Terrie Relf's Page

Once upon a time, there lived a daughter of the gods, and she was often lonely. But when it rained, she withdrew from her gloomy mood, stood at the window of the extraterrestial palace, and traced the pattern of the droplets. She would breathe on the window, watch as it misted over, then trace pictures of kuchi bugs and mora flowers, happy for the moment.

One day, she took a long walk to the edge of the universe, and there she spied a vast open space just perfect for rock-skipping. So, she reached down, picked up a pebble, and tossed it over the edge. It fell and fell, and she never heard it hit bottom, so she gathered up entire handfulls and tossed them over the edge.

A wind came up, cast them further and further away, shaped them into a wave, spun them about until they scattered to the four corners and beyond.

So that is why, my little one, that it’s best you come inside right now, for the little princess is in a mood today, and casting her rocks about.

We landed on the farthest side of Jupiter's largest moon, Europa. The other moons didn't pose as much of a mystery, or perhaps it was the possibility of an active ocean life that intrigued the triumvirate of private investors. "NASA be damed," they said, "we want answers and we need them now."

We slid across the ice before the gear finally gripped, precariously close to glassy patch of ice. We disembarked without event. Our team leader and biologist,L ilith Wiseman, First officer and communications expert, Kendra Llwellyn, and our generalist, me, Blair Tarquedt, set to work establishing a working base-camp.

Back at home, they hoped for us to return with core samples of dormant cell life, sonar footage of the caps, and perhaps, if we were really lucky, some kind of fungi.

That's what we expected--and delivered. But what we didn't expect was to be greeted by a contingent of off-world trekkers suspiciously like ourselves.

They seemed like regular guys. The one who appeared to be their leader, Karn, asked, "Would we remain with them? Share knowledge? Share food? Share warmth?"

The general consensus was, "why not?" They seemed about as threatening as tourists from Iceland.

We went about our business while they observed us. It seems their business was already finished, and once they spotted us on their systems scan, they decided to remain, to make first-contact with our species.

How did they know our language? Their seeming second-in-command, L'ren, said they'd been watching us for quite some time, and that this seemed a better plan than what they had previously been concocting. What this other plan was they never said.

So, we communicated, albeit awkwardly. They spoke in short phrases, our words much shorter than the ones of their own language, which had a melodious flow, intriguingly accented.

They seemed quite content to watch us, nodding occasionally, quite pleased that we were discovering something of worth for our people at home. The sampling had been going well, so we slowed our pace, amazed that we were able to find what we needed--and so quickly.

In retrospect, that, too, seemed a bit odd, a bit too convenient; but what would they have to gain by planting samples or leading us to areas where we hadn't even thought to look? It was as if we'd placed a take-out order, and they had it ready by the time we drove up to the window.

They wouldn't share anything about their reasons for being on Europa, though. In fact, they even acted as if they misunderstood the concept.

Apparently, their planet wasn't that far away. They pointed, said something that sounded like, "stop by for a visit. " Quite hospitable we thought they were.

The evening before our departure, they invited us for a special meal prepared in our honor. They served a potent wine that was probably much too strong for us.

Sometime during the night, our friends tucked us into make-shift beds, and I remember a sharp sting, a blissful sleep, then waking up with a stuffy head.

We still managed to leave at the prearranged time, though. Our friends seemed more than a bit emotional, which I thought odd. Maybe they were going to be alone for a long, long time, and we had provided them with much needed company. There was also something I couldn't quite remember until later. Much later.

Once home, we were greeted by a special team. At first, we thought it was because of our brief transmission that we'd discovered other travelers. Did they think we'd halucinated the whole thing?

While we recounted what we could remember, it was the missing time that bothered them the most.

It came as no surprise when were were quickly quarantined, poked, proded, given psych evals.

They didn't find any hidden organisms. No DSMVI correlatives. Clean bills of health all around. Needless to say, they were quite puzzled.

The core samples? Retrieved. Tested. Another puzzle: samples of Europan ice and ocean water evaporated while being tested. The fungi all dissolved as well.

It wasn't long, though, before the three of us realized that we weren't the same women we were prior to leaving. It wasn't just that the edges of our consciousness blurred a bit, or that we began to hear a collective humming of odd melodic phrases that we were eventually able to imitate. It was something else altogether.

So when we heard about several failed missions to Europa--then to IO--we knew why.

The dragon ships were anchored just beyond our campsite. Territorial, those Vikings are.

~ END