Planetary Parlay

by Cameron Cooper

  As the canopy retracted, I figured out the door controls and got the door open and got out, wrinkling my nose at the heat and moisture and the brush of wind against my face and looked around.

  It was an awfully lonely spot we’d arrived at. Anything could happen here.

  And might.

  —8—

  Jai and the four representatives—Gratia Rosalie, Arati Georgeson, Peter Kole and Jonas Keskemeti, damn his hide, along with Kristiana, who was the shortest in the group, even shorter than Peter Kole—arrayed themselves in front of the group of Carina people clumping up beside the cars. Our guys were not nearly as pretty and formally dressed as the Terrans.

  The group of Terrans on the steps stirred when they saw the parawolves. A soft whisper passed among them.

  Three of the Terrans stood a little in front of the rest. Jai headed in their direction, Coal trotting beside him, with the Carina diplomats hurrying to stay level with him.

  Because the Ami were right behind their representatives, I waved my hand and stepped up onto the first wide step and moved up behind Jai and our guys. We fanned out, the other four parawolves spread out amongst us. I told Vara to sit as I came to a halt at the back of the step, just before the next one, which put me two paces behind Jai.

  Vara was tense. I could feel the taut, narrow focus of her thoughts. She didn’t like the trees. Too much could be hidden behind them, and she could see people moving around amongst them, too, which upped the risk, in her estimation.

  I couldn’t help but agree with her, but I plastered a smile on my face and waited for Jai to address the Terrans, which was what we had all agreed upon, back on Triga, more than four weeks ago. I wore no weapons openly, but wished I had my shriver so I could at least rest the heel of my hand upon the butt.

  Yeah, I was feeling paranoid. If the Terrans really wanted to take out the core of the Carina worlds’ leaders, now was the perfect time to do it. We were all within reaching distance of each other. One nice fat target.

  The three Terrans smiled back at us. The one in the center was male, with advanced geriatric markers including all-grey hair and wrinkles about his eyes and throat. He was a heavy man, with a high, gleaming forehead. He glanced at the other two, then spoke something in a choppy Terran dialect.

  I nearly glanced at Ven for a translation, but before I could react, one of the androids standing almost directly behind the man spoke, too. Or, more accurately, the man’s voice issued from some outlet I couldn’t see on the thing. It was the same voice, but this time it spoke Common.

  “Welcome to Earth, my cousins. We have awaited this day with heavy anticipation, for the fruits of this meeting will impact us all.”

  The man did not smile as he spoke. The android did not move.

  Jai cleared his throat and glanced at Ven, then said, “We are pleased to have this opportunity to speak to you and to learn about your worlds and your people. We look forward to a mutually beneficial discussion and a positive outcome for everyone.”

  Nicely bland.

  Ven repeated the phrases in a dialect which sounded almost exactly the same as the older man had used. But what did I know? The only language I was fluent in was Common, but I could write it, read it and swear in it. I would not feel inadequate because Mace and Ven and a few of the others were bi-lingual. Or multi-lingual, really, for they could read and write Terran ideograms, and nearly all of them could speak in one or other of the dialects.

  The Terran who had addressed Jai and the diplomats did not look at Ven as Ven spoke. His nose wrinkled in distaste as Ven finished. The other two also looked uncomfortable.

  Interesting. Having a slave—even a former slave—translate for them was apparently an indelicacy.

  Jai didn’t miss it, either. He looked at Mace, who moved smoothly over the wide step and up to Jai’s side.

  “This is Mace Badelt, who speaks some of your language,” Jai said. “I am Jai Van Veen.” He touched the center of his chest, then gestured toward the other diplomats and moved down the line, introducing them. Each of them smiled at the Terrans in turn. “These people represent the Carina Worlds collectively, and I speak for all of them as necessary,” Jai finished. “I can introduce the other members of our group as needed, at a later time.”

  The three Terrans stared at Mace as he translated. His phrases were not nearly as smooth as Ven’s. He paused occasionally, searching for words.

