World Travelers Ch. 01

She stopped ten feet from me, gave us both a quick look and said, "Welcome to Panternia. I know you have questions, and I promise to give you answers, but before I do, I suggest we shield your pale skin from this star's ultra-violet rays."

With that, she turned around and walked back towards the woods.

I looked at David. He looked at me. We both shrugged our shoulders and followed her.

"First question," I said once we got into the woods. "Where are our clothes?"

"Interesting," the woman said. "You are the first human to leave her solar system and yet your opening query is about fashion."

"I'm not concerned about what I wear. I just want to wear something."

"Why is that dear? Are you cold? We picked this planet because its ambient temperature is very close to that of Earth."

"No, I'm not cold, I'm just not used to running around naked. You have clothes on, why can't I?"

"Would you be more comfortable if I removed my clothing?" she asked.

"No. Absolutely not."

"How about you, David? Are you also concerned about your nakedness?"

"Not really," he said. "I do some of my best work dressed just like I am now. But I would like to know how we got here, where here is, and how the hell you got that space suit off me in less than a second."

"Fair enough. As I said before, we are on Panternia, which is a planet slightly smaller than Earth. You were transported here via a portal. I won't go into detail about how portals work because the science is well beyond your understanding and, frankly, beyond mine as well. The reason you arrived naked is twofold. Firstly, a basic interstellar transportation device breaks down your body at the portal entrance and reconstructs it at the destination. It only works on organic material. Your space suits, or any other substance, is left behind. But even if we could transport non-organic matter, we wouldn't.

"We brought you here to learn. We want you to experience life on other planets and, eventually, take your newfound knowledge back to Earth. The best way to do this is to assimilate into the local culture. I expect you to eat what the Panternians eat, sleep where they sleep and, yes, wear what they wear. Remember, you are here to observe. Do not judge them. Do not try to change them. Do not share your technology with them or force your morals upon them."

"If we're supposed to mingle with the natives," I asked, "how do we communicate?"

"That's one of the perks of the portal. When it puts your brain back together, it adds the local language."

"How long?" David asked. "How long will we be here?"

"You will stay until you understand."

"Understand what?"

"This planet and yourselves."

"Wow, that's a great non-answer. Since you won't tell us how long we'll be here, will you tell us, when it's time to go, how we leave?"

"Same way you got here. I will put a portal in your path."

"What path?"

Instead of answering immediately, she stepped out of the woods and pointed down the hill where we could see a slight opening in the jungle.

"Your journey will start there. You will find clothes at the bottom of the hill. Put them on and follow the trail." With that final bit of advice, she turned and walked back towards the woods.

"One last question please. Do you have a name?"

"Call me Chris," she said and then disappeared into an orange pulsating light.

David rushed over to the spot where Chris disappeared. He inspected the ground and even looked behind a few trees before he was convinced that she was really gone.

"Chris lied to us," David said as he walked back towards me.

"Why do you say that?"

"He said that, when people use the portal, their clothes are left behind. I didn't find any clothes on the ground so he must have taken his with him."

"You mean her clothes."

"No, I mean Chris's clothes."

"I know you mean Chris's clothes, but you said his and Chris is a woman."

"Is there something wrong with your eyes?" David asked. "Chris is obviously a man."

"Describe the person you think is Chris."

"He's about six feet tall ... two hundred, maybe two ten. Mid-fifties."

"What was he wearing?"

"Khaki pants, polo shirt, tennis shoes."

"What color was his hair."

"He was bald."

"Did he remind you of anybody from your past?"

David thought for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, he looked and acted a lot like my high school football coach."

"And tell me David, your football coach, was he a man you admired and trusted?"

"Absolutely. If it wasn't for Coach Miller, I'd probably be in jail."

"Curiouser and curiouser."

"Are you talking about me almost going to jail?"

"No. That doesn't surprise me a bit. I was referring to our current situation. You saw Chris as your football coach. I saw her as my college mentor. I have no idea how he or she did it, but when Chris spoke, we both saw and heard someone we would inherently trust."

"Which means he got into our brains," David said.

"That explains how Chris knew your name and, apparently, a lot more about us."

"Well," David said after a few moments of silence, "I don't know what kind of shit sandwich Chris served us, but it's the only one we got so we might as well start chewing on it."

"As usual, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Unless you've got a better idea, we should find out if Chris really did leave us some clothes and then follow the trail while we've still got some daylight left."

I had never in my life walked barefoot outside. I wouldn't have been surprised if David went without shoes routinely as a child, but he certainly didn't for the last two years. My point being our descent down the hill was slowed considerably ... not only because of our tender feet but also due to other factors.

In my case, it was my unrestrained boobs. I wasn't proud of my overly developed breasts. Unlike other women, I considered them liabilities instead of assets and normally constrained them with well-constructed bras. Finally free, they taunted me by bouncing and swaying with each hesitant step I took during my naked march down the hill.

I was initially concerned about how David would react to such a lewd display, but when I looked over at him, I had to stifle a chuckle as he struggled with his own deformity.

