Kirya and Nero

Chapter 2: Instinct

    At first it was an obvious response. Hesitation. Trepidation. Terror. We had grown up in the era of the summer blockbuster, and we just knew that the aliens had come to exterminate the human race. Or perhaps they had journeyed through space to enslave us. Or to strip our atoms for fuel. It was only matter of time, we were sure, until we would be driven to extinction.
    But we did nothing. The wisest of us agreed to wait. We would be alert, yes, but patient; this was not a time to jump out with guns a-blazin'. So we waited... and the Eraknians didn't disappoint us. They met our apprehension with tolerance, our patience with kindness. These were not conquerers, or cold-blooded scientists with the dissection knives polished and waiting. These were people after our own hearts – explorers unlocking the wondrous mysteries of the universe....

-N.C. Fleming, "A Chronicle of First Contact"

Try as she might, Kirya just couldn't sleep. The computer kept insisting that it was well past midnight – and internally she knew this was true – but how could she possibly sleep now?

The ship had emerged from the Tunnel several hours ago, and it would establish orbit above the hiyuman homeworld in less than half a day. The officers and engineers would be wide awake, scurrying through the ship like ants through a nest. No system was to be left unchecked, no error left to chance. Whenever an Ambassador Ship was sent to Earth, it would arrive in flawless condition and perfect order. Even after ten years of contact between Earth and Eraknivan, impressions were everything.

And while the precise maintenance and polishing took place, the civilian passengers had a duty to keep clear.

Get some rest, the crew would say. Try to get some sleep before we land.

Kirya knew better. Despite all the politeness and formality, what was really being said was quite plain: Stay out of the way. And at this hour, the most sensible place to be was in the living quarters, attempting to rest and recharge before an eventful day.

But Kirya was definitely not tired. It was similar to the way she felt before a recital – exhilaration, anxiety, terror – only magnified to the hundredth degree.

After what felt like days of staring at the ceiling in the dark, she finally gave in and called the lights back on. Her apartment was square and relatively small, measuring a mere three meters per wall. Not enough room to comfortably hold a whole family, but plenty of space for one person, a standard sleeping platform, and a tea table. As for decoration, Kirya had put minimal effort into making the apartment "hers". Most of her possessions were tucked neatly into the ship's cargo bay, and everything else was held in long-term storage back on Ringu. She knew she would only be using the apartment for a few weeks before she had to empty it again and relocate to the Earth community. But she would not settle for absolute austerity. An ornamental dwarf onzaii tree stood stiffly at attention in one corner, and a watercolor landscape was unfurled behind the sleep platform.

Kirya rolled to her knees and hovered a finger over the swooping hills and dense forest in the artwork. She could almost picture herself dancing between the little painted trees, a tiny colorful figure twirling gracefully over the delicate lines. The painting had been a gift from her friends – a going-away present to remind her of everything she was leaving. She tried not to think about it, but the notion often came to her unwarranted: her family had abandoned everything familiar to her. Her house, her friends, her pet siko... her entire planet. And in less than a day, Kirya would be walking on alien ground, held down by an alien sky, surrounded by alien people.

Hiyumans, she thought. When the thought of moving first became real to her, Kirya spent hours researching yuma culture and physiology. They were very similar to her own species, but different enough to seem twisted and ominous. They hiyumans were also bipedal, of a comparable height, and possessing of a strangely similar body and facial structure. In fact, a single glance might have convinced Kirya that she was flying to meet her own kind. But there were still a few alien abnormalities.

The most distracting difference was that the yumas were plantigrades instead of digitigrades – they walked on flat feet like primitive apes instead of gracefully sauntering on their toes. It was obviously a species evolved for climbing instead of running. It was still fascinating to watch. Kirya often used to play videos of Earth officials walking alongside the first Eraknian emissaries. Her own people strode smoothly and swiftly through the delegation, but the hiyumans seemed to stumble along stiff-legged. They were so unlike her. So abnormal.

No, Kirya thought sharply. That's not right. She forced her mind to change course. They aren't abnormal, just dissimilar. She already knew how they were different, but how were they the same?

She hopped from the platform and retrieved her personal computer from one of the cabin's concealed lockers. She lowered herself to her knees next to the tea table, unrolled the computer, and tapped twice on the thin plastic surface. The display instantly lit up.

"Rauga?" she called softly. "Are you there?"

An image appeared at the edge of the screen – a friendly-looking cartoon bird with blue- and purple-streaked feathers. The bird ruffled its feathers, as if it had just woken up.

"Always," the computer replied. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"You're not going to lecture me, are you?"

"I really should, but I believe I know better than to lecture you, my dear girl."

