Larry Goes To Space (13 page)

“Please do not be offended, human,” Scooter looked thoughtful, but not shocked at Larry’s suggestion of sharing a room with him.

Scooter added, “We are grateful for your help, but that was easily done for your own sense of self-preservation. It was done to protect the ship, yes? That is just as all creatures will run from a prairie fire. To stop and eat would mean your own death. But now the emergency has passed, you will eat us when you get hungry, yes? Fortunately, Ginger just fed you right before the fire broke out.”

Larry laughed, “That nut log is still sitting in my room on the pallet. I haven’t eaten it yet. And all this activity has made me as hungry as a 1968 Corvette running on empty.” He could see the Teumessians edge closer to the door. “But I wouldn’t eat you. Crap! At this point, I’ll take a short walk into outer space before I’d do that. I know that you don’t believe me, but trust me on this. I’ve seen the Teumessians run; I couldn’t catch you even if I tried.”

The Teumessians looked skeptical.

“Okay,” Larry said. “The offer is out there. Share my room or not.” He would have gone back to his room, but the Teumessians were between him and the hatch. He didn’t want to startle them by making sudden moves in their direction. “Besides, you didn’t tell me if you had other rooms, or cabins, or bays on the spaceship.”

Scooter nodded his head. “We do indeed. There are many such places for storage and cargo on this ship, however the Tetra has declared we should not use them on this voyage for fear we will cause damage and — and — what is the word? — depreciation.”

Since Larry had never owned a new car, or a used one until the last one quit running and couldn’t be fixed, he didn’t really get the whole depreciation thing, but it was silly to worry about it on a used spacecraft. Still, the Teumessians would either have to sleep in the corridors, on the bridge, in a forbidden area, or with him.

Betty said, “You have touched me and I didn’t die. Even after the fire was out you have had opportunity to kill and eat us, yet you have resisted. I would share your room, if you can spare a small corner for me.”

Larry gave assent with his best hands to the face style. “You may have any corner that I’m not already sleeping in.”

Veronica said, “I will share a space as well, but only so long as my new friend Betty sleeps between us. That way if you get hungry you will eat her first and I can escape.”

Betty looked thoughtful, “Agreed. As your new friend I will give my life that you may live and remember me.”

Larry said, “Betty, I do think that you’re beginning to understand the friend thing.”

Betty had a pleased look on her face. Larry couldn’t tell what it was about her face that looked pleased, it sure didn’t look like any human facial expression, but somehow the emotion came through.

Humans often discounted how much they relied on non-spoken communication. Between humans, more is said than is ever spoken. Humans have also become used to canine expressions of pleasure over the past few thousand years. Larry could read Ol’ Bucky like a children’s book. The Teumess weren’t canine, but Betty’s facial expression connected somewhere in Larry’s synapses. It was more of a connection than he’d ever made with his cows, no matter how telepathic Scooter said they were.

Betty walked to a blank wall and depressed a section. There weren’t any buttons, dimples, or marks to show where to push. It looked as if she chose a spot at random. The wall flopped open, a portion hinged down parallel to the floor and it became a table. She pulled out a perfectly rolled and tied sleeping pallet and a few items that she stuffed into a bag. She gathered the items up and gave the little table a perfect imitation of a hockey player’s hip check. The little table shot back up into the wall and closed the storage space.

Veronica shrugged and opened another portion of the wall. A wadded bundle was her sleeping pallet. She depressed another section and a chair flopped open. She sat and began to roll up her pallet and pull personal items from the cubbyhole.

Scooter looked at Larry. “My whole family was killed by the—” The translator could only interpret the word as a huge pack of small to medium sized carnivores with sharp teeth and claws for killing more than they could eat.

Larry told the translator to interpret the Teumess word as stobor. As a fan of Heinlein’s early fiction, he was sure there would never be a planet settled by humans that didn’t have half-crazed killing creatures called stobor.

