Outward Borne (40 page)

Rodik and Cari had dressed with
care. Rodik stood straight, with his long blond hair, blue eyes,
and tall slim frame. He looked almost regal. He held his right arm
bent at the elbow with his hand extended palm up. Cari placed her
arm on top of his with her hand palm down, a position of respect
and greeting. She had wavy, deep red hair, and a very pale
complexion that she was about learn, to her dismay, freckled in the
sunlight. Ignoring the Das’ wish that they blend in, each wore
their personal colors and design elements, well-fitted pants and
mid-length sleeved tops with contrasting shoulder capes. The colors
were not far different from what might be found on Earth, but the
fabric was unusually light and deeply dyed. They looked different,
dressed different, and acted different. It took some getting used
to.

Rodik took a half step forward and
began his prepared address. “Cari Umballa,” he began, bowing
slightly in her direction, “and I, Rodik Norik, are most incredibly
pleased to represent our fellow Voyagers in expressing our joy in
being here on Earth and to present greetings to you one and all. We
hope that you will accept us and give us welcome to your land so
that we may learn of the wonderful life and peaceful world that you
have created. Many centuries ago, our ancestors were taken from
their villages here on Earth and brought to an interstellar
spaceship we know as the Outward Voyager. They were captured by an
alien species, the ObLaDas, who roam the galaxy seeking intelligent
life forms that they wish to study, understand, and assist. We, the
People of the Outward Voyager, made a life for ourselves on that
ship through many generations, as did several other alien life
forms. The ObLaDas know that advanced civilizations are rare and
fragile and that the beings that created those civilizations,
however different they may be, deserve their respect and esteem.
The ObLaDas have committed themselves to foster and sustain
advanced life within the galaxy. As part of that mission, some of
the People on the Outward were chosen and returned to Earth. We are
saddened to have left our families and friends behind, but we now
look forward to making a new life, with new friends, and new
families, here on Earth.” Rodik ended with a slight bow, and looked
toward the mountains, clearly relieved that he was
finished.

Cari Umbala stepped forward and
stood even with Rodik. Again placing her arm on his, she began, “I,
Cari Umbala, cannot express the joy that I feel in looking upon the
blue sky, floating clouds, and this incredibly varied and beautiful
land. I can hear birds singing. The sound of birds,” she sobbed,
knees buckling slightly. Rodik bent to hold her while she regained
her composure. “The sound of birds is legend among us. They are
known from a poem written by one of the original captives in which
she described what she missed most on leaving Earth. Oh, we are so
happy to be here.” she turned away as the cheers and yells from the
people lining the cordon were clearly heard, but she could not
continue. Cari, it is true, was overcome with emotion, but in fact,
she was also very weak from the ordeal, and had only the day before
stood unaided for the first time.

There was one who was well
recovered, and who felt the strain of being confined within the
small lander day after day. To Rugge, the site of the open meadow
was all but irresistible. He gave Rodik a sharp bark, vigorously
wagging his tail while sitting which made his whole body wriggle.
Rodik held Cari firmly and looked toward the cheering crowd. “Cari
and I will not set foot on Earth today, but there is one who would
most like to do so.” Rugge, pronounced rouge, stood at his signal,
poised to run. Rodik gave him the gesture to circle as Rugge jumped
off the platform into the meadow. A veteran of many races, the
cordon around the field looked enough like a racetrack that he
began to sprint at speed around its edge. The flybot kept pace with
the running dog that was renowned for his grace and athleticism.
Coming around the final bend, several pheasants flew up before him.
Without breaking stride, Rugge made a futile leap at them, and
easily covered an astounding distance. Running under the ship, he
jumped onto the platform, again sitting next to Cari, panting
heavily, with a grin on his face.

The three remained there for a few
minutes longer, and then turned to re-enter the ship. Their
appearance lasted no more than twenty minutes, but what a show! It
was a triumph. There were few who felt anything but admiration for
those striking people, Rugge included. Hearts wept at Cari’s
stumble and broke with her tears. Rugge’s run was shown over and
over again. Experts argued over what breed it was and decided it
was a descendant of the Norwegian elkhound. They were close. Red
Racers were found to be later decedents of a large hunting hound of
central Europe, a predecessor of the elkhound and other once-fierce
hunting dogs.

Beyond the goodwill that the
Voyagers’ emergence engendered, their actual appearance was
probably the most influential element of the affair. Their ‘look’
instantly became a topic of worldwide comment and emulation. The
Voyagers are a handsome people, although, at first sight, their
appearance was startling. Only about one hundred and eighty-five to
two hundred twenty People lived on the Outward at any time, and a
unique and individual appearance was highly prized. For centuries,
the People had developed and refined individual styles, often
adapting a historic look that had been used by an esteemed
ancestor. Each person chose a pallet of colors that particularly
suited them, clothing that was cut and shaped to compliment or
emphasize their body type, their own hair style, body colors and
symbols that were immediately recognizable. Rodik’s blond locks
were cut into V-shape that went down his neck. His scalp was a
rust-red that was reflected by his hair to appear a deep
yellow-gold. He wore a complimentary gold-yellow cape that further
emphasized the effect and was coordinated with a trim long tunic
that went to mid-thigh, straight slim-cut pants, and bare feet dyed
red, all of which lengthened his already tall, trim form. It is
ironic that the voyagers, who revered a unique style, and almost
never followed trends, inspired a wave of fashion fads.

Cari was still in tears. “I am sorry I could
not finish my speech,” she repeated for the fifth time.

“
No matter, Cari, it went well
enough. I am just glad that Rugge did not run off into the forest.
There were at least a hundred people standing out beyond the fence,
maybe more. They looked so excited to see us, so happy.”

