Astronomical Odds

The specimen named Barry Leuvaarden has been in a drug-induced fog for three days. His recollection of the process by which he arrived here will be fuzzy; he will remember going to dinner with some friends and then a sudden drowsiness. If he is particularly observant, he may have noticed his friends falling asleep in the middle of the main course; all he knows is he is no longer home. Once in a while a box appears from somewhere with a terrific crashing sound, containing food that is bland but edible, but this will change in order to make him more pliable once his faculties have returned. There is a tree that oozes water from its leaves; he has already discovered that if you pluck the leaf, a small stream pours fresh water for a short time.

The subject may suspect he is the victim of a simple extraterrestrial invasion, but his new visitor will begin to change his perception. Her garb will be strange - some kind of uniform unknown to him. Before long, he will notice subtle hints that she is not human. This first test will determine if their species are diplomatically compatible, and whether a catastrophic union of the worlds can be prevented by inducing a violent incident between the two first of their kinds to meet.

--Diary of Jaahk, Assistant Administrator of galaxy 405598735, Western Spiral Arm

Shortly after Barry summoned his courage to approach, she woke up, and would not let him get close. She was injured, he was certain; her clothing was in tatters, and there was a stain that could only be blood on her uniform blouse. She would not let him help her, instead scrambling with all speed as far away as possible, no matter how much he pleaded. She didn't understand his words, and chattered briefly in a language he couldn't understand before falling completely silent. Terror gripped her, and she kept staring at the planet hanging outside the glass orb they now both inhabited. Her homeworld, he knew; even if the star looked warm and familiar, the continents did not match his own which he had briefly seen receding into the distance shortly after awakening in the orb for the first time; he saw a very familiar distress on her face as some kind of space battle played itself out, never approaching any sort of rescue possibility. Finally, the invaders retreated and the planet quickly vanished, taking all of her spirit with it.

She must think me one of her captors, he thought. Surely the logical accommodations for prisoners would be to keep them separate from each other, particularly those that would have a common enemy. But he had been here longer, and knew without a doubt that this is exactly what had happened. Perhaps they were counting on the language barrier to prevent them working together; a rather effective measure, he had to admit. Then again, it seemed that as advanced as this ship was, no real measures would need to be taken; they were effectively helpless no matter how well they collaborated. If they managed to escape somehow, there was only empty space for miles in any direction.

A voice rumbled through the orb, speaking in two languages simultaneously: his own, and his cell-mate's as well, with the same message.

THIS CREATURE IS YOUR ENEMY. ITS ARMY HAS THREATENED YOUR WORLD AND YOUR LIFE. DO NOT TRUST IT OR ATTEMPT TO FORM AN ALLIANCE. IT WILL BETRAY YOU TO YOUR DEATH.

He frowned, and saw a look of confusion on her face. Had the message been true, there would have been no need to translate it for her benefit; she already suspected his involvement and needed no prompting to distrust him. Such a blatant and heavy handed attempt to keep them separate, however, made the story rather suspect.

He made a point of turning away from her and sitting where he could watch her with obvious suspicion. This was the place where the food box most often appeared. If he wanted to make sure she didn't steal or poison his food, this was the place to be. Her gaze searched him, questioning, but she would get no answers today.

A pop sounded from the far side of the orb, and he got up to rush over to the newly appeared box. Cautiously, the alien woman followed. The box had a word in a language he didn't know; probably hers, he knew, and inside were what appeared to be medical supplies and clothing. He made a show of ransacking the box and throwing clothes everywhere, but carefully made sure the dressings were intact and did not damage the antiseptic cream packs.

Once done, he stormed back over to the pile of empty food boxes to watch and wait. She picked through the remains of the supplies, stopping several times to stare at him as she used the medical supplies which had been scattered but were undamaged. She collected the clothing and changed out of her disheveled mess as well, carefully maintaining her modesty as well as the injury -an ugly-looking burn, he could now make out- to her torso allowed.

In his speech, an announcement said:

YOU ARE RIGHT TO BE ANGRY. THIS CREATURE INVADED YOUR HOME AND HAS KILLED SEVERAL OF YOUR KIND. WE ARE ONLY KEEPING IT ALIVE SO THAT IT CAN FACE THE JUSTICE OF YOUR PEOPLE. IF YOU CHOOSE TO TAKE THIS MATTER INTO YOUR OWN HANDS, WE WILL HONOR YOUR RIGHT FOR VENGEANCE.