  The grey-haired Terran spokesman grimaced, while the woman on his left looked bewildered. The man on his right grinned. It was a full-bodied, knowing expression, revealing white teeth. He spoke rapidly, while the android behind him said, “There is no need to provide your own interpretations. Our androids are all fully programmed with the dictionaries and language guide you provided us.” The man brought a hand to his chest, so the little finger barely touched the elaborate black jacket he wore. The movement made the silver chevrons on the shoulders shimmer and the braid along the open front to glitter dully. “I am Rayhel Melissa, the deputy Director of the Muradar Assembly. This…” He lifted his hand toward the older man, “…is Belfon Constantine, the Director of the Assembly.”

  Belfon Constantine lowered his head in a short nod. He still didn’t smile.

  “The lady to his left,” Rayhel Melissa continued, “is Isuma Florin, the Secretary of the Assembly.”

  The woman clapped her hands together and broke into a large smile. Her hands were gloved in purple fabric which matched her dress…or perhaps the gloves were part of it. The long sleeves were form fitting, as was the rest of the dress, until it reached her hips. Then it dropped straight to the ground, hiding even the tips of her shoes…if she wore any. The dress came with a hood of the same material, which she wore over the top of her hair.

  Beneath the brim of the hood, it looked as though her hair was nearly the same color as mine. Her eyes, though, were black, and she was of average height. Very average. Biologically, she looked to be middle-aged. Most of the people ranged behind the three also looked far older than any of us Carinads. Perhaps dressing elaborately was considered sufficient. We’d gone the opposite way and primped and topped up our rejuvenation therapies just for this occasion.

  Belfon Constantine was as elaborately dressed as the other two. His jacket folded out at the top of the neck, and the blouse he wore beneath also folded down around the neck. A gleaming piece of cloth was symmetrically arranged beneath it. It made me think of images I had seen in history files, with a modern flair.

  Formality was a sign of respect, perhaps.

  The woman, Isuma Florin, was smiling as if she was very happy to see us, when a moment before, she had shown no expression at all. Perhaps showing any reaction before being properly introduced was inappropriate, too.

  The man in the middle, Belfon Constantine, the Director of the Terran Assembly, wore a small smile now that Rayhel Melissa had introduced him, so maybe I was right.

  I could see why diplomacy was considered a highly skilled artform. My head was already beginning to ache with all the possible landmines we were just barely skirting around.

  “We have some lovely entertainment arranged for you,” the woman said, her hands still pressed together as if she was holding them that way to stop herself from clapping in glee. “Tonight, we will dine together and get to know each other a little better before the formalities tomorrow, yes?”

  Jai said, “It is a pleasure to meet all of you—Belfon Constantine,” and he nodded at the grey-haired man. Then, “Rayhel Melissa,” and another nod, then, “Isuma Florin,” and a final nod. “Dinner tonight would be an excellent opportunity to learn about each other, although our medic is concerned that Terran food might not suit our physiologies. Is there a dietician or medic who can confer with her?”

  Isuma Florin nodded. “Yes, yes, indeed,” she said, her tone enthusiastic. “We have doctors and biologists who can assist with this matter.”

  I stared at her, startled, for her android had not spoken to her, first.

 
Florin glanced from one face to the next. “Did my android say something wrong?” she asked. “You all look puzzled.”

  “We are puzzled,” Jai said. “Your android did not translate my words for you, yet you appear to have understood me, anyway. Do you know our Common language, then?”

  Rayhel Melissa shook his head as soon as Jai stopped speaking. “You do not have androids or translators in your worlds?”

  “We have no need for translators,” Jai said. “Everyone speaks the same language. The same dialect.”

  “Yes, of course,” Rayhel Melissa replied smoothly. “In the Muradar worlds, we have many languages and many dialects. Which you know already, I understand. At the higher levels of government, translators are a necessity.” He shifted his shoulders. “My android is linked directly to my brain. Its translation is near-instantaneous.” His smile was full of laughter. “It saves a great deal of time, as I’m sure you’ve just learned to appreciate.”

