RETURN TO EARTH
by Steven L.
Schiff
Juxial Yavin's company
chartered the Spaceship Yimitn to travel fifty-two light-cycles for a few thousand units
of fresh honey. Juxial was glad she had convinced her employers to spend the time and
money on an interstellar voyage with this objective. Honey was scarce on her home world
due to the near-extinction of the honeybee species, and people were willing to pay top
price for the product.
Ferran Dulcet, the pilot of
the rented craft, thought the trip was an unnecessary indulgence. Even now, with their
destination just around the stellar corner, he had not changed his opinion. As he sat with
Juxial after dinner in the comfort of the ship's galley, he bluntly expressed his point of
view.
"Now, if you were in
the market for advanced weapons, I'd pilot you to this Earth planet without a second
thought," he said as he sipped from a cup of hot moccol. "But you're going there
for a luxury item. I can't imagine anything more frivolous."
"Still, you put honey
in your moccol, just now," Juxial replied. "The sweet stuff is important to
you."
"I put honey in my
moccol because we have honey to put in my moccol," he replied. "If it wasn't
available, I'd just drink my moccol straight, and I wouldn't give it a second
thought."
Ferran's stoic, macho
attitude always made Juxial angry, but deep down, she knew that he was deliberately trying
to elicit that emotion from her. "What is it with pilots?" she asked. "Why
do you think it's okay to do just about anything for weapons, and why do you think
anything and everything else is a waste of time?"
"Because, that's just
the way it is," he said. He winked at Juxial, his way of telling her that he didn't
totally believe his own arguments. "But are you really going to this planet for the
honey, or do you have--uh--let's call them 'ulterior motives'?"
"What do you
mean?" she asked, although she knew exactly what he meant. They were due to enter
orbit around the planet Earth in a very short while, and Ferran saw this night's
discussion as one of his last opportunities to tease and question Juxial on a personal
matter.
"You were on the first
expedition to Earth, right?"
Juxial stared down into her
own cup of moccol to avoid eye contact with her friendly tormentor. "You know I
was," she said. "You know that I've been my company's senior star-traveller for
nine full cycles."
"Yes, that's right.
And didn't you meet a young Earthian named--uh--now what was his name?"
"You know very well
that his name is Worec and--no--I didn't want to go back to Earth just for him, but, yes,
I do want to see him again. Is that so terrible?"
"Oh, of course not. Of
course not!" Ferran said.
Juxial looked up, saw
Ferran smiling at her, and blushed to the roots of her strawberry-blonde hair.
"You're impossible, you know that?"
Ferran batted his
eyelashes. "Who me?" he asked.
Juxial tried to think of a
snappy come-back, but found herself at a loss for words. She was relieved when inter-ship
communications interrupted their conversation. The wall speaker crackled with electronic
distortion as the voice of the ship's navigator poured into the room.
"Ferran, we're within
visual range of Earth and--well, I don't see their orbital bays anywhere. And without the
bays, we'll have to use engine power to maintain orbit," Perrad Dimons said.
"Hold on,
Perrad," Ferran replied. He turned to Juxial and, from the expression on his face,
she knew that her jovial comrade now had only business on his mind. "Juxial, the bid
we gave your company was based on the presence of orbital bays. If we need ship's power to
maintain orbit, we'll have to charge an additional fee."
"The bays were in
place when we were here, two cycles ago. I don't see how they could have just disappeared
from space," Juxial replied. Nervously, she put her hand to her mouth and began to
chew on a nail.
"Ferran, I think you
should get up here," Perrad said. "This planet isn't at all what we
expected."
"Juxial, come with
me," Ferran said. "Let's see what he's talking about."
Juxial followed as Ferran
left the galley, passed through narrow corridors, and entered the ship's cramped main
bridge.
#
Two cycles earlier, Juxial
had left a planet with five orbital bays for space craft, a brand-new, luxury-equipped
space station, and a large interstellar array for sending/receiving data from alien races.
