Adam stood back up, and looked over to the swinging hatch of the suit. As he looked over the life-support functions built into the backpack, his years of intense training started coming back to him – airlock and sterilizer usage, monitoring suit stats, lights and cameras; where the air tanks, water reserves, and carbon scrubbers were and how to change them – the works. Looks like not even cryo can erase those memories, he figured. Just need to focus on recalling them in the moment.
The Strauss suit had a recommended operating time of twelve Terrestrial hours, or almost a full Rhyslinger day, before the carbon scrubbers filled up completely; it was also rigid-bodied, engineered just so one could still move around in it, but air – and by extension, germs – couldn’t penetrate in either direction. Ideally. We still don’t know anything about the nature of Rhyslinger life. I just hope I don’t die. He sighed. But then, that’s what I signed up for, isn’t it?
Donning the suit really was as simple as Louis had described. Once he put on a cooling undergarment, he just needed to step inside the hatch in the back, make sure the limbs fit where they were meant to go, then press a large button mounted outside. The hatch would shut on hydraulic hinges, seal the suit, vent any air back inside the lander, and heat and ultraviolet lamps inside the door would kill off any germs. In two minutes, Adam would detach from TPRU-1, and he would be able to walk around on Rhysling’s surface. Couldn’t be simpler, he thought, just like he said.
He set the book down and looked around for the undergarment. Pretty sure it’s part of the cargo, he surmised. After a moment of looking, he found it bundled away on the bottom shelf, right next to a box of. . . wait, are those diapers? While both NASA and Roscosmos recommended the operator use the toilet before gearing up, it also mentioned using these so-called “waste absorbent garments,” worn beneath the cooling garment, “just in case.” Oh, that’s right. I think I should be good – for now, at least. He stripped off his jumpsuit and slipped on one of the waste absorbent garments, then the cooling garment. Still as breathable as ever. Good for when I start sweating up a storm. Putting the latter on was easy enough, since it was basically a onesie – just like the jumpsuit, which he folded and put away for now – international orange in color, like all the others, with the left side of the chest adorned with the mission patch, his name, and a red, white, and blue star.
Once that little affair was settled, he walked over to the suitport. Grabbing a metal bar above the hatchway, he lifted himself up, tucked his legs in, and slipped himself inside the hatch. Getting his feet inside the boots was surprisingly easy, and the gloves weren’t too tricky either. Once they were rigged up properly, he hit the switch behind his left hand. He heard a prominent hydraulic hiss behind him, and a cold, flat surface press upon his back. Several clicks sounded behind him, and a soft hum started up. This is going to be a long two minutes, isn’t it? At least the air circulation had already started working, so he was breathing fine.
To kill the time, he started exploring the outside of his suit. Along the waist of the suit – below the part of the torso that swiveled – he felt out a series of identical objects. He thumbed a button in the center of one, and pushed it. A soft click told him that these were solid pouches, four which he might use to store anything of interest he would find while exploring. Adam clicked that pouch shut.
On his chest was what looked like a plastic console. He pushed down on it, felt it click, and when he released it, it swung up and displayed several stats on the suit – remaining oxygen tank and scrubber capacities, internal and external temperatures – the internal suit temperature held steady at twenty degrees Celsius, and outside, a colder fifteen degrees – even a timer for the sterilizer, with 1:28 remaining and ticking down. Though that should disappear in time.
His helmet had the light and camera controls, all usable with his now-gloved hands. He heard the lights switch on, noting the bright white glows out the corners of his eyes. He turned them back off – it was broad daylight right now, and he needed the battery power.
There were a few controls on his chest as well. Pushing a button on his left started a fan inside his suit. Handy, but I don’t think I need it right now. A nearby knob he felt out let him control the fan’s speed, before he switched it off altogether.
The next one over squirted some water onto his mouth, nose, and right cheek. He coughed and sputtered for a moment. Great. That’s hydration I’m not getting back. At least I know where to drink it from now on.
And the last one didn’t do anything. Maybe that’s for something not attached to the suit, he thought. Then a moment later, Louis’s voice filled the suit helmet. “Somerset, was that you transmitting?” he asked. “Over.”
