shook his head. “There’s no point. I’ll never learn to swim in a single morning. I thought I’d try, but I don’t know what to do. I might as well get out and tell Errruorerrrrrhch I can’t do it.”
“Don’t give up before you’ve started. Learning to swim is really important, even if you don’t work for the Transgalactic Council. Come over here with me.” Dave followed her out into deeper water. “Now, hold my hands, and start kicking with your feet.” She gripped his hands as he lifted his feet off the floor and began to move them. “Wait, hold on.” She tightened her grip. “Okay, try again.” Once more he kicked. “Erm...could you stop for a minute?” As her friend stood on the pool floor, she looked down at his legs and feet. “How are you doing it?”
“Doing what?”
“How are you kicking? You’re going backwards.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re pulling me towards you. You should be pushing me away.”
Dave sighed. “It’s no good. I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can. Let’s try again.”
“Okay, if you like. But it’s a waste of time.”
Carrie grabbed Dave’s hands and pulled him gently forward as he kicked. She also helped him practise trying to float, and taught him the movements for breaststroke and front crawl. She couldn’t remember learning to swim and had always been a natural in the water, so she wasn’t sure if she was teaching Dave the right way, but after half an hour or so he managed a few strokes.
“Brilliant,” she exclaimed. “Well done.”
Dave wiped water from his face. “Thanks,” he said, “but I don’t think I’ll be winning any championships just yet.”
“We all have to start somewhere.” The other trainees were getting out of the water. “It must be nearly break time.”
“Yeah. I think I’ll ask Errruorerrrrrhch if I can skip the second half. I’m never going to be able to do underwater stuff.”
“You never know until you try.” Carrie actually thought Dave was probably right, but she wanted to be encouraging. As she pulled herself up onto the side, however, the sight that greeted her made her wonder if Dave might be able to join in after all. In a corner of the swimming area was a pile of bright orange wetsuits.
***
While the trainees were getting ready for the second session, a mechanical, grinding sound came from the pool. The floor was sliding back, revealing a lower level much deeper than the first. Dave was looking pale. “Don’t worry,” said Carrie, “it looks like we’ll be diving. You don’t have to worry about sinking because you’re already underwater. But where’s our scuba gear?” Carrie lifted up a helmet. It had an elongated snout, like a dog’s muzzle. There was no sign of any masks or gas cylinders.
“If you are unable to breathe in water, place your respiration tablets in the receptacle in your helmets, and check that you can breathe normally before entering the pool,” said Errruorerrrrrhch.
Respiration tablets? Carrie frowned. What did the Manager mean? Most of the other trainees were slipping directly into the water without the need for any artificial breathing device. Dave was searching through his Liaison Officer’s toolbox.
“Is this it?” He held up the item that Carrie had thought looked like a dishwasher tablet. The item that she had opened and broken.
“Yes,” said Errruorerrrrrhch. “Take it out of its wrapper and place it in the receptacle in your helmet. The tablet supplies your oxygen needs and removes carbon dioxide from the gases you exhale.”
Dave looked sidelong at Carrie’s forlorn face. “Actually,” he said to Errruorerrrrrhch. “Is it okay if I sit this out? I’m a terrible swimmer.” He passed his unopened tablet to Carrie.
Carrie sighed as she pushed his hand away. She couldn’t let her friend cover up for her stupid mistakes, and she didn’t want him to give up on learning to swim.
“Errruorerrrrrh, I don’t have my respirator tablet. I opened it earlier. I’m sorry.”
The alien chittered. “I will request another from Supplies. Please wait for it to be delivered.”
“Honestly, Carrie, you can have mine,” said Dave as Errruorerrrrrhch left. “I’ve had enough for today. I don’t want to get in there again, especially not to go diving.”
Pulling on her wetsuit, Carrie replied, “Look, you did so well in the first session. Don’t stop now. Learning to swim is actually harder than diving. When you’re swimming, you have to use your arms and legs at the same time. Under water you just kick your legs to move around. No strokes or anything like that.”
Dave grimaced as he peered at the trainees who were sinking to the bottom of the pool. Carrie looked down too. There seemed to be an obstacle course down there. “I don’t know,” said Dave. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Then now’s a good time to start,” said Carrie brightly. “Come on, you’ve actually enjoyed yourself a bit so far, haven’t you?”
Her friend nodded. “It’s been a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”
Probably because you’re ninety-seven per cent suited to being a Liaison Officer, thought Carrie. A small robot carrier bearing a respirator tablet appeared at her side.
“Okay, I’ll give it a try.”
Carrie smiled at her friend, her face tight.
Chapter Ten – Falling Out
Carrie swung her legs over the side of the top bunk and stretched pleasantly. She was sleeping well on the Council starship and had no worries about her dog, Rogue, or her cat, Toodles, missing her while she was away. When the Council sent her home via transgalactic gateway only a minute or two would have passed on Earth. Dave was already dressed and was combing his hair. The dirty clothes and other bits and bobs she had left on the floor had been mysteriously put away overnight.
