Tau Ceti (an Ell Donsaii story #6)

by Laurence Dahners

  “You got the laser acoustic pickup going!”

  “Yup.” Emma sat back and grinned.

  “Way to go!” The all sat back to listen to the sounds of the world they’d been watching silently for a while.

  Roger frowned, “Do all the sounds seem a little high pitched to you guys? I mean, even the sound of their footfalls sound high.” he turned to Emma, “Could you have an error in the algorithm?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Want to bet a dinner on it?”

  Roger narrowed his eyes, “Okaay.”

  Emma grinned at him. “It’s the increased air density. It raises the pitch and tamber of the sounds.” She leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, “I think I’d like to eat at… La Mez.”

  Roger laughed, glancing momentarily at Ell, then back at Emma, “OK, you’re on. I’ll take you and Ell both to dinner tonight.”

  Ell saw a brief disappointment flash over Emma’s face but winked at her, saying, “Hmmm, are you sure La Mez is expensive enough for us Emma?”

  Emma grinned back, “I think so,” she arched an eyebrow at Roger, “as long as he doesn’t call my skills into question again.”

  Roger laughed and leaned back, holding his palms up, “I surrender, I surrender. I have nothing but admiration for your ability to coax sound out of a rocket not intended for it anyway.”

  A loud series of squeaky sounds issued from the speakers. On the screen Silver turned to look at Goldy and more distant squeaking ensued. Daster tilted his head, “Is that them speaking?”

  “I’m pretty sure it is,” Emma said, “though they don’t open their mouths to do it.”

  “Wait, how do they make those sounds then?”

  Wheat said, “There’s no rule that says they have to bring air in through the same orifice they bring food in through. That’s the way we do it, but I think they pull air in through that dark spot at the base of their necks.”

  “But… that spot’s furry!”

  “Filters out dust?”

  Roger laughed, “OK, but then how do they clean the filter?”

  “If you watch them, they use those prehensile necks to reach their heads down to the base of their neck pretty frequently. I think they may be grooming their air intake.”

  “So you think they’re speaking out of that hole at the base of their necks?

  “No. I think that’s the air intake, I’m pretty sure they exhaust their air out of that opening on their lower chest. They pull air in, pass it through their lungs, and send it out the lower opening. More efficient exchange than pulling it in and out of the same windpipe like we do. Using the same passage results in some ‘dead air.’ They would be able to make sound better using the outgoing air at that lower vent than at the intake.”

  Emma said, “Hah! I’ve been noticing that they speak, or whatever you call it, continuously, without stopping to take a breath.” She tilted her head, “Perhaps I should say,” she got a devilish look on her face, “They ‘squeak’ continuously. I wondered how they could possibly do that, but if they’re constantly pumping air through…”

  Ell sighed, “We need another expert, this time to help us translate.”

  ***

  Roger found Emma and Ell at Emma’s workstation. “Hey, I thought I was buying you ladies dinner tonight?”

  They turned and smiled. Ell nudged Emma, “And here I thought he’d forgotten his debts.”

  Emma grinned up at Roger, “I’m the one he owes.”

  As they walked out to the parking lot Roger said, “That really was pretty cool, Emma, setting up the laser as an acoustic pickup off the window of the rocket.”

  “Almost as cool,” she grinned, “as figuring out that the sounds are different because of the increased air density?”

  Roger sniffed aristocratically and pretended to ignore her, “Let’s all go in my car, yours can follow along.”

  As they were getting in Ell said, “Whoops, I’m getting a call. You guys go on ahead and I’ll meet you there.”

  “We can wait.”

  “No, you go on ahead. This could be quite a while, hopefully I’ll be right over though.” As she pulled her head back far enough that only Emma could see, Ell winked at her.

  Emma got a little lump in her throat, but turned to Roger, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you, pretty sharp figuring out that the weather’s getting hotter there on TC3.”

  Warmed by the praise, Roger nonetheless said, “Well it didn’t really come together for me until Wheat pointed out that he thought they were trying to cool themselves.”

