Aliena Too (18 page)

This was odd, but hardly the first time the child had surprised her. Aliena didn't argue. “As you wish.” She put in a call to Quincy and Explora, and they came to the wall. Maple went to join them.

The Smythes approached. “She insisted,” Johnson said.

“She can be strong-willed,” Rebecca said.

“I have noticed,” Aliena agreed. “She is concerned for my romantic welfare.”

“So are we,” Johnson said. “You recruited us against our preference, some time back, and we are extraordinarily glad, in retrospect, that you did. We loved our daughter, then came to love you in her place. Now we love Star also. But most of all we love Maple, even though at times she can be a pain in the posterior.”

“We think you have a similar progression to make,” Rebecca said. “You loved Brom. Now you must love Quincy. It's not exclusive.”

“And accept Explora as part of the mix,” Johnson said.

“I was the one who selected Explora and sent her to him,” Aliena reminded them.

“Not the same. She's trying to help you, as are we all, but you're holding us off. Maple is really upset.”

“The committee!” Aliena said. “They put you up to this.”

“They love you too,” Rebecca said.

Aliena saw two aspects of this. One was the sheer impertinence of their presuming to interfere in her social life. The other was the fact that she did need some kind of support and guidance. The continuing stress of the countdown was wearing her down. “What do you recommend?”

“A new perspective,” Johnson said. “Sometimes an insoluble problem becomes solvable if you can only look at it another way.”

“The countdown is now ten hours. Then it will be nine, and eight, and on down to none. I can't change that no matter how I look at it.”

“Think of it this way,” Rebecca said. “What will be, will be. If it is the end of the world, what would you want to do in the interim?”

“I'd want to be with Brom,” Aliena said sadly. “In human host. To face the end with him.”

“And what of Star?” Johnson asked. “Would you cast her out?”

“No! She needs him too. So I can't do what I want, even in a thought experiment. I'm lost regardless.”

“Unless you can move on. Quincy is a good man, and he understands your situation better than anyone else can. You
can
be with him.”

“In my original state I would not hesitate to do what is rational,” Aliena said. “But I have been corrupted by my human experience, and become, to that extent, irrational.”

“And that becomes you, dear,” Rebecca said, smiling.

What irony! “Thank you.”

The countdown continued. They waited helplessly.

The six members of the brief committee were at the space station, together with their babies, Maple, and the grandparents when the countdown reached zero. They were all nervously alert for they knew not what. Explora was monitoring the sensors so that Aliena could be with the others.

“Alert,” Explora reported. “There is a marking on the moon.”

They hastily checked. The spaceship was orbiting the moon, so it was always in sight. There, on the side away from Earth, was a lighted circular print about a kilometer in diameter.

“The alien base,” Gloaming said. “The countdown was merely to alert us to its manifestation.”

“Could it be that simple?” Star asked.

“Sure it could,” Maple said. “They want us to find them. Now all we have to do is go there and meet them.”

A glance circled human and starfish bodies alike. The girl's guess was as good as theirs. Maple was the child of a human woman with an alien brain; she had no fear of alien contact.

“I will land a robot crew to investigate,” Aliena said.

“Nuh-uh,” Maple said. “The proctors didn't go to all this trouble to meet with robots. It's got to be a living party.”

Another glance circulated. The child had empathy with aliens.

“I will do it,” Aliena said.

“I will go with you,” Quincy said.

“Me too,” Maple said.

No one argued. This business was so new and different that there were no established protocols. “I will run the ship,” Explora said. “The landing craft is ready.”

They got into spacesuits: two starfish, one small human. Then into the landing craft. The robots piloted it smoothly down to the edge of the glowing circle.

They depressurized, opened the hatch, and emerged to the surface of the moon. It was light and the terrain was hot, but they were shielded. The suits were designed to mimic the motions of the wearers, so Maple skipped ahead on two big feet while Aliena and Quincy slid along on multiple little feet. The light gravity of the moon made them heavier than they were in deep water, but they were able to handle it. Their suits transmitted their words to each other and the folk on the orbiting spaceship so that they could readily talk, and they could see well enough through the visors.

