Chapter 5: Learn by Doing

He walked along the street in the shadow of the skyscrapers, the fronds of the nearby trees waving in the wind, the setting sun starting to stain the sky pink and orange. Everything seemed so huge, the weight and mass of the surrounding buildings tangible, each one larger than a jump freighter standing on its engine cones. Jupiter had made him feel small, but it was always beyond the glass – always out of reach. He could never walk up to Jupiter and run his hand through its smoky atmosphere, but he could lay his palm against the walls of these buildings and feel the texture of the glass and carbcrete beneath his bare skin. Even the breadth of the road was wider than most tunnels on Ganymede, and he could see it stretching into the distance with no airlocks to break it up.

It was a paradoxical environment for such diminutive creatures. None of the Valbarans who passed by him even reached his shoulder, making him feel like a giant walking among them. He got lots of looks, but none of them unkind or afraid. They really did seem to have a positive view of humans. Just the amount of space that he had to move around in and the lack of other people in close proximity was still a wonderful novelty.

As he left the more financial and corporate zones, the buildings began to get somewhat smaller – though calling them small still felt inappropriate. Glowing neon signs started to appear on their facades, strikingly similar to those one might expect to see in Ganymede’s warrens, albeit without all the trailing cables and busted tubes. The colors were incredible, many of them intricately animated with flowing changes of hue and holographic elements, bright and clear even in the waning sunlight. They must be even more impressive in the dark. Based on what he knew about Valbaran feathers, they likely communicated much more than simple text and images, the colors and patterns conveying tone and emotion.

Ezi had said that her flock was heading to a lounge tonight. What was that? Some kind of club or maybe a bar? There didn’t seem to be much of a nightlife yet, but maybe it was still too early in the evening.

He arrived at one of the icons on the map, glancing up to see a sign that matched its color. There was more squiggly Valbaran text, along with animated portrayals of packaged food that danced in holographic form a few inches above it. Beneath it was an automatic door that opened at his approach, Steven finding himself standing in the alien equivalent of a grocery store.

Ahead of him were long aisles, not packed with shelves and freezers, but rather vending machines similar to those he had seen in the office complex. Colorful packaged foods were contained behind the glass, the shiny veneer reflecting the light strips on the ceiling above. There didn’t seem to be any cashiers or employees, Steven dipping his head deeper into the store to take a look around. Maybe he was just supposed to pay with his phone?

He made his way deeper, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the nondescript choices. It was amazing to him that there were no employees. A place like this couldn’t exist on Ganymede without every third visitor smashing the glass and running off with an armful of snacks, and a lot of places had private security guards, as the police usually had more pressing issues than petty theft. Maybe they had cameras instead.

“Right, I gotta take care of this language situation,” he muttered as he pulled up his phone. He navigated to the address that Joseph had given him, finding the expat forum. There were dozens of categories full of hundreds of threads discussing life on Valbara and sharing advice, and after scanning through them briefly, he found a repository of apps. Real-time translation of on-screen text or camera feeds was very common between human languages, and it was the first tool a new arrival might want to find. He found one right where he expected it to be and downloaded it to his phone, the device popping up a warning about unregistered software. He bypassed it, and a moment later, the app was running through his camera.

He raised the phone and pointed it at the nearest vending machine, seeing the squiggly characters overlaid with blocks of English text. Just like with the software his new employers had developed, the English words spilled far beyond the borders of their Valbaran equivalents, the dense alien language packing alarming amounts of information into only a few lines.

“Crispy algae culture squares, salty flavor spiced with ho’za plant extract, omega fatty acids iron zinc magnesium methylated folates added vitamin infusion. That’s a mouthful,” he grumbled. “At least they know what they’re getting.”

Knowing the descriptions of the food didn’t really help him all that much. Perhaps he should have taken the flock up on their offer to take him shopping so they could recommend some dishes. He began to wander around the store, becoming more confused with each new translation. The app’s developer had warned that it was still in beta, as the Valbaran language was quite complex – no shit – but it was more that Steven had no basis for comparison. Knowing something was called dried and salted gue’tra meat didn’t tell him if it was any good or how he could use it to cook a meal. He didn’t even know what appliances he had at home.

