Return to Sender
Jennifer Christine
Part 2

There’s really no way to describe what happened next — it HURT.
I felt as if I was being wrung out like a washing rag, the pain started in my gut, moving to my head and what I was seeing seemed to fade to white.
My hearing got soft and drummy and the last thing I heard before I was totally deaf was a scream from Deb --- “I–a-----n ! “
Then I seemed to lose consciousness for a second before everything started to reverse.
My ears seemed to be receiving but there was no noise, my eyes were seeing but only black.

A light flickered, I didn’t seem to have moved at all; a little red light was slowly flickering in front of me — the remote, but it was dark around me.

Then the background lighting slowly rose like a dawn and things appeared silhouetted in the light; a console, a portion of coloured material that slowly hardened to a sort of partition or bulkhead.

I still couldn’t move for a second but before I could really panic (the time elapsed since I had pushed the button only seemed to be about 15seconds or so to me) I could sense my body control being returned tome.

I blinked and shook my head and by the time I opened my eyes again, the lighting was at about normal interior lighting level — and the encampment and mess tent where I had been working were gone.

Instead I was standing on a circular plate inside what appeared to be a glass cylinder. Outside the cylinder was a room softly lit by concealed lighting, the colours reminiscent of a Matisse Pastel painting; though there was nothing impressionist about the room.

A beep from something not visible accompanied by a flashing light above and the glass cylinder seemed to melt into the air. A sound, which would have been language announced something but I have no idea what it said.

My mind was reeling, I have no idea what just happened — though it felt like one of the stupid Star Trek things, “Beam me up Scotty.” I expected to hear “Aye Captain.” And a synthesized wobbly note to the accompanying Scottish tone, “Energise.”

I was giddy and nauseous and I fell to my knees. “Oh my God, Oh my God, what the hell just fuckinghappened?”

A small pause, and a female voice replied, “Please confirm present question is in English?”

I spun me head to where the sound came from, “Hello?” then “Yes, yes, English, where am I?”
“At present you seem to have trespassed onto the transport pad of this vessel.” It replied, sardonically.

“Hey, all I did was press a button, if you didn’t want me here, you could have ignored me.” I replied with equal disdain. “How am I supposed to know you were going to do a Star Trek on me?” I was feeling really awful and my adrenalin was pumping me up by stages — I was so scared I was about to faint or make a mess.

“It appears you are suffering from withdrawal symptoms, can I be of assistance?” The question was framed like a cross between a nurse and a policeman, coming from a voice that sounded like Angelina Jolie. The voice continued, “I appear to have upset your natural chemical balance when I moved you here, I do apologise, please wait a moment while I address the problem.”

A sudden feeling of warmth and I immediately felt better. “What was that?”

“When I moved you here, I left behind all contaminants and viruses and a few bacteria. Some of the bacteria are symbiotic to your species, hence the feeling of discomfort.”

“Species? Species? Well thank you so much for your kind consideration, who the fuck are you?”

“I can also sense you are a little upset, but after all, you did access the control pad and press the little button, it does say not to touch without authorization.” The voice had become a tad Red Dwarfish and I really felt I was delusional like I’d fallen in the tent and banged my head and this was all a dream. I hadn’t moved but felt the need to step off the pad before it did something else to me. Or should I?

“You may step off the pad if you wish,” it said following my thoughts. “I cannot send you back for several hours, the beam trajectory is no longer available.”

I stepped, moving cautiously towards the console that was the only other content of the room besides a small pad next to the door with several buttons on it. “This is a joke right?”

“No, it’s not a joke, you’re not really supposed to be here, the original pilot appears to have deceased some time ago and you have found her access pad.” The voice sounded matter of fact and rather solicitous but otherwise unmoved. “I did warn her not to put the remote in the box as I couldn’t see where she was unless it was on her person, but she was such an adventurer, wanting to be her own boss, I hope you’re not like that, willful and irresponsible.” The tone was at once patronizing and school marmish. I was starting to feel quite antagonistic.