A moment later, the voice rang out in the other alien's language, a delicate, poetic-sounding monologue made more threatening by its use of tone and the divisive rhetoric being employed. The words made her eyes narrow, but then the corner of her mouth quirked upwards, as if in some subtle joke. Aside from grief, her face was a mask of suspicion that betrayed little else. Even her pain was carefully hidden, even if the shock of it turned her face white every time she changed the bandage.

Days passed in this uneasy standoff. Food boxes appeared regularly, which he usually reached first and tore into greedily, though he left enough to see what she would eat and what she left behind. The parts they both ate, he would make a show of taking, but left some tucked away in the corner under some packaging. The parts neither liked, he threw on the ground and stomped, as if some kind of retaliation, or crumbled theatrically between his fingers to fall into the dirt, or broke apart and threw in her general direction. The parts only she ate he would throw carelessly out of the box, but leave the packaging intact such that several of them remained safely edible. She was apparently vegetarian; the dried sausage-like sticks she would not touch, and he ate them all.

For her part, she also played up her disgust at the mess he made and the process of digging through torn packages to see if anything she could eat was left. There was always enough to sustain her, but she did her best to appear slighted. Her venomous glare had some undertone of amusement as she found the hidden parts of their favorite food tucked away under a ruined pack of the least favorite (some kind of gritty uncooked-rice-like powder) which she then would hide in her clothing somewhere and sneak away to eat while he wasn't looking. He was never able to catch her doing it, but she knew what he left behind, and it would go missing later only to have the empty package show up in the pile of refuse which disappeared in the night.

A few days later she grew bolder, approaching the food box while he was still rummaging, and prevented him from hoarding all of the food he liked least but found edible. He caught a sly grin on her face as she bit into the wafers she had taken, while leaving the far more delicious chips that reminded both of fruits they knew, and they both ate as much of as they could. This was a message to him, perhaps. I know what you're doing and I approve, it said.

Next meal came, and his sense of chivalry kicked in. She was hurt, and needed as much of the better food as she could get. They might need her strength before long, and so when she came over to steal the wafers again, he turned and confronted her.

"Mine!" he said.

The set of her jaw was defiant. She reached for them again, trying to get around him. He grabbed her wrist and gently pushed her back.

"No. Mine."

She folded her arms stubbornly, waiting for him to turn his back again, then reached again when he did. With one hand, he grabbed her wrist again, and with the other stabbed at her wound right next to the bandage, in the one relatively healthy spot that wouldn't hurt much. A warning: You need to heal. Baring his teeth at her, he threw the fruit chips at her feet and took all the wafers for himself again. When he couldn't eat any more of them, he made a show of destroying the rest. Another message: No garbage for you.

She quietly took the fruit chips and ate with a sad and withdrawn look on her face.

Next meal started much the same: she attempted to take some of the white wafers, which he then snatched and refused to hand over. She reached for them again, managing to knock some onto the ground. As they both reached for them, their foreheads touched, sending a shock through both of them with an unexpected sensation: reading each other's thoughts. His own intention to keep her healthy echoed strangely, at the same time as the foreign thought that she couldn't let him eat all the bad food himself, and if it was all that they had then she needed to share in the misery, even though he was supposed to be her enemy.

They both pulled back, stunned, and stared into each other's eyes as they reached for the fallen wafers again. Their heads touched.

> Can you read my mind? < he thought.

+ You aren't the one that attacked my world +

> No, I was taken from my home as well <

A flood of thoughts and images passed between them in an instant. They pulled apart, reeling from the exchange.

"Riöna," she said.

"Barry," I said.

"...Bårre," she said, pointing at me.

"Riona," I said, gesturing to her with my hand.

She nodded, then he did the same, and both smiled awkwardly at the bad pronunciations. Her eyes narrowed when he frowned. His eyes looked left, around, subtly indicating the glass orb around them, and the aliens who were their captors. He crouched, as if guarding the fallen wafers. Taking the hint, Riöna reached for them again, giving an excuse for their heads to touch again, and he clasped onto her for a long minute, pretending to struggle.

