3 — The Aliens Are Coming!

I stood amongst the crowd outside the Crash & Burn, watching as the amazing, beautiful spaceship descended from the atmosphere. The legs of the ship lowered and it landed gently on the ground, kicking up hardly any dust. The spaceship was a model of elegance, especially in comparison to the Phoenix, which after all was a converted Titan V missile.

I moved quietly away from the crowd, feeling the weight of their emotions too much to cope with, and made my way to the side of the spaceship. Were humans really ready for living proof of extra-terrestrials? We were still recovering from World War Three, and we'd nearly succeeded in bombing ourselves into oblivion.

There'd been those rumors in the 20th century about aliens called 'Fren-gee' being held at Area 51 in New Mexico, but no-one with any sense had given those rumors any serious thought. Besides, any alien who landed here would probably just end up being dissected.

I looked at the spaceship, admiring its lines and rich red color. Words appeared in a strange angular script on its side — the name of the ship, perhaps? Did they think like us? Or, more correctly, did we think like them?

The hatchway opened and a figure emerged from the craft. Wearing long, elaborate robes with a hood, he was definitely not human, but not so alien as to be unacceptable. In fact, upon closer examination, he was very handsome, with coal black hair, a strong chin and eyebrows that swept upward.

He removed his hood, to reveal elegantly-pointed ears, somewhat like a leprechaun's. However, his dignified carriage and aristocratic bearing ensured that he carried them off well, and he didn't look at all ridiculous.

Zee — for once, looking sane — squeezed Lily's hand for moral support, then left the group and approached the alien.

The man … alien … whatever … stepped off the ramp and held up his fingers and thumb to form two vee signs. "Live long … and prosper," he said in flawless English. He had a wonderful speaking voice, and it made me wonder what he could do with Shakespeare.

Zee tried to imitate the gesture, but gave in and presented his hand for a good old-fashioned hand-shake. "Uh … you too," he said.

I felt the alien's discomfort but as soon as the emotion appeared it was suppressed. This being had come who knew how many light years to get here, and he wasn't going to let our strangeness stop him from meeting us.

I liked that. After so many centuries of humans knocking seven kinds of hell out of each other for the crime of simply being different, it was nice to meet a being who embraced the notion of diversity.

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I hovered outside the Crash & Burn, watching the aliens — now three of them — sip politely at the moonshine while Zee talked a mile a minute. Nice people, but extremely uptight by human standards. Although they seemed interested in us, and wanted to help us, they had yet to crack a smile. Yet for all that, they didn't seem stiff-necked … just different.

Several minutes earlier, Zee had assaulted their ears with his 20th century rock 'n' roll, but he'd realized quickly enough that perhaps that wasn't the best way to do first contact. Now, they were sitting round learning about each other's differences and similarities.

I made my way into the Crash & Burn and headed for the bar, wanting to learn more about these aliens — Vulcans, I corrected — but not wanting to be bombarded by Zee's erratic emotions. I leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of water — I was not a drinker — and sat down, listening to the conversation with great interest.

Zee looked up from his drink — untouched by a miracle — and waved at me. "Charlie!" he called. "Come join us!"

Shoring up my shields, I made my way over, and sat down next to the handsome Vulcan who'd first greeted Zee. "Welcome to Earth," I said politely, not attempting to shake hands.

The man dipped his head. "Thank you," he replied.

"What made you pass through this way?" I asked. "As I understand our star charts, this planet's a bit off the beaten track for casual travelers."

"Charlie!" Zee said, sounding mortified. "Mind your own damn business!"

The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow. "Curiosity is not a flaw, Doctor Cochrane," he commented. He turned back to me, his interest evidently engaged by my question. "You are correct … Charlie," he added. "However, we have been observing humanity's progress over the last century. When we detected the Phoenix's warp trail and realized that you had learned how to travel faster than the speed of light, we decided that the time was right to make contact."

"You think we've made progress?" I blurted out. "All I've known is war, deprivation and misery."

"You have shown that you are ready to accept the possibility of intelligent life other than your own," the female Vulcan replied. "We will not make contact with sentient species that have not achieved a certain level of development, as it may … do more harm than good."

I nodded my head. "Yeah; I suppose so," I said. "We've gotten over some of our problems, but we've got a long way to go yet."

The Vulcan male lifted his eyebrow again — I loved that gesture. "You may have a long way to go, but you acknowledge this." He nodded toward my water. "You do not consume alcohol … Charlie?"

"No," I said. "My dad … drank a lot, so I've got that whole codependency thing to work out." God only knows what was making me bare my soul to a complete stranger, but something told me that this alien would not judge me.

By now Zee had moved away and was chatting to Lily — if the conversation wasn't about him, he really wasn't interested — leaving me and the three Vulcans at the table. It would seem natural to assume that I was overawed by this experience, but the truth was that these beings were remarkably easy to interact with. I wasn't bombarded by stray emotions, and they were intelligent and very restful at the same time. What was not to like?

"I am curious," the Vulcan female said.

"Shoot," I said.

The eyebrow quirked upward. "Shoot?" she repeated.