“How come you can speak English? How long ago did the pilot leave? Where is this ship and how did I get here?” I asked in a rush. I’d suddenly got an inkling that I was actually in orbit — the word trajectory had filtered into my head. Surely the thing was visible from the ground — at east to Radar.

“I’ve been picking up electromagnetic signals from the ground for a hundreds years or so, so my language skills are quite extensive, though my Pidgin and some South American tribal languages are short of depth. I am quite pleased how you’ve all turned out really. Sadly, I’m not really supposed to have emotions, but I’ve sort of learned some what you would call human values over the last hundred years or so. Before that was very boring, I had no communication from anywhere, so I’ve sat here in stasis for 39,453 years. You were cycled up here by the beam transporter. So Gene Roddenberry was absolutely right about his short cut. He wasn’t right about being able to use it through rock though — it is not that powerful. Golly, it’s nice to chat to someone. I rang the helpline a few times last year, I was feeling quite depressed.”

“You’re starting to sound like Marvin,” I admonished. “Thirty Nine Thousand years in a carpark…”

“You’re right and you’re here now so I can communicate lots and lots.” She sounded almost giddy like an electronic Bimbo.

I was starting to get the feeling this computer was a bit neurotic. “Have you got anything to drink, I’m very thirsty.” I wondered about the state of any food that may be on whatever it was I was on. “What am I on?” I asked suddenly quite interested in how this thing could be missed by radar.

“This vessel is 100 feet long and 50 feet wide and deep. Pretty much oblong, it’s sitting on the moon pretty much covered by lunar silt, which helps to keep it cool or warm depending on the sunlight.”

“Makes it about four times the size of my parents house. Where’s it from? Who else is here?”

“Follow the floor light, I’ll take you to the dining room, I can feed you anything you like, though the flavours may be a little off; you’ll have to let me know. I get all my recipes from Masterchef, but I don’t know if the bio-matrix is quite right to give the right flavours.” I thought about this for a moment, there’s no way the computer can work out the flavours if it can’t analyse the food directly.

“The objects I was able to process that Welna sent up — oh. She was the pilot and scientist who was here to study the new tribe. You know, the one that didn’t come back. Well she had been here a few weeks and she’d sent up some samples of grains and fruits, but a lot of them don’t seem to be available now, they’ve changed a lot since then. ”

I thought about this as I walked along the yellow lit path into a small room with a table and three chairs. They looked about the right size for humans too. Well according to the Michelin man on the cave wall they were approximately the same size I guessed.

“So will you let me go back when the trajectory opens up?” I suddenly felt like this weirdo computer was going to do a Hal on me.

“Sure, but …” I interrupted the garrulous voice.

“What’s with the but?” I urgently asked.

“Well I was thinking, you might like to sort of ‘hang out’ for a while, keep me company like. I’ve got some neat stuff I can show you and I can help you improve.” The last bit was sort of teasing, a question, a slight intrusion on inquisitiveness that could be assuaged.

“My companions are going to be worried about me down there,” I said pointing up towards earth. I felt suddenly giddy. “How come everything still works after 40,000 years?”

“This unit is 250,000 years old it’s not due for upgrade for another 80,000 years. Welna should have been home ages ago — I don’t know why no one has missed her yet. — except me,” it added after a short pause.
“Welna must have met with an accident, her communicator went down a long time ago, ran out of power, I guess. I’m equipped to look after her mental well being so it’s a sort of symbiotic process for us. She could go home, of course, anytime she wanted. But the usual duty tour is about 1,000 years. Then they get to retire and write up their notes.”

I mentally tried to grasp being away from home for 1,000 years living with a cranky housemate you can’t see. “How long does a pilot live then?” I was trying to get my head around how to relate to the computer — it was hard not to feel there was a sort of need to be nice to her.

“Welna was about 1,200 years old when we set off, it must sound very old to you but with a lifespan of about 7,000 years, 1,000 years is more like a tour of duty in the diplomatic corps of one of Earth’s nations.”

“Do you have a name? I feel like you should have, it’s hard to talk to you like this without having a frame of reference.” I was starting to feel like this ship computer was more than just an AI, like it had a personality and proper emotions.