+ We are not enemies, are we? +

> I want us to be friends <

+ We must escape from here +

> They have technology beyond anything I've ever seen <

+ We can defeat them +

> How? <

+ I have a device. It is dangerous for two but- +

> Why haven't you used it yet? <

+ I need your help. It needs a battery +

> What do I need to do? <

+ There is a flying device. We need to open it and remove the power cell. It comes during sleep cycle and removes the remaining food and waste. It should have the power we need. I cannot climb with this injury, you will have to find a way to bring it down. I am not familiar with the design. I hope you will know what to do when you see it +

> I will see what I can do <

+ Good luck +

> How do I know I can believe any of this? Speaking this way should not be possible <

+ The speaking of minds is rare but not unknown to my people. In fact I am not known to be one of the few who can do it. I may need to be tested again +

> Do you think your people and mine can all do it with each other? <

+ That is a fascinating thought! If only our peoples were closer together. Can you describe your world's location in the galaxy? +

> There are some of my people who can, but I am not one of them. I was never good at the study of stars <

+ That is a shame. If we can return to my world we might learn where your people are. But you may never see home again +

> I gave up on that when we saw your world vanish in the distance- <

She jerked away suddenly, pulling her hand to her mouth as if scorched. Tears fell from her eyes and her breath caught just shy of a sob. Distressed by her pain, he gathered some wafers and smashed the rest, leaving her all of the fruit chips. He could see in her face that she knew he could not reach out to comfort her. Their captors would not approve - and then what would happen? Their very lives were at the whim of the others.

That night, he climbed a tree near the food box. He watched the garbage collector fly in, a triagular boxy machine powered by some hybrid jet-fan engine which was somehow quiet as a whisper except at very specific angles. The intake was in the middle, and directional jets angled to keep the drone moving at the corners. Small scoops collected the refuse, including smashed wafers mixed with dirt, and deposited it in the food box which it then loaded into its central storage chamber. Heavier now, it lifted off and rose to an opening far above him where it vanished. An idea began to take shape.

For the next several days, Barry collected uneaten wafers. Then, smashing them up and mixing them with dirt, he used the food box to hold the mixture and filled it with water from the water tree. The food box was now several times its normal full weight; he struggled to return it to its original location, much to Riöna's amusement. He spent much of the rest of the day sawing through a tree branch with a shoelace by wrapping it around the branch and pulling it quickly to use friction to wear away the wood. His arms were tired, but the work was successful; a sturdy piece of wood as big as his arm was now at his disposal. He picked the leaves free and carried the crude stave up into the tree which he had moved the food box within leaping distance of. Now, to wait.

The captor's voice demanded:

WHY HAVE YOU DAMAGED THE TREE?

"I need a weapon to beat her to death with. Tomorrow, after I've rested, I will do it. I will have my revenge!" he said.

VERY WELL. YOU MAY PROCEED.

Night came. The milky glow from the glass orb subsided, and the collector drone finally arrived, moving surprisingly silently once again; he almost missed it as he had every night previously. The whine of the engine as it strained under the additional weight of the overburdened food box caught his attention, and he jumped, stabbing into the fan-powered intake on top of the machine. The blades were powerful, and shredded the branch most of the way, but finally ground to a stop just a foot from where his hand held it. The drone sputtered and fell to the ground. He kicked open the flimsy rear panel where the circuits had to be; sure enough a substantial part that closely resembled a battery was there, and he tore it loose just as the fan kicked the branch free from the intake and the drone started up again; the whole unit died noisily. He left the battery nearby and went to sleep.

WHY HAVE YOU DAMAGED THE FACILITIES? SURELY YOU KNOW THAT THIS MACHINE IS DESIGNED TO KEEP YOUR LIVING AREA CLEAN.

"I'm going to eat her and put her bones in there, so you can honor my vengeance! I will put the battery back in once I do so, so that it can start working when I am done."

DO NOT DELAY. THE FILTH WILL ACCUMULATE QUICKLY.

He sat and waited for the new food box, ignoring Riöna. However, before too much time had passed, a warning tone sounded.

UNAUTHORIZED EQUIPMENT DETECTED. DESTROY IT OR YOU WILL BE TERMINATED IMMEDIATELY WITH OVERWHELMING FORCE.

