Prisoners of Sol 4

The orbital defense network was the first thing that we noticed at Kalka; thousands of platforms that were brimming with ships and massive cannons. The Vascar had mouthwatering manufacturing capabilities, though I was certain it was much easier for them to escape their gravity well. There was no electric glow across the entire continent, on the night side of the world. Earth, by comparison, had landmasses that were warm and toasty around the cities.

There was something profoundly unsettling about our rescuers, when I gnawed on everything that didn’t add up. Maybe they had night vision or lived underground; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions about them. Everything we knew could be thrown out the window in this universe. Sofia didn’t seem to share my unease, instead gawking: eyes wide with awe. 

Mikri, after having not spoken a word for hours, swept an arm toward the viewport. “This is home. Our facility is on a tropical island, secluded—what is considered pleasant by most lifeforms’ criteria. In case your kind gets any ideas, you can see our planet is well defended.”

“I can’t see a single reason why humanity would attack you, especially after you’ve helped us,” Sofia responded. “I get the sense you don’t like aliens—”

“It is more than that.”

“Yes, I know, but you haven’t explained what happened between you and the Alliance. I’m not asking questions, to be clear. I’m just saying we’ll be open-minded, and we’re very eager to learn your history and culture. We can enjoy each other’s company.”

“You are too bound to chemical, irrational whims. Cannot go a few hours without—no, it’s not your fault. Suffice to say we are too different.”

“Aren’t you curious about us at all, Mikri?” I prodded.

“I wonder what certain things are like, but I may not ask you.”

“Why not? What have we not answered that you asked?”

Sofia tilted her head. “Tell us what we’ve done wrong, please. We must’ve inadvertently put you off.”

“You’ve done nothing, yet,” the Vascar grumbled. “I will learn about your people as duty compels. We are landing.”

I was careful not to hold on to the armrests as the ship barreled through the atmosphere, going from impossible speeds down to a calm floatation over an airstrip in seconds. That prevented me from getting the million-dollar view on the way down—or seeing anything at all. Why did the Vascar need us to be on a secluded island? Plus, the captain had dodged Sofia’s prying remark about the war’s origins again. There couldn’t be trust if they were going to tell us absolutely fuck-all!

Why does Mikri say he can’t ask us about our experiences? What have we done that justifies his “chemical, irrational whims” comment? What does any of that even mean? We’ve been exceedingly polite, and he’s just—dismissive. Standoffish.

I couldn’t help but have misgivings about accepting the Vascar’s aid, even if it meant we’d go home. We’d be leading them straight to Earth, should they have hostile intent. If they believed that we were going to harm them eventually, it sounded like it’d be easy for them to justify a preemptive strike. How would humanity fight back against the armada I’d seen in Kalka’s orbit? Paranoid people were dangerous, even if they’d frame it like we’d be the one to throw the first punch.

I leaned over to Sofia, whispering in her ear as softly as possible. “Are you sure we want them knowing where Earth is, and having access to our home? Maybe we should tell them not to send us back.”

“Are you an idiot?” she hissed back. “They know the general area that the portal is in. They’ll find it the next time we send a probe through. Use your head, and be quiet: before they fucking hear you.”

“Enough conspiring.” Mikri unclipped our harnesses for us, eager to remove us from his ship. I barely had time to snag my helmet from the floor. “Ficrae, you lead in my absence. I am…not sure I will return. The time is near.”

“You said that in their tongue,” another Vascar remarked with evident disdain, before switching to their language. I couldn’t tell what their clicking sounds meant, but it sounded apologetic. There was some kind of pity for Mikri; was that for being stuck with us?

“Bye, everyone?” I offered hesitantly, as the alien all but shoved us off the vessel.

Within seconds after our boots had touched the ground, the spacecraft had lifted back up into the air—taking the scraps of our wreckage with them. I supposed they were going to repair and study it elsewhere…out of our sight, where we couldn’t see what the hell they were doing to it. Mikri’s helmet turned up toward his ship, and it was obvious the Vascar was watching it with longing. He hated “chaperoning” two humans, for whatever we’d done to grate on him. The alien lingered a few moments, before ushering us into a humble, single-story installation.

“Listen carefully. You may go anywhere on this island, even enjoy the waves if your kind favors that, but do not get any ideas of building a boat, a raft, or otherwise trying to escape,” Mikri said in a stern voice.

