Planet Love

By Gail Brown

Kara slowed the spaceship in orbit around Planet Loreia. Loreia was the destination for those who needed a break from the mental stress of daily life, as if there were so many of those these days. Or was it cycles? Truly the cycle on a ship was so different from a planet surface. Any planet.

She clicked the comm. “Arrived at Loreia. One week on the surface. I’ll be waiting.” Kara sighed and sat back. A week of silence.

Sheldon walked onto the bridge. “Coming with us? You don’t have to.” He tilted his head to one side and watched her.

Kara closed her eyes. Of age. Alone. Grieving the distance, and likely death of all of her family. No one would be surprised if she didn’t go to the planet’s surface. However, a week alone was an even worse prospect. Alone with her thoughts, fears, and dreams. Adrift alone in the ether over a world she had never stepped foot on, or breathed the air of. “I’ll go.”

Sheldon nodded. No more words needed to be said. He turned, and left her to her thoughts.

Loreia. Where people communicated through telepathy and sign language. She wouldn’t be able to hide her thoughts and fears. Too late now.

 Sheldon and his team of scientists hurried off to explore Loreia’s ancient artifacts. Their research hoped to find a link between the inhabitants once spoken past, and their current communication style. It was an interesting combination of telepathy, sign language, and a few verbal words used with children. More complicated than Kara thought she could manage. It was hoped this would help scientists communicate with people who had lost, or never had, spoken language.

A few hours later, Kara examined artifacts in the host’s display cabinet. 

Their host, Fendallyn, looked at her expectantly. “Need?”

She felt a tickle in her ear. Or perhaps, the edge of her brain. “Maybe a walk. Is there a garden near here?” It would be wonderful to see fresh vegetables after so long in space. Hydroponics wasn’t the same as sun and rain grown vegetables.

Fendallyn held out both hands. “Come.”

She waved him on. His words were few and far between. Although, on Earth, the lack of words would be a sign to be watchful, it was normal here. These people spoke few words. Mainly to foreigners, and small children.

They strolled through a garden with flowers and plants she didn’t recognize from her limited studies of this planet. She stooped to touch one that resembled a rose. Like the yellow rose left in her best friend’s hand before she was buried only a few months ago. That rose had bloomed much as her friend had. Once, for a short, sweet time, she had been a mother to a newborn infant. All taken away by an unexpected illness that the doctors had not recognized, and even now, couldn’t name. Perhaps it had been a dormant virus picked up on the asteroid they had explored days before.

Kara held her hand out over the bloom, without touching it, and closed her eyes. The beauty and strength of the flower flowed to her hand, through her skin, to her brain. A beauty beyond words. A strength in times of fear. That beauty could reach her, and pull her heart out of the fear, to rise and continue on.

Something rather like a tickle in her brain pulled her out of her memories. The tickle scampered around the edges of her thoughts and feelings, and then scampered back out. If she were on any other planet, she’d assume it was electricity from the flower. Here though, Fendallyn could be testing her. Or trying to read her mind. She opened her eyes and looked around for him.

He was an arm’s length away, watching the flower. At least to a less observant person. There was an energy about him. One that was different from the people she knew.

“Fendallyn?”

He opened his eyes. The extra ridge above his eyebrows raised almost to his dark hair. “You a researcher too?”

“No. Were you trying to read my thoughts?”

He shook his head. “No. Determine if you can transmit like we do.”

“Transmit?”

“Thoughts. Pictures. Feelings. Structure.”

“You think I can?” Kara pulled her hands back away from the roses. He seemed sincere.

Fendallyn nodded. “Think so.”

“I don’t want you reading my mind. I don’t want to read other people’s minds.”

He laughed. “Not like that. More like your spaceship comm. Have to be close, or intend.”

“Really.” Kara tilted her head. “What was I thinking?”

Fendallyn pointed to the rose and held his hand over it like she had. “Listened to the flower.”

Yes. That was what she had done. Listened to the flower speak to balm her pain. Only, it too had spoken without words.

He pointed toward a bench.

They sat amidst the many growing and flowering plants. “Some of you speak without words.”

