After the Party

Month 6 Day 25

2357 Hours

Smitty

Sitting at the engineering console on the bridge, Smitty glanced around when the lift doors opened. Don’t be daft, Smitty. It’s only the midnight crew. The partiers won’t come from the lift.

Lt Xylander seemed surprised to see Smitty sitting on the bridge so late, but relieved Lt Garcia and sat down to start his shift without any comment. The surge of activity around him almost made Smitty get up, but he knew if he did, he would pace, and he didn’t want anyone to think he was nervous about... anything.

He didn’t know how much later it was when he heard Lt Evans ask, “Is that smoke? Does anybody else see that?”

Smitty whirled his chair around and saw 3 areas of blackness forming, coalescing... He smiled in relief, having seen this several times by now. “That, Mr Evans, is the way the locals travel through space.” I’ve never asked how far they can get with that beam. I’d think it only possible for relatively short distances. Hope I’ll have time to ask before we leave.

The blackness resolved itself into people. Smitty was happy to see that the 2 balls containing 2 people each appeared to have functioned correctly, but he wiped the smile from his face. Don’t need any loose lips wagging about nothing more than a smile.

Takor stood alone, wearing its dress uniform, which - other than being white - did not look much like the dress uniforms worn by the captain and Colleen. It stood silently, but Smitty couldn’t tell if it was as uncomfortable as its straight back implied.

“Wow!” the captain exclaimed, removing her hat. “That’s some way to travel! How far can it take you?”

“We’ve only used it between Yukosk and Nalo, our bigger moon,” S’thyme replied. The Yukosk wore bright gray, and the bearded man let go of Colleen’s hand to unfasten the jacket front and take a breath. “We are working to try to reach Qlon, the next planet out, but there is still much work to do.”

Colleen had been standing stiffly at S’thyme’s side when the beam had coalesced. As soon as the alien let go of her hand, she walked over to stand beside Takor.

“I wish we could be here to see you do that,” Capt Burke stated.

“I don’t recommend staying,” Kolla told her. “It could take us years to get ready for the first test. But now that we have a common radio frequency to communicate with each other, we will issue an invitation when it gets much closer.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Burke enthused. “I’ll be waiting. But in the meantime, don’t become strangers. In our culture, friends often send letters to each other. These are short communications where the sender tells the recipient what has been happening in his or her life since their last letter. And the recipient can reply with their own news.”

S’thyme seemed surprised. “This communication frequency is not intended for only formal communications? Between our government and yours?”

“Not specifically. One chan-uh, frequency is typically sufficient for several years of formal and informal communications. After a few years, as our member planets become familiar with your products, it’s likely more frequencies will be needed.”

Smitty let their conversation continue without listening to it. After that first strange conversation in sick bay, he hadn’t had much chance to follow up and have another with Colleen. Bugalu had taken to spending all his off time in sick bay with her, and Smitty hadn’t felt like intruding. What exactly is their relationship? He’s been spending almost all of the last week with her, but before that, he hadn’t made any changes in his... dating habits. His undivided attention seems to be what she needed, since MacGregor released her for duty tomorrow. Actually, today, since she had that celebration down on the planet, and it’s past midnight.

He glanced at Colleen where she stood next to Takor, took another look. She’s standing closer to Takor than I’ve seen a woman do. Most men won’t stand that close to it. It’s as big as Tall Bear and probably stronger.

Takor muttered something and Colleen’s green eyes glanced up at its face as a tiny smile found her lips. She muttered something in return, and Takor’s head crest riffled in amusement as Colleen’s smile widened a nano-inch. The captain’s conversation with the Yukoskians reached a pause, and Smitty heard Takor say, ”You spoke it very badly.”

“I haven’t had any time to practice,” Colleen stated, her smile gone. “I’m lucky I remember any words at all.”

“What are you 2 talking about?” Capt Burke asked. “Did I get something on my uniform?”

“Lt MacDowell told me a joke,” Takor answered. “The words were badly spoken, so I barely understood.”

