Do No Harm

by Chris Kennedy

  “Really!” Corum said, straightening up. “Why all the way to Earth?”

  “I’ve watched all the cooking shows I can. I want to study where the great chefs have studied. Wrogul live long lives. I believe I can visit every culinary academy on Earth and still have time to apprentice with some of the best Master Chefs. I want to study molecular gastronomy with the great professors and scientists of Earth. I even want to have my own cooking show with Food Network.”

  “That’s quite ambitious, Marinara,” added JJ. “Is Meryll going with you?”

  Marinara looked over at his friend, who shook her head sadly.

  “I can’t,” she said quietly. “I have to finish my own studies, and mine is more of the business path. Management of the food industry, the business of cooking. I want to finish my master’s degree before I tackle anything on Earth. Marinara is quick in his studies. My path is a little slower.”

  “That’s hard to imagine. The two of you separated—” JJ began.

  “Not for long!” Marinara interjected. “Meryll will join me as soon as she can. I will count the days until she is with me again.”

  “More like months,” Meryll muttered under her breath. “More like months,” she said a little louder. “Wrogul don’t have the same sense of time as Humans do.”

  Marinara flashed sadness.

  “It will pass quickly,” Corum said kindly.

  * * *

  The going away party was winding down and Marinara’s closest friends were about to take their leave.

  “I can’t believe you’re traveling to Earth,” Meryll said with a sniff. “You have pinplants and access to the Galnet. Why do you have to leave? Can’t you stay here and teach classes here, since you’ve learned so much?”

  Marinara rolled one of his eyes toward his best friend. His chromophores flashed impatience.

  “I need arms-on learning,” he said. “It is one thing to read recipes and watch videos, but I want to learn every Earth method of cooking and baking that I can. Learning Italian cuisine here on Azure is not the same as learning it with access to all of Earth’s native vegetables and proteins. Sure, Azure grows rice, and our seas produce fish and shrimp, but I want to make sushi with Earth aquatic animals, real Terran seaweed, and authentic Japanese sauces. I have so many tastes and seasonings to explore.”

  “Please be careful,” Corum commented. “There are strange rumors and things going on. I see things on the darker nets. Financial problems…illnesses. And you will be an alien presence on Earth. Humans don’t see a lot of aliens on their own planet.”

  Marinara blinked. “But I am Human.”

  Meryll shot a glance at Corum and shook her head slightly.

  JJ cut in, “We know, Marinara, but remember the Humans on Earth don’t see Wrogul quite like we do, here on Azure. Earth Humans are likely to think you’re like the Earth cephalopods and the octopus in their seas.”

  A snrk-snrk came from Marinara’s translator. “I don’t even look like an Earth octopus. And other Azure Wrogul have visited Earth. The Humans will know who we are.”

  “Where will you start your classes?” JJ asked.

  Marinara flashed a sigh. “It is difficult. France. The United States. Japan. I want to try all three. But I think I am going to start in New York. In America, there are many cities and even more schools. I have settled on New York. Meryll helped me find an apartment, and we advertised for an aide who will help me with transportation and negotiating the New York streets. New York is the home of many top chefs. Wylie Dufresne had a restaurant there, as did the inimitable Bobby Flay.”

  Meryll sighed. “Just be safe, okay? Keep in touch. Message us regularly about your classes and what you’re learning.”

  Marinara flashed fondness with his chromophores. “I hope your mother will let you come to Earth when you graduate. I will cook for you, and you will be my food taster.” His friends moved toward the door of his cottage as he rolled his tank across the floor. “I will be safe, my friends. I will become famous as the ‘Wrogul chef from Azure.’ I will be the Bobby Flay of grilling, the Seiji Yamamoto of molecular gastronomy. I will own my own restaurant and host my own Iron Chef show!”

  * * *

  Marinara’s friends laughed and said their good-byes with promises to keep in touch. He locked his cottage door behind them and eyed the resting tank. Should he check his trunks now or wait until the morning for a last-minute review? He had just decided to check everything in the morning when he heard a furtive knock on the door. Puzzled, he decided one of friends must have left something behind and inched his way across the floor to the door.

