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The night was a strange one for him.
Brooks had heard crickets and other such night creatures before – immersion audio made it sound, he had been told, like one was really there.
But he had never had the experience. Antarctica had been too cold, even before the Ring Collapse, for such things.
The night sounds on Ko were different, yet he could hear how they had convergently evolved to be similar. There was some kind of drone from something he could imagine to be large crickets. Cries of creatures that might be arboreal mammals or night birds. The calls of some kind of predator, answered in kind.
Even on other jungle worlds he’d been on, he’d had a full shelter unit. They could be collapsed and carried on one’s back, but offered high protection and dampened outside noises.
Their camp this time was lighter. He had to be able to listen for sounds.
And so he had a symphony all night long.
It marveled him to think of just how much life was right outside of his shelter’s walls.
Once, the sensors detected something outside the tent. A small crawling creature that went around the edges of the shelter before heading back off into the night.
Despite it all, he found himself drifting off to the sounds.
He awoke later on to the sound of Kai stepping out of her half of the shelter and into the night.
“Is something wrong?” he asked her softly through comms.
“No,” she replied. A few minutes later she returned.
“What was it?” he asked.
“Something big came close. But the drones dissuaded it.”
He fell back asleep.
The first glow in the sky awoke him.
Ko’s day was longer than Earth’s at 27 hours, so he’d gotten a lot of sleep.
Rising, he checked his logs, but nothing had ever tried to take a bite out of his boots.
Considering for a moment, he decided to wear the mocassins and put his spaceboots over them.
Eating a breakfast stick, he and Kai headed back towards the bridge.
“There,” she said, pointing down.
He looked, and saw in the muddy ground smeared footprints. They were approaching the camp – but in a rather sharp turn moved away.
The prints were over half a meter long.
“It was something big,” he said.
The drones told him that the !Xomyi had not crossed the bridge, but it took a few more minutes for the sensor drones with the group to bring in their data; they went dormant when their target wasn’t moving to conserve power and were slow to reactivate.
He felt relieved when it said they were all still in their camp.
At the bridge, he ordered Kai back to an overwatch position and sat down at his end of the tree bridge.
There was nothing to do but wait and hope. If the !Xomyi did not come, he would have to go to them. It was a much more dangerous prospect – his approach could be interpreted as hostility.
Looking into the sky, he realized that he could see Omen even now.
It did not move in the sky, having fallen into a geosynchronous orbit. It hovered low off to the West, directly above the main continent out that way.
Even in the light he could make it out easily.
The day warmed, and he decided to take off his boots, folding them up and putting them in his pack. He stuffed the pack into a hole on the tree and covered it with bark.
The mocassins would be better to meet them in. His boots had been a silvery-gray, unlike his coolsuit, which was mostly tan – like worked hide.
The sun was almost directly overhead, and he’d gotten another leaf to cover his head, sticking the stem to his back with a fastener.
Then his sensors pinged that the !A!amo were headed towards the bridge.
“Kai, we’ve got friendlies incoming,” he said.
“Copy. Let’s be sure they are friendly before we let our guard down too much, though.”
He didn’t reply to that. She wasn’t wrong; sometimes isolated groups could be intensely violent towards outsiders.
If the !A!amo decided they wanted to throw spears and shoot arrows at him when they saw him, they could. This was their planet, and he was an intruder.
He just hoped fervently that it would not be the case. Not for his sake; his coolsuit should protect him from those basic weapons, leaving only his face vulnerable.
He heard a click in the distance; Kai had cocked her rifle.
“Eyes on,” she said over the radio.
“I see them,” he replied.
It was the same two that had been scouting yesterday, the sensors told him.
He saw them now, just their heads visible above some foliage.
Their eyes were slitted against the light, and they were scanning across the river bank carefully.
He did not move.
They looked at him and their heads ducked back down, turning towards each other as they disappeared.
A moment later, one peered back out, its eyes open a little more, followed by the other. They stared at him for nearly a minute before ducking away again.
They were almost sixty meters away, and it had been hard to make out much detail. One had paler fur than the other, but it seemed sparse on both. Neither had any visible ornamentation.
He suddenly remembered that he still had the leaf on his head.
Well, he thought. Perhaps it would help him seem like he belonged here.
“What are they doing?” he asked Kai. He did not want to take his eyes off the jungle to even bring up the drone data.
“The two are moving back towards the group . . . they’ve reached it. They’re stopping.”
He took a deep breath. “Let’s see what they do.”
Minutes passed. “They’re taking their time about their decision,” Kai said.