“Oh. Maybe you should give the entire communications crew lessons in the next few weeks.”

Colleen turned an absolutely bland face towards the captain. “Captain. I know we’re behind schedule, but I didn’t think it would take that long to reach Ulseess.”

“No, it won’t, but-“ She stopped, and her face went rigid. “Mr Smythe didn’t tell you?”

Uh oh. Everybody on the bridge is listening, trying not to look like they are. On this trip, Ulseess is where we would leave anyone who did not pass probation, and Colleen expects to be one of those. Because I never made the time to... Smitty hastily stood. “Captain, I haven’t had a chance to tell her. Yet.”

Jane stared at him. “I see,” she finally said, and her tone said Smitty wasn’t going to wriggle out of this one. She gave the 4 people who had arrived with her a fragile smile. “Why don’t we go into my office for a moment? I believe we have things to discuss.” As she herded them all toward her office, her eyes bore into her chief engineer. “You too, Mr Smythe.”

“Yes, captain.”

S’thyme’s translator whispered, “I’m glad she’s not talking to me,” only to be shushed by Kolla’s translator.

Make it Official

Month 6, Day 13

Dr Drake McGregor

1242 hours

It took several attempts for Drake to get Smitty shaken awake. The engineer’s eyes half opened, but didn’t look focused. “Wha--?” He didn’t sound alert, either.

“How’s your head?” Drake asked.

Smitty took forever to get his thoughts pulled together. “Better. I guess. Still hurts.” He started to roll over, his eyes closing.

Drake already knew that from the medical readout on the wall. “Yeah, you’re not quite done. But you need to get out of here.” He grabbed the engineer’s upper arm to pull him off the bed. “Go. Do your sleeping in your quarters.”

“Why?” Smitty asked, and staggered to keep on his feet. “What’s going on?”

“Ambassadors from Yukosk have arrived, and it turns out they’re not nearly as friendly as the rank and file Yukoskians.”

“Who?” Smitty leaned against the bed, obviously still not sure of his footing.

“Kolla and S’thyme. The doctors and engineers.” Seeing confusion on Smitty’s face, he again grabbed the man’s arm in frustration, to take him to his quarters himself. “Those are the friendly ones. But now the ambassadors - the big-wigs - have arrived, dressed in all the regalia a person can imagine and then some.”

As they headed for the exit, Mac groaned and tossed her head to one side. Smitty stopped short to look at her. “She’s waking up.”

“Not my idea, but they refuse to talk to anyone else.”

Smitty frowned. “They were trying to keep her asleep earlier, weren’t they?”

I know he’s still kind of out of it, but I have no idea what is going through his mind. “Who?”

“What’s her face. Koleen. And the guy, uh… showed up looking for her. For Koleen.”

“Oh, you mean Kolla and S’thyme. Yes, they want her to sleep, to get well. But the others insist on talking to her.”

“The doctors? Or the engineers?”

Man, he is mixed up. “The ambassadors. They refuse to talk to anybody but the original contact Kolla had. And they’re going to be here any min—“

With a drawn-out yelp, Colleen abruptly sat up straight, leaned to one side with her eyes mostly closed, then fell off her bed, but somehow landed on her feet with her knees buckled and her hands clutching at the next bed – the same bed Drake had just pulled Smitty from. She looked around, eyes blinking, as if she couldn’t figure out where she was. Both men started forward to help her, while she straightened her legs and started to climb onto the empty bed she held.

Drake grabbed her shoulders to pull her upright, while Smitty picked up her legs to put them on the bed. “Hey!” she complained, and started twisting around until she could see Drake’s face. “Oh, ‘s you. Lemme sleep, Doc, I feel like—“

Somebody cleared their throat, and they all turned to see who had come in. Just inside the door stood 5 Yukoskians; Kolla and S’thyme with 3 others with white faces. Nothing else could be seen of the 3 ambassadors, as their entire body was covered in robes, hats, shawls, sashes, various pieces of garish jewelry… There were so many colors involved, Drake could hardly tell where one ambassador ended and the next began. Next to them, Jane looked downright plain, even in her dress uniform.

