by Stella Cassy
“And?”
“And nothing. Just Earth. We’ve visited the moon, too. And sent probes to most of the other planets.”
I stared at her long and hard to work out whether she was kidding with me or not.
“Do you mean to say, that with all these planets ripe for the plucking, you only inhabit one of them?”
“That’s right. The others aren’t exactly hospitable. Some are too hot, some too cold, some have atmospheres that would burn through our skin in an instant.”
“But why don’t you move them? And fix their atmospheres? The resources you have available here…” I shook my head in disbelief. What were these humans even doing with their system?
“Umm. I don’t think we have the technology for that yet.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe we do but we don’t use it? I think most people are just busy on Earth doing their own thing. They don’t really think about stuff like terraforming planets or colonizing them.”
Unbelievable.
“But what about your king, your rulers? Do they not crave the wealth of your solar system? Why do they not order their slaves to research the technology and begin the process of seeding the rest of your system with humans?”
Talia put her palms up in one of those I don’t really know gestures.
“Slaves? Oh, we don’t do that anymore.”
As far as I could tell she wasn’t kidding around again. She actually seemed to be telling the truth. Though she did seem to find my questions slightly amusing.
“Don’t do what? Slaves?”
“Nope.”
“But you’re one.”
“Yeah, but as I’ve told you multiple times, I wasn’t one on Earth. I mean, it still kind of exists in some places, but in general it’s not allowed. Not among our advanced societies. And if anyone’s caught trying to practice slavery, they get in big trouble.”
“But how do you get anything done?” I stared at the map on the screen again. “Don’t answer. I can see. You don’t.”
Talia looked a little affronted at that and began to pout. But surely she understood what I meant.
“People do the work they want to do. Mainly. And I guess what gets done, is what society wants to get done. We want hamburgers, so we have hamburger shops and hamburger makers. We want airplanes, so we have airplane manufacturers, airline companies, and people who’ll pay to ride in them.”
No wonder they were stuck on one paltry planet.
“But people don’t know what they want. As a species, I mean. You need kings and slaves for real progress — to conquer the stars!”
Clearly her education had been sorely lacking because she gave me an incredibly skeptical look. If we were to spend any more time together, I’d need to teach her about how the universe really worked. Not whatever fluff-covered hellhole of a society they’d made down on their planet.
“What does your ruler actually do, if not instruct the people to work for the progress of your species?”
“Which one?”
“Which one what?” I growled. Her confusion was surely put on.
“Which ruler? We have more than a hundred countries, most of which don’t even have a single ruler. They have parliaments and congresses, diets and assemblies. They have representatives and senators, assemblymen and—”
I waved a hand for her to stop talking. “It sounds like a mess of a society.”
“We don’t have a society, we have lots of them.”
Slumping down into my captain’s chair I shook my head in confusion at her and her race. What a disorganized mob they were. Even Minapolis knew the importance of organizing society after a goal — in their case the pursuit of trade and finance. It sounded like these humans just did whatever they felt like without any proper guidance or plan.
No wonder you only saw them out in the ‘verse when they were in chains.
Perhaps it was lucky though.
If they ever organized themselves, they might be dangerous. It didn’t seem like there was any danger of that any time soon though.
“If I were in charge, you would work toward terraforming the planets of the system, moving them to more suitable orbits, and building a mighty fleet to conquer the stars. But instead you just… what do people do?”
Talia shrugged, then walked across the bridge until she was standing behind my captain’s chair. She draped her soft, weak arms over my shoulders.
“We try to find things that give us satisfaction. We play. We raise families and build homes.”
What would any Drakon do but snort at such nonsense?
“Don’t laugh until you’ve tried it,” she said over my shoulder.
“I shall give you one thing,” I said as I turned my head to speak to her in a low voice so that my crew couldn’t overhear, “I like one of the Earth things I’ve tried.”
Her hands seemed to press against my chest in acknowledgement. She, too, had liked what she had tried of the Drakon. I was tempted to stand up, lean her over the chair and have my way with her again. I knew she wouldn’t complain, insatiable girl that she was. But no, not in front of the crew. Not if word could get back to Thirren.
I could clear the bridge…
But no, that wouldn’t look innocent either. I would wait until I could satisfy myself at my leisure. Perhaps even on her own planet. I was developing a serious addiction to her soft, warm embraces and the way she so eagerly let me fill her. It was becoming clear to me what Tarion Hielsrane, and the others who had taken human lovers, had been thinking. Previously I’d thought their proclivity for this alien species to be a kind of weakness, but now I was realizing that it wasn’t weakness — it was simply a form of pleasure seeking. And perhaps a little helpful counsel as well.
“First Officer, I want a map of the planet on the screen.”
Thrantok did as he was told. I did not know whether it was a map already stored on our computer systems that had been gained during intelligence raids, or whether he had hacked Earth’s systems and obtained it from them directly. It did not matter how it was done — it was well below my pay grade.