As he meandered around, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to see a tiny lizard racing through the aisle. It wasn’t a lizard – it was a pocket-sized Valbaran, barely even a foot tall. It skidded to a halt on the polished floor, flashing bright yellow feathers when it saw him, clearly surprised. Not sure what to do or say, Steven stood still as it gradually crept closer, its tiny head bobbing with each step. It reached out to examine his shoe, tilting its snout curiously, pausing to glance up at him intermittently as though it expected him to intervene. When it found a shoelace, it began to unfasten it, making little chirping noises as it pulled it loose.

Another regular-sized Valbaran soon rounded the aisle ahead, the eye spots on his flashing red feathers letting Steven know it was a male. The stranger hurried over to the little alien, chattering in his native language as he swept the infant off its feet. Steven watched the baby wriggle and struggle as its father clutched it against his chest.

“My apologies,” he panted as he looked up at Steven. He sounded out of breath – he had probably been chasing the little demon around for a few minutes.

“No need,” Steven replied with a smile, kneeling down to tie his lace. “I know how kids can be.”

“You are Earth’nay?” the man asked, still trying to keep his weasel-like charge from escaping again. “I have never met an Earth’nay before. It is a new experience. Apologies, my English phrases are limited. I have learned as a hobby in my house.”

“It’s good!” Steven said, standing up straight again and brushing himself off. “I wish I could speak Valbaran half as well as you speak English.”

A Valbaran who was still in the process of learning was a strange prospect. Every phrase that he spoke would be perfect in terms of pronunciation and grammar, and he wouldn’t struggle to find the right words, but his repertoire might be limited. It was akin to only having access to fragments of a phrase book.

“Actually, I wonder if you could help me?” Steven began. “You seem to be the only other person in the store.”

“I can help,” the man replied, struggling to get the baby into a carrier on his chest and strapping the chirping creature in securely. “Do you have a problem?”

“I’m shopping for the first time, and I don’t know what to buy. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Sorry, I don’t understand,” the male replied. “You cannot find an item?”

“No, I don’t know what to buy,” Steven replied sheepishly. “Perhaps you could tell me what you like to eat?”

“You visited the store not knowing what you wanted to buy?” the male asked, cocking his head incredulously. Steven supposed that Valbarans didn’t need to bring grocery lists with them, or maybe it was the lack of planning that had the man confused.

“I’ve only been here for a couple of days,” Steven explained, holding up two fingers.

“I am shopping for my flock,” the man replied, gesturing for Steven to follow with a flash of feathers from his arm sheath. “Come with me. I will show you.”

Steven followed the stranger down the aisle, the baby watching him like a hawk from over its father’s shoulder, and he rounded the corner to see some kind of little wheeled cart piled with food packets waiting there. The guy must have left it to chase his kid. It was smaller and lower than a shopping cart that Steven would have expected to see in a human supermarket, its wheels sporting thicker tires, and the jutting handle reminded him of a toy wagon.

“What kind of food do you eat?” the stranger asked as he began to pull the cart. There was an electric whir, as though its wheels were motorized. “Do Earth’nay eat the same as Val’ba’ra’nay?”

“Yes,” Steven replied with a nod, remembering what Paza had said about Valbaran food being safe for humans. “Show me what you would choose.”

The male led him back to the front of the store, showing him how to scan his phone to receive his own cart that folded out from a dispenser, then they began to fill it up. Rather than paying at a checkout, every item was bought individually with a swipe of a phone. Steven wondered what would happen if someone changed their mind or bought the wrong item. Was there a way to return them for a refund? Maybe the Valbarans just didn’t make those kinds of mistakes and entered the store knowing exactly what they wanted.

