Lucy and Ray

by Stan Ruecker

  “How did you hear?” Ray asked. “Do they know about you?”

  “Maybe,” the alien said. “It’s hard to say. I listen to their broadcasts. And I’ve been watching their preparations. It’s clear to me they’ve lost interest here.”

  “Then you’ll be free,” Ray said. “All you have to do is stay under cover for the next little while.”

  “I don’t think so,” the alien answered. “My guess is they’ll destroy the planet as they leave.”

  Ray sat down on a box.

  “The whole planet?” he said.

  “It’s what they do,” the alien said. “Believe me, I know them.”

  “What’re they like?”

  “Rrachnn,” the alien answered. “Only meaner. And smarter.”

  “Did you try to fight them?” Ray asked.

  “We did what we could. We thought we were pretty tough. I think we might’ve even gotten a few of their ships. But there were too many of them. Too many ships.”

  “Do you know where they’re from?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t think they have a home planet, not anymore, anyway. They just move around.”

  “They aren’t from this galaxy,” Ray said.

  “Is that right?”

  The alien sat down across from Ray.

  “I didn’t know that,” it said. “How did you find out?”

  “One of their probes picked me up and brought me here,” Ray said. “She told me about them.”

  “Odd,” the alien said. “Was it terrible, being picked up like that?”

  “Not at all,” Ray said. “At least, it was a bit upsetting at first, but I got used to it pretty quickly. She was kind to me. She gave me Cinnamon, here,” he said, and reached down to pat her and tug at one of her ears.

  “Does this creature speak?” the alien asked.

  “No,” Ray told it. “She’s my dog.”

  Cinnamon got up from her spot beside Ray and went over to the alien. A couple of tendrils moved toward her, and she sniffed at them curiously.

  “It’s a friendly dog,” the alien said.

  “Her name’s Cinnamon.”

  “Hello, Cinnamon.”

  “Did you tell me your name?” the alien asked. “Or do you only give names to your dogs?”

  “No,” Ray said. “Sorry. I’m Ray.”

  “My name is Hisssttnnn,” the alien said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Ray answered.

  “Here,” the alien said, and handed Ray a handful of diamonds.

  “What are they?” Ray asked.

  “Pictures,” the alien said. “Photographs.”

  Ray took one of the diamonds off his palm and held it up to the light. Sure enough, there was a tiny alien crowd in there, all looking back.

  “Who are they?” Ray asked.

  “My friends,” the alien said. “They’re all dead now.”

  “Oh,” Ray said. “I’m sorry.” It sounded stupid even to Ray.

  “Everyone’s dead,” Hisssttnnn told him. “Everyone but me.”

  “Why did they leave you?” Ray asked. “I mean, were you someone important?”

  “No,” Hisssttnnn said. “I’m just the last.”

  Ray looked at the next diamond. It showed a machine of some kind, sort of spidery with lots of lights.

  “What’s this?” Ray asked, and handed the diamond over. The alien glanced at it, then stopped, staring into the picture.

  “That was my heart,” the alien said. “It was a nice heart.”

  Ray looked sideways.

  “Try that again,” he said. “I’m not sure that translator’s working the way it should.”

  “I said it was my heart,” the alien said.

  “Oh,” Ray answered, and looked at the next diamond. It was some kind of scenery.

  “This looks nice, too,” he hazarded.

  The alien glanced at that one, too, but didn’t get caught.

  “That was on a trip I took,” it said. “It won’t last much longer. The place where it was taken, I mean.”

  Ray looked at the last few diamonds in silence. They showed another view of Hisssttnnn’s heart, a couple of other aliens, and something that looked like a paper clip.

  “Where are your pictures?” the alien asked.

  “I don’t have any,” Ray answered.

  “You mean you didn’t have the chance to bring them? That’s terrible. How could you stand it?”

  Ray thought for a minute.

  “I don’t really have any,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never owned a camera.”

  “Excuse me,” Hisssttnnn said. “I was forgetting you’re an alien.”

