Aliena Too

  And the alien motes were everywhere, including the ancient temples, pyramids, and palaces. They were down in the mines and on the metal ships. They had been present for thousands of years. So the proctors had been watching since long before mankind achieved space. The question remained: were the motes still “live”? Or had they or their makers long since died? She needed to know.

  In due course Aliena emerged from her supposed stasis and checked with Explora. There had been no problems. The starfish had not expected to achieve this level of responsibility, but was, of course, competent.

  Aliena fed the accumulated data into her equipment for a thorough statistical analysis. The verdict emerged: there was an even chance that the motes were live.

  She put a watch on them. This was a trace field that would alert her if there were ever any sign of activity relating to the motes.

  Then something odd happened: the motes pulsed. All of them, everywhere, together. It was only a microsecond, and would have been easy to miss had the field not been watching.

  The verdict changed. Now the chance was 99%.

  Stunned, Aliena sat on the information for a day, trying to decide what, if anything, to do. Should she announce it to the world? Or just to the select few who knew of this project? Or to no one? What could anyone do, regardless?

  Twenty-four hours later they pulsed again.

  Aliena went to Quincy. “The motes are pulsing.” She explained about the analysis and the machine’s verdict. “It seems that my analysis of their likelihood of being still live triggered the proof of it. They are signaling us that they are active.”

  “Or reporting to the proctors,” he agreed. “They are no longer secret.”

  “Yes. That puts us on notice that they know we know. That may be mischief.”

  “Why would they notify us that they know we know?”

  That made her pause. “Maybe they don’t realize that we are watching the sensors.”

  “If I were a proctor, I would make sure to know.”

  There was that empathy again. “But why?” she repeated.

  “That’s something I will have to think about.”

  “Do so.” She left him.

  Twenty-three hours after the second pulse, there was a third pulse.

  “Are you sure of the timing?” Quincy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “We could guess that the timing is not exact, but that seems unlikely. It was exactly a day. Now it’s slightly less. There must be a reason.”

  “We need to fathom that reason,” she said.

  “We do. I am beginning to wonder if they are playing cat and mouse with us. Toying with us to see how we react.”

  “Why should they care how we react, after thousands of years?”

  “That is another thing I will have to ponder.”

  “Do so.”

  Twenty-two hours after the third pulse there came the fourth. The pulses were definitely quickening.

  Explora joined the dialogue. “Quincy and I have discussed it, privately. We think we are up against an automatic program designed to react in a certain manner to particular outside stimuli. Detection of the motes caused the pulses to commence. They decrease one hour each time, so that in about twenty-five Earth days from the start they will end. This puts us on notice to plan our response before that time expires. What we don’t know is what our response should be, and what the consequence of error is.”

  “What do you conjecture?” Aliena asked grimly.

  “There are several options. One is nothing; that this is a protocol of machines that does not relate to us, other than our accidental triggering of it. Another is that a wrong response could lead to our destruction. A third is that it will set off a new series of reactions.”

  “Such as?” Aliena asked.

  “Such as waking the proctors, who we assume are presently in stasis while their sensors and machines watch. We might or might not welcome the animation of the proctors.”

  “What do you think?” Aliena asked Quincy.

  “If I were a proctor assigned to watch a backward planet, I would do what we have seen done here: set up sensors to monitor progress, and go into stasis, with certain events setting off alerts. If the primitives achieve enough sophistication to set off the sensors, I would have a second process be set in motion: the timed pulses. If they produce a result that meets my criteria for active verification, the machines would wake me so that I could attend to it directly.”

  “And how would such attendance impact us?” Aliena asked.

  “That depends on whether we are considered sapients or vermin. As a proctor I believe I would be more interested in sapients. This could be good.”

  Aliena considered. Quincy’s scenario seemed apt. “If they were prepared to wait thousands of years for the possibility of sapience, stasis does seem appropriate.”

  “We gambled a century on finding sapience here,” Explora said. “We used stasis for the interim.”

  “Mankind has been sapient for maybe a quarter million years,” Quincy said. “But only very recently has it become highly technological. It may be the technology they are waiting for. The ability to detect them.”

  “As we now have done,” Aliena agreed. “That does seem likely.”

  “And it surely is not hostile,” Quincy said. “They could have obliterated us at any point before we achieved stellar technology, and the same goes for the starfish. So it seems more likely that just as the starfish sought sapient company, so do the proctors.”

  “Then why the timed pulses? What not simply contact us, as we contacted you?”

  “There is something we are missing,” he agreed.

  “I believe we had better figure it out before the pulses hit zero.” Aliena considered a moment. “I do not trust any individual judgment on this, but neither do I want to announce it publicly. How should we proceed?”

  Quincy laughed. “Form a committee.”

  “What is humorous?”

  “Committees are notorious for not accomplishing anything. We can’t afford that. So it was a joke.”

  “I do not understand this,” Explora said.

  Aliena pieced it out. “A joke can be the juxtaposition of unlikely perspectives that humans enjoy. We have something serious to do, and a committee would not do it. So his suggestion was not serious.”

