“Waiting patiently for millions or billions of years, The Path devices would scan their world for radio signals. It was thought that any species intelligent enough to create radio waves would be capable of interacting with other races. Once a signal was detected, the device would broadcast along the same frequency with information detailing where to find the device, how to view its internal database, and how to access The Path. Most species take decades to decode that signal and learn to operate the device. Once they do, they can choose to join an innumerable community of worlds. One individual could only visit a very small fraction of a percent if he traveled every day of his life. And some species live very long lives.”
After contemplating this information for a few seconds, Dean said, “That’s amazing. The Kretch must be remarkably advanced by now if they created The Path that long ago.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Quillitonoxic replied. “As far as I know, no one has ever seen them. I don’t know if this has to do with the size if the universe and the number of species therein or if they simply no longer exist.”
“Okay. I’m curious about one thing though. You keep talking about millions and billions of years; how can I compare one of your years to one of mine?”
“We measure by the standard year. This planet revolves around its star once every one point four one standard years. Once they access The Path, most species adopt the measurements contained in its database as the standard. This helps to simplify trade with other species. The computer can calculate the difference between your year and the standard.”
“Base reference needed,” the computerized voice said suddenly.
Dean thought for a moment and then, remembering back to his physics courses, he said, “I am one point eight six meters in height. In a vacuum, light will travel nine point four six quadrillion meters in one year.” Dean was duly impressed when the computer calculated and answered the question without any discernable delay.
“Your measurement of year equates to one point zero six four nine standard years. Your translation device has also now been updated to automatically convert measurements of length and time to your own scale. If you can provide the necessary base references, I can program your translation device for other units of measure.”
“I’m not sure how to provide the references.” Dean considered the problem for almost a minute before an answer came to him. “On the suit I was wearing when I arrived here, there was a computer attached to the left sleeve. If I could get it back, the references you need should be in it.”
A drawer immediately popped open on the wall next to Dean. Glancing inside, he saw his spacesuit, still covered in Martian dust. The computer asked, “Permission to extract data from digital device?”
“Go ahead,” Dean said.
“Scanning…update complete.”
“That’s it?” Dean asked.
“All unit conversions have been uploaded to your translation device,” the computer informed him.
“Wow,” was all that Dean could think to say.
Quillitonoxic, looking entirely bored at this point, said, “Now that that is settled and you are now aware of how you came to be here, perhaps we can discuss your plans for the future.”
“I just want to go home,” Dean said.
“While it is possible your people will discover how to access The Path and also be able to determine your destination, you should not count on that happening anytime soon. As I already informed you, it takes most species many decades to decode The Path database.”
Chapter 22
Dean had no idea what he should do. He couldn’t go home and the thought of spending the rest of his life here held little appeal. He supposed he could use The Path and explore other worlds. That would at least be interesting. Conveying his thoughts to Quillitonoxic, the alien suggested he spend some time learning about the Garroshtic and some of the other species they traded with. He explained that the computer could display any information Dean requested. He also informed Dean that the computer could arrange to have a meal delivered whenever he was hungry. After that, Quillitonoxic left him alone.
Dean asked the computer for information on the Garroshtic and immediately a portion of the wall lit into a monitor. And so Dean studied. For days he researched everything he could, one subject leading directly to the next. He slept in short bursts and ordered the occasional meal through the computer. He would spend about two hours each day performing calisthenics to maintain his fitness level. Other than that, he spent every spare moment studying.
Quillitonoxic would check in on him every day and Dean would inform him he was still learning and had yet to make any decisions about his future. After two weeks had passed in this manner, Quillitonoxic came to his room and informed him his time was up.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
The alien explained, “As on most worlds, here items of value have an associated cost; items like rooms, food, and clothing. When you first arrived, I opened a credit account for you and personally guaranteed its repayment. This is usually a low risk venture when encountering a new species as some form of trade agreement is usually obtained.” Quillitonoxic took on an expression of distaste - or what Dean had come to recognize as such - as he continued, “I am unlikely to reach any such agreement with your people anytime soon and you are near the limit of your credit account. I am unable to further indebt myself on your behalf. I would ask that you find some way to repay your current debt.”
Dean smiled broadly and said, “I think I might be able to help you out with that.”
“In what way?” the alien asked, showing genuine interest.
“I have been doing a lot of research about your people. I took a particular interest in the types of food and beverage you like to consume. I did that mostly to determine what was good for me to eat. What I found was that your people are notably fond of sugars. I also discovered that your people like to eat some of your vegetables while they are frozen to help regulate your body temperatures.”
“Yes, this is all true. What does it have to do with our current financial situation?”
