Starbridge (13 page)

"No, we need you in case somebody gets hurt or sick. I'll do it," Simon volunteered. "But what about contact with the Simiu themselves? To test
their
bugs, we need a blood sample--at least.''

"I'll have to think about how to accomplish that," Rob said with a frown.

The next morning, Rob and Jerry put on suits, while Simon, unsuited, stood by. When they were ready, Jerry triggered the opening sequence, and they stepped out into the aliens' tunnel between
Desiree
and the Simiu airlock.

The Bio Officer took several deep breaths, while Rob and Jerry watched him anxiously. He smiled, giving them a thumbs-up sign. "How is it?" Rob asked.

i

"I feel a little high because of the extra oxygen, but otherwise, fine," Simon reported, speaking into a radio link he wore. "There's a faint odor . . . kind of musky-spicy. Not objectionable, though."

"Let me know immediately if you have any trouble," Rob 79

said. He continued to observe Viorst while Jerry busied himself with minute adjustments to the computer link. The Bio Officer wandered over to study the design of the aliens' airlock.

"What kind of metal is this?" Simon asked, eyeing the station's silvery blue skin thoughtfully.

"I don't know," Jerry answered, glancing up from the keyboard. "Some kind of alloy? Maybe Paul could tell you."

The Bio Officer moved to touch the frame around the door with cautious fingers, but just as he did, the door slid open. Even in the higher gravity, Simon jumped noticeably.

Two spacesuited Simiu males were standing inside. As they saw their visitors, the aliens made the customary greeting gesture the humans had come to expect. Rob, Jerry, and, finally, Simon echoed it.

"Now what?" Viorst stammered, backing away. The aliens followed him out into the tunnel, gazing up curiously at the Bio Officer. They circled him slowly, chattering to each other. One of them was carrying a satchel similar to the first one Rob had seen. Simon backed up until he bumped into the wall of the tunnel and could go no farther. His voice was edged with panic.

"Do . . . d'you think they're mad to find us here?"

"No. They're just curious, Simon. It's their first look at an unsuited human,"

Rob said, hoping fervently that the aliens would make no sudden moves.

Sweat was beading on Viorst's upper lip, running in greasy tracks down his cheeks. He walked over to stand beside the Bio Officer, signaling furtively behind his back for Jerry to stand on Simon's other side. "Okay, let's just walk back to our airlock."

The humans turned and headed for their ship, three abreast, and the Simiu followed them. When they reached the open airlock door, the first alien pointed to the interior of the chamber, then touched its own helmet. Then the creature made the interrogatory gesture.

"He wants to come into the airlock with us," Rob said.
Oh, shit, why'd they
have to pick now? I don't want to leave Simon outside with the other alien,
and I don't want the two of them in close quarters inside, either! Damn!

He glanced over at Jerry and realized that the Communications Chief fully realized his dilemma. "That's fine," Greendeer said. "You take both of them into the airlock with you, while Simon and I will wait out here. They probably just need to do some more atmosphere testing."

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"Right," Rob said gratefully. He began beckoning, and this time the aliens responded immediately to the gesture. They squatted inside the airlock, the second male gazing around curiously as Rob closed the outer door and signaled the compartment to empty and repressurize.

When the green light came on, he repeated his original motions of pointing to the indicators and announcing "Earth-normal," whereupon the first Simiu, the one carrying the bag, spoke to his comrade. The second alien put both hands to his helmet and lifted it off. The first alien watched tensely, much as Jerry and Rob had observed Simon.

Rounded nostrils within the Simiu's narrow, squarish muzzle widened noticeably as the alien drew deep breaths. After several minutes, the being stirred, then chattered emphatically at his companion.
The oxygen's thin, and
this air sure smells funny, but so far, no ill effects!
Rob mentally translated.

The unhelmeted alien turned back to the human, and, reaching into the bag, withdrew a greenish ovoid. The object had a metallic sheen and a hole at each of the narrow ends. The Simiu held the ovoid up at Rob, chattering away (the doctor could hear the alien's voice faintly through his suit helmet); then, with grave deliberation, removed the glove from his right hand. The being inserted his forefinger into one of the holes.