  “It is not a natural facility in our worlds,” Jai admitted, but didn’t sound at all apologetic about it.

  Rayhel Melissa shifted his shoulders and said something to the android in an undertone. “We have a small gift for you. We were not sure if it would be a necessary thing or not, as everyone on Earth has an android, but you might find it useful.”

  I glanced at the Ami and the Drigu. The Drigu did not have any androids among them. Rayhel Melissa was clearly not including the slaves in his definition of “everyone”. There were only two androids amongst the Ami, so not everyone in that class had their own, either.

  A soft tapping sounded and everyone facing us looked over their left shoulders. The Drigu separated, making way, then the Ami did the same, as another android stepped carefully down the shallow steps toward Rayhel Melissa.

  Compared to the android translators already standing among the Terrans, this one looked clunky and far more mechanical. In fact, its proportions were almost identical to a tall man with heavy shoulders and chest. The facial features had the same suggestion for eyes and a small opening for a mouth, and the merest hint of a nose. It gleamed, the metal covering it was gold and black, with deep red highlights across the shoulders. The black markings on the chest had once been decorated with golden swirls, but they had worn away and just a hint of their pleasant shapes was left.

  Compared to this creature, the other androids were far more slim and graceful. They were all very pale grey, with black extremities, their faces longer in the middle. I realized they reminded me of motherships with their organic curves and detailing.

  Rayhel Melissa held out his hand toward the bronzed thing as it stopped next to him. “This is Slate,” he told us—or rather, his android told us. I was already getting used to listening to the android and equating that with Rayhel’s speech, as if the android wasn’t there. “It is quite old and overdue for recycling. Its previous owner no longer has use for it, not even for basic functions. Slate can serve as a translator for you when one of us is not on hand to assist.”

  I wanted to protest. One of their things sent among us, to listen and report back? No, thank you.

  “We appreciate that very much,” Jai said, with a note of gratitude in his voice. “Slate will be very useful, thank you.”

  Rayhel Melissa gave the same laughter-filled smile as before and I wondered if he was actually laughing at us. He turned to the tall, bronzed android and said, “This man is Jai Van Veen. Until he leaves Earth, you are to follow his every command, anticipate his needs, and serve as his eyes, ears and voice. You will do the same for anyone Jai Van Veen indicates should also be obeyed. Do you understand?”

  The android, Slate, turned his eyeless head toward Jai. “I understand. I am yours to command, Sir Van Veen.”

  Huh?

  I think we all gaped.

  “‘Sir’” is a title of respect,” Rayhel Melissa explained. “Slate, use Carinad equivalents.”

  “There is no equivalent, sir,” Slate said.

  “There isn’t,” Jai confirmed. “‘Sir’ in our worlds is a form of military address for senior officers. Civilians are never called ‘sir’. Slate can call me Van Veen, or Jai, as everyone else does.”

  The three Terrans’ eyes grew larger. Behind them, a couple of the Ami looked amused or astonished.

  Slate moved down the steps and stood behind Van Veen. He blocked my view of the Terrans, for he wasn’t a little thing. I stepped to one side, which caused a ripple of movements sideways down the line.

  Isuma Florin did clap her hands, this time. “Dinner it is, then! I am so looking forward to this evening! Please bring your wolves with you. I would like to get to know them better, too.” She held out her hand and flicked her fingers but didn’t take her eyes off us. “Juro will take you to the accommodations we have put aside for you during your stay here on Earth. You have plenty of time to relax and rest and still prepare and dress for dinner.”

  I noted the implication with a sigh. Dinner would be even more formal than this moment. Oh, joy.

  “If you have need of anything, tell Juro to fetch it. Slate will help with that.”

  Juro, the slave who had come forward at the flick of her fingers, bowed very low, to the point where his back and the back of his head was all we could see. He moved over to where Slate stood motionless behind Jai. He murmured softly.

  The android stirred. “Juro asks that you please follow him.”