  “Still, that was a good pickup. Also, I haven’t gotten to thank you for taking me home from the hospital. Maybe I owe you dinner?”

  “Naw, shucks Ma’am. ‘twern’t nuthin’. I’m pretty amazed at you though, shot one night, back at work the next!”

  “Arggh, ‘twas only a flesh wound,” Emma grinned at him.

  After they’d been at the table in La Mez for about ten minutes, Ell called to say she couldn’t make it after all and told them to have a good time. Though he was disappointed, Roger had a delightful time and thought to himself after they left that Emma had become an amazing friend. Smart, pretty, fun and great to talk to. If only I weren’t already in love with Ell, he thought to himself, I could really fall for her.

  ***

  Ell leaned back in her chair at her house, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Recently she’d been trying to understand some of the issues with the accelerating expansion of the Universe that had led to the hypotheses requiring “dark energy.” But tonight she couldn’t seem to concentrate on the math she’d been working on for the past few weeks. She’d tried watching the Teecees, but they were just hiking up the mountain. Her thoughts kept coming back to Roger and Emma driving off to La Mez. She felt happy for them and could rationalize that their relationship was a good thing… despite all that, it left her with an undefined ache. “Allan, put through a call to Phil Zabrisk.”

  “Ell?”

  “Hey, how’s my favorite astronaut?”

  “Great! I’ve been up three times on training missions so far. Now that you’ve made it cheap enough to be realistic NASA’s talking about a mission to the Moon to build a real Moonbase. You may be able to say you know a “moonie” pretty soon; I’m angling for a spot on the construction crew.”

  “Hey, once you get the ‘Zabrisk Moon Resort’ built, you’ll have to let me know so I can come visit.” Ell found herself hoping that Phil would repeat one of his frequent invitations for her to visit him in Houston.

  Instead Phil said, “Hey, you’ll be glad to know that I’ve finally stopped dreaming that you’d fall for me someday. I’ve started dating one of the lady astronauts. I think you’d like Carol, she doesn’t let me get away with anything either.”

  Distantly, Ell heard herself say, “Sounds like the kind of girl you need. I’ve got to pity her though. Have you warned her about what she’s gotten herself in for?” Surprised that her voice didn’t break, she felt tears slowly begin running down her cheek.

  Phil laughed, “No! And don’t you tell her either. A guy’s got to have his secrets you know.”

  Ell laughed too, hoping it sounded normal despite the frog in her throat.

  Phil said, “Hey, I’ve got to go so Carol doesn’t find out I’ve been talking to the love of my life. Catch you another time?”

  “Bye,” Ell whispered, then buried her head in her hands, wondering how she could feel so devastated that her two “friendly boys” had finally found, or been found by, girls who would promote them to boyfriend status. She should be happy for her friends… not devastated by their good fortune. She contemplated calling her friend Gary from Las Vegas, but decided that the way things were going, he would turn out to be engaged or married and she’d be even more depressed.

  She’d just need to wait until her date with Gordon Saturday before Velos’ show in Raleigh. Ell turned back to the screen with her dark energy calculations.
After staring at the screen for another thirty minutes without seeing anything she got up, went into the bathroom and put on her “Raquel Blandon” disguise.

  Walking down the stairs, Ell met Bridget coming up. Bridget said, “Where are you going, this hour of the night?”

  Feeling like Bridget could feel the desperation oozing out of her, Ell said, “I thought I’d go see how Vic’s bar is doing now that the opening buzz has worn off. Wanna go with?”

  Bridget smiled brightly, obviously delighted, “Sure, I need some social life, just let me put on my ‘night out’ heels.”

  Ell had been going to walk through the woods to get her little pickup truck that she used when she was in disguise but Bridget offered to take her car instead. In the car Bridget asked, “Why are you going as… ‘Raquel’ right?”

  “People treat me weird when I’m out as ‘Ell.’ I don’t want to be signing autographs. I just want to be an ordinary person tonight.”