The alien gestured with his other hand at Rob, beckoning. The helmeted companion tapped the other opening, then, with unmistakable meaning, pointed at Rob's hand.

The doctor hesitated for a moment.
Some kind of analysis instrument. Since
the Simiu is keeping his digit in the other end, that must mean that some
comparison of our respective body chemistries will occur. Will there be
actual physical contact? Fluid exchange? What about the risk of infection?

He knew that Raoul would probably turn thumbs-down on such a risk, but ...

Now's my chance to put my credit where my mouth is.

Taking a deep breath, Rob unsealed his suit glove, then knelt down on the airlock floor and cautiously pushed his forefinger into the opening.

As he'd suspected, he felt a cold stinging sensation that meant blood was being drawn.

Symbols flickered across the surface of the ovoid. The two Simiu anxiously scanned them, then seemed to relax. They

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chattered at Rob, then both exaggeratedly nodded. The second alien ceremoniously removed his helmet.

"So your machine says we can't make each other sick," the doctor interpreted. "Wonder what my equipment would say?"

The Simiu motioned for him to withdraw his hand. There was a tiny, tingling cold patch on the ball of his finger, but not even a drop of blood marred the skin.

As the doctor curiously eyed his finger, one of the aliens reached into the satchel and withdrew a small, padded rectangular container. He handed it to Rob, then showed the doctor how a nearly invisible seam in its side split open when a small red symbol was pressed. There was a stoppered vial inside, half-full of a thick, reddish purple liquid. Rob reached in and pulled it out. The vial lay in his ungloved palm, cold.

The Simiu chattered at the doctor, pointing first at Rob's finger, then at himself. The alien pantomimed squeezing the finger and holding it over the vial.

"I've got it," Rob said, nodding. "This is a sample of your blood, so I can use it for my analysis. You guys think of everything, don't you?"

Carefully Rob returned the vial to its insulated holder. He cycled the airlock, opened it, and waved at Jerry and Simon. Then, because it seemed the right thing to do, the doctor slowly reached up and removed his own helmet. His first breath of alien air tasted like musk and cloves.

Rob's tests during the next twenty-four hours confirmed the Simiu conclusion, and the doctor informed Raoul Lamont that he now considered unsuited contact between the two peoples to be safe--at least, as safe as he could determine, barring years of tests.

The Captain shrugged. "I know. Risks come with this business."

Jerry reported that the two computer systems had completed their mapping algorithm. He, Paul, Ray, and Mahree were busy working on designing voders that would allow spoken words to be flashed onto a screen. "If we were better equipped, we could hook it all together so that you could hear a spoken translation," the communications tech said regretfully. "But, as Raoul put it, none of us knew that we'd be tapped to play Marco Polo on this trip."

"How big will the monitor be?"

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"You'll be able to hold it in your hand, or strap it on your wrist," Jerry said.

"And everyone's going to have to carry a portable computer link, so they can enable the translation program when they need it."

"You mean we'll have to actually
key
for translations?" Rob said, dismayed.

"That's pretty awkward."

"Best we can do with the equipment we've got," Jerry said, a bit defensively.

"Pisses me off, too, but we're stuck."

"Hey," Rob demurred, "don't get me wrong. You guys have done a terrific job, you real y have."

Jerry shrugged and changed the subject, mentioning that he and Mahree had made strides in deciphering several of the original transmissions
Desiree
had received. "Really? What were they?" Rob asked.

"One was a report on some kind of competition, giving scores ¦and names of individuals."

Rob grinned. "The Superbowl or the World Series, you mean?"

"Something like that. The others were apparently news reports or speeches--

can't tell the difference yet between fact and opinion."

"No holo-vid daily dramas?"

Jerry chuckled wryly. "No. And that lack probably constitutes the single best argument for Simiu superiority as a species."

It was on the morning of the sixth day after they had docked that Raoul's voice on the intercom summoned Rob from the laboratory. "They're knocking on the airlock again, Doc."

"I'll be right up."