He turned to look; Riöna had some small pocketable device connected to the battery he had discarded. More drones flew in, this time armed with some fairly menacing attachments that could be nothing other than weapons. Acting quickly, he ran over and tackled Riöna, tore the battery away from the device, and threw both parts into the disabled drone. The weaponized drones did not descend to tree level but instead barraged the ground where they had been, and even the disabled drone itself, with small needles that looked quite painful. They glowed very hot for a short time and then subsided into a smoky, blackened mess. The disabled drone looked like a charred, fuzzy marshmallow.

"I can't be responsible for the damage this time! I only took the battery out!" he yelled up towards their captors.

There was a delay before the response.

DAMAGE IS SUPERFICIAL ONLY. YOUR CONCERN IS NOTED. ONCE AGAIN, DO NOT DELAY YOUR PLAN TOO LONG. RESULTS ARE EXPECTED BY TOMORROW. DO NOT ALLOW HER TO APPROACH THE DEVICE, OR WE WILL KILL HER AND YOU WILL BE DENIED YOUR REVENGE.

Riöna was still underneath him, shaking with tension. Barry grabbed her hands as she tried to reach up and trapped her with his eyes as their thoughts merged once more.

+ I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't think they would shoot at us! +

> It's OK. We're OK. We're not hurt <

+ They're going to kill us! What are we going to do? +

> They want me to kill you, anyway. I'm letting them think I'm going to, but I won't <

+ Maybe you should... I'm no good to you +

> Nonsense. You told me what we needed to do with the drone. Now we just need to figure out how to get the battery back <

+ What if it doesn't work? +

> Then maybe we both die. But I think that is likely no matter what. I'd rather die than live with myself if I had to kill you <

+ I couldn't live with myself if you died because of me +

> Then let's not die, either one of us <

Riöna slipped a hand free and brushed his face. Her dark blue eyes glimmered with pent-up emotion which he could feel directly in her mind. She shifted her head, and her silver-blonde hair fell back, exposing her ear. His hand drew towards it naturally; he was mesmerized by its unique shape, much like a cone leading back to a point at the back of her head, filled with complex shapes and small metallic piercings of some unknown significance. Though clearly unusual for anything that would have been human, she still bore an exquisite femininity that stirred feelings deep in his mind. Realizing what that meant, he jumped up immediately, breaking the connection without warning. A look of pain and confusion flashed over her face for the barest moment, until their captors spoke out again.

DO NOT BE DECEIVED BY HER PLOY. SHE HATES YOU AND WILL DESTROY YOU IF GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY. DO NOT BE CAUGHT VULNERABLE TO HER OR WE MAY BE FORCED TO DESTROY HER FOR YOUR SAFETY. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.

He watched her as they continued in her own language; a moment of listening, a moment of reflection, and then maybe, just maybe, the widening of pupils as a new shock rippled through her consciousness.

HE WILL TRY TO DESTROY YOU, AS HE WOULD HAVE DONE TO YOUR WHOLE WORLD IF WE HAD NOT STOPPED HIM. HE IS A SCOUT - IF HE LIVES TO TELL HIS PEOPLE OF YOUR WORLD'S LOCATION, MORE WILL COME, AND WE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO STOP THEM. YOU SHOULD KILL HIM TO KEEP YOUR WORLD'S LOCATION SAFE. WE ALSO CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY WHILE HE IS STILL ALIVE.

Perhaps she knew what he had started to feel in that moment. He had to break the connection - just in case. Developing feelings for her could destroy their friendship, and hopelessly complicate the first meeting of the two species. For the sake of their futures, he had to be strong, and find a way to suppress any thought of her as a woman. The gentle curve of her neck would be hard to forget, now that he had seen it. He didn't know how to hide it from her the next time they touched minds, but he was sure he had to find a way.

"Bårre."

He woke up in the middle of the sleep cycle. A shadow approached from the cover of another tree.

He lay still, watching. A figure searched the darkness carefully, going from her memory of the pattern of roots under the tree where he took his sleep.

"Bårre," she whispered.

"Here," he whispered. "What do you-"

Riöna's hand flashed out, covering his mouth.

"Ssh."

Her head touched his. Alarmed, he tried to pull away, but she held surprisingly strong, and pressed their foreheads together.