"Sorry; human slang," I said rapidly. "I just meant go ahead."

"I see," the female responded. "Everyone we have met so far has greeted us with this hand-clasping ritual. Why have you not done the same?"

I shrugged and took a gulp of cool water. "It struck me that you were uncomfortable with it, so why make you do it? If we're going to be part of a larger galactic community" — strange words, those, for a species who'd taken such pride in their solitude for so long — "then we're going to have to realize that people have different customs to us."

The handsome Vulcan male — I'd learned from gossip that his name was Sutak — raised an eyebrow. "Vulcans do not express their emotions," he commented. "You must learn not to project your own emotions onto others."

I frowned at the rebuke — albeit mild. "You may not express your emotions, but you have them all the same," I pointed out snippily. Something about these people emboldened me to add. "I felt something from you when Zee stuck his hand out at you. It was buried quickly, but you were definitely uneasy."

Sutak raised both his eyebrows. "You are very observant, Charlie," he said. "Humans do have the potential for a limited extra-sensory perception, but this is the first evidence we have seen of it."

"ESP?" I shook my head. "I can't read people's minds or predict the future. I just … seem to be sensitive to emotions."

"And this … troubles you?" the female asked.

"Wouldn't it you?" I said. "Imagine being constantly battered by other people's emotions — I had to learn to block it years ago, otherwise I would've gone nuts." I sighed and slumped into my seat. "It's very tiring my curse. But you three are different … you're very restful."

"Charlie," Sutak said gently — maybe even compassionately — "you are not cursed. The name for your ability is empathy. Many species have this ability to varying degrees and, like you, have learned coping techniques."

"Well, it's nice to know I'm not a freak," I said lightly, uncomfortable with the tears that had sprung to my eyes at their instant acceptance. "Anyway, how about a bit of reciprocity? Why are you so uncomfortable with touching people? Was it just Zee? I know he comes across like a lunatic, but he's essentially harmless."

The three Vulcans exchanged glances, then Sutak dipped his head. "Vulcans are touch-telepaths," he informed me. "We have the ability to read people's thoughts when we come into physical contact with them."

"Whoa." I slumped backward as I realized what Sutak must have gone through having touched so many people over the last few hours. "And I thought I had it bad. How d'you cope?" Then I slapped my forehead, chagrined at my own stupidity. "Duh; you just told me. You have your coping techniques and you suppress your emotions."

The Vulcans exchanged glances again, making me think that maybe they didn't need to touch to communicate telepathically with each other. The female and other male stood up. "We must return to the T'Plana-Hath, Commander," the male said.

"Of course," Sutak replied. "Send a subspace message to the High Command and inform them that I will be submitting a full report within the day."

"T'Plana-Hath," I repeated, letting the alien syllables dance over my tongue and mangling the words horribly no doubt. "Is that a person's name? We sometimes name our vessels after famous people. You do the same?"

"Indeed," Sutak said as the other two left the Crash & Burn. "T'Plana-Hath is a matron of Vulcan philosophy. She said that logic is the cement of our civilization with which we ascend from chaos using reason as our guide."

I was impressed by this. After centuries of humanity giving in to their baser instincts, the idea of reason and logic appealed to me. "It takes a strong man to follow logic," I said. Then I sighed heavily. "You really are very different to us. Why would you want anything to do with us?"

If my incessant questions were annoying him, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he took a gizmo from his cavernous pocket and pushed at some buttons. It looked like early 21st century technology — when handheld electronic organizers had been popular — but much more sophisticated. A symbol appeared on the screen — a silver circle with a simple gold three-dee triangle protruding an angle. The angular script appeared underneath. "Huh?" I said blankly. "I don't read Vulcan."

"I will render this into your language," Sutak said, and tapped at more buttons. Immediately the script changed to five words: Infinite Diversity In Infinite Combinations. "This and logic are the tenets of Vulcan civilization," he informed me.

"Words to live by," I commented, and clinked my bottle against the Vulcan's barely touched glass. "Here's to infinite diversity," I added.

He raised his eyebrow. "Indeed," he replied.

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It was now more than a week since the Vulcans had landed, and we'd met nearly all of them from the ship by this point. However, I still found that Sutak was the most approachable of them. Maybe it was his calm logic that soothed me, but I couldn't deny that I found him physically and intellectually stimulating too. As a result, I was very careful not to touch him — he would only be made uncomfortable by my growing attraction. I wasn't ready to call it love, yet — he was from a different species, for pete's sake! — but the attraction couldn't be denied.

I stepped out of my Quonset hut as I saw Sutak standing there. For the last few days, we'd met and gone walking in the woods. I'd learned that Vulcan was a desert planet, and the rich vegetationhere was something of a curiosity to him. "Good morning," I said politely.

"Good morning," he replied.

"Have you heard from the High Command yet?" I asked, falling briskly into step beside him as we made our way up the hill. His ship's doctor had treated me for the radiation poisoning I'd gotten from the Phoenix's damaged throttle assembly, and I felt better than I had in years.

"Indeed," he said. "My report was received favorably, and we have been authorized to pursue further relations with your people."

