Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (31 page)

“I make out five lobes on each column, sort of like the fruit of the
Averrhoa carambola,
only more elongated,” said Sally Li. As the expedition’s botanist this was her area of expertise, assuming that the triple flowered columns now approaching them were, in fact, plants.

“They do look a bit like star fruit,” commented Ludmilla. “Though I have never seen a star fruit that stood two meters tall, or that had flowers along its edges. But you are right Sally, the five lobe symmetry is quite pronounced.”

“I’m looking at the other triads in the thicket using my suit’s cameras,” said LCpl. Reagan, one of the more cerebral Marines. “Under magnification they all seem to have five ribs on each column as well.”

“Good observation, I wonder if it is a characteristic of all these creatures or just a trait of the local population,” mused Sally. “The one approaching has obviously been sent to meet us, should we move forward?”

“Considering it’s going to take the fruit basket a half hour to reach us that sounds like a reasonable idea,” said Bear.

“They might be able to hear us, Lieutenant,” Lcdr. Curtis admonished. “Though I am sure we appear as alien to them as they do to us. Dr. Tropsha, Isbjørn and myself will approach the creature. Gunny, have the Marines spread out a bit, but no weapons showing. Lt. Bear, you are in command of our reserve.”

“Aye aye, Ma’am,” the Gunny replied before switching to the Marine command frequency to disperse her half squad. Bear muttered, “I wasn’t going to eat ‘em or anything. The only fruit I like has been fermented and preferably distilled.”

Chapter 15

Bridge, Peggy Sue, In Orbit Around Gliese 581d

On the large forward display, the three Earth representatives advanced on the triple stalked native sent to greet them. The Captain had instructed the ship’s computer to send a reply to the radio message, expressing hopes for future friendship, thanking the senders for the background information regarding their civilization and acknowledging the landing instructions. There had been no further communication with the planet’s inhabitants.“You should have sent me along, Captain,” said Jean-Jacques de Belcour, seated in an observer’s chair. “After all, I am a trained diplomat and can at least legitimately claim to represent an assemblage of Earth’s nations.”

“You will get the chance to speak with the indigenous creatures once contact has been solidly established,” Jack replied. The UN bureaucrat was the last one he wanted making first impressions on the natives. They were the only non-hostile alien race discovered so far.

“I certainly hope that your military expedition to the surface does no harm to future relations,” Jean-Jacques huffed, simultaneously conveying a sense of disapproval and personal superiority as only a French diplomat could. From his point of view, he should have led the shore party to establish first contact.

“Wounds inflicted by the sword heal more quickly than those inflicted by the tongue, Monsieur,” the Captain quoted.

“Cardinal Richelieu,” said Billy Ray from the helm, “
Testament politique
, in translation.” 

 The Captain smiled and again addressed the French diplomat. “Commander Curtis has worked with colleagues, port authorities and local dignitaries in Europe, Asia, Africa and South America. She is well practiced at the art of diplomacy, Monsieur. Dr. Tropsha was part of an international crew on the ISS and Isbjørn is the most tactful of all the bears. I believe they will make a favorable impression on the local inhabitants.”

Jean-Jacques bit off a sarcastic remark regarding Dr. Tropsha, realizing at the last instant that insulting the Captain’s lover was a good way to be banished from the bridge. Instead he said, “we will see.” 

Jack sighed.
De Belcour’s thinking is not just wrong, it’s fractally wrong. From a distance, his worldview is incorrect and, if you zoom in on any small part of that worldview, that part is just as wrong as the whole—wrong at every scale
. 

Valley of the Trailing Conclave

Meanwhile, planetside, the three female Earthlings had reached the advancing triad, which evidently sensed their presence and halted its forward motion. For half a minute the two parties simply faced each other. Then, following age old human tradition, Lcdr. Curtis held up empty hands, palms out, to show that she held no weapon. Ludmilla and Isbjørn followed suit.

“OK, now what do we do?” asked Ludmilla.

“I will try talking to it,” said Gretchen. Enabling her suit’s external speaker, she said, “Greetings from the species of planet Earth. We come in peace, seeking friendship and knowledge.”