Kara hesitated and closed off bits of memory. Fendallyn must never see those forgotten memories. True. In intense relationships, or other circumstances, humans spoke without words. “You use sign language as well.”

“As do you sometimes.”

“Only those who are deaf, or deafblind.”

“No. More. You don’t realize it.”

The tickling sensation began again. This time, she felt more than saw hand motions, independent of words. Their meanings could be many, and depended on the words that went with them.

“You sent me images.”

“Yes. Try to send one back.”

“How?”

Fendallyn held out his hand. “Hold your hand over mine as if it were the flower.”

She looked at him.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Kara held out her hand and closed her eyes. Energy raced through her fingertips. She pulled back a little. Then let the questions form in her mind.

“Do many people talk vocally here?”

“Few. Only too young children, or when visitors arrive. Several generations ago, we had stopped altogether. Now, we try to revive spoken words.”

“Do people like to talk aloud?”

“No. It’s still considered rude in public. Anyone might hear your words. That may never change.”

Kara laughed. So opposite of humans. “Do you understand my thoughts?”

“Some. Your experiences are so different. Lots of pain, I can tell. We only listen for the words you want us to hear. It would be rude to delve deeper. Though, we do check for emotions of someone we first meet.”

“No matter what?”

He smiled. “As long as you don’t commit a crime, you are safe. Then, only the examiners have the right to delve deeper.”

Of course, that made sense. She pulled her hand away. Exhaustion overwhelmed her.

“Come. Speaking like us is tiring at first. Few are able.”

He led her back to his home, hands only a body width away. No touching, no spoken words, only a gentle leading energy emanated from his mind.

It was so simple to communicate that way. She let her mind reach out to feel what was around her. A sense of peace.

Days passed as she practiced with Fendallyn. It became easier to communicate. They were soon able to transmit without having to be quite so close to each other. A relief to Kara.

They could sit on the bench and transmit their thoughts and feelings. Fendallyn soon began to transmit their culture’s history to her. It was far more beautiful in pictures, thoughts, and feelings than words printed on a screen.

“Do they ever change?” Could the pictures be altered as they passed through collective generations. It was a concern. Almost as much as altered written words. The meaning of words, written and spoken, altered over time. Would a picture?

“Our communication has limitations. Some plants and animals have not been seen since the speaking days, and we don’t have names for them. Only pictures. We aren’t sure if the pictures are corrupt, or if they died out.” Fendallyn looked out over the garden. “What your team is doing may help us understand that foggy past. We don’t know what happened. Most of our spoken language is forgotten.”

“That’s not good. Sheldon will be back soon.”

“No one else who has visited us has accustomed themselves to our way of communicating as well as you have.”

Kara lowered her head. It was a unique and easy way to communicate. A one step process, not multi-step like seeing, feeling, thinking, and organizing before the words would arrive on her lips. She had accepted their style so easily. Would she be able to communicate with Sheldon when he returned?

“What are you thinking?”

Kara glanced at Fendallyn. “Don’t you know?”

“No. We learn as small children that when the thoughts move, we stop listening until we know the person wants us to hear again.”

“How do I learn that?”

He laughed. “We can go to a public place where there are many people.”

“I’ve hardly seen anyone else since Sheldon left.”

“You haven’t spoken aloud in several cycles. You need to, before you forget how.”

Kara laughed. 

Fendallyn held his hand out. “Let’s go.”

They walked through the town to a restaurant on the river bank. Another beautiful place she wished there was time to explore.

As they sat at a table, she expected to hear the cacophony of other voices in her head, as if they were whispering. Although there was a dull roar, it could have as easily been the river outside.

Fendallyn laughed. “You won’t hear them unless they want you to. By age seven, most children have learned to block out unwanted intrusions.”

“Must make parenting fun.”

“I’m sure it does.”

The waitress walked over to their table and handed them menus.

Kara scrolled through the pages on the menu. She had learned some of the names of the dishes here. The name of one looked like a fish meal.

Fendallyn transmitted a picture of a fish swimming in a stream. And then the picture of the dish that the restaurant served.

The waitress returned.

Kara opened her mind for the transmission.

The waitress displayed her surprise.

Fendallyn laughed. “She can transmit.”

“Go ahead.”