The stranger guided Steven through the aisles, pointing out items and giving the best explanations that he could, supplemented by the translation app. There were cuts of alien meat in self-contained freezer bags, and instant meals that reminded Steven of the noodle soups and microwave dinners he used to get on Ganymede after a long shift. The locals seemed to enjoy a lot of insect protein products, along with dishes made from algae and water weeds that they probably cultivated in their aquaponic farms. They had packaged fruits and vegetables, fresh fish, and lots of bizarre snacks. There were some everyday items Steven took for granted that were conspicuously absent, like bread, dairy products, and potatoes. It was a larger selection than he had ever seen back home, even if he couldn’t identify half of it.

His new friend was picking up a few items ready for his flock returning later in the evening. A lot of it was guesswork since the Valbaran’s vocabulary was limited, but it seemed that he was taking care of his child while his wives were at work. The baby was a little bundle of energy, trying to grab every package that its father picked out. Since the items had already been bought, he pacified the tiny creature with some kind of candied bar on a stick, the baby nibbling at it with its tiny teeth. Once Steven had all he needed, they headed back out onto the street, pulling their carts behind them.

“Thank you so much,” Steven said, giving the man a bow as Yemi had shown him.

The male responded in kind, giving him a red feather display, then headed for a scooter that was parked nearby. To Steven’s surprise, he attached the shopping cart to the back of the footrest, towing it away as he pulled out into the road.

“What, am I supposed to keep it?” Steven asked of nobody in particular as he watched the man zip away. “Is this my cart now?”

With a shrug, he began to tow it down the street, wondering if they’d let him take it on the train. Maybe next time, he’d just bring his backpack and fill that up instead.

Steven tugged his cart into the car, taking a seat as the train began to slide away from the station. The other passengers gave him some odd looks, but there wasn’t even a conductor, so nobody could tell him to stop.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to his photos. He should probably take more – maybe he could send them to Feng if he could ever get a data package through the satellite buffer. He found the photo of the flock that he’d met that morning, glancing at their names for a moment.

“Qimi, Tlaso, Kema, Nawa, Tikol,” he muttered under his breath. He put through a call to the number they had given him. It was something akin to a phone number – probably some kind of local intranet address. After a few moments, they picked up, Steven seeing a green headdress filling the camera feed. Whoever was holding the phone on the other end chirped to her friends in her native language, then set the device on a nearby surface as all five of them crowded around it.

“Hey, it’s the Earth’nay from the train!” Qimi began.

“How’s it going?” Kema asked as she leaned into frame.

“Evening ladies,” Steven began as he leaned back in his seat. “Qimi, Tlaso, Kema, Nawa, Tikol. I just wanted to give you a call and thank you again for your help this morning.”

“See? I told you he’d remember,” Tikol snickered.

“Just heading home from the store,” he continued, angling his phone so that they could see the cart.

“Are you on a train?” Nawa giggled, yellow feathers spreading through the flock.

“He brought his shopping cart on the train!” Kema laughed. The aliens clearly found the situation very amusing.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get a bag next time,” he replied. “I met a guy shopping with his kid who showed me how to use the vending machines.”

“You’re just stumbling your way through life, aren’t you?” Tlaso said with a flutter of pink.

“It seems to be working out for him,” Nawa chuckled.

“I’m gonna have salted mi’chitli meat for dinner,” Steven said, pointing the phone at the little cart again. “I don’t know what that is, exactly, but I’m gonna find out. Kinda looks like fish.”

“You should come out to eat with us!” Nawa said as she leaned closer to the camera.

“Yeah, we know lots of really great restaurants,” Kema added. “You still need someone to show you around, right?”

“I might take you guys up on that sometime,” Steven replied. “I’m just settling in right now – my first day at work went pretty well. I met the team, learned some stuff.”

“What job are you doing?” Qimi asked. “You never told us.”

“I’m working in a big tower in the city,” he explained, struggling to think of a suitable job title. “I suppose I’m like a clerk or a secretary or something? Fetching drinks, taking calls – stuff like that.”

“It suits you,” Qimi said with another flash of pink.