There was no reply. At least nothing that could be heard over the howling wind. After several long, anxious seconds Gretchen spoke to her companions. “I’d say we should try the radio, but I was transmitting on both suit-to-suit and the ship’s frequency as I spoke. How do you make contact when you cannot communicate?”

“Maybe we are not close enough,” said Isbjørn. “Look how close the main group is bunched together, like seals on a beach.” As with most bears, thought was followed immediately by action—Isbjørn moved closer to the native. She sat down with her front paws resting only a decimeter away from the alien’s nest of roots/tentacles.

Caught by surprise, Gretchen could only issue a belated, “be careful.” Then it was the alien’s turn to do something unexpected. It reached out with one of its roots and touched Isbjørn’s armored paw. Immediately, Isbjørn’s ears perked up. “I’m getting some form of signal from my suit radio,” she reported.

“Peggy Sue, are you getting the signal that Isbjørn is hearing?”

“Yes, Commander. Would you like me to attempt a translation?”

“Affirmative, Peggy Sue. Please broadcast the translation to the entire shore party.”

“As far as I can interpret that last burst, the creature in front of you is known as NatHanGon the Almost Wise. They are designated as an ambassador to our peoples and will serve as a conduit for all communication between us and the conclaves of the world.”

“Nathan Gone the Almost Wise?”

“Nat-Han-Gon, three distinct syllables, possibly corresponding to the three sub-intelligences that comprise the being as a whole. An approximate verbatim translation would be: ‘We are put forth as ambassador to your peoples; We greet you in peace as fellow sapients; We are known as NatHanGon the Almost Wise.’”

“Do they always speak in triplets like that?” asked Ludmilla.

“The Ambassador’s speech patterns are consistent with the message beamed to the ship earlier. I would suspect that each sub-intelligence contributes a part of each statement. Might I suggest framing a reply using a similar linguistic structure?”

“Sure,” replied Gretchen. “Use my opening statement and tack on another sentence. How about ‘we come from the ship orbiting your planet’?”

“As you wish, Commander.” There was a brief, multi-harmonic burst followed by an immediate reply. “The Ambassador says: We greet the fellow scholars of dirt; May our understanding be elevated; Where else would you have come from?”

The last part of the reply took Gretchen by surprise and caused Ludmilla to laugh out loud. Even Isbjørn snorted, the polar bear equivalent of a short laugh. “I guess I walked into that one,” Gretchen said.

“Dirt?” asked Isbjørn.

“Sorry,” replied the ship’s computer, “too literal a translation of Earth.”

“Interesting, they always seem to refer to themselves in the plural—we not I,” said Ludmilla.

“Well, they seem quite literal and a bit sarcastic,” Isbjørn said.

“We should explain that we are still working on translation,” added Ludmilla.

“And that sometimes we state the obvious for lack of an original thought,” ended Gretchen.

Another tonal outburst issued from their suit radios.

“You sent that?” exclaimed Gretchen, her last remark was directed at her companions, not the Ambassador.

“Yes, Commander. I thought that was what you intended. In any case, the Ambassador replies: We are sometimes thought to be insufficiently tactful; We also struggle with information translation; We generally remain silent when lacking something to say, which can also be misinterpreted.”

“I think I like this Ambassador. It, I mean, they have a sense of humor,” said Ludmilla.

“Bears have always valued honesty and candor,” said Isbjørn.

“I think this conversation is going to take a while,” summed up Gretchen.

The computer automatically translated the reply: “Our initial impressions are also positive; Is our assumption that you represent more than one species correct? We have no place else to be, take your time…”

* * * * *

Five hours later and the conversation was still in progress. NatHanGon proved loquacious with a dry, acerbic wit. Isbjørn, Ludmilla and Gretchen were getting well practiced at simulating a triad, or at least a triad’s speech pattern. Information flows rapidly when it is possible to hold three related, yet independent conversations simultaneously. Among the Earthlings, triad had become the universal name for the ternary aliens. In conversation, the ship’s computer was trusted to substitute a term acceptable to the beings themselves.

