Ted Chiang - The Story Of Your Life

Your father is about to ask me the question. This is the most important moment in our lives, and I want to pay attention, note every detail. Your dad and I have just come back from an evening out, dinner and a show; its after midnight. We came out onto the patio to look at the full moon; then I told your dad I wanted to dance, so he humors me and now were slow-dancing, a pair of thirtysomethings swaying back and forth in the moonlight like kids. I dont feel the night chill at all. And then your dad says, Do you want to make a baby?

Right now your dad and I have been married for about two years, living on Ellis Avenue; when we move out youll still be too young to remember the house, but well show you pictures of it, tell you stories about it. Id love to tell you the story of this evening, the night youre conceived, but the right time to do that would be when youre ready to have children of your own, and well never get that chance.

Telling it to you any earlier wouldnt do any good; for most of your life you wont sit still to hear such a romanticyoud say sappystory. I remember the scenario of your origin youll suggest when youre twelve.

The only reason you had me was so you could get a maid you wouldnt have to pay, youll say bitterly, dragging the vacuum cleaner out of the closet.

Thats right, Ill say. Thirteen years ago I knew the carpets would need vacuuming around now, and having a baby seemed to be the cheapest and easiest way to get the job done. Now kindly get on with it.

If you werent my mother, this would be illegal, youll say, seething as you unwind the power cord and plug it into the wall outlet.

That will be in the house on Belmont Street. Ill live to see strangers occupy both houses: the one youre conceived in and the one you grow up in. Your dad and I will sell the first a couple years after your arrival. Ill sell the second shortly after your departure. By then Nelson and I will have moved into our farmhouse, and your dad will be living with whats-her-name.

I know how this story ends; I think about it a lot. I also think a lot about how it began, just a few years ago, when ships appeared in orbit and artifacts appeared in meadows. The government said next to nothing about them, while the tabloids said every possible thing.

And then I got a phone call, a request for a meeting.

I spotted them waiting in the hallway, outside my office. They made an odd couple; one wore a military uniform and a crew- cut, and carried an aluminum briefcase. He seemed to be assessing his surroundings with a critical eye. The other one was easily identifiable as an academic: full beard and mustache, wearing corduroy. He was browsing through the overlapping sheets stapled to a bulletin board nearby.

Colonel Weber, I presume? I shook hands with the soldier. Louise Banks.

Dr. Banks. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, he said.

Not at all; any excuse to avoid the faculty meeting.

Colonel Weber indicated his companion. This is Dr. Gary Donnelly, the physicist I mentioned when we spoke on the phone.

Call me Gary, he said as we shook hands. Im anxious to hear what you have to say.

We entered my office. I moved a couple of stacks of books off the second guest chair, and we all sat down. You said you wanted me to listen to a recording. I presume this has something to do with the aliens?

All I can offer is the recording, said Colonel Weber.

Okay, lets hear it.

Colonel Weber took a tape machine out of his briefcase and pressed PLAY. The recording sounded vaguely like that of a wet dog shaking the water out of its fur.

What do you make of that? he asked.

I withheld my comparison to a wet dog. What was the context in which this recording was made?

Im not at liberty to say.

It would help me interpret those sounds. Could you see the alien while it was speaking? Was it doing anything at the time?

The recording is all I can offer.

You wont be giving anything away if you tell me that youve seen the aliens; the publics assumed you have.

Colonel Weber wasnt budging. Do you have any opinion about its linguistic properties? he asked.

Well, its clear that their vocal tract is substantially different from a human vocal tract. I assume that these aliens dont look like humans?

The colonel was about to say something noncommittal when Gary Donelly asked, Can you make any guesses based on the tape?

Not really. It doesnt sound like theyre using a larynx to make those sounds, but that doesnt tell me what they look like.

Anything is there anything else you can tell us? asked Colonel Weber.

I could see he wasnt accustomed to consulting a civilian. Only that establishing communications is going to be really difficult because of the difference in anatomy. Theyre almost certainly using sounds that the human vocal tract cant reproduce, and maybe sounds that the human ear cant distinguish.

You mean infra- or ultrasonic frequencies? asked Gary Donelly.

Not specifically. I just mean that the human auditory system isnt an absolute acoustic instrument; its optimized to recognize the sounds that a human larynx makes. With an alien vocal system, all bets are off. I shrugged. Maybe well be able to hear the difference between alien phonemes, given enough practice, but its possible our ears simply cant recognize the distinctions they consider meaningful. In that case wed need a sound spectrograph to know what an alien is saying.

Colonel Weber asked, Suppose I gave you an hours worth of recordings; how long would it take you to determine if we need this sound spectrograph or not?

I couldnt determine that with just a recording no matter how much time I had. Id need to talk with the aliens directly.

The colonel shook his head. Not possible.

I tried to break it to him gently. Thats your call, of course. But the only way to learn an unknown language is to interact with a native speaker, and by that I mean asking questions, holding a conversation, that sort of thing. Without that, its simply not possible. So if you want to learn the aliens language, someone with training in field linguistics whether its me or someone elsewill have to talk with an alien. Recordings alone arent sufficient.

Colonel Weber frowned. You seem to be implying that no alien could have learned human languages by monitoring our broadcasts.

I doubt it. Theyd need instructional material specifically designed to teach human languages to nonhumans. Either that, or interaction with a human. If they had either of those, they could learn a lot from TV, but otherwise, they wouldnt have a starting point.

The colonel clearly found this interesting; evidently his philosophy was, the less the aliens knew, the better. Gary Donnelly read the colonels expression too and rolled his eyes. I suppressed a smile.

Then Colonel Weber asked, Suppose you were learning a new language by talking to its speakers; could you do it without teaching them English?

That would depend on how cooperative the native speakers were. Theyd almost certainly pick up bits and pieces while Im learning their language, but it wouldnt have to be much if theyre willing to teach. On the other hand, if theyd rather learn English than teach us their language, that would make things far more difficult.

The colonel nodded. Ill get back to you on this matter.

The request for that meeting was perhaps the second most momentous phone call in my life. The first, of course, will be the one from Mountain Rescue. At that point your dad and I will be speaking to each other maybe once a year, tops. After I get that phone call, though, the first thing Ill do will be to call your father.

He and I will drive out together to perform the identification, a long silent car ride. I remember the morgue, all tile and stainless steel, the hum of refrigeration and smell of antiseptic. An orderly will pull the sheet back to reveal your face. Your face will look wrong somehow, but Ill know its you.