They came to the ring of light. It was just there, as if projected from a lamp above, but there was no lamp. Maple poked a glove at it.

“Caution,” Aliena and Quincy said almost together.

“If they wanted to burn us they'd have done it long ago,” Maple said. Her glove illuminated in the light without suffering any damage. “It's just a marker.”

They crossed the line, entering the big circle. Aliena reviewed the map of this section she had memorized. There was no change in the landscape; it was as it had always been, before the advent of man or starfish.

“Maybe the center,” Quincy said. “Like a bull's-eye.”

In the center was a natural spire of the type left by a meteor impact. This was a small one, about a meter high. It might have been formed a million years ago, or a billion, untouched since. Nothing else.

“Maybe it's a door latch,” Maple said. She put out her hands and pushed against the spire.

It moved, sliding off the base to reveal a raised flat surface like that of a felled tree. They stared. The child had found something the adults had never thought to look for: a sliding panel. This was definitely artificial, but what was it?

“Maybe it's a game console,” Maple said. She poked with a gloved finger.

There was a melodic note, traveling through the ground. Again, she had discovered something they would not have thought to look for.

“Well, now,” Maple said. She poked with another finger, evoking another note. Then she planted all her fingers together, producing a jangling chord.

“This is a musical instrument,” Quincy said.

“And we have to play the right tune,” Aliena agreed.

There was silence from the watchers on the ship, who could see everything they did. They were as fascinated as Aliena and Quincy were. All because of the child.

“I can do Chopsticks,” Maple said. She found the places for the right notes and played a credible version.

But that was all; the stump was musically active, but the site was otherwise inert. Quincy and Aliena took their turns, picking out tunes, but there was no apparent audience. They were unable to find the right one.

Had they come all this way only to fail? Aliena was sure that it would not be possible to force the lock, if that was what this was; it would likely self destruct before yielding, and all would be lost. There had to be a sound that keyed an entrance. But what was it?

Maple got bored and started jumping, higher and higher, enjoying her ability to go much farther than she could on Earth. “I'm a bird!” she cried jubilantly.

“Caution,” Quincy said, moving toward her. “The fact that jumping is easy here doesn't mean it's safe.”

Indeed, even as he spoke, Maple lost her balance and fell head first, unable to right herself in the vacuum. She screamed.

The suits had emergency jets. Both adults activated theirs and flew toward the falling child. Aliena saw that she would not make it in time. But Quincy did, and he lifted his arms in a basket pattern to catch Maple before she struck the ground. Her plummeting weight bore him to the ground, but she was cushioned by his hold.

Aliena caught up immediately after, fearing that her daughter was hurt. “I'm okay!” Maple said.

Relief flooded her system. Maple was okay. Because Quincy had caught her. He had saved her daughter, the person she loved most.

Her reticence dissipated. Aliena laid an arm over one of his, and sang, sounding her Note of Joy.

Quincy understood immediately what it meant. “Oh, Aliena!” he said. “I love you too! I have longed to hear you sing for me.”

“I wasn't ready.” She flashed in her suit, and it glowed in emulation. “Until I was.”

“Look!” Maple exclaimed, pointing as she scrambled to the ground.

They untangled and looked. The music pedestal had slid to the side. Light was shining up from the hole it had uncovered. A passage slanted down into the ground.

“It wasn't the music,” Quincy said. “That was only the accompaniment. It was love.”

“Or the song of love,” Aliena agreed. “That was the key.”

“Sure,” Maple agreed, running fearlessly ahead. “They don't want mean people. The want nice folk who love. And we do.”

“We do,” Quincy agreed.

“We do,” Aliena echoed. She was finally ready to move on.

The hole widened as they approached. A shape emerged from it. It was a human man in a spacesuit. No, a humanoid robot.

Maple stepped right up to it. “Hi, Robot! We're here to meet the proctors,” she said brightly. “Can you zoom in on our language?”