“I think my stop is coming up, so I’ll talk to you guys later,” he said as he gave them a wave. They chimed their goodbyes, and he closed the connection, turning his eyes to the trees that were flashing past beyond the window.

He was slowly starting to learn what the different feather signals meant. Yellow seemed to be surprise or amusement, green was happiness, and purple was worry or concern. What was pink? Yemi had used it when Ezi had invited him to the lounge. Was it embarrassment? The equivalent of a blush? Perhaps he could ask about it on the expat forum.

The train pulled to a stop at his station, and he left with his cart in tow, lifting it off the ground to carry it down the precarious flight of steps. It was a short walk back to his house, Steven pausing to check his map occasionally. It was such a novel concept to be able to enjoy a walk through a park. Instead of the hum of air recyclers and the hissing of pressurized airlocks, there was the trickle of running water and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Even now, it was difficult to think of Ganymede as the unnatural environment that it was. People weren’t supposed to live in tunnels and domes – they had evolved on planets, not airless moons. It was incredible how far sound carried here, how he could smell the salt on the breeze without the ocean being in sight, and how far he could see now that his eyes were starting to focus further. It made him wonder what Ganymede would smell like if he could take off his helmet on the surface without his fluids boiling. He’d heard tales of workers who had survived suit breaches. Shortly before losing consciousness due to the pressure drop, and as their saliva began to bubble on their tongues, they had smelled the distinct odor of hot metal.

He saw some pockets of trees that he recognized, and his little cluster of domes soon came into view around a carefully positioned hill. With a scan of his phone, he was back inside, and he began to unload his cart in the little foyer so as not to dirty the shag carpet. It only took a couple of trips, and all of the food was laid out on the cramped kitchen counter. He began to store food packets in the cupboards and put the perishables in the fridge, pulling out his phone and running a search on the forum.

“Search for keywords – return shopping cart,” he said as he pushed some frozen meat into the back of the freezer. Everything was Valbaran-sized, making it just a little too short to be comfortable, and a lot of the appliances seemed to be recessed into the walls to save space.

When he pulled up his phone, there was a list of results linking to different discussions. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one confused about the carts. There was a conversation recommending bringing freezer bags to the store, and someone saying that humans could fit on the scooters if they didn’t mind an uncomfortable ride. According to them, cars and trucks were only really used outside the city walls on rough terrain. His question about returning the cart was soon answered, and he chuckled to himself, making his way back over to the cramped foyer. He lifted the cart, then set it on the path outside the door, pressing a little touch panel on its side.

“Happy trails!” he said, waving the little cart off as it began to trundle down the footpath. They were autonomous and could return to their store of origin on their own. Very convenient.

Steven returned to the kitchen and began to examine his haul of food, along with whatever appliances he had available. He hadn’t been able to ask the dad he’d met about recipes due to the language barrier, but there must be some on the forum.

“Joseph, what would I do without you,” he muttered as he began to scroll through the different threads. Cooking was indeed a popular subject of conversation, and there were plenty of guides for using the alien appliances and preparing dishes. As he began to rummage through the fridge for some of the ingredients, he wondered how many human expats were already living on Valbara. Was it a few thousand? A few tens of thousands? The forum seemed pretty lively, and they couldn’t all be on there. Many didn’t seem to be permanent residents – they were Marines on shore leave, probably taking a break from the ongoing maneuvers on Kerguela. Based on what he was reading, the UNN was still shipping people in for live-fire training exercises on the recently liberated colony.

He fished out the mi’chitli meat that he had bought, the transparent wrapper packed with crumbling ice. Fresh fish weren’t unheard of in the more upscale restaurants of the domes, but he had never seen a whole one that still had bony armor plates attached to it as well as scales. It had thick, muscular fins where he would have expected to see legs, like some kind of little evolutionary throwback. Apparently, it went down a treat fried in vegetable oil and served with crunchy water weeds, so he was going to try his hand at that.