“Let me finish. While sampling several of your food items, I came across a beverage you call striatal. In that beverage was a pod that held a flavor remarkable similar to something found on my own world. Continuing my research, I found that while your people don’t eat meat, you do drink the milk from a large herd animal found on this world. Using these ingredients, and with a little help from your computer, I was able to experiment. After several tries, I was finally able to produce something very similar to a much craved delicacy on my world. Originally, I did this to give myself something to remind me of home. However, after some thought, I figured that perhaps your people might find it as delicious as mine.”
“So you intend to introduce a new food item? That would have to be a remarkable food in order to bear profit in a reasonable time.”
“It just so happens that I have a batch currently made. The computer was nice enough to fashion a storage area to keep it cold for me. Would you be willing to give it a try?”
Quillitonoxic stood taller at that moment. An emotion crossed his face that looked remarkably like anticipation. He said, “I must admit to being highly curious. Yes, I will try your food item.”
Dean walked over to an area of blank wall. At his approach, a door opened in the wall revealing a cube shaped compartment that emitted a cloud of vapor when opened. Inside was a cylindrical object with a hand crank attached to the top. Dean removed the object and carried it across the room to place it on the table. A panel opened on the wall next to the table and Dean reached in to retrieve a bowl and a spoon. Reaching into the cylinder with the spoon, he began to dish out a small portion of a cold, white substance. Once finished, he placed the spoon in the bowl and handed it to Quillitonoxic.
The alien took the bowl and held it up in front of his face. He inhaled deeply through his mouth. Dean’s research had shown him that the aliens had no nose but could smell by inhali
ng through their mouths. The alien then tentatively took the spoon, scooped up a small amount, and placed it in his mouth. Quillitonoxic jerked his head around towards Dean and said, “By the Creator’s wishes; that is amazing!” The alien said nothing more as he began to devour what remained in the bowl. Once he had finished eating the bowl’s contents, he turned to Dean and said, “I have never tasted anything like that in my life. It is absolutely wonderful. What do you call it?”
“That my friend,” Dean said with a smile, “is called ice cream.”
Chapter 23
Over the next several days, Quillitonoxic had Dean make several more batches of ice cream. Quillitonoxic would then take the batches and provide samples to his friends and acquaintances in order to ascertain the potential future demand for the product. After four days of handing out samples, Quillitonoxic was bombarded with requests for more of the cold, sweet substance. He decided it was time to discuss terms with Dean.
“Hey Quill, how’s it going?” Dean asked as Quillitonoxic entered his room.
“Must you continue to call me that?”
“It’s easier than trying to say your full name all the time. Besides, being given a nickname is a sign of respect on my world.”
“In that case, I accept your use of that name. I would ask that you do not use it in public though. In my culture, shortening ones name is a sign of subordination. Even my direct superior has only shortened it to Quillitonox. If others heard you call me Quill, they would think I considered you the Creator herself.”
Dean already knew this and had taken to calling him by the shortened name mostly to get an emotional reaction from the normally unflappable alien. He smiled and said, “I promise I’ll try not to call you Quill in public.”
“You have my gratitude. Now, I believe we should discuss business.”
“Okie dokie, I’m all ears.”
Quillitonoxic scrunched his eyes together as if he were trying to look at something on the end of his snout-like face. “There was not a single part of that sentence I understood.”
“It just means I’m listening. What do you have in mind?”
Quillitonoxic stretched himself in an attempt to appear taller.
Dean now knew this was the alien’s attempt to place himself in the superior position. Dean smiled and stood from where he had been sitting, his tall frame, plus the extra four centimeters his new boots gave him, easily left him towering over the much shorter alien.
Quillitonoxic looked up at Dean, grunted, and said. “My sampling tests have shown that ice cream has great potential to become a highly demanded product. I believe we should begin production as soon as possible. Since I have the necessary influence and as I would have to provide the entirety of the startup capital, I believe a partnership between you and I, in which I hold an eighty percent stake and you hold a twenty percent stake, would be most fair.”
“Sorry Quill, it’s fifty-fifty or I find a new partner.”
If an alien face could look shocked, his certainly did as he asked, “Why would I give you fifty percent for a recipe. One that I could simply retrieve from the computer you used to acquire the components.”
Dean smiled an almost evil grin as he said, “First off, you can’t get the recipe from the computer. During my research, I happened to stumble across your privacy laws. They are really very thorough. Just making that threat could be considered a violation. But don’t worry, I won’t have you arrested. You need to be aware, I also figured out how to encrypt all of my interactions with the computer. Second, I should get fifty percent because without my recipe, you have nothing; except of course, a large debt you were kind enough to guarantee.”
Quillitonoxic seemed to visibly shrink as Dean spoke. He was silent for a moment and then replied, “You possess much more intelligence than I had credited you with. Therefore you leave me little choice but to accept your offer. You do realize that equal partnerships are almost unheard of on my world?”
