The first was a gregarious engineer, a designer at a major military contractor who’d risen to prominence at a surprisingly young age in their experimental division. She had little idea what work he did or how he did it, but he must do so brilliantly, given the conversation she was hearing. He was cheerful, optimistic, and full of both new ideas and cutting analysis. Baby faced, and slightly overweight, he looked even younger than his probable age. He looked barely more than a boy.
The other, somewhat less young, man was full of new ideas and cutting analysis too, and in a sense he could be called optimistic, or at least fiercely confident, but he was far from cheerful. Tall and gangly, he had wide, intense eyes and odd, quick body language.
Unlike the engineer, who toiled away in relative anonymity at his firm, the other man was something bordering on world-famous. He was Professor Darex Jat, considered by many to be the most brilliant physicist of his rising generation, and by some to be the most brilliant of any generation. Jat himself was by all accounts in the latter camp.
Jat had risen to fame early as a kind of boy genius, and by the time he’d completed his education, he’d helped solve contradictions in quantum physics that had baffled some two generations of scientists. His groundbreaking work there and elsewhere were not only spectacular, but had led to applications that were even now transforming the leading edges of the applied sciences and engineering.
The very stereotype of the odd-mannered scientist, he was almost as well known among the general public for his wild unkempt appearance and colorful temperament as for his actual work.
The two were debating theories of interstellar Faster Than Light travel – FTL - the ways in which the constraints of relativity might be circumvented, the quantities of power required to do so, and what sort of ships could survive the trip.
The engineer, who had forgotten his name tag, and now seemingly his name on seeing Jat, had walked over and immediately launched into the arcane discussion that now engrossed them all. He might not match Jat’s knowledge of abstract physics, but he certainly outmatched him in practical application, and between the two, they were weaving wonders.
Tayyis followed the cadence of their speech. The engineer’s enthusiastic monologues, Jat’s sharp, odd-paced ones. Neither of them seemed to have built a substantial toolkit of social skills during their education and careers.
She listened to their language as it unfolded, catching the meaning of obscure terms from context, and fitting them into the growing pattern. Some of what they were saying was beginning to make sense. She was a collector of languages, really, with fifteen complete sets thus far, and pieces of dozens more. While their jargon didn’t quite count as one, it was worth learning.
Her reverie was broken by the imminent arrival of someone else.
There was Professor Karden heading straight her way with a piled plate of no-doubt scavenged snacks in one hand and a drink in the other! Oh, this should be interesting, she thought. Karden, aging doyen of a field that favored the old and learned, calm, caustic but well-spoken and even suave in his way… and these two intense, awkward young men, brilliant newcomers in fields where most made their marks early.
“Professor Karden, how good to see you again!”
“Ah, likewise Tayyis. How is this gathering of windbags treating you? I hope the gusts aren’t too strong.”
“I’ve avoided them entirely and am basking in the sunlight of these two young minds.”
The two young minds were busy directing something more like lightning than sunlight at each other, and completely failed to notice her compliment.
“Well then, young Darex I recognize, who’s this other fellow?”
“He never said his name. But listen to what else they are saying!”
Karden set to work on that, and his refreshments.
Together the two older social scientists listened to the animated, difficult, but still informative conversation on ideas like tachyons, space-time, wormholes, fusion and antimatter power, antigravity, force fields, the structural integrity of known metals, and much more.
Occasionally they even grasped some of the underlying and heavily mathematical principles that supported the bold ideas. The working theory seemed to be, based on the phenomena observed, that the aliens used some form of wormhole through space-time as their means of FTL travel.
Finally, the two young men paused, perhaps remembering where they were, or maybe simply for breath.
Tayyis took the opportunity, “Professor Jat, allow me to introduce Professor Haral Karden.”
“Eh? You wrote that book on cultural first contacts… read it in school. Good. No accident YOU are here. I work with…”
“Oh, no further introduction needed, I know of your accomplishments, Professor Jat!” smiled Karden.
“And this,” said Tayyis, turning to the engineer, “is…”
The young man looked down at his chest in confusion, remembering for the second time in an hour that he hadn’t worn his name tag, and looked back up with a sheepish expression.
“My name is Neem, Neem Ranacharandgan. It’s an honor to meet you both! Sorry, I was excited to see Mr., err, professor Jat, and then I got caught up in the conversation. These are amazing times!”
“An honor to meet you, Mr. Ranacharandgan,” said Tayyis, pronouncing the name perfectly.
“Most pleased to meet you, Neem” said Karden, taking the path of lesser resistance.
“So, anyway…” said Jat, turning back to the engineer with all signs of resuming the conversation where it had left off.
However, it was not to be. At that moment the sound system squawked, and an announcement began in the eloquent, mellifluous, ever so slightly dull, voice of the nation’s President.
“Thank you all for coming. I will soon be making a televised broadcast announcing that the visitors have entered low orbit and appear to be slowly approaching this very city…”
There was a low, collective gasp from the crowd.
