“Is that alright?” Zin asked. There were nods all around.
“Marie will observe more,” Tonia said.
Zin nodded. “Yes. Be aware, Marie, that you will visualize what the rest cannot. Feel free to let others know what you see.”
The nearby trees parted and a large animal with multiple legs stepped through. Tonia swiveled. “Our escort arrives.”
The Worker stood on four sturdy legs that angled like the hind legs of a horse. Each tapered to a padded foot. Two additional armlike appendages dangled in front ending in a flat hand, like a flipper. Its body was covered in a thick carpet of hair that glistened with oil of some kind. It had a long neck that lifted from the front and ended in a cone shape that was split into four sections that moved like lips over a central mouth. There was no head to speak of, but two slender stalks protruded from the conical end of the neck, about eight inches long, with glassy blue marbles perched at the ends.
The beast stopped before it reached the group and stood tall on its four hind legs. Stretched to its full height, the Worker towered over them. Marie’s visualization provided details, though she had no idea how the information entered her mind: 3.4 meters in height, 1,240 kilos. Giant sloths had roamed the Earth before humans. There were some similarities.
Tonia motioned to the slothlike creature. “This Worker will escort us. Do you have any questions?”
The creature’s mouth moved, its four segments shifting as if it were chewing. It emitted a low groaning sound. Follow me, it seemed to be saying.
“Did you guys hear that?” Marie asked, looking around at her teammates.
“Yeah,” Tim said. “The thing is a farm animal.”
Marie had heard the same groaning sound but also its meaning. It had not used words per se, but the meaning was just as clear. This was definitely no farm animal.
“Only you will understand,” Tonia said to Marie. “The others will hear only vibrations.”
Beastlike, but intelligent. It was dressed, too… in a way. A dull-colored cloth hung over its back, with holes cut for each of its four hind legs. A patch of cloth hung over its rear end, covering sexual organs—at least, that was what the visualization indicated. Two sex organs; each individual was both male and female.
The Worker turned and started down a gravel path in a slow, plodding step. Tonia and Zin followed behind, and the group of humans fell in line after them. From behind, the Worker smelled. Not like a farm animal and not entirely bad, but a foody smell, like cheese, or maybe warm milk.
One planet, two intelligent species, Marie thought. But they couldn’t be more different. Something similar could have happened on Earth if dolphins had developed further.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Worker village was less developed than anything they’d seen in the realm of the Dancers. Buildings were made of wood frames with rusting metal roofs and sides open to the air. The tropical trees and dense vegetation gave it a South Pacific island look. They walked along a curving main road of dirt. At one point a vehicle passed by, rolling on multiple wheels that could easily have been made of hard rubber.
They turned down a smaller dirt path, which brought them to a clearing in the trees and the largest building in the village. The noise of machinery could be heard, with much activity visible through its open sides. A mechanical view of a factory seemed to appear on its own inside Marie’s head. She visualized a repetitive process, an assembly line with the clamor coming primarily from the machines, not the dozens of Workers who took positions along the line.
“We will pass through the factory just once,” Tonia said. “Observe, but please do not stop. We will talk once we arrive in their quiet room.”
It was a sweatshop, literally. Metal machines were everywhere, turning axles, spinning drills and generating an overwhelming heat. Steam-powered, as Marie’s mechanical visualization told her, though there was also overhead lighting that looked similar to electric lights on Earth.
Long tables with Workers on each side held parts of some kind that were being passed from one individual to the next, each Worker fitting a new component into the device and checking its function. Their flat flipperlike hands were split down the middle, and the creatures were surprisingly adept at manipulating cylindrical tools that helped in their work.
Unfortunately, the place stunk—a combination of an oil smell and the stink of rotting food. Most of the smell seemed to be coming from tall open-top cylinders positioned next to each table. They looked like garbage cans.
Every Worker wore a headband almost identical to the one on Marie’s head. In their case, it rested near the end of their necks, looking almost like a dog collar. Marie flipped to a communications layer and visualized a deep blue radio link between her headband and the nearest Worker, but the same link cascaded from one Worker to the next. None of the beasts spoke; their headbands provided full communication as they assembled the parts of whatever machine they were building.
They worked with an intensity and maintained undistracted focus. Marie could feel it, sense it. Remarkably, a group of humans was walking through their factory only a few feet away from their activity. Yet none of the Workers seemed to notice.
She could have picked up one of the metal bars leaning against a post and struck one of the Workers across its back, but there was little doubt that its focus would have remained fixed on its purpose. Bred to work? Or controlled by the headband? The answer wasn’t clear.
One Worker turned to the cylindrical garbage can, lowered its neck and spewed a stream of greenish-yellowish liquid from its mouth, some of which splattered across the cylinder’s side. Another Worker next to it did the same. The disgusting moves were repeated as a wave of Workers spat into the cans and then returned to their work. It appeared to be a group bodily function of some kind, like a communal bathroom break. The stink in the factory increased noticeably.
They exited the factory, and Marie and Stephanie exchanged glances of disgust. The group was ushered into a separate building, the only one they’d seen with walls. The noise of the factory disappeared when a door closed behind them.