Everything seemed to have its own little cubby or compartment, and he found a frying pan in a drawer, setting it down atop a convection plate that was built into the countertop. It had touch controls that weren’t too different from what he was used to, and after pouring in a glug of golden oil, it was starting to sizzle. Now, what to do about the fish?

It was more of a dissection than food preparation, but after removing the scales with a knife and prying off the armor plates – they were connected to the spine, which was probably why they were still attached – he was looking at a couple of nice fish fillets.

“Gonna get this shit all over me,” he mumbled, shedding his nice jacket and taking off his dress shirt. “Don’t they have any towels or aprons around here?”

After a little rummaging, he was indeed able to find a little Valbaran-sized apron that was more like a bib to him. It couldn’t reach around his waist, so he just hung it from his neck while he cooked, the oil spitting and sizzling as he flipped the cuts of fish with a polymer spatula. After such a bizarre experience at the grocery store, cooking was delightfully familiar. There were only so many ways one could heat up food.

The seaweed was good fresh from the packet, so after sprinkling some salt crystals on the fish, he plated everything up on a ceramic dish shaped like a square and headed into the living room. The chairs around the dining table were a little small, so he flopped down onto the low couch, setting his meal on the coffee table. Using a two-pronged fork and a child-sized knife, he cut off a piece of meat and popped it into his mouth.

“Man,” he mumbled as he chewed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So this is farm-fresh. Goddamn. I could get used to this.”

He paused to take a bite of the seaweed, finding that it had an umami flavor with a citrus aftertaste – maybe some kind of spice or seasoning. The fish was juicy and still tasted of the ocean, beating the shit out of any vat-grown or processed meat he’d ever eaten.

When he was done, he lay back on the couch, letting the food settle for a few minutes as he examined his strange surroundings. Even though his hunger was sated, he had half a mind to go back and try another dish, but he paused to pull out his phone instead. He found the number that Joseph had left for him and sent him a message thanking him for his help and letting him know that things were going well.

That done, he was about ready for bed, but he recalled that there was no shower in the house. After a brief check of the forum to make sure it wasn’t hidden away in some concealed compartment, he confirmed that the pond in the garden was supposed to be used for bathing.

Steven retrieved a towel from his bag and headed outside, the golden glow from the foyer spilling across the blue-green grass. The sun was just setting, twilight dominating the sky as unfamiliar stars twinkled through the drifting clouds. It was strange not being able to see them cold and crisp against the blackness of vacuum, and Jupiter’s absence was disorienting in a way. Ahead of him was the pond, its calm surface reflecting the light that bled out of the house. Steven felt a little exposed, but he reminded himself that the landscaping prevented any passers-by from seeing into the garden.

He wandered over and took a closer look. It was just a waist-deep pool, but far from being filled with fish and weeds like many of the lakes and streams he had passed, it was crystal clear. It was fed by a little waterfall that trickled down a nearby hill in a rocky stream, creating little bubbles and splashes. There was nowhere for it to drain, so perhaps the water was being cycled out through filters to keep it fresh and clean.

With a shrug, he shed his clothes and folded his towel at the water’s edge, dipping a toe in gingerly. It was pleasantly cool, especially when contrasted with the warm, humid air of Valbara. He lowered himself inside, sinking up to his chest, letting it immerse him. He could feel something akin to mud or silt between his toes. There were no baths or public pools on Ganymede – water was far too valuable, so a quick shower was all one could hope for. The idea that he could just sit here in a pool of free water made him feel like he was swimming in liquid gold.

There was a little wicker basket at the water’s edge, nestled beside some colorful alien flowers. It contained soaps and some kind of thin-toothed comb that didn’t look suitable for a human. He reached over and started to examine the contents of the bottles, opening the caps and sniffing them. They had strange odors, but none were unpleasant, so he upended one of them into his hand and began to wash. There were soon suds floating on the surface, and unless he was expected to fish them out with a little net, it was safe to conclude that the pool was self-cleaning.