Now, the planet's orbit was bare, as if the Earth population had never developed
space-flight technology. "Are you sure this is Earth? Did you double-check the
coordinates?" Ferran asked.
"Ferran, I'm not a
rookie. I know how to navigate this ship to the correct destination. That is the planet
Earth. No doubt about it."
"It does look like
Earth," Juxial said. She walked close to the view-screen and pointed with tiny
fingers. "Notice the brownish coloring in the continents and the blue-green of the
oceans. Also, the cities seem to all be in the right places."
"So, what happened on
this planet? Some kind of war?" Ferran asked.
"How would I
know?" Perrad asked with a touch of irritation in his voice.
"It was a rhetorical
question, Perrad," Ferran replied. "Juxial, I told you that you should have
given the Earthians an estimated return date when you were here the first time. It would
have been better if they'd been expecting us."
"That argument doesn't
hold water. Sure, they weren't given an exact return date. But, I wasn't the only
representative of a private company on that trip. After our government reps had finished
their negotiations with the Earthians, at least five civilian groups met with Earthian
firms and discussed trade issues. The Earthians were told to expect a private ship, like
this one, in the very near future." Juxial said. "So, what do we do, now?"
she asked.
"Assuming you
understand the extra costs . . ."
"Don't worry about the
money. My company will reimburse you."
"Fine. First we enter
orbit, make contact with these people, and tell them we want to send a shuttle to the
surface," Ferran said. "Then, when we're face to face, we ask them why they no
longer have an orbital presence."
Ferran and Perrad began to
ease the ship into orbit, a lengthy process which took a full chrono-cycle. Once the
Yimitn was safely circling the planet, Perrad began to push buttons on his communications
console. "Since they no longer have an orbital array, we have to try and communicate
with them through their ground-based audio."
"I'm going to shut off
the engines and save a bit of fuel. We don't need the power. It'll be a good while before
our orbit starts to decay," Ferran said as he sat in front of a power console.
"Perrad, the
information on their ground communications technology is in the main computer,"
Juxial said.
"I know. I've already
accessed it," Perrad replied. "Okay, I've isolated an active radio channel.
Ferran, send a message."
Ferran cleared his throat
and spoke in a calm, clear voice. "This is the Spaceship Yimitn, on a trade mission
from the planet Jestin. We'd like to speak to someone who can give us clearance for a
shuttle landing. Please respond."
Perrad pushed a few buttons
to translate the message into English, the planet's dominant language. Then, they waited.
Juxial looked through her prospective trade agreement. Ferran read a manual on engine
maintenance while Perrad played two entire hands of a solo card game. Still, there was no
answer to their query. Ferran shot Juxial an angry look, as if she were to blame for the
Earthian's unresponsiveness. In an effort to break his stare, Juxial moved to the rear of
the bridge and sat down in a chair.
Finally, Ferran shoved his
hands in his pockets and edged toward his navigator. "Perrad, set me up to resend
that message," he said.
"No problem,"
Perrad replied. "Go ahead."
"This is Ferran Dulcet
of the Spaceship Yimitn from the planet Jestin. We need clearance for a shuttle landing.
Please respond."
This time, the travellers
did not have long to wait. A missile appeared from the surface of the planet and quickly
grew to giant size on the viewscreen.
"Yikes," Perrad
said. "We're unarmed, Ferran."
"Uh--our view is
magnified by ten, right?" Juxial asked.
"At the speed that
missile is travelling, it will be here in a micro-cycle," Ferran said in a loud,
excited voice. He sat down at the power console and quick-started his engines. "Get
us out of here, navigator."
The missile now filled the
viewscreen, obliterating stars, sky and planet. The engines came on-line and the bridge
rocked, violently. Loose objects fell off tables and clattered to the floor. Juxial's
throat filled with vomit as Perrad pulled a lever and the ship lurched out of orbit. She
looked toward the screen in time to see the giant missile pass out of view, followed by a
wake of glittering particles.
"That was close,
Ferran," Perrad said in a quivering voice. "Too close for my taste," the
pilot replied. "How do you feel, Juxial?"