Oh, that’s the radio! “Yes, sorry Commander,” he replied. “I’m still getting used to the suit functions. I have T-minus thirty seconds before I detach from the lander. Somerset out.” Well, that was awkward. But at least that’s how I can call them now. He didn’t push the last button, but he could tell it was meant to operate the helmet-mounted still camera. He glanced down on the timer, on a whim.
:03. . .
:02. . .
:01. . .
:00!
As the timer blinked out from the screen, he stopped hearing the ultraviolet hum, felt a sudden series of clicks, and he stooped over just a bit. He was in free motion. Time to set foot on Rhysling, and make history!
The ladder was right in front of him, attached to one of the lander’s legs. Once he shut the chest display, he clambered over to it, swung himself around so he could hook his feet in the rungs, and wrapped titanium-clad gloves around the lander’s scaffolding. Here goes nothing. . . .
Slowly, he reached the bottom rung of the ladder. This is it! he thought. The moment of triumph! As he pressed the radio button to announce the moment, he set his left foot on the ground – not the lander’s foot, the ground.
“Here. . . man has stepped. . . beyond the confines of his. . . cradle and home. It’s such a lovely day outside.”
He lifted his finger from the button. Then he lifted his foot off the ground, placed it back on the lander’s foot, and took a photograph of the footprint. He assumed that it would be transmitted to Zodiac-Altair without delay, but there was no reply – not from Louis, not from Anton, not from anyone else. Figures. This is much too poignant of a moment, and they’d rather not spoil it. All around him were myriad xenobiologic analogues of Earthborne life – trees, bushes, flowers, grass, moss, and all the other things that made him feel oddly at home. He felt tempted to remove his suit – but reminded himself of the potentially disastrous consequences of such an action. Keep it on, Adam. Save your life. Save Rhysling’s life.
None of the Indigenous were near the lander, not even Antir – though as he looked at the nearby settlement, he saw it was teeming with civilization. Equines walking, talking, working, singing, and all the rest. He was greatly surprised to see some of them were even flying over the roofs of the houses and such – and his mind went back to the math exchange. How he had heard a loud clang atop TPRU-1. That must’ve been one of the flying ones. Now it makes sense.
Slowly, he started to shamble to the settlement. Left. . . right. . . left. . . right. . . slowly now, don’t fall over, you don’t know how hard it is to get back up. He hadn’t got the attention of any of the Indigenous in town – it’s a town, right? At least their definition of a town? – but knew it was going to happen at some point. It’s not every day you see a white golem walk into town.
Now that I think about it, Adam thought, I wonder what Antir is doing right now. Probably doesn’t have much more time for me. And as if on cue, a loud pop! sounded just behind him at the lander. He slowly turned around, and saw the familiar violet equine looking right down at him, in apparent surprise.
Antir leapt down from the scaffolding, firmly hit the ground with no apparent sign of pain, then trotted right up to him. From the twin bags it had strapped to its sides, it pulled a chalkboard and a piece of chalk, and with a moment of sketching, showed him a rudimentary stick-like drawing of an equine being and bipedal being – us two, looks like – that rod-like arrow analogue, and what looked like a tree with a door at the bottom of its trunk. Looks like I’m going into town after all, he thought. I’ll just assume it knows the way and tag along.
Antir lit up its horn. He noted a violet glow shroud over his helmet – over the entire suit!? His eyes went wide. He started to panic. He tried to back away from Antir, to break out of its grasp of unknown nature.
It noticed his worry, and just like that, the violet glow went away. What were you thinking!? he wanted to shout at it – but knew that it wouldn’t do him, or the other colonists, any favors to get upset at Antir. His guess was that he was going to be teleported as well, to wherever that door-tree thing was. But I don’t know how that could happen, nor what that would do to me.
By reflex, he pointed to it, then to himself, then used his fingers on his arm in a walking motion, then pointed at the chalk drawing of their destination. Crissake, ad-hoc sign language, and no planning to it either. I hope it got the idea anyway.