When he reached the airlock, Rob quickly pushed his way through the crowd to reach Raoul's side. The Captain handed him one of the newly completed translating voders and computer links, then grasped the doctor's arm and drew him a few steps down the corridor so they could speak in relative privacy. "What are you going to do?" Gable asked quietly.

"I'm going to invite them in," Lamont said, sotto voce. "There's no reason not to, right?"

"Give them a tour of the ship, that kind of thing?"

"Guess so. Put that voder on, Doc. I want you and Jerry with me, since you two have a flair for this sort of thing."

"We ought to have Mahree, too. She's responsible for at least half of that translation program," Rob pointed out.

"Okay, she can wait outside the airlock, and join us when we begin the tour.

Otherwise, it'll be crowded as hell in there."

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"What about the rest of the crew?" Rob glanced around at all the eager faces--and his eyes met Yoki's. He felt a stab of guilt. He'd been so busy with all the testing that he'd barely had a chance to say hello to Yoki in passing--

much less spend any time alone with her.

As their gazes locked, she smiled and gave him a small, reassuring nod that told him she understood.

Raoul raised his voice. "Mahree and Jerry, please stay here. The rest of you, beat it. You can follow along on the viewscreen in the galley. I don't think it's wise to overwhelm these people the first time by sheer force of numbers. We can gradually allow more interaction during future visits."

A disappointed mutter arose, but Raoul's order was just common sense; nobody argued as they dispersed.

"Get yourself a linkup,
cherie,
then wait for us here," Raoul told Mahree.

"You're going to be one of the tour guides."

His niece, who had been smiling uncertainly ever since the Captain had ordered her to remain, lit up like a torch. "Oh, Uncle Raoul!" she gasped, flinging her arms around his neck and giving him several resounding kisses.

"Thank you!
Thank
you!"

Lamont was flushed with pleasure as he firmly set her back on her feet. "You should thank Doc, here," he said, a little gruffly, but his smile belied his tone.

"Rob insisted you should be included."

Mahree gave her benefactor a heartfelt smile.

The doctor shook his head in mock disappointment. "You mean I don't rate hugs and kisses? My heart is broken."

She colored violently. "I have to get my linkup," she mumbled, and, turning, raced off down the corridor.

The three men opened the airlock and went in. Rob felt oddly naked standing there without his spacesuit. He watched Jerry strap the tiny monitor to his left wrist. Feeling awkward, the doctor copied his actions, just as Raoul was doing.

"When they talk, you'll read out what they're saying on the screen, in English," Jerry told them. "If a word comes across the screen in Simiu characters, then I'll key in a request for the system to search for, and, if possible, define that word. Our system is hooked into theirs, so the more we talk to them, the better our working vocabulary is going to get."

"What do you call a working vocabulary?" Rob asked.

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Jerry grimaced. "One that allows us to communicate on a basic level. The mapping algorithm is complete, and I
think
it's going to be all right ... unless we've still got bugs in the program. I hope we're not way off-orbit."

"Let's find out," Raoul said. The Captain signaled the airlock to open. Rob saw four unsuited Simiu, three males and a female, squatting outside.

Humans and aliens made the greeting gesture formally, then the female, who wore a device on a collar around her neck, plus something that looked like a tiny greenish fan clipped to one ear, spoke.

"Greetings," Rob read on his screen. "We the"--an alien word flitted across, probably their name for their species-- "welcome you to our world. Our people gain much honor from your presence. Mutual benefit will follow from our association, is our best ..." another Simiu word followed. Jerry hastily keyed for a translation. The alien's equipment must have signaled her that a translation had been requested, because she paused and stood waiting until the word was defined, for them. "Aspiration," Rob's screen read, finally.

Jerry frowned. "I'm sorry, Captain. I know system response is slow when it's got to search for translations."

"That's okay," Raoul reassured him, then addressed the female Simiu directly. "We humans are honored to be your guests, and we also aspire for mutual benefit to our peoples."

The female Simiu nodded, seemingly pleased by the Captain's response.

She turned and spoke to her people, then all the aliens were nodding at once.

She spoke again. Rob read: "If possible for you at this"--a Simiu symbol that the doctor guessed to be a time measurement crossed the screen--"will you honor us with talking? We have much to discuss."