Sometime during our conversation with Chris, David's "largest dick on Mars" had lost its steel and now was flopping around like a length of rope tied to a pogo stick. Every step he took caused it to swing back and forth, which may have been okay if it didn't also hit his well-developed thighs, sending it on the occasional sideways spiral.

Thankfully the promised pile of clothing waited for us at the end of our torturous trip down the hill.

Both garments were made of a silk-like material. Mine was a sleeveless dress with a V-neckline that plunged to my belly button. The soft, white material flowed effortlessly around my bosom, gathered slightly around my waist, closely followed the contour of my hips, and ended several inches above my knees. It showed much more cleavage and leg than I was used to, but was certainly an improvement over what I was previously wearing.

David's outfit reminded me of a medieval tunic. It was made of a brown, coarser version of the silk, incorporating elbow length sleeves, a belt around his waist and a skirt which extended to his knees.

"I'd rather have jeans, T-shirt, and hiking boots," I told David. "But if this is what the locals wear, I guess we're stuck with it."

Instead of responding, David just looked at me. Not at my eyes. If asked what color they were, even after two years of working closely together, I bet he wouldn't know. As usual, he was staring at my breasts and then my legs.

"Turn around," he finally said.

"Why?"

"I want to see your back side."

"Really? We're marooned lightyears from home, and you want to check out my ass?"

"No. I've already done that and a mighty fine ass it is. What's got me interested is our clothes. There's something missing."

"Are you talking about the lack of undergarments?"

"Not exactly, although I've always thought women looked better without a panty line. But here, look at this damn dress I'm wearing and tell me how it was made."

David made a slow turn and I finally figured out what he was talking about.

"There aren't any seams," I said.

"Exactly. And they fit us like gloves. Since Chris and his people dismantled and reconstructed our bodies, they obviously know our sizes down to the molecule. But making clothes without seams implies they weren't sewn from a bolt of material. The cloth itself was custom made for us."

"So, they've found a better way to make clothes. Not surprising for a civilization that can transport people billions of miles in a second. What's your point? Are you afraid we won't fit in with the natives because their clothes have seams and ours don't?"

"Yeah, you're right. I should be more concerned about not having horns or a tail. Let's face it, we've got no idea what's in this jungle. But since we've got no choice, let's go exploring."

With that pronouncement, David took off down the trail. No discussion about our options. No agreement about who would lead. He, the alpha male, made the decision and I, the weak and vulnerable woman, was expected to unquestionably follow him.

Which I refused to do.

I learned to endure his outdated chauvinistic ways for a couple of hours a week while on Mars, but always had the safety of the habitat to protect me. This was different. If I quickly and quietly acquiesced to everything David said, if he never heard me say "no" to a simple matter such as who would lead us down the trail, then he would also not let me say no when it was important. I had no idea how long we would be stranded on Panternia. But be it a day, a week, or a year, I refused to submit to David ... in all aspects of the term.

So, I sat down on a log and waited for David to realize I wasn't behind him. And when he returned, we would have a little talk.

After five or maybe ten minutes, I wandered a short distance down the path. Not to follow David, that wasn't going to happen. But, instead of wasting my time waiting on a recalcitrant man, I put my time and education to good use and studied the jungle foliage.

At first glance, as jungles go, this one seemed much like those I had studied on Earth. There was a dense layer of green undergrowth consisting of leafy bushes, brightly colored flowers, and creeping vines. Small trees, varying in size from fifteen to fifty feet, were evenly spaced amongst the green flooring, each of which bore various types of fruit. Several much taller trees, intermingled with their shorter brethren, blossomed at their tops into an almost impervious upper canopy.

Upon closer inspection, I realized I was in a botanist's heaven. While similar to Earth's jungles, I couldn't identify a single plant, tree, vine, or fruit. That's when it finally hit me.

I am on an alien planet. I will be the first human to study a completely unknown ecosystem. If I play my cards right, my time on Panternia will make Darwin's scientific voyage around the world look like a trip to the local park.

Just like a kid in the candy shop, I looked around me, picked out the most exotic looking flower and bent down to study it. I had just begun the delicate process of peeling the flower's petals back to see if a Panternian flower's anatomy matched those of Earth when I heard a rustling behind me.

Shit! I was so interested in the flora; I had completely forgotten about the fauna. I turned around expecting to see a large animal charging down the trail but saw nothing but jungle. Which wasn't good ... because I also couldn't see the log where Chris had left our clothes or the clearing where we first arrived on Panternia. The trail was disappearing or, to put it more succinctly, the jungle was marching down the trail towards me, filling in what once was a clear path with a menacing wall of bushes, thorns, and vines.

I ran... away from the advancing forest and towards David, not knowing which was the biggest threat. The faster I ran the faster the jungle advanced. The trail turned every twenty or thirty yards as it wound its way around the trees, giving me no hint as to what lay ahead, forcing me to blindly rush towards whatever fate awaited. My body tired, my mind wanted to stop and let the inevitable happen, but my survival instinct pushed me on. Deeper and deeper into the jungle I ran until, when I thought I could physically go no further, I broke out onto the sandy beach of a narrow river ... and damn near tripped over David's prone body, lying face down.