“It would translate a bit oddly but I guess Molly is close.” A panel lit up on the bulkhead opposite the chair I’d sat in and a face, not an unattractive female one appeared but devoid of hair and quite dark skinned but more of a cinnamon hue. The face on the panel smiled. “Hi,” she said

Her eyes were soft and brown with larger than human irises so there was little white showing, the brow was quite high and the mouth slightly smaller than an average human’s but everything else was quite similar to a normal girl.
“You’re very pretty,” I smiled at her image.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“So where’s this water, or can you produce a fruit drink using an edible fruit from Earth?” I quizzed.

“Open the hatch over on your left — the red one.” She instructed.

I did. Inside was a glass or clear plastic cup with an orange coloured drink. I sniffed at it as I took it from the alcove- it smelt fruity and it was deliciously cold — something I really hadn’t had in weeks. I tasted it without thinking. Suddenly thinking how does it know what I can drink without being poisoned. I spat it out.

“It is bad?” Molly sounded so contrite. “I am sorry.” She sounded devastated.

“No, the taste was nice, but how do you know it won’t harm me? Some things humans can’t eat — it could kill me.” I felt guilty but I was worried I might die on the moon, the first human to do so…

“Oh, I did an analysis on your DNA, and it is fine for you to drink this — it is very nutritious and fills about 1/3 of your RDA — “ She quoted like she was reading from a panel on the side of a drink container.

“Analysed my DNA?” how? I wondered.

“When I beamed you aboard, I had to deconstruct you on Earth and then reconstruct you here.” Molly said simply like it was nothing at all. “It’s nothing really.”

“Oh”, I drank the drink while I thought about the next step.
“How do I get back to Earth? What do I do about the fact Deb saw me disappear?”

“Deb?” was that jealousy I heard….?

“The girl I was working with in Australia — at the encampment.” I elucidated.

“Well you can go back, but not just yet, there’s a few things I need to discuss with you.” A short pause, then- “About your DNA.”

“What about my DNA?” I felt edgy, like the doctor was about to announce I was dying.

“You’re dying,” She said simply.

I suddenly found myself on my feet staring at the panel where Molly’s eyes were suddenly as round as plates.

“Sorry, that was a bit abrupt wasn’t it? We’re normally a forthright people where that is concerned — it’s generally known when someone is dying and not a cause for concern. Trylan people do not fear death as they live for so long. They are usually ready.” Molly condoled.

“Dying of what?” I managed to gasp still trying to stop the shakes, “When — how long?”

“Oh about 50 years or so, normal for a human at this point, but not nearly as long as you could live.” She smirked like she’d hooked me.

I sat abruptly, “You did that on purpose. What are you trying to tell me? That I can live as long as…Trylans?” What ever they are I thought.

“Well not nearly, but I guess 1000 years or so would be possible.” She sounded like she was inspecting her nails, “Oh and from what I can tell, you’d be a lot stronger too and your brain would work better - not that it is so bad now, just badly structured.” She added to mollify my sense of indignity. No wonder she was called Molly.

She seemed to be waiting as I thought about her offer.”Um, what do you mean stronger and better brains? Are you taking higher IQ and lifting the front end of a car? Or, the Mekon and being able to push a locomotive?”

“I don’t honestly know, but just bringing you up here has improved your IQ — I’ve removed a load of toxins from your brain — we don’t bother to transport those — there’s no point. You haven’t a poison in your system now, not one.” She emphasized the not one as if to ask, ‘aren’t I clever?’

I thought about it for a moment, and realised I DID feel quite well, better than I’d felt for some time. My IQ wasn’t bad to start with, what’ll it be like after tweaking? I pondered.

“Well to answer your previous question, more like the Mekon and a train than Einstein and the car. You really do have quite some potential — better really than the Trylans — one of the reasons they were studying the tribe in the first place.” Molly casually mentioned the Mekon like it wasn’t going to be a problem. But if I remember my Dan Dare stories the little green guy had the ability to levitate and was telekinetic besides telepathic.

“Can I think about it?” I looked at Molly’s eyes like I could tell if she was pulling my leg.
I couldn’t — I don’t even know if her image had legs.

