Selected Assistant

by Robin Roseau

  “I think it is unfair to put me in the middle, and I think you should ask her. Have you done that?”

  “What would be the fun of that? And I believe you are already in the middle. If you wish to blame someone for that, you should talk to the one with far more limbs than I have.”

  I picked up my water and sipped at it before setting it down. I folded my hands. “I’m just a relatively young human. What do I know?”

  “You’re an exceedingly well-educated human,” she countered. “And you’re no child.”

  “I’m a robotics techie. That hardly makes me an expert in politics or extraterrestrial relationships.” I paused. “Prudence, I don’t want to spar with you. I am here offering friendship. Perhaps you are uninterested.”

  “Don’t play that game,” she said. “You’re fascinated by me.”

  I laughed. “By you, specifically?”

  “Not specifically. You would be equally fascinated by any non-human sitting across from you, offering her undivided attention.”

  “Except your attention isn’t on me; it’s on Jasmine and whatever game you think she’s playing.”

  “So, I should buy answers with more specific attention? Perhaps I should ask about your childhood.”

  I leaned back, studying her. She sat calmly, watching me. “Your appearance is very exotic,” I said. “I think I can use the word ‘beautiful’. I would love to get to know you, Prudence Tutor. But if the reason we’re sitting at this table together is so that I can spoil Jasmine’s game, or whatever it is you want, I’m uninterested.” I pushed away and stood up. “If you want to know what she’s doing, ask her. Good evening.”

  And then I turned and began to walk away. I got three steps before she said, her tone exceedingly commanding, “Taisha Saint-heart, come back here.” I didn't even slow. I made it three more steps before she said, “The technology you’re working with is Tutor.”

  I froze, considered, then turned. “Interesting.” I folded my arms. “I am fairly sure the linguistics department head didn’t invent it and probably understands it little better than I do. Even if I’m wrong, I’m close to positive you’re not offering to teach me. But even if you were, I think I would have to be exceedingly foolish to get between you and Jasmine Brighteyes. Good night.”

  I turned, but she said, “Ms. Saint-heart, if you walk away from me, I will have you collected. You won’t like it.”

  I froze. Then, without facing her this time, I said, “I guess you’ll do what you’re going to do.”

  This time I made a single step before she said, “Please!”

  Again, I stopped. I turned, folded my arms again, and said, “What do you want from me?”

  “I won’t ask about Jasmine and her games again.” She gestured to my chair. “Will you please share this meal with me?”

  “Why?”

  “Are you asking about your motivations or suggesting I offer some for you?”

  “Yours.”

  “Let’s start with yours. You’re as curious about me as I am about you.”

  “I’m just a random human.”

  She scoffed. “You’re anything but random.” She gestured again. “I would like to share this meal. I think you would, too. I promise to behave.”

  “You’re practically begging. Why?”

  “Because several people important to me are showing interest in you, and for that reason alone, I would like to get to know you. Because I don’t often interact with humans socially, and I was looking forward to sitting here with you.”

  I stepped closer, setting my hands on the back of the chair. I looked down at her. “I don’t think I like you.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “Apparently I know you well enough to know you threaten helpless humans when they don’t do what you want.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “If you walk away from me,” I quoted. “I will have you collected. You won’t like it.” I shook my head. “I have no idea if you would follow through on a threat like that.”

  “I’d have to use resources loyal to Jasmine Brighteyes to do it,” she said. “I find it unlikely they would do my bidding.”

  I stared at her, saying nothing, still gripping the back of the chair. I’d been looking forward to a nice meal, and now I wasn’t even sure I could eat. “Whatever games you’re playing,” I said, “and whatever games Jasmine is playing are well outside my realm. I’m an expert in exactly one thing, and I’m still learning about that.”

  “We’re all still learning,” she replied. “No more games. I promise. Please, Ms. Saint-heart.”

  I stared. I couldn’t decide what to do. I was frozen in my indecision. She looked up at me then lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t have threatened. I don’t always respond wisely when frustrated. I am sorry for that. It is a shortcoming of mine.”

  I said nothing but finally nodded before edging around the chair and settling. “Thank you for apologizing.” I couldn’t decide if it was heartfelt or not, but I really didn’t like her. I wondered if she’d been alienating me intentionally.

  I wished I had the visor. I could get her talking then send a message to Jasmine. But I didn’t, so I couldn’t.