“Please stay calm. We will keep you informed as events develop. In the meantime, I call your attention to the video screens throughout this building, as we have their approach on live feed.”
Karden felt his usual visceral reaction to the smug, presumptuous edge in the president’s choice of words, the edge that had made him vote for the other one.
The large screen at the end of the room came on. Aircraft, ground-based observers, and satellites were all watching the aliens intently now, and a clean image came in of the great ships descending through the upper atmosphere. They had slowed dramatically, and were now shifting their formation as well, from a sort of cube to a single level square in rows and columns.
The camera switched to that of a high-altitude observation craft, lower and closer. The aliens appeared to be leveling off well above even the highest clouds. The gigantic ships came to a complete stop. The camera switched again, to a ground view. They still looked large even at that distance and from that perspective.
Jat was talking to no one in particular. “No visible propulsion streams underneath, just the engines in the back, no wings, big lumbering things… hmm, antigravity? Would be nice to know how they do it…”
The screen flickered and the video of the fleet, with all eyes on it, suddenly shifted to a box in the lower right hand corner, while the president at his podium appeared on the main screen. His elegant but bland features filled the central screen. His eyes focused, as they tended to, on the indeterminate middle distance. He started his speech.
Several people groaned, others muttered in annoyance. Some quick-thinking hotel staffer darted forward and adjusted a setting. The alien ships returned to the main screen, and the president, in his glory, was relegated to the corner. The camera shifted again back to the observation craft, which was now slowly circling the alien fleet. Things were happening. Panels were opening along the bottom, sides, and front of the alien ships. Devices were coming out. Everything moved in a smooth, beautiful, flawless dance of technology.
/> Neem gasped. “Those are weapons, guns of some kind, there… and those other ones,” he pointed excitedly, “they’ve got to be missile launchers. Yes! No doubt about it, missiles. What an ingenious design…”
Tayyis tapped his arm. He stopped talking, paused, and dug a digital notepad out of his pocket. Low and unhappy noises swept through the crowd, as others also realized what the new objects must be.
The President was droning on. “Though none can know for certain, one doubts that these visitors, so far in advance of ourselves, having come such a vast distance across the heavens, mean us ill. We may all hope for peace, and trust that…”
At that moment an aide interrupted him, whispered something. The President addressed the camera “If you will excuse me for a brief moment, it appears the visitors are sending us a message. We should… consider this a good sign,” he stepped off-camera, looking, for once, flustered.
The room was now very quiet.
The feed of the president’s podium went off, and the aliens unwittingly regained control of the lower right corner of the screen. The president’s voice appeared again, once more through the hotel sound system.
“Respected guests, as you may know from my broadcast, the visitors have sent us a message. For the general good of this and of all nations, and to avoid any grounds for… needless speculation on the part of the public, we will not yet broadcast it. Rather, we will be replaying it over the sound system for your review. We hope to get your best analysis. However, I believe you will find what you hear reassuring, and a counter to impressions that might be formed by the, ah, possible weapon-like objects now presented by the visiting ships.”
Karden snorted.
The president continued. “My staff will be circulating afterward to discuss and collect your views. I therefore request that for the next hour, you do not leave the building.”
Karden could hardly imagine that anyone was likely to leave NOW. But, why should the President pass up the opportunity for a patronizing request to do the obvious?
“I think I’m a bit old for a pop quiz,” he muttered.
Tayyis smiled at him.
4
The broadcast began. It was in their language, not that of the aliens.
“We bid you greetings from the stars, and wish you peace. We are the Elders, guides and protectors of the galaxy, the first people to travel the stars, and the caretakers of those who come after. We are here because we have watched you, and now judge you ready to know of us. You have shown yourselves worthy of a great opportunity, your world’s chance to join the vast community of galactic civilization, and learn what we have to teach…”
Karden felt his nerves prickle.
Tayyis made note of the voice as much as the words. The vocabulary and sentence structure were excellent, if stiltedly formal. She decided they’d probably used news and official communications as their sources, and must have been listening for a long time. However, the voice’s accent was disturbing… sounds made by vocal equipment unsuited to the language it was speaking. She speculated as to what that meant about the appearance of the aliens.
Neem wasn’t paying much attention to the speech. He was still watching the alien ships with a beaming grin on his face, and taking notes.
Jat, in the otherwise silent room, let out a snorting laugh. “What! They actually CALL themselves the Elders? I…!”
Heads turned. Karden wasn’t sure whether to glare at him or smile. Someone elbowed Jat in the back and whispered a venomous “shhhh!” He fell silent again.
The alien voice had been continuing on.
“Do not be alarmed at the weapons now presented by our ships. They are merely to forestall any unfortunate accidents due to misunderstanding. Though you are incapable of harming our emissary ships, we do not wish you to harm yourselves in trying. Begin, therefore, with us in peace. We come with knowledge, we come with advice. We bring you community, we bring you enlightenment, and we bring you gifts. We have an embassy waiting to visit you, and we await your reply.”