To his surprise, and then his relief, Antir nodded. It gestured with a front hoof, pointed it to town, and started trotting along at a brisk pace, slipping the chalk and board back inside its left bag as it walked. Adam started pacing as well, right behind the Indigenous being – though much slower than his guide. Whether it was the suit he was wearing or the lack of experience with Rhyslinger gravity even then, he found it hard to keep up with its trot, which had started turning into a canter. But when Antir noticed that Adam wasn’t by its side, it turned around and stopped, waiting for him to catch up. Is that a look of. . . pity on the face? he wondered. For xeno lifeforms, evolving completely separately from us, they seem remarkably humanlike.
Once Adam was able to catch up, Antir started walking at a much slower pace. It seemed to want to stay by his side – to escort me? Keep me safe from something I don’t know of? Or maybe just to keep me company. Or is it the other way around? I don’t know it that well, but I guess I’m about to.
They reached a well-worn road not long after, with no other Indigenous coming or going in either direction. He and Antir were alone. It kept to Adam’s right, keeping to the same slow pace that Adam could barely manage. I can tell it’s going to be a very long walk.
It sounded muffled, but there came a particularly avian call from overhead. Birds! Here? There’s a lot to unpack on Rhysling’s surface. I’m sure the biologists would think it’s all an elaborate prank. And yet, as he looked down at his guide, whose head came up to just above his abdomen, he had to remember what Antir was capable of – and how real it was. And how badly it can hurt me, even by accident.
There was a bridge on the road, one that spanned across a shallow creek, running well with water. That’s water, right? Gotta be, according to other observations. He gestured Antir to go ahead of him, making sure it crossed the bridge completely. Then he set a foot on the. . . wood, I guess. . . and it did not give way to his presumably-heavy weight. Probably built for heavier equines than I, he figured. And I must fall right within its constraints. Who knows what sorts of heavy loads cross this bridge every day?
Slowly, carefully, left glove clutching the railing, he got up and over the creek, arriving at the other end of the bridge. Antir seemed proud that he was able to accomplish this otherwise mundane task, and set on the beaten trail again. Not much longer to go. . . right?
Eventually, the once-distant houses became within arm’s reach. As tempted as he was to reach out and touch their walls, he knew he probably shouldn’t. I have no idea how delicate those things are, and I’d rather not get into any more trouble than I probably already have. Antir being by his side gave him some relief – if they see it with me, they’ll know I’m harmless and start to trust me a little more.
In front of all these houses, he could see, were small metal boxes on wooden posts. A fully-fledged postal system. Marvelous! I wonder what the lander’s address would be. Some of them also had larger metal bins, full of what looked like refuse. Out of curiosity, Adam peered inside one, to see what constituted ‘refuse’ to these equines. Scraps of paper, metal cans, some food inedibles. . . nothing to indicate a carnivorous diet. As I would suspect. As he looked away, he saw Antir had stopped and looked back on him, with utter confusion on its face. It gestured to him to keep on walking along, which he did.
Up at the crossroads, she pointed right to him, then turned that way. Peeking around the corner, Adam could see a trio of equines on the porch of a house. One turned to greet Antir, in a noisy, clicky tongue – then in apparent shock, pointed a hoof at Adam. Antir seemed to brush off the others’ concerns, and continued to lead him on into town. As he passed by the trio, he held up his hand to greet them, but they flinched at the movement. He put his hand aside and kept walking, not looking back. One step forward, three steps back. Probably.
And from there it just got worse. The next left turn took him to the apparent center of town, where a large, three-story tower loomed right over him. Such high ceilings, for a small species. What’s the rationale? Not to mention the plethora of ponies who all stopped what they were doing to see the new arrival in town. Apparently Antir led him into a farmer’s market, what with all the stands of foods and other goods lining the streets. And of course, none of them had ever seen something like myself, Adam surmised. Still, that’s no reason to stop and gawk back. Best keep moving. Antir gestured him around the central tower – but it was through a large swath of the market crowd.
Oh boy, here we go.
He kept his hands to himself, walked at a steady pace, and tried his best to avoid eye contact with the others. Mostly he was successful, though he could tell there were some whispers amongst them, whispers cooking new rumors about the mysterious guest that walked amid their town. Must be a quiet place otherwise, he thought. Sorry I couldn’t keep it that way.
