Kraken Mare by Jason Cordova, Christopher L. Smith Page B
Authors: Jason Cordova, Christopher L. Smith
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this development is?” Dr. Marillac asked me for the umpteenth time a month later as we walked through the Gallery together. Quite a few of the krakens seemed to be lounging about in their specialized pods, basking in the artificial lights. The area had been designed as a lounge for the scientists, but the discovery of the krakens had turned it into dual-purpose section.
I had tried to simply shrug off the scientists at first, but Doctor Marillac was insistent. I'd finally given in and allowed her to pester me and ask me seemingly pointless questions. I had been reticent about answering but eventually I started replying in more than one syllable words.
“They recognize you, John, and actively communicate with one another that you're here,” she said as she folded her arms across her chest. She looked at me with a look that was a strange combination of annoyance and excitement. “This development puts their QE at potential human levels.”
“Don't crows do the same thing?” I asked, trying to deflect her interest. The scientist was undeterred, however.
“Not like this. Crows call out for each other with distinctive cries,” she explained. “The krakens don't communicate that way. We thought their wings changing in color tone was indicative of a language we hadn't deciphered yet, but now we're thinking that it's body language and their real language is more empathic and they can detect this in others. It's the only explanation to how they call their brethren outside The Well to come into the facility and look at you.”
“Empathic…telepathic?” I stared at her and shifted my feet uncomfortably at the idea of aliens in my head. I scratched my chin to hide my unease as I recalled some book I’d read a few years ago. “No. Empathic is being able to feel…emotions, right?”
“Correct.” Dr. Marillac clapped her hands together and smiled broadly. She seemed immensely pleased with my apparent grasp of what she was trying to explain. “We're beginning to gather enough evidence to prove that they are both sentient and empathic beings, which we can bring forth to the UN for official recognition in accordance with UN Resolution 9012. Can you imagine it, though? Aliens, real aliens!”
“The UN is going shit themselves,” I muttered as I thought about the various geopolitical power struggles within the UN and the impact such an announcement would make. “I bet most of the countries will veto it, since the US and her allies have funded almost all of the research here.”
“No, I was thinking of the fact that we've scoured the known regions of space for signs of intelligent life, and it's been in our own backyard the entire time,” Dr. Marillac said, her tone slightly deflated.
“Oh. That too, yeah.”
“I never understand you soldier types,” she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You march around with your assault rifles—”
“A tranq gun is hardly an assault rifle…”
“—and your battle armor—”
“The impact absorption shirt is nothing more than an extremely thin layer of pillow to prevent me from getting punched hard enough to damage my internal organs…”
“—and when the greatest scientific discovery in the modern era is found, all you can think of is how a global cooperative of nations is going to try and shut us down,” she complained. “Just such a typical attitude of a warmonger.”
“Hey now,” I looked at her, surprised at the outburst. While excitable, I'd never seen the doctor angry before. Nor had she ever shown any sign of being anti-military. Goes to show you that you never really know someone until they get worked up. She blinked and looked away, confusion in her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I have no idea where that came from.”
“It's okay, ma'am,” I said in a neutral tone. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, thinking. I did not need the lead scientist at the best job I'd ever had pissed off at me. I also didn't want to lose this
I had tried to simply shrug off the scientists at first, but Doctor Marillac was insistent. I'd finally given in and allowed her to pester me and ask me seemingly pointless questions. I had been reticent about answering but eventually I started replying in more than one syllable words.
“They recognize you, John, and actively communicate with one another that you're here,” she said as she folded her arms across her chest. She looked at me with a look that was a strange combination of annoyance and excitement. “This development puts their QE at potential human levels.”
“Don't crows do the same thing?” I asked, trying to deflect her interest. The scientist was undeterred, however.
“Not like this. Crows call out for each other with distinctive cries,” she explained. “The krakens don't communicate that way. We thought their wings changing in color tone was indicative of a language we hadn't deciphered yet, but now we're thinking that it's body language and their real language is more empathic and they can detect this in others. It's the only explanation to how they call their brethren outside The Well to come into the facility and look at you.”
“Empathic…telepathic?” I stared at her and shifted my feet uncomfortably at the idea of aliens in my head. I scratched my chin to hide my unease as I recalled some book I’d read a few years ago. “No. Empathic is being able to feel…emotions, right?”
“Correct.” Dr. Marillac clapped her hands together and smiled broadly. She seemed immensely pleased with my apparent grasp of what she was trying to explain. “We're beginning to gather enough evidence to prove that they are both sentient and empathic beings, which we can bring forth to the UN for official recognition in accordance with UN Resolution 9012. Can you imagine it, though? Aliens, real aliens!”
“The UN is going shit themselves,” I muttered as I thought about the various geopolitical power struggles within the UN and the impact such an announcement would make. “I bet most of the countries will veto it, since the US and her allies have funded almost all of the research here.”
“No, I was thinking of the fact that we've scoured the known regions of space for signs of intelligent life, and it's been in our own backyard the entire time,” Dr. Marillac said, her tone slightly deflated.
“Oh. That too, yeah.”
“I never understand you soldier types,” she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You march around with your assault rifles—”
“A tranq gun is hardly an assault rifle…”
“—and your battle armor—”
“The impact absorption shirt is nothing more than an extremely thin layer of pillow to prevent me from getting punched hard enough to damage my internal organs…”
“—and when the greatest scientific discovery in the modern era is found, all you can think of is how a global cooperative of nations is going to try and shut us down,” she complained. “Just such a typical attitude of a warmonger.”
“Hey now,” I looked at her, surprised at the outburst. While excitable, I'd never seen the doctor angry before. Nor had she ever shown any sign of being anti-military. Goes to show you that you never really know someone until they get worked up. She blinked and looked away, confusion in her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she apologized. “I have no idea where that came from.”
“It's okay, ma'am,” I said in a neutral tone. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, thinking. I did not need the lead scientist at the best job I'd ever had pissed off at me. I also didn't want to lose this
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