With Other Eyes
by F. Alexander Brejcha
I.
Even if I couldn’t see it anymore, I could almost feel the alien space ship hanging expectantly only a few kilometers away from the Hawking space station. The Travelers, as they called themselves, had arrived four days earlier and they were waiting for me—but I wasn’t ready!
I slammed my fist against the bulkhead in frustration. “Damn it, Lazz! Why can’t I get the hang of using these damned eyes? It’s been week and I can barely tell a doorway from a wall. It only took you a couple of days.”
A shadow moved across my virtually non-existent vision and I smelled the tantalizing scent of a fresh orange as it was peeled.
“Relax, Mitch. You’ll get it in time. It was easier for me because I’ve been blind for almost twenty years. I didn’t have a lot of un-learning to do—”
“I know.” I sighed and repeated his constant litany of reassurance over the past week: “ ‘You only had your eyes removed a few weeks ago, and you’re still trying to focus and see the way you used to’. But it isn’t working!” I complained.
Lazz slapped me on the shoulder, his voice suddenly muffled. “Wait here. I can see I was right. I had a feeling this might be necessary.”
With those ominous words, I heard a hiss from the automatic door as he left the room without explaining what ‘this’ was.
He could at least have left me some of the orange.
I turned back to the training room for another vain attempt to see the objects Lazz had set up for me. My implanted eye-set was an incredible device; a four-part system actually. It consisted of a controlling computer worn on my belt, a tiny transmitter array I wore on my forehead, and twin receivers implanted in my eye sockets and cosmetically made to approximate the appearance of my own eyes, even turning as reconnected eye muscles simulated natural eye movements. The system used some alien forms of sonar and light receptors to give an approximation of the way the aliens’ vision worked. It was a different version of something Lazz had already been developing as an alternative sight-system for himself and other blind individuals unable to tolerate eye transplants. The aliens had provided input to modify Lazz’s design to meet their criteria.
But it had proved a lot harder to use than I had expected and I was still almost totally blind—and I was supposed to be able to see with this system when I went onboard the alien ship to make personal contact. The Travelers had insisted on it for some reason. Lazz couldn’t go because I was the one who had decoded the Traveler signals and made first contact, and the aliens only wanted to deal with me. So I could be a “witness” to something. They had continually refused to answer any questions other than technical ones associated with setting up the meeting. They had said that everything would be explained to me and on my return, I could pass on all my knowledge.
But if I was going to witness anything, I would have to learn to use my new eyes!
The sound of the door interrupted my useless efforts and I heard Lazz come in. And he wasn’t alone, I realized as I smelled a delicate floral perfume.
“All right, buddy, I’m tuned in to your frequency again and seeing with your eyes. Now, one more time, focus, this way!”
I sighed and concentrated. Still, there was nothing there… no, I could just sense a teasingly vague outline that shifted in and out of focus. I tilted my head, fighting to keep the image clear. The perfume was familiar and I wanted to know if I was right.
“Good! You’re starting to get it,” Lazz encouraged. “Now relax and… imagine you’re a little drunk and looking at something… There, keep that up and you’ll get more detail.”
Suddenly the outlines sharpened and I saw an incredibly detailed topographical image of…
“Whoa, Lazz! Who is that!”
“Janice Wills. Shame on you for not recognizing one of your co-workers.”
“But she’s naked!”
“No,” Lazz chuckled. “She’s wearing a bikini, or so she said.” He suddenly sounded doubtful. “Wait a minute, let me break our link and look for myself. After a moment, he spoke up again. “Yup. It must have been designed by Drexler’s of Hollywood, but it’s there. I thought a little positive reinforcement might help you since Janice was kind enough to offer her—”
“I know what it looks like she’s offering.” I felt my face burn and I was afraid to look closer. “But this from a woman who turned me down when I asked for a date?” And that had taken one hell of an effort. At forty, and widowed only three years earlier after twelve years of marriage, I had been sorely out of practice and feeling guilty over the way I had been attracted to Janice.
“Gee, I just love to be discussed in the third person,” Janice muttered darkly. “And I’m still ‘involved’ with someone. But our beloved leader has quite a talent for blackmail—”
“I prefer to think of it as creative persuasion,” Lazz cut in.
“Blackmail,” Janice repeated firmly. Then she turned back to me.
“Besides, he can make himself look even more pitiful than you. He’s been pestering me non-stop ever since he thought of this idea and I finally gave in since we’ve removed the last of the hidden media Mini-Casters.” She moved closer, and I felt a light touch on my arm. “But, we really work well together and I just hated seeing you so down in the dumps.” She kissed me lightly on the cheek. “You’re on your own now, Mitch. Good luck.” Then she spun away to pick up a robe she had draped over a chair.
I struggled to keep her in focus as she slipped it on, and then waved and slipped out the door. Then Lazz grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the exercise table.
“Okay, buddy. Now that I finally have your attention, let’s try this again!”
I struggled to focus on the various cones, cubes and pyramids he had put out for me and began describing them. I had not realized how much detail my new ‘eyes’ could yield until now, but as I worked, I started to get the feel for using them and I marvelled at the dizzying depth they gave the room. I had a feeling that with practice I would be able to judge distances with millimetric precision. But Lazz had been right: the eyes did require using a whole different set of muscles.
I was just getting into it when the overhead speaker buzzed and Commander Elizabeth Josarro’s voice called down.
“Mitch, we’ve got a problem—”
“The Travelers are insisting I come over now,” I guessed, interrupting her.
“How the hell did you know?”
“It makes sense.” I fought a sudden queasiness. “They were insistent on no official presence at our meeting, and since they’re probably monitoring me the same way Lazz is they know I’m getting the hang of my eyes. And they know no one from the U.N. is on the station at the moment.”
“True… no one expected you to have a break-through so soon.”
I grinned. “Blame it on your husband. He’s a good teacher.”
“How did he… Never mind.” She sighed. “I can only imagine. But it puts us in a bind because the Travelers want you over there NOW!”
I could only imagine the frantic scrambling going on in Geneva, Houston, and the Cape—and at the eavesdropping Global News headquarters. The U.N. people and the media had been totally rebuffed by the Travelers, and had been asked to leave the station so I could concentrate on learning to use my new eyes. We had thought I would be ready by the time the aliens arrived, but fine-tuning the combination of alien and human design had taken longer than expected, and then I had proved less than adept in learning how to use them. And now, the U.N. observers who had been planning to sneak back up when I went onboard the alien ship were stuck down on Earth until Friday’s SSTO launch, or until a shuttle could be prepped.