pdf file - Notes from An Alien

"Velu, I swear you've lied about your age."
Father and daughter shared laughing vibrations with their brief hug and were jostled along by the stream
of passengers/settlers/criminals.
"Dad, you seem perfectly calm."
"And, you, my sweet, seem perfectly enthralled. Looking forward to the hunt, eh?"
"Can we actually do it? I know we're both resourceful and all that but..."
"Velu, you're on a quest and I don't think it's just to find a biological father."
"If I find him, I'll have two fathers; one I know everything about and one I'll have to explore."
She grasped his hand, pulled him to the side of the stream of passengers then around to face her, and
said: "Suris was her name—running water—she flows on and on..."
Jalur knew his daughter to be poetic but, "Suris was her name", shook his being. He hugged Velu, long
and hard. She said: "Come on, Father, into our future."
They'd reached the section where passengers were being directed to their respective spaces. Their
endocrine implants were scanned and they were issued an interface pad for the ship's simulated recreation. The
pad was necessary since they were very special to the Corporation and wouldn't be subjected to the same
recreations as their fellow, electro-shocked, passengers.
He knew the ship would be isolated from the plasma tube reaching toward Anla but wondered how the
Corporate leaders could continue to be so deeply mistaken if they thought the Anlans hadn't deduced foul-play
from a ship that actively blocked the thoughts and feelings of its passengers. This war was completely irrational
and he was irrationally happy he was plunging into the unknown.
Jalur and Velu found their compartment and greeted their flight-mates—a male who seemed to be near
Velu's age and a woman who was looking at Jalur with intimate longing...
The plasma shield around ShipOne was worthless while it was orbiting Anla. The proximity to the planet
permitted penetration by well-trained minds. The crew, reduced to four through insanity-induced suicide, had
had their minds and emotions completely infested by the Angan priests.
Mr. Sastu, most recent Chief of the Corporation—a corporation with no board of directors—had decided
to communicate with the crew as they prepared for launch back to their home World.
"Hello?"
"ShipOne to Anga Control, we read you."
"Oh! Yes... Anga Control. Somewhat of a joke, eh?"
Mr. Sastu's secretary whispered something in his ear.
"Yes. This is Mr. Sastu, Chief of your Corporation. How are you all doing?"
The man at the controls of ShipOne looked around at his pitiful crew and said: "We're in hell, sir."
"Ah, well, you'll be home soon and we'll make it heaven for you."
"I doubt that, sir."
"Who am I speaking with?"
"Officer Spra, sir."
"Well, Mr. Spra, get on with your work. Bring that ship home."
"Doing that, sir."
"Good..."
There was a lengthy pause then the voice of Officer Spra: "Boot us out, Tlin, and pray for our souls, Mr.
Sastu."
There was another lengthy pause, then, after his secretary had whispered in his ear again, Mr. Sastu said:
"We look forward to your debrief when you've returned. Bye for now."
Mr. Sastu glanced at his secretary and rose from his chair. As he left the room he felt like he was
stumbling even though his gait was a well-practiced stride of confidence.
Officer Spra broke into a fit of heaving sobs.