“I alone was left alive. It was a wasted death because they killed my family, not for nourishment, but for the enjoyment of killing. Why the stobor did not kill me is unknown. If they were intelligent and not just all teeth and claws I would have assumed it was to torture me and drive me insane.”

He popped open a section of wall and began pulling out his own stuff. “It now seems that I have friends instead of family. I could not stand the torture of losing more Teumessians that I care for.” He looked at Larry. “Promise me this, eater of flesh. If you desire meat and cannot control the desire, kill and eat me first, that I may nourish your body and that I may not see my friends die. You will do this, yes?”

Oh God, aliens...Your explanation for anything slightly peculiar is aliens, isn't it? You lose your keys—it's aliens.
(Lister in
Red Dwarf, Series II
)

CHAPTER EIGHT

LARRY replied, “No. Wait! Yes. I mean, okay, if I can’t control myself, I’ll eat you first. But, I promise I can control my carnivore urges, or rather my omnivore urges.”

Scooter waved his hands no. “We have been receiving your media transmissions for a long time now. They disagree with you. These transmissions are very clear. Humans give in to any emotion no matter how slight or seemingly insignificant.”

Larry said, “Yeah, but that’s just television.” He grabbed both female’s sleeping pallets and carried them out of the burned out kitchen heading down the hall to his room, the cabin, their cabin, the communal living space. The three Teumessians followed, carrying other belongings; Scooter pulling the translator along by its leash.

“Television,” Larry said over his shoulder, “isn’t designed to simulate reality. Even that stuff they call reality TV isn’t real. It’s all designed to entertain.”

“Humans are entertained by visions of murder, robbery, mayhem, disease, and war?” Scooter asked.

“Well, um — yeah, I guess so. But by watching it, even if it’s fake, you know, not real, it helps us control some of those urges. We can live vicariously through those television images where the actors do things that we couldn’t or wouldn’t do ourselves.”

“This understanding may give us insight into the Almas,” Veronica said.

Betty nodded, “There may be more similarities between these humans and the Almas than we earlier thought. The Almas seem to have their baser urges mollified by the entertainment quotient.”

“Huh?” Larry asked, not confused about what Betty had said, but more from the idea that another species might be broadcasting television signals that humans hadn’t ever heard and humans have been listening for those signals for years. “The Almas have television like humans?”

“They certainly have some method of entertainment transmission, but nothing we have ever picked up on our probe’s receivers.” Scooter replied. “Still Veronica and Betty are correct. Vicarious viewing may be a controlling factor in why the Almas are doing what they are doing.”

They reached their room before Larry could ask more about the Almas. The three Teumessians began opening storage cubbyholes, unfastening furniture, dropping it to the floor and generally cluttering up the space. Larry really felt like an idiot for not at least asking where he could put his stuff away. He just assumed that because there were no chairs visible there were no chairs.

“Well, you can see where I have my sleeping pallet, so you can find space as far away from me as you need. Do you want to get some rope or something and tie me up at night?” Larry asked.

“It does not matter, friend Larry,” Scooter replied. “I gave you permission to nourish your body with mine. I have done this because I can see no other alternative to stop my insanity and I am tired of being insane. Please avail yourself of my flesh at your earliest convenience.”

Betty nodded. “I am tired of being insane, as well. Do not eat me just yet. I want to know more about this friends phenomenon. How strong is this bond?” Her hopeful look didn’t need a translator as it could easily be recognized, even by another species.

Larry flopped down on his pallet using his backpack as a backrest. Unlacing his boots and pulling them off, he decided to ignore Scooter’s plea to be consumed. Ignoring strange requests was easy for Larry considering his family’s practice of making outlandish, eccentric, peculiar, and often perplexing special requests. “I don’t know about Teumessians. But for humans, some friendship bonds are stronger than family bonds. It’s often said that we’re born into our families, but we choose our friends.”

Larry suddenly wondered about the phrase “it is often said”. He never said that phrase before now. His dad never said it. Who actually said it and — if it was often — how many times constituted often?