Parts of the street got rather narrow, almost too much so for him, and he had to step along carefully, making sure not to nudge the equines any more than necessary. On the upside, he was able to get a better look at the wares the equines were selling. Mostly it was stuff they seemed to have grown in their own yards – fruits, vegetables, hay; one stand sold flowers, and several sold baked goods as well. Adam couldn’t help but look all around himself, noting just how similar they were to what he knew back on Earth. But how could that be? he pondered. We’ve had no contact before, not in either direction. What’s really going on here? Still, he had to focus on moving forward, lest he clog up the square. Steady now, steady – you’re almost through to the other end –
Then without warning, he was knocked to the ground.
Standing back up was much more difficult than he thought. It feels like a couple hundred pounds pressed upon my back! He strained his arms, but found he could not move upward even an inch. What the hell’s got me pinned to the ground? His helmet couldn’t rotate around, so he couldn’t actually tell for himself. And I doubt this thing can understand my gestures.
Thankfully Antir came galloping right back, hearing the commotion. It looked up at where the weight pinned him down, and shouted [xõ ɹ̩ʎiluˈɸɑ . ɹiˈɣě ɑnɑˈβu]
A reply quickly came from right above him: [ɦɹ̩sˈlěj .. ʙẽ mɯlˈzl̩ ʒojɑŋdɑˈɹu .. ɹiᵑǃɑˈlɑ̌ ʒoɦubuˈʙu mɯl xẽleseˈxe]
Antir’s tone was firm. [m̥eˈsɤ mɯlɤzˈle jɑŋɡĩɹˈβu]
The other being let out a scoff, and Adam felt the pressure relieve massively from his back. Slowly, he stood back up and dusted off his suit. Thankfully that didn’t activate anything. Once he was back on his feet, he noticed Antir put out her horn. She must’ve helped me up, he concluded. He turned around to see what the other being was – and what he saw made Antir look mundane.
Here was a blue-furred pegasus, with a mane and tail in every shade of the rainbow. Compared to the other equines, who also all had multicolored hair, even this would stand out. That’s got to be a dyejob, he thought. If it’s naturally-occurring, it’s got to be the Rhyslinger equivalent of a redhead. Unfortunately he didn’t get a good look at its hindquarters, but assumed that its mark, if it had one, would be just as colorful.
This Indigenous crossed its front legs and looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. It mumbled out a quick [ɦulɑzɑˈɹu] to him before hurriedly taking flight. And what a hurry that is! Adam thought. The iridescent wake it left behind kicked the dust up from the road just a bit. He turned back to Antir, who also had an apologetic look on its face, and followed along. This time, Antir did not dare go ahead of him, in case another pegasus like. . . whoëver that was might get the drop on him. A sort of diplomatic immunity, at least until I can get some documents signed.
As they walked along, out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw another pony, wearing a stetson hat – another parallel to Earth, which surprised him all the more – and pulling a cart full of red fruits. Apples, right? Analogues thereof, of course. When that pony saw Antir walking with this strange being, it halted and cried out [xõː neˈle], giving both of them the right of way without question. Antir kept him walking forwards, and when they passed, he looked behind him and saw that cart had made a left turn and was heading into the market. No doubt with a story of the white golem, he thought. But then, they have something much more fantastic to share.
Adam felt himself start to tire in his suit. These joints are wonderful, but not magic – they can’t keep me going forever. Eventually he had to sit down – and he did so, right on the side of the path, next to a bench. He could’ve used it, but didn’t trust it to hold all of his weight. Antir came back to him, and found him panting just so. Just leave me here Antir, I’ll be along.
But it didn’t. Instead, it sat down next to him – on the ground, even – to stay by his side. Especially after that incident, he surmised. I wasn’t hurt then, but I could be later on. He looked over to his guide – it was looking this way and that, even above. After a moment, they eventually made eye contact – him noticing how large its eyes were. He knew he wasn’t supposed to take it that way, but it felt like he was looking at a puppy about to cry.
Crissake, that’s cute.
He resisted the temptation to reach out to pet it, but eventually gave in. Just a brush of the finger along the chest, what’s the worst that could happen? A titanium glove glided over to a particular patch of fur, bunched up front and center, and gingerly felt it up to Antir’s chin.
