An Atmosphere Of Angels by H C Turk

Author:H C Turk [Turk, H C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
Publisher: H. C. Turk
Published: 2011-09-29T04:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Colors In His Fingertips

“Find your own bathtub, pervert,” Kathlynn said, and shoved Parno away.

Standing in the alien loo, Kathlynn found the nearest cleansing chamber. She had pushed Parno away not with effort, but with a girlish touch. Now she entered the spherical chamber with spritely steps. She entered smiling.

Parno would not accept confusion, ignorance, or Kathlynn’s apparent madness. But he could not avoid a sense of inferiority. Entering a different bathing chamber, allowing the alien technols to remove his clothing, Parno understood that he was no better than an animal. Though providing only a cleansing massage, the chamber would improve his condition, the condition of his life. How could his sophisticated emotions and acute intellect be revived merely by taking a bath?

Since these thoughts delivered weary confusion, Parno considered nothing, accepting another stint of insipid recuperation.

When Parno next stood beside Kathlynn, the superfem was not smiling. Fully clothed, showing no injury, she confronted her partner.

“Time to leave.”

“Kathlynn, please take me with you.”

That brought a smile.

“All we have to do is go to the process margin in the translation arena. I’ll wrap on a function retainer, relearn the workings of the vessel, and we’ll exit.”

Looking toward Parno, Kathlynn smiled only with the corners of her mouth. Parno much preferred this expression to her snobby disregard.

“Kathlynn, your terminology is alien,” Parno told her. “‘Process margin’? ‘Translation arena’? ‘Wrap on a function retainer’? The ‘vessel’? Ma’am, I’m afraid I’ll have to check inside your coveralls to see if you’re full of ashes.”

He reached out, not meaning to touch her, and Kathlynn grasped his hand. After squeezing his fingers a moment while smiling, she released him, and explained.

Some alien responses he could learn to love.

“Those are verbal translations that just came to me, Parno. ‘Translation’ in ‘translation arena’ refers to changing one position for another: transportation. While wrapped with the function retainer—a type of work suit—I learned so much. It’s difficult to explain. I seemed a part of the alien culture. I was connected to their history, in a type of receptive communication. The only discrete data I remember, though, is stars. I believe I saw the airlock door, which is covered with stars.”

“What is their appearance?”

“Whose appearance?”

“As an anthropologist, I want to know more of the aliens’ culture. As an Earther, I want to know how they look.”

“Parno, since I was one of them,” Kathlynn explained, “they looked like me.”

“The aliens are short and sexy?”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“I’m not short.”

“Oh. So, if you learned so much, why couldn’t you get out of the suit on your own?”

“I didn’t want to, Parno. I didn’t know that the ghost was approaching.”

“Is ‘ghost’ an accurate verbal translation from the alien language?”

“No, it’s my term. I didn’t learn about the ghost, Parno, I learned about the alien technols. How long was I in there?”

“A few alien-norm minutes. In this vessel, you and I are the aliens.”

“Oh, Parno, it felt like…hours, longer. It felt…timeless.”

“Kathlynn, assuming the ghost is looking for us now, we can’t stay one step ahead if we linger in the translation arena all wrapped up in function retainers.

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