Juxial tried to speak but
the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Her lungs refused to take in air, and her hands shook
like a leaf on a windy evening in autumn. She tried to stand, then lost her balance and
fell hard to the floor.
#
Juxial lay on her bed with
a fluffy pillow behind her head and tried to settle her stomach through sheer willpower.
She took deep breaths and stared at the dull, metal ceiling of her cramped quarters.
Ferran rapped at her open door, and poked his head around the entrance.
"May I come in?"
he asked with a pleasant smile. His face held no trace of the anger that was evident
during the missile attack.
"So, you're talking to
me, again?" she asked.
"I never stopped
talking to you, Juxial. Now, may I come in, please?"
"Sure. Come in,"
she said. "But beware, I'm still not feeling very well."
Ferran moved into the room,
a full glass of liquid in his hand.
"What's that?"
"Well, since you lost
most of your breakfast on the floor of the bridge, I thought I'd bring you a fizzy potion
for your stomach."
"Sorry for the
mess."
"S'okay. Perrad and
Cookie are cleaning it up."
Juxial took the glass from
his hand and drank down the liquid in two big gulps. "I feel sorry for Perrad and
Cookie," she said.
Ferran sat on the edge of
the bed and took the empty glass from Juxial's hands. "We'll make the dimensional
jump back to Jestin as soon as we reset the navigational coordinates," he said.
"Try to get some sleep, and we'll be home before you know it."
Juxial sat bolt upright on
the bed. "Ferran, we can't go back to Jestin, now. We have to make contact with the
Earthians."
Ferran raised a curious
eyebrow. "Juxial, I know you're committed to your job, but it isn't worth risking all
our lives for a shipment of honey."
"Forget the honey,
Ferran. We have to find out what happened to those people. It's our obligation as
interstellar travellers. Our government and our people are going to want information.
Can't we take a shuttle down to the planet to investigate?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Ferran began to pace back
and forth in the tiny room. "Because we can't re-enter orbit. It's too dangerous and,
besides, we just don't have the fuel. We're not a star-fighter, Juxial. We're an unarmed
trade ship."
"So, don't take the
Yimitn back into orbit. Let's just launch a two-man shuttle."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to
launch a shuttle from here, because that shuttle could easily be detected and shot down
before we reach the planet surface."
"Please, Ferran. This
is really important to me."
"You just want to
connect with that Worec fellow, don't you?"
Juxial got out of bed,
stood by her window and stared at the stars. "I would like to know if he's safe, if
that's what you mean. He is a friend." She turned to look at Ferran. "Look,
we're already here. And, I'm willing to take all the risks. I'll pilot the shuttle to
Earth all by myself, if that's what you really want. I'm a qualified shuttle pilot."
"I can't let you do
that."
"Why not?"
Ferran turned away from
Juxial without saying a word. "These Earthians may need our help, Ferran. We can't
just go home. That would be--cowardly."
"You're absolutely
impossible," he said. "Okay, we'll attempt to sneak a shuttle down to Earth.
Just you and me. Perrad has to stay here to pilot the ship, and Cookie and the two
engineering assistants didn't sign on to this mission to risk their lives. But Juxial, I
swear, if you end up losing your life because of this--this insane trip, I'll--I'll . . .
"What?"
"I'll never forgive
you," he said.
#
Perrad was less than
friendly toward Juxial when she and Ferran entered the bridge in their pressure suits. He
completely ignored her and instead, spoke to Ferran as if she wasn't even in the room.
"I'm not crazy about
this plan of yours," he said.
"Neither am I,"
the pilot replied. "But, you won't be in much danger. I just want you to act as a
decoy, long enough for us to land on the planet. Wait till we launch the shuttle, then
enter as high an orbit as possible. Send a message to the planet and let them fire at you.
Then, pull out of orbit as quickly as you can. Just remember not to shut off the
engines!"
