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The eyes were a shock, and the whirling colors around them were more so. Hubcap jerked back in surprise. The alien flinched as well. He held his pose, staring at the strange creature that had crawled out of the woods.
It was roughly the size of a large dog, but there the similarities ended. While its body was long and sinuous, its legs were short, its face tapered into a triangular beak. Its colors were constantly changing. Hubcap could swear that a moment ago the entire creature had been silvery, but now it was a complicated mix of pinks and greens and grays, with patterns that changed almost too fast to see. The colors seemed to come from the skin underneath clear scales, shining with impressive clarity. The alien stared at him unblinking.
He heard the human camera crew whispering excitedly in the bushes, and it occurred to him that no one had scanned for intelligence here. He regarded the creature anew. “Um, hello there,” he said to it. “I’m Hubcap. What’s your name?” He put a hand to his chest then pointed toward the alien, in his best Tarzan-and-Jane fashion.
The creature looked at the outstretched hand, then back up at his face.
“Do you have a name?” he persisted.
Instead of answering, the alien sat on its haunches and imitated his gestures. It was suddenly wearing his colors again; he hadn’t been imagining that. The reflections weren’t quite right, but it was definitely silvery.
And it was trying to communicate.
I hope the meatheads are thinking, he thought to himself. We could really use a translator up here.
The alien’s hand was still waiting in the air, with its stubby claws and a blush of purple. Hubcap moved to grasp the hand and introduce the alien to the fine art of handshakes, but the alien moved first. With catlike grace, it twined around him where he sat, returning to its place and leaving Hubcap wondering if he’d just been scent-marked. He didn’t smell anything new, but he was designed to sniff out humans, not whatever this was.
The whatever-it-was stared at him with its head cocked, looking like a dog expecting him to throw a stick. His turn.
“Wow, okay, so I’m not as graceful as all that,” Hubcap said, listening with half of his attention for the sounds of the humans. He thought one of the crew had been sent back to summon the others. “Um. Okay, well, when on Mars...” Hubcap stood up and did his level best to repeat the motion. He wobbled a bit as he padded around the alien on all fours — it was with no small amount of relief that he sat down on the log again, having completed the maneuver without falling over.
Darn embarrassing, though. He was pretty sure he heard snickering in the bushes.
Then louder noises sounded as the rest of the humans started pushing through the plantlife. They were probably trying to be quiet, but they sure sucked at it.
The alien flattened to the ground in fear as Owen and that nervous-looking diplomat appeared. The camera crew followed right behind, causing the creature to scuttle behind the log.
“Hey, careful, guys!” Hubcap chided the crew. “You’re scaring Rainbow here!”
“Oh, that is amazing,” Owen breathed. “Sit down, everyone; body language is important.” He got the growing crowd to settle onto the wet grass, and Hubcap looked back to the alien while they fiddled with scanners and the translator.
“Hey there, it’s okay,” the robot said at his most gentle. “They’re just noisy.”
The multicolored creature regained its confidence now that the sound and surprises were done with, and it sat back up with regained brilliance.
“Ohh, that’s just beautiful!” exclaimed a biologist.
“Look at the speed of the color change!” added another.
“That’s like an octopus, only better!”
Hubcap let Owen rein in the chattering. He kept his attention on the alien, who had apparently gotten over its startlement. Now that everyone was sitting — and thus shorter than it was — the alien flowed over the log and trotted up to inspect the newcomers.
“Hold still, guys,” Hubcap cautioned. “You may get an alien handshake. Be cool. ”
The alien sat down in front of Owen and easily adopted his colors. There was impressive attention to detail; Hubcap moved closer and noticed patterns for pockets and even seams where the human’s clothing had them. Then the alien rubbed its head against his shoulder and moved on to the next person.
Owen was smiling like all of his childhood dreams were coming true at once. He elbowed the doctor next to him to have the translator ready in case it spoke.
Hubcap looked back to the alien and found it nose-to-nose with Elliot, who was grinning like an idiot at the sight of his own bright orange hair color on the top of the dragony creature’s head.
“Look, it’s even got my freckles!” He pointed in delight. “Do you see?”
Hubcap did see. He saw more than the human did; not only were the freckles the right color, but they were even in the right arrangement. The constellation that was stretched across the long face was a very familiar one.