Among the things discovered was that the triads were an old race, possibly as old as six billion Earth years. They were also long lived individually. NatHanGon was considered a youngster at only 800,000 solar orbits, around 147,000 Earth years, while elders could claim ten million orbits or more. It was humbling to meet a race that had evolved before the solar system formed and individual creatures that were alive at the beginning of the Pleistocene Ice Age. Even the youthful ambassador was alive before the previous interglacial period started, before
H. sapiens
and
U. maritimus
had fully evolved.

On a more intimate level, questions by Dr. Li and Dr. Tropsha revealed that the triads were tri-sexual, triplet beings formed by one member each of three distinct sexes. Once linked by their motile roots, the merged partners reproduced by cross pollination. As a result, the fused being was functionally hermaphroditic and fully capable of reproducing on its own.

When Olaf was told about the triad’s sexual arrangements he said, “this is fantastic! Hermaphroditism is uncommon among multicellular animals.”

“True, we tend to think of hermaphroditic creatures being rather primitive, or less evolved,” Sally said. “Sponges, worms, certain molluscs and, of course, the majority of plants are hermaphroditic.”

“Hermaphroditism is useful if one’s sexual options are severely limited and it can be favored when encounters with potential mates are extremely rare,” he replied, over the comm link from the ship. “Animals with low or unpredictable population densities and those that are immobile or have poor senses are often hermaphroditic. It makes little sense for a species to invest heavily in developing two sexes if mating competition is low. Better to maximize one’s evolutionary capital by evolving other, more direct survival traits.”

“Most hermaphrodites still need to find at least one mate during their lifetimes,” added Ludmilla. “The potential genetic cost of inbreeding leads to most not being able to self pollinate. But the triads are not primitive, unevolved organisms: they are social, capable of long-distance communication and are not immobile—slow yes, immobile no.”

“They would certainly be able to arrange for a liaison for breeding purposes,” noted Olaf. “But as it stands, every triad is its own threesome.”

“Olaf, you are a dirty old biologist,” teased Ludmilla, a big smile on her face. Discovering this one species alone meant that all of them would be celebrities in their fields back home. Visions of Nobel Prizes danced in their heads.

“The Ambassador hinted that including one or more partners from other triads can be done, though it isn’t that common,” Sally went on. “Moreover, I get the distinct impression that our two sexes amuse them. Particularly once the sexual dimorphism among the polar bears was revealed.”

“The sexual what?” asked Isbjørn. Not being widely read in the biological sciences, she missed that item during the previous interchanges.

“The size differences between males and females,” answered Ludmilla. “Humans exhibit the same tendencies, if to a lesser degree than polar bears. It has been tied to competition for mating and a lack of lifetime pair bonding.”

“I think we bears need to work on that in the future,” Isbjørn replied with a thoughtful look.

Sally, who was still trying to decide if NatHanGon could be classified as a plant, ignored the exchange between Ludmilla and Isbjørn. “They are definitely multicellular and, from the sample scraping that the Ambassador kindly permitted, they appear to be eukaryotic. But they do not use photosynthesis, at least not as we know it on Earth.”

“They do derive energy directly from sunlight, but at lower frequencies, down into the infrared band,” said Olaf. “It may not be the same mechanism used by Earth plants, but I think that it is close enough to say that the triads are, indeed, plants.”

“Right,” said Ludmilla. “triple brained, intelligent, mobile, tri-sexual, hermaphroditic plants billions of years more evolved than
Homo sapiens
.”

“Ya, that’s about the size of it,” agreed Olaf. “I can’t wait to meet them in person…”

CIC, Peggy Sue

Olaf, JT, Chief Engineer Medina and the Captain were gathered around the central display tank that formed the heart of the CIC’s data visualization system. The tank was a two by one meter table, above which a full color, holographic display created moving 3D data representations. Currently, it displayed a realistic, scale model view of the scene on the planet below, where the shore expedition was still in “negotiations” with the triad ambassador.

“You are saying that the Ambassador wishes to go with us on the ship, Commander?” asked the Captain, incredulity seeping in around the edges of his question.

“That is correct, Captain,” replied Gretchen, still standing with Isbjørn and Ludmilla in front of the alien representative. “They say that there are many questions that must be answered regarding our… pedigree. And, more importantly, our future in the grand scheme of things.”