Unable to speak due to physical exhaustion, I kneeled to see if he was breathing. He startled when I touched him and then grabbed my arm and forced me down beside him.

"What the..."

"Quiet," he whispered and emphasized his point by putting a sweaty, sandy hand over my mouth.

Fighting him was not an option. He was a large, muscular man and I, although not a complete wimp, would be no match in a physical altercation. Instead, I completely relaxed my body and pointed to the trail, except it wasn't there. The hole in the jungle that I had just stumbled through was now an unbroken wall of undergrowth. The only hint that there was once a trail was the two sets of footprints in the sand.

"Where is the trail?" David whispered.

"It kind of filled itself in. Why are we whispering?" I asked.

"There." He pointed upstream where I saw several people on the other side of the river.

At least I thought they were people. They were a good fifty yards from us and, whoever or whatever I saw, had all the major parts of a human. Two legs, two arms, and a head, all connected to a long, upright torso. The obvious difference between them and me was their green tinted skin and pink hair.

Since they all wore white dresses, similar to what I was wearing but each with subtle variations of style, I assumed we were looking at a group of females. My theory was confirmed when, one by one, they stripped out of their dresses and stepped into the river to bathe, revealing generous breasts and the lack of external reproductive organs.

"Any idea of what we should do next?"

That was my new strategy. Instead of outright taking charge, I would ask for David's opinion. If his plan wasn't outrageously wrong, I'd go along. If his idea was a recipe for disaster, I'd try to talk him out of it using simple words and phrases.

"I was thinking about following them," he said. "Stay out of sight until they're done and then see if they lead us to a town or some sort of civilization."

"How do we get across the river? The current seems pretty strong. I don't want to get swept downstream."

"Yeah, the water's running fast down here but the river's a good bit wider where they are. As soon as they leave, we'll hustle upstream and try to find a safe place to cross."

We watched in silence as the women enjoyed the water. He didn't ask me why I took so long to catch up with him, I didn't ask why he never came back to check on me.

One of the braver girls made her way to a large rock on the boundary between the calm pool they were using for their baths and the rapidly moving water heading our way. Climbing up the rock, she walked to the edge and lied down on her back, like a lizard sunning itself.

I wondered if the girl was as happy and content as she appeared. She spread her arms upward, clasping her fingers together to support her head. Her knees were bent, legs spread, feet flat on the rock ... shamelessly exposing her hairless crotch to the world.

Maybe there is no such thing as modesty on this planet? Perhaps their men aren't sex obsessed goons who spend their days scheming new and different ways to get into a woman's pants.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it to be so. To the point where I visualized myself up on that rock. Lying beside the girl with my bare breasts pointing skyward. My naked pussy exposed for all to admire but none to lust after.

My daydream was interrupted by the other women. They were all back on the far shore, putting their dresses on as they beckoned the girl to come join them. She seemed reluctant to abandon her perch of peace, but dutifully rose to leave.

I couldn't tell exactly what happened next. She either hit her foot on something or perhaps a small animal startled her. Regardless of cause, the girl stumbled backwards and fell off the rock into the rushing stream.

From the way she struggled, it was apparent that she didn't know how to swim. She screamed as the water carried her towards us. As much as I wanted to help, there was nothing I could do. And even if I had a rope or something buoyant to throw to the girl, that would only reveal our presence to her friends. So, I stayed hidden and watched in horror as she slipped below the surface.

David thought otherwise. When it became evident that she was in trouble, he leapt out of our hiding place and dove into the river, stroking towards the drowning girl. Running to the water's edge myself, I saw him reach the girl and lift her above the surface, but he couldn't pull her to the shore before the river swept them both into a dark tunnel of dense jungle and disappeared from sight.

I stood on the sandy shore and stared at the point where the jungle swallowed the river, the girl, and David. As much as I disliked the man, I didn't want him dead. Gone from my life? Certainly. But a civilized person - a woman with my moral upbringing and advanced education - did not wish for the death of any living thing. And yet, while I experienced a pang of sorrow for a girl I would never meet, all I felt for a man I had known for several years was anger.

Ever since he joined the habitat project, he had done everything in his power to make me feel inferior to him.

After thanking him for fixing a dripping faucet in my bathroom, rather than the standard "you're welcome", he said, "they don't teach that in college, do they?"

He tilled the Martian soil that we used for our greenhouse. "They don't teach that in college, do they?"

He rewired our common area, giving everybody a place to plug in their computers. "They don't teach that in college, do they?"

If he said, "they don't teach that in college" once, he said it a thousand times and I was sick of hearing it.

Yes. David had skills, the journeyman skills you would expect from an uneducated maintenance man. He was useful in the sense that he kept things running while the rest of us, those who had gone to college, could save mankind by learning how to survive somewhere besides Earth. And now, when I really needed him, when my survival depended on those skills, he does something stupid and gets himself killed.

Because of his careless attempt at heroics, I was forced to choose between following him down the river or surrendering to the locals. Easy choice.