Their Kind

Part One

As Mork and Mindy strolled across the Boulder mall on a sweltering, miserable summer day, they passed a toddler in a stroller who had lost the contents of her ice cream cone, the remnants of the frozen treat splattered and melting into a sugary, sticky puddle on the sidewalk. The little girl was visibly distraught over her loss, bawling loudly and kicking her chubby legs in a frantic attempt to try to retrieve it. The girl's mother appeared to be distracted, talking to a friend and oblivious to her daughter's suffering. Upset over the mother's neglect and sensitive to the child's distressed cries, Mork sought to help her. Making sure first that no one was watching, he used his powers, re-freezing the ice cream into a perfectly compact ball and gently lifting it back onto the cone. The child didn't seem to find anything unusual about ice cream floating in the air and resting on top of the cone, although Mindy reacted with horror, hoping no one would witness the bizarre sight, wishing that Mork would exercise more caution and restraint. The child smiled and looked up at Mork, giggling with delight. He returned the smile, gently placing his hand on her wispy blond pigtails to comfort her. Satisfied that his task was complete, he wrapped his arm around Mindy's and led the way as they continued down the sidewalk as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Mindy watched him as they walked, impressed. "You were really kind to that little girl back there," she said.

"Well, I just feel children deserve to be treated with as much respect as any other life form," he said, smiling contentedly. "On Ork, children don't receive any love or attention. When we're young, we're warehoused and treated with the strictest of discipline, since the objective is for us to grow up and continue the progress of our civilization."

"You mean, no one is allowed to play?"

"No, play is forbidden because it is associated with emotions. So is daydreaming or having any kind of notions about what you want to do when you grow up, since your life is already predetermined for you."

"Sounds awful."

Mork stared ahead ruefully. "It is," he said, sighing. "Since I was born with emotions, it was twice as hard for me. I was constantly being disciplined for behaving like an Earth child, for having fun. Orkan discipline is harsh, too."

Mindy noticed his visible shudder, so she didn't ask him to elaborate, noticing how discussing it had already brought up enough disturbing memories for him.

"Tell me Mork, are all societies across the universe as punitive and strict as they are on Ork?" She asked.

"Not all," he said. "Some are actually quite pleasant. Some are far worse."

"Worse? Really? I can't imagine anything worse than living under such an authoritarian regime as you seem to have on Ork."

He looked at her, his eyes intense. "There is worse," he said. "I've seen it."

Deep Space—Several Years Earlier

Mork's spacecraft hurtled through the sky, rolling and tumbling, jostling his body around as if he were inside an enormous washing machine on a rapid spin cycle. He had lost power earlier, and he fought desperately to regain control, the craft spinning wildly as it entered the atmosphere of some unknown planet, flames shooting from its sides, the heat becoming intense and unbearable. He heard a loud crack as it began to break apart. Struggling to orient himself as he continued to spin in sickening, rapid loops, he tried to hold the shattering pieces of the craft together, but the shell was so hot that it burned his hands and he had to let go, his efforts useless. Another loud crack erupted as the craft broke completely in half. Mork tried to hold on as tightly as he could, but he lost his grip and was ejected from the craft, his body flung several feet away where he landed with a sharp, hard impact that knocked him unconscious and shattered several of his bones, leaving him in a twisted, bloodied heap. As extensive as his injuries were, he was spared the further torment—and certain death—of the fiery, mangled debris that was all that remained of his craft after it exploded.

As he lay there, helpless and fractured, a small, peculiar creature that resembled a cross between a goldfish and a parrot approached him cautiously, looking at the blazing wreckage in the distance. Instinctively knowing that Mork needed help, the creature began to work on him, binding his wounds and setting his bones as expertly as any doctor on Earth would, stabilizing him and putting his broken leg and arm in splints the creature manufactured out of nearby tree branches. The creature covered his broken body with a blanket of leaves it wove together, trying to make Mork as comfortable as possible and prevent him from going into shock. During this process, Mork stirred and moaned pitiably, his glazed, unfocused eyes opening to slits as he looked around, struggling to make sense of what happened, disoriented and lost in the fog of delirium. When he saw the creature he cried out some incomprehensible gibberish, thinking he was being attacked. He tried to move and screamed in pain when he realized how badly he was injured. The creature hovered over him, staring at him, and he gaped at the being in terror, mumbling and waving his good arm in the air, weakly trying to defend himself. In response to his struggles, the creature spoke reassuringly to him, although it was in a language that Mork didn't understand. The creature put a leaf over Mork's mouth and two others over his eyes, pressing them gently while still whispering comforting words in its native language. Mork tried to remove them, but he found himself weakening the moment the leaves touched him, his excruciating pain leaving him until he felt that he was floating on a soft, comforting bed, lulling him back into a pleasant sleep.