“Hopefully I don’t look like some kind of monster from their mythology,” he replied.
“They’re moving again. The group is splitting up into two – most are moving away. But five are headed back towards the bridge.”
“It’s time to say hello,” he said.
The first to raise its head out was one of the previous two. It regarded him calmly, at least as far as he could tell. It was far too soon to have a real bead on their emotional reactions.
More heads appeared. He saw the other from earlier, and from its darker color he began to surmise that it might be younger.
The newcomers all seemed to have more pale fur, even some wrinkles visible underneath.
They all watched him, and he watched them back, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.
Sweat ran down his brow into his eyes. He blinked and reached up without a thought to wipe it.
The group seemed to find that alarming, two ducking out of sight.
Then all of them disappeared. He cursed his possible mistake, but a moment later one stepped out, coming to the end of the bridge.
It was the older of the two scouts. It climbed up on the log, staring straight down at him.
“Ik pe! ok scri! nya!” it cried, raising its arm. It held a spear in it.
His system whirred into action, but it could not find an adequate translation.
The body language was unmistakably a challenge, however.
Brooks slowly held out both of his hands in front of himself, palms-up. He was unarmed.
An older one came out, yelling at the first. The first one looked back at him and argued, seeming like it was about to jump down and retreat.
But it stopped at the last moment, making a motion that Brooks’s system could translate; it was a refusal.
“Give me your best guess at what they are saying,” he said to his system.
“The second elder adult is telling the younger adult to leave the log. The younger adult is refusing,” his system told him.
Not much more than he already knew.
The younger one also came out, jumping up onto the log easily. It regarded Brooks differently than the other.
“It is curious,” his system told him.
The one on the ground ordered that one to come back. It obeyed, but then the one still on the log said something that seemed to upset both on the ground.
An argument broke out, and Brooks was concerned about tempers flaring more. He leaned forward, moving to a kneeling position.
All their eyes came back to him.
He held up his hands again, showing that they were empty.
“Do !Xomyi use a similar gesture for one to come towards them?” he asked his system.
It whirred. “Such gestures with similar meanings have been observed.”
He waved them closer.
The young one came back up on the log, taking a few tentative steps forward. This time the elder did not object.
The older adult moved past it, coming yet closer. It kept its eyes on him the whole time, moving tentatively, feeling for footing. It still held its spear, and when Brooks shifted it stopped, hefting it again.
After a few moments of stillness, it regained its bravery and started forward once more.
Behind it, others stepped out, all of them coming up onto the bridge except for the elder, who simply watched. Its eyes were closed to slits against the light.
The bravest one came forward until it was only five meters away.
It was sizing him up, noticing that he was bigger than it was.
Brooks estimated it to be almost 40 kilograms and on the taller side for their kind.
It had some clothes on; some kind of skirt woven from grass in a checkerboard pattern. Holes had been punched in its wing membranes, and feathers were hung from some, seashells from others.
Did they go to the seashore to get the shells, he wondered. Or did they trade for them?
The thought vanished as it stepped closer.
It spoke, and his system came through with a translation. “Who are you?”
“I am Brooks,” he said. His mask turned his words into their best approximation of the tongue of the !A!amo.
The brave one stepped back slightly, shocked at his voice.
“Where did you come from?” it then asked. “Did you come from . . .” The last word was lost.
His system struggled. It could not translate the word precisely.
“The word is cognate with both the spiritual realm and the sky based on context,” his system told him.
He considered how to answer.
“Yes,” he said, deciding that it was not truly a lie. He had come from the sky.
He pointed a finger up.
The !Xomyi followed his direction of pointing, gazing skyward before snapping back onto him, startled at having taken its eyes off. It raised its spear again, as if to guard against Brooks springing forward in its moment of distraction.
Brooks did not move. At this range, it very well might put the spear through his head.
His mouth was dry. The !Xomyi hesitated, shifting its grip on its spear, still holding it up. Its eyes were fully, startlingly open, staring at him.
It stepped closer. A few feet at a time, it came up to him.
Brooks leaned out slowly, holding out his hand, causing it to stop and threaten with its spear again. Brooks froze.
Then it began forward again. The spear lowered.
It reached out with its free hand towards his.
He stretched forward. The brave one did the same.
It touched his hand.
For a moment, he could feel the rough skin of its fingers on his, then it pulled its hand back, hefting the spear again, fear across its face.
It could kill him in a heartbeat. He knew that, behind him, Kai had her rifle ready.
But it did not attack.
It stepped back, moving rapidly towards the others, stopping every few feet to look back at him, as if to reassure itself that he was still there and not attacking or following it.
