SLIDING - February 6, 2009

SLIDING

The Alpha Centauri mission went much better than planned. We were able to meet with the Supreme High Priest Commander and opened negotiations to establish a base there in an area that was basically uncultivated. They seemed like nice enough people, if a little stiff and formal in their relationships. It was a lush, wooded planet. Full of unusual plants and flowers and animals, somewhat reminiscent of our Earth fauna and flora but just a little off, a little strange.

One thing that we noticed was that we'd see animals in a herd that seemed to be almost miniatures of their counterparts in another part of the planet. They were awfully cute, especially the little tiny goat-like creature that kept following me around and trying to butt my leg and lick my hand whenever I stopped. When we asked about them, the answer seemed evasive -- "they're just sliding," we were told. Pressing for a clearer explanation got us nowhere.

There are always language problems when we first encounter an alien race. Universal translators are just not all they're cracked up to be. Everybody knows that, but they're all we've got to get the ball rolling. At least, until we've spent enough time on the planet to actually learn the language. We finally decided they were just a smaller species related to the larger species and let it go at that.

When we finally got back to Earth, we were debriefed and gave Space Command the good news about setting up a base there and starting to trade for some of the local products. We all checked out in excellent condition, and after the usual period of quarantine, just precautionary, of course, we could go home to our families. I could hardly wait! After all, I had a 4-year-old daughter I hadn't even seen yet, and I had missed my wife -- well, let's just say, a lot.

It took some time to settle in, as it always did after being away for so long, but pretty soon I really started to enjoy my furlough before the next mission. Going out to dinner and concerts with my wife, seeing friends again, cheering at my son's little league games, and getting to know my pretty little daughter, Kaylie.

I guess the trouble started when I had been back around six months. I noticed that I had to take my belt in a notch, just figured I was losing weight with all the unaccustomed physical activity. After all, Earthside activity takes more energy than shipside activity, plus the periods of stasis on board and being fed by tubes does keep your weight up. They really need to address that problem a little more aggressively, you know.

When I had to take in my belt another notch the next week, I reported to Space Command for a check up. They couldn't find anything wrong with me except for some weight loss and oddly a little bit of height loss, too. But they just chalked it up to the effects of space flight and told me to keep taking my calcium and to come back in if it continued.

Reassured, I threw myself back into real life, having fun being with my family. Until the day I was playing ball with my son, took a step and walked right out of my shoes. Now what, my feet were getting smaller, too? Talking to my wife about it, I realized that we were just at the same eye level. I had always, always been taller than her. I was no giant, but I was definitely at least a head taller.

Really worried about what was going on now, back I went to the Space Command medics. OK, this time, they were a little more concerned. While my blood tests still all looked normal, my weight had continued to drop and I was definitely much shorter. All of me seemed to be dwindling away. They couldn't find any explanation for it. Over my protests, they checked me into the hospital for more tests and just to keep an eye on me. You know how medics are
-- they always want to study unusual cases.

It wasn't too bad. I didn't have to stay in bed all the time. There was no one else on the unit, but I could walk around, watch movies, shower, eat my meals at a real table in the atrium and enjoy the fresh air. Showering was strange, though. I always felt smaller afterwards, like I was just washing away.

No matter what supplements they gave me or how many meals they forced me to eat, I just kept on getting smaller. My clothes didn't fit me at all any more. Actually, my 12-year-old son's clothes would have fit me just fine. If this didn't stop and if they didn't find some way to reverse it, I knew my days of going on missions were over. That was my whole life! It was all I had ever wanted to do since I was a boy. What was I going to do?

Finally, they contacted the Supreme High Priest Commander on the planet I had just come from. When they told him what was happening, he replied, "Oh, he's just sliding." Nothing about what to do about it, not a word about what the outcome would be, not a solution. I guess the mystery of the miniature animals was solved. Not that it helped me much. They even asked him if he could help me if they returned me to the planet. His answer wasn't clear, but it seemed there wasn't anything to be done and returning me there wouldn't help.

So far none of the other guys on my crew are having any problems. Of course, the medics just scratch their heads about that, but hey, I'm glad. I hope it stays that way. It had to have been that dang little goat thing licking my hand.

So, here I am. I have no idea how long I have left. Nobody does. At least Space Command will see that my family wants for nothing. Well, nothing but me. I'm afraid to shower now. I guess I'll just keep on sliding, sliding down the drain, until I just wink out of existence. What a depressing thought that is! All those years of preparing for my career -- sliding down the drain -- just like me.

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Copyright © 2009 by Judith Ann Neary. All rights reserved. This post is the intellectual property of the author and her heirs. It is not to be copied or reproduced in any form without the author's written consent. Please contact me for further information.