Alice: The Girl From Earth

5

The ships landed on Coleida early in the local morning. By the time the locks were open the guard on duty at the field camp’s com center had already managed to awaken all the archaeologists and they, pulling on their clothing on the run, hurried to where the ships had landed in a dusty field tracked over by the robots and excavatory machines.

“I’ll go out last.” Gromozeka said to the temporalists and Alice. “You are our guests and I a mere archaeologist. They already know we’re bringing the time machine and will be delighted to see you. Alice, dress more warmly; I promised our father that you would not catch a cold. On the other hand, a cold or sickness that needs microbes will not threaten you; there are no microbes on Coleida.”

“Why not?” Alice asked.

“Because on Coleida there is nothing at all that is alive. Not people, not animals, not planets, not flies, not microbes. Space Plague eliminates everything alive.”

Alice was the first to exit the ship.

There were some thirty-five archaeologists in the expedition. Not one of them was from Earth. There were Lineans, Fixxians, Ushans, and other scientists. Other than their profession, they had nothing else in common. Among the crowd that came to greet them were archaeologists without legs, some came on two legs, some on three, and some on seven, some on tentacles, some on wheels, and one archaeologist could boast one hundred forty-four legs. The smallest of the archaeologists was about the size of a cat, and the largest was my friend Gromozeka. The archaeologists displayed a varied assortment in the number of hands, eyes, and even heads as well.

And all of the heads were turned to the ship’s airlock, and when Alice stopped in the lock and waved to her new friends, they began to wave their arms and tentacles in answer and started to shout at her in dozens of different languages.

The crowd of archaeologists was even more demonstrative at the appearance of the temporalist researchers, but when Gromozeka appeared in the lock they went wild, clapping Gromozeka with the hands (and tentacles and feelers and wheels) and dragging everyone toward the camp of tents that sprouted like a multicolored soap bubble garden at one end of the field. Along the way one of the archaeologists, the very smallest and most fragile, was nearly trampled to death, but, was able to spy him out beneath the feet (and tentacles and feelers and wheels) of the others and dragged him, battered and nearly suffocated, back into the air.

“Thank you, my child.” The archaeologist said as he curled himself into a ball in Alice’s arms. “Perhaps I shall be able to return the favor some day. My friends have gotten quite carried away.”

The little archaeologist was light green in color, and fury; his round face was dominated by a single purple grey eye.

“I am the Galaxy’s leading specialist in the decipherment of ancient and dead languages.” He said. “Not one Cyberbrain or computer can compare with me. If my companions had managed to crush me, it would have been an enormous loss for science in general and for our expedition in particular.”

Even at such an extreme moment the little archaeologist was thinking about his work, and not about himself.

Alice brought the battered little archaeologist, who was called Purr, to the largest of the plastic domes where the others had already gathered, and with Petrov’s help sought out the expedition’s doctor, a gruff inhabitant of the planet Cromanyon, who bore a strong resemblance to a garden watering can on legs. When the doctor said the little archaeologist was not in any danger, Alice turned her attention to the discussions going on among the researchers.

It turned out that the members of the expedition had not sat on their hands (and tentacles and feelers and manipulators) while their team leader had flown off to Earth for the time machine. They had finished excavating a medium sized city, en toto, with all its houses, streets, markets, factories, movie theaters, and the railroad station.

And after lunch at the long dining table, during which Gromozeka regaled his friends with his adventures on Earth, the archaeologists took their guests on a tour of the dig.

A hundred years had passed since the city had died; the winds, rain, and snows had tried to wipe the city from the face of the planet, and to a great extent they had succeeded. But the buildings made of stone still stood all the same, if without their roofs, and with windows like the gaping eye sockets of fleshless skulls; weathered, the pavements lined with rows of thick tree stumps, still remained in place. Best preserved was the old castle on the hill above the town; its thick stone walls had stood a thousand years or more and would endure the assaults of the wind and rain for far longer.

The excavators were smearing dried wood with preservative, setting fallen bricks and mortar back into place in half fallen walls, carefully gathering up the century’s accumulation of filth and dust from the street and on a bright, clear day the city may have appeared rundown, old, but clean and almost alive. As though its people had departed not all that long ago.

The city’s inhabitants had been very similar to Earth people, but of short stature, so that when Alice found herself in one of the re-built houses she felt as though the table and bed and chairs had been made specially for her.

A small train stood beside the train station. The steam engine had a long tube, but the wagons with large round windows and overhanging roofs were similar to old Earth train cars.

One of the archaeologists, a specialist in restoration who had resurrected the steam engine and train from pieces of rusty scrap, kept the guests at the station for what seemed to be forever. He wanted them to be able to appreciate how masterfully all the handles, buttons, and switches in the ancient machine were made.

Then the guests got a chance to tour the museum, into which the excavators had gathered all the small objects found in the city: pictures, statues, pots and pans, clothing, household utensils, knickknacks and decorations, and everything else. It was obvious just how much work would have to go into returning all these artifacts to life.

“Tell me,” Petrov asked, when the guests had finished looking over the museum. “have you been able to determine precisely when the planet Coleida died, and what it died from?”

“Yes.” The little archaeologist Purr said. “I’ve read the remains of their newspapers and magazines and found numerous documents. Very clearly an epidemic was responsible. The epidemic began on Coleida one hundred years, three months, and twenty days ago. From the description, and taking into consideration the terror of the inhabitants who described it, it is very similar to Space Plague.”

“But how could the disease have gotten down to the planet. They’ve shown the virus can’t make it to the surface through the atmosphere. That means, something or someone brought it. Could it have been a meteorite?”

“That we have not been able to determine. It could be.” Purr said. “All that is known, is that the first news of the strange disease appeared in the newspapers on Seventh Day, Thirdmonth, year 3070 by the local calender.

“For the explanation we have turned to our temporalist friends.” Gromozeka finished after him. “That is why they flew here, after all. Consider, my friends, victory is almost in sight!”

Gromozeka shook his tentacles, flashing the sharks’ teeth of his enormous maw; all the archaeologists shouted, and the temporalist Petrov whispered to himself:

“You’re right about then ‘almost.’“