Kara’s fingers shook as she thought about what she wanted to order. She pulled the memory of the picture of the dish Fendallyn had shared moments before.

“Good choice.” The waitress took Fendallyn’s order and collected their menus.

He ordered a similar dish. At least, the transmitted picture was similar. It could’ve been anything.

“Did you transmit it to the waitress so that she would know to come back to the table?”

“Yes. Waitresses carry a device that enhances transmissions. It only transmits a return picture. Some customers are turned off completely.”

“Wow. Hope that never happens to me.”

“Unlikely. A customer has to be extremely unruly for that to happen.”

As they waited on their meal, Kara and Fendallyn transmitted thoughts and feelings about societal expectations and rules of conduct. There were so many to remember.

After the last bite of fish and fresh vegetables, Fendallyn transmitted a picture of kids playing. “Do you want to go?”

“Why?”

“A way to practice. People let their blocks down there, and you can practice blocking. Or listening.”

“Okay.” Kara pushed her chair back. “Payment?”

“It goes on my account. The waitress has already accounted for the meal.”

“I don’t want people to think we are on a date.”

Fendallyn laughed. “You are a traveling dignitary here. Romances are arranged differently.”

“Okay.”

Fendallyn led the way, sorta. They walked side by side, with the transmitting energy the only thing between them. They passed a few houses, and down to a playground by the river’s edge.

Children played chase. Others on various objects centered in the open field. A few splashed in the river.

Adults sat nearby. Some obviously talking. Others quietly watching children. It appeared as if no one noticed their arrival.

Many of the children were young. Young enough to both speak aloud, and project their transmissions.

Kara had to step back; the confusion was overwhelming here. One child ran beside her while speaking, and transmitting at the same time. Completely opposing thoughts and words, to different people.

Fendallyn touched her shoulder. “It’s okay. Let’s sit on the tree over there.”

They sat on a tree a little way away from the other adults.

“How can they transmit to multiple people?”

“Energy connects parent to child. Until they develop blocks around age seven. Then, there is still some connection for years. The distance they can transmit to each other is far greater than between two people. Often, over an entire house.”

“What about couples?”

“They can transmit at a closer distance. Sometimes between rooms. Not always. Depends on the closeness of the relationship.”

“I want to go closer again.”

“Be careful. I’ll stay here.”

Kara stepped forward. The transmissions from Fendallyn faded, though not completely out. A few more steps, and she was close to a group of women sewing nearby. 

Their transmissions were open. She could see the pictures. Children, sewed items, maybe clothes, and other trinkets they were communicating about. She held the pictures of children in her mind, and glanced toward the play area. Several of the transmitted children were there. Was the person transmitting the mother to the specific child, or a conversation about the children in general?

She walked over to them. Would they expect her to speak aloud, or in pictures? Kara didn’t want to scare them, so they could block her if they wanted to. She spoke aloud. “Hi.” 

They glanced up.

Kara closed her eyes and transmitted a few thoughts to the group. “Learning to transmit. Help me?”

The women looked at each other.

Their confusion felt like pins and needles sticking her brain. They had no idea what she had heard or seen in their transmissions. Now, they replayed what they had shared to verify if anything important had been sent.

“How well do you transmit?” One woman transmitted to her. It was partially garbled by the background of children and other women.

“I ordered my meal today.”

“How can we help you?” another woman asked. “Seems as if you are doing well.”

Kara closed her eyes. The picture Fendallyn had sent her of blocked minds arose. Somehow, she had to be sure she transmitted it correctly. Incorrectly had a different meaning.

One of the women pointed to a stump near them. “Join us. Listen to the children. You’ll learn. You’ve been here how long?”

Kara glanced back through her memory. A week. Or maybe two. She had lost track of time.

It was a tiring afternoon. She listened and practiced blocking, as well as transmitting to multiple people at once. Not as easy as it sounded. Soon it seemed more natural to her than speaking aloud.

A young boy crashed on the ground near them. “Home.”

Kara understood his transmission. “Who is your mom?” She sent back.

He stared at her flat forehead and backed away.

One of the younger women laughed. “I’m his sister.” She then put up the block and transmitted directly to the boy.