  The waiter must have been watching, as he returned with our drinks and a basket of bread. I collected my lemonade and sipped at it. Then I gave myself a little shake. My legs were pressed tightly together and my arms hugged to my sides. And I was hunched over, trying to make myself smaller.

  Withdrawing into myself.

  Damn it. Just. Damn it.

  I looked away, a little heartsick.

  I shouldn’t have sat back down. I should have just left. I wondered if that was still an option.

  “I shouldn’t be the department head,” she said.

  “Oh?” I wasn’t sure I cared. I turned to look at her. “You seem to enjoy holding a position of authority.”

  “You barely know me,” she said. “Oh.” She hung her head.

  “Why don’t you say what you were going to say,” I suggested gently.

  She paused then looked up at me. I waited, and finally she seemed to come to a decision. “I shouldn’t be the department head. You need to know a few things. There weren’t limits on how many people could come, but there were fairly lofty requirements. Anyone who fulfilled the requirements was given a slot. That probably would have changed if there had been too much interest, but as it was, we could have taken more. Between the two ships, we could have taken at least a third more than we did.”

  “Okay,” I said. “And you fulfilled the requirements.”

  “Yes. As a linguist. I was recruited to this mission by the woman who was originally slotted as the department head, a Martian I’d met, oh, a decade previously.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Martians have a… cultural experience. She wanted to experience it once more before leaving, and in doing so, her priorities changed.”

  “She met a spouse?”

  “Yes. When she withdrew, she recommended me.”

  “That was decades ago.”

  “Yes. As department head, I actually don’t have a difficult job most of the time. The biggest danger for someone in my position is being pulled into politics. I have been very good at keeping us out of them.”

  “And you think Jasmine Brighteyes is attempting to drag you into some.”

  “And she is far, far better at it than I am.”

  “I don’t know anything about your position, or how the aliens work,” I said. “But I know a little something about academia. At a university, your position would be very political. You’d be constantly struggling over budgets and resources.”

  “That isn’t a problem,” she replied. “It might be if our needs were complicated, but they’re actually pretty simple. And frankly, no one cares about what we’re doing.”

  “Was it difficult to come here from the station?”

  “As in, did I have to convince anyone to let
us come?”

  “Yes, I guess that’s what I’m asking. It has to be expensive.”

  “It was only a matter of scheduling,” she replied. “We don’t measure expensive the way you do. There are a few resources that actually are dear: space on the station, and trips on the shuttles between the station and here. We’ve only built so many ships that can make the trip. But as we’ve never asked, there wasn’t any question whether the request would be approved, but only one of timing.”

  “No politics involved.”

  “No. And no budgets, either.”

  “I think I understand. Then I want to say something quite simple. If Jasmine Brighteyes is doing anything that would hurt you in some way, I don’t know it. I almost certainly don’t understand the implications of anything she is doing, though. And that’s why you should just talk to her. I bet if you do, she’ll tell you what she wants.”

  She paused then said, “Thank you. I’m not as confident as you seem to be, but I won’t ask you further. Related to everything I’ve just said is something else.”

  “Yes?”

  “As my staff seems to be fascinated by you, I feel a certain responsibility.”

  I laughed. “You’re worried you need to protect them from little old me?”

  “I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

  “I’m not offended, but how would you put it?”

  “I would suggest that we’re a close department, and I like to know not only the members of the department, but their spouses and children.”

  “I’m none of those.”

  “No, but are you telling me you find it unlikely to change.”

  “As I understand it, I’m not the one who will make that decision. I’m here to do a job, and I’m not wasting the chance to get to know as many of you as I can.”

  “So, what was it you were doing with Aventurine?”

  I smiled. “I’m not leading anyone on.”

  “I didn’t accuse you of it.”

  “Well then, we understand each other.”

  “I’m not sure we do.”

  “I like every member of your department that I’ve met so far. I could even decide I like you, but right now, I’m being very cautious.”

  “That is my fault.”

  “You’re right. It is. I find some of you very alluring.” I pointedly eyed her. If she recognized it, I don’t know. I gestured out the window. “Do you like Earth?”

  “Very much,” she said. “It is very different from my old home.”

  “Are you from the original Tutor home world?”

  “No. I was born on the second world we colonized.”

  “To be clear: the third world Tutors occupied?”

  “Yes. Long before we were sure there were other spacefaring species.”

  “I would think there would be evidence long before actual contact.”

