Bigheads
Like A Human Solution, this is a very early and not very good story.
I was going for a missionary meets native tribe sort of vibe, with a slight twist of course.
Words: 900
Reading time: 5 minutes or less
The natives of Seran III had blue skin and exceptionally large heads, with correspondingly large jaws containing two rows of serrated teeth. Similar — so I was informed by Donovan Guest, the mission’s xenoculteral biologist — to the now extinct great white shark of Earth.
“They’re fascinating,” he said, his round face fairly quivering with excitement.
I thought his judgment premature — we’d only been on planet a day of our scheduled two weeks — yet his fellow researcher, Magdelin Francis, a tall, thin woman with black hair, nodded. Her voice dropped to a conspirator’s whisper and her eyes shone with barely suppressed ecstasy. “Fascinating.”
“This is my first first contact,” Donovan said, looking up from his comp screen, pudgy fingers wiggling as though he were typing on some ancient keyboard. He turned back to the screen and continued subvocalizing his journal. Donovan was big on journals. Donovan was plain big.
I appreciated their enthusiasm, but was unable to share it. As a pilot for the First Contact Cultural Institute, I’d been on dozens of newly discovered worlds. With sentient life in the universe apparently as common as the hairs on my head, the novelty had worn off long ago.
“Well, I’ll be running diagnostics if you need me.”
Donovan nodded and Magdelin mumbled something, absorbed a colored graph on a computer screen. I left them to their research and retired to my cramped cabin and collection of entertainment holovids.
#
I saw them sporadically over the next week, mostly when I did walkarounds on the ship to keep an eye on things. I don’t think they noticed me half the time. Donovan had begun spending quite a bit of time among the aliens. Golems officially, after some creature in the ancient fantasy literature he was so fond of. I called them Bigheads, but not out loud.
It was the evening of our eleventh day and I was dusting in the control room when Donovan burst in, fleshy face flushed with either excitement or an impending heart attack caused by his fifty-yard dash down the corridor from the other end of the ship.
“I’ve been invited to Share Knowledge!”
Turning from the panel I was dusting, I tried to summon at least a show of enthusiasm. “Really! Now that does sound interesting.”
His eyes gleamed. He looked even heavier now than when we’d arrived. How he managed to gain weight on ship’s rations was beyond me, but he had.
“It’s their oldest and most scared ceremony,” he continued with unmistakable pride, puffing out his chest. “They’re doing it tonight.” He paused, then added, “They’re only doing the ceremony for me.” He was trying not to show it, but I saw he took great satisfaction in this.
Maggie appeared in the doorway and handed Donovan a travel bag. “They’re waiting.” She was so obviously envious I thought she would turn green. “Keep good notes.”
“You know I will.” Donovan drew himself up and sucked in his gut. At least I think he was trying to suck it in. I didn’t notice much difference.
He marched proudly from the ship. I watched through a viewport as a group of six aliens greeted him. They pressed their long-fingered hands against him, grinning at each other, showing their teeth. They and Donovan vanished into the blue-hued trees at the edge of the clearing.
#
The next morning I was outside checking access panels when the aliens reappeared. I couldn’t tell if they were the same ones who’d left with Donovan or not. The sun, more orange than Sol, made everything look as if it had been dipped in orange juice. The aliens trotted over, grinning. I was about to yell for Maggie when she rushed out of the hatch, practically falling down the ramp. She greeted them in their own language. Ah, the wonders of hypnotic induction learning.
They’d been chatting back and forth a few minutes when Magdelin abruptly paled. She choked out a few more words before clamping a hand over her mouth and hurrying back into the ship. The aliens wandered off toward the trees.
I went on board and tracked Maggie down. She was coming out of the fresher, looking better, but still shaken. “What’s wrong?”
“Donovan’s dead.”
Damn, that wouldn’t look to good on my record. “Dead? What happened?”
She shuddered. “They said the ceremony went well and that they’d never shared so much knowledge before.
“And that it was delicious.”