Kirya smiled. It had been years since she first spoke to the computer and it was scarcely the same empty simulation that she once know. Rauga had started as an ordinary guide program – a simple accessibility feature designed to help navigate the labyrinth of the global information network. But Kirya wasn't satisfied with a mindless machine. With painstaking effort – and a little help from a tech-savvy friend – she taught it to adapt and emote. Not just to think, but to Think. The old guide program was no more. What existed now was Rauga.

"Was there actually something I could help you with?" Rauga chirped. "Or did you just miss me that much?"

"Ah, I cannot sleep for longing of my dear friend," Kirya said dramatically. "Day is as night, for night treads with daring upon the day!"

"Sounds like you're ready for another recital," the bird said with a grin.

"Hardly. The other verses aren't very polite."

Rauga laughed. Kirya was never sure if the program was genuinely responding to humor, or merely mimicking Kirya's own past responses. But if it was an imitation, it was certainly convincing.

"So," said Rauga. "Ready for the big day?"

"No. I keep going over it in my head, and part of me expects a savage planet with... poisoned air and bloodthirsty beasts."

"Even though we've been there before? It's been, what, ten years?"

Kirya shook her head, as if she could fling off the foreboding like rainwater. "I didn't say it was a rational feeling."

Rauga nodded sagely. "It is the unknown. It's natural to fear the unknown. Would it help to know that your hosts are uneasy as well?"

"The yumas? Afraid of us?"

"Of course. You're as alien to them as they are to you. Most hiyumans have only seen Eraknians in digital images. There's still a chance in their minds that first contact is nothing but a vivid dream. Why wouldn't there be some small measure of fear?"

"I guess that makes sense."

"You know about the lions living in Rhenivan, right?"

Rauga's bird form twisted and melted into the shape of a lion with an exaggerated head and cute cartoon eyes.

"Of course I do."

"You've read about them," Rauga continued. "You've seen videos of them, you grew up with funny talking pictures of them. There's no doubt in your mind that they exist?"

"No..." Kirya said, trying to beat the computer to the point.

"So imagine you were wandering the forests of Rhenivan. You suddenly hear a rustling in the bushes. Something is following you. It's getting closer and closer. It bursts through the brush and... what is it?"

"A lion, I suppose?"

"A baby deer."

"Senau liyo!"

"Excuse me? Did I say it would be a lion?"

"Well... no, but you were leading–"

"Can you deny that if you were in such a scenario, your mind would jump to the worst possibility first?"

Kirya hesitated. "Very sneaky, feather-head. But I see your point."

Rauga reformed himself into the little blue bird. "If you don't know what's coming – if you can't see the teeth or the claws – then your mind can't help but think of the most awful option. And a hiyuman mind is no different, really."

"Good to know we share the same terror," Kirya said with a frown.

"It's not all bad. I should think it reassuring that they're as afraid of you as you are of them."

"I don't want them to be afraid of me at all."

Rauga shrugged. "Well, then, just prove to them you don't have fangs and you'll be all set."

---

"... and I don't think you understand what–"

"No, you don't understand. It's too risky!"

"Don't you think it's his decision?"

Nero tried to tune out the conversation, but it was a losing battle – his heart just wasn't in it.

His tablet hung idly in his grip as he half-read a technical article on experimental Tunnel projectors. But the article was no match for the debate in the next room, between a quavering, unyielding female voice and a soothing male one.

"He's a bright boy," said the female voice. "But he doesn't understand the danger."

Nero decided he had heard enough. With a sigh, he dropped the tablet onto his bedroom desk and set a course for the living room.

"He's smart enough. And I don't see any reason to penalize him," replied the gentler male voice.

"You know what he's like! All it takes is one second of curiosity and God knows what could happen!"

"I happen to trust him completely."

"It's not about trust. He's a delicate boy who needs our–"

"You two know I can hear you, right?" said Nero loudly as he shoved the hall door open.

Nero's mother let loost a squeak of surprise. She was in her late thirties, dressed purposefully and efficiently with no hint of elaborate finery. She stared wide-eyed at Nero, trying to suppress the guilty look of someone caught red-handed. She then slipped a sideways glance to the man planted easily on the sofa, as if she was trying to prod him into taking charge.

If Nero's father was startled by the intrusion, he didn't show it. Instead he regarded Nero calmly, then pointedly met his wife's gaze.

"Nero! Sweetheart!" blurted Nero's mother. She spoke quickly and with uneasy laughter. "Didn't mean to disturb you! Your father and I were just... chatting. Nothing to worry about."

"If you're going to make decisions for me, mother," said Nero sternly, "you could at least pretend to involve me."

Mrs. Fleming opened her mouth, then seemed to decide against any further denials.

"I don't think you would understand – there's s many complicated issues here."

"Try me."