“Choice is very important to humans,” Larry said.

Veronica said, “I would hear more about friends, but first I must ask. Why have you not put your pallet away during non-sleep time? We wanted to ask earlier, but your teeth worry us. Are you always tired? Is there a problem with our gravity that we do not recognize?”

Larry was embarrassed, but he confessed. “I didn’t know there were places to put things away. I still can’t see how you’re opening those wall panels.”

Betty said, “Just push where indicated and the wall units open by themselves.”

“Where what is indicated?”

“Where the opener is!” Betty answered. “There.” she pointed at a spot just above his head. Since he was still sitting on his pallet, the spot couldn’t have been more than three or four feet up from the floor.

“Nope. I don’t get it,” Larry said. He tried the raising one eyebrow ala Spock gesture, so he wouldn’t look too much like an idiot. “You’re pointing at a spot on the wall.”

“Yes,” said Betty. “Now you understand.” Her nose gave a little wrinkle, not so much in amusement at Larry’s facial contortions or his lack of understanding at such simple instructions, but almost the exact nose wrinkle that Ol’ Bucky used when Larry pulled his work boots off after a hard day on the farm.

“Are you sure I understand?” Larry asked.

Veronica replied, “Yes. It is just the spot on the wall, just like you said.” Her nose wrinkle was obviously due to Larry’s confusion more than the odor of his feet.

“But how do you know where the spot is?” Larry asked. “It’s just a blank wall.”

Betty gave a little yip he was coming to recognize as laughter. “Of course it is a blank wall until you press it and then it becomes something else.”

Larry said, “No.” The no was one of those long drawn out words where an author would use five or six oooooos to get their point across, despite what their editor said about grammar. “I get that part, but I don’t know where you’re saying to press. You say to push where indicated. I don’t see any indications.” He remained sitting, but craned his neck around to view the wall, eyeballing it from a few inches away.

Betty hesitated slightly, then scurried across the room to stand next to him. She pointed at the wall.

Larry shrugged. He couldn’t see anything other than the blank wall and Betty’s finger pointing at a blank spot no different than any other blank spot.

Betty pushed the wall and a table dropped down, smacking Larry on the top of his head.

Betty, Scooter, and Veronica all yipped with laugher.

“Okay,” Larry said. “I apparently agreed to share my cabin with three comedians.” It was just exactly like the college fraternity he’d started to pledge. He quit after he realized that most of them had a fourth grade sense of humor. It had all been boogers and farts. Even the mature few among the bunch were only interested in beer and boobs. Not that Larry had a problem with boobs, beer, or boogers, but college is about growth and he’d decided the fraternity was a step backward for him.

Having an alien creature drop a table on his head was so three-stooges-like, it was almost human. But he laughed like the rest of them, only with a more Earth-style chuckle than what sounded like the dogfight coming from the Teumessians.

He stood up next to Betty, suddenly realizing he was quite a bit taller than she was. He had come to think of them as taller. Surely, the misconception had something to do with recognizing their intelligence rather than looking at only their physical characteristics. He had long since learned that looking good and being good were two very different things. His ex-wife Nancy taught him that, not so much in a verbal lesson, but she could teach by example better than most.

Larry suppressed the urge to pat Betty on the head or scratch her behind the ears. Ol’ Bucky always liked a good behind the ears scratching. He was going to have to work hard to keep from thinking that just because the Teumessians were fox-like, it didn’t mean they reacted the same as anything from Earth’s canine corps.

Besides Ol’ Bucky wasn’t a good example of canine exactitude. He was such a mix that no one was sure what breeds were involved in his DNA mix. One day he wanted to be scratched on his back just above the tail and the next day he didn’t want to be touched anywhere. Now that Larry thought about it, that was a lot like Nancy.

He ran his fingertips lightly over the wall where Betty had pushed. He couldn’t feel anything and no matter how close he looked, he couldn’t see anything. He decided the Teumess must see a slightly different spectrum than humans. He rolled up his pallet, stuffing it and the backpack into the wall cubby.