"Don't worry, I
won't," Perrad replied. He briefly made eye contact with Juxial, who graced him with
a winning smile. His response was an angry scowl.
Meanwhile, Ferran moved
from control panel to control panel and took note of the various readings. He paused at
one console and made some fine adjustments to a few instrument settings.
"Look, I know that I
can get out of the way of their missile, Ferran. But I'm worried about you. You're
planning to land on an unfriendly planet without so much as a hand laser," Perrad
said.
Ferran looked at Juxial
and, to her surprise, smiled broadly. "If anyone tries to attack us, they'll have to
answer to Juxial," he told his navigator. The woman cringed at the remark.
"Was that a joke,
Ferran?" Perrad asked. "Because I'm not laughing."
"Okay, don't laugh.
Just get Cookie up here to take my place on the bridge. Juxial, let's board the shuttle,
before I change my mind. And Perrad, whatever you do, don't get yourself destroyed."
Juxial followed Ferran to
the shuttle bay, entered the shuttle and took her place in the navigation seat. A fraction
of a cycle later, Ferran launched the shuttle and Juxial worked the controls to guide the
tiny ship toward Earth and into the atmosphere.
Through the rear portal,
Juxial watched the Yimitn follow them toward the planet. Shortly thereafter, Ferran called
her attention to the front viewscreen where a missile was speeding in their direction.
"It's targeted the
Yimitn," Ferran said. "Which, since you are a qualified shuttle pilot, you
should know already by the readings on this panel." He pointed to one of the panels
beside the navigation controls. Juxial nodded as if she understood, but really had only
the vaguest notion of how to interpret the readings. Her training had been many cycles in
the past, on an older shuttle with a vastly different configuration.
She watched the Yimitn
reverse course, away from the planet. The missile passed the shuttle and followed the
Yimitn into space. Meanwhile, the shuttle entered the atmosphere and began to shake with
turbulence.
"Compensate,
navigator!" Ferran ordered. Juxial tried to comply, but again was confounded by the
unfamiliar controls. Ferran reached over her shoulder and punched a few buttons, which
stabilized the ship somewhat, but the ride was still rocky.
"Do you think you'll
be able to land?" she asked.
"Don't worry," he
said. "I know what I'm doing."
They were now inside
Earth's atmosphere and Juxial could see the curvature of the land masses, against an
Earthian sea.
"Your Worec lives in a
city called Minton. That's on the southern edge of the large continent beneath us,"
Ferran said. "Hold on to your seat. We're about to accelerate toward the
surface."
"I assume the coolant
system will come on automatically, to compensate for the rise in hull temperature as we
pass through the atmosphere," she said.
"If it doesn't, we can
kiss our backsides goodbye," Ferran replied. Juxial made a mental note to study a few
technical manuals, once they were back on the Yimitn.
As the shuttle speed
increased, so did the turbulence, and Juxial's stomach again lurched into her throat. She
looked at the viewscreen and saw the continent increase in size at an incredible rate. A
city became visible, then she could distinguish individual portions of that city and then,
Ferran reached over her shoulder to hit a few more buttons. The shuttle did somersaults,
and Juxial was glad that she was securely fastened into her seat.
They landed hard on a
hillside. Juxial could feel the force of the impact pass through her body. She looked at
Ferran to see how he had weathered the landing. He winked at her and reached over an arm
to help her unfastened her seat straps.
"So, do you still
think you could have landed this shuttle all by yourself?" he asked.
"Maybe," she
replied.
"I don't think
so," he replied.
"Neither do I,"
she said. She could feel the heat in her face and knew that her complexion was now
blood-red with embarrassment.
He leaned over and kissed
her lightly on the lips.
"Why'd you do
that?" she asked.
"Because," he
replied.
"Because why?"
"Because, I wanted
to."
#
At first contact, the
Earthians, or 'humans' as they preferred to be called, were quite comfortable with the
people from Jestin. This high comfort level was mostly derived from the fact that the
Earthians looked like Jestians. Earth biologists had to be convinced, at first, that they
were, in fact, aliens from another world. These relatively primitive scientists considered
it a mathematical impossibility for two such similar races to develop independently, on
different worlds.