  Explora continued puzzled. “But then what is the alternative? Either you handle it, Aliena, or you seek the aid of others. Isn’t that a committee?”

  “Actually a committee can solve a problem,” Quincy said. “It just has to be properly motivated, and consist of people who are serious about the matter.”

  “What people?” Aliena asked.

  “Well, both humans and starfish have an interest in properly handling the challenge represented by the proctors. Maybe a committee of three of each.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m thinking of those already most involved. Star, Gloaming, and you, Aliena. And those most closely associated: Brom, Lida, and me. If we, pooling our resources, can’t figure it out, maybe nobody could. In which case we’ll just have to wait on the deadline and see what happens.”

  “I think my perspective is compromised by my mixed experience and feeling,” Aliena said. “Perhaps Explora can substitute for me.”

  “I have no human body experience,” Explora said.

  “Therefore you are a full starfish, to counter those with human experience. Similarly Brom and Lida are full humans who have never been starfish. The remaining three have both types of experience. That seems to be a good sampling.”

  “It does,” Explora agreed.

  “You can assign the committee, and call it to account,” Quincy said.

  “I will do that.” Aliena left them.

  First she contacted Lida via the glasses. “A matter has occurred. I need you and five others to come to the space station for what may be an extended dialogue. Among the others are Gloaming, Star, and Brom. Please notify them, but do not publiciz
e this.”

  “Aliena, I know you would not ask such a thing lightly,” Lida responded. “But this is not convenient. Star and I recently birthed babies and can’t leave them at this time. There is also Maple.”

  “Bring them along, and the bodyguards. There are facilities here.”

  “We will have to make a pretext, as we are public figures and have schedules. Appearances will have to be canceled.”

  “Make the pretext.”

  “Can you give us a hint what this is about?”

  “No.”

  Lida was silent a moment. When she spoke again she sounded resigned. “I will spread the word. But Aliena, if you want to keep this private, is it wise to bring us all to the station? The media will be all over us.”

  Aliena had not thought of that. “You have a point. Do you have a suggestion?”

  “Yes. Issue communication devices similar to my glasses to the others, tuned to the six of us. Then we can be in touch with you and each other without disrupting our schedules. We can hold meetings on the fly without physically assembling. These days folk do not have to meet personally to be in close touch.”

  That made sense. Aliena had hoped to avoid alerting the proctor sensors, by having a physical meeting without outside observation, but realized that this was impractical. And that the sensors would be aware of the gathering anyway. Their group could not assume they had any privacy from the proctors. “I will do this.”

  She did it. Soon any and all of them could tune in on any and all of the others without attracting outside attention. Lida and Star associated constantly anyway, which meant that Brom and Gloaming did too, so it was easy to hold the first discussion as they gathered in the evening at the bunker. Star and Lida were holding their babies, nursing them as required, while Maple watched a children’s show on holo.

  “The remaining two members of the party are Quincy and Explora,” Aliena said. “Explora is a female starfish associate training to run the ship if necessary.” She did not clarify Explora’s closeness to Quincy; Lida surely would not be easy with that. “Here is the concern: we have detected ancient alien artifacts that resemble tiny grains of sand embedded in our structures that seem to be able to tune in on and report on any activities on Earth, the starfish home planet, and the spaceship. We thought they might be inert, but recently they have started pulsing in unison. We believe this is because a field activates them for a microsecond, perhaps reading what they have absorbed. The pulses started 24 hours apart, but now are 21 and seem to be likely to continue diminishing until there is no separation. We conjecture that at that point the makers of the sensors, whom we have turned the proctors, may awaken from stasis and take charge. It is the purpose of this ad hoc committee to determine the unified response of humans and starfish to the active presence of the proctors. We assume that they are not hostile, since they could have taken action against us long ago had they been minded to do so. But our response to them could have significant impact on their treatment of us. They may already be aware of us and this meeting. I will leave our response to you to work out, without participating in the decision myself, hoping in this manner to improve the objectivity of it.”

  There was a pause. Then Lida spoke. “Hello, Explora. You are the one we don’t know. Tell us about yourself.”

  “I am a representative of a brood fertilized on the home planet and kept in stasis until recently,” Explora said. “I was educated first on my home planet, then on the ship after awakening here, as I grew from infancy to adult status. I was selected to perform tasks as necessary and to divert Quincy and keep him company.”

  Oops. Aliena had not anticipated this particular dialogue, but could not interfere with it now.

  “Divert him?” Lida asked. “How?”

  “We perform what, in your species, would translate to contraceptive sex: copulation without fertility, for the pleasure of it. I am unusual in my species for my urge to do that.”

  “You are his starfish mistress?”

  “That is the nearest analogy,” Explora agreed.

  “Thank you for clarifying that,” Lida said tightly.

  “I am glad to have answered your question.” Explora, with no human body experience, was missing nuances.

  Gloaming turned to Lida. “Do you have a problem with that? I wish to understand, because I love you and want you to be happy.”

