"Hearts of Space pt 1 (revised)" by Heidi Hecht

Tranna made a small adjustment on the telescope and took another picture. She was concentrating on near objects, less than a hundred light years out from Sol System, even though the telescope was capable of clearly making out objects up to half a billion light years away. Just because they could see that far didn't mean Grebsa astronomers wanted to miss phenomena closer to home.

The picture came through and Tranna looked at it for a moment before filing it away for later reference. Nothing unexpected here. She repeated the process in another section.

She nearly missed the unexpected "star" where there should have been none. She squinted at it and zoomed in.

*That can't possibly be natural,* she said to nobody in particular.

Captain Aris came over and looked at what Tranna had found. *We should rule out any human pranks before we do anything,* he said over their telepathic link. *Diagnostics of the telescope, outside checks, the works.*

Tranna nodded, never taking her eyes off the picture. The human crew often enjoyed playing ludicrous jokes on people, even Grebsas like Tranna and Aris, who didn't precisely have no sense of humor, but didn't think the whoopie-cushion level was very funny. This would only be a shade above that. Grebsas certainly didn't see the point of expending so much effort just for a laugh. The human crew was learning, if slowly, that practical jokes, especially ones that involved sabotaging equipment, could mean double shifts for at least a week.

Tranna saved the picture, but couldn't resist one last look. The unidentified object looked like the front end of a shiny and impossibly large manta ray. She shrugged and sent out some work orders. There would be questions about why the Grebsas suddenly wanted a complete check of a functional telescope, but no human on the station would disobey a Grebsa's orders, not if he didn't want to be reassigned to janitor duty or shipped back to wherever they had come from. The humans who weren't here for the prestige that came with space work were here because they had nowhere else to go.

One of the "prestige" types came up to the Ops center: Technician Third-Class Roberta Armstrong.

"Hi," she said. "I just came to run a routine diagnostic on the boards up here."

"Good morning, Miss Armstrong," said Tranna as she moved aside to let her work.

"Anything interesting today?"

"We picked up something that looks like the front end of a manta ray."

"A manta ray in outer space? Weird!"

"I know. I just ordered a complete check of the telescope. You know we like to be certain before we get excited."

"And you like us to earn our keep."

"That, too."

"We should run a software check, too. Remember last month's virus?"

"I remember. I got sick of 'Für Elise' after the first few times around. At full volume, too. Some of us are still half-deaf from that."

"You're right. I forget, sometimes, that Grebsas have more sensitive ears than humans. Hullo, what's this?"

Armstrong had been running diagnostics the entire time and an off reading caught her eye. She knelt and popped off the front panel.

"It's nothing serious. Just an error in one of the optical nodes."

Armstrong made a few adjustments, then put the panel back on. She straightened and gave Tranna an absent-minded pat on the shoulder as she moved on. Tranna returned to her station. She got that a lot from the humans; at least, the ones who didn't think of Grebsas as bloody monsters. Tranna didn't mind, much. She knew how many humans felt about fuzzy animals. Though she wouldn't call herself cute by any stretch of the word, she did vaguely resemble a feline if one didn't count the large wings.

The checks on the telescope turned up nothing. Even two Grebsas went over it, though no Grebsa liked EVA. The suits were bulky and a Grebsa's natural response to leaving a solid surface was to spread his wings, which couldn't be done in a space suit.

Tranna recalled the odd picture afterwards. She aimed the telescope at the same spot, zoomed in, and snapped several pictures. She ran a spectroanalysis on the unidentified object and got back reinforced steel, a small amount of normal space dust, and trace amounts of atmospheric gases. After that, she checked the blue-shift. Ten light years and closing at one-tenth lightspeed. She supposed they were braking in preparation for entry into a star system. It was theoretically possible to accelerate a spacecraft to close to lightspeed. Tranna certainly wouldn't want to enter a cluttered star system going at that speed, though. If the theoretical spacecraft collided with something, it could be destroyed before the crew even knew what happened.

*We should confer with the First,* said Aris.

*Of course,* said Tranna.

The First Grebsa, the leader of the Grebsa Network, had standing orders to contact her promptly if signs of intelligent extrasolar life were detected. This counted. Aris signaled the First with the mental equivalent of a tap on the shoulder and let her know what they had found.

*Excellent, Captain Aris. Send the message,* said the First.