Actually, the converse was
true. As Jestians travellers had long since discovered, the development of
Earthian-like/Jestian-like beings was a mathematical certainty on planets of a particular
age, with oxygen/nitrogen atmospheres. Genetic differences typically were found only in
the rate of cell mitosis, which usually made it impossible for Jestians to mate with the
inhabitants of other worlds. The exterior similarities, however, would make it easy for
Juxial and Ferran to walk through the streets of Minton, once they had shucked their
pressure suits. Juxial had even brought Earth-style garments for the both of them.
Ferran had landed the ship
in a deserted area, and, to avoid immediate detection, covered the shuttle with a tarp
which was stored on the starboard side of the engine compartment. They began walking
toward the city, through acres of uninhabited grassland, adorned only with heaps of trash
and the occasional ruined building.
"It's awfully hot out
here," Ferran said. They had only walked for about one Earth-hour, but his shirt was
already soaked through with sweat.
"I believe the
temperature is about average for this season in this part of the world," Juxial
replied. Her slight form made it easier for her to adjust to the moderate heat and
humidity, and she felt quite comfortable. Her steps felt lighter than air and she had to
stop herself from chuckling at her heavier, clumsier companion.
As they grew closer to the
city, their comfort levels reversed. Ferran's attention was drawn to the huge skyscrapers,
juxtaposed with quaint, tiny Jestian-like houses and the darting, nimble hovercraft.
Juxial was alarmed by these sights, which did not agree with what she knew of Earth and
the city of Minton from her earlier visit.
"So, they built some
new skyscrapers and developed a new style of hovercraft. So what?"
"There were no
skyscrapers in Minton the last time I was here. The architecture of their homes is
completely unlike what I saw before," she said. She stopped dead in her tracks and
turned to look at Ferran. "And their vehicles did not have flight capability."
"Like I said, so
what?" Ferran replied. He continued to walk past her for several feet, and she ran to
catch up to him.
"So, it's like we're
on a different planet."
"We settled that back
on the Yimitn. This planet is at the correct coordinates. It's Earth, all right."
"So, what
happened?"
"Nothing. You probably
were in a different part of the city, last time."
"I know what
happened!" she said.
"What?"
"Remember those
strange instrument readings you were getting when we took off from Jestin. Just before we
entered the dimensional warp?"
"No."
"Sure you do. You and
Perrad commented on it."
"You mean when we
passed by the comet?"
"Yeah, I think you did
say it was a comet."
"What about it?"
"Well, maybe the comet
did something to make us travel through time. We could be hundreds of cycles in Earth's
future-- or in Earth's past."
Ferran stopped moving and
looked at her with a serious expression on his face.
"You could be
right," he said.
"Do you really think
so?" she asked.
The serious expression on
his face melted away and he fell to the ground, with his face in his hands. She poked him
on the shoulder and when he lifted his face, she saw that he was shaking with laughter!
"What's so
funny?"
"Juxial, time-travel
is a physical impossibility."
Juxial stamped her foot on
the ground. "No, it's not!" she said. "I went to a lecture where some
physicists were discussing it."
He stopped laughing and
tried to speak, then saw her serious expression and again succumbed to peals of laughter.
"Juxial, believe me, we didn't travel in time," he said when he caught his
breath.
"We could have!"
"We didn't. To travel
in time, we would have had to travel close to the speed of light, which is a physical
impossibility with our engines. That's why we developed the dimensional jump technology.
Jumping allows us to travel huge distances in a fraction of a cycle. And dimensional jumps
bypass the problems of space-time relativity."
"But, maybe we did
somehow reach speeds that are faster than light, without even realizing it," Juxial
said.
"You know what I
think?" Ferran asked.
"What?"
"I think you've been
reading too much science fiction."
"Have not."
"Have too."
"Have not!"
Juxial turned away from him and began to walk toward the city, again.