  Lida seemed to be somewhat flustered. “Maybe I do. I was just getting used to the notion of my husband having a fling with Brom’s wife, however obscurely or legitimately. Now suddenly there’s another lover.”

  “Does the number of lovers matter?”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “Not to starfish. Only fertile breeding matters; entertainment does not.”

  “Well, I guess it matters to me.”

  “Do you wish me to abstain?” Explora asked. “I do not wish to be disruptive.”

  “Quincy, do you want her to abstain?” Lida asked.

  “If you prefer.”

  “I asked what you wanted!”

  “Dear, if I could have you, I would. But I can’t. I’d like to have Aliena, but she’s not much into sex.”

  “She’s not?” Brom asked. “I thought she was.”

  “She was when with you,” Quincy said. “But I’m not you.”

  They were all well aware that Aliena was listening. This dialogue was really for her benefit.

  “Was she?” Brom said. “Or was I fooling myself? What about you, Star?”

  “I love you, Brom,” Star said. “Therefore I like sex with you. It is true that your interest in it is greater than mine, but I am glad to accommodate you because I like giving you joy. It was the same with Aliena. But I am not seeking sex with Quincy or his human body.”

  “That explains Aliena’s reticence,” Brom said.

  “Yes,” Star agreed. “She loves you, not Quincy. So she does not seek sex with Quincy. But she does want to keep him satisfied, so she enlisted Explora to enhance that aspect. It is a practical measure. If that disturbs you, Lida, Explora will stop.”

  “I will,” Explora agreed. “I did not realize there could be an issue. I am not as yet properly conversant with human protocols.”

  The others looked at Lida.

  “Oh, damn it, I do want Quincy to be happy, with me or without me,” Lida said. “There’s really no issue. I’m just having trouble getting past my own foolish possessiveness. Don’t quit, Explora.”

  “Thank you,” Explora said.

  “But isn’t Aliena just sloughing Quincy off, then?” Lida asked, still not quite satisfied. “I don’t want him treated like a burden.”

  “Not necessarily,” Star said. “She does have a ship to run, a mission to oversee, and there may be a present crisis. Distractions could be dangerous. She might like to let herself go, but can’t afford it at present.”

  “And you, Brom,” Lida said. “You love Aliena; she was your wife. Do you want her to be doing that with my husband?”

  “I do love her,” Brom said. “I want her to be happy. She can’t be that with me. So yes, I want her to be happy with Quincy; he’s the only other person who fully understands what it is like to change from human to starfish. They are well matched in that respect.”

  “So it really is up to Aliena,” Lida said.

  “It really is,” Star agreed.

  “When she is ready,” Brom said.

  “And I will fill in in the interim,” Explora said. “In whatever capacity required.”

  They all wanted Aliena to make it up with Quincy. And she did want to. She just couldn’t quite do it. Not yet. She had to let Explora fill in, as she put it, being as tolerant as Lida had decided to be.

  “Now we have other business,” Gloaming said. “There are alien artifacts among us, thousands of years old, that now are pulsing. There may be a deadline for our decision. What action should we take?”

  “It seems it is not possible to evade or destroy them,” Brom said. “So are we helpless?”
>
  “In which case there is no point in trying to do anything,” Lida said.

  Now Quincy spoke. “I have been pondering this matter, trying to relate to what the proctors have in mind. It seems to be that they may want what the starfish wanted when they contacted us: compatible company. We should offer them that.”

  “How?” Star asked.

  “By agreeing that this is what we want: amicable relations. By expressing our willingness to do whatever is required to make them feel comfortable with us. Certainly we can’t directly oppose them; they will have technology vastly beyond anything we can muster. We should be able to profit enormously by it, if they share it. This could usher in a golden age of prosperity and fulfillment for us.”

  “How will they know this?” Star asked.

  “We can designate an emissary to meet them, if they should manifest, and acquaint them with our positive attitude.”

  “This seems almost too simple,” Gloaming said.

  “Compared to them, we are bound to seem simple,” Quincy said. “Why pretend to be otherwise?”

  “And what of the countdown?” Brom asked.

  “We wait for it to finish,” Quincy said. “It’s their move.”

  “Do we make a public announcement?” Lida asked.

  “I think not,” Gloaming said. “The people are as yet uninformed. It may be better to come to an understanding with the proctors, assuming they do manifest, and then present it to the populace, as was done when we starfish arrived.”

  “Then we should appoint the emissary,” Gloaming said.

  “Who else?” Star asked. “Aliena.”

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  They had decided. “I will do my best,” Aliena said.

  The countdown continued. Aliena talked with Quincy. “The others think we should be together, and that does make sense. I simply am unable to commit to anything that emotional at present.”

  “I understand. But for the record: I am ready whenever you are.”

  “Thank you.” She felt inadequate, another thing she disliked.

  Meanwhile Explora was happy to accommodate him. How long before he came to prefer her to Aliena? That also bothered her, yet she could not interfere with it. She simply seemed incompetent to deal with her own confused emotions. That, it seemed, was what came of going to a human host, learning to feel, then returning to starfish host, where such feeling was largely foreign.