  “Yes?” he asked quietly.

  “Mari, let me in. I need to speak with you.”

  “Grandfather?” Marinara flashed surprise, and he quickly opened the door.

  “You leave for Earth tomorrow, correct?” Harryhausen ignored his translator and flashed his question to his offspring.

  “Y-e-e-es.” Marinara flashed slowly. “How nice to see you, too.”

  “No time for niceties,” Harryhausen flashed. “I shouldn’t be here. But I want you to be careful during your stay on Earth. Send me regular messages so I know you’re safe. Keep your eyes open. Be aware of your surroundings. Listen to conversations.”

  “I do not understand.” Marinara resorted to the translator. “I am only going to study the culinary arts. There should be no danger in that. I am good in the kitchen. I will not slip with the chopping knife or boil my arm.”

  The equivalent of a snort sounded through Harryhausen’s translator. “Not that! There are strange rumors about. Many Galactics speak badly about the Earth Humans. Just be careful. Listen to conversations. Watch for anything unusual. I must go now. Do not speak of me to anyone.”

  Marinara flashed puzzlement. “I will do as you say. But I have never been to Earth. How will I know what is unusual?”

  But Harryhausen was gone. His motorized tank had slipped away, making no sound.

  “Wow,” thought Marinara to himself. “I would like to have one of those.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Three

  “I would like to have one of those, and one of those, and one of those…” Marinara waved with one arm toward the solar grill while two other arms pointed toward sets of cutting boards. “I will also need a tank to keep my aquatic food fresh.” He had packed as many of his cooking instruments as possible but had known he would have to buy the bigger items when he reached Earth.

  “Th-th-the lobster tank?” The sales youth stammered as he stared at the strange alien in front of him.

  “Lobster, octopus, squid…whatever I need for sushi. I need fresh seafood.”

  “Bu-but you’re an octopus, aren’t you?” The sales youth dropped his voice. “Are you a cannibal?”

  Marinara’s turquoise eyes rolled and flashed. “I am not an Earth cephalopod! I am of the race called Wrogul! From the planet Azure! Do I look like an octopus?” His translator broadcast so loudly the other sales clerks stopped what they were doing and turned to stare.

  An older man stepped out of an interior door and walked over to the counter. “Is there a problem? I’m the floor manager. Can I help you?”

  Marinara hung over the side of his motorized tank and rolled toward the older Human.

  “I simply wish to purchase some items for my cooking classes. I recently enrolled at the nearby culinary arts school and your supply shop was closest. I will gladly pay for delivery to my domicile, whatever you choose to charge.”

  The older Human began to stammer, too, at the size of the order, then hesitantly asked, “But do you have the credits?”

  Marinara reached with one arm to the pouch sealed to his tank. “My yack is in here. It should be sufficient.”

  An hour later, Marinara headed out the shop’s door, paperwork stuffed in the messenger bag attached to his tank, hundreds of credits poorer. He had paid to have the grill assembled before delivery, not to mention express delivery for the following day.<
br />
  Outside the restaurant supply store, his aide, Michael, waited and smiled when he saw the flashing excitement from the Wrogul’s chromophores.

  “Master Marinara, I take it you were successful?”

  “Yes, Michael Caparelli. Thank you for bringing me to this New York retail shop. I must admit it still surprises me when Earthlings, particularly Americans, are faced with my looks. You have never reacted as they have.”

  “I’m fortunate to be your aide, Master Marinara. You pay me a significant salary to be your assistant. And I enjoy the travel and the challenges. France was quite an educational vacation. Italy was a bit scary. But I think New York will be the real challenge with its multi-culturalism.”