When he regained consciousness, he found a man sitting beside him, stirring the embers of a fire with a stick. He was a pleasant, large, and cheerful looking man with a full head of white hair and a white beard, wearing glasses and looking like a dignified, professorial version of Santa Clause. He was dressed in some kind of white suit that Mork imagined must have at one time been immaculate, but was now faded, torn, and yellowed with age. Mork tried to speak to him, but all that he could manage was a faint whimper. In response to his plaintive cry, the man looked at him and smiled, offering him leaves like the ones the strange creature had placed over his mouth and eyes before he lost consciousness. The man got very close to him, brushing the leaves gently across his lips, trying to coax him to open them.

"Eat these," the man insisted, still pressing them against Mork's mouth. "They will ease the pain."

Unsure whether he could trust the stranger, but feeling too weak and in pain to protest, Mork opened his mouth, accepting the man's help as he fed him the leaves, his body too broken and damaged to feed himself, leaving him even unable to prop himself upright. He was completely helpless and at the mercy of this man who he hoped had only good intentions. He tried to thank him when he finished eating, but he still found himself incapable of speech, his lips moving silently as he gazed up at the man.

The man smiled cheerily at him as if he understood. "You're an Orkan, aren't you?" He asked.

Mork nodded.

"So am I," the man said. "I came to this godforsaken planet a long time ago. I didn't choose to, of course. The superiors made up my mind for me."

"Exile?" Mork managed to croak.

The man smiled and shook his head. "No, it was nothing like that," he said. "I didn't like the direction our society was going, so I voluntarily left. I crash landed on this planet many bleams ago, and I've been stuck here since." He looked at the charred remains of Mork's spacecraft in the distance. "It looks like you experienced the same difficulty. It turns out this planet has a rather unstable atmosphere, and many other visitors have crashed here before. It turns out you and I are the only ones to have survived the impact."

The strange creature that had rescued Mork from the crash reappeared, chirping in the agitated gibberish of its native language. The man seemed to know it, exchanging words with it before returning to Mork.

"If it wasn't for Nimu here, I don't know how I would have managed to survive at all," he said, affectionately rubbing the creature's head. "He has extensive knowledge about how to live off the land, and he showed me how to do the same. Of course, it's not as if he had much of a choice." The man looked resignedly into the distance, suddenly pensive.

Mork's eyes followed him, observing him. "You…you don't seem…"

"What? Like an Orkan?" The man asked, looking back at Mork. He laughed heartily. "No, I guess I don't, but that's why I left. If I may say so, you don't seem like much of an Orkan, either. Why were you out exploring the galaxy all alone?"

Mork licked his lips and swallowed. "Long…story," he said faintly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

The man shrugged. "Yeah, it usually is," he said. "Your story is long, Nimu's is long, and so is mine." He looked at Mork's broken body with great sympathy. Gently, he pulled the blanket woven from leaves over him, noticing that he was shivering. "We have a long time to discuss our stories, it seems. Your injuries will take some time to heal. I'm afraid I don't have access to the advanced medical equipment we have on Ork. Fortunately, Nimu is quite skilled in that area. He did an excellent job setting your bones. It looks like they should heal without any complications." He gently squeezed Mork's unbroken arm as if to reassure him. "By the way, my name is Orion. What's yours?"

"Mork."

Orion paused. He studied Mork carefully for some time before speaking again. "Your name is Mork?" He asked.

Mork nodded.

"Oh…"

"What is it?"

Orion smiled. "Mork," he said. "I know you."

"I…don't see how. I don't know you. I've never…even seen you before."

"Of course you haven't. You wouldn't remember me. I wouldn't expect you to."

"Then…how do you know me?"

"Mork, I was in the laboratory the day you were designed," Orion said. "I know you…because I was the one who created you."