"Juxial, wait. If you
move too fast, you might enter another time warp and I might never see you again," he
said, before another bout of laughter struck him speechless.
"Good," she said.
Ferran got himself under
control and caught up with his friend.
"Juxial, I know how we
can find out what happened on this planet during the last two cycles."
"How?"
"Let's find a library.
This planet does have public libraries, doesn't it?"
"Of course. At least,
it did last time."
"Well, now we have a
destination. So, come on," he said. "Get moving, soldier."
#
Juxial felt self-conscious
as she and Ferran entered the Minton public library. Their clothing was out of place,
unlike anything worn by the Earthians on the street. While Juxial's skirt came to knee
level, the other women's dresses extended all the way to the ground. While Ferran's shirt
was made of a silky material and had breast pockets, the other men's shirts were of a
coarser material, with no pockets at all.
"I thought you were an
expert on Earth fashion," Ferran said.
"I thought I knew a
lot of things about Earth," she replied. "I guess I was wrong."
"Well, people are
staring at us. We can't stay here long, we're too conspicuous. We'll arouse
suspicion."
"Hey, are you guys
going to a costume party or something?" a young man asked.
"No, we're from out of
town," Juxial replied.
The man's face grew
indignant. "Very funny," he said. "I can never understand why some people
can't give a guy a straight answer to a straight question. Everybody has to be a
comedian." The man turned and walked away.
"What'd he say?"
Ferran asked. She told him.
"Oh, we must really
look strange," Ferran whispered in her ear.
Juxial spied a news viewer
at the rear of the library, so she grabbed Ferran's hand and led him in that direction.
"At least I understood what the man was saying. He was speaking in the Earth language
called 'English.' That proves we are on Earth, at least."
"As if there were ever
any doubt. They attacked us after they heard our message, remember? We knew they
understood English."
"Well, I wasn't
sure."
"I was."
"Well, I wasn't,"
she said. She pushed a few buttons on the viewer and perused the electronic masthead of
the latest Earthian news report. "But, this date is all wrong. It says 'May 9, 2235.'
I told you, we did travel in time."
"What are you talking
about?" Ferran said with a note of exasperation in his voice. "Not this again.
Juxial, I guarantee that we did not--repeat--did not travel in time."
"When I came here two
cycles ago, the date was 2165."
"Maybe they changed
their dating system."
"But why?"
"I don't know."
Juxial pushed another
button on the news viewer. "Oh, look at this," she said. "Look at this
article."
"You know I can't read
this language," he said.
"Okay, the headline
reads: 'Jestians Return. Is Our Planet In Danger?'"
Juxial bit her lip as she
studied the article. "Hmm. It says that we visited their planet a long time ago, but
never returned. Hmm."
"These people are
positively delusional," Ferran said. Juxial continued to skim through the news
report. "Okay, it says something about a current hatred of space exploration and
aliens and so forth. The author of the article calls it a 'planet-wide xenophobia.' That
explains why they got rid of their space bays and the space station. They're suspicious of
us. They think we came to their planet just to get information which we're using to plan
some sort of attack."
"Like everything else
on this god-forsaken planet, none of that makes any sense at all," Ferran said.
"It says that the
leading expert on Jestians doesn't agree. This man thinks we meant their planet no harm.
We should go and see him. He works in this very city, at Minton University. Apparently,
Minton is the center for what they call 'extra- terrestrial' studies because that's where
the first group of Jestian's landed. The 'first group of Jestians'--that means me and the
others."
"And who is this
professorial genius?"
"His name is Dr.
Schmidt. That's Worec's last name!"
"Maybe it is
Worec."
Juxial sent an electronic
request for an image file. "No. Here's a picture of the guy," she said. He's
positively ancient."
"Well, if we travelled
in time, maybe it is your Worec."
"So, you're starting
to believe me?"
"I'm starting to think
we landed on a planet of lunatics," Ferran said. "But come on. Let's go and
speak to this professor. If he can't tell us about the rapid changes on this planet, no
one can."