  “Hah! ‘Ordinary.’ That’s hard to imagine for you, but it’ll be fun. Maybe next time I could dress up as ‘Ell’ and sign autographs. I’d like to be that person sometime.”

  Despite her previous funk Ell giggled, “We should do that.”

  Vic’s had a good crowd, though it didn’t compare to their opening night with Velos. Bridget and Ell threaded their way up to the bar to get a beer for Bridget and Ell’s usual Coke. The band, named “Parker,” played bluegrass with a Celtic flavor. The peppy rhythm had them swaying before they really got back out into the main club. All the tables were occupied so they stood near the dance floor taking it in for a bit, then Bridget said, “Let’s get out there and dance!”

  Ell frowned, “Where are we going to put our drinks?”

  “On the rail here.”

  When Ell set her drink down she realized that a lot of people must leave their drinks on the rail and she wondered how they kept them straight. She bent her straw over and looked carefully at the depth of the Coke so she could tell if it had been disturbed. Soon Ell and Bridget were out on the floor freestyling.

  After they’d been dancing a little while, an enthusiastic young man stomped his way out onto the floor spinning and thumping his feet. A girl on the other side of the floor turned toward him and started doing the same thing. Ell turned to Bridget, “Is there a name for the dance those two are doing?”

  “Clogging.”

  “Do you know how to do it?”

  Bridget shrugged, “Kinda.” She started a simple kick, step, kick, step rhythm and Ell quickly accompanied her. Ell turned to watch the young man. After focusing on his feet a moment, she added “double toes” and “rock steps” to what she was doing, enjoying the challenge of matching him.

  Bridget went back to simply moving freestyle to the music while watching in amazement as Ell quickly added more and more of the steps the young man was performing. She shook her head, with anyone else she would have thought that they had been teasing when they asked what the dance was and then immediately demonstrated that they were an expert at it—but she’d seen Ell dance other dances and suspected that picking up clogging just felt easy to her.

  A few minutes later Ell was doing everything the young man was doing, essentially following him in the same steps at the same time and occasionally throwing in a flourish of her own. When he turned, she turned. Even though they were across the floor from one another, it looked like they were dancing as partners. She really liked it, the fast pace of the foot movements was great exercise, though she wished that it also incorporated something for her hands to do. She grinned, the joyful activity had brought her out of her funk. She looked at Bridget and raised her eyebrows. Bridget grinned back at her.

  The song drew to an end and Ell headed back over to her drink. Bridget came up behind her, “Don’t you want to dance another one?”

  “Hah! I was workin’ out there, not just freestylin’ like you were. I need a break.”

  Bridget laughed, “OK,” she put her hands up, “I’ll admit, I took the easy way out.” She looked to Ell’s right and raised her eyebrows.

  The guy who’d led the clogging out on the dance floor was standing next to Ell, eyebrows raised, waiting to speak, but not wanting to interrupt.

  When Ell turned to him as well he said, “Hi, I thought I should come meet my dance partner. My name’s Shan.” Tall and rangy looking, with shaggy blond hair, he held his hand out to shake.

  Ell shook his hand, “Hi, I’m Raquel,” she motioned, “this is my friend Bridget.”

  “Where’d you learn to clog?”

  Bridget opened her mouth to say, she learned here tonight! But Ell beat her to answering, saying, “Oh, just here and there, a little bit at a time.”

  Bridget opened her mouth to protest but caught a little head shake from Ell and subsided.

  “Have you clogged with a partner? I mean other than dancing the same steps as me like you just did?”

  Ell shook her head.

  “Would you try it with me?”

  Ell shrugged, “Sure, but you’ll have to teach me how.”

  The band swung into “Orange Blossom Special” and Shan held his hand out. Ell took it and they headed out to the floor with a lot of other enthusiastic dancers. Shan took her hands and turned her into a cuddle, which Ell was familiar with from swing dancing. Then they started doing clogging footwork similar to what they’d been doing across the floor from one another earlier. Shan began taking her through some turns. Ell found it to be different from the swing dancing she’d done in the past because the footwork was much faster but the turns much slower. She really enjoyed it, but realized she’d be exhausted pretty quickly with her poor stamina and the fast pounding of their feet.

