Fred — that was the persona he had adopted on earth — floated in microgravity at the controls of his ship far above the blue planet. He knew he should shift back to his normal appearance and enter stasis for the long journey home. Instead, he adjusted his trajectory so that he hovered directly over a particular city in the southern United States. He hummed to himself and then softly sang, “Long distance information, give me Memphis, Tennessee….”
Observe and report. That was his mission. He didn’t even have to visit the surface of the planet. But he always did. Even the planets that were completely devoid of life, he thought, warranted at least a cursory personal appearance. Just so he could say he did. And he had a portfolio full of souvenir images for proof. The planets with life though, those were risky. He had to avoid interacting as much as possible and certainly wasn’t allowed to interfere. He had never counted on meeting Ginger.
While he knew that physics made it impossible, her eyes seemed to shine and twinkle with a light that came from within. Her voice was low and sweet with a musical quality to it. Music, human music, that was something else he had never counted on. He sought it out at every turn and that’s how he had met Ginger. There were musicians right out on the street here every day and night. He couldn’t believe how indifferent most of the humans were to what they were hearing. But some vocalized in tune with mechanical devices while others gyrated their bodies to the tempo. Ginger did both.
“Staring and slack-jawed” was the way she later told him he had appeared. She had said hello and reached out her hand for him to join her in the gyrations then laughed when she saw the look of panic on his face. She thought he was just too shy to dance with her. His first impulse was to turn away, get lost in the crowd and return immediately to his ship. But something kept him rooted to the spot. He had seen similar actions by humans so he tightened a couple face muscles that pulled the ends of his oral orifice upward and rotated his head laterally back and forth a couple times. And he kept staring, though he managed to tighten those jaw muscles.
Somehow, Ginger had found this endearing and when the band took a break she came over and talked to him. She used a lot of words he didn’t fully understand — they didn’t seem to match the dictionary definitions he had studied. But the sound of her voice mixed with the scent of jasmine that radiated from her body still hot from her recent activity. Fred was mesmerized. Even though his body wasn’t really human, he thought he felt an unmistakable attraction, a desire for his body to be close to hers. He had observed mating rituals across half the galaxy and he had never felt anything like this.
Fred suddenly realized he had gone way beyond just observing, that even this innocent interaction with Ginger might have far-reaching effects. Mumbling what he hoped was an acceptable excuse he left abruptly. “I hope I see you again,” she had called after him. “I’ll be here tomorrow night.” Nothing in what he knew about magnetism or gravity or nuclear forces could explain the drag he felt on his body as he forced himself away from her.
And now he hovered. How odd, he thought, that indecision stills weighs heavily even in microgravity. The longer he stayed in human form the more desperately he wanted to stay on earth and seek out more time with Ginger. If he returned home as he knew he should he certainly would never again be trusted to go off-world. He could not orbit here indefinitely, he had to make a choice. Then he realized… of course, there is only one choice….
So, dear readers, I am curious. What choice do you think “Fred” made? Did he stay on earth, return home, or realize that he had another option? Please leave a comment.
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[Note: Learn more about Fred and Ginger here. ~Tim]
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