  * * *

  When Marinara had arrived on Earth, it had been evident he would need an assistant to help him negotiate the transports of the cities and academies. He had encountered quite a few repugnant looks, not to mention a rash of xenophobic behavior in the Human cities and villages that saw few aliens. Michael had been hired to function as a go-between, and he was enjoying the position. Before settling in for school, Marinara and Michael had traveled to France and Italy to sample the cuisine and visit the schools and restaurants. Marinara had hoped master chefs would make themselves available to meet with the Wrogul and answer his questions. Unfortunately, very few did.

  Michael’s brother had gone to space with a merc company and had taught Michael about the behavior of the different alien races. While some aliens expressed outright disdain for Humans, his brother told him the Wrogul who lived on the Human colony of Azure embraced all things Human. His merc company had stopped at Azure on their way to a contract for provisioning. When they returned, they stopped to take advantage of the famous hospital to treat their badly injured members. He assured Michael the Wrogul were smart and honest, and that the proffered job opportunity would allow him to learn a lot about how aliens think and act, which would be useful to his political science and eventual law degree when he resumed classes. Michael just had to get accustomed to the Wrogul’s alien looks and stop thinking of him as an octopus.

  “He asks a lot of questions,” Michael told his brother. “He’s always asking about Earth politics, and who’s who. He always wants to discuss Earth history and why we act and think the way we do.”

  “The Wrogul are super intelligent,” his brother responded. “I heard they’re fascinated with anything to do with Earth, since that’s where the Azure colonists came from. It’s probably just curiosity about Earth being the parent planet. Besides, you’re a poli-sci major. He probably figures that stuff interests you and is just being nice.”

  Michael returned with Marinara to their brownstone apartment near the culinary school. The maintenance supervisor had helped Michael rig a ramp to the steps so Marinara was able to zip up to his ground floor apartment. Michael was able to get a studio apartment across the hall so he was always available to assist the Wrogul around the city. Marinara preferred to motor his mobile tank down the streets to the culinary academy, but Michael insisted on shuttling the alien to his classes. Marinara may not have thought he was susceptible to xenophobic attacks, but Michael was concerned xenophobes would decide to teach the alien “a lesson” for living on Earth. He also tried to explain that while rainstorms weren’t an issue to the Wrogul, snowstorms could cripple the city and make the sidewalks all but impassable.

  During the trip home, he discussed the schedules for the upcoming classes. “And what is all the equipment for?”

  Marinara flashed pleasure. “Cooking for my friends,” the translator blurted. “I want to share learned dishes with friends. I love fresh sushi, and the salt water tank will keep my sea creatures alive. And the grill! I look forward to what you call barbecue. I want to try grilled brisket dishes for my friends, and grilled fowl, and grilled ribs, and—”

  Michael smiled in return. “I look forward to the dinner invitations. I’ve never had brisket.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  A few days later Marinara rolled across the hallway to Michael’s apartment. Using two arms to pound on the door, Marinara exclaimed, “Michael! Michael!”

  A bleary-eyed Michael answered the door. “Wassup, Dude? It’s four in the morning. Is something wrong?”

  “It’s my sister!” Marinara’s excitement bled through the translator. “My friend Meryll is coming to see me. She’s arriving on the shuttle from Azure in three days!”

  “Dude, your sister? Another you? Who is this Meryll?

  “Silly bipedal.” Marinara laughed. “My best friend from Azure. We grew up together, although she is older than me. We attended classes together. She watched the old Earth Tri-V cooking shows with me. She is the daughter of Emma Lee and my best friend in the whole Galactic Union!”

  “I’m happy for you, dude.” Michael yawned. “But can we talk about this later? I still have a couple hours sleep before we get you to the academy.”

  “Of course.” Marinara slid back into his tank, while muttering through the translator. “I have many plans to make. I must make lists. I need…”

  * * *

  The day arrived, and Marinara could barely contain his excitement. Michael had shuttled him to the fresh food markets, and he had stocked his seafood tank with lobster, squid, and an octopus for sushi and salad. Today they would visit the market again for tuna, salmon, and fresh shrimp. Buffalo steaks were marinating in the cooler, and fresh vegetables and eggs were chilling.