“Slave,” I said to my human, making sure my crew could hear I was still talking to her with the level of respect she deserved, “show us where to head for. First Officer, try and keep us off their sensors until we have assessed the situation up close.”
With the small ship humming nicely, and a new glimmer of hope that my mission would be a success, we headed for the planet they unimaginatively called Earth, our ship navigated by what must have been the prettiest thing to have come out of their planet in its history.
This was going to be interesting.
Very interesting indeed.
18
Talia
Talia
Before choosing our precise destination, I had to figure out what day it was, or at least what time of year. I knew I’d been away from Earth for a long time, but I didn’t know exactly how long. Even if I had counted the days on Minapolis, which I hadn’t, it wouldn’t have helped that much since the days were the wrong length anyway.
“Thrantok?” I called across the bridge. It was the first time I’d spoken to the gruff first officer. “Can you pull up some signals from Earth? Like a news channel or something?”
Rethryn looked at me curiously for a moment, before turning to his first officer, who had not yet moved.
“Do as she asks.”
Thrantok worked at his console, and a few moments later an image was projected on the screen. All I needed was the date. I’d been away so long, I’d completely lost track of the time. I wasn’t sure if it had been six months, or two or three years.
Unfortunately the text on the image on the screen was completely in Chinese. I couldn’t even figure out the date.
“Not that one… try another one.”
He began cycling through various signals. We got through live video streams that seemed to be in Japanese, Korean, and at least two different Indian languages before, finally an American news channel
appeared.
“Stop!” I found what I was looking for in the corner of the screen. “Whoah! It’s July 4th!”
“What does that mean?” asked Rethryn. While our universal translator chips worked very well with all the known languages, they weren’t perfect. Some cultural references hadn’t been translated, and as I had just learned from watching the video screen, they hadn’t translated all the Earth languages yet either. They needed more data.
“It means it’s summer, which means my family will be in the Hamptons. And it’s a very special day.” It also meant that it was actually nearly two years since I’d been kidnapped. It made me think about all I’d missed. What amazing parties had I been absent for? Which limited edition designer bags had I failed to snap up? How many weddings did I miss out on being the bridesmaid at? Which celebrities had broken up with each other or got together?
A brief thought crossed my mind — does any of that stuff matter? Then with a jolt it hit me: of course it does!
“What’s so special about this July fourth? Does it commemorate a glorious victory over vanquished foes?”
I cocked my head at him. “Actually, it does.”
Rethryn nodded approvingly but didn’t comment further. Finally something about Earth he didn’t criticize. I suspected that if I explained to him that the Brits had not been enslaved or exterminated his disapproval would rapidly return.
“I need a destination,” Thrantok said.
That was my job.
“Put the map back on the screen… okay, zoom in on that continent… up there… to the right a bit… and zoom… and zoom… up a bit… and… that’s it! My house!”
The map Thrantok was using seemed to be basically the same as the one I’d used on my phone, back before I’d been kidnapped. It was odd seeing the satellite-produced image of my summer home from the bridge of an alien spacecraft. But it was probably about the ten thousandth most odd thing I’d seen since my adventure began, so it barely fazed me.
“Do not proceed yet, first officer. We shall wait until this part of the globe is under cover of darkness. We do not wish to announce our presence too soon.”
“Good idea.” I didn’t think the Hamptons were quite ready for a spaceship to land in the middle of a fourth of July barbecue.
I remembered that one of our summer house neighbors was quite strident in his dislike for illegal aliens. And the Drakon aboard the ship definitely didn’t have visas.
Thrantok left the satellite map on the screen, and I stared at it longingly. Down below the chef was no doubt grilling up some burgers, and when I closed my eyes, I almost felt like I could smell them.
They’d probably be drinking beer instead of champagne with them too. And there’d be hotdogs. With mustard and onions. Mmm. And the housekeeper made the best potato salad. There’d be leftovers, I was sure, and I was going to eat all of them. Or at least until I burst.
“Do you still care for this planet?” asked Rethryn curiously.
“Of course I do! It’s home!”
“But now you’ve seen the universe. You’ve seen how efficiently societies can be run. I’ve explained to you many of the failings of your species. Yet you still long for them?”
“Of course! Your society might be a bit more efficient, but where are the Burberry handbags?”
“The… what?” Our translator chips seemed to be struggling.
“And the Louboutin shoes? The Gucci dresses? The Chanel perfume? The Tiffany jewelry? The Swiss watches?”
“What are these things? Treasure?”
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “Treasure. The most important treasure in the universe. And I miss it. I miss all of it.” It was all coming back to me, all the little things I yearned for. “VIP rooms in night clubs, champagne on ice, Bentley’s with drivers and housekeepers who make your bed just right. Spur of the moment parties in Miami just because. Skiing in the Rockies or the Alps…” my words trailed off as I tried to remember what else I missed.
“All your people live like this?”
“Not everyone,” I conceded. “But in my social circle we do. Everyone else aspires to it.”