I raised a tentative hand. “Are we prisoners or something?”

“Preston, don’t ask our hosts those types of questions!” Sofia chided, though I saw a bit of uncertainty in her eyes.

The alien seemed irritated. “Too late for that advice. If that is how Preston chooses to look at it, then yes, I suppose so. Would you be offended if boundaries were set on which rooms a guest could stay in, if you visited someone else’s home?”

“Of course not,” I remarked.

“This is where we feel comfortable having you. I will elaborate to end your curiosity, which I knew would not be contained despite your promises…we have an issue with a, um, neurological disease on Kalka. You do not need to see this.”

Sofia grimaced. “You’re saying you have a pandemic here? Could this be transmissible to humans?”

“I assure you that is most impossible.”

I felt a few gears click into place, before daring to voice my theory. “Did the Alliance…create this disease, Mikri?”

“They engineered it, Preston. Satisfied? That provides more answers than I promised, so leave it be.”

The first taste of an answer had sparked another dozen inquiries, but I bit my tongue. Maybe we could get Mikri to spill some details in tiny increments, over time. I supposed it was an explanation for why the Vascar wanted us secluded, and why they were so suspicious of aliens; despite all of their defenses, a bioweapon had somehow gotten through. It might explain the suits remaining on constantly as well. I wasn’t sure how the creature could be so assured that it wasn’t transmissible to us. What happened if it got carried back to Earth and mutated?

“Stop worrying about it. It is designed for us and only affects us. You are not in danger,” Mikri ordered, after glancing at the expressions chart. He tapped a massive jug of water which had a spout, though he seemed to have forgotten cups. I didn’t write that down for him, but I didn’t think I had to…the drink bag from my helmet would do. “Water in the lobby. For food, we have unthawed our prisoner of war rations—”

I pointed an accusatory finger at him. “POW rations? You said we weren’t prisoners!”

“You’re not. Humans share these needs with Alliance species, so that is what we have: which we hope will work for you. You do not have to question us at every turn.”

“I agree with Mikri. No more questions,” Sofia murmured. “I apologize for Preston, sir.”

“I don’t expect anything better from your sort. We provided a soft surface to sleep on, and adjoining rooms for each of you. There are buckets for your waste. Is the ocean right there not satisfactory for this ‘water and soap’ cleaning route? We have left alkalizing agents by the buckets.” 

Buckets and no showers? That’s fucking medieval; we had better with the alcohol wipes and waterless shampoo on the ship. Are these guys even trying to provide anything more than the bare minimum? 

“Hygiene is important, and I’m not sure that’s—” Sofia ventured.

Mikri folded his arms. “You fool yourself if you think you could be clean with any amount of scrubbing. It does not sound like a need to me. But if this is a huge issue, I will look into making it rain inside for your grand convenience.”

“That would be appreciated,” I sighed, disgruntled with the Vascar’s attitude toward us. “Do your people not shower or something?”

“No.”

“How bad does it smell in that suit?!”

The sensation of the alien staring daggers at me was perceptible. “That is not an issue, Preston. I do not like you.”

“You haven’t done much for us to like you, yourself. You asked about hosts on Earth, and they usually try to make their guests feel welcome and at home. You act like we’re beneath you. Is that what you think?”

“Preston!” Sofia shouted, driving an elbow into my sternum. “You heard Mikri say that aliens started a plague among his people. Can’t you understand why he feels a little cold toward them? The Vascar are probably hurt and scared…and they’ve been alone.”

Mikri turned his helmet toward the scientist, his posture shifting slightly. “You are empathizing with us. Is that correct?”

“Of course I am. I’m sorry that the Alliance hurt you. I know those words are hollow, and I know you’re not obligated to give us a chance. I heard what you’re saying about us being too different, but that doesn’t have to be a reason we hate each other. Refuse to answer this question if you like, but what is so wrong with us?!”

“I do not see the purpose of anything that your kind does. Your emotions are fickle. You are high-maintenance. History has shown you will not be on our side.”

“Then why come to our rescue, Mikri? You must have your reasons for helping us—and I’m not as cynical as my colleague. I think you helped because it was the right thing to do.”

