A Learning Experience

Chapter Five

Montana, USA

The Stuart Family Ranch wasn’t that large, not compared to some of the huge ranches in Montana. Situated between two mountain ranges, it consisted of three barns, five fields and a large pond Steve had fished in, when he was a younger child. His ancestors had made it a point of pride that their somewhat isolated ranch rarely needed to hire outside help. The family could handle it for themselves, they’d decided, although they’d had problems doing both that and fighting for their country. But it had bred a self-reliance in them that had kept the family going through thick and thin.

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.

He looked up as the hatch opened, revealing two humans. It was hard to tell the scrawny bipeds apart, but one of them wore a neural interface, suggesting that he’d been one of the original captives. The thought made him clack his feet against the deck in frustration. It was clear, now, that the Varnar hadn’t engineered fighting abilities into their cyborgs. They were natural fighters, even when taken by surprise and transported into an utterly unfamiliar environment.

The second human took a step backwards as Cn!lss came into view. It was hard — again — to be sure, but the protrusions on the human’s chest suggested a female… unless the humans were radically different from the other biped races. Not that that meant the female would be subordinate, he reminded himself sharply. There were races where one sex was clearly superior and races where both sexes were equals… and races where swapping sex was as natural as breathing. For all he knew, he was looking at the Queen of Earth.

“I greet you,” he said, dropping into the Posture of Respect. Whatever she was, he had a feeling that rudeness to her would not go unpunished. “I am Cn!lss.”

There was a long pause as the translator worked through his words. “Hi,” the human female said, in return. “I am…”

Cn!lss cocked his head, unsurprised, as the translator failed to provide any translation for the alien name. Unlike concepts such as technology, basic names and superstitions were hard to translate, no matter how capable the computers operating the system. Besides, one race’s religion and naming conventions were another race’s source of endless amusement.

“I would like to examine your body,” the human female said. “Would that be permissible?”

“Yes,” Cn!lss said. Compared to the torture he’d been expecting, a medical examination wouldn’t be too bad. “I would not object at all.”

Steve had been reminded — again — of just why he’d fallen in love with Mariko. She’d stopped dead when she’d seen the alien, as if nothing she’d seen up to then had been quite real, and then she’d gone forward and started a conversation. Now, she was poking and prodding at the alien’s body, all the while bombarding him with questions about how his body actually worked. Not all of the answers seemed to make sense, but at least they were learning something.

“They’re egg-layers,” Mariko said, afterwards. They left the alien in the cabin and walked out to a place where they could talk. “And they’re real.”

“They sure are,” Steve said. “What else did you find out?”

“He’s quite ignorant of how his body works,” Mariko said. “I’d need a proper laboratory to do more research, but I think he knows almost nothing. It seems odd.”

“These guys seem to have been kept in ignorance,” Steve muttered. It still seemed absurd to him that the aliens didn’t even begin to comprehend the potentials of their own systems, but he had seen human groups with similar levels of ignorance. He straightened up as Mongo and Jayne walked past, the latter looking completely stunned. “Welcome to our new ship.”

“Thank you,” Jayne stammered. Unlike Mariko, her family had been ranchers for the last two hundred years and had no intention of leaving their land. But that might have changed now, Steve knew. The children, in particular, would be fascinated by the starship… and the chance to live on the moon. “This is… this is…”

Steve sighed, inwardly. Mariko was adaptable, Jayne… was not. But it was hard to blame her; she’d grown up in Montana, never gone to college or anything else that might have taken her out of the state and married a man she’d known since they were both children. It was a comfortable marriage, Steve considered, but it wasn’t exciting. Or maybe he was completely wrong. Both he and Mongo were gentlemen. They didn’t kiss their wives and then compare notes.

“Something new,” he said. Would Jayne refuse to join them? Would they have to decide what to do about someone who wanted out sooner rather than later? “And it’s one hell of an opportunity.”

“Yes,” Jayne said. She wrinkled her nose. “It also stinks.”