She sounded as curious as Aris and Tranna were, even though she knew as well as they did that it would be several years before the alien spacecraft got the message and several more before they got any kind of response. The message, meant for any detected civilization with presumed radio technology, consisted of a language primer, images of Earth, Mars, the lunar colony, and the Outer System stations like this one, samples of the arts (including that dratted Für Elise!), and a brief history of the Sol System. Aris called it up and transmitted it to the image coordinates on all frequencies.

*Done, my First,* said Aris.

Aris got the impression that the First was smiling, even though, for the First, that was a physical impossibility. Trapped in a life-support tank as she was, she couldn't so much as twitch. However, with the entire Network to be her eyes, ears, and hands, she didn't complain too much about it.

***********

The Veroshi Faith-ship-

High Priestess Rawn of the Veroshi lifted the headdress from her head with a sigh. Acolyte Rossa took it from her and placed it on its stand.

"We are nearing Holy Sol," she said. "I wonder why we haven't heard from our gods yet. The Great Prophet Rora said we would."

"We will," Rossa said confidently. "If we must wait, it is simply part of the Great Test."

Rawn lifted her whiskers. Sol wouldn't be the first the Veroshi had visited since leaving their home system. The historical records indicated that they had stopped at three life-supporting planets during their journey. On one, they had found an intelligent life-form, the adorable and playful Miriana, some of whom they had brought aboard when they found that the Mirana's native planet was on the verge of ecological collapse. But Sol was special because it was the home of their gods.

Rawn's computer informed her that the Captain wanted to speak to her. Rossa bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind her to give Rawn some privacy. Rawn acknowledged the call.

"Rawn, would you mind coming up to the Bridge? I think you're going to want to see this."

Rawn thanked him and took a lift to the bridge. Images were flashing across the main screen at high speed. She looked for a moment before turning her attention to the Captain.

"What is happening, Earon?"

"Our gods have finally contacted us. The images on the screen are the contents."

Rawn couldn't resist wagging her tail. The Scriptures were finally being fulfilled.

Earon spread the printout across the table in the meeting room. Rawn had called a staff meeting that Rossa was entitled to sit in on as the oldest Acolyte.

"We think it's a language primer," he said. "This," he indicated one column, "is basic computer code and we think these," he indicated the other column, "are the symbols of their alphanumeric system. This was included early in the transmission. It gets progressively more complicated after that. For all we know, what we're receiving now is their version of our Scriptures."

"Our gods are eager to communicate," one priest said enthusiastically.

"Some of our people are deciphering the transmission. A lot of it is audio-visual. Like this."

Earon showed a video clip. The Grebsas were in the process of putting down a riot.

"I once saw some tian-herders stop a stampede. It was a lot like what they are doing."

The video ended with several arrestees being led to police vans.

"We should prepare a message to send back to let them know we are coming," said Rawn.

They debated what they would put in the message. Earon eventually excused himself, saying that he had another braking stage to handle. No one minded. They had braked down from near-lightspeed for the past few years and they all knew that one engine misfire could cause them to miss Sol System entirely.

Rossa waded into one of the Faith-ship's two artificial oceans. Her Healer had suggested that she swim daily, and she wanted to inform her Miriana friends of the good news. Immediately, she was surrounded by the local pod.

The Miriana resembled playful mer-foxes, brightly colored to match their infectious cheer. Their homeworld had been on the verge of ecological collapse when the Veroshi had stopped over for desperately needed supplies. The Miriana had been shy until they realized that the Veroshi were only there to collect metals, energy supplies, and foodstuffs. Then, they had begged to be taken along. The Veroshi had agreed to take as many as their oceans could comfortably hold. Rossa sincerely hoped the Grebsas would understand. The Miriana deserved a chance at survival and a new world, too.

"Hello, Rossa," chirped the green pod leader. "How fares the Veroshi?"

"Well. We've finally made contact with our gods."

"Finally! You take a lot on faith. We weren't sure if the Grebsas actually existed."

Like most Veroshi, Rossa had always excused the Miriana's lack of faith on the grounds that they had never had their version of the Prophet Rora. The Scriptures didn't mention the Miriana by name, but hinted that the gods would show mercy if the Veroshi requested it.

"They exist, and they are eager to hear from us. It's a shame that radio is so limited. If you want to include a message to them in our package, I brought something to record it with."

She held up an audio-visual recorder. As small as it was, it was capable of recording in 3-D and taking in up to a cubic half-kilometer without losing much resolution.

"Do you think they'll care if we inhabit their oceans?"

"I don't see why they would object."