Mac twisted away from the sight so forcefully, Smitty lost his grip on her legs, and suddenly supporting her entire weight was more than Drake was ready for. He landed on the floor, and all the air was forced from his lungs when the young lady landed atop him. She rolled off, and he gratefully pulled air in.

“That made my eyes hurt more than my head does,” Mac muttered, and found her way to her knees. “Sorry, Doc, I know I’m heavy. You okay?”

Drake pulled in another deep breath. “I’ll live,” came out hoarsely. He watched her climb to her feet, then accepted her offered hand. She pulled him up so forcefully, he lost touch of the floor for a second. But once he was on his feet, he could see her eyes were barely open, and her shoulders and back were hunched, as if she were ready to succumb to gravity and fall to the floor. Again.

“Straighten up,” Smitty whispered. “Make as good an impression as you can.”

Her eyes glazed over at the sound of his voice. Before she pulled herself together – again – Kolla skipped forward and pulled her into a big hug. Mac’s eyes grew big in surprise, then sought Drake’s attention. Her lips moved soundlessly, but it was plain she was asking, “Who is this?”

“Kolla,” Drake answered calmly.

Mac’s expression changed to joy, and she returned the hug enthusiastically, but carefully. “I’m glad our crazy scheme worked, Kolla.”

“I wish I could speak to you privately,” the translator whispered.

“Do you remember any Gaelunder?” Mac asked.

“Oh, yes,” Kolla assured her.

Mac broke away and reached up to adjust the translator. “I don’t think anybody else here speaks Gaelunder,” she stated. The ladies said more, but Mac had switched languages, and the translator also. Drake didn’t understand any of it.

Smitty, Drake realized, was frowning at the women in disapproval. What’s his problem? They’ve been through a mess together, so if they want a private conversation, let them. Looking up, he realized the others were approaching. As they crossed the room, Jane raised her eyebrows to silently ask a question. Drake gave a small shrug; he didn’t know what the women were talking about.

Wake Up

Month 6, Day 13

Lt Cmdr B Smythe

0839 hours

Smitty woke slowly, confused by a silence that included distant noise. His eyelids fluttered, his head pounded. How much did I drink? “Lights, 50%,” he whispered. Beyond his eyelids, the world brightened, making his eyes water. “Never mind,” he croaked, and dimness returned. What time is it? My alarm didn’t go off, so it’s before that. Or… is this my day off? Must be, with this hangover. Been a while since I’ve felt this bad. Should have gone to sick bay, got detoxed.

A nearby moan caught his attention. I didn’t bring a crew member to my room! Did I?

Another sound, definitely female. He had to send her away, no matter how bad he felt. He forced his eyes open, stared straight up at a bulge on the wall that didn’t belong in his bedroom. Or in anybody’s bedroom. Sick bay? Why didn’t they detox me?

“No. No. No!” She sounded scared leading to panic.

Smitty rolled his head, tried to focus on the next bed. He recognized the smear of red hair. A man stood over her, who she tried to fight off. “What are you doing?” he demanded, except it barely sounded like a hoarse whisper, even to his ears.

The man glanced around, and Smitty stared at a familiar face, except for the beard. Colleen tried to get up, get away from him, and the man turned back, grabbed her shoulders. A mechanical voice said, “Somebody help me.”

“Let go of my woman!” Smitty managed to throw one foot over the side of his bed and struggled to rise.

“Smitty, stay in bed,” Jane snapped as she hurried in. She and a pink-haired woman veered toward Colleen. “Why can’t she stay asleep?” Jane asked.

“She is asleep,” the mechanical voice stated.

“Not any more.” Colleen stopped struggling. Her trembling hand pushed red strands of hair away from her sweat-damp face. “Sorry, captain.”

“When she sleeps, terror grows inside her,” the mechanical voice stated.

“Terror?” Jane asked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know. I never remember.” Colleen sighed. Jane turned to the pink-haired woman.