Karden stood there, the most ominous trains of thought creeping into his mind. He felt a hint of fear rising, but quickly drowned it in his accustomed sarcasm.
“Thankfully short.”
The others nearby, except for Neem, looked at him.
“But there was much said, and even more left out. I hope the President and the rest of the leadership have their wits about them right now.”
A buzz of excited conversation was rising in the rest of the room.
Jat had a wry look on his face. “This part – this is the part where they land, look noble, win our trust, then start collecting us as food.”
He snorted that off-putting laugh of his again. “Elders… ELDERS!”
Karden smiled at the thought of old, bad videos about malevolent aliens, and decided he was beginning to like Jat. Then another unsettling thought occurred to him. Food? Perhaps in a strictly metaphorical sense, that might turn out to be all too true.
Tayyis looked at them both, caught their attention, ignoring Neem. “That speech was good. Not the content I mean, but the language. I know the voice sounded odd, but they’ve been studying us, with intelligence, for a while. This emissary fleet of theirs, if it is that, can’t have been their first visit.”
Jat looked at her with approval. “Yes! Not their first visit to the solar system at least. They don’t need to have been TOO close to have picked up some of our communication. Easier to stay hidden around the outer planets. Some minor moon maybe, or an asteroid.”
Karden took it all in. “Their tone was, to say the least, condescending. Even if they mean us well, we should consider what that means about them. Consider also the obvious implied threat of the weapons being run out before they sent their message. If we really can’t harm them in any way, and they would never harm us, why present weapons?”
Neem looked over with a brief moment’s interest.
“And,” continued Karden “…consider some of the possible implications of those little words community and enlightenment.”
Neem looked up at the screen, down at his notes, back over at Karden, and the smile left his face.
The presidential staff was beginning to show up, recorders and notepads in hand, circulating around and asking questions. The room was a cacophony of talk now. There were conversations with each other, conversations with the staffers, and many opinions. Despite the herding efforts of the staff, groups milled about, forming and reforming.
Karden, Tayyis, Jat, and Neem kept most of their conversation with each other. Outside of their little group, opinion seemed to be on balance positive about the intent of the aliens. Some of the attendees were visibly elated, moving and talking excitedly about the astonishing future awaiting everyone.
A tall rangy man of middle years, conservatively dressed, walked up. Karden recognized him, a prominent businessman, from news images. The others it seemed did not. The man extended a hand.
“Professor Karden, I’m a huge fan of your books. My name’s Pavol Harker, of Harker Industries.”
Karden basked momentarily. “Mr. Harker, good to meet you, and my thanks. You look like you have something on your mind.”
Harker looked around the room. “People here seem… optimistic, except for you four. You’ve already gotten a reputation as the naysayers of the conference. Well, I’m with you. Something about all this isn’t right. It feels like a sales pitch, or a scam. In political terms…”
“Propaganda,” said Karden.
“Exactly,” said Harker, with barely repressed intensity. “We’re being sold a bill of goods, and payment is going to come due. Karden, I’m not just a fan of your books, I’ve taken some lessons from them – what happens when groups with different sets of assumptions meet and most likely compete. What comes of the creation and the destruction unleashed. How effectively they react, how effectively they adapt, determines whether they survive, or not - in business, in war, in culture, and in whatever it is these aliens have pla
nned for us.”
Karden beamed almost as he might to a bright student. “I see that in fact, you HAVE read my books, Mr. Harker. Ah, my apologies, may I introduce my friend Tayyis Lyr, a most brilliant linguist, Professor Darex Jat, of whom you’ve probably heard, and…”
Neem burst into the conversation, his notepad momentarily forgotten. “Harker Industries! Mr. Harker? I applied for a job at your company sir, when I first finished school!”
“Good to know it son.” Laughed Harker, his intensity broken. “Sorry we didn’t hire you, but based on your being invited to this shindig, I’d guess things turned out all right. Where do you work now?”
“At Combine Defense Technologies, in the experimental division, sir.”
“Combine? The experimental division! Then, you must work with, ah, what’s that genius’s name, Rana…”
“I AM Neem Ranacharandgan, sir!” Said Neem, again noticing his own missing nametag.
“You! Well that is something. I’d heard you were young, but didn’t know how much so. Now I really do wish we’d hired you. Say, I’d bet we could make you an offer above what Combine’s paying you…”
“Oh no sir, they pay me well enough, and though I really respect what your company does, the inventions you’ve brought to market, the difference you’ve made in so many people’s lives… there at Combine I have found my life’s work. Military equipment and the systems that support them fascinate me sir, and there, I can really pursue my ideas, I can create!”
Harker chuckled. “Well, can’t argue with that, but we’d see about the pay.”
Karden took another drink and looked over at Tayyis. She must have made a recording of the alien speech, and was repeating it at low volume, her mind clearly at work.
Alien Empire Page 2