He handed the nut log from the replicator to Betty. “Help yourselves if you’re hungry; just leave a little for me to nibble on.” He was ravenous, but he could do without if their supplies were limited. None of the Teumessians had mentioned any loss of foodstuffs from the kitchen fire. He would have to wait and see.

He pulled a small marker from his backpack and put a tiny dot on the wall. He opened and closed the table a few times.

“Betty, where do you push to open a chair?” he asked.

He placed a small mark on the wall where she pointed and pressed. A chair dropped into place. After sitting, he realized the chair was almost exactly the correct size for a human and although it only had three legs, it looked exactly like a chair a human would make.

He knew that exact — when it comes to humans — is an inexact term. Humans ranged in size from diminutive to pro-basketball tall and from female gymnast dainty to pro-football linebacker — the American kind of football, not the weird Australian stuff.

The chair seemed to fit his bottom-side as comfortably as his kitchen chairs and his feet rested on the floor just fine. The whole design was all much too big for a Teumess. Maybe they liked their stuff oversized and maybe they liked having to reach up for an emergency fire handle. Maybe they hadn’t built the stuff.

“Hey! Did you guys buy this spaceship used?”

Scooter nodded. “Of course. The builders presented us with this and nineteen other ships upon our acceptance into the Union. The price was just a few tons of gold for all of them. They had been previously used, but as you can see, they are very durable.”

The translator mangled the weight and the name of the metal. Nevertheless, the Teumess obviously thought either the weight was insignificant or they had little regard for the metal. He imagined many on Earth would find any weight of gold as a good trade for a working spaceship. He would trade his farm, his cattle, his car, and throw in his grandmother for a working spaceship — well, maybe his grandfather. But the old man wasn’t in prime working condition, so he didn’t add much to the bargain.

Larry put his work boots on the table. He pulled his belt off and dropped it next to the boots. Covered in soot and smoke wasn’t all that unusual for him, considering the condition was a standard result for any extended camping trip. Getting dirty was even less unusual for Larry. Although showers weren’t always a daily occurrence, getting dirty was. In a method he used whenever he had to clean up after mucking out the barn, he stepped into the shower fully clothed. At least, he stepped into what passed for a shower on the spaceship.

There wasn’t any shower curtain to pull closed for privacy or any stall door to slide shut. The Teumessians hadn’t shown any desire for alien probing and hadn’t expressed any interest in his physical attributes. That was probably due to the fact that they had access to cable television and they had had wireless internet for years. Any alien who studied humans by viewing human entertainment wouldn’t have too many questions left to ask. Thinking about it, there wasn’t any information an alien could learn from a good probing that they didn’t already know from some of the medical shows on cable television.

Since Larry wasn’t particularly shy, he poked a finger in the hole on the wall and the water gushed out over him. He decided showering in front of extraterrestrial aliens wasn’t that much different than showering after gym class in middle school.

However, the situation was unusual enough that he didn’t wonder in the least why the water outlet had a small button at the bottom of a slight recess in the wall and not a hidden button like the table and chairs. Still, if he’d thought about it, he would have decided that plumbing and electrical systems were two different things and didn’t appear to be designed with any cohesive thought to control functions.

He splashed a bit, but the Teumessians weren’t standing close enough to be sprayed. He watched the grime flush down the magic hole in the floor. He scrubbed as best as he could with his bare knuckles. He did have a couple bars of soap, but he hoped to use it for washing his body for as long as he could make them last. One bar was already about half way gone.

All of the roughage he had been eating for the last few days had him generating some strange methane expulsions. However, not showering was exactly like wearing every smell you came in contact with, but intensified. Going for a few days without a shower, especially when doing farm labor, is an experiment in strange odors. It was exactly like the difference between listening to adult contemporary music on the radio and going to a rock concert. The radio may have been soft and soothing, almost elevator-like, but ten feet from gigantic speakers was a sure invitation to early on-set hearing impairment.