Finches of Mars (17 page)

31

Visitors

The light was light enough, the stars—for there was no sky within the meaning of the word—gleamed in rich darkness overhead.

Gongcha and Tad were riding in a light tractor borrowed from the Works Dept of the Chinese tower. They were heading for Olympus Mons, always one of the dominant features of Mars as seen from Earth, a volcano with a vast aureole.

‘It reminds me of my own breast,' said Gongcha, smiling. ‘Which reminds me of a most peculiar dream I had in the night. Imagine a very crowded street, with people jammed on the sidewalks on either side. An open carriage of an unfashionable kind is coming slowly along the road. In the carriage is the most beautiful princess. Are you listening, Tad?'

‘Oh, sorry, yes. Go on.'

‘You were there. And in my dream, I was telling you my dream, dictating it as it happened, and you kept saying that I had told you about it before. But still the carriage kept coming and I was telling you, and the crowd were all saying, quite gently, “Aaaaah!” as if in a single breath. I was puzzled because now the carriage seemed to be going in the opposite direction. But the crowd were not noticing … And I kept telling you … You kept saying I had already told you.'

Gongcha let the tale die away. ‘Silly, really. But I was sure it was important.'

‘Uh huh, okay.'

‘You might at least pretend to listen,' she said, without malice.

Tad stopped the tractor engine. ‘I thought I heard something … A—I don't know what. You think this dream of yours all happened on Mars?' He found he was trembling.

‘Oh, I am convinced of it. But not this Mars.'

‘There it is again. Listen!'

Sound did not carry, yet this sound carried. Two notes together.

And then … they couldn't understand it …

And then a vehicle was low overhead, shaped like a surf board, but studded along the base, much like the tentacle of an octopus. It was set on a course that took it round behind Olympus, slowing all the while. The pair were like children again, clasping each other's hands.

‘It's going to land! What shall we do, Tad?' There was curiosity in her tone, salted by alarm.

Tad told her to climb out of the tractor. They both climbed out and stood by the vehicle. Gongcha clung to Tad's arm.

‘There's not much we
can
do,' he said. Yet all the time his gaze was sweeping over the tractor, looking for anything that might serve as a weapon. He saw nothing of any use. ‘If they're hostile—well, we'd never get back to the tower in time. Just stay put and try not to look alarmed.'

Gongcha's tinkling laugh was nervous. ‘But this is
not
an Earth vessel?'

‘Where else could it be from?' Even as Tad spoke, he was thinking,
My god, it could be from anywhere
.

The vehicle hovered only a few metres from the pair and then sank to the ground, churning up a cloud of dust and grit. It exuded light all round. ‘Don't move,' said Tad, grasping Gongcha's wrist.

‘Where exactly do you imagine I might move to?' she asked. ‘What's going to happen?'

Something resembling a large tongue stuck out from the floor of the vehicle. Three personages emerged from the flier and walked unhurriedly down. At first they could be seen only in silhouette. When they were farther from their craft more details were discernible. The three of them turned in unison. They wore what appeared to be short tight jackets and baggy knee-length trousers. Their midriffs were bare. Each of them had a silvery leaf-like instrument clipped to one ear. Their complexions were spectrally pale; in contrast, their hair was brown, cut short. All three had high cheekbones and strange features.

Rather more noticeable than any of this, two of the trio carried weapons resembling lances, which were pointed at Tad and Gongcha.

The unarmed member of the trio held up a hand, possibly in greeting, and said something incomprehensible.

‘Sorry,' said Tad. He felt that his bones were turning to water. ‘We—we understand what—oh, I mean we do not understand what you are saying.' Even as he said it, he shuddered with a thrill of—was it fear or even excitement?—somehow realising he was addressing—well, someone from another world … The awe of it made him gasp.

Gongcha spoke up in his stead. ‘We are surprised by your arrival. We have our own language and you will hardly expect us to understand yours. This makes communication difficult, if not impossible. So'—she bit her lip uncertainly—‘would you prefer to go away, please?' Gongcha lifted her arms to indicate the possible ease of take-off.

The three arrivals seemed to laugh without showing any amusement on their faces.

Tad registered the shape of their heads, where foreheads protruded above enlarged eyes. He was occupied with their strange beauty when the newcomers began communicating wordlessly.

The communication came in a wave, by way of stars, planets and planetesimals, winds, oceans, currents, swarming cities, cloud features and flights of birds ever a-wing, lifetimes of grandeur and squalor, circumstances and inheritance, and much else Tad could not understand, although he recognised that his misunderstanding was inevitable. Such knowledge came as a whirlwind.

Oh that communication!

