THE QUESTION

“Elkahn, Elkahn!” the boy raced across the street. “Elkahn, wait for me!”

“I need to get to work, Deter, and you need to remember to look both ways or you’ll cause your mother grief. Of course, I wouldn’t care so much, but I’d hate to see my sister cry.”

The boy laughed at the good-natured teasing and then fairly jumped up and down. “You’ve heard the news? Surely, you of all people have heard the news!”

“What news?”

“Peetro in my class said he overheard his father talking about... you know... them,” Deter nodded towards the sky. “Peetro said they’re coming, here! After all these years, can you imagine? Is it true?”

“It’s just a rumor, Deter,” Elkahn smiled at the boy’s crestfallen expression. “Even if it wasn’t, you know I can’t talk about my job. Now, I have to get going or I’ll be late, and so will you.”

Elkahn watched the boy run back towards his home. After a moment, his fond smile faded to a brooding frown. Curse Junctor and his inability to refrain from taking work home! If word got out... well, he had no idea what might happen. There would be panic, definitely. The older generations had all grown up in fear of... them.

That fear had subsided somewhat in recent years, as evidenced by his nephew’s exuberance. Elkahn’s own parents had been more open-minded than most, and had imparted to their children the importance of finding things out for themselves. That was one of the reasons Elkahn had applied himself to his current position. He had wanted access to the old documents, research, and equipment that was used to keep a vigilant eye on... them.

Elkahn’s parents had always referred to... them... as “our neighbors.” Elkahn had grown up thinking of them as such and listening to his father’s stories of the crazy exploits he had watched the neighbors perform in his own youth.

“They spend enormous amounts of time circling that lump of rock of theirs, and even walking on it, even though they know there’s nothing useful there!” Elkahn Senior would chortle. “They’re really quite amusing, our neighbors.”

“It just goes to show that our own disguise will be of no use,” Elkahn’s mother often added. “They won’t be bothered in the slightest by our deception. When they have the ability, we’ll be the next place they think to go.”

And she had been right. The approaching vessel was supposed to complete its voyage soon. Elkahn and his colleagues at the Institute had known about it for nearly seven cycles, though they had not alerted the general population. The widespread panic that had occurred when the neighbors’ first vessel had approached was an effective lesson in the necessity of secrecy. Over the years, teams at the Institute had managed to divert the vessels sent by the neighbors. Most had been deactivated before arrival, but two had been allowed to land. These had been guided to remote, barren, desert areas in hopes that it would discourage future arrivals.

However, the neighbors were not deterred.

Elkahn knew there was something gravely different about this new vessel. He and his colleagues had been monitoring it and had discovered that there were passengers inside. In spite of their people’s overwhelming desire to remain hidden, Elkahn and his colleagues felt an excitement and curiosity that could not be suppressed. This arrival would be different. The vessel would not be deactivated, nor would it find itself in another desert wasteland. The passengers would land within the boundaries of the Institute, far from populated areas, but not wholly without welcome. Elkahn was to lead the team that would determine the intentions of their “neighbors.”

Upon reaching the Institute, Elkahn’s casual greeting to his colleagues belied his own anxiety as he stepped into the waiting carrier. Despite his own coviction that there was nothing to fear, he could not calm the trembling within.

They reached the designated landing site well before the expected arrival. Elkahn spent his time rehearsing what he planned to say, hoping he would be understood. After long years of subtle interceptions of satellite communications, the Institute was fairly confident of at least one language that would be familiar to the newcomers. Elkahn had mastered this language.

It was dusk by the time the vessel landed and then the long wait began, as was expected. Observation and study had shown their neighbors to be patient and cautious. Late into the dark hours, a sudden hush fell as very slowly, a door to the vessel unfolded and several passengers emerged. Elkahn peered at their faces, partially concealed by enormous helmets. A shock of surprise went through him as he realized they looked quite ordinary. He had always imagined them as strange creatures of various shapes and sizes, or possibly something like himself, but in assorted shades of green. And yet, he realized with amazement, the neighbors looked very much like... his neighbors.

As they reached the ground and stared about in confusion, Elkahn felt himself overwhelmed with admiration. He watched their eyes widen as they looked at the landscape around them. It occurred to him that this was not the place they had been expecting.

Suddenly, Elkahn realized he was neglecting his duty. He walked cautiously forward, feeling strangely awkward. He cast about for the beautifully rehearsed speech he had prepared, but the words he had been so proud of simply eluded him.

Instead, he stuck out a hand to the leader and said, in a much less than graceful manner, “Erm... the answer to your question is no.”

The man inside the helmet blinked in confusion and stepped back. “No?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean? Who are you? What is this?”

“Erm...” Elkahn grinned lopsidedly, his heart racing nervously. This was not going the way he had imagined, at all. “I mean, no, you are not alone in the universe. Welcome to Mars.”