by Martin Tays
Moses looked over to Cath, then back to the alien. “Okay. Let’s get a common frame of reference, first. The amount of time our home planet takes to go around the sun once is what we refer to as a ‘year’.”
“We use a similar measurement.” S’Nhu-gli replied via the keyboard. “It is an obvious one.”
“Yes. Now, the amount of time that has passed since the probe reached your system is… call it an even hundred of our years. How long ago was it for you?”
“It has been very close to one hundred and seventeen years.”
Moses scratched his chin. “So your home planet is closer to your sun than ours. Interesting. Irrelevant, but interesting.”
“Please, what is this word?” S’Nhu-gli pointed at the display.
“Irrelevant.” Moses explained. “Information not pertaining to the current conversation.”
T’Han-mri spoke briefly, and he turned back and typed “My daughter informs me that this is a word I should make note of.” His muzzle wrinkled as he continued. “It will often be applicable in my conversations.”
Moses grinned in response. “I think you and I will get along well, then.”
Ami looking over Moses’ shoulder, muttered “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Shush, dear.” Moses replied, distracted. “Now, you said that your father was the one who first began to try to understand the probe? The ‘interloper’?”
“No.” S’Nhu-gli looked at him oddly. “When the interloper first arrived, my father was not yet born. The father of my father was the first to board, and he studied it for the rest of his life.”
“Your grandfather. Huh.” Moses hesitated, looking at the priest curiously. “If this isn’t a personal question, how old are you?”
“I have lived a full life in the service of our maker. I am not quite forty five years old. If I am lucky, I will live another five or six.” He looked up at Moses, then added “Why do you ask?”
Moses stared at him, speechless. Finally, he turned and beckoned Cath forward. When she came up, he pointed to her and said “This is the engineer on board our ship. Her name is Cath.”
S’Nhu-gli turned toward her, then typed “I am always glad to meet a fellow priest, C’Ath.”
Now, it was Cath’s turn to goggle. She turned and looked at Moses, who just crossed himself theatrically and said “Bless me, father, for I have sinned?”
“Three Hail Marys and a trip to Lourdes.” She shook her head, then continued. “Moses, what the hell is he talking about?”
Moses shrugged. “Got me. I do that know the sociological implications behind what he is saying are enormous. Still, again, this is beside the point.” He turned back to S’Nhu-gli. “Irrelevant.”
“Indeed. Why are you so surprised at my age?”
Moses pointed to the probe around them. “You see this device?”
S’Nhu-gli followed his pointing finger, then replied. “Yes.”
He cocked a thumb at Cath. “She built it.”
☼
S’Nhu-gli stared at the humaans. Disbelief, astonishment, curiosity, and possibly a touch of horror all warred inside him. He looked at the alien C’Ath, then M’Hoses. Finally, forefeet shaking slightly, he typed “So she is, then, over a hundred of your years old?”
The alien M’Hoses read his question and bobbed his squat head up and down rapidly. The gesture appeared to indicate an affirmative. “Considerably.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry, Cath.” He looked back toward the engineer, then turned again to S’Nhu-gli. “Actually, I’m about thirty or so years older than her, if I remember correctly. I was a late bloomer.”
S’Nhu-gli stared at the humaan. Finally, he asked “How old are you?”
The humaan considered for a moment, then said “In your years, I would be about… five hundred and sixty years old. No, more. Closer to seventy, I think.”
The priest looked over at his daughter. The expression on her face mirrored his own. Finally, he turned to the keyboard and asked “How much longer do you expect to live?”
M’Hoses moved his shoulders up and down. “Honestly? I have no idea. We have no idea. Ask me again in a thousand years.”
The mate of the alien pushed her way forward. “We have not always been so long lived. Our people once became old, and died, just as yours do. We didn’t like that, and many doctors and scientists working together devised ways to change it. We no longer age.”
“You no longer… age?” S’Nhu-gli replied, astonished. “How is that possible?”
“We’re humans.” Her answer appeared on the screen. “We don’t believe that anything is impossible. It’s our blessing.” She paused, then continued. “And our curse, really.”
“Hey, that’s pretty good.” M’Hoses interrupted. “You should send that to Reader’s Digest.”
S’Nhu-gli looked over to M’Hoses, then typed “That was an irrelevant statement?”
“Yes, Snuggly. That was an irrelevant statement.”
“I see.” S’Nhu-gli considered the four humaans before him. “So you are all this old?”
“No.” The mate of M’Hoses replied. “Sorry, my name is Ami. I am actually considered to be quite young. I am only a couple of years older than you.”
“I see. And M’Hoses is your mate?”
“Yes.” The humaan A’Hme placed her forefoot across M’Hoses’ back. “This is my little stud muffin. Sorry, mate.”
“Interesting. My people have a saying: ‘kidnapping a cub’. It means…”
The humaan female shook her head. “I can guess. You’re just jealous, that’s all.”
“I am sorry, friend A’Hme.” He replied, seriously. “You do not have enough limbs to excite me.”