When Nero's mother hesitated, his father cut in.

"It's about school next year," he said evenly. "We might be transferring you out of Monte Vista."

"Transferred? Why? Did I do something–"

"No no, of course not!" his mother interrupted.

"It's not a punishment, Nero. It's more of a... precaution... against some of the changes to the school."

"Changes? What changes?"

Mr. Fleming's eyes widened, his unflappable facade briefly streaked with surprise.

"I thought you'd be the first to know! You're usually on top of things like this."

"I'd be interested to hear it now," said Nero, struggling to subdue the impatience in his voice.

"It's about the Eraknians."

Of course Nero knew about the Eraknians. The first and only extraterrestrial to contact Earth and humankind. As a child, Nero couldn't appreciate the sheer magnitude of such a discovery. But as the years rolled on he became admittedly more enamored by the mysterious race from the sky.

He also knew that not everyone shared his fascination.

"Let me guess," Nero said sarcastically. "They're putting up a body-snatching lab in the gym."

The Wall frowned. "This isn't funny, Nero. Don't be flippant."

"Anyway," Mr. Fleming said quickly. "You know there're a few Eraknian settlements on Earth, right?"

"Yeah," said Nero. "There's one not too far from here, up in the mountains. But that's old news. What's changing now?"

"What do you know about the settlement?"

Nero shrugged. "Less than a hundred residents, I think. The UN thought it'd be a good place for a joint research station, since we're basically living in the tech capitol of the country. There's a handful of scientists, and an official or two... nothing too bizarre. Why?"

"You're missing a few," said Mr. Fleming. "Several of the Eraknians have families. Husbands, wives, children. They mostly stick to the settlement. But the IAC higher-ups feel we should start to change that."

Mrs. Fleming snorted. Whatever the Interplanetary Affairs Council was up to, it was obvious that The Wall didn't approve.

Nero felt his brain skip forward a few tracks. "Wait – so they're moving down here?"

"Well, no," Mr. Fleming said. "Not moving, officially. It's like a foreign exchange program. Several of the Eraknian children will be... attending school."

"What?!"

"And since Monte Vista is one of the top schools in the state – and the closest to the settlement – they'll be coming here."

Nero was speechless. His fathers words were trying to break into his mind, trying to register, but it seemed too unreal. Aliens at my school, he thought frantically. Classmates from outer space? In a single instant he felt both the rush of excitement and the weight of fear. Eraknians had proven so far that they weren't dangerous. But still, Nero had never seen one in person. All he had to go on were news reports and net articles. They were still so distant to him, almost unbelievable.

And then Nero's mind hit a Wall.

"Which is why we're moving you to Eagle Heights," Mrs. Fleming said abruptly.

"You're... what?"

"We're transferring you," she repeated. "For your senior year. It's not safe."

"Not safe? How is it not safe?"

"Activists, for one thing," said Mr. Fleming. "Protesters, rioters, terrorists... The Eraknians have many opponents worldwide, and they might accidentally bring some along for the ride. Surely you remember the spaceport bombing on the news? Or the Geneva attack that was stopped in time, thank God. Who knows what could happen if the Eraknians start walking in the open?"

"And the aliens themselves could be dangerous," Nero's mother added.

"I doubt that very much," said Nero firmly. "It's been – what? – ten years since they contacted us? Five since they built their first community? Seems like a long time for a long con to... turn us into rocket fuel, or something."

"But you never know..."

"Besides," Nero interrupted. "Wouldn't it be safer for me to stay at Monte Vista? With such a high-profile program, they'll probably have to install all kinds of fancy government security to keep everything under control. The IAC would try everything in its power to keep the Eraknians from thinking we're unreliable allies, so why would they let Eraknian children waltz about unprotected?"

"It's just not a good idea, Nero, honey."

Nero's argument was rapidly taking shape in his miind, becoming solid and unavoidable. If he could just keep it moving....

"Also, Monte Vista gets a huge amount of media exposure from this, right? Exposure means attention. Attention means funding. You would move me from one of the top schools in the entire state of California just when it's about to get a huge budget increase? Better technologies, better teachers, higher profile. The best school in the state could soon become the best school in the country. In the world, even. Imagine the opportunities of attending the safest and most respected institution on the planet. Isn't it logical for me to stay? Wouldn't it be detrimental to pull me away?"

Nero prepared his finale, carefully lacing delicate layers of pleading, disappointment, and helplessness to the last sentence.

"And I thought my future mattered...."

Slowly, as if he had suffered a major defeat, he turned and shuffled back into the hallway. As he silently pulled the bedroom door shut he heard his father's voice, straining to break free from a subdued smirk:

"He'd clean up on a debate team."

Nero smiled and closed the door behind him.