  “We have cameras,” Ray explained. “But they’re sort of—optional.”

  “I see,” the alien said. “It wasn’t like that with us.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ray suddenly said, and dug into his inside breast pocket. “I do have some pictures.”

  He pulled out the three postcards from the alien spacestation.

  “I got these on the way here,” Ray said. “They’re pictures of one of the places we visited.”

  Hisssttnnn visibly relaxed.

  “I knew it,” he said. “Everybody loves pictures. It looks nice, this place.”

  “They were friendly,” Ray said. “But then I think we were rich.”

  “That always helps,” Hisssttnnn said. “Although sometimes it isn’t easy to convey, when you’re dealing with another species. People see the world so differently.”

  Ray suddenly remembered they were in a fairly dangerous situation.

  “I don’t suppose,” he said, “you could show us the way out of here?”

  “Sure,” Hisssttnnn said. “Where do you want to go?”

  “We want to find Lucy,” Ray said. “I know she’s an alien probe, but I still think she’s our best bet for getting out of here. And somehow we have to try to stop the invasion of Earth.”

  “I’d like to help,” Hisssttnnn said. “But I don’t have much to contribute. They’re tough, but they will die. Other than that, you’re on your own.”

  “Okay,” Ray said, and suddenly got an idea.

  “I don’t want to make you angry,” Ray said. “But I just thought of a possibility. Do you really think they’re going to destroy your planet when they go?”

  “I have no doubt about it,” Hisssttnnn said.

  “So what if we did it first? I know destroying a planet seems a bit drastic, but if it’s going to get destroyed anyway, maybe we could catch them off guard and save the next world.”

  “Which could very well be yours,” Hisssttnnn pointed out.

  “Yeah,” Ray said. “I’m afraid it might be.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Hisssttnnn said. “Except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Ray asked.

  “They’re nomadic,” the alien explained. “They don’t like planets very much.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Ray said.

  “They don’t like planets,” Hisssttnnn said, “so they don’t spend much time actually on the planet, if you know what I mean. Maybe one out of every ten of them is actually down here, and now that they’re planning to move to the next solar system, there’s probably fewer than that.”

  “So they’re in their ships?”

  “Right,” Hisssttnnn said. “Even at the best of times, or I suppose it would be the worst, since it’s during the destruction of a planet, they don’t like to be inside a gravity well. Not if they can help it.”

  “I see,” Ray said. “Then I guess the only thing you can help us with is getting back to Lucy.”

  “I don’t know Lucy,” the alien told him. “Can you describe her?”

  “Not exactly,” Ray said. “But I can draw you a picture.”

  He took out his pen and sketched a quick outline of Lucy on one of the crates.

  “Wow,” Hisssttnnn said. “No wonder you don’t have worry so much about pictures. Can all your people do that?”

 
“Quite a few,” Ray said, feeling flattered. “Actually, I’m not very good at drawing.”

  “Drawing,” Hisssttnnn said. “Nice idea. Not that it’ll go anywhere here. Did I tell you they killed everyone?”

  “Yeah,” Ray said. “So I heard.”

  “Except me,” Hisssttnnn said. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Me neither,” Ray admitted. “Why don’t you come to Lucy with us?”

  “Lucy’s a ship,” Hisssttnnn said. “Which is good. But she’s also one of their ships. Which is bad. I don’t think I’ll go. Thanks anyway.”

  “Okay,” Ray answered. “But do you know where they’ve got her?”

  “Sure,” the alien told him. “I can get you to a spot where you can see her.”

  “Good,” Ray said. “Thanks.”

  Ray handed the diamonds back, and Hisssttnnn returned his postcards.

  Release

  The Prime Minister was losing another game of backgammon to Usha when the computer broke in to announce Rachel’s call.

  “Eric,” the computer said. “There’s a call for you.”

  “That’ll be Red Emma,” Usha said.

  The PM got up and stretched his back.