Others had come closer now, almost halfway across the bridge. The brave one spoke to them rapidly, the group listening to him with rapt attention.
Then the youngest of them started forward. The elder talked to it again, trying to call it back. But it refused, and walked towards Brooks.
Unlike the last one, it did not seem so afraid. There was apprehension, yes, but not the same fear.
The first touch had not resulted in harm, he thought it might be thinking, so what was the danger?
It came up to him, reaching up.
He thought it was reaching for his hair for a moment, but instead it took the leaf that he had stuck onto his back, pulling it up to look at his head.
“It is not a-” the last word could not be translated.
“Suspected to refer to a supernatural entity,” his system told him.
“It has some fur,” it added. “But there is no disease on its skin!”
“My people do not have fur like yours,” he said carefully.
The young one looked back to him quickly, its mouth opening and closing rapidly.
“A sign of amusement,” his system told him. “But also of potential aggression.”
“Do you really come from the sky?” it asked him.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Are you a troublesome spirit or a friendly spirit?”
“I am just a being,” he told it. “But I am a friend.”
It did not seem to know what to make of that. But it came closer, reaching up to touch first his cheeks, then his chin.
The rest of the group seemed to have lost their fear – or at least their curiosity had overpowered it.
Only the elder hung back as the other three came up to him. They all reached out, touching his arms and shoulders, his face.
One grabbed his cheek painfully, and he winced, pulling back a little. It seemed to want to do it again, but he held up a hand.
“I am a friend,” he told it firmly.
It shrugged and sat back, just watching.
He reached out and touched them, trying not to seem aggressive. They seemed to accept as he touched their heads and arms.
Up close, he could see that they all had fine tattoos on their wing membranes. Each had its own unique set, the youngest having the least.
Perhaps they told of their life deeds or family history, he could not know yet.
“What is your name?” he asked the one that had approached him first.
It sat back on its haunches. His question did not seem to have translated well.
“What do I call you?” he asked.
“Brave Hunter,” it told him.
“Brave, shaking like a leaf!” the young one said, opening and closing its mouth rapidly.
The others seemed to find it annoying and waved it away, but it apologized.
“What do I call you?” he asked the young one.
“Annoying,” one of the others said. They all started doing their laugh again, even the young one.
“Tracker,” it told him. “I find hamomo. I find-” it used the word again that meant both sky and spirits.
“Is!u,” Brooks repeated.
“Yes,” Tracker said. “I find is!u!” It pointed to him.
Brave Hunter waved dismissively. “Too full of yourself. We both found it.”
The other two named themselves to him as Old Hunter and Good Hunter.
They still seemed reserved about him, though their curiosity had been sated for the moment.
“And the one back there?”
“Knows the World,” Tracker said.
“He sounds wise,” Brooks said.
Tracker laughed. “He knows the world!” he replied.
Brooks tried to emulate their laugh, and that seemed to amuse them more.
But Brooks noticed that Knows the World did not approach.
“I would like to give you gifts,” Brooks said. “I would like to be your friend.”
He carefully took out his bag. Tension had returned to them, but as he set the bag down it turned to curiosity. They poked at the bag, which was bright white with a blue stripe on it.
“Strange hide,” one said.
He opened it, taking out some of the gifts he had brought for them.
They were strips of meat, created on the ship to match their dietary needs. In it were berry-like pieces.
He offered them. Brave Hunter took one immediately, but looked back to Knows the World, as if asking for permission.
Knows the World had no reaction at all.
It was solely on him, Brooks thought. They did not appear to have a well-defined concept of leader – only ones who were wise and worth listening to.
Without any guidance, Brave Hunter apparently wanted to live up to his name. After sniffing the food, he took a small bite.
And he apparently liked what he tasted, because he then took a much larger bite.
The others watched him eat for a moment, then began to eat their own.
“Please, can you give this to Knows the World?” he asked Tracker, offering another piece.
Tracker took it, and went towards the elder.
The elder took it, but only held it, never taking its eyes off of Brooks.
It then made a sound; it was a single word, but his translator told him.
“I am leaving.”
As it went, the others seemed to lose their nerve. They glanced after him and back at Brooks.
“Please take more,” he said, offering the open box.
Tracker came back and took another piece, but the others did not. They all turned, going back across the bridge.
At the far side, Tracker stopped to look back at him. Brave Hunter then put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him towards the jungle.
Brooks felt himself wanting to slump down in exhaustion. But they might still be watching.
“Not bad, Captain,” Kai said over the radio.
“I think,” he replied, “that went well.”
Other Terrestrial 
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