“So, what are we doing today?” she asked.
Dave tutted. “Don’t tell me you still haven’t read the itinerary. We’ve been here four days.”
“I did read it. I’ve just forgotten,” Carrie lied. She’d intended to read the itinerary. She just hadn’t got around to it yet.
Checking his face for stubble, her friend said, “All it says for today is ‘practical training’.”
She jumped down with a thump. “I wonder what that is. Seems like most things we’ve done so far have been practical. Maybe I can ask Gavin at breakfast if he’s there. I haven’t seen him recently.” Carrie bent down to pick up a small green object that had fallen from underneath Dave’s bunk when she jumped.
“He’s got his work cut out with his nightmare kids, I should think,” said Dave. “That and preventing their mother from snacking on them at break.” He shuddered.
“What’s this?” Carrie
gasped and turned, wide-eyed, to her friend. In her hand was the small green object. It was one of the weapons they had trained with.
Dave looked away quickly. “Wow, where did that come from?”
“Dave,” Carrie exclaimed. “you know full well where it came from. It just fell from your bed. When did you take it? When we were training?”
“Well, thanks a lot for jumping to conclusions! You don’t know I took it.”
“You do have a bit of history of that kind of thing, you know. And how would it get here otherwise? Why on Earth did you take a weapon? They’re incredibly dangerous. You’ll have to give it back.”
“Not if I didn’t take it,” replied her friend, his nostrils flaring.
“Of course you did. Stop playing games. You could get me into trouble too. Did you think about that?” Carrie exclaimed, her heart racing at the realisation that her friend had put her job at risk.
“Well, of all the cheek. Just because I have a medical condition I’m suddenly responsible for stealing every random item you come across.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m only here because of you. I’ve been to all the training exercises, even spending hours in a freezing swimming pool. I’ve put up with your disgusting habits all week—”
“DISGUSTING.”
“Yes, disgusting. Strands of hair left in the sink, yesterday’s clothes lying on the floor, rubbish scattered about. In all the times I’ve visited you at home, Carrie, I never said anything about your flat. Your place, your rules, I thought. But I’m telling you now that, frankly, it’s awful. I know you have pets, but that’s no excuse.”
“How dare you. I might be a little messy, but I am NOT disgusting. And at least I don’t have OCD. Arranging all my possessions in a neat little pattern every night.” She screwed up her eyes and nose as she mimicked placing objects on a surface. “Everything in EXACTLY the same place. Honestly, Dave, you’ll make some man a lovely HOUSEKEEPER someday. AND I’ve noticed your disgust doesn’t stop you from eating me out of house and home whenever you’re over. Biscuits don’t grow on trees you know.”
Dave’s eyes widened and his mouth formed an O. “IF I ate all your biscuits, which I DON’T, I’d be doing you a favour,” he exclaimed. “You could do WITHOUT eating so many biscuits if you ask me.” He poked her in the belly.
Carrie drew in a great breath of air, ready to explode with indignation. But her outrage was so great she couldn’t speak. Her mouth worked, but the words wouldn’t come, and she stood rigid, glaring at Dave with her hands clenched and her mouth wide open.
Dave glared back at her. “Yes? Was there something you wanted to say?”
Still words couldn’t convey Carrie’s ire, and she closed and opened her mouth like a fish out of water. She looked so comical, Dave’s anger melted and his lips twitched as he tried to prevent a smile. Seeing this, a great snort of laughter burst from Carrie, and she grabbed her mouth. Her friend also began to chuckle, and soon guffaws gripped them both until they were weeping with mirth. They clung to each other as they laughed.
Finally Carrie caught her breath enough to speak. She wiped her eyes as she said, “Seriously, though, what are you going to do with it? You can’t keep it here.”
Sighing, Dave replied, “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”
Carrie sat down on his bed and turned the weapon over in her hands. “It is an amazing thing, isn’t it? So small, and yet powerful enough to penetrate a placktoid.” Dave sat beside her. Carrie looked at him from the corners of her eyes. “You haven’t taken anything else, have you?”
“Of course not,” he exclaimed. When Carrie’s eyes didn’t move, his facial muscles relaxed. “I haven’t, honestly.”
“The thing is, I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re such a together person. You’re so level-headed and sensible. You don’t seem to have any baggage or problems. People with kleptomania are messed up in some way, as far as I understand it.”
Dave shrugged. “I don’t know that I really have kleptomania. I’ve never been diagnosed. I just find certain things irresistibly fascinating. Neat, complex, clever things, you know? And there’s a challenge to it—taking things without anyone noticing, I mean. It’s such a thrill to succeed. I don’t thing it’s such a bad thing to do. I never keep anything for long. I always put back whatever I’ve taken, eventually.”