  “Hello,” he said, pleasantly enough. “Your watchdog has told me you’re planning to release me.”

  “We are,” Rachel answered. “All we have to do is figure out how to do it so we don’t get caught.”

  “That would be unfortunate at this point,” the PM conceded. “Have you come up with any ideas?’

  “We’ve thought of a few things,” Rachel said. “But we want to be able to ensure your safety. It won’t do us any good to have you getting hurt or lost, now that you’ve agreed to postpone your bill.”

  “No,” the PM said. “That wouldn’t be very good, would it?”

  “So here’s our offer,” Rachel said. “Either we’ll put you down in one of the rural districts and let you find your own way back to the capital, or we’ll take you right to a small town with a train station and you can reduce your travel time by a day or two.”

  “And what’s the catch?” the PM said.

  He’s pretty quick, Rachel thought, for a politician.

  “You have to agree to a couple of conditions,” Rachel said. “And no nonsense about them.”

  “These conditions—” the PM said, “they would help assure both your safety and my own?”

  “Exactly,” Rachel said.

  “I’m listening,” the PM answered.

  “We want you to wear a disguise,” Rachel said.

  The Prime Minister looked over at Usha, who grinned at him through her whiskers.

  “I suppose your watchdog is going to select it?” the PM asked.

  “Yes,” Rachel said. “In fact, I think it’s already there.”

  Usha reached behind the couch and pulled out a package that had been delivered that morning.

  “I see you’re prepared,” the Prime Minister said. “I hope I’m not going to be too ridiculous.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Rachel said.

  Usha opened the package and took out the dress and falsies.

  “Much as I suspected,” the PM said.

  “We didn’t want you identifying yourself to the first person you met,” Rachel said.

  “You think I rate my dignity higher than that?” the PM said.

  “Yes,” Rachel said. “I think you’ve conducted yourself very well throughout what can only have been a difficult period, and I don’t think you want to expose yourself to the mockery of your own media. I also think it’ll be safer for you if you aren’t travelling some distance without security.”

  “I agree,” the PM said.

  “Thank you,” Rachel said. “There’s just one more thing. I understand that your security people will have confiscated the equipment we left behind at our display.”

  “The rockets, you mean.”

  “Yes,” Rachel said. “I’d like you to have them as your own property. There’s a note of gift in the package with your disguise, in case there’s any trouble retrieving them. They did legally belong to a corporation, and as far as I know, a company is an individual under law, but not one that can be guilty of kidnapping. So they’ll be unclaimed property of the company until you ask for them.”

  The Prime Minister actually smiled.

  “Thank you,” he said. “That’s very thoughtful.”

  Survivors

  Hisssttnnn left Ray and Cinnamon in a hangar overlooking the airfield. From a ground-floor window they could just make out the top of Lucy’s distinctive shape.

  “That’s her, all right,” Ray said. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Hisssttnnn said. “I should get going.”

  “One last thing,” Ray said. “Why did you want to see me?”

  “I wanted one last person to see my pictures,” Hisssttnnn said. “I wanted one more person to know we weren’t so bad that we deserved to be destroyed.”

  “Well,” Ray said. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Hisssttnnn said, and disappeared back into the depths of the hangar. As soon as he was gone, Cinnamon’s attention was gripped by something off in a different direction.

  “Hisssttnnn’s as crazy as a March hare,” a voice said.

  Ray knelt beside Cinnamon. Three aliens like the one he’d just met came out from behind some shelving.

  “Wait a minute,” Ray said. “I thought he said he was the last one.”

  “He is,” one of the aliens said.

  “But,” Ray said. “Then what are you?”

  “What do you mean?” one of them answered. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Sorry,” Ray said. “But I don’t seem to get it.”

  “We’re not—”

  “I’m sorry,” Ray said. “The translator didn’t translate that.”

  “It’s a pretty good translator,” the alien said. “How about this? He’s a different gender than we are.”