"That's good," I said. "At least it means I get to enjoy your company for a while longer." I blushed and could have kicked myself. "I mean; emotionally, you're like a still pond for me. It's very restful. And you make me think. I've missed good conversation — since the war, everyone's priority has gone into pure and simple survival."

He cocked his eyebrow. "You are an intelligent being, Charlotte," he said. I usually resented being called by my full name, but it sounded right coming from the austere Vulcan. "In many ways, you would make an acceptable Vulcan."

"Thank you."

He dipped his head. "Some humans would not consider that a compliment," he pointed out with unfortunate perspicacity. Sutak and his colleagues were sorely misunderstood by a few of us. Their reserve was taken as superciliousness, and their understandable reluctance to give us technology was resented by Zee and his cronies, who wanted everything to happen right now.

"I choose to take it in the spirit it was intended," I said. "Besides, if you and the rest of your crew are typical of your species, then I like Vulcans."

"Thank you, Charlotte," he replied solemnly.

"Some Vulcans wouldn't consider that a compliment," I said slyly.

The eyebrow tilted again, and a gleam came into his eyes — that little twinkle that indicated amusement. It was very faint, but I'd gotten to know him pretty well the last few days. "I choose to take it in the spirit it was intended," he said. Just a couple days ago, he would've stated didactically that he wasn't capable of taking compliments. His sense of humor was coming out.

"Sutak." I paused suddenly. "I was reading that Vulcan literature you gave me last night about the Surakian movement. What happened to the splinter group? Did they recant?"

Sutak looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. "They did not," he said. "They left Vulcan more than two thousand years ago and colonized two planets at the other end of the quadrant. They have a violent and emotional culture, with a martial philosophy."

"Sounds like most of humanity," I said, regretting my question. "You should just tell me to mind my own business if I go too far," I added.

"It would not be logical for me to resent honest curiosity," he replied. A beeping from his pocket indicated that someone was trying to call him. He removed a small com-con and flipped the mesh covering open. "Sutak," he said.

A short conversation followed, in Vulcan of course, then Sutak closed the com-con and put it back in his robe. "Forgive me, Charlotte, but I must curtail our walk today. My presence is required on the T'Plana-Hath."

"Okay," I said casually. "Another time, perhaps?"

A flicker of an unidentifiable emotion skittered over Sutak's face, and was gone just as quickly. "Perhaps you would like to visit the T'Plana-Hath," he said. "I would be interested in your views."

"I'm no scientist, Sutak," I replied. "I'm not likely to see anything I understand. Wouldn't … I d'know … Lily or Zee be more suitable?"

"They have visited already," Sutak said. "If humans are to join the galactic community, then it is only logical that all of you see how we live and work."

"You gotta love logic," I replied. "Lay on, MacDuff," I added with a dramatic gesture.

The little twinkle appeared in his dark eyes once again, and I was inordinately glad I'd amused him.

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I followed Sutak's slim frame up the ramp into the T'Plana-Hath — the first thing I noticed was the heat. "Whoa!" I gasped, fanning my face. "Hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk!" It was funny, but visiting this ship was the first thing that made me realize that, although they looked very similar to us, they were actually aliens.

Sutak gave me a peculiar look, then comprehension dawned. "Do you wish to leave the ship?" he asked. "I had forgotten that humans have difficulty with Vulcan temperatures."

"Oh, I like the heat usually," I said quickly. I indicated my jacket, sweater, jeans and heavy boots. "I'm not exactly dressed right, though."

"You may leave your outer garments here while you tour the ship," he said politely.

"I thought you'd never ask," I said. I wriggled out of my jacket, then pulled my sweater over my head, leaving my hair in disarray. For years, I'd been thinking about getting it cut, but I'd never been able to persuade myself into actually doing it. "That's better," I sighed, stretching my arms high above my head.

"You should be more comfortable now," Sutak commented. He nodded toward a very young Vulcan who was striding past, and the young man came over to us. "Setal; this is Charlotte. You will show her around the T'Plana-Hath and answer any questions she may have."

"Yes, Commander," Setal replied. He held up his hand, Vulcan-style. "Live long and prosper," he said.

"Peace and long life," I responded, returning the gesture. Unlike poor Zee, who still hadn't gotten the hang of the greeting, it came very easily to me.

Setal's eyebrow rose in a very similar manner to that of Sutak's, making me wonder if they were related in some way. "You have become acquainted with our customs," he said as Sutak strode away down the corridor.

I watched him go for a second, then turned back to the youngster. Although he looked to be about my age, the longer lifespan of Vulcans probably meant that he was the equivalent of a pre-adolescent. "Some of them," I agreed cautiously. "I don't claim to be any kind of expert. Hell, I could probably study Vulcans all my life and never come close to understanding them."

"I suppose that would be so," he said, his eyes shifting away from me. There was something … odd about this young man. He seemed so edgy for a Vulcan. But, then again, I reasoned, if he was as young as I thought, maybe I was his first alien. All the same, I vowed to keep my senses on alert. Although things had gone well so far, that didn't mean it couldn't all go down the crapper in ten minutes.