“I felt the terror,” the mechanical voice stated. “But I was asleep, too, and our minds were not that much in tune.” Smitty had seen the pink-haired woman’s lips move, and realized the mechanical voice came from the small translator attached to her shoulder.

“I suppose not, or you wouldn’t have had to teach each other so much.” Jane crossed her arms and studied the ceiling for a moment. “Well, lieutenant--" She stopped as her gaze landed on the redhead’s face. “She’s asleep again,” she whispered, and signaled the others to leave while she straightened Colleen’s blanket. Then she turned, raised Smitty’s foot onto the bed. “Smitty,” she whispered.

“Captain?” His mouth was a dustbowl.

“Let go of your woman?”

“Wha-?”

“Go easy on him, Jane.” Drake was on the bed behind him. “He’s hardly in his right mind. I’m amazed he’s awake, let alone acting the hero.”

“I suppose,” Jane agreed reluctantly. “How are you, Duck?”

“Surprisingly well for one who should be in this bed another week.” He sat up. “So unfair. I hung in there so long, and now I don’t even get to lay around a few days.”

Jane smirked. “Davis said doctors make the worst patients. She was so happy when the native doctors said they had a medicine for Verasis Flu.”

“How could they?” Drake got to his feet. “Our biology can’t be that similar.”

“Don’t ask me. Six of them arrived in containment suits and spent hours studying our biology. Called for the medicine, treated everybody who was still sick. Most the crew has been released, and the emergency sick bay is dismantled.”

“That’s intriguing. Think I’ll find one of them and pick their brain.” He headed for the doorway.

“Don’t be startled by their lead physician,” Jane suggested.

“What do you mean?”

“She bears a striking resemblance to Beth.”

Drake glanced at Colleen and digested the captain’s statement for a moment. “Did she bring me along?”

Jane shook her head. “Haven’t seen him. There’s only a dozen on the ship, all told.”

“I can’t imagine how Earth scientists will accept these natives, especially if they come face-to-face with themselves,” Drake stated, and turned toward the door as a sigh escaped Colleen’s lips.

“She’s asleep now, but that doesn’t last,” Jane muttered. “Why is that?”

“I’ve been watching her,” Drake stated. “Maybe she’s too exhausted? She’s been studying so hard, and then played host to a native… That is what happened, right?”

Their conversation didn’t make sense to Smitty, until he remembered Colleen, surrounded by a mass of wires and pieces of equipment, split into two people. The 2nd woman had pink hair and—

Wires and equipment— “Oh, no.” He struggled to get up.

Drake glanced at the display above the engineer. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep!” Smitty protested. “Repairs are needed! Communications and engineering consoles on the bridge. Both bridges!”

“Repairs are nearly done, Smitty,” Jane said. “Abdulla and Wilson have things well in hand.”

“They’re good,” Smitty conceded. “But I’d rather—”

“Forget it,” Jane returned. “You haven’t been released. You’ve always had glowing reports about these women, so trust them. For once.”

“But working all alone—”

“Not alone,” Jane stated. “Kolla and S’thym pitched in. Besides doctors, other engineers came. Worked in containment suits, at first, until the docs said they weren’t needed.”

Smitty was horrified. “They don’t know the Fireball! Their technology can’t be compatible!”

“Maybe. But one said- can’t remember which; the translator only has 1 voice. One said, ‘Electricity is electricity, it just depends what loops you want it to make’.”

Smitty grunted. Sounds familiar, somehow. “I want our kind of loops!”

“Abdulla and Wilson are in charge. Now, go back to sleep so the medicine can finish its job. You’ll have time to check things out before we go.”

Smitty opened his mouth, but he didn’t have the energy to get to either bridge, let alone do anything when he got there. “Then give me something for this terrible headache, Drake,” he groused, adjusting his blanket.

Jane answered. “He can’t. Analgesics interfere with the medicine. A few more hours of sleep, and the headache will be gone.”

