F. Brejcha: With Other Eyes

I went back to the beginning: a roiling ocean that seemed to cover nearly an entire planet. Moving over to the next pictures, I saw the ocean begin to fill up, first with tiny, unidentifiable shapes, and then with small jellyfish-like shapes that swam in pairs. Gradually, the jellyfish grew in size and complexity, and by the fourth frame, I could see the beginnings of the round sense-organ in the middle of the body.

Lazz had been following along with me. “Early sonar, like dolphins.”

I nodded. “Once they left the ocean, the organ evolved.”

Gradually, the Travelers—I couldn’t think of them as jellyfish anymore—grew larger and lost their earlier etherial look. The oceans were shrinking, too. Comparing pictures, I realized that the sun was growing larger in the pictures. Only in small increments, but it was noticeable. Apparently that was the impetus for a migration to the land, because one of the next frames showed denser Travelers making their first forays onto land, struggling to move as they were propelled by dozens of thick tentacles.

I glanced over at Lazz. “Increasing mineral concentrations in the water, less living space—”

“Less food, etc.,” he continued. “Classic evolutionary forces.” He looked back at the patiently waiting Travelers.

“I wonder if this is why they wanted you to have the same type of vision: so you could see this? It seems like we’re expected to study this.”

“I have the same feeling,” I agreed, looking back at the mural.

Subsequent panels showed various stages in Traveler evolution, social and technical. One thing I found interesting was that it was not until after the beginning of an industrial age that any type of buildings appeared. Shelter from rain was apparently not a concern, but with the advent of scientific experimentation in chemistry and metallurgy, buildings began to appear. Almost exclusively to house laboratories at first, it seemed. And even after population density increased, the dwellings I saw depicted were minimal and very open to the elements.

“This is starting to make sense.” Lazz waved around us. “They’re not used to living inside.”

“Apparently not,” I agreed. The Travelers stood motionless, patiently waiting… No! Just waiting. I would have to be careful not to anthropomorphize their actions. I turned back to the wall.

Water still covered large parts of the planet, though islands and sections of land were more and more in evidence. But the Travelers never ventured far from the water. The first vehicles I saw evidence of were ships, and commerce and transportation seemed to be exclusively by water. Then I saw the Travelers return to the depths of the ocean, but this time in diving suits and submarines.

Skipping a few frames, I saw the sun continue to grow and the oceans to shrink. Now the Travelers were turning their attentions upwards. Telescopes, at first, then crude exploratory rockets, and finally, the first Travelers in space. More and more telescopes appeared, evenly divided between examining the sun, and searching deep space. And simultaneous with their first steps into space, huge floating dishes appeared on the seas and on the highest land areas available. Radio-astronomical observatories to scan the skies, I presumed, and Lazz mumbled an agreement.

“Looks like they’re figuring out that something’s going wrong with their sun, and they’re also trying to see if anyone else is out there. They’re probably trying to call for help.”

We both glanced up at that final frame momentarily, eyes skipping away as the finality of what we were seeing sank in.

The succeeding frames showed an increasing focus on space, with larger and more complex space ships, reaching out to plant bases on the two moons, and then on larger asteroid bodies scattered through the system. There were no other planets to colonize. Then a framework appeared in space: a monumental manufacturing facility floating at what had to be one of their Lagrange points. The resources of the whole world were apparently focused on it, and construction began on a vast fleet of ships such as the one we were in. Frame by frame, I saw the world change as the oceans continued to recede.

The final picture was the one I had focused on first, where the exodus from the Travelers’ home world had begun, and my eyes returned there. But with my new perspective, I noticed something else as my eyes brushed its way to the apex of the triangle: I had thought that the last dozen frames were decorated with a border along the base, but I realized now that there was a much more somber reason for the detailing. Focusing until my eyes hurt—or were those tears trying to come out but finding no place to go?—I saw that the border decorations consisted of long rows of tiny stylized Traveler pairs. But panel by panel, approaching the final picture on the top, the number of rows diminished. From twelve rows of tiny figures on the first panel to use the population census, the final one had only a fraction of a single line.

My chest was hurting in a way I had not felt since Ellen died as I realized that that final frame probably was showing an exodus. There were a huge number of ships launched, but only a tiny percentage of the population remaining, so perhaps everyone was leaving?

“I wonder how many were left at the end?” Lazz asked, his voice choked.

I looked at him a bit surprised. The whole time I had known him, he had always been a split second from a wise-crack; never serious, except where Liza was concerned.

“Not many,” I answered, realizing my own voice was as broken as his. “God! Can you imagine what it must have been like, living all your life with that sun overhead, the radiation getting stronger and stronger, baking away the ocean and the life around you?”

“No,” Lazz answered quietly. “But it sure makes me ashamed when I remember the things I’ve bitched about!”

“At least we know why they’re here.” I looked back at our guides. They were still standing motionless, waiting. “They’re looking for a new home!”

“Boy, did they come to the wrong neighborhood!” Lazz shook his head. “They obviously can’t come down to Earth, even if the politicians would let ’em, and what else can we give them? Venus is too hot, and Mars is too cold. Never mind their atmospheres.”

“I don’t know.” I looked around. “They’re ahead of us, technologically, maybe they can do something. But, boy, do I wish I had a line to Liza right now. If the Travelers want me to negotiate some kind of landing rights somewhere, I am in deep… shit.”

“About time you loosened up,” Lazz teased, trying to fight the gloom that had overwhelmed us. “But you’re right: you can’t okay anything like that.”

We both turned to the Travelers as I reached down shakily for my Braille pad. On the one hand I was still close to crying for the Travelers, but on the other hand, I was feeling dizzy and excited by everything that was happening. From a sheltered university teaching position to having my eyes cut out and being picked as mankind’s sole… well almost sole, representative to meet aliens—what a change of life! Part of me wanted to crawl back in a hole and zip it shut, but the other part wanted to climb up on a building and shout. I felt moved by forces greater than me to find out about our visitors. All through history, the mass perception of aliens had either been as God-like saviors or as conquering demons; both views doing little to flatter us as a species. But here was a chance to redeem ourselves in our own eyes and I didn’t want to screw it up.

I couldn’t believe it, but I was suddenly wishing for the presence of the very same bureaucrats I had been endlessly cursing before.

Restraining a morbid laugh, I typed: “Take us to your leaders.”