It looked down in surprise – then relaxed and let Adam touch it there. After a moment, it indicated its mane, giving it a flip with a front hoof. Adam rolled around a lock in his glove. It’s a lot coarser than the fur on its chest. I wonder if the same can be said about the tail. Unprompted, he rolled around a few strands of that as well. Yep, it is.
Meanwhile, Antir was curious about Adam as well, but didn’t have much luck. She got to know more about the Strauss suit’s outer workings than the human inside wearing it. Probably for the best.
Another equine happened by, a green-and-white unicorn, with a harp-like mark on its hindquarters. It seemed curious about Adam – get in line, horse – and cautiously walked up to him. She stared at him through and through, curious about the inner workings of this. . . whatever this is. Yeah yeah, drink it in, he wanted to say, but knew that it would be startled to hear him speak. Eventually it walked away, heading to the market – at least, that’s what he assumed.
Adam then realized just how parched he was. Remembering the water straw, he searched it out with his mouth – and when his lips sealed around it, he pressed the button. A shot of cold water hit the roof of his mouth. Ahhh. . . that’s better.
An epiphany hit. He looked to his left, and saw that all the equines in the town were converging onto the market. Stocking up on food, it seems, he thought. But why not you, Antir? Surely it’s not every day the town market is open. . . right? He nudged its side to get its attention – then once it was looking at him, he pointed at it, made the same walking motion with his fingers, then pointed at the market. Instead, it shook its head – no? Yes? Maybe? Something else? – then pointed at him, at itself, made a walking motion with both its front hooves, and then made the especially odd motion of. . . reading a book? So is that place she’s taking me to a library? Rather poëtic, if all that’s true.
Adam found that his breathing had returned to normal. On steadier legs, he got back up, ready to keep moving again. Seeing this, Antir got up as well, and with an outstretched hoof, pointed down the lane – they way they were going before.
Stumbling along, he kept looking around this way and that, to see just how the denizens lived their lives. From what he could tell, it seemed like a quaint little town, what with the ponies hard at work with their jobs – woodworking, smithing, selling, what have you – not unlike his native Earth. Except everyone knows everyone here. I really am a stranger in a strange land. It didn’t help that every Indigenous that saw him reacted in one of four ways – fright, shyness, hostility, curiosity, but altogether all of them could be broadly considered surprise. But then, can I blame them for it? I’ve never seen a real unicorn either. Yet Antir didn’t seem to care about any of that – and, in fact, its presence seemed to put the others at ease. If I’m not harming it, then they don’t have a reason to fear or hate me. Interesting strategy.
His guide took him on the next right, which led him past a farrier, hammering away at a horseshoe. Do they wear them like horses back on Earth? How is that one holding a hammer in its mouth? How often do the Indigenous wear down their shoes? So many questions, yet neither the time nor the vocabulary to find out more right now. As he got closer, he noted that the horseshoe was much too small to fit any of the equines he had seen yet – but when he glanced inside, he saw a much smaller Indigenous, facing away and trembling alongside a normal-sized one. Parents, raising their young. And the poor thing’s getting shod for the first time, I’ll bet. He chuckled to himself. Just like the dentist, isn’t it?
Speak of the Devil, too – four houses down, he saw what he figured to be an actual dentist’s office. No work at the moment, evidently – but he knew that wouldn’t stay that way for long. He didn’t stick around to find that out, however. Though as he looked, he did note that the dentist – a blue-and-white unicorn – had an hourglass mark on its hindquarters. Why an hourglass? Is that an instrument I have no knowledge of? Adam strained his mind to try to find a connection between the object and its work, but ultimately could not come up with anything. Eh, forget it.
At the corner of the next crossroad, there was a small shop selling small colorful confections. A candy shop, I’d reckon. Delightful. This was further evidenced by another juvenile Indigenous, jumping up and down, begging its caretaker for a bit of indulgence – and Adam couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. Me too, buddy. Me too. Unfortunately, NASA and Roscosmos both packed only the essentials, just enough to start up an offworld colony, and sweets weren’t exactly essential. Though at least some of us would object.