“It sounds like a waste of resources. Decadent.”
“Is living comfortably a waste, though?”
“Yes,” Rethryn said emphatically. “It is. Though perhaps we can divert some of these wasted resources to the rebuilding of Thirren.”
I nodded. When I told him Earth might be able to help, I hadn’t imagined it would be on a scale that would affect our lifestyles. I certainly hoped that wasn’t what he had in mind.
We waited until it was dark before landing. I pointed out an area on the map for us to set the ship down, right at the rear of the backyard. No one would be around that part of the grounds after dark, they would be grouped up near the house and the grill pit, and around the floodlit pool and jacuzzi.
Almost trembling with excitement, I watched on the screen as we flew down to Earth. From up high we could make out the lights of the big cities — New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington DC, and then as they left our field of view, we zoomed in on the comparatively less bright areas of the Hamptons. As we got closer and closer, I began to pick out the various small towns I’d visited every summer since childhood.
Then there was our neighborhood, near the shore. My body tingled at the sight of it as I thought of all the people I knew who would be down there, celebrating.
Thrantok guided the ship to the spot I had indicated in a secluded area at the back of our summer house’s grounds. He approached quickly from over the water to avoid casual observers on the ground from spotting the ship. He set us down swiftly so the noise of our spacecraft wouldn’t have time to draw too much attention.
“You and I shall go first,” said Rethryn.
It figured. I knew the chances of being allowed out on my own were slim, but I had still been a little hopeful.
“I guess we’ll tell people you’re in a costume.”
Rethryn scowled at me. I put my palms up in an innocent expression.
“What? If go around telling people that you’re an alien they’ll lock me up for being crazy. We’ll just say you’re some cosplayer I met in California. They think Californians are whack anyway.”
Rethryn did not complain further, but he had the look of reserved judgement rather than acceptance of my plan.
“You lead, I shall follow close behind you. It may be best if I stay out of visual range initially until a meeting has been arranged.”
“You could just stay on the ship…?”
Rethryn’s low growl was all the response I needed to not push that argument.
When the gangway was lowered, the first thing that hit me was the air. It had been so long since I’d breathed the particular mix of gases that make up the atmosphere on planet Earth that it caused a wave of nostalgia to hit me harder than I’d been expecting.
It’s odd the things that affect you the most. Air wasn’t something I’d even thought about much for the last couple of years. But the smell of a salty, warm summer ocean breeze, laced with the distant aroma of charcoal and grilling meat was enough to make me pause, and enjoy another deep breath.
“Is there a problem?”
“No. It’s just it finally feels real, that’s all.”
Rethryn grunted.
“Come on,” I said, and walked down the gangway at a quick pace.
I hadn’t found any shoes to fit me recently, so it was with bare feet that I walked across the dewy grass. I knew the path that we were on. It would wind through a small copse of trees, and then out to the back of the house’s large backyard lawn.
“This doesn’t feel right…” I muttered with a sense of foreboding.
“What?”
“Let’s just see.”
The problem was the noise. Or lack of it. Even down here, at the bottom of our property, I should have been able to hear the party. My parents always held one on the fourth; it was a tradition that went back to my great-grandpa
rents’ era.
But as we walked, the sounds of merriment and festivities resolutely failed to reveal themselves.
When we emerged out on the back lawn, I stared in disbelief. The house was ahead of us alright, but there was nothing else. It was unlit. There was no grill going. There were no people celebrating. It looked abandoned.
“This isn’t right, there should be a party here.” I pointed up toward the house.
“But there isn’t. Perhaps your leaders have seen sense and are making the people work on some worthwhile project instead. Maybe even at this very moment they are working on a fleet of mighty war vessels to conquer the stars!”
“Ha!” I slapped my knee. “Yeah right. No, I’m sure that hasn’t happened. But something definitely has. Come on.”
Although my house was deathly silent, the distant sound of another party could be heard. It was the neighbors, the Mulligans. They had always held a competing party, and it seemed theirs hadn’t been cancelled this year.
There used to be a way to get to their yard without heading out onto the street. I just hoped it was still there.
As a child I had played with the Mulligans’ own two children in the eternal summers of youth. One year, we had loosened several boards in the fencing near the bottom of their yard, and after that time we had roamed freely between the two properties.
With Rethryn trailing behind me, I headed for the spot. Sure enough, the boards were still loose, and I turned them so that they were open. The hole they revealed was a lot smaller than I remembered, but thanks to two years of the space-slave diet, I could just about fit through.
“I don’t think you’ll get through here,” I said, staring down at the gap.
Rethryn laughed. He then took several steps backward, and with an athletic grace I should have suspected but had not yet seen, he sprinted toward the fence, leaping off the ground several yards before reaching it, gripping the top with a crunch of his taloned hands, and flipping his entire body through a hundred and eighty degrees before landing on the other side.
Clapping my hands together in a brief round of applause, I congratulated him.
