Contact
Psi
I was startled by this, as were Mikhail and James, noticeably so, but the captain remained calm.
“As I said, we are on a mission of exploration. We mean you no harm. Why did you make contact with us?” the captain asked, to which the aliens said nothing at first.
Eventually, they replied simply. “To find out why you were here.”
“Ah,” said the captain and, unsure of how to continue, decided to revert to basics. “This is Mikhail Petrov, our engineer, Brooke Taylor, our bioscientist, and James McReid, our computer scientist. Our first officer is Luis Raiez.” As he introduced us each, he pointed to us, and we waved, or smiled, or did something of the sort – with the exception of Luis.
After a substantial silence, the captain cleared his throat, and asked, “What are your names?”
The aliens turned to each other for a second, then faced us again and one said, “I am Sassrassan, this is Nrassn. We are scientists.”
“What do you study, specifically?” I blurted out the question without even really meaning to say anything. It had been a while since I’d said anything, though, and I felt really awkward just listening to a conversation. The aliens turned toward me, and replied, “We study information.”
I didn’t really know how to respond, so I just made a generally interested sound, and hoped that that would suffice.
The captain, no doubt in an effort to spur on better relations, asked some more questions. “Tell us more about yourselves,” he said, “Where are you from? When were you born? What was your life like?”
The aliens looked at one another for a considerable time, before one queried the captain, “Born? What does that mean?” “Um, when you were…created,” said the captain, realising that it’s actually a fairly difficult thing to explain shortly.
“We were created at the beginning,” said one of the aliens. “Well, yes,” said the captain, “but how long ago was ‘the beginning’ for you?” When the aliens looked blankly (which was really their only look, it seemed) at him, he continued. “Here,” he said, “Watch.” He pulled a pen from one of his sleeve pockets, and sketched something on a pad of paper. “There, when was that created, in your terms?” he asked, to which the reply was surprisingly, “A short while ago.”
“Okay, then when were you created?” asked the captain, to which the seemingly dominant alien replied, “The beginning.” It was now the captain’s turn to stare blankly, so the alien unfurled slightly, pulling himself towards the captain, and placing one hand on each shoulder (the thicker fingered ones) and one hand on each side of his head. “Here,” said the alien, “I’ll show you.”
As the alien closed his eyes, the captain began to scream.
“As I said, we are on a mission of exploration. We mean you no harm. Why did you make contact with us?” the captain asked, to which the aliens said nothing at first.
Eventually, they replied simply. “To find out why you were here.”
“Ah,” said the captain and, unsure of how to continue, decided to revert to basics. “This is Mikhail Petrov, our engineer, Brooke Taylor, our bioscientist, and James McReid, our computer scientist. Our first officer is Luis Raiez.” As he introduced us each, he pointed to us, and we waved, or smiled, or did something of the sort – with the exception of Luis.
After a substantial silence, the captain cleared his throat, and asked, “What are your names?”
The aliens turned to each other for a second, then faced us again and one said, “I am Sassrassan, this is Nrassn. We are scientists.”
“What do you study, specifically?” I blurted out the question without even really meaning to say anything. It had been a while since I’d said anything, though, and I felt really awkward just listening to a conversation. The aliens turned toward me, and replied, “We study information.”
I didn’t really know how to respond, so I just made a generally interested sound, and hoped that that would suffice.
The captain, no doubt in an effort to spur on better relations, asked some more questions. “Tell us more about yourselves,” he said, “Where are you from? When were you born? What was your life like?”
The aliens looked at one another for a considerable time, before one queried the captain, “Born? What does that mean?” “Um, when you were…created,” said the captain, realising that it’s actually a fairly difficult thing to explain shortly.
“We were created at the beginning,” said one of the aliens. “Well, yes,” said the captain, “but how long ago was ‘the beginning’ for you?” When the aliens looked blankly (which was really their only look, it seemed) at him, he continued. “Here,” he said, “Watch.” He pulled a pen from one of his sleeve pockets, and sketched something on a pad of paper. “There, when was that created, in your terms?” he asked, to which the reply was surprisingly, “A short while ago.”
“Okay, then when were you created?” asked the captain, to which the seemingly dominant alien replied, “The beginning.” It was now the captain’s turn to stare blankly, so the alien unfurled slightly, pulling himself towards the captain, and placing one hand on each shoulder (the thicker fingered ones) and one hand on each side of his head. “Here,” said the alien, “I’ll show you.”
As the alien closed his eyes, the captain began to scream.