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The Unanswered Question

by Gary Inbinder


part 2 of 3

“Are you ready, Captain Hicks?”

Bud grinned, “Ready as I’ll ever be, Doc. Go ahead and flush.”

“I beg your pardon, captain?”

“Sorry, Doc, that’s just a little joke.”

“I understand, captain.” Doctor Ernestine Guevara, Senior Chief Science Officer of the space battleship Victory glanced at the grinning, fair-haired, and blue-eyed Bud as he lay strapped to a gurney and hooked up to the alien orb. The scientist wondered if the young Space Marine cum-intergalactic-ambassador could possibly be as nonchalant as he looked. The scientist shook her head, attributing Bud’s sang-froid to a complete lack of imagination. She flipped the switch and Bud’s world suddenly went black.

Bud emerged from the void into a sea of orange soda pop. At least that was his initial sensation, as he gasped, wriggled and gulped in the sweet fizzy liquid. However, he soon acclimated himself to the alien atmosphere. Bud seemed to be floating and breathing in a topless and bottomless ocean. His eyes adjusted to a shimmering iridescent light that pervaded the aqueous tangerine environment.

After a moment, he focused on a pair of opalescent-scaled creatures floating above and about two meters in front of him. The aliens reminded Bud of his childhood pet tropical fish, Romeo and Juliet. The creatures stared at him with their multi-pupil eyes bobbling on the end of wiry eyestalks.

“Greetings, Earth creature Captain Hicks of the Space Marines, I am Twad-el and the person floating to my left is my associate, Tweed-el.” The voice of the alien creature seemed to pop musically from a stream of bubbles in the plummy Oxbridge tones of a BBC announcer.

Bud burped an effervescent response, “I am honored to meet you, gentlemen... or ladies.”

Twad-el’s eyestalk turned toward Tweed-el, and the two aliens exchanged a brief burst of luminescent froth. Then Twad-el turned back to Bud. “You may refer to us as gentlepersons.”

Bud belched bubbles in acknowledgement, and Twad-el continued. “Some time ago a primitive craft from your planet entered our solar system. We examined the object and determined that Earth had sent it on a peaceful mission. The structure and technology of the object as well as its contents taught us much about Earth and its sentient creatures.

“Your species is relatively ignorant and crude, but you do possess some intellectual curiosity and understanding. Therefore, the high council of our planet decided to enter the outer limits of your solar system to observe you more closely and then contact one among you. You were chosen to convey a message to your leaders.”

“What message is that, gentleperson Twad-el?”

“You will ask two questions and our answers will be the message. You may ask those questions now.”

Bud expelled a bubble that burst in bewilderment. What questions could he ask these advanced creatures? He adopted a form of expression he thought diplomatic, “Gentleperson Twad-el, that is a most generous offer but please permit me to consult with my superiors. I could not possibly take such responsibility without input from a higher authority. Our greatest scientists, scholars and political and military leaders must be consulted on a matter of such inter-galactic significance.”

“No, Captain Hicks,” Twad-el replied. “We have chosen you to ask the questions, and we are confident that you will ask the right ones.”

Why don’t they just give me the frigging message? Bud wondered. “Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to do and die.” Is that why the aliens chose Bud Hicks? Those thoughts flashed through Bud’s consternated brain and took him back to the day he sat on an Academy crapper and mocked the Kantian antinomies.

Bud blew a burst of flustered froth and the popping sounded like the opening bars of Ives “Unanswered Question,” “Is the cosmos like a great toilet that has a beginning in time, and is it also limited as regards space?”

Twad-el and Tweed-el drew their metaphorical bows over resonant fish-lipped strings and replied in unison, “Yes Captain Hicks, your question states an accurate and concise description of the cosmos.”

Bud shuddered, and his submarine trumpet hesitantly squawked his worst suspicion, “Are you... are you gentlepersons going to flush my world to make more room for your own?”

The fishy strings emitted a mirthful stream of bubbles, “Yes, we will flush you in the fullness of time. Think of it as a process of natural selection and survival of the fittest. Also, we are a tidy race and do not like to leave unsightly excrement in the bowl.”

For a moment, Bud stared at the aliens in disbelief, and then his trumpet complained, “Isn’t one galaxy enough for you guys... uh, gentlepersons? Besides, I can’t go back with that. The people of Earth will go bonkers!”

The sounds of the strings faded, and then dissolved into a void, “That is your problem, Captain Bud Hicks. Farewell.”

* * *

Bud awoke spewing viscous orange sputum all over Dr. Guevara’s clean, white lab coat. His purged lungs immediately re-acclimated to the oxygen rich laboratory environment. “Wuhhhhh,” he shook his head and tried to focus his bleary eyes. After heaving, Bud asked, “Where am I?”