“I thought Davis was being mean, when she wouldn’t give me anything,” Drake joked. “Just let yourself fall asleep, Smitty. Won’t take long.” Drake turned to the captain. “Any idea where I might find the native doctors?”

“Try the messhall,” Jane answered as they left. “Seems they can’t get enough of our peanut butter…”

Smitty watched the redhead sleep. I couldn’t have called her my woman. Jane must have mis-heard. My crew woman, maybe. Irritated, he turned away. Fatigue washed through him, and his eyes closed.

Finally (Part 2)

Month 6, Day 11

Capt Jane Burke

0756 hours

Burke twisted her seat around to see a section of air darken and begin to shimmer. “Takor,” she called quietly. The Scissan turned its head and grabbed an analyzer from under the console to study the anomaly, which slowly coalesced and solidified, becoming... Humanoid, from the looks of his back. Dark pink coveralls, brown hair… The visitor had materialized facing Takor, and backed up quickly. Jane stood, and when her seat stopped the visitor, she stepped in front of him. “Hello. I’m Captain Jane Burke of the SpaceShip Fireball.”

The bearded visitor pulled his gaze off Takor, startled by Jane’s nearness.

“Sethym!” the old translator called, then reported, “Unknown language.”

The visitor whirled, grinned in relief at the redhead. He started forward, his mouth moving silently.

The redhead held out one hand in what must be a universal sign for ‘stop’ and backed away. Somehow, Smitty stumbled out of his chair to place himself before the visitor. The two men glared at each other.

Jane moved to a better vantage point. Space, who would have thought? Two Smittys, one bearded and faded, the other - my Smitty - pale with big yellow spots. Even more important, this native recognized MacDowell right away, which must mean-

The native man and MacDowell talked to each other, although no one on the bridge heard a word they said. But the ancient translator babbed as it apparently repeated every word, still unable to translate. The newcomer’s expression, as he talked over Smitty’s shoulder, went from relief to confusion to mild impatience. Still talking, MacDowell started working again, faster than she had been before.

Where’s the translator? I still hear it... oh, she put it on the floor. Out of reach, unfortunately, or I’d turn the volume up.

Abdulla looked unhappy. “It’ll take hours for that translator to make any progress, if they only speak their own language.”

“It partially translated when she first adjusted it,” Jane pointed out.

“It translated the Gaelic portion,” Abdulla corrected. “Mac’s native tongue, which it already knows.”

MacDowell glanced at the translator, then the machine alternated between English and the unknown language. “I am Colleen. ... My visitor is Kolla. ... She arrived here by accident. ... She wants to go-” At this point, the translator reverted to the unknown language as the male asked the redhead a question and she answered. Still working on her contraption, her attention turned again to teaching the machine. “I. ... You. ... He. ... She. ... We. ... You. ... They...”

“She’s conjugating pronoun subjects of sentences,” Abdulla whispered. “Giving the machine some basic vocabulary. That will cut down the time it needs immensely.”

“Smart girl,” Jane stated.

“Wish I could convince Mr Smythe of that.”

The redhead - MacDowell, or whoever she was - gave Abdulla a startled look, then stared at Smitty – the real one - with indignation. With a sad shake of her head, she returned to her work, speaking to her ‘rescuer’ at some length. They conversed for some time, the translator repeating the unknown language except for ‘he’ and ‘she’. There seemed to be quite a few ‘he’s and ‘she’s, with an occasional ‘you’ and ‘we’ thrown in for good measure.

Now the male glared at Smitty in angry disgust. But it’s lost on my Smitty. He looks completely unaware of anything. So much so, the only reason he’s still upright is because he doesn’t realize he is.

The lessons for the translator continued. “Blerp. The verb ‘to be’. I blarp; you blirp; he she blorp; we blirp; you blirp; they blirp. Vilt, the verb ‘to live’. I vilt; you vilt; he she viltz; we vilt; you vilt; they vilt. Whib. The verb ‘to walk’. Turm. The verb ‘to run’. Spah. Sphere. Crilc. Circle. Sarq. Square. Ceub. Cube. Triag. Triangle. Tren. A planet-” She stopped, both talking and working, her forehead grooved. “A planet? No. Not…” Her face lit up as she beamed at the newcomer. “Our planet! I mean, this planet!”

