Barbary

Roof first, Barbary’s raft floated toward a wide black slash in the ship’s hull. If she did not keep telling herself she was going “up,” she felt as if she were falling, upside down and in slow motion.

Intense darkness closed in around her.

The raft’s control panel spread a ghostly light on Heather’s pale face and Barbary’s hands. She heard the echo of Mick’s plaintive miaow, and the feathery whisper of Heather’s breath.

A faint chime rang, growing louder and closer. Barbary blinked, trying to figure out if she only imagined light outside the raft, or if she were seeing a glow as gentle as dawn. The ringing reached a pleasant level and remained there, while the light brightened till Barbary could see. She had weight as well, but she had not noticed when the gravity appeared. She felt as if she weighed as much as she did on earth, and this increased her concern for Heather.

Her raft hung in a round room whose surface glistened like mother-of-pearl. The columns supporting the ceiling looked like frozen waterfalls or translucent pillars of melted glass. She searched for the opening that had let her in, but it had closed or sealed itself up. From the wind-chime sound transmitted to her through the raft’s body, she decided she must be surrounded by an atmosphere, but she did not know if it was oxygen or — as Heather had speculated — methane or cyanide. She had no way to tell whether it was safe to breathe, or poisonous.

Mick miaowed again, louder.

“It’s okay, Mick,” she said. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Do you hear us?”

The radio spoke with the beautiful voice of the alien’s first message to Atlantis.

“Yes,” she whispered, her throat dry. “Can you hear me?”

“We sense you. Will you meet us?”

“I want to. I really do,” Barbary said. “But I have to get Heather into zero g and back to the space station. She’s sick and I can’t wake her up. The gravity’s too strong for her here. Besides, all the important people are waiting to meet you, and they’ll be really angry if I see you first.”

“But,” the voice said, “you have already seen us.”

Barbary stared around the chamber, looking for creatures, great ugly things like the aliens in old movies, or small furry things like the aliens in books. They must be hiding behind the tall glass pillars.

The gravity faded till it was barely enough to give Barbary’s surroundings a “down” and an “up.”

“Is this gravity more comfortable for you?”

“Yes,” Barbary said. “Thanks.”

“We believed we calibrated your gravity correctly.”

“You did,” Barbary said. “At least it felt okay to me. But Heather… Heather has to live in lower gravity. Won’t you let us go? She’s sick! Anyway, I can’t see you —” She stopped, amazed.

Though she had not seen them move, the crystal columns had come closer. They clustered around her. Their rigid forms remained upright, yet they gave the impression of bending down like a group of worried aunts or friendly trees. A long row of crystalline fibers grew along the side of each column. The fibers quivered rapidly, vibrating against and stroking the main body of each being, producing the wind-chime voices.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh. I do see you. You’re beautiful!”

“We will loose your craft if you wish,” the voice on the radio said. “But our ship will reach your habitat before your vessel could fly to it, and here the gravity can be controlled.”

“Can you hurry? I’m really worried about Heather.”

“We will hurry.”

Barbary listened to Heather’s rapid, irregular heartbeat.

“Can’t you help her?” she said to the aliens. She remembered all the movies she had seen where people got hurt and aliens healed them. “Can’t you make her well? Aliens are supposed to be able to make people well!”

“But we have only just met you,” one of the aliens said, perplexed and regretful. “We know little of your physiology. Perhaps in a few decades, if you wish us to study you…”

Barbary thought she should have learned by now not to expect anything to work the way it did in books or movies. She leaned over Heather again, willing her to awaken.

Heather’s eyelids fluttered.

“Barbary…?”

Heather opened her eyes. She sounded weak, confused, and tired.

“It’s okay, Heather. Anyway, I think it is — what about you?”

“I feel kind of awful. What happened?”

“We’re on the alien ship.”

A spark of excitement brought some of the color back to her sister’s cheeks. She struggled to a sitting position.

“Are there aliens?” Heather whispered. She was shivering. Barbary chafed her cold hands and helped her put on the jacket.

“There are other beings,” the gentle voice said. “We hope not to be alien, one to the other, for very long. Will you meet us?”

“Can we breathe your air?” Heather hugged the jacket around her.

“It is not our air. We do not use air. It is your air. You should find it life-sustaining, uninfectious, and sufficiently warm to maintain you.”

Barbary gingerly cracked the seal of the roof-hatch. Warm, fresh air filled the raft. Heather took a deep breath. Her shivering eased.