Aliena (12 page)

“I will do them!” he promised.

“I am tired, and my control is weakening. Please, make love to me now.”

He did, almost savagely. Her ailment was not of the body but of the mind. She obliged him eagerly, following wherever he led. “Ali ali ena!” he sang, and she responded with her love Note. It was wonderful, yet still tragic in its meaning: this was their next to last time.

“That was refreshing,” she said. “Orgasm reinvigorates my system, at least for a while.”

“Mine too.” Then he helped her put her face and hair in order, and to dress, and they went out to rejoin the others.

“The starfish have a show for us,” Johnson said. “According to a translator robot. A sort of preview of what tourists will eventually experience. It’s a roller coaster ride.”

“Roller coaster!” Maple exclaimed, bright eyed after her nap. She had a fair notion of what was what when it came to fun.

They took the boat to the roller coaster. There it was, an open carriage on wheels on a track leading into darkness.

“Ordinarily I’d be nervous about this,” Sam said. “But I trust the starfish.”

They boarded the carriage and strapped in. Brom and Aliena were in the front seats, with Maple between them. Next were the grandparents, and finally Sam and Martha.

The carriage started moving. A light came on, illuminating a steep ascent ahead. The carriage moved up it to a scary height, to Maple’s delight.

At the top the sun came out, much as it looked from Earth, though of course this was an animation. It showed the tracks descending into a lush valley surrounded by snow-covered mountains, with a river coursing through it. The scene was so lovely that it had to be an artist’s conception, but it was nevertheless quite realistic. It was as if they really were on this landscape.

“This is a representation of our home planet,” Aliena said. She made a moue. “Idealized. It’s not nearly so neat or clean in person. Cleanliness can interfere with efficiency.”

“It’s lovely,” Rebecca said.

Aliena smiled, and Brom realized that she appreciated the compliment despite having disparaged the view. She had become more human than starfish.

The carriage started down, gaining velocity as it zoomed into the valley. “Oooo!” Maple cried, loving it. They passed through extensive fields of what might be corn; this was an agricultural section. Sheep-like animals grazed; they were not eating the corn stalks, but the weeds around and under them. That seemed odd.

“The animals have starfish brains,” Aliena explained. “They are tending the crop, not eating it.”

“Sheep,” Maple said, delighted.

They rushed into what appeared to be a town, though there were no access roads, just tall cylindrical buildings. Barges floated between the structures, carrying barrels.

“Anti-gravity, as you prefer to call it,” Aliena said. “Actually magnetic repulsion, in this case. That saves on transport costs.

“Why build highways when you can float,” Johnson asked rhetorically. “Will that be another gift for Earth?”

“Yes.”

“I am not seeing what Earth can offer in return that would even begin to approach the value of such a gift.”

“We seek nothing physical. The complications of transporting it a hundred light years would be prohibitive, despite efficient management. But information, such as the genetic details of your biology, can be communicated instantly. Our scientists are enraptured. We also appreciate your imaginative literature, your fantasy narratives; they can be very diverting, especially as insights into your culture. And of course your music; music is fundamental to our nature.”

Now Brom saw what appeared to be a floating pond: water in a translucent container, drifting toward the city.

“Tourists in their sea forms,” Aliena said. “It saves the bother of occupying land based animals.”

The carriage swung around a curve at amazing speed, but they did not feel any impart. “Partial stasis,” Aliena said. “It nullifies the effects of acceleration and enables faster motion.”

They zoomed along just above the river, no tracks visible; evidently they were merely for show, until the tourists became accustomed to the real case: anti-gravity, or whatever.

The tour continued, finishing where it had started, the tracks reappearing. Now a speaker in the carriage spoke. “Did you enjoy the ride, Maple?”

“Yes!”

“Then here is a gift for you, in memory of it.” A panel opened and a pink starfish doll appeared.

Maple shrieked with delight and snatched it up. It was evidently a kind of toy, but an unusual one. It made a faint keening sound, as of delight with her company. It curled its rays around her as she hugged it close. It was a huggable doll.

“What do you say?” Aliena gently asked her daughter.

“Thank you!”