“That is impressive,” Hubcap said. “So Owen, is this our sentient?”
“Oh, without a doubt!” the biologist said, reaching out a hand but stopping short of touching the alien. “This is remarkab— What’s that? Oh my.” He broke off at the sound of more rustling behind Hubcap, who turned to find three more of the creatures making their cautious way into the clearing. One was even wearing some of the bright scales like armor.
“Hey there!” Hubcap greeted them. “Can you guys grow freckles too?”
They could. These three went into the same routine as the first alien had, copying the colors of the person they were greeting, then rubbing their heads against elbows and shoulders. Hubcap considered this far cuter than he would admit. And they seemed to find him the most interesting.
“They know a superior being when they see one,” he taunted Elliot when the first alien returned to stare at him again.
“They probably think you’re a rock or something,” Elliot said. “And they’re wondering how you manage to move.”
“You can kiss my -bleep-,” the robot said, censoring himself and slapping his hind end with a clank.
Beside him, the alien he’d dubbed “Rainbow” imitated the gesture.
Hubcap guffawed. “I like this one!” he said, pointing and resisting the urge to pat it on the head. “Anybody have some alien doggy treats? Or some fish?”
No one did, but the nervous doctor had an announcement.
“The translator doesn’t work on them,” he said, more loudly than was necessary, dropping it on the grass. “It’s on and functioning, but it can’t read them at all.”
“Well, they haven’t said anything...” Elliot tried to explain.
“Yes they have,” the doc grumbled, jerking a thumb at Owen. “Ask the animal expert; he knows.”
“...They do seem to communicate by color,” Owen said. “That translator only works on spoken language, doesn’t it?”
The psychologist gestured at the machine on the ground. “Of course it does! Every race I’ve ever heard of speaks with words!”
Owen frowned. “Of course.”
“This is pointless! How do they expect us to talk with something that doesn’t talk out loud? It’s impossible!” The good doctor was working himself into an ominous froth.
Without even looking at the man, Owen slapped him on the back, and Hubcap heard the telltale click of a SedEgg. The psychologist sagged downward, falling into someone’s lap. Hubcap looked to make sure the aliens hadn’t been disturbed.
They hadn’t, but when he turned back, the man who held the doctor’s head off the ground was starting to hyperventilate.
“He’s the one who’s supposed to be in charge here!” the man said. “We’re supposed to let him do the talking! Now wh—” Another slap with the SedEgg, and he was slumping over the doctor.
But that wasn’t the end of it; people at the edges of the crowd were starting to panic for no reason, and someone in the middle started yelling that they all needed to shut up and appreciate how awesome the moment was.
Owen swore and shouted commands, and the orderly cross-legged crowd devolved into a bedlam of frenzy and attempts to sedate. Hubcap had never seen so many attacks at once.
The aliens apparently hadn’t either, and they didn’t like it. The brilliantly colored creatures scattered to the edges of the meadow, pausing there to look back at the chaos before vanishing completely.
“No, come back!” Hubcap exclaimed. “It’s okay, or it will be in a minute!” The last face to disappear was the first he had seen. “Rainbow, come back! Aww...”
The bushes were empty.
Hubcap turned back to face the struggling crowd. He pulled out his own SedEgg and waded into the mob. “Shame on you!” he said, stamping the first flailing human he came across. “And on you! You made them leave, with your fleshy weaknesses! Shake it off!”
They didn’t shake it off, and he had to help sedate over half of the crowd and three camera folk before the frenzy was gone. Under other circumstances, this would have been nearly panic-inducing, rather than the height of frustration.
Hubcap stood next to Elliot, looking past the sprawled humans toward the empty plantlife. He searched for an appropriate swear.
“Bleeping bleepmonkeys?” Elliot asked, guessing his train of thought.
“No, this is a family show,” Hubcap said with a wave to Tarja’s camera, which was the only remaining one. He voiced his favorite electronic sigh. “Let’s get the slumbering meatwads down the cliff. Or get the aircar into the clearing here. Or turn this thing into a teleporter.” He kicked the translator. “You know, something constructive.”
“Good idea,” Elliot said.
They joined Owen and the remaining crew in checking the fallen workers for injuries. But Hubcap couldn’t help looking back at the trees one more time.