As Rossa swam among them, she recorded a few personal messages, some of their songs, and images of playing children. They performed their traditional Dance of Friendship, which was very similar to some Veroshi Wind Dances. Some Veroshi historians theorized that the Wind Dancers had originated not long after the Miriana had come aboard. The Dancers, of course, maintained that they were honoring the Grebsa gods in their own way. The Priestesses had, more than once, sided with the Dancers when disputes over the issue arose. It didn't matter how the gods were honored, as long as they were.

"Thank you, Green," she said to the pod leader when they were finished.

Green squeaked with laughter. The Miriana were often amused by the descriptive names given to them by the Veroshi. Miriana had no trouble pronouncing the sounds of Veroshi language, which was fortunate. Some Veroshi understood the Miriana's language, but could not exactly duplicate the high-pitched squeaks, squeals and rapid clicks involved. Which meant Rossa couldn't have pronounced Green's real name. She didn't want to insult her by trying and failing.

"You are welcome. I hope the Grebsas like it."

Rossa left the ocean, wrapped a towel around herself, and walked up the beach. Green watched her until she was out of sight. Few Veroshi spent as much time with the Miriana as Rossa did. There probably weren't many who thought about Green's people while going about their own business. Busybodies, she thought in amused disapproval. They were good, generous people. They just took their supposed "gods" a little too seriously.

Green dismissed the matter, for the moment, and sank back under the surface. Soon, the pod would go hunting, and she didn't want to miss out.

On those nights when Rawn couldn't sleep, she got caught up on her paperwork.

This was one of those nights. They had gotten more frequent as she got older, she noticed. This time, she had a valid excuse. She was excited about having contact with the Grebsa gods. It wasn't real-time contact and they hadn't really done much more than say, "Hello, we are here and we know you're coming." But they had contacted the Veroshi and let them know that their faith wasn't misplaced. It wasn't the Grebsas' fault that long-distance radio only worked at the speed of light.

Rawn stood up and paced, wanting to use up a little of her pent-up energy. She yearned to touch the Grebsas' manes and tell them she loved them. She realized that, even with the Network, her gods were desperately lonely. She had watched several videos of Grebsas herding humans to marked vehicles, tending their wounded, and flying, exhausted, back to their homes after their all-too-frequent clashes with humans. Some lucky ones had families to return home to, but far too many of them had no one to love away their hurts at the end of each day. Rawn knew her gods were powerful, but they weren't invulnerable, either emotionally or physically. They needed loving worshippers to become complete.

Rawn decided that she would include a message of reassurance and caring in the packet. She just wanted to let them know that somebody cared. It would help little until the Veroshi actually arrived, but it might give the Grebsas something to keep them warm at night.

Rawn yawned and decided to go find something to help her sleep. Wrapping a robe around herself, she left her rooms and set out toward the kitchen. Perhaps she would try some of that relaxing brew which so many acolytes swore by.

Her path led her past the Forbidden Room. It wasn't actually forbidden to walk past it. Only to enter it. Still, most Veroshi found reasons not to pass it. Rawn paused to inspect the door. It had an image of the Prophet Rora carved into it. Rawn knew that it contained to the only security system in the Faith-ship, programmed to allow only a Grebsa to enter.

"We are almost there, Rora," Rawn said softly to the door. "I trust we made you proud."

Rora's eyes glowed. A voice which appeared to come from the carving's mouth said, "Geralt will be the first to enter the Forbidden Room."

Rawn jumped slightly. A few of her predecessors as High Priestess had sworn in their Journals that Rora had spoken with them about one matter or another. She had never taken it seriously, until now.

"Is Geralt a Grebsa, Honored Prophet?" she said, trying to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"He will be in pain. Only a Veroshi can help him."

"We will."

The glow faded from Rora's eyes. Rawn wondered whether Rora's rare communications from the distant past were timed somehow, or if it took interaction with a Veroshi to activate whatever computerized system operated it. She was about to turn away when she saw an acolyte come around a corner. So, I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep.

Rossa couldn't sleep.

She didn't think anyone in the temple was getting much sleep. She could hear two acolytes in the next room having a muted conversation. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she could tell that they were excited. The news that the gods of the Grebsa Network had finally contacted them had travelled fast. Their journey was as good as over, in many Veroshi's minds.

Rossa finally admitted to herself that it was useless. She got up, wrapped a loose robe around herself, and went to take a walk.