“Well, that was revolting,” Stephanie said.
“Their work disturbs you?” Tonia asked.
“Not their work, their lack of personal hygiene. Sorry, I don’t mean to be critical. I guess they’re just different from us or the Dancers.”
“The variety of life is notable,” Tonia answered. “Even on your own world.”
“My apologies to all of you,” Zin said quite sympathetically. “I neglected to warn about the spitting. Their digestive systems are similar to your own, except that the bile you generate in your liver occurs in their throats. They must excrete it back through their mouth on occasion. I should have mentioned this, but my olfactory sensor was turned off.”
Stephanie spoke quietly to Marie. “I’m withdrawing my earlier statement. I don’t think I could live here.”
“Not even on a temporary ambassador status?” Marie asked with a grin. “We can tag-team. I’ll be the ambassador for the Dancers, and you can take the Workers.”
“Very funny,” Stephanie answered. “I think I’ll stick to reporting.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their guide brought them to two more buildings. The first was another factory, this one enclosed. The headband provided precise measurements of the components being manufactured, giving Marie a clear indication of high technology. At one point, the images injected into Marie’s brain became distorted and fuzzy. It gave her a queasy feeling, and she pulled the band off for a few minutes.
Like virtual reality motion sickness? The queasiness soon passed, and she replaced the band on her head as they entered the second building.
It was described as a ceremonial hall, though as Tim suggested, church seemed to be a more apt description. Several Workers sat in a circle, drawing smoke from a communal pipe and chanting. Kleek shell, Zin identified. Their words honored their ancestors. It was all very interesting until
one of the Workers pulled a small rodentlike animal from a box and popped the wriggling creature live into its mouth.
After the ceremony, they moved to an empty building next to the church for a lunch break, but no one was very hungry. Stephanie and Wesley engaged Zin and Tonia in a deep conversation about the relationship between the Dancers and the Workers. Tim sat on a porch step, sending a video message back to NASA through his hip-mounted relay. Marie wandered outside through the open doorway.
Still wearing the headband, Marie flipped through several fascinating layers of visualization. She scanned the palmlike trees and noticed the transpiration of water through their leaves and the process of photosynthesis discharging oxygen. Even if plant DNA was entirely different, plant chemistry was the same as on Earth.
A new layer popped up—something to do with communication alerts, though Marie had no idea how it had been selected. She tapped on the side of her head. “That’s funny. I’m not sure I’m in control of this thing.”
Tim looked up from his message. “Well, Kendrick, if you aren’t, then nobody is.”
From behind the church, the sky lit up in red.
Help me!
Marie swiveled, looking for the source. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Tim.
“A cry for help.”
“You might want put that thing in airplane mode,” Tim said. The red color behind the church intensified.
I am lost. Please help me!
It groaned. The cry was from a Worker, Marie was certain.
“Someone’s in trouble.” Marie ran a dozen steps to get a better view around the church. The visualization showed a red glow hovering over a clearing in the trees. An open platform stood alone in the clearing with a figure standing its center. “I’ll be right back,” Marie said to Tim and started toward the platform.
“Kendrick, just stay put,” Tim griped. “You’re imagining things.”
Marie heard him, but the information within the communications alert visualization advised her otherwise. The deepening red color signified suffering and fear. A Worker was in agonizing pain. Marie ran toward the platform.
I have sinned. Doubt has been cast upon me. Save me!
The platform was a low wooden frame with another large plank of wood standing straight up from its surface. Heavy wood, very solid. The crying Worker was tied to the vertical plank, unable to move. Marie stopped at its edge and surveyed the scene. Except for the bound Worker, no one else was around. She stepped onto the platform.
Help me, Highest One. Please help me.
The Worker writhed in agony. A bloody slice had been taken from its hide in a loop around its body about two inches wide. A yellowy pus oozed from the terrible wound and fouled the platform. Bloody straps tied each leg to the plank.
Finally realizing the full extent of the horror, her stomach churned. “Oh my God, they’ve scalped it and tied it up with its own skin.”
Tim came running up behind her. “Kendrick. What the hell are you doing?”
Marie spun around, her blood boiling with anger. “Monsters! They’re crucifying their own!”
“Kendrick, it’s none of our business.” Tim grabbed her elbow.
“The hell it isn’t.” Marie felt the blood pressure in her head ready to burst the band. “Torture is everyone’s business.”
Marie suddenly felt dizziness sweeping over her. Overhead, the red sky turned black and her vision distorted. The Worker, still twisting against its bindings, transformed into a figure composed of thousands of dots. So did the platform. Vibrating dots, a bizarre scene of colored pixels all wiggling in place.
She lurched forward, trying to find something to steady herself. She touched flesh, bloody and oozing. She pulled her hand away and held it before her eyes.
It wasn’t her hand at all. Thousands more of the vibrating dots covered what should have been fingers. The dots changed before her eyes, coming alive like a swarm of insects.
The buzzing, vibrating bugs crawled up her arm, advancing quickly. Her heart leaped and she shook her arm violently. Below, more insects covered the platform and began creeping up her legs beneath her jumpsuit. They pricked her skin with needlelike claws.
But it’s not real. None of this is real.