She’s smiling, she’s excited, but she’s so worn out, she looks like a grinning cadaver. “Translator, change my words to Gaelunder,” Jane ordered. “Colleen, Kolla, stop trying to teach us the local language. We can learn the old fashioned way. Finish your work, and each of you claim your own body. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

The redhead gave a short jerky nod and soon put her tool on the floor. Climbing laboriously to her feet, she pulled two loose wires closer to her, each hand holding one a couple inches from the end. Taking a deep breath, she muttered, “I hope this works.”

Surprisingly, Smitty whirled, his blood-shot eyes taking in her position in a single glance. “What are you doing?” She moved the wire ends closer to each other. “No! You can’t-” He lunged toward her, but the native male held him back.

As the 2 men tussled, the woman slapped the wires between her tightly clasped hands. The bridge lights faded, headed for darkness. The redhead’s body fluctuated between a black-and-white version and a blindingly colorful version, the changes coming faster and faster until the two versions seemed to be standing next to each other in the wildly changing available light.

The bridge went totally dark for half a second. Emergency lighting came on as the two women crumpled, each falling away from the other. The Smittys stopped fighting and surged forward, each catching a woman before she hit the floor.

Smitty tore away wires and smoothed the hair of the unconscious woman he held. At least, he tried to, but her curly hair crackled, threw off sparks and each individual hair moved at the whim of whatever eddy of air caught it.

The bearded Smitty seemed less worried about the woman he held, who was semi-conscious. Is she in better condition than the other?

Someone uttered words, which the old machine translated into English swear words. I heard the original as well as the machine, so…

The semi-conscious woman groaned. “Detox!”

Dr Davis jumped forward to give her an inoculation under one ear, then ran her hand-held monitor over the young lady’s form. Looking grim, Davis gave her more shots, below the other ear and inside an elbow. Ejecting that tube of chemicals, she reached into her bag for a replacement. She checked her monitor again and sat back on her heels with a deep sigh. “I can’t give you any more, MacDowell.”

“I’ve reached that feeling-sick stage,” MacDowell complained.

“You are sick,” Davis told her. “Detox breaks down alcohol into food for the Verasis virus, and you gave it a feast. Your spots are so big, your entire face is yellow.” The doctor put her equipment away and turned to Jane. “I need them both in sick bay, captain.”

“Of course,” Jane agreed.

“And the natives have been exposed.”

“Yes.” Jane had already been thinking how to keep them from leaving. Even if we manage to explain, do they have any way to communicate with their people, so we don’t have others coming to look for them?

“Sethym,” MacDowell muttered, though her eyes were closed. The man turned his attention to her, and silently responded. She spoke gibberish, then, according to the translator. When she finished, he nodded and stood, lifting her in his arms.

“That one’s mine!” Smythe declared.

Jane knelt before her chief engineer. “Smitty, you’re sick. Go to sick bay.”

“I don’t-” he started to protest.

“MacDowell is sick,” Jane went on. “Very sick. Both natives have been exposed and can’t leave.” I hope that’s what MacDowell said to the man. “I order you to sick bay. Show this native how to get there. He’ll carry MacDowell. Evans will carry the woman.”

Instead, the yeoman picked up the native woman and started for the lift. Dr Davis and the native man – who carried MacDowell – followed.

Jane helped Smitty to his feet and nodded to Abdulla. With the ancient translator in one hand, Abdulla put her other hand under Smitty’s arm and walked him out.

With a sigh of relief, Jane returned to her chair. At least they’re separated now. MacDowell’s sick but whole. The other – Kola? – has been unconscious since they separated. That’s worrisome. “Evans, adjust our orbit. Give us as much time as possible before we come around and approach that moon base again. But not so far out that it looks like we’ve disappeared.”

“Yes, captain.”