This bolt from the blue, from those protruding foreheads, made it clear enough that these visitors were inheritors. Humanity's pained struggle to give birth in alien places had succeeded in only two more fleeting years from that point. Amniotic adjustment, in restoring generation—but many generations later—had resulted in these strangers now visiting; these, standing here now, on the wide pavements of Tharsis.

And she whom Tad loved, coming from another country—he saw she too had received this glorious puzzlement of communication. She and Tad clutched one another in a kind of rapture. ‘They're sus–speaking Mandarin!' she gasped.

But rapture and shock. For all the grandeurs of their armies, their artists, their autocrats and kings, humanity—the communication made that at least clear—humanity was but one life form among a myriad more.

Tad recovered himself sufficiently to address them again.

‘We are astonished. If you are what you seem, then this is an archi–architival situation. No. I meant to say archetypal. Did I? You look remarkably like us. Many generations ago, our forefathers descended from apes. It may be the same with you … Sorry—I'm babbling …

‘Perhaps you have been mistaken in believing that we speak Language A, when all the time we speak Language B. Since we are residents of this planet, we believe that you should use Language B when in conversation with us. My hope is that you understand my speech after that great wordless—that wordless communication of yours.'

Gongcha stared at him in astonishment. ‘What are you on about?'

Tad closed his eyes, still unable fully to believe this meeting was happening.

‘This is as incomprehensible as my dream.' Gongcha looked about her but there was no one else to be seen. ‘How can we cope after that … what was it? The vision they communicated?'

After holding a brief word with one another, two of the three newcomers retreated into their machine. They returned after some minutes—minutes evidently devoted to extrapolation—with what looked like a slender glass booklet. The gadget spoke perfect Mandarin and English.

‘Your speech is welcome. We see you are carrying no injurious weapons. That is well. Accompany us to your living place.'

‘The rudiments of a living place, at least,' said Tad, as they set off back to the towers, followed by the newcomers, who said nothing more. Their craft followed them. Silent. Alien. Hull just above ground.

Tad clutched Gongcha's arm. ‘Can you believe this? Is all this real?'

She was staring at the newcomers. ‘Is it destiny? I want to touch one of them. Could this be the irresistible reason—hidden from all of us—why we came to Mars in the first place?'

‘I don't understand.'

Then, suddenly agitated, ‘Just suppose they turn on us, kill us—know till your dying breath I loved you.'

‘Oh and I you, dearest. But these are linguists. Linguists don't kill. Do they?'

‘How can I know?' she said. ‘But at least that great communication teaches us there are many things we do not understand, even about life itself …'

They had to leave their tractor where it stood.

32

Descendants from the Present

They were awaited. Many people had left the five remaining towers spurred by curiosity or apprehension or a combination of both. Above them, above the towers, above Tharsis, now hovered a great grey machine, its nearside flank reflecting the rays of the sun. It was the shape of a slice of melon, although its size was far more grand. It was the main ship, to the shuttle that Tad and Gongsha had encountered.

If the ship was not from Earth, which seemed apparent from the ship's design, then from whence did it come? Was it hostile? Several humanoids emerged from this machine, descending in a mighty elevator, to look about with intense interest.

People continued to emerge cautiously from West and China towers, and then from the more distant towers. They were fearful and stood in small clusters, muttering among themselves. Everyone, it seemed, had received the great enveloping communication.

Silence. No movement. At length, a separate door in the elevator slid open. A small man in saffron robes emerged. On his head he wore a kind of crown from which simulated flames arose. He bore a placard on which were glowing the words:

HAVE NO FEARS—WE ARE THE DESCENDANTS OF YOU PRESENT PEOPLE HERE

Much muttering from the crowd. ‘Supposing they are descendants,' Doran said. ‘Do they happen to love their parents?' It was a nervous joke, and his lip trembled.

‘But if it's true …' Tuot's voice was shrill. ‘If it's true then the question of childbirth is solved.'

This seminal fact was discussed only later, for now they concentrated on the grand visitors who had appeared from the visiting ship.

An object resembling a sunshade was switched on and one of the visitors held it above the head of the tallest of their group.

This imposing person began addressing the crowd in his native tongue, to the mystification of all. It was Ooma who cried out suddenly, ‘Did you hear? He used the word “metanipoko”! Our word! Our coinage!'

The grand person broke off his speech to repeat, smiling, the word ‘metanipoko'.

He ran forward and embraced Ooma, then held her shoulders at arm's length.

It was at this juncture that Tad and Gongcha arrived with their escort.

Noel crossed to Tad and was informed that they had managed to speak to the newcomers; but how, she puzzled, had they been able to use this word ‘metanipoko', coined here on Tharsis?

‘Come on, Noel,' someone interjected from behind her. ‘Does it matter? Don't think we're not amazed and absolutely delighted!'