The block felt like a cover that rolled over the images she transmitted. Although, a tiny glimmer of them peeked through. Then, the woman lowered the block. “Some blocks are light, and let images through, others are like a slap. You don’t want to feel those.”

Kara nodded. “I was feeling it, trying to understand it. How it works, why, and so much more.”

“We know. Children here do that. Eventually, they stop. Maybe you can help us.”

“Fendallyn asked me to. I don’t quite understand how I can.”

“You’ll find a way. He is waiting on you.” 

“I better go back. My team should be back today.” Kara stood up. She transmitted the thought of happiness, and a picture of a flower.

Fendallyn waited for her beyond where she had left him. “I thought it was time to come back for you.”

“You left?” She had reached easy transmitting distance.

“I had a few things to take care of. They would have found me if you needed me.”

“I never felt you leave.”

“I was outside of transmitting range.” Fendallyn glanced at her as they walked up the street.

“Are you sure? I know you helped me.” Kara struggled with the thought. She had been alone, without the only person who knew who she was here on Planet Loreia. His presence had continued to feel as if he were by her side. Sheldon and the team didn’t count, as they couldn’t transmit thought and picture. Or communicate with no researchers.

They reached his home and went inside.

Sheldon waited for them. “Kara, are you ready to go back to the ship?” His voice boomed and echoed off the walls. Had spoken always felt like that? Did the children here speak softer? That was why Fendallyn had taken her to the playground.

“Not ready yet.”

Fendallyn laughed. “You can’t transmit to him.”

She turned to him.

Sheldon had a confused look on his face, and shuffled his feet.

“Sorry Sheldon.” Her voice cracked. “I want to stay a while longer. You’ll need to update the databases before we can leave anyway.”

He stared at her. “Okay. We’ll go back to the ship. I’ll check back in the morning.” He turned and walked out the door.

Kara giggled.

Fendallyn walked toward the kitchen. “You could always stay here.”

Kara stood up straight. “Here? I’ve imposed on you long enough.” Her mind swirled as she attempted to block his thoughts so she could separate hers from his. As she did so, she realized she didn’t want to block her thoughts from him. Some part of her kept reopening the block.

“You’ve integrated here. I only thought you’d be able to read a few transmissions, not nearly all. Almost as if you belong here.” Fendallyn returned with warm drinks.

“Belong? I’ve never really belonged anywhere.” Kara sipped her drink. “There’s a lot to think about. Not sure I want to stay anywhere long.”

“Where is the longest you’ve stayed somewhere?”

Kara closed her eyes. Memories washed past, like a flowing river. She didn’t even try to block Fendallyn from seeing them. So many memories. One ship, the Clam, she had lived on for over a year with her mother while young. Even then, they had visited dozens of planets. None of them had meant anything.

Fendallyn’s memories reached out to hers. His whisper of emotion asked her to think of how she would feel if she left here today. She pulled back. Sheldon had been close to her. Their ship was home. Or had been for a few months. Going back to it didn’t seem right. It wouldn’t be easy to return to speaking, now that she could communicate this way. It was so much easier to relay information without all those extra steps to create sound and words.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Fendallyn’s words floated through her mind. They drifted further away.

She opened her eyes.

He wasn’t there beside her.

She sat her drink down and stepped out into the garden.

He sat on a bench waiting.

Deep down, Kara knew he had spoken from there. Not beside her. They had bonded. The bond could be broken. If she chose to. Either by returning to the spoken universe, or choosing to live with another person here on Loreia.

She walked up to him and offered him her hand.

He had taught her how to reach herself. How to reach others. Did he feel as she did?

Fendallyn touched the tips of her fingers. “Your choice. You can change your mind anytime. Ships will continue to come to study our world.”

“I’ll stay. For now.” She sat beside him. The silence of the night was beautiful, with all the transmissions between them. No words. Only precious, peaceful pictures tonight.

Gail’s paired stories mirror daily life as it could be. Perhaps should be, in some ways. Her novels are on her website, and short stories have appeared in Alien Dimensions, Bards and Sages, Earth 2100 (Other Worlds Ink), Kaleidoscope, Lorelei Signal, and The Neurodiversiverse Anthology, among others.