  He was torn between veal saltimbocca or grilled buffalo steaks, although Michael had tried to talk him into waiting until Meryll had become accustomed to Earth gravity and atmosphere, particularly the pollutants in the air and humidity, before plying her with lots of food. He decided to play it safe and went with the steaks, just in case she wanted more. Eel sauce was chilling, and he would begin rice later in the morning for the sushi. He had prepared yeast breads, which were in the proving drawers for later baking. Desserts—now there was a dilemma. He wasn’t sure what Meryll would wish to eat. In his time on Earth, he had noticed many Human women eschewed sweet desserts, even the simple cake and fruit sauce ones. But then it was rare Humans that ate the type of food he prepared. Most of their meals consisted of vat-derived or liquid proteins and synthesized vegetable look-alikes.

  Michael had warned him there was too much food for one—or two—Humans, but Marinara had laughed. Meryll was his best friend and would eat everything he made. Michael commented all the fresh food he was purchasing was extremely expensive, but again Marinara laughed and pulled his yack out of the mobile tank’s pouch.

  “I have credits, Michael.”

  “Yeah, you have credits, but on Earth you need to be careful. Don’t flash your yack around so much. And learn to manage your money better. Make it last longer.”

  Marinara flashed puzzlement. “I have Meryll for that.”

  * * *

  Meryll arrived, and they waited for her to pass through customs. Marinara could barely contain himself. He heaved himself up over the edge of his tank repeatedly, then slid back in. Finally, they saw Meryll walking down the customs hallway, pulling her wheeled carry-all. She saw Marinara in his tank and sped up.

  “Meryll!” The squeal of joy sounded through his translator. Marinara heaved himself over the top of the tank and raised two arms to high-five his friend.

  “Marinara!” Meryll’s face flushed with pleasure. She reached forward, and Marinara’s arms wrapped around hers and pulled her closer.

  “I am so happy to see you, my friend.” His two eyes rolled wildly, and chromophores flashed pleasure and fondness. “I must tell you all about my travels and classes, and you must tell me all about Azure. Has anyone missed me? Have you finished your degree? Have the rest of my family remained on Azure or have they traveled off world. Have you heard from Nemo? Has anyone found Molina? Where is Harryhausen?”

  “Whoa, whoa, hold up!” Meryll laughed. “We’ve got a lot of time to catch up,” she said kindly. “I’ll tel
l you everything you want to know. But first, knowing you, Marinara, you probably have a feast prepared. And did you know you are a celebrity back in Styx Town? Everyone is talking about how our very own Marinara is going to make culinary history on Earth.”

  Marinara stopped rolling and looked closer at his friend. Her hair was pulled back in what they called a pony tail. “Your hair,” he prompted. “It’s longer and different.”

  “Yes, Marinara, it’s been a while.”

  * * *

  Marinara began picking up various plates and utensils, sliding them into the dish bin that would clean and sterilize the items. Surprisingly, Meryll had only opted for lobster tail and sushi for her Welcome to Earth meal. Marinara had acceded to her wishes and wrapped the steaks and froze them for later grilling. Michael reached for the half-empty bottle of red wine and topped off their glasses.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Harryhausen on Azure. He maintains a low profile with his Peacemaker position. Ridley is busy all the time.” Meryll sipped her wine. “And it shocked all of Azure when Nemo ended up with the Winged Hussars. Have you heard of them, Michael?”

  Michael nodded slowly. “My brother is with the Nightbirds. The Winged Hussars are one of the most successful merc companies on Earth. They’re one of the Four Horsemen. Cartwright’s Cavaliers, Asbaran Solutions, and the Golden Horde are the other three.”

  “Michael has taught me about the Earth mercenary companies. They are the bravest of the Union’s mercenaries. Evil aliens fear what the Humans can accomplish, and when a race needs the best protection possible, they call on the Humans!”

  Meryll’s eyes widened, and Michael flushed and looked down at the glass in his hands. Meryll hesitated, then spoke.