Through Alien Eyes
by Amy Thomson
For Rosalie the Wonder Cat
Literary mews, par excellence 1979–1998
Acknowledgments
Although writing is a solitary endeavor, every writer has a support network that makes writing possible. My support network includes:
My husband, Edd Vick, who listened patiently to loony ideas, middle-of-the-night ramblings, and general maun-derings-on concerning the book. He also slid sandwiches under the door when I forgot to eat, proofread manuscripts on short notice, and did far more than his fair share of the housework during the final slog through the manuscript.
My second readers:
Hugh Daniel, John Hecht, Ctein, Kim and Hank Graham, Rich Dutcher, Terry Garey, Laurie Edison, and Loren MacGregor. Their insight and feedback greatly improved the book.
And friends like:
Greg Bear, for thoughts on structure that helped me get where I needed to go.
T’om Seaman, who helped me understand some of the lessons Ukatonen needed to learn.
Anetta and Pekka Pirinen for help with the Finnish. Any mistakes are my fault, not theirs.
Steve Gallacci for help with terminology.
Howard Waldrop, for help with the solitaires and their kin. If you haven’t read his excellent story, “The Ugly Chickens,” you’re missing a treat.
The members of the Feminist Cabal, for support, guidance, and their great sense of humor!
Don Maass, literary agent extraordinaire.
And to Ginjer Buchanan for editorial patience above and beyond the call of duty.
I also got help from the following people, who took the time to answer weird questions posed by a total stranger:
Skip Briggs of Weapons Safety, Inc., who answered some very unsettling questions about guns without batting an eyelash!
And to the personable and friendly staff of Turnbull Wine Cellars, Dutch Henry Winery, and Robert Mondavi Winery, who provided me with vital information about viticulture and oenology, and allowed me to sample some excellent wines! (Research can be hell!)
One
Ukatonen looked out the window at his home world of Tiangi. It had grown steadily smaller as the humans’ sky raft sped through the starry, endless night. All the trees he had climbed, all the creatures he had ever hunted, all the rivers he had swum in, were now contained in a cloud-swathed blue crescent he could cover with his outstretched hand. It made him feel very small and alone.
Mold’s arm slid around his waist. Ukatonen looked down at the youngster, his skin brightening to pale blue with gladness. He was only a bami, and a young one at that, but Moki was Ukatonen’s last link with his home world. Moki had been adopted by the human Eerin after she saved his life. Ukatonen had made a formal judgment that Eerin could adopt the tinka, brushing aside the objections of the elders of the village she was living in. The adoption had worked out well; they had become exceptionally close.
When Eerin’s people came to take her back to her home world, Moki made it clear that he would either go with her or die. So Ukatonen had rendered a judgment that he and Moki would return to Earth with Eerin. Since his life was forfeit if his judgment was wrong, the humans were forced to take the two of them, or have the death of an enkar on their consciences.
Now, looking at his world dwindling behind them, Uka-tonen wondered if he had done the right thing. The ship, and these humans, were stranger than he had imagined. Everything was bright, and smooth, and bare. The air was dry and the ship was cold and very small. There was a constant vibration underfoot and in his ears that masked the small sounds he was used to. The people were either too friendly or seemed frightened of him. He longed for the shady, concealing jungle of home, with its familiar smell of wet and rotting vegetation, and the distant sweet scent of flowers. The ship reeked of humans, and under that the dry smell of metal, the waxy scent of plastic, and the sharp pungency of the substances used to clean the ship. He was finding it very hard not to show how uneasy the sterile environment of the ship made him feel.
Perhaps it would have been better for him to seek an honorable death. But his people needed to know more about these humans, and it was his duty as an enkar to learn everything he could.
Ukatonen looked up and saw Eerin watching him. Was that a look of concern on her face? Even after four years of observing her, he had trouble deciphering her alien features. It was even harder now that Eerin was among her own people. She seemed like a stranger, her body concealed by clothes, her skin the color of embarrassment, speaking the humans’ noisy sound speech. Even her name was different. The humans called her Juna, or Dr. Saari.
Eerin came over to them and put her arm’ around Moki’s shoulders. The bami looked up at her, his skin flaring blue with happiness at her touch.
“Are you all right?” Eerin asked.
Ukatonen’s ears twitched at the sound of her words. Human sound speech sounded like frogs in heat. It amazed him that intelligent creatures actually communicated like that. If only Eerin could still speak properly.
“Tiangi looks so small from here.” He spoke in the humans’ skin speech, which they called “writing.” The human words appearing on his chest were dark grey with sadness.
Eerin nodded. “Do you miss it much?”
“Everything’s so strange here. So bright and dry and empty.” He shook his head. “I’ll get used to it,” he reassured her. He would have to. The journey from Tiangi to the humans’ planet, Earth, would take more than four months.
A trickle of grey anguish slid down his back. Four months in this barren, lifeless place! There were a few small trees and shrubs, planted in what the humans called a garden, but none of them were big enough to climb in, and only a few provided adequate cover. Well, Eerin had told him that it was going to be difficult. He would find a way to adapt. He had to. He was an enkar, and this was his duty. It was the only honorable thing to do.
Moki watched Ukatonen leave the gathering. He was worried about the enkar. Despite his brave talk, the enkar was finding it difficult to adapt. It was hard for Moki too; the ship was uncomfortably dry, cold, and cramped. But as long as his sitik was with him, even a place as strange as this could be home.
Because of their special status, enkar were expected to avoid close ties with others. Here on the humans’ sky raft, only Eerin understood that. The other humans approached Ukatonen with an eager friendliness that stripped the enkar of the dignity and honor of his lonely status.
Moki looked up at Tiangi, dwindling on the screen. Soon, Eerin told him, the world he was born on would be just another spot of light like all the other stars in the sky. He found the idea frightening, but also strangely exciting. No other Tendu had ever gone this far. He and Ukatonen would be the first to see another world.
But right now Ukatonen needed the comforting presence of another Tendu, though his dignity would never allow him to admit it. Eerin, busy talking to one of the other humans, didn’t even look up as Moki slipped away to find the enkar.
Juna stood watching the sparse crowd of people at the reception. The Homa Darabi Maru was running with a skeleton crew. Everyone else had been left behind on Tiangi. “Dr. Saari?” It was Commander Sussman, captain of the ship.
“Yes, Commander?”
“I was hoping to have a chance to get to know the Tendu. I’ve been so busy getting the ship underway that I haven’t had the chance to talk to them.”
Juna glanced around the room, looking for the small, long-limbed Tendu. They had slipped away again. Ukato-nen had probably gone off somewhere to brood, and Moki, concerned about the enkar, had followed him.