She didn't plan a route. She wasn't going to go that far from the acolytes' quarters. Not that there was any real rule against it. She could have gone as far as the sanctuary if she wanted to. All Veroshi felt the urge to talk to their gods from time to time, even this late at night, and there was only one locked door in the temple.

She found herself going in the direction of the Forbidden Room instead. She shivered when she realized it. That was the locked door, the only place in the entire Faith-ship that was off-limits to the Veroshi. Only a Grebsa could go into that room and live.

Rossa found Head Priestess Rawn standing in front of the door.

"You couldn't sleep, either?" said Rawn as Rossa approached.

"No," Rossa admitted. "I'm sure a lot of us would say the same thing."

Rawn nodded to the door. "Have you ever wondered what's in there?"

Rossa considered it. Other than a life-sized carved image of the Prophet Rora on the door and a warning in the ancient language carved into the framework, it was like any other door in the Temple.

"Sometimes. A few of us say it's the real reason why Rora sent us to find our gods. Others say it contains sacred items that only the Grebsas can safely handle."

"And what do you think?"

"I think it's not worth the risk to try and find out. If the Grebsas think we need to know, they will tell us."

"Well said, Acolyte. Let's go find something to cure our insomnia, shall we?"

"As you wish, Priestess."

**********

Sol System-

The incoming generational ship had not been forgotten. Tranna had been promoted to captain of Outer System Outpost Thirty, the exact same one on which she had first detected the incoming alien vessel, in the twenty years since. She still occasionally checked the telescope to make certain it was still there.

Communications Officer Geralt called to her.

*Message from the Veroshi to the 'gods of Sol System,'* he reported.

Gods? Tranna wondered. *Make sure the computer is recording it. Which language is it in?*

Geralt's tail spiraled tighter. *They took a page right out of our book. It's a language primer. The computer's recording it.*

Over the next several days, the outpost recorded the Veroshi's message. Tranna, Geralt, and several others spent many long, but satisfying, hours learning the language and going over the data. Tranna found a message from Rossa. Tranna played it while Geralt looked on. The Veroshi appeared on the screen. The Veroshi looked like a delicate, bipedal wolf with sky-blue fur and wings, and a silk gown that perfectly complemented her color. A wolf's idea of a fairy. She's pretty, thought Tranna.

"Greetings to the Gods and Goddesses of the Great Grebsa Network," she said in oddly accented and halting English. "I am Senior Priestess Rawn.

"For many generations, we have followed the Words you spoke to us through your Prophet Rora th'nai Tran. Though you say your recorded history only goes back ten generations, we know you existed, in spirit, for many millennia. We are grateful that you contacted us to let us know that our faith has not been misplaced and we will not fail so close to our goal.

"I wish I could be with you now. I have seen how difficult your lives are, and it breaks my heart. Please, stay safe. The day is coming when we will be able to comfort you."

Rawn's eyes filled with tears. She paused to swallow a lump in her throat.

"We are forever your faithful ones. We love you and we pray daily that our spirits will reside with you. We will continue to prepare for the day when we can join you on Earth. Farewell for now."

The image vanished. Tranna and Geralt stared.

*We aren't gods!* protested Geralt.

*I know that and you know that, but, apparently, the Veroshi don't know that.*

*What will we do?*

*For now, we will continue to review the information and prepare for their arrival. At least we know they aren't hostile.*

*What if word of this gets out to the humans? They know we aren't gods, too.*

*They don't know about the Veroshi yet. We've passed rumors of an incoming alien vessel off as mere science fiction and the fact that they haven't gotten here yet helps. If this little tidbit gets out, we can reasonably ask how an alien could speak nearly flawless English. After all, it's not like we sent them a primer, right?*

Geralt's tail looped at that.

*Of course, they'll accuse us of having known all along when they get here.*

*Naturally, but, sometimes, it's better not to give humans any advance notice. And we'll settle the Veroshi on Earth. From what I'm seeing, they'll like it better there.*

Geralt agreed with it in principle. With nearly nine-tenths of the human population living on either the Lunar colony or Mars, Earth wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been in the days before the Grebsa Network. Considering the Veroshi population figures, a city the size of Old Chicago would hardly be crowded.

*What about the logistics? We don't exactly have a city ready to be occupied down there.*

*No, but we can build one for them. They sent us enough pictures of their buildings to have a good general idea of their preferred style.*

*I hope none of them are agoraphobic.*

*Good point. There will be many issues we have to figure out as we go. But we are Grebsas. There is no problem we can't solve, given enough time.*