The Record She Left Behind. Patrice Sharpe-Sutton

they had to practice staying third-dimensional solid so later on Earth they wouldn't shock Earthlings. If they ever got there.

      She stretched her legs and got to her feet to go check the seeds. It was hard ignoring their pleas, the tiny prickly sensations in her mind.

      Sudden laughter sailed round the hall. Vatta glanced at Zer. “We're swapping travel jokes to pass time. Pool with us.”

      Zer was not in the mood for psychic communion. “What's funny?”

      “Maiden visits to Earth.”

      “Yours wasn't funny.” When humans rushed toward Vatta with flashing cameras, Vatta lost control of her body and turned into a semi-dematerialized halo long enough to play tricks on Earthling minds.

      “We’re a threat,” Vatta said, laughing.

      “Glad you broke them in. You suggesting we play jokes on them?” Zer asked. Better that than change their habits just so they could spend one month among them.

      “It gets easier staying solid, especially in Earth’s gravity.”

      “Sure.” Remaining third-di solid was easy until you had to. Now she flipped somersaults to keep from exploding or turning fourth- or fifth-dimensional. She used to go invisible at whim with no concern about appearances. It made for quick travel.

      “We're all having difficulty adjusting.” Vatta leaned over, tapped a long, pearly finger on Zer's screen and switched on image choices that activated memories. “Solid body sensations.”

      “Distractions.” These preflight simulations were Zer’s least favorite part of warrior training. She’d liked the physical exercise part and spent extra time in third-di form, practicing.

      “So you don't go planting trees.” Vatta changed the angle and size of pulsing frequencies. Huge, lifelike forty-foot waves surged straight at Zer.

      She ducked as the swell broke, smelled pungent seaweed—recalling its briny burning in her nose got her cells all agitated. The molecular frequency motions or bonds of her body changed. She gripped the chair, wishing she weren’t so volatile. She’d go nova, turn into a light being. She’d lose the way home.

      Leon, Zer telepathically shouted, turn on the music.

      Finally, a long, reedy note wailed past her round the deck. Vatta swayed with it, crooning. Zer jumped up to dance, but the tantalizing song receded. Drat Leon. Was it another test of her will? He was usually subtle. “Lousy pilot.” While composing, he was supposedly able to mentally stalk the crew, caring for their welfare.

      “You wanted to hear a music sample,” Vatta said.

      “I could’ve gone nova. He should’ve come.” Leon had the golden eyes; he could’ve calmed her just by looking at her.

      “C-ring's out of sync.” Vatta was listening to the thrum coming from the wall behind. “No wonder we're giddy.” Inside the C-ring wall, the pyrid’s midsection, energy twisted round a coil and generated subliminal throbs that promoted pooling or other states.

      “Rhythm's off,” Zer said.

      “You’ll adjust,” Vatta said.

      You’re off tune, Leon said, telepathically.

      Fine. I’ll take a walk, Zer thought back at him. And maybe she’d plant a few seed.

      That’s a dangerous thought cloud forming in your mind.

      You don’t have to monitor me that closely, Leon. If you are, why haven’t you helped?

      Busy. Leon conveyed an image of a broken song-keying slate, its cord disconnected from the music duct that transferred heat-color sound vibrations into the pilot’s hub. Take care you don’t get overstimulated. Leon laughed softly in Zer's mind.

      She couldn’t help smiling. One night back home, before he’d become so responsible, he’d followed her wandering moodily among ships in port and crawled after her into a ship’s quiet music tube. Basking in the cave-dark tubes usually soothed her.

      He chased her through the winding passage until they rolled around laughing and merging, fifth-di style. They performed the petal dance for the first and only time. They weren't blood-related, but even if they were, it wouldn't have mattered, not when it came to the petal dance. Bodies sang their truth, however temporary, and theirs had spoken.

      Is that an invitation? Zer asked.

       Warning.

      Don’t stalk me, she said.

      Temptation is brewing in your head, Leon said, still mind reading. It’s subliminal now—

      Cram your subliminals, Zer thought back, realizing what he meant. You talked me into this trip. And not you, nobody, said anything about temptation. Did you stage this mysterious thrum? If this is one of your weird tests, let’s see where it takes me. She’d received large amounts of wrong stimulation since leaving Zenobia. It was the offbeat thrum that provoked urges to plant Exotica seed.

      Working south quad didn’t help. She and Vatta, biologists with different expertise, worked facing space with their backs to the hall. Across the corridor, doors opened into a biolab and small plant-breeding drawers whose possibilities tugged at Zer.

      Prickly sensations assaulted her again, stronger. Zer hurried down the hall. Leon had caused her to want to plant Exotica trees.

      Taboo where we’re going, Leon telepathed. You’ll be fighting it all the way to Earth. I trust it’s not necessary to mentally stalk you the entire journey.

      Zer ignored him. He could’ve made her leave the seed or dump them in space. Was she so unfit for Earth that he had to keep thinking up tests for her to pass? Why insist she come?

      The urge to plant prodded Zer again, but now she wasn’t sure if the desire came from the seed or Leon. Those bags of seed could drive her mad. Obsessed at the time she’d brought them aboard, she’d easily rationalized tripling her gift-giving allotment. That same odd prickling, which she’d thought came from within, tugged at her from the biolab.

      Don’t, Leon warned.

      Zer walked as fast as she could past doors that led into the biolab, library, and restoration chamber and hurried into the engineering lab. Looking at blueprints engaged her love of building.

      She was viewing festival structure blueprints when the co-pilot announced a message from back home to stop sending stellar data and commence phase two of mission.

      Zer slowly slipped the blueprints back in the drawer. They’d reach Earth and meet aliens sooner. Why elders aborted phase one so soon hardly mattered. They were ultrasensitive, perceiving futures no one else saw for generations, seeing omens in raw data and their by-products.

      Zer hurried to her seat. The star map between her and Vatta's consoles refocused on a region of the Milky Way where Sirius, a guide star in Earth sectors, lit up. The co-pilot synchronized with the mothership's prime navigator. Uranus soon appeared, surrounded by flashing lights signaling a storm. The blue go light glowed on the map when all pyrids’ frequencies aligned with Sirius’ coordinates.

      Zer felt a pressure on her head, during transport to Sirius' neighborhood. Pilots reset coordinates, the ship hopped to Uranus, and dropped into orbit.

      Blue-green clouds back-lit by violent lightning bathed the planet. Ship sensors recorded ultraviolet heat-sound while voyagers watched, enthralled, orbiting with the strangely tilted planet. It had a reputation for inspiring unusual ideas.

      Its beauty captivated and flooded Zer with an expansiveness that broke through whatever had blocked pooling; she dipped her mind in and shared jokes with the crew, diving into the rapids and bubbles of group thoughts and sensations. She escaped her tree urges and visions.

      The communal sharing helped crews maintain common focus when flying missions.