The headband told her so. She fought to believe its lesson even as the sharp pain of a thousand insect stings invaded her nervous system.
She pivoted to run and fell off the platform. As she lay on the dirt, a wave of nausea overcame her. The last thing she saw was Tim’s face, pixelated, vibrating, with hordes of crawling insects pouring from his eyes.
13
Brainwaves
The four katanauts walked briskly behind Jessica and past a line of reporters in the Kennedy Space Center O&C clean room. Zin followed at the rear, perhaps symbolically now that his job as guide was complete. All smiles, they waved to the cameras and acknowledged the applause from the small audience that rimmed the barrier. Tim high-fived his way down the line.
“Welcome home. How was it?” yelled a reporter as Marie walked past.
“Outstanding,” she replied with what little enthusiasm she could muster. True enough for the first day of their mission. It would take some time to absorb and process the disturbing parts of the second day. Her mood was nearly as foul as the stench of Worker spit. Quite the opposite of how she had pictured their return.
She’d recovered from what was surely a hallucination. The crawling insects had eventually disappeared, and after waiting a few minutes for her pounding heart to calm, so did the fear. But the episode of the tortured Worker and Marie’s subsequent collapse left her with a general unease—as if the mission had been compromised. Marie looked for someone to blame, but there was only herself. She shouldn’t have tried to intervene in Worker justice. The emotional intensity had triggered something in the headband. Something inside her head too.
Jessica led them to another part of the building and paused just outside a kitchen, where the smell of coffee wafted into the hall. “Take some personal time, everyone,” she told them. “Restrooms to your right; drinks and snacks are available in the break room. In a few minutes, we’ll go into the debriefing room as a group. No press and no cameras, but there’ll be plenty of big shots from NASA and ESA in there, so be ready.”
Marie examined the alien device she held in one hand. Its highly polished silver surface and evenly spaced electronic components around the outside made it look a little like a crown that a princess might wear.
Yeah. The big shots will certainly want to hear about this thing.
She handed the ring to Jessica. “Hold this for a second.” Without waiting for a response, Marie headed into the women’s room. Stephanie was already there, checking hair in the mirror.
Marie headed to the first sink and splashed cold water on her face repeatedly. She stared into the sink, watching the water circle the drain and droplets fall from her nose.
“You okay?” Stephanie asked.
“Yeah, fantastic,” Marie said in a monotone.
“You don’t look fantastic. You look beat.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m doing cartwheels inside.”
“It’s that crown thing, isn’t it? You hate it.”
“There’s no rule that says you have to like your job.” Marie splashed more cold water on her face.
“Don’t wear it anymore,” Stephanie suggested. Her sympathy was welcome, but her solution was unrealistic. “Tell them you’re not the right person to be handling such a burden.”
“Yeah, that conversation would go well.”
Stephanie swiveled. “Then I’ll tell them.”
Marie looked up, water dripping off her chin. She pointed a finger at Stephanie. “Don’t you dare!” Her tone was sharp, her voice loud. “I volunteered, and I’m going to see this shitstorm through to the end, so just stay out of it.” She immediately regretted her harsh words. Stephanie looked shocked and hurt. Marie hardly recognized herself.
She
lowered her head and leaned both hands on the counter, water dripping from her nose. “Sorry, Steph… I… sorry.”
The only women on the team had bonded, becoming more like friends than coworkers. How could they not? Together they’d visited another planet, and with all the drama of the second day, Stephanie had been nothing but kind. Marie felt like a different person had invaded her body. She’d never yelled at a colleague or a friend in her life.
Stephanie came closer and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. More than the rest of us. Be careful, will you?”
Marie smoothed the water off her face and reached for a paper towel. She looked Stephanie in the eyes, searching for the broader intuition provided by the alien device. An unnatural ability to see more than just reflected light in the visual spectrum … the ability to visualize.
Marie wasn’t wearing the alien headband. Stephanie’s eyes were eyes, nothing more. Marie dried her face with the towel and spoke quietly. “All my life, I’ve prepared for this opportunity. To step up. To make my family proud, make myself proud. To do what those macho guys out there couldn’t do. It’s here now, the opportunity. Maybe a little weirder than I’d imagined, but I’m not letting it go.”
Stephanie nodded. “I get it. You’re reaching for something bigger. Something important. I’ve been there myself. Sitting in that Soyuz rocket ready to launch, I figured I’d made the biggest blunder of my TV career. But I went ahead with it anyway.”
Marie smiled and then chuckled. “Well, at T-minus ten, you probably didn’t have many alternatives.”
Stephanie laughed. “No, I guess you’re right. So much for my grand words of inspiration for you.”
“Steph, I’ve seen your broadcasts. You’ve got plenty of inspirational words in you. But maybe not this time.”
Stephanie put a hand on each side of Marie’s face, leaned close and kissed her once on each cheek. “Mon amie. As you Americans say, hang in there. Okay?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The debriefing room was crowded with many faces that Marie didn’t recognize. The NASA contingent sat along one side of a long table, Augustin Ibarra along with several other NASA administrators. The vice president of the United States sat at the far end of the table. She’d never seen the man in person before.
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