Carrie watched her friend closely as he spoke. This was a side to him she had never seen. When he stopped she smiled and gave him a sideways shove with her shoulder. “There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there? I wonder what Gavin would have to say if he knew you were a closet thrill-seeker. You’re supposed to be the one who keeps me grounded.”
“I am sensible most of the time.” He took the weapon from her hand. “Not sure what I’m going to do now, though. I suppose I’ll have to 'fess up. I doubt I’ll be able to put it back without being seen. And it wouldn’t be right to take it back home with me.”
“Don’t tell them. You’ll get kicked off the programme.” Carrie frowned. “I know. Leave it somewhere. Somewhere it’ll be found quickly.”
“That’s no good. They’ll know someone stole it, and they’ll test the DNA on it and find out it was me. I don’t know how to clean it to make sure there’s no trace of anything left.”
“Doesn’t matter. Your DNA—and mine, now—your DNA being on it doesn’t prove anything. We were all taking weapons out of that store. All the weapons have trainees’ DNA on them.”
Putting his hand slowly to his chin, Dave nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Okay, it’s worth a try. Maybe I could find a place in the canteen or another communal room where I can put it.” He stood.
“Do it now, before we go to the practical training session.”
But her friend was looking away from the door and towards a wall. “Too late. Look at that. I thought it was only a mirror.” He was looking at the communication screen. Carrie leaned out from the bunk to read the message.
ARRIVED AT GAGINION. REPORT TO THE LEVEL 2 CENTRAL AIRLOCK FOR PRACTICAL TRAINING.
She leaped up. “We’re on a planet. That’s what they meant by practical training.”
“Of course,” said Dave. “The itinerary didn’t go into any detail.”
“All this time we thought we were just floating in space, we’ve been travelling somewhere,” Carrie exclaimed. “I wonder what it looks like.” She ran to the cabin window and ripped off the T-shirt Dave had hung over it. The sight that greeted her made her stagger back. Beyond the starship was not the alien landscape she had expected.
Slowly, she returned to the window and pressed her face against the surface, flattening her nose. She gazed out into an aquatic, shadowy expanse. Pale green, rippling light came from above, lighting the area around the ship for a short distance. Beyond was darkness, where Carrie could make out only vague, moving shapes. She looked down into black, seemingly bottomless depths.
“Bloody hell,” said Dave.
Chapter Eleven – Carrie’s Off
“Gaginion is home to seventeen sentient species,” Errruorerrrrrhch explained to the trainees waiting at the airlock, wearing wetsuits or only their Transgalactic Liaison Officer swimsuits as appropriate to their species. Carrie and Dave, as humans, needed the protection of wetsuits against the chill water. “The predominant species, marsoliie, have divided into two factions, Singles and Groups. The Singles have applied to the Council for mediation with the Group marsoliie—”
“The same species?” asked Carrie.
“Yes, the same species. The information is on your briefing device. We were uncertain whether we would be able to provide this training until very recently, and we uploaded the necessary details only this morning. Please take a moment to read through all the information before leaving on your assignment. You have plenty of time. But to give you an overview, Group marsoliie believe their species is most successful, happy and fulfilled when conjoined with others of their species, in groups of indiscriminate numbers. Th
e Groups believe they evolved to exist together once they have reached maturity, and that living as a Single once adulthood is attained is an unnatural, abhorrent and unhealthy practice.
“Single marsoliie, as is often the case in intracultural disputes, believes the exact opposite: that living as a Single organism is the normal and natural state of affairs—”
“Can’t they just live and let live?” Carrie asked. “I mean, the Singles live alone and the Groups join up?”
A pause followed this second interruption, and the trainees turned to look at Carrie.
“IF I could explain,” continued Errruorerrrrrhch, “the central problem seems to reside in the fact that the Group marsoliie feel they must help the Single marsoliie to a better life by capturing them and adding them to their number. This physical coercion is obviously illegal, but it is very difficult to prove. Once a Single’s neural network is joined to the Group, it retains no memory of itself as a Single, but instead it remembers, thinks and feels as one of the Group.”
“Oh, I see,” said Carrie.
Errruorerrrrrhch turned her giant insect head towards her, waited a moment, and continued. “Though the marsoliie have achieved interstellar travel, they employ little technology in their day-to-day lives. Neither do they have any centralised government nor legal system. Disputes are resolved on a case-by-case basis within communities. These small, local disputes are happening across the planet. Though serious, the Council does not currently have the staff numbers to address the issue. Therefore, we deemed this liaison request as an appropriate practical training exercise for new Officers.
“Your assignment is essentially to attend community talks between the Singles and Groups and ensure there is fair play. A further reason we have chosen this assignment for you is that the Unity soldiers who are currently doing all they can to protect the Single marsoliie from assimilation are spread extremely thin, due to the placktoid threat. Your presence should be a further deterrent.”