A’Hme responded by making a loud, braying noise. She sounded a little like a herd animal. S’Nhu-gli looked at M’Hoses, who grinned at her as he spoke. “Sorry. She found your remark to be humorous. It’s called ‘laughing’.”
“It is a disturbing sound.”
“You get used to it.” He looked at S’Nhu-gli for a long moment, then spoke again. “We are not extraordinary, you know. Really. We eat, we breath, we love, we learn. We even die, sometimes. Just like you.”
The priest considered the strange looking alien before him for a long moment. “Still.” He finally typed. “I believe that this information should be kept close guarded for a while. Some of our people may find it… disconcerting.”
“Really? Why is that?”
S’Nhu-gli paused, staring at the humaan. Finally, he asked “What do you believe will happen to you when you die?”
The alien looked at him strangely. “Well, decomposition, mainly. Why?”
“No. Not your body. You. Your essence. Your…” He paused, at a loss for words.
“Soul?” The humaan A’Hme offered.
“Thank you, friend A’Hme. Your ‘soul’, then.”
“No idea.” M’Hoses replied. “Many of us don’t believe that such a thing exists. Many of us do.”
“And you?”
“I believe I’ll find out soon enough.” M’Hoses moved his shoulders up and down, again ― an expression of uncertainty? ― and continued. “Until then, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it.”
“I see.” S’Nhu-gli looked over at his daughter, who motioned for the keyboard. He pushed it over.
“We believe in cycles.” She typed. “Our deaths, to us, are an opportunity for a fresh start. We grow old. We die. We are born again, with another opportunity to learn.”
“How very Zen.” M’Hoses replied. “Some of our people believe the same. So why… Oh!” He rubbed the digits of a forefoot together quickly, producing a curious snapping noise, then pointed toward the priest. “Wait… I think I see. You’re concern
ed that our longevity threatens this?”
S’Nhu-gli took the keyboard back. “You have grasped the matter precisely. The cycle of life is very important to us. Not only does it provide us with different opportunities to learn, it is also ‘the great equalizer’.”
“Of course.” He moved his head up and down. “Because if your life is unpleasant in this cycle, it may not be so in the next?”
“Exactly.” The priest replied. “Learning that it is possible to, well, to become stuck in this one life may disturb some. It should be approached delicately.”
The alien bobbed his head again. “As you wish. I’m impressed, by the way. You grasped the implications of that pretty quick.”
“I am a priest.” He replied. “It is my job to think clearly.”
“Huh. Where were you when Galileo got put over a barrel?”
“Who?”
“Sorry. Not important. Say… how would you like to come over to visit our ship?”
“I have been hoping for such an invitation.”
“Well, alright, then!” M’Hoses replied. “I’ll call ahead and have them put on the kettle.”
“I do not know what that means.”
“You’d be surprised how often I get that.” The humaan lifted the device he had used for translation, did something to the display, and spoke. “Heads up, guys. I’m coming over with a couple of important visitors who ain’t human.”
“Gotcha, Moses.” A higher pitched voice ― female, presumably ― responded from the device. “We have been following along, you know.”
“Sorry. Thought you might be napping. We’ll be there within the next half hour or so.” He looked back toward S’Nhu-gli as he continued. “Okay. I’ve let them know we’re coming. Will it be just the two of you?”
“No. I believe the general would prefer to accompany us.”
“The general, huh?” The humaan’s voice sounded amused. “Oh. Huh. Goody.”
☼
In fact their general did want to go, but he chose to go on board his own shuttle. As things worked out, Moses and S’Nhu-gli went with the general, and T’Han-mri with Cath, Ami and Sandar. That way, both groups had a person who spoke English.
On board the alien’s shuttle, S’Nhu-gli turned to Moses and spoke apologetically. “I am sorry that our acceleration couches do not fit you.”
Moses, tucked into the tiny space behind the seats ― more like vertical body conforming stretchers with two sets of arm rests ― of the general and the priest, considered his hosts.
S’Nhu-gli was a priest. And he was an engineer. In fact, the two seemed indistinguishable in their culture. Curious. He shook his head and replied to the statement. “I’m okay. Really. I’d hate to make a reentry, but I’m wedged in enough for orbital maneuvers.”
“You are comfortable, then?”
M’Hoses moved his head from side to side. “Not even close.”
The general ― S’Nhu-gli had introduced him as K’har-atah ― growled something in their language. Moses looked over at S’Nhu-gli.
“The general,” S’Nhu-gli typed, “Would like to make certain that your weapons systems are disarmed before we come into range.”
“Ah. Reasonable. Please tell the general that we have no weapons.” Moses said.
The slender alien cocked his head at Moses, then turned back to the keyboard. “This is not one of your humorous remarks?”
“See?” He made a gesture with his forefeet, but the priest had no idea what it meant. “Even aliens can’t take me seriously. I ask you, is that right?”
“I do not know.” S’Nhu-gli replied. “That is why I asked you.”
“Sorry.” M’Hoses displayed his teeth. “That was a humorous remark. The first one was not. We are in fact unarmed.”