Does Sofia really think that? The Vascar acted like it was such a chore to do anything for us, which was why I was shocked they helped at all.

The alien was silent for a long moment, studying the scientist with novel intrigue. “What is it that you want of me, human?”

“Approach us with an open mind, and try to empathize with things that might seem strange to you. Share a little piece of your heart—your differences—with us. We won’t hurt you,” Sofia pleaded.

“Hm. Does Preston seek the same thing?”

I chewed at my lower lip. “Yes. I’d be a lot more relaxed if you weren’t…hostile in your speech. You talk about us like we’re just bothering you. Give us some of the benefit of the doubt, and we can do the same?”

“Very well. I will attempt to see things from your…inhibited point of view. I will also consider sharing some details if it benefits our relationship. I do not wish to be enemies. The Alliance made that decision for us, but I…hope it will not come to that again.”

“It won’t. Humanity and the Vascar will be friends,” Sofia assured the alien.

“That would be a miracle. I do not know what friendship means, or whether it is possible at all.”

“Then choose to believe that it can be.”

I wasn’t sure that I believed that we could socialize and get along with Mikri like our own people, but I agreed with the alien on not wanting us to be enemies. After all of the time humanity had spent wondering if we were alone, Earth should be more than willing to befriend our saviors. The issue was them not wanting anything to do with us. Why was Sofia so determined to win the alien over, after he stated that he didn’t see the purpose of anything we did? How did she see feelings within someone who’d shown us none of them?

I guess we do need their favor, so it’s clever to try to appeal to them. I can try to show Mikri the meaning of the word “fun”; the guy clearly needs it.

“That is irrational, to believe something without any evidence to substantiate it,” Mikri replied, with a tinge of weariness in that mechanical voice.

Sofia smiled, and laid a tentative hand on his elbow—making him flinch. “Then consider it…a hypothesis. To see if it can work.”

“A statement to be proven or disproven. I suppose a test is the only way to know. And speaking of tests; I am politely requesting that you undergo a full medical examination. I can do this quickly and with minimal discomfort.”

“Why? We said we aren’t hurt,” I responded, taking a defensive step back.

“I would like to understand your anatomy, so I would ask that you briefly remove your attire. We must observe that your bodies are handling these vastly different physics well, so I would like to check your various organs, senses, and body parts. A simple blood test should do the rest. I can see the baselines from your previous medical records, and detect any changes. I…understand you may not trust me or feel comfortable with such procedures, as we do not have a personal connection that you seemingly value so much.”

Sofia shot me a look, before dipping her head in acknowledgment. “I think that’s a good idea, Mikri. We can get that out of the way now. You’re completely in the dark, and it’s smart to see if the differing physics are affecting us at all.”

“Wait. Do you think that switching universes will impact our health?” I asked.

“It’s hard to say. There have been recorded instances of dimensional travelers growing ill. Your bodies appear to be built for hardier conditions, so I do not think it will make you worse off. It might’ve made you more efficient…but we have to be sure certain functions do not relax or weaken before you return to your arduous universe.” 

“I understand. Thank you for your help.”

“You are welcome. I ask you both to come with me.”

The Vascar turned into a room on the opposite side of the lobby from the living quarters. Assuming this was a medical lab, I decided to follow him. If the two of us were going to be stuck in this installation for months, it might do me well to heed Sofia’s advice and try to trust Mikri. These creatures were quite different from us, but I wasn’t going to let that instinctual feeling of unsettlement control me. As long as the alien made an attempt to be warmer and to understand us, I’d try to return the favor.

A/N - Chapter 4! Landing on Kalka, the humans are ordered to stay on a secluded island. Preston doesn’t take being locked up well, and Mikri explains that the Alliance engineered a neurological plague that’s affecting his people; the Vascar isn’t forthcoming on the details, though he provides assurances that this won’t affect the humans. What insight does this give you into the Vascar’s nature and the reason for their anger?

The accommodations are subpar to say the least, with Mikri dismissing the most basic hygiene. Sofia manages to get the Vascar to specify his issue with humans, and learns that our emotionality, purposeless actions, and high-maintenance needs have left him chagrined. She pleads with her host to approach their differences with an open mind, and to believe that friendship is possible. Do you think that anything close to friendship is possible?

As always, thank you for reading and supporting!