  Shan was excited to be clogging with someone so good at it. She matched his footwork effortlessly. When he threw a different step in from what he’d been doing, he could barely tell that her feet had lagged his in doing the same thing. It wasn’t as if she’d read his mind and knew what he was about to do with his feet, it was as if she seemed supernaturally fast at correcting what she’d been about to do, to what he’d already started doing. She followed him effortlessly through turns, no matter how complex. When Orange Blossom finished he tried to get her to stay out on the floor for another dance, but she insisted she needed to rest.

  Shan worried, to look at her, the girl was in great shape, so he didn’t think she could really be all that tired. Maybe she just didn’t like dancing with him? Usually, because most guys either couldn’t dance or were terrible at it, girls kind of flocked around him wanting to dance and he had his pick. But this Raquel danced so well that he could easily imagine that she might be bored with him. There was just something about her… he really wanted to get to know her better. He noticed her red wristband indicating that she was too young to drink. “So are you a student or have you joined the workforce?”

  “I work out in the triangle and take a couple of classes at UNC.”

  “I’m a Tar Heel student too.”

  “What are you studying?”

  He shrugged diffidently, “Math.”

  Ell had the impression he took a lot of pride in his major but didn’t want to sound like he was bragging. “Hey, that sounds hard.”

  He wrinkled his nose, “Some of it’s pretty tough, but I like it, so it’s mostly fun to me.”

  “What are you gonna do with a math degree when you’re done?”

  “There’re lots of jobs in statistics and analysis and finance, but I’m hoping to stay in the ivory tower, teaching and trying to do innovative things.”

  Ell grinned at him, “Sounds cool, you ready to dance again?”

  Shan said, “Sure,” turning toward the floor while wondering whether he’d sounded too pompous with his “ivory tower” remark. Oh well, he mentally shrugged to himself, if she doesn’t like it, there’re a lot more fish in the sea. His dad had often said that to him in the past. But… there’s something about this girl…

  After another fun dance they came bac
k to their usual spot to find that Bridget was taking her turn out on the floor, freestyling with a young man there. Shan said, “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Feeling guilty having a student buy her a drink, but reminding herself that this was how the game was played, Ell nodded, “Coke please?” She admired Shan as he headed to the bar. He looked older than the usual student and quite handsome in a rugged ropy kind of way. Could he be a grad student? She wondered, thinking that he certainly didn’t look like the prototypical math nerd.

  Bridget came back and introduced “Raquel” to Ryan, the fellow she’d been dancing with. “What happened to Shan?”

  “He’s at the bar.”

  “Is not,” Shan’s voice said over her shoulder, “He’s back with the goods.” He set a Coke down in front of Ell.

  “Thanks!” Ell said taking a sip and then introducing him to Ryan.

  “Actually, Ryan’s my housemate.”

  Bridget rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me you guys are out as a team and we’ve just been picked up by a smooth talker and his wingman?”

  Shan put his hands up in surrender, “Now, now. A man and his housemate go out in the evening and while he’s out enjoying a solo dance, a beautiful young woman starts dancing with him, even though she’s all the way across the floor. Merely to be polite he goes to meet the girl he’s been dancing with. His friend happens to innocently notice that the clogging girl has a beautiful friend. Completely an innocent series of events.”

  Ell lowered an eyebrow, “Hmmm, sounds entirely too well rehearsed to me. What do you think Bridget?”

  Bridget looked back and forth from Shan to Ryan, “I would have characterized it as, ‘Two young ladies go out intending to devastate the men of the town. Shortly after demonstrating their astonishing dancing skills they find they’ve attracted two hapless victims.’”

  Shan and Ryan laughed, “A much more accurate depiction. No doubt that’s what just went down.” Ryan said.