  “Oh,” Ray said. “So he’s the last of his gender?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So he wasn’t actually wrong? About being the last, I mean.”

  “Not entirely. But there’ve never been many of his gender anyway.”

  “Oh,” Ray said again.

  “They screamed,” one of the other aliens said. The second one reached over and grabbed him by the hands.

  “What?” Ray said.

  “He’s got some problem,” the alien said. “I think he’s been through too much.”

  “He can’t stop thinking about the screaming,” the second alien said. “There’s a problem with his memory.”

  “You mean, he can’t forget,” Ray said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Things were bad here,” Ray said, lamely. What could he possibly say to people who were losing their planet for someone else’s entertainment?

  “They screamed,” the obsessed alien told Ray. “They couldn’t stop themselves.”

  The two of them went down an aisle and disappeared.

  “Sorry about my friends,” the remaining alien said. “But we wanted to tell you it wasn’t necessarily like Hisssttnnn said. It wasn’t open warfare, not from the start. All wars are a failure in diplomacy.”

  “I don’t know,” Ray said. “These invaders seem pretty aggressive.”

  “Still,” the alien said. “If we’d only tried to talk with them, we might’ve had a chance.”

  “Did they ask to talk?”

  “No,” the alien said. “At least, we were told they didn’t. But who can say? We heard they were demanding our unconditional surrender. But maybe they came into the system and got attacked first. Who knows what goes on at the edge of the solar system? There’s a long transmission lag, and the military ships wouldn’t have said anything that wasn’t immediately classified. So we’ll never know.”

  “Did Hisssttnnn know?” Ray asked.

  “Maybe,” the alien said. “I never knew him before he w
ent crazy.”

  “What do you mean by ‘crazy,’” Ray said.

  “He doesn’t hide,” the alien said. “For one thing.”

  “He seemed to be hiding,” Ray said. “He certainly didn’t want to go anywhere near the ship I landed in.”

  “Well,” the alien said. “I suppose that’s something. But sometimes he just walks out in the open.”

  “And they don’t kill him?”

  It occurred to Ray this might have been a tasteless question.

  “No,” the alien said. “Lord knows why. They don’t have anything like mercy.”

  “Hisssttnnn told me he thought they’d destroy your entire planet,” Ray said, continuing what he was beginning to think of wryly as his policy of tactfulness.

  “They already have,” the alien said. “We aren’t a viable race anymore. The environment has pretty much had it, too, I think. If they do blow up the whole planet, it’ll only be because they’ve suddenly developed a sense of decency.”

  “Is there nothing,” Ray asked. “That can be done?”

  “Believe me,” the alien said. “We tried what we could think of. Maybe diplomacy would’ve helped. But it’s far too late for that now.”

  There was alien shouting somewhere in the hangar.

  “I should go,” the alien said. “Before somebody bothers to check on the noise. Although why we bother staying alive, I’m not sure.”

  “Good luck,” Ray said.

  “You too,” the alien told him, and left to find its friends.

  Ray and Cinnamon meet a snag

  Finally left alone, Ray and Cinnamon had to decide on the next move.

  “If that’s Lucy out there, and it sure looks like it is,” Ray said, “we need to get in touch with her somehow. What we need to figure out is the best way to do it.”

  Cinnamon wagged her tail.

  “I suppose we could try to find a transmitter somewhere. But first of all there’s the problem of getting our hands on one.”

  Ray looked at his little translator.

  “This little gizmo, for instance,” he said. “There’s every possibility that it might work as a transmitter, if I only knew how to adjust it.”

  He turned it over in his hands, but there were no discernible features. It was a little box, about the size of a can of sardines, with a belt clip. There were no dials or buttons at all.

  “If there are adjustments to this thing,” Ray said. “They’ve got to be made by voice. That’s the only thing that goes into it. But wait a minute. Even assuming we got it to work as a transmitter, that wouldn’t be the end of our problems. For one thing, we’d have to use a frequency she was monitoring, and for another, we could only hope no one else bothered to listen.”