Steve watched Mongo lead his wife further into the ship, then nodded to Mariko and led her back towards the teleport compartment. Mariko bombarded him with questions about how the system worked, questions that produced little or no useful data from the interface. It was quite happy to teach them how to teleport into a high security zone — it crossed Steve’s mind that he could simply beam into the White House — but it still wasn’t prepared to tell them how the technology actually worked. Steve made a mental note about hiring scientists who might be able to start unlocking its mysteries, then set their destination coordinates as close to Vincent’s home as he dared. Living on the edge of a town, Vincent had far more neighbours than Steve and his family.

“I wonder,” Mariko said, as she eyed the teleporter, “what happens if we merge with something else that’s already there.”

Steve queried the interface. “Apparently,” he said after a moment, “the compensators push everything out of the way.”

He paused, considering it. The system would make one hell of a weapon, if used properly… or they could simply teleport bombs onto enemy ships. No, somehow he doubted that was possible. If a relatively small terminal could mess up the teleport lock, it was certain that a more advanced race had ways to block teleport signals. They certainly wouldn’t share the technology with a band of barbarian scavengers if they didn’t have any way to defend against it.

Mariko held herself very still as Steve joined her on the pad, then sent the signal. The starship faded away around them, to be replaced by the edges of a small farm. Steve glanced around quickly, wondering if they had been seen by one of Vincent’s hired hands, then led the way towards the farmhouse. Mariko followed, her face surprisingly pale. It was clear that she didn’t like teleporting, no matter how efficient it was. But Steve suspected she wouldn’t be the only one who had her doubts about the system.

He smiled as he saw Vincent’s small collection of older cars parked in the yard. Vincent could have expanded the farm several times over for what he’d paid for the vehicles, to say nothing of the difficulties he faced in keeping them running. But Vincent had always been a little paranoid about new technology, pointing out — when they’d teased him — just how often it had failed on the battlefield. When the Chinese dropped an EMP bomb on the US, he’d said, they’d be glad of his cars then. And, until then, they were a hobby.

Poor bastard, Steve thought, as he reached the farmhouse door and knocked. You deserved so much better.

Vincent’s wife opened the door and peered at them, alarmed. Steve cursed, inwardly; normally, carefully-trained officers were sent to inform wives and families of their death of their husbands and fathers in combat. It was never a duty he’d wanted, nor was it one he’d ever had to do until now. And he didn’t know what to say.

“Ginny,” Mariko said, taking the lead, “can we come in?”

Ginny paled, but led them into the sitting room. Vincent had decorated half of it with paintings and drawings of vintage cars, Ginny had decorated the other half with paintings of flowers and her family. She was quite a talented artist, Steve had often considered, when she had time to paint. Normally, the life of a farmwife consumed all of her time. He felt an odd lump in his throat when he saw a painting of Vincent himself, then one of Mariko from years ago. There was something almost waiflike in her face that had faded over the years.

“I’m afraid we have bad news,” Steve said. He hesitated, watching her rapidly paling face. What did one say to a wife who’d just lost her husband? And a wife who would have to help fake the conditions of her husband’s death to avoid attracting attention? “Vincent…”

“Is dead,” Ginny finished. She shook, suddenly. “What happened? And why?”

Steve took a breath and explained everything.

“Impossible,” Ginny said, when he had finished. She didn’t sound as if she believed them. “He can’t have died like that, surely.”

Steve wondered, suddenly, what she was thinking. He hadn’t been as close to Vincent as he was to Mongo, so he had no idea how strong his friend’s marriage had been. Did Ginny think that Vincent had run off with a younger woman and convinced Steve to tell his wife a cock-and-bull story to explain his disappearance? But surely no one would come up with such a story and expect it to be believed?

“It’s true,” Mariko said. She held out a hand as Ginny started to cry, then wrapped her into a hug. Steve watched, awkwardly, as the two women held each other tightly. Female tears had always embarrassed him. “We’ll take you to see the body.”

“Yes,” Steve said. He send the instructions through the interface. “Brace yourself.”

Once again, the world dissolved into silver light.