Chapter Text
It had been many years since their mate had left. They wanted to search for him, and all the other Eridians. So they built another ship. Set to go to the same place their mate was. They boarded the ship with a smaller team and many rescue equipments. Despite others warnings, they pursued.
They all wanted their mates back. So they set off.
In going to their mate’s last known location, they passed through many areas. One, however, was very strange.
The pilot was having trouble navigating. They got restless waiting. So, so long they waited for their mate. But something was ruining the navigation system. Something was blocking out the stars.
The Scientist took sample of the substance creating a blanket of sorts. A strange mutation of star-eater. It was entirely solid and blocked off their echolocation. Even with probing around, they couldn’t clear the blanket. It was then, they sensed something. A planet small enough to be a moon, but with strange properties.
There were things on the surface. Things moving on the low-rough textured planet, said the Scientist. There was a thing moving below the surface. The moon was filled with a strange goopy iron liquid, but there was definitely something inside of it. Perhaps something with answers. If it was shrouded in star-eater, it may hold information about it.
So they prepared a chain. A very, very long chain they attached a claw to. A big chain too. They worked on it tirelessly with other engineers. Then the chain was sent down. It was almost not long enough, and on the way pulling it up there was… interference. A much larger shape was bashing into the side of the container.
But finally it was pulled up. The Scientist did a scan and found the vessel was full of the molten iron. Perhaps the atmosphere of whatever squirmed around in it. They also found traces of oxygen gas in tanks. In gas form, it could possibly be used as a fuel. But through much debate, the Scientist decided to use oxygen in the observation tank.
It was more commonly found in planet atmospheres, and made sense it would be supplied for respiration. With some very careful cutting, the iron-based liquid spilled out. And with it, life.
There was something living in there. It exhaled some form of carbon dioxide and took in the oxygen.
It was a strange form of life. A thin stretchy exoskeleton and thousands of fibers on one end of it.
It was asymmetrical as well, whereas one half had two limbs, the other only had one and a stub. After quite some studying, the Scientist deemed something was wrong. It would not move, and it seemed to be struggling to breathe.
To their frustration, the ship redirected to leave the dome of mutated star-eater and back to Erid. The life form’s condition was deteriorating.
When they returned to Erid, it seemed almost lifeless.
They watched as protected medics carefully dragged the life form into an enclosure. With a bit of prodding, they found more out about it.
It was composed almost entirely of dihydrogen monoxide, around 60% according to the scientists, and possibly relied on it for nutrients. If they were going to get information from the life form, they needed to ensure its survival first. So they put a carefully made container of the dihydrogen monoxide into the enclosure, as well as the previous contents of its digestive organ.
The methods of obtaining a sample were… crude. The expulsion of the contents of its digestive system was even more crude, borderline disturbing.
But the scientists were able to synthesize nourishment for the creature, composed of what the medics dictated were essential for bodily functions.
It too was put in the enclosure. But the alien life form was still leaking the iron-based substance. Medics decided it was an unhealthy leak, and it must be patched immediately. It was possibly fuel for the life form, and its leaking could result in a shut down, for lack of better terms.
They were just an engineer, but they helped to design the enclosure to be a bit more comfortable for their new specimen.
They helped bring in the strange metal tube and made a soft material synthesized from similar materials as what the specimen covered itself with.
The leak was stopped with some of this material, and all that was left was to wait.
They were dozing off at the edge of the enclosure when it awoke. It made panicked grunts and roars but didn’t make it far before falling.
It thankfully became aware of the sustenance and put the liquid and solids in its digestive tube. It seemed a bit more calm in its movements, its head turning this way and that. They watched it curiously as it approached the glass, making soft grunting noises at them.
They tried to initiate conversation, but it didn’t seem to understand.
A language barrier.
But they had all the time on Erid to figure this out. Unless the star-eater killed them first.
Numbers were a good place to start. The alien understood their time-telling device, and associated a word with it. They got to numbers, and that’s when it got more challenging. The alien could pronounce its own language, but neither of them could pronounce the other’s.
It took a very long time for them to memorise each other’s speech patterns.
But they understood a few of the alien’s words.
“Water” referred to the liquid chemical dihydrogen monoxide.
“Food” referred to the solid nourishment.
They brought it more when asked, and it said “thank you” in return.
“Thank you” appeared to be something the aliens said when they were grateful for an action or service.
Identification was still something they struggled with, but after a few sun cycles, the alien wanted lots and lots of “water”.
They supplied it in a large trough, in which the alien curiously shed its outer layers of cloth and entered the trough for quite some time.
Eridians did not take “baths”, as there was no water on the planet. But it made sense to clean oneself, and so arose the term “bath”.
To their horror, liquid was coming from the alien’s light sensors. It said a lot of words they didn’t understand, but the rough translation of the word “cry” was “sadness dihydrogen monoxide-sodium chloride solution”. The alien “cried” often when given what they had assumed were essential for survival.
They came upon another realisation in the form of “happiness dihydrogen monoxide-sodium chloride solution”; this alien species “cried” for many, many emotions. The alien species also had a lot of emotions. And the more it cried, the more “water” it demanded.
The “crying” was composed mostly of dihydrogen monoxide, so it made sense the alien’s bodily fluid reserves were depleted when the light-sensors expelled the solution.
The alien taught them some more basic words to go along with what they already knew. The dihydrogen monoxide-sodium chloride solution coming from the light-sensors- “eyes”- was called “tears”. And tears were very normal.
The iron-based liquid contained in the alien’s thin, pliant exoskeleton was called “blood”. It was very normal, but it shouldn’t be leaking out if possible. The alien requested more cloth, in which it wrapped the stump of its “arm” in. The arm, as it made them aware of, was supposed to still be there. The alien species was commonly born with two.
“Human.”
That was what the alien called itself. Not a name- a classification. It still was unable to provide a proper name, but it gave a species name that translated something into soft outer skin.
Human, it said, while covering its clothes in “water”.
“I need to clean the blood out of my clothes. The water does that,” the human had explained very carefully for them. It made some sort of sense. Its garments would need to be cleaned as well, or else the initial “bath” would be rendered useless.
They made many, many notes about the grammar of the human’s language. “I” referred to the speaker, “you” often referred to the listener, but was not a name imposed upon the listener.
The human drew pictures to help. It would trace shapes into the soil that they could see. When it learned they saw by echolocation, it started making deeper lines and raised shapes. Sometimes it arranged small rocks and pebbles into pictures.
“Tree,” it said, pointing to a tall figure with many sharp limbs and round leaves.
The human wanted a tree.
“I get for you,” they had said. It took a few tries for the human to understand them, but eventually it nodded.
They went right to the other engineers, chattering away at what they wanted to do. A section of the enclosure was closed off, and the human watched as they built a tree for it.
“Uhm… gee, thanks. I guess I should’ve been more specific,” the human grunted out words they only semi-understood.
“Trees are… alive.” It leaned up against the wall of the enclosure. They chittered curiously, scooting to the side to properly sense its face.
“They are alive and they are green and brown..”
“What are new words, question?”
“Colours. Like… well, I guess you don’t see things with light, do you?” The human hummed.
“No translation for new words, apology.”
“‘S alright, I guess. Can’t be a word for everything.”
They shifted slightly. Clacking an appendage against the glass before the human spoke again.
“Uh… thank you. For everything. I have been asking a lot from you.”
“Of course, human! Happy to help you, statement.”
Simon crawled through the hole in the hull of the Iron Lung, curling up on his lazy cot of woven fabrics. These aliens were… nice to him. Strangely enough, he felt safe here.
Maybe abduction wasn’t so bad after all.