They got out of the carriage, Maple clinging to the doll. “That was an interesting experience,” Rebecca said.

“It will be improved for the Earth tourists, after the Unveiling,” Aliena said. “We want them to think well of us, and not resent our intrusion in their stellar system.”

The transport boat took them to a fancy restaurant where polite robot servitors catered to their every culinary desire, including chocolate chip ice cream for Maple.

“The tourists will absolutely love this,” Johnson said as he sipped his cognac.

They watched a pleasant family show with something for every one, ranging from dancing bears to dancing women with translucent skirts. Then they turned in for the night, Maple with the grandparents.

“Give me something to remember,” Aliena told him as she stripped.

Brom tried, but the knowledge that this was the last one choked him up. “Oh, Aliena, I would give anything to keep you with me!”

“I wish I could have remained. But remember, you will be having sex as usual, with this same body, and in time new love. There is no fault in the replacement; she will be much like me, only less experienced in human ways. It has to be.”

Brom put his face in his pillow and sobbed. She patted him on the back, unable to console him in this respect.

They slept embraced. Aliena was tired, and had at last yielded to her fatigue. She took comfort in his nearness, and he was glad and sad to provide it.

In the morning they had a fine breakfast, and Aliena was especially solicitous to her daughter. “Today I will change,” she said. “I will become a starfish, like the one you hold. I hope you will still love me, as I love you.”

“Yes,” Maple agreed tearfully. Brom was not certain how much she really understood, and not sure how much he wanted her to.

“Dad and Grandpa and Grandma love you too, and they will all be with you. Try to behave, because this is hard on them too.”

“Yes,” Maple agreed, her tears unabated. She understood too much.

“I understand they have a fine playground with tame animals,” Johnson told her. “We must go see it.” He took Maple’s hand.

“We’ll all go,” Rebecca said, glancing at Sam and Martha, whose duties were in abatement during the surgery.

“I will not be with you,” Aliena said, kissing them each in turn, including Sam and Martha, whose traditional impassivity was evidently under a strain. “I must depart now for the surgery. But Brom—if you will come with me, I would like your comfort.”

“Oh, Aliena, I know nothing about brain surgery!” Brom protested. “And the thought of you being replaced still breaks me up. I don’t think I can handle it. I would only be in the way.”

A tear came to her eye. “Please. It is the last occasion for me to touch you.”

“I will come,” he agreed, his own vision blurring.

“The surgery is immediate,” Ching said. “Most of it will be done by the Machine. I am largely advisory, these being alien brains. They simply need to verify the proper connections to the human brain stem, and be assured that the host is undamaged.”

They entered another chamber. Aliena used a separate alcove for natural functions, wiped the makeup off her face, then sat on a kind of couch. Padded bands circled her arms, legs, and torso to hold her in place. She extended her right hand to Brom, who sat in his own seat beside her.

“Farewell, beloved,” she said with one last tear. Then a mechanism descended to enclose her head. The Machine Doctor was taking over.

“Oh, Aliena!” Brom moaned. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t sure she could still hear him, so her lifted her hand and kissed it. “I love you!”

Her hand gently squeezed his hand. She had heard.

The surgery proceeded. Brom had no idea exactly that they were doing, and no desire no find out. All he cared about was Aliena’s hand in his. Every so often he squeezed it reassuringly, more to remind her that he was there than anything else, and it squeezed him back. They remained in touch, and that was vastly more important right now than the lovemaking had been before.

Then her hand clenched briefly on his, and relaxed. He squeezed, but there was no response, and he knew she was gone.

The work continued, but Brom had no stomach for it. He got up and blundered toward the exit, blinded by tears.

“Easy,” Johnson said in his ear. “We’ve got you.”

They were both there, Johnson and Rebecca. They must have left Maple with Sam and Martha, who were surely taking good care of her. They took Brom’s two arms and guided him back to the suite. “Thank you,” he said brokenly.

“We love her too,” Rebecca said. “We loved Becky, but Aliena was a worthy replacement and we love her like another daughter. We grieve with you.”

Brom turned to her and wept into her shoulder. She held him, understanding.