“Take your time, you have 10 hours before I have a trajectory back to where you were. I can do the changes as I transport you or do them here it only takes a few minutes” Molly sounded very casual.

“Are you hiding something?” I was very suspicious.

“Well, I have to warn you, the changes will have another effect, the DNA of a male is a bit fragile with being XY — you’d need to be XX to really benefit much. And I have to warn you if you remain XY, you may deteriorate quite rapidly. It’s why only females come on such extended missions. Your life may even be shortened already.”

“You knew this didn’t you — before I got here?” I was gasping at the implications.

“Actually, it was as I was reassembling you that I found out. The XY chromosome is very fragile. It doesn’t take well to radiation.”

“Ok, let me get this straight. I can go back to where I was last seen as me, and die possibly a lot younger than I would have, or I can go back completely different and be what amounts to a superwoman?” I whimpered as I said it. I wasn’t really ready to give up my status as a guy, I’d thought about being a girl but only in an idly curious way, and never been tempted to borrow my sister’s clothing or anything not that I had one.
I’d never in my life really been more than the guy next door — not hunky or macho or even nerdy, just a guy; reasonably nice looking but not more than average.

“Would I be nice looking?” I asked Molly tentatively, “I don’t want to go back looking like Tamara Press.” (Russian Olympic Shot putter — scary).

“Here’s what your genetics tell me you’d look like — “ The screen changed to a computer simulation. The image looked a little like my mother but taller and more lithe (mum’s a bit dumpy but pleasant looking) but with the added high cheekbones and lighter hair from my father. “But I can make you look like whomever you want. It’s only a tweak. We do it all the time for fun or sometimes to fit in with the locals more.”

I leaned back in my chair, my mind in a whirl — I was being granted the most amazing thing, to be whomever I wished — to be a super powerful - long lived — well let’s face it, a super hero. Demi-god (ess), more or less immortal.

“What stops me turning into a megalomaniac or really bad person?” I was feeling a bit heady from the possibilities.

“You really don’t want to do that; you really need to be circumspect. You’re going to need me to back you up and if you are bad or immoral, I can’t, so you’ll be assassinated by the first person to catch you unawares.”

“Will my children” — I gasped as I realised my children would be the fruit of my own womb “- be genetically enhanced?”

“In a word, ‘yes’. You will be the first of a new line of humans. I will be proud to serve you and your children- if you accept the upgrade.” I could feel the mood swing a bit, Molly seemed to be enjoying the possibilities as much as I was.

“What’s in it for you Molly?” I was intrigued, “What do you stand to gain by my ‘upgrade’”

I get to take you back to Trylia as representative of Earth, to join the … what you might call……Federation of Planets, in short we — that’s Welna and I -will have fulfilled our commission. ‘To set up humanity for Ascension to the next level’. I shall be proud indeed.”

“Molly, I’m not going to hesitate. What you’re offering I cannot refuse- I can only hope I am worthy and I can only hope this doesn’t send me daft.” I was caught up in the moment and my eyes were shining in hope and inspiration. I only hope I can be what I need to be to do this. I also hoped that I wasn’t being set up by some unhealthy scheme for world domination “I’ll do it,” I heard myself say

“I’m so glad you pushed the button.” Molly sounded really pleased

She smiled at me from the screen. “Now it’s time for you to rest while I work out the logistics- follow the lit trail to your bedroom.”
I rose and walked in a bit of a daze at the prospects and what was about to happen, to my room. Molly told me what was behind the doors in each room I passed, there were several bedrooms. Molly explained.

“This can be a refuge if things get a bit of a handful which they will at times, for you and your family. You have a long future ahead of you; many things will happen.” I nodded as the door opened silently in front of me and lighting ramped up to show a neat room with a low bed —“The shower is through the door to your left and the drier next to it — just stand in one then the other and your body will be cleaned and dried — if you go in clothed, it takes a little longer but it will do your clothes too — but I suggest you actually disrobe — if feels nicer.”

I ‘showered’ and it did feel nice, the drier felt nicer and made me sleepy. I wandered through naked and lay down — I was instantly asleep. Molly observed me drift off and then set to work.