  Jai hesitated. “Our belongings…supplies…?”

  “Already in your suite,” Belfon Constantine assured us. He gave the same stiff, barely-there nod. “Until this evening.” He took a step back. His android shadowed his movement. They were in sync, in a very intimate way. It made me think of the way the array had once lived my life vicariously while perched inside my mind, feeling everything I felt, seeing everything I saw, experiencing everything I tasted, touched, smelled or experienced.

  I shuddered at the reminder. Waiting for verbal interpretations might slow us down, but it was better than the “convenient” alternative.

  Isuma Florin gave us another delightful smile. “Yes, until this evening!” She waved and hurried away and a dozen slaves fell in behind her. Her android flowed in long steps right beside her. She was already murmuring to it, even before stepping up onto the next step. She lifted the hem of her dress to do it.

  Rayhel Melissa swept into a bow which merely curled his shoulders. The bright smile didn’t shift. “After you.” He stepped to one side and snapped something to Juro, who jumped and hurried forward.

  Jai glanced around to make sure we were with him, then turned and trudged after the slave. Slate remained a half step to one side and behind Jai, as if he was attached by an invisible tether.

  I found myself on Jai’s other side, with Marlow beside me, as we followed Juro up the steps. I gave Rayhel Melissa a good long look as I passed. He tilted his head and the corner of his mouth lifted. Then he nodded at me the same way Belfon Constantine had done.

  Did this Rayhel know who I was? That was a disturbing thought.

  I caught up with Jai.

  “So,” he said, sounding very pleased. “We’re still breathing, Danny.”

  “A very warm welcome, indeed, under the circumstances,” Peter Kole said, from the far side of the bronzed android. She sounded very pleased.

  “Everything is warm here,” I pointed out. “Even the wind.”

  “Danny won’t lower her guard until Terra is behind us once more,” Marlow added.

  Damn right.

  —9—

  It took me a while to notice that people were staring at me because I was too busy looking around like a tourist myself.

  Juro moved into the building with everyone trailing behind him like the long tail of a comet that stretched farther behind him with every step, because we were all twisting our heads one way or the other to take in the interior of the building we’d stepped into.

  It was hard to call the place a building, because it defied most of the standards we had come to associat
e with our Carinad buildings. The largest difference was the lack of exterior walls. There were only the log things holding up the next floor, at regular intervals around the side of the building, and more of them holding up interior structures, including a wide circular staircase leading up to the next floor.

  We moved past one of the support struts and I brushed my hand against it. It felt warm to the touch, not cold like metal or extruded building materials, or forms. And this close, I could see rings at intervals along the struts. With a start, I realized that the organic feeling about the building might extend to a very literal level.

  I fell back until I was moving alongside Dalton. “Have these struts been grown?” I asked him. “Like your colony huts?”

  He touched a strut as we passed it, not even trying to hide his curiosity. “I think it’s even more natural than that. I think these are wild plants, harvested and used for construction. Maybe treated in some way to stop them degrading too quickly.”

  I nodded, thinking of the faded huts and houses I’d seen between the trees, outside.

  “Everything in here has a golden gleam,” Dalton added, “which makes me think the surfaces have been sealed.”

  “So, not even a manufactured construction fungus,” I murmured. I looked around with even more interest, as I hurried to catch up with Jai and the bronzed android trailing him. “Slate…may I call you that?” I asked the android.

  He didn’t shift his head to pretend to look at me. He didn’t answer, either.

  Then I remembered Rayhel Melissa’s instructions to Slate and with a tsk of annoyance, I lifted my voice. “Van Veen, please tell Slate to answer me.”

  Jai glanced over his shoulder, then turned and came to a halt. That let the stretched-out comet tail bunch up closer. They were all staring, looking around with wide eyes, nudging each other and discretely pointing.

  Jai looked at Slate. “Do I just tell you to listen to someone, if I want you to?”

  “I can hear everyone, Jai Van Veen,” Slate replied. “But I am not permitted to interact with them unless directed by you to do so.”