Chapter 22 The Voyagers

The Voyagers, cooped up inside the
lander, had become anxious and nervous, afraid even. They would
need to leave soon and go out into this new world, and they were
concerned. Their welcome had not gone as they had hoped that it
would. They would be taken by the military men and would under
their control. It was not clear that they would ever be able to get
free of them. Much of what happened during the next days was due to
the foresight of Ragnar Jondar, although he never spoke of
it.

“
I am very worried,” Ragnar said,
“our radio is being monitored by anyone who wants to do it, and our
satellite communications have been intercepted as well. Apparently
they were able to maneuver some satellite into position to pick up
its signals. We have no way to prevent the government, or the Army
people, from taking control from in here and no way to contact
anyone else for help, not that we know who to contact, even if we
could.”

Rodik agreed, he had been thinking
about the problem for some time. “We need to find a way to speak
confidentially with some of those people, someone who has a good
understanding of laws and business and is willing to help us. Those
people in the forest have some very good communications gear, if we
could just obtain one of their computers, or All-1s, or whatever
they are called, perhaps we could find someone to help
us.”

“
Well, Ragnar, no one as big as
you could go out there and ask for one without being seen, but a
dog could, a small dog,” said Kelli Imally, who, at seventeen, was
one of the younger girls, “A little dog could carry a note asking
for a computer and might be able to bring it back without being
seen.”

Ragnar Jondar, by contrast, was
one of the older men at thirty-one, and coincidentally one of the
largest. He had been selected to be the Voyagers’ leader on Earth,
but he did not know Kelli very well. “What dog could do that,
Kelli?”

“
Broga could.”

“
How so?”

“
I trained her to follow flybots.
She is very good at it.”

“
Why did you do such a
thing?”

“
She follows the bots around as if
she was on a string. She runs in circles, zigzags, and goes back
and forth, it’s really quite funny.”

“
I never saw such a thing, did you
Rodik?”

“
Oh yes, it is very odd the way
her dog runs about, amazing really. I think it wants to catch the
bot, but knows it is not allowed to. It has kind of a frustrated
energy.”

“
You are weird,” said
Cari.

“
Well am what am and proud to be
Miss Cari. Still, if we put a sign on her and had a flybot go out
and find some friendly people, perhaps they will help
us.”

Broga was nine years old and had
been Kelli’s constant companion for as long as she could remember.
Kelli had been a shy, solitary girl who spends a great deal of her
time alone with her pet and, perhaps out of boredom, trained her to
do some unusual things.

“
You are really weird, Kellie,”
Cari repeated.

“
And you have a better plan, Miss
Normal Head?” Kelli shot back.

Neither Miss Normal Head nor
anyone else had a better plan, so shortly after dark a small panel
slid open beneath the lander, and a flybot and Broga dropped to the
ground. Broga was a smallish home dog, with curly, dark brown fur
and a large black backsack. The odd pair made their way through the
tall grass toward a stand of fir trees. Broga had to dig to slip
under the fence, a novel experience. She crawled forward and
crouched beneath some low, dense shrubs. There was no sign of alarm
as they waited. No one had seen them. The flybot rose up to look
about, and identified three young people camped in a small clearing
a short way east. They all seemed to be busy communicating, a good
sign.

With a barely audible buzz, the flybot moved
to the edge of the campsite and hid behind a tree. Broga followed,
creeping closer to the campfire lit area. She was fascinated by the
flames, the many wonderful new smells, and the first strangers that
she had ever encountered. She wanted very much to greet them, but
was afraid at the same time, so she remained out of sight in the
bushes. It did not matter very much, because when Broga was
excited, she was not very quiet.

Martha saw her first and squealed
in her way, which was very much like Kelli’s way. “Look at the cute
little dog, I never saw one like that before.” As she giving Broga
a hug, Patty pulled off the dark green scarf that had been tied
around her neck.

“
It looks like writing, but it is
all sewn on,” Patty said marveling. Neither girl had ever
contemplated the art of anything so difficult as sewing. Moving
nearer the lantern, she tried to make out what it said.

“
Greetings. My dogs’ name is
Broga, be nice to her. She has come from the lander, where we would
like to make contact with you very directly. Will you lend us a
communication device? Please do. I will give it back if I can. With
hope, Kelli Imally.”

“
Do you think it is some stupid
trick? We put our phone in there and the dog runs off, and some
jerks laugh at us for being so dumb?”

“
It could be, but this dog is
really different,” said Martha, who had been to many dog shows and
knew a lot about breeds, “and so is this scarf. The material is
very strange. It would be so fame if it were really
them.”

With that, the flybot moved out of
the bushes and into the light. It circled slowly over their heads,
chirped and flashed in an impressive fashion, and gave an
all-together convincing display of extraterrestrial
technology.

“
We must help them, don’t you
think?” asked Martha.

After some discussion, the girls
decided to take the risk. Patty set her computer to her iSite
address and allowed it to work with permission, while Martha logged
into her computer, so that they could remain connected in video
conference mode. They woke up Martha’s geekified younger brother,
Derik, he-whom-you-must-bring, and told him to list some email
contacts and blogs that might help the Voyagers. The Chief Research
Officer of Google, his idol, was his first choice. Martha put the
computer into the pack, and was about to send Broga off, when Patty
yelled for her to stop. She ran over to her tent and pulled out her
secret diary and matching pink pen, and stuffed them into the pack.
“They don’t have anything to write on,” she explained.

Broga and the flybot quickly
returned to the lander, and within moments of opening the computer,
JiDeSon Alomar was looking at the smiling faces of Martha/Patty,
pressed cheek to cheek on the small screen.

“
Oh hello, hello! We are so
excited, is it really you?”