He locked his fingers behind his head and just lay there for a while, listening to the trickle of running water and gazing up at the sky. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could hear the rustling of foliage and even the sounds of the ocean spilling in from the other side of the giant wall.

Maybe he should be feeling some kind of imposter syndrome. After all, he had done nothing to earn any of this – it had been a random lottery. There must have been thousands of other applicants from a dozen colonies who had the same skillset and work experience that he did, all jockeying for a handful of positions. What made him special or more deserving than the next guy? Nothing. Yet, here he was.

As he had told Feng – when someone gives you a clean filter, you don’t ask where they got it.

Steven stumbled out of the elevator, swallowing as he straightened his tie. Eventually, he would get used to those damned things. He strode down the corridor and into the lobby, raising a hand to greet Yemi, who was sitting behind the reception desk.

“Morning, Yemi.”

“Mister Zheng,” Yemi replied with the customary flush of respectful red. “Welcome back.”

“What’s on the itinerary for today?” Steven asked, leaning on the counter.

“The company thought it best to give you some more time with your team today before resuming your lessons,” the male replied. “I’ll send for you later in the day.”

“Sounds good, looking forward to it,” Steven said with a thumbs-up that only seemed to puzzle the alien. He headed into the office, the massive complex opening up before him as he stepped through the door, the maze of dividers and raised platforms like some corporate jungle gym to his eyes. It was early in the day, but there were already flocks going about their business, walking between the cubicles in little groups and filling the air with their bird-like chatter. He had an idea of where his flock should be, cheating a little by looking over the dividers as he navigated, passing the flowering vines and overflowing planters.

He located his team, picking out their distinctive features at a distance. Even though he couldn’t recognize facial features so readily yet, his colleagues had enough variation in their coloration that it made them easy to tell apart. There was Ezi with her tan scales, Paza with her almost blue tint, and Mima with her covering of chestnut feathers. Ipal and Tilli were with them, already at their desks, the five aliens chatting and flashing their feathers as they shared morning drinks.

“Good morning!” Steven said, announcing himself by peering over the barrier. They responded with flashes of amused yellow and green, along with a little red in greeting.

“Welcome!” Tilli chimed.

“There he is,” Ipal replied, waving him into the cubicle. “We were just talking about you.”

“How did your shopping trip go?” Mima asked, always giving him those purple flushes of concerned feathers. “Were you able to find what you needed?”

“Yeah, I had fried fish with seaweed,” he replied as he leaned against one of the white walls. “It was great. Way better than those bug bars. My visit to the store was a bit of an experience. I met a guy who showed me how to use the vending machines, and then I ended up taking the cart back home with me on the train. Turns out that’s not how you’re supposed to use them. Also, they drive themselves back to the store when you’re done. I thought that was cool.”

“What?” Ezi sputtered, almost choking on her drink as her feathers flashed yellow. “You just wandered around the store until someone showed you how to buy food?”

“He took the shopping cart on the train!” Ipal chuckled, sharing an amused glance with Paza. “How do Earth’nay even function? It’s incredible to me.”

“I suppose you’d memorize every item you needed before even leaving the house?” Steven asked as he crossed his arms.

“Yes, and we’d certainly know how to purchase food before entering a store,” Ipal snickered. “I still can’t believe you took a cart onto the train – did anyone say anything?”

“Nah, but I got some funny looks,” he said with a shrug. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Ezi replied, wiping her scaly lips on the back of her hand. “It’s just very funny.”

“And incredibly cute,” Ipal added with a conspicuous flush of pink that was shared by Mima and Ezi. “Do you really just stumble into new situations like that? A Val’ba’ra’nay doesn’t even start their day without a precise itinerary.”

“How precise?” Steven pressed, his brow furrowing.

“This morning, we checked the train schedule and reserved our scooters in advance,” Paza replied. “We agreed on what we were going to have for lunch during our break, and we planned out which projects we were going to be working on today, along with which tasks would be allocated to whom. We also discussed a choice of restaurants and narrowed down our choices for our evening meal.”