“We know how hard this is,” Johnson said after a bit. “But we know also that the forms must be maintained. Officially there will be no change; you remain married to the body, weird as it is to put it that way. We must mask our grief and rejoin the others.”

“Yes,” Brom said, laboring to recover equilibrium. “You know, it was not my idea to recruit you; it was Aliena’s. But I am supremely glad she did.”

“So are we,” Rebecca said. “She returned light to our bleak lives.”

“And to mine,” he agreed. “Now we shall have to deal with the other.”

“We must give her a fair chance,” Johnson said. “Are you up to it, Brom?”

“The external forms, yes. Aliena asked me to do that, and I must. Sex? Maybe. Love? No.”

“How do you think Maple will be?”

“I fear to inquire.”

“So do we. We know about losing a daughter. We don’t know about losing a mother, that young. Yet we’re supposed to be a family, with her at the center. For the Unveiling.”

“The show must go on,” Brom said bitterly.

“It must,” Johnson agreed.

They came to the playground. Sam and Martha stood like indulging parents, watching Maple meet the animals. She seemed happy enough. But when she saw the returning party, she burst into tears. She knew.

Brom picked her up. At least he still had this much of Aliena.

Later, Dr. Ching and his assistant returned. “The operations were a success,” Ching reported. “Both parties survive. Both will be kept in partial stasis for a week to recover from the necessary crudities of the surgeries. Awakening Day is thus one week hence. We may divert ourselves as we choose.” He paused, “Or we may elect to spend part or all of it in stasis ourselves. Do we have a preference?”

Brom exchanged looks with the others. A week of bleakness? No entertainments would suffice. “All of it in stasis,” he said. The others nodded agreement.

They returned to the suite and settled in easy chairs. There was no need to make the request for stasis; the robots monitored them unobtrusively but constantly.

Brom focused on his watch. The date abruptly jumped forward a week. “We’re done,” he said. He felt unchanged, but was satisfied it had happened.

Ching consulted with his phone. “There may be a problem with Aliena,” he said. “She has awakened but is non-responsive.”

“Take me to her,” Brom said, alarmed.

The party was guided to another section of the ship. There was a transparent wall, like that of an aquarium. Beyond it, on the white sand, was a man-sized pink starfish. That was Aliena in her natural body.

Brom put his hands against the wall and stared. He had known this was her nature, but it was different seeing it directly. She was alive; that was what counted. But now the full alieness of her was brutally apparent. Had he loved this?

Yes, damn it, he had. He still did. It was her mind he had come to know, not merely her lovely body. That mind was still there. Unless something was seriously wrong.

Could she be waiting on him? To see whether he would be revolted by the reality? Unwilling to go about her normal business until she knew? It seemed likely.

He gazed at her and sang. “Ali ali ena, ali ali ena.”

The starfish twitched. Then a sound came, either through the wall or via a speaker. It was her love Note. They sang together, in their special fashion. “Ali ali ali ali ali ali ena!”

Sick with relief, Brom sank down against the wall. The starfish moved to it on her side, traveling on myriad tiny feelers, lifting a ray to touch the wall. He put his hand there to meet hers, as close as was feasible. They were together to the extent possible.

Maple came. “Mommy?” she asked.

The ray touched the wall by the child. Maple put out her little hand, and the ray touched opposite it. They, too, had reunited.

Then the starfish moved away. “She will feed and exercise, then return to stasis,” Ching said. “I understand that she has little interest in routine things at the moment. She misses you as you miss her.”

Then it was time to meet the replacement. She awaited them at their suite, where Ching brought her. She looked exactly like Aliena, except for the bandage on her head.

Maple shrank away from her.

“I recognize all of you from the background package,” she said, sounding just like Aliena. “I am the replacement.”

There was a silence. None of them seemed certain how to respond to her. It was supremely awkward.

“Please,” she said. “I am alone in a very strange realm, with a formidable job to do, among those who wish I were someone else. I can handle the physical and intellectual challenges, but I understand that I also need emotion. I think I should cry, but as yet I lack the connections to convert my feeling to this body’s expression. I need your help. How may I obtain it?”