This time, Antir didn’t turn – so he didn’t either. Though looking ahead, he couldn’t see a tree ahead of him. Just how big is this settlement? Feels more like a budding city than a town. Or is Antir leading me on a tour of sorts? Christ, if only I could get a map of the place. Maybe I’ll have to ask it. He stopped and knelt down, tapping Antir on the shoulder.
It turned and cocked its head, raising its left eyebrow.
Okay, how do I sign this? Adam took his finger and traced out a random path, then mimed a large piece of paper, raising an eyebrow with the second sign. I hope that works. Please work.
Fortunately, it did understand. Unfortunately, it did not have a map with it right then, and either didn’t seem willing, or was plainly unable, to summon one from thin air. Or teleport one here to me? Is that how it really works? At least that way would not violate the law of conservation of mass. Either way, he was out of luck, so he had to keep walking to his destination, however long that would take. Adam stood back up and kept walking alongside Antir. Like Commander Darcy said, I’m burning daylight. And. . . whatever makes the carbon scrubber work. Wait, how much do I have left? On that note, he flipped up his chest display. Eighty-one percent carbon capacity remaining. Oh, that’s plenty. Even with that much consumed on this entire walkabout, I shouldn’t have to worry too much. He flipped it back down – Antir didn’t seem to notice or care.
Refocusing his attention on the pathway, he nearly bumped into another Indigenous. This one looked like it fell into a vat of paint – its mane, tail, and coat were all a striking pink. Pink must be a common color around here. Does it not appear in their visible spectrum? It drew a dramatic breath, in apparent shock or surprise – then scampered off at an unbelievable speed. . . . okay, then. That’s one contact I might’ve lost. He turned to Antir, who shrugged as well. Really? You live in the same town as this one, and you’re just as clueless as me? Adam shook his head and chuckled. I’m in danger, aren’t I?
With that put aside, he had no choice but to keep moving forward. That library’s got to be around the next bend. . . right? Come on, I can’t keep moving around in this suit forever. Between his agravic-atrophied muscles and the stiff joints of the brand-new, never-worn-before Strauss suit, it was a plain miracle that he was able to walk this far away from the lander. On a whim, he decided to gaze upwards – to see if he could catch any glimpses of tree branches, and gauge his distance from their destination. Nothing so far. Looking behind himself, he saw it was the same story. So either it really is that far away, or Antir really wants me to see the entire town first. But it hasn’t made any gestures to emphasize any aspect of the place in all this time. So what gives?
The next left was a series of houses. Nothing too remarkable to him, nothing to make them stand out from the neighborhood at the town’s edge. And then he saw the ground darken before his eyes. Turning his eyes up, he saw a great mass of clouds overhead – and the pegasi – pegasuses? Whatever – were interacting with them. Astonishingly, they seemed to be able to manipulate them as if they were a solid, even standing atop the larger ones. What sort of technology do they possess? Why haven’t they made greater application for them, like weather manipulation? – Wait, do they actually do that? They didn’t seem to mind his presence, so Adam decided to leave them alone. If any of those clouds hold lightning, I don’t want to be on the business end of that.
While his eyes were still looking up, Adam thought he could see the first glimpse of tree branches – is that it? Is that the library at last? Adam tapped Antir’s shoulder, and signed an open book while raising an eyebrow. Atir nodded. Yes! I’m nearly there! This seemed to put a slight pep in his step, one that the Indigenous could detect. This made Antir break into a trot, picking up the speed – before quickly reverting to a walk to keep pace with him. They came across another crossroad, but they didn’t turn there – no? Next one over? Looking back up, he noted a cloud dart past his vision, being pushed by some unseen rainbow force – must be that one pegasus from earlier. At least it didn’t try to jump me a second time.
The next right turn brought him in direct view of the library. Well, that was an okay start. Had its ups and downs – I can’t seem to walk about my business without startling any of them, but at least only one tried to attack me. Adam sighed – the air hissing through his helmet and back to the scrubber – as he tread forward. I realize I’ll take some getting used to, but this is ridiculous! At least their destination was just up ahead. The chalk drawing wasn’t lying – it really was a building converted from a tree, and more amazingly, the tree was still alive! Might be a parasite species who had lost its host, Adam figured. But never mind that – destiny awaits.