Christopher Nuttall - A Learning Experience

Steve gasped as he materialised under the trees, some distance from the ranch house. The whole sensation of being teleported felt eerie, although not as bad as he’d feared. It felt as if every atom in his body had been tickled as the world dissolved into silver light, then reformed around him. As he’d expected, no one was close enough to see his arrival. The apple trees that surrounded the family cemetery hid him from outside view.

He caught his breath, suddenly very aware of his heartbeat pounding inside his chest. The experience was profoundly alien , raising all sorts of questions in his mind. Had the real Steve died when he entered the teleporter, only to be replaced by a completely identical copy that thought it was the original? Or was the teleporter sophisticated enough to duplicate a soul as well as a physical body? Somehow, he was sure that scientists and theologians would be debating the issue for centuries to come. But did it really matter?

Shaking his head, he looked down at himself. Everything seemed to be where it belonged, so he reached up and touched the silver band around his head. He’d worried about walking outside the network interface’s range, but the interface had told him that he would have to be several light-seconds away from the starship before it started to have problems maintaining the connection. Even then, it could send data packets back and forth, even if it couldn’t maintain a teleport lock. Bracing himself, he walked forward until he pushed through the apple trees and headed down towards the house.

“Hey, Uncle Steve,” two of Mongo’s children called. “You’re back early!”

Steve smirked. They didn’t know the half of it.

“I’m back, yes,” he said, instead. “Where’s my partner?”

They pointed towards the ranch house. Steve nodded to the two boys and strode past them, up to the door. Up close, it was clear that certain members of the family were more than a little paranoid; the door was painted to look like wood, but it was actually solid metal. But then, it would be hours, at best, before the law enforcement forces got out to the ranch if the owners called for help. Taking care of themselves was practically bred into them. Tapping the door, he opened it and stepped inside. Mariko looked out from the kitchen, surprise written all over her face. She hadn’t expected to see him for several days.

“Hi, honey,” Steve said. “I’m home.”

Mariko flowed forward and wrapped him in a hug. She’d surprised Steve when they’d first met — the city girl who’d become a doctor and then a vet, purely because she wanted to get out of the city — and continued to surprise him, every few days. They might not have married — Steve had his suspicions about modern marriage — but he considered her his wife in every way that mattered. And they’d had four children together.

“So,” she said, after a brief kissing session. “What’s that?”

Steve smiled as she pointed to the headband. “It’s a long story, honey,” he said. “You’d better be sitting down.”

Mariko lifted her eyebrows, but did as she was told. She was a slight girl, in many ways, her Japanese features seeming out of place in the ranch house. And yet there was a strength around her that continued to impress him, even after twelve years of partnership. She might not have been born into the ranch culture, but she belonged there now.

“You see, we were abducted from the campsite,” Steve began. “By aliens.”

Mariko listened, her face clearly doubtful, as Steve ran through the entire story, from the alien craft to the moment they’d decided to set up a new nation for themselves. Steve wasn’t in the habit of lying to anyone, certainly not his partner, but the entire story was more than a little unbelievable. And then she leaned forward and took a closer look at the silver headband.

“It’s grown into your flesh,” she said, sharply. Her fingers poked and prodded at where the headband met his skin. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Steve allowed his smile to widen. “You believe me now?”

“…Maybe,” Mariko said. She stood up. “Show me the starship.”

“Of course,” Steve said. He’d already planned where he wanted to take her first, once she was onboard the ship. He stood and took her arm. “Try to relax, honey.”

He sent the command through the interface. Moments later, the entire room dissolved into silver light, only to reform as a teleport bay. Mariko staggered against him as soon as the teleport beam let go of her, clearly badly shocked. Steve felt a moment of regret — had he moved too fast? — then shook his head, mentally. He had to show her the truth before she decided he was playing a joke on her — or that he’d gone mad.

She muttered something in Japanese as he led her out of the compartment and down the stained corridor, into the observation blister. The Hordesmen hadn’t seemed like tourists, but the ship’s original designers had been firm believers in placing windows and portholes in their starships. Steve rather understood how they felt. He’d been in submarines twice and both of them had been rather claustrophobic. The alien ship was larger than any submarine or spacecraft humanity had ever built, but the crews might well face the same problem. They needed to look out of the craft from time to time.

Mariko clutched his arm tightly as they entered the observation blister. Ahead of them, Earth glowed in the darkness of interplanetary space. Steve shook his head in awe as Mariko stepped up to the edge of the blister and pressed her fingertips against the glass — if it was glass, Steve told himself. It might as well be transparent aluminium.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes shining as she turned to face him. “It’s… fantastic!”

“It is,” Steve agreed. It was suddenly very easy to take her in his arms and kiss her. “It’s the dawn of a brave new world.”

He held her for a moment longer, then sobered. “There’s something — someone — I’d like you to take a look at,” he added. “Although I’m not sure if you will be wearing your doctor’s outfit or your vet’s coat.”

Mariko snickered, then stared up at him. “You captured an alien ?”

“Yes,” Steve said, simply. For a doctor, the chance to study a completely non-human life form had to be the Holy Grail. But they needed the alien techie alive. “Please don’t dissect him.”

“I won’t,” Mariko promised.

Steve led her through the maze of corridors, back up to the cabin where Mongo was on guard. “You can go speak to Jayne now,” he said, to his brother. “Bring her up here after you’ve told her the truth.”

He scowled. “And then we have to prepare Vincent’s body for disposal,” he added. “It can’t look even remotely damaged.”

Mariko looked up at him. “When are you going to tell his wife?”

Steve winced. “After this,” he said. “Will you come with me?”

Mariko nodded, wordlessly.

Cn!lss had never really expected to be taken prisoner. As a rule, the Horde rarely took prisoners, not when resources had been very limited on their homeworld. The only times they took prisoners were when the captive could be ransomed back to their Horde or when the captive might know something useful. In the latter case, the captive was taken somewhere safe and brutally tortured until he gave up his secrets, then executed as soon as he had surrendered everything. It wasn’t as if his fellows would want him back.

But the humans seemed to be remarkably considerate captors. They’d refused to give him a terminal or anything else he could use to work , but they had given him food, water and a certain amount of privacy. Compared to what he’d had to endure under the Subhorde Commander, it was almost paradise. Those who actually tried to understand alien technology got no respect from their fellow Hordesmen.