Aided by the translation box, the leading newcomer addressed the crowds still gathering. For some it appeared he spoke in English, but to Gongcha and others who had come out from the China tower to stand silent in wonder his speech was Mandarin.

‘We gain pleasure from finding you. I will tell you things of great importance …

‘Perhaps you people here do not realise that the concept of “the universe” is a relic of pre-Copernican thinking. At that time, Earth was supposedly the centre about which the so-called heavenly bodies revolved. Even when the advance of knowledge proved it seriously incorrect, I believe you ancient people continued to use the term for convenience.

‘Reality is far larger and more nebulous than you could ever have supposed. Even Einstein long ago declared in his special theory of relativity that time dilation was a possibility. Fast-moving ships will experience time at a different rate to a stationary observer. On our ships, we slow time down almost to a halt.

‘It was Noh Ma in your times who laid the foundations for a new understanding of our Reality.

‘Gallowan, two centuries ago—our centuries, I fear, not yours—estimated that there were methods whereby a fast-moving body could enter and ride the time spike forward or, indeed, backward. This is what we refer to as the Gallowan Equation or a GE, an adaptation of Noh Ma's work. It would take a day to explain these equations, and then I doubt if you people are entirely equipped to understand. You would require training beforehand.'

‘Condescending bastick!' exclaimed Daze. The process that delayed Martian aging to near immortality had slowed the rate of growth from child to adult, too. But, Daze had long been adult now, and was a full and working member of the Martian community.

‘But he's probably right,' said Piggy.

Daze raised her hand to ask a question, saying, ‘Who is this Noh Ma of whom you speak? Or are we too primitive to hear it?'

The noble person smiled, saying with grave courtesy, ‘You may indeed be too primitive for many things, but for sure you have heard the name of the Japanese astrophysicist who first opened the way to Reality space. His name was at one time anglicised. It was Noh Ma Nikasaki.'

The noble person smiled and continued his discourse.

‘The modification and application of Gallowan's equation led to the construction of a small working model which they sent backwards in time. It sent us a signal to say we were correct in our calculations. The faster than light trail existed, binding reality together. That was before the model disappeared entirely.'

Gongcha was listening and watching Tad. Tad was listening with his mouth slightly open. Seeing that Gongcha was looking at him, he said in a whisper, ‘What power! D'you reckon they'd take us to their future?'

She shrugged, thinking,
Is it power or adventure that arouses him? I can see it's going to be over between us, sooner or later. Alas. In any case … Well, I was tiring of him.

She tuned in to what the noble person was saying.

‘… building the sizeable vessel which you see anchored above us. When moving, it easily exceeds the so-called speed of light. Passageways winding between the gravitational pull of various solid bodies—they help. So we can travel where we will among star systems. It also means we can travel to the past. As you have just observed …'

Gior found herself trembling. At this extraordinary evolutionist moment, she felt they should be hearing the most valiant silver music—and there it was …

‘Shouldn't we be offering them something?' Gior whispered to Gerint. ‘If they're that puissant?'

‘What do we have that would not make us appear abject in their eyes?' said Gerint.

The noble person repeated himself, just in case he had not been understood. ‘Under Gallowan's and his team's modifications, we are now able to travel to our distant past. With no harm to ourselves.

‘You, my friends, primitive though you may be, are our honoured predecessors. Do you understand this? You are our predecessors in the great chain of being. We have developed mentally and bodily. Of the mental aspect I will say that when we converse together, we conjure pictures or pictograms as in groups of words in Chinese scripts.

‘These we can alternate as Obscure or Factional, as the situation requires. Our progeny master all such language versions–' here he paused ‘–I suppose around fifty or fifty-five versions.

‘As for bodily development. It is necessary that I show you an example by way of demonstration.'

As he spoke, this noble person opened his curiously formed drawers.

A gasp went up from the crowd as his naked flesh was revealed. Wrinkled proboscis-like skin was bisected by a vertical crack where it seemed there was a closed lip of flesh capable of opening when needed.

Reactions were mixed, gasps, laughs, a ‘Disgusting!' from Phipp.

Enclosing his remarkable anatomy within his drawers again, the noble person said, ‘You may deduce from this development that many years have passed between your lifetimes and ours. And also changing environments.' He spoke plainly, almost with indifference. ‘Evolution is a continuous process, improving our survival rates.'

A babble of discussion arose. ‘And modesty is extinct,' someone giggled.

‘Be quiet!' Herrit shouted. ‘We are not Palaeolithics. Hear him out. You men, you find this funny?'

‘Why, it's nigh on miraculous …'

‘Why does he bother?'

‘I wish I understood the language shifts he spoke about.'

‘I don't like this at all.'

‘Oh dear, what's to become of us!'

‘Why, this, you ass …'

And sundry other comments.