The priest looked at Moses curiously, then the general, then back at Moses. Finally, he typed “Your people are peaceful, then?”
“Nope. We’re actually incredibly warlike, to be honest. However, wars are too often about resources. We have seven populated planets and twenty two explored solar systems to exploit.” He looked over at the general, then continued. “Nowadays, when a group of humans gets angry enough to start shooting, they mostly just move somewhere else, instead. Mostly.”
“I see.”
“So we haven’t outgrown war, as such.” He continued. “We’ve just found a place where the gain is not worth the loss in resources. Kinda, sorta. Mostly.”
“Interesting.” The general spoke again, and S’Nhu-gli turned to him. He spoke for a long time. K’har-atah turned and looked at Moses speculatively. He finally said one word.
“Well?” Moses finally asked, when it was obvious that the general’s statement was not going to be translated.
S’Nhu-gli looked uncomfortable. “The general has expressed…” He hesitated, then continued. “Disbelief in your statement.”
“What did he say? Actually?”
S’Nhu-gli looked back at him with what Moses was certain was an embarrassed expression on his face. “The word he actually used is one that means the waste of a kraal. This is a domesticated animal we keep in groups for its products.”
Moses laughed. “Yes. We have a similar expression. The word is ‘bullshit’.”
“I will make a note of it, then. It is a useful word.”
“Lord knows I use it often enough.” He smiled. “Tell the general that our ship is not armed because we felt that arriving in an armed ship meant we were looking for war, and arriving in an unarmed ship meant that we were looking for peace.” He paused, then continued. “Also because we didn’t think of it.”
S’Nhu-gli spoke to the general, who replied briefly.
Moses looked over. “He just used that same word again, didn’t he?”
“You have a good ear.” The priest replied, ducking his head to his chest. “Yes, but it does not matter. And in a way we are doing the same. The general believes that it would be better if your people are dangerous to place himself in hazard rather than his ship and his crew.”
“Really?” Moses considered the general, then turned back to S’Nhu-gli. “You know, he reminds me of a leader from our history. A man named Patton.”
“This P’Hatton was a good man?”
“Good Lord, no. Actually he was a right bastard. But he cared for the men who served him as if they were his own children. Children he sometimes needed to send to their deaths.”
S’Nhu-gli looked over at K’har-atah, then responded. “I believe you may have the general’s heart in your hand.”
“’Heart in your hand’. Huh. That’s a good phrase. I like it.”
“You study history, then?”
Moses shrugged. “When you’re as old as I am, you’ve studied everything. I’m a decent historian, a first rate chef, a mediocre guitar player, a barely adequate mathematician, and the best cribbage player you’ll ever meet.
“I’ve worked as fire fighter, pastry chef, librarian, ditch digger, programmer, baseball umpire and once as a penguin herder.” He shrugged. “Don’t ask. There’s not a single job I’m an expert at, but there’s nothing I’m not willing to try.” The human looked back at him. “In the words of a great philosopher of our people, ‘specialization is for insects’.”
“I see.” He turned in his couch to look back at Moses, then typed. “Tell me. What is it like, knowing you will live forever?”
Moses considered the alien for a moment. “The truth?” He finally replied. “Frightening, sometimes. And exhilarating. Unlike Ami and her friends, I grew up knowing when I was going to die. Then, one day, I was told it wouldn’t happen. I felt… I felt alive.”
“I can believe that.” He glanced out of the viewport toward their destination, then continued. “And I also believe we are almost at your
ship. What is the round part?” S’Nhu-gli asked, pointing. “I was wondering before… wait. I see. Yes, it is rotating, now.” He looked back over toward Moses. “The ring rotates, and thus on the inner surface provides the crew with a false sense of gravity. Yes?”
“Yes. Indeed.” The bobbing head seemed to indicate an affirmative. “You have an engineer’s mind. That’s it, exactly. You don’t do this?”
“It has, I suppose, just never occurred to us. And such a simple, elegant solution. Oh, we must try this ourselves.” He pulled an object from one of his pouches that turned out to be a notebook and began writing.
“Speak with Cath.” Moses replied. “She’d be happy to help you with it.”
The priest finished writing in his notebook, then turned back to the keyboard. “We have much to learn from you, friend Moses.”
Moses smiled. “We have much to learn from each other.”
“Perhaps. There is one thing, though, that I like to learn from you now.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“What is a ‘weasel’?”
☼
“Welcome to my ship.” Moses pushed open the airlock door and gestured grandly. Then he noticed that every single person still left on the ship was crowded into the central corridor, watching. “And my peanut gallery.” He added wryly.
S’Nhu-gli pushed his way into the ship and paused, then lifted up the maintenance pad and typed.
Moses looked over and read his message. “Please inform your crewmates that I am happy and proud to meet them at this time.”
He looked up to address the crew. “He says ‘howdy’.” He then counted heads. “By the way… who’s flying the ship?”
“Oh. That was my bad.” Mattie replied, not taking her eyes off the alien. “I figured we could set the alarms and do without a watch for a few minutes.”
