F. Brejcha - With Other Eyes

I was alone.

The screen in front of me took on a new poignancy as I realized that for all the pain I was feeling, and had felt, the beings in this ship had lived with a far greater horror all of their lives. What was my loneliness to theirs?

The subliminal squealing stopped and the screen stabilized with a vivid image similar to one of those on the panel in the mural. During early mechanization. Then the panel went blank. I decided that the wall outside was an abridged Traveler history text, and that we had been shown it first so we would appreciate the full class room course we were being exposed to now.

My muscles and my bladder were all screaming for relief, and I stood up to stretch, grateful for the sanitary functions of the suit. Glancing at my watch, I realized in amazement that we had been sitting motionless for almost five hours!

Next to me Lazz rose, managing to pop some joint or other with a loud crack that echoed in the small room. “Next time,” he groaned. “Remind me to bring some Relax-Tabs! Nutrient bars and water just don’t do it.” Then he reached over to reset my eye-set computer. “Now what?”

Our answer came as the same panel that had provided fresh air canisters slid open again, but this time, the compartment behind it was piled high with the supply containers from the Transport.

“Eat and sleep,” came a new order. “When you are ready for the next viewing, tell me.”

“Hey,” I heard Lazz call as he sorted through the pressure cases. “This one’s got my name on it.” He opened it and pulled out a uni-suit rolled up next to a deflated air-mattress, a small case, and two other uni-suits. “Bless her heart! She managed to sneak this on…” He looked over at me, wide-eyed. “She knew all along! There wouldn’t have been time for her to slip this along after we left her. He shook his head and then looked up. “I know you can’t hear me, sweetheart, but thanks.” He blew a kiss at the ceiling before turning back to me.

“Okay, Mitch: C’mon. You heard our hosts. It’s break time. Considering where we stopped, we’ve got a lot of history left to cover.” He grabbed his uni-suit and headed for the doorway to our ‘sanitary facilities’.

The door opened automatically as he approached it, and he peeked in suspiciously before turning to me with a flash from his teeth.

“Standard station bathroom. I’ll be out in a few minutes.

After eating some rehydrated low-residue rations and stretching out for a nap—Lazz won the toss for the minimally padded cot and I used the air mattress Liza had slipped into the container for Lazz—we were ready to go again. Since we were no longer in our suits, I warned our hosts we might have to stop the display from time to time, but then we settled down for another session in front of the screen.

For the next day, our time was split between naps, meals, and bathroom breaks, each pause bringing us closer to that final tragic frame we had seen.

Finally we found ourselves looking at a vivid frozen frame that was a virtual duplicate of the exodus picture. The roiling sun dominating the picture actually did look every bit as daunting as the sculpture. I realized that the Travelers were probably living their lives in shielded suits and homes towards the end. It made the forest outside that much more understandable: a defiant return to better times; probably using carefully nurtured plants grown in a shielded environment.

We got up to stretch, curious over what was next, but then we froze, because the screen had come to life again and a different squeal took over the narrating duties as new, speeded-up images were displayed. From to time, I caught a glimpse of a single ship along with various passing star fields and planetary bodies.

I was afraid to move until this shorter display ended, but after about ten minutes, the screen went dark and I turned to Lazz, excited.

“That last bit was the trip this ship made! We can back-track to their home system and see where else they’ve been.”

“The witnessing of history is over,” our hosts’ voices interrupted. “Put on your suits and prepare to leave this chamber.”

“That’s it?” Lazz burst out. “Come look at my etchings and then out the door?”

I reached out to take his arm. “I think we’ll find that we’ve gotten a little more than that once we take a look at the recording in real-time. Let’s not push it.” But one thing bothered me and I looked up.

“What about our history? Information about us. You have already received some from our exchanges, but—”

“The witnessing of history is over,” the disembodied chorus repeated, the mechanical tones of the computer lending an air of finality to the words.

After Lazz reset my computer, I retrieved my flushed-out suit, changed into my undersuit, reconnected all my plumbing, and then closed up. I grabbed my helmet with a sigh and forced myself back into it, wrinkling my nose as the stale canned air hissed in once again. It reminded me that we would not only be in deep shit once we got back, but also in quarantine because we had breathed air here, even if in a “sterile” room with pure gases.

Lazz seemed to read my mind as he sealed his own helmet. “Time to face the music, huh?”

“Not yet. It’s only been about twenty-eight hours and I was told it would be several days. I guess there’s more to this show and tell. But look at it this way: we’re going to be employed for some time. Just think about how long it’s going to take to sort through and analyze the recording we just got.”

“So true, so true.” Lazz seemed to take great delight in that.

The inner airlock door opened as we approached it, and we were quickly cycled through and back out in the corridor to face the two leading Travelers. I wanted to know more about why I had been brought onboard, but my every attempt to ask anything was ignored and we were efficiently herded down a new corridor to return to the doorway that opened out to the jungle. However, when we passed though it, we were greeted by a surprise.

A huge crowd of Travelers had gathered outside. They seemed to fill the open field in front of the sculpture wall, only leaving a narrow corridor towards the elevator platform. As we followed our guides past the other aliens, their massed attention was overwhelming and I felt my focus slipping.

“They must have been revived while we had our screening,” Lazz whispered. “I guess we were wrong?”

I didn’t answer right away but looked back in amazement as we eventually stepped onto the elevator again. I had lost count of the number of Travelers who were gathered to see us off, but as I forced myself to examine them more closely, I started to realize that there was something wrong. The ten Travelers we had seen first had been virtually identical in size and appearance, as were some of the newcomers, but there was a variance in shape among many in the watching rows, and the signals reaching me were not all as focused or strong as the first ones.

“Obviously we were wrong about them dying out.” I finally said. “But take a good look at them. You’re better with your eyes.”

He did, and after a while turned back to me somberly. “I see what you mean. This is a tired bunch! I hope they have better luck at the next stop.”

“But they all woke up to see us. There must be hundreds of them!” I looked back at them. “ That makes sense. After all the effort they went to try to find… alien life, I just knew they couldn’t just sleep it all away!” I thought about the last piece of recording we had been shown and grinned. “And if they’re kicking us out before they go on—they might have made other alien contacts which—”

“Will be on the last recording!” Lazz finished, just as excited as I was.