Dr. Guevara mopped her lab coat with a towel, and glared at Bud, “You are in the laboratory aboard the WFSS Victory, Captain Hicks. You dematerialized for an instant and then suddenly reappeared expectorating a great quantity of viscous orange matter.”

Bud regained his senses although his head throbbed as if that of a seventeen-year-old cadet following an evening of booze and joy weeds. He stared at Guevara, and the doctor’s floating, fragmented image coalesced into a solid form firmly anchored to the laboratory floor. “I’m sorry about the mess, Doc. I breathed that stuff on the alien planet.”

“Hmmm, I see, captain. We’ll place you in quarantine and begin running tests.” Glancing at her colorful lab coat, the doctor added, “I’ll call in the HAZMAT ’bots and place myself under quarantine, as well. Let us hope that the aliens acted in good faith and without malicious intent.” Guevara rubbed her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Just to satisfy my own curiosity, could you describe them and their world for me?”

“They said their names were Twad-el and Tweed-el and they looked like a pair of big, bobble-eyed tropical fish swimming in a tank filled with orange soda pop. They’re obviously highly advanced and intelligent.”

Bud almost added that the aliens intended to destroy humankind and take our solar system. Instead, he said, “They also appear to have a very quirky sense of humor.”

Doctor Guevara muttered, “Big fish in an orange soda pop world, highly intelligent and with a quirky sense of humor. God help us.”

* * *

The lab released Bud from quarantine following an extensive battery of physical and psychological tests. The orange mess had no ill effects. Bud wrote a report of his brief close encounter with the aliens and that report, along with a mental and physical fitness evaluation went to the World Federation Security Council and office of the Secretary General. Shortly thereafter, a top-level secret board of inquiry discussed Captain Bud Hicks and his message.

Secretary General Kafka, a grandfatherly man with frizzy white hair, bushy eyebrows and pointy ears contemplated the Hicks file with an air of beneficent tolerance. Then, he eyed the deliberating board members, and asked, “So, what are we going to do with him?”

To avoid mass hysteria they had already decided not to release the aliens’ inflammatory message. The board sealed the file and classified it Top Secret. They would tell the public that the aliens had expressed their peaceful intentions and had agreed to remain out of the solar system for the present while leaving the door open to future diplomatic contacts. This would buy time for the military to complete its new defense plan, code named “The Seventh Seal.”

The member from the Eurasian League spoke first. “Before we decide the captain’s fate, I’ll admit I still don’t understand the aliens’ thinking. Why not communicate with us directly, or just attack? Why respond to questions from a simple soldier like Hicks and then use him to convey their message in the form of answers? It’s all so convoluted. The whole thing seems fishy to me.”

Secretary General Kafka smiled at the “fishy” reference. “The aliens are subtle, and they understand human psychology. They probed the captain’s mind and dredged up an existential paradox that has been puzzling humanity for ages. Hicks sought an answer to the paradox and the aliens’ reply confirmed his suspicions about their belligerent intentions.

“Moreover, what more credible witness is there for the great mass of humanity than a naïve hero? Trusting Hicks’ message, half our constituents would demand that we appease the aliens in a futile attempt to save our world, while the others would clamor for a war we cannot presently win. I think the aliens want to divide and weaken us prior to launching an attack. Divide et impera.”

The board members nodded their heads and mumbled in agreement.

Admiral Nelson spoke as military representative. “Captain Hicks has a fine service record and the public thinks he’s a hero. I recommend promoting him to major, awarding him the World Federation Medal of Honor, and then pensioning him off to somewhere remote, inconspicuous, and secure.”

The representative from the Pan-American Union remarked, “I think that’s a good plan, Admiral, but are you sure he’ll keep his mouth shut?”

The Admiral’s robotic eyes flashed. “He’s a Space Marine. If he gives his word of honor, that’s good enough for me.”

“I agree, Admiral,” Kafka interjected. “I propose we offer him the promotion, the decoration and a substantial pension on condition that he never leak the truth about his encounter with the aliens and their message. As for a remote and inconspicuous place for him to spend the rest of his life, I suggest Paradise.” Paradise was an off-world resort where a select group of retired civil servants and officers went to die.

The board voted unanimously in favor of the Secretary General’s proposal. They notified Bud of their decision, and Bud accepted the offer in exchange for his zipped mouth.

Admiral Nelson was the decisive factor. She met with Bud in private and told him that his acceptance of the board’s decision would be the best thing for the service, and she promised him an honorable place in Corps history. Thus, at the tender age of twenty-seven, Major Bud Hicks, the first human to encounter intelligent beings from another world, found himself pensioned off to obscurity in Paradise.

* * *


Proceed to part 3...

Copyright © 2008 by Gary Inbinder

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