He finally decided his first stop would be the Heliocentric Solar Systemwith its nine pretty planets and bright sun. The third planet from the sun was his first objective — he’d never been there but had heard a rumor that there was intelligent life on it. Octopi, they were called. The rumor said they lived underwater in great seas, which would be sort of a drag because Gorg could only hold his breath for twenty minutes or so before needing oxygen again, and really, how much meaningful conversation could one have in twenty minutes?
But any creature with as many tentacles as an octopus might have had the forethought to create some sort of tourist stop where he could get informational brochures on the different beasts that inhabited their world.
They might even have a zoo. That would be awesome. While he disliked the idea of creatures being kept in cages, he thought having them all in one place would be ever so much easier than wandering all over the Earth, seeking them out oneby one. Earth wasn’t big by any means, but it was still large enough to make a self-conducted tour problematic.
He liked convenience. It was…convenient.
Beyond brochures and zoos, he really wanted some excitement, something interesting to happen, to experience some sort of grand adventure, and to have a tale he could tell his grandchildren when they gathered around his tentacles on the holiday.
Not that Bloober Day—there was only one holiday on his planet, which in part contributed to its overall boring nature -- was exciting or even especially interesting. It was tiresome, like every other day, except there was more food and storytelling for groups of bored grandchildren.
Bloober Day commemorates the first time his people discovered that flatulence was a renewable source of energy.
That was it. The entire extent of the single global holiday was based on a fart.
B-O-R-I-N-G.
Gorg wondered if the Earthling octopi had holidays and decided they were too smartnotto have them. They probably had lots. One for every one of their tentacles, at least. Maybe two.
He was startled by a loud thump that made his entire spacecraft shake. He’d been so wrapped up in his internal monologue that he’d completely missed the fact that he’d flown directly into the middle of a meteor storm.
Another thump followed the first, and he winced at the damage the meteors were doing to his craft. He’d worked so hard refurbishing it this past moon cycle, too. It was an antique and cherry. Or had been until it started being pummeled by meteors.
The fiery meteors with their long, sizzling tails were beautiful but deadly as they shot past his ship in a dazzling display.
He banked left, then right, threading his way through the meteor storm, trying to avoid the big ones while taking his lumps from the little ones.
Eventually, he flew out of the storm, and when he did, he spotted a pretty blue planet in the distance. Finally, something went right for him for a change! His destination was in sight, and he hadn’t even had to consult the EGPS – the Extraterrestrial Global Positioning System. Sweet! His mother had insisted he install it because he hated to stop and ask for directions. He’d argued that he hadn’t needed it, and now he proved it by finding Earth all by his little lonesome. Meteor shower notwithstanding.
He descended into the atmosphere, hoping the dings he’d taken from the meteor storm hadn’t damaged his shield to the point where he’d burn up during entry, which would undoubtedly suck.
When he remained flame-free, he breathed a sigh of relief. That is until every light on his console lit up, and all the alarms went off.
He struggled with the controls, fighting them. They wanted him to plow into a mountain range while he tried to aim for a water landing. He almost won the fight but missed the water by the skin of his tentacle. He kept the nose up long enough to avoid a jetty of big black rocks, then crashed head-first into the sand lining the shore. The belly of the ship skidded and bounced along for quite a while before reaching a stop, its nose buried in a dune.
When he stopped shaking and started breathing again, he figured it was time to debark. Seeing the planet was, after all, why he was there. He could check his craft a little later to see how badly damaged it was. In his heart, he knew he was just stalling — he didn’t want to know how terrible the destruction was and knew instinctively from the roughness of the impact that it would be devastating. He’d probably totaled it. Chanceswere good he’d need to phone home for a ride back, which would be mortifying. His dad had been after him for at least seven moon cycles to get a new craft, or at least an updated version of the one he had, but he’d insisted on keeping the antique. Now look where he was. Stranded on a distant planet with a busted craft you could barely get parts for anymore, and out of warranty.
His dad would say he told Gorg so, and worst of all, he would be right. His mother would wring her tentacles and wonder where she went wrong. Ugh.
Gorg decided he could worry about that later. For now, he had a planet to explore and Earthlings to meet.
He checked his instruments to ensure the air was breathable — no sense in taking a chance on his head exploding even if rumors said the atmosphere was perfectly sustainable — and was pleasantly surprised to find the air quality was very similar to that of his home planet. That was great news; his ship’s portable breathing apparatus was as antiquated as the vessel — it was bulky and uncomfortable to wear all the time. Not to mention inconvenient, and he’d already made clear to himself how he felt about being inconvenienced.
He opened his hatch and popped his head out.When they called this the little blue planet, they weren’t kidding,he thought. There was a blue ocean to his left, extending as far as he could see, all the way to the horizon, with waves lapping at the shore and a giant bowl of blue sky above him. There was a structure on his right, a residence of some kind, he presumed, and eventhatwas painted blue. Perhaps the color blue was sacred on this planet. That would be an intriguing factoid to add to a tale. Not exciting, but interesting at least.
The rhythmic sound of the ocean was soothing, reminding him of the Great Purple Inland Sea back home on Jizm. For two moon phases every tri-season, he and his familywould go to the shores of the great inland sea and camp there, contemplating its impressive purpleness.
Why? He had no idea. The inland sea was always purple. It was purple last tri-season, it was purple this tri-season and it would be purple next tri-season, of that, he had no doubt.
It was boring to sit there and stare at it, which was why he’d skipped the latest family gathering to go on this trip.
One of the smart things he did was intercept satellite broadcasts from Earth as soon as he entered the space close enough to do so. He couldn’t understand the language yet, so he just watched the images. He was amazed that the octopi he’d thought were the predominant species on the planet were, in fact, not.Humanswere. Handsome little devils, they were, except for their sad lack of tentacles. Otherwise, some of them were quite attractive. The discovery made him excited to learn more, and he watched their satellite broadcasts with eager anticipation.
The first thing he did was learn their language. It was easy enough with his supply of LBMs—Language by Mouth—a pill that allowed one to absorb any oral language overnight. Just pop one before bedtime, leave a recording of the language you wished to learn playing all night, and by morning, you would instantly be able to communicate.
Of course, everyone used it to get through all the language courses at University, although the instructors considered it bad form.
Screw them. How many times would one need to speak Ancient Hzabethian, anyway?