Dean grinned and said, “Yep, but the way I see it, an amazing new product should come from an amazing new business. Besides, now I can let you know the best part.”
“What best part?”
“What I showed you was the base product. I’ve been holding back the part that will make us both extremely wealthy.”
“Base product? But what could be better than ice cream?”
Dean smiled and said, “Ice cream…with toppings.”
Chapter 24
For the remainder of the day, Dean and Quillitonoxic worked out the final details of their partnership and had the computer create the necessary legal documents to make it official. Once Dean had verbally agreed to the contract, the computer automatically filed the documents with the appropriate authorities.
With the details of their new business settled, Dean showed Quillitonoxic the ingredients required to make the ice cream and had the computer display the process. Afterwards, the alien was silent for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head from side to side and said, “I cannot believe that is all there is to it. It is so simple. Why have we not discovered this before now?”
“Sometimes the simplest things are the easiest to overlook, “Dean replied sagely.
Quillitonoxic looked at Dean with an odd expression. “Yes, you are correct of course.”
“Hey,” Dean said suddenly. “Why don’t we go out to dinner and celebrate?”
“I think that is a most wonderful idea,” Quillitonoxic said with a smile.
Dean and Quillitonoxic made their way back to the same restaurant they had eaten at on Deans first day on Garrosh. Upon entering, they were greeted warmly by a Gorroshtic named Quinsil. Quinsil was the owner and operator of the restaurant and best friend to Quillitonoxic. On one of his daily visits, Quillitonoxic had explained to Dean how Quinsil had been his best friend since they were both very young. Quinsil showed the pair to an empty table and departed to serve other customers. Quillitonoxic pushed a button on the table which brought a lighted display showing what items were available to order.
“So my friend, what would you like to order?” Quillitonoxic asked.
Dean, suddenly remembering the credit account Quillitonoxic had set up for him, began to wonder just how much money he had available to him. “Uh,” he began, “how much is left in my credit account?”
“Not to worry my friend, once I realized how much we are likely to make by selling your ice cream, I had the bank triple your credit account.” Quillitonoxic replied cheerfully. “That should be sufficient to maintain you until profits begin to arrive.”
“Thank you very much. You have been very kind since I arrived,” Dean said.
“Nonsense, I have simply been protecting my investment.”
Dean began to reply when a new being entered the room from the door that led to the kitchen. Dean immediately snapped his mouth shut and stared in amazement. Quillitonoxic, seeing Dean’s reaction, turned to look in the direction Dean was staring. Walking across the room with an empty container in her hands was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen. And, what had frozen his brain in mid-process was that she appeared to be human!
“Quill,” Dean asked, forgetting his promise not to use the shortened name in public, “how is there another human here?
Shaking his head in an odd fashion that Dean had come to understand was laughter, Quillitonoxic replied, “You are mistaken. That being is not of the same species as you.”
“I don’t understand,” Dean said.
“That being is of a species that is very similar to yours, but is from a different world,” he explained. “With trillions of worlds all developing life independently, nature only has so many ways to design a being and many different species end up looking much alike. There are over one thousand known species that are either nearly indistinguishable from, or closely resembles, the Gorroshtic. I did not want to tell you this before, but your species is what is known as a lesser being. This is because, while most body types are represented on many worlds, your body t
ype is extremely rare. I am only aware of one planet, other than your own, that contains a species that looks like you. That being you are so rudely staring at, comes from that world.”
Dean composed himself and turned to look at Quillitonoxic. “Who is she?”
“I do not know. We can ask Quinsil when he returns.”
Dean turned to once again stare at the striking figure clearing dishes from a table across the room. She was tall, maybe even taller than him. She had dark hair that hung down to the backs of her knees. She was thin and lithe, but shapely in all the right places. When she turned to head back to the kitchen, Dean could see that there was no white showing in her eyes. They appeared as black as the deepest cavern.
As the alien woman disappeared back into the kitchen, Quinsil approached their table. “Have you decided what you would like to order?” he asked.
“Quinsil,” Dean spoke up quickly, “who was that girl that was clearing dishes from that table?”
Quinsil looked around in confusion before understanding lit his features. “Oh, you must mean Meriyl. Why do you ask?”
“She just looks very similar to my species,” Dean replied. “I was curious who she is. Does she work here?”
“Now that you mention it, there is a resemblance. I hadn’t noticed before. As for her working here, of course she does, I own her.”
“What do you mean, you own her?” Dean asked with a sudden tension in his voice.
“She was caught stealing food from a small stand I own on another planet,” he explained. “By our laws, I own her until such time as she has repaid what she took one hundred times. Unfortunately for her, she took several of the most valuable items sold at that stand. It will be many years before she has paid her debt.”