#
It took Juxial and Ferran
two earth-hours to reach the campus of Minton University. Unfortunately, their dress was
so strange, most people avoided them, so it took Juxial another two hours to get Dr.
Schmidt's address from some students. Finally, she and Ferran reached the professor's
small home, climbed the steps of his front porch, and knocked on the door.
A wizened old man answered,
took one look at Juxial and stumbled backward. Ferran quickly stepped into the house,
helped him regain his balance, then led him over to a well-stuffed sofa. Juxial followed
and, when the man again looked at her, she began to speak to him in English.
"Professor, we didn't
mean to alarm you," she said. "We just wanted to have a word with you, about the
Jestians."
"Juxial!" he
said. "You are Juxial, aren't you?"
"Yes," she said.
Juxial peered into the man's face and saw something familiar. Her eyes grew wide with
amazement.
"It's me, Worec,"
the old man said. "You've finally come back."
Juxial took Worec in her
arms and gave him a hug. "Oh Worec, it's so good to see you," she said.
"I'm just sorry it took me so long to reach you. I hope you eventually--uh--got
married and had children. I mean, I hope you didn't wait for me."
Worec patted her hand,
gently. "No, I didn't wait," he said with a kindly chuckle. "I've been
married twice. I have seven grandchildren and five great-grandchildren."
Juxial smiled and kissed
the old man on the cheek. "That's wonderful," she said.
"You haven't changed a
bit," Worec said. "You're still as lovely as ever." He looked over at
Ferran who stood silently in the center of the room. "Who's your friend? Is he also
from Jestin?"
"Yes, this is Ferran.
He's--well--He's the pilot of our spaceship."
"And he doesn't speak
English, does he?" Worec asked.
"No."
"I thought he looked a
little confused."
"I guess I should tell
him about you. Um--Give me a moment," she said.
Juxial translated the old
man's words for Ferran, then poked him in the shoulder. "See!"
"What?"
"This proves my
time-travel theory," she said.
Ferran shook his head.
"There has to be another explanation."
"Oh, you think you
know everything." She turned back to the old man. "Worec, I don't know what to
say. We landed on the planet and everything was changed and . . . and I just don't know
how this happened."
"I do," he said.
His wrinkled mouth opened to reveal a broad grin.
"What do you
mean?" Juxial asked.
"I've done studies of
tissue samples from you and the other Jestians," Worec replied. "Wait. Let me
show you my results." The old man disappeared into a back room and returned with a
handful of yellowed papers, which he handed to Juxial and Ferran. "As you can plainly
see from these reports, your cells are different--very different from our cells."
Juxial again translated his
words for her fellow Jestian. "Tell him that's normal," Ferran said. "Most
people on other planets do have slightly different rates of cell division. We see that all
the time."
Juxial relayed Ferran's
words to Worec, who began to shake his head, vehemently.
"Juxial, it's more
than just your rate of mitosis," he said. "Your cells never seem to die. They
can divide at least one- hundred-thousand times more than a human cell."
"And what does that
mean?" she asked as she unconsciously bit her fingernails.
"Juxial, let me answer
your question with a question," Worec said. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-nine
cycles."
"And how old were you
when you first came to Earth? Twenty-seven cycles?"
"Yes. You know
that."
"Well, my dear--each
Jestian cycle is, according to my calculations, equivalent to approximately thirty-five
Earth years." He took his reports back from Juxial and shoved them into a weathered
brown folder.
"So then, we haven't
travelled in time?" Juxial asked.
"No, that's not
possible without engines that can approach the speed of light," Worec said.
"You're still young while I'm old, simply because your people don't age as quickly.
Fact is, by human calculations, you're over one-thousand and fifteen years old," he
said. "That means, right now, you're the oldest living thing on Earth. Everything's
changed on this planet because we've gone through two complete generations!"
When Juxial translated his
words for Ferran, there were tears in her eyes. Tears of pity for this race of sentient
beings who lived their entire lives in the blink of an eye.
end
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