Robert Sawyer - Hybrids

It was a cool fall day, with cirrus clouds finger-painted on a silvery sky. Lurt and Mary walked along. Ahead was a building about the width of a football field and, judging by the deployment of windows, four stories tall. “This is our Science Academy-the one for women,” said Lurt. “Bandra Tolgak works here.”

They came to one of many doors-solid, opaque, hinged. Lurt opened it, and they continued down a corridor, square in cross section, light provided by catalytic reactions inside tubes set into the walls. Many female Neanderthals of generation 147-the right age for a university education-were milling about, and a variety of spindly robots were zipping to and fro, running errands. Lurt stopped when they came to the station for a pair of elevators. Neanderthals, very sensibly, left their elevator doors open when idle, keeping the cabs from getting stuffy and making it obvious at a glance when one was available on the current floor. Lurt led Mary into the one that was waiting. “Bandra Tolgak’s lab,” Lurt said into the air. The doors closed, and the elevator began moving upward. After a few seconds, the doors reopened, and they were looking out into another corridor. “Third door on your right,” said a synthesized voice.

Mary and Lurt walked to that door, opened it, and entered.

“Healthy day, Bandra,” said Lurt.

A Neanderthal woman’s broad back was facing them. She turned around and smiled. “Lurt Fradlo! Healthy day!” Then her eyes-an arresting wheat color-fell on Mary. “And you must be Scholar Vaughan,” she said. “Lurt said you were coming.” She smiled again and, to Mary’s astonishment, offered her hand.

Mary took it and shook it firmly. “I–I didn’t think Neanderthals shook hands.”

“Oh, we don’t,” said Bandra, grinning. “But I have been reading all about you Gliksins. Such a fascinating people!” She let go of Mary’s hand. “Did I do it properly?”

“Yes,” said Mary. “Just fine.”

Bandra was beaming. She was a 144, nine years older than Mary-actually, eight and a half, more likely, since Mary had been born in September, and most Neanderthals were born in the spring. Bandra’s facial and body hair was a lovely mixture of copper and silver. “Good, good. Oh, wait! There is another ritual!” She composed her pleasant features into a mock-serious expression. “How are you?”

Mary laughed. “I’m fine, thanks. And you?”

“I am fine, too.” Bandra burst out laughing. “Such wonderful people! So many little pleasantries!” She smiled at Mary. “It really is a treat to meet you, Scholar Vaughan.”

“You can call me Mary.”

“No, I can’t,” said Bandra, laughing again. “But I would be delighted to call you ‘Mare.’ ”

Bandra’s lab was filled with mineralogical specimens-rock crystals, polished stones, beautifully prepared geodes, and more. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet a Gliksin,” continued Bandra. “I read everything I can find about you people.”

“Um, thank you.”

“So, tell me about yourself. Do you have children?”

“Not yet,” said Mary.

“Ah. Well, I have two daughters and a grandson. Would you like to see pictures?”

“Um, sure.”

But Bandra laughed once more. “You Gliksins and your complex manners! How wonderfully accommodating you are! I understand I could force you to look for daytenths at images I have recorded while traveling.”

Mary found herself feeling very relaxed; Bandra’s good humor was infectious.

“I hope you don’t mind us stopping by,” said Lurt, “but…”

“But you were in the neighborhood!” said Bandra, grinning broadly at Mary.

Mary nodded.

“Out and about,” continued Bandra-saying it as “oot and aboot,” the exaggerated accent that Americans ascribed to Canadians but that Mary had yet to actually hear from any of her compatriots. “Such wonderful turns of phrase you Gliksins have.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” said Bandra, “Lurt said you had a favor to ask.” She gestured at the rocks spread out around the room. “I can’t imagine what help a geologist might be to you, but-and this one is one of my favorites-‘I am all ears.’ ” Bandra beamed at Mary.

“Well, um, I…um, I’m looking for a place to stay, here in Saldak Center.”

“Really?” said Bandra.

Mary smiled. “If I’m lying, I’m dying.”

Bandra roared with laughter. “I hope you’re doing neither!” She paused. “I do have a big old house, and I am all alone in it now.”

“So Lurt said. I will only be here for a month or so, but if you’d like to have a housemate…”

“I would, but…” Bandra trailed off.

Mary wanted to say, “But what?” But she had no right to pry; it was hardly incumbent on Bandra to justify turning Mary down.

Still, after a moment, Bandra went on. “Only a month, you say? So, you would be here only during the next Two becoming One?”

“Yes,” said Mary, “but I’ll stay out of your way then, of course.”

Mary could see emotions warring across Bandra’s wide face-and she certainly could understand that. The Neanderthal woman was doubtless weighing the inconvenience of having a stranger move in against her scientific fascination at getting to spend time with a being from another world.

“Very well,” said Bandra, at last. “What is your phrase? ‘Your home is my home.’ ”

“I think it’s the other way around,” said Mary.

“Ah, yes, yes! I’m still learning!”

Mary smiled. “So am I.”

“ But it has been three decades since Eugene Cernan became the last person to walk on the moon. The last person! Who would have thought that whole generations would be born after 1972 for whom the notion of humans on other worlds would be nothing but a lesson in history class…?”

Mary found Bandra’s home much more comfortable than Lurt’s, even though it wasn’t any bigger. For one thing, the furniture was more to Mary’s taste. And for another, it turned out that Bandra was both a bird-watcher and a wonderful artist: she had covered the wooden interior walls and ceilings with Audubon-quality paintings of local birds, including, of course, passenger pigeons. Mary loved birds herself: that had been why she’d been working on passenger-pigeon DNA back at York while her grad student, Daria, had had the seemingly more sexy assignment of recovering genetic material from an Egyptian mummy.

Mary found it strange to come home before Bandra did-and even stranger just to walk in the front door. But, of course, Neanderthals didn’t lock their homes; they didn’t have to.

Bandra had a household robot-many Barasts did. It was a spindly, insectlike being. It regarded Mary with blue mechanical eyes-not unlike those Lonwis had-but went puttering along, cleaning and dusting.

Although Mary knew she couldn’t see Ponter until Two next became One, there was no reason she couldn’t call him-her shiny new Companion could connect to his Companion, or any other, without difficulty.

And so Mary made herself comfortable-lying down on the couch in Bandra’s living room, staring up at the beautiful mural on the ceiling-and had Christine call up Hak.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said-which was even worse than “honey” as far as being an endearment that couldn’t be reproduced by Ponter, but all he would have heard was the translation Christine provided.

“Mare!” Ponter’s voice was full of excitement. “How good to hear from you!”

“I miss you,” Mary said. She felt like she was eighteen again, talking to her boyfriend Donny from her bedroom at her parents’ house.

“I miss you, too.”

“Where are you?”

“I am taking Pabo for a walk. We can both use the exercise.”