The robot paused. Then it said “Welcome, sapients who love.”

“I'm Maple. This is my mom, Aliena. She's a starfish. And my other-dad-to-be, Quincy. He's a human in starfish host.”

The robot contemplated them, and actually did a double take. They were clearly not what it had expected, here near the human planet. “You must have an interesting history.”

“We sure do,” Maple said. “Are you going to invite us in?”

Epilogue

It was a humanoid robot because the proctors two hundred thousand years ago had noted that humans were the best prospect for local technological sapience. They established their local base and seeded the planet with their miniature sensors, patiently awaiting the time when the species would advance enough to detect them. The sensors were not the sophisticated machines we thought, but simply receivers attuned to an observation field of the correct nature. Anything more complicated was likely to break down in the course of such a span of time, in the harsh chemical environment of Earth. That was what had set off their measured pulsing, followed by the illumination of the location of the moon base. It was indeed love that animated it; otherwise it would have remained closed and we would never had made direct contact with the proctors. I wonder whether Maple, my conniving daughter, really did lose control at the moment Quincy was closer to her than I, actively promoting our union? She understood my conflicted emotions better than I did. Yet none of us knew then that love was the key.

The proctors are not a single entity but a galactic alliance of sapient species that has been alert for new members for millions of years. The starfish were also prospects. The local base is staffed by machines, but soon we expect living creatures to emerge from stasis and take over. This is not immediate because we have much to learn before it will be worth the proctors' direct attention. It is as if a cave man happened upon the Internet: it would take him time to learn to use it.

What was not anticipated was that the starfish would connect with the sapients of Earth before discovering the base in their own system. So as it turned out, both our species were admitted together. We are joining the Society of Sapients, and will profit enormously with their help. They have technology that relates to ours as a sun relates to a planet. All the problems of Earth are about to be abated, politics permitting; we will try to use the new knowledge to guarantee that there will be no more hunger, pollution, or ignorance, and that all creatures of Earth prosper, human and nonhuman. It will surely be a challenge to get it right.

But what concerns me most at the moment is more personal. They also can make androids, that is, living creatures shaped in the laboratory, that emulate any form desired. That can support living brains. Quincy and I can have human bodies again, fully functional and healthy, complete with feeling. Or bodies perfectly emulating our original ones, if we so desire. We can mix on an even human basis with the humans we know and love. But I am conflicted again: do we really want to? Or is this something we would be better advised to leave alone? I am not sure how I would relate to meeting my human body with a different brain, or how Brom or Lida would react to the reappearance of their original spouses seeming exactly like their present spouses, but now married to each other. What about the children? Maple has adapted well, but this might be beyond even her emotional capability. What of the new children, Quill and Bliss? It may be best simply to focus on the phenomenal benefits accruing to our species from this galactic association.

So I am happy now, yet unsettled. The new options require new decisions, and I can't be sure that we will make the right ones.

I am Aliena, in doubt, signing off for now.

Author's Note

The first novel,
Aliena
, was intended to be a singleton. But as has happened before, notably with my first Xanth novel, there turned out to be more to tell. So I told it, only to discover that the story still was unfinished. Stories do that, and so do characters; they develop wills of their own and lead the author around by the nose. Aliena will surely choose to have an android body in her original image, despite knowing the complications that will generate; she can't help herself. After all, she can leave Explora to run the ship, assuming Explora doesn't want a human body too so that she can really rev it up. Brom, having dutifully given Aliena up and dedicated himself to Star, will now have to come to terms with what seems like identical twins, both of whom he loves, and who love him back. Lida will face the same problem with Quincy and Gloaming. Brom and Lida have had no romantic interest in each other, but now will find in each other the only other unchanged humans who completely understand their situation. That's potent temptation. So will Gloaming and Star be driven together similarly? This is soap opera substance that is best avoided in a science fiction novel, but Quincy and Aliena will plunge heedlessly into it, against the backdrop of a world facing changes of unprecedented magnitude. It promises to be a wild ride.