  “Some of them knew about us,” she said. “At that point, we didn’t know about them. There are limits to the ability to detect other species. As noisy as humans have become, you have only been that noisy for a little over one hundred years. From more than one hundred light years, you are invisible.”

  “And it’s a big galaxy.”

  “One hundred light years is practically next door,” she said.

  “It’s not really, is it?”

  “No, but for finding neighbors, it is,” she clarified. “Some species remain particularly noisy, and so detecting them from increasing distances is possible. But one thing that happens is we become increasingly good at lowering our volume. Most species have grown quieter, not noisier.”

  “Ah. So. Your old home.”

  We talked about her home. We talked about my childhood and hers. I become increasingly relaxed and found myself smiling more often.

  The meal ended, and still we talked, ignoring events around us.

  The restaurant grew quieter. We weren’t the last present, but it had grown sparse when I looked around. I smiled at her. “Would you like to take a walk on the beach?”

  “I would adore a walk on the beach.”

  We didn’t hold hands. It wasn’t that type of evening. But I kept tossing glances at her as we walked. She caught me doing it a few times, but she said nothing, and she may not have recognized it as significant. For as poorly as we had started, I was a little surprised we seemed to have developed a connection of sorts.

  But we walked on the beach, talking quietly. Eventually she asked, “Is it safe to sit on the sand?”

  “If you don’t mind getting a little sand on your clothing,” I said. I picked a spot and plopped down, tucking my legs up and lightly hugging my knees.

  Prudence sat down beside me, then mirrored my posture. “I haven’t sat on a beach since leaving home.”

  “You’ve been here for a while.”

  “Yes, but I haven’t sat down to look at the water like this.”

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose you prefer the space station.”

  “There are some things I like about the station,” she replied. “But if it were safe, nearly all of us would prefer to live on a planet.”

  “It’s safe right here,” I said.

  “Perhaps, but there are elements that are unwilling to present this tempting of a target. There are rogue elements in each of your governments that would love to be entirely rid of us.”

  “And some of those people wear military uniforms.”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you stop anything they might do?”

  “We think so, but it’s not the sort of thing we want to test.”

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  “You don’t represent the problem,” she replied. “Don’t take responsibility for something you don’t control. I want to ask you something entirely unrelated.”

  “Sure.”

  “You’ve been looking at me.”

  “I have.”

  “Does that mean anything in particular?”

  “I find you exotic and alluring.”

  “Not just me.”

  “No, not just you but I was being specific. That was the singular form of ‘you’, not the plural form. They’re only looks. Was I offending you?”

  “No. If you weren’t already receiving significant attention from my staff, I might be giving you the same looks.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hadn’t ever thought of a human mate.”

  “Maybe you should start by thinking about a human playmate, or don’t Tutor do that?”

  “Tutor definitely do that, but unless you stop receiving similar attention from other directions, it won’t be with you.”

  “I wasn’t being that specific,” I said. “There’s an entire resort full of women who would find you alluring.”

  “Perhaps not an entire resort.”

  “I’m fairly sure nearly every woman here would find you alluring, but a smaller percentage would be open to being your playmate for a while. I don’t, however, imagine you would have any difficulty finding one, if you tried.”

  “I’ve never done that.”

  “Found a human playmate?”

  “Done the finding, regardless of species.”

  “You should host an event. A dance.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There must be somewhere you could invite forty or fifty people. Food. Music. Conversation. Dancing. People would come to meet you, your staff, and your families. Do Tutor dance?”

  “We do, but perhaps not the same way humans do.”

  “Humans dance many different ways, but you would want to dance in a fashion that lets you hold her. Stand up.” I stood then pulled her up to me and right into my arms. She seemed very stiff, but I whispered, “Relax. This is just a demonstration. Let me move your hands.” I put them where I wanted them, and then I said, “Imagine there’s music.” I began humming, trying to put a tempo in it, and then I got us dancing.

  She remained stiff
, but we moved around the sand, not very far, mostly staying in one place, but it felt nice.

  But then just as I thought she was starting to relax, she pushed away from me. I froze, horrified that I’d done something wrong. I stared at her for a minute then said tightly, “I am very sorry if I’ve offended you. I was only trying to show you.” Then I turned for the path, hurrying away.

  “Wait,” she said, and then she ran past me, interposing herself in my path.

  “Prudence,” I said.

  “You didn’t offend me, Taisha. I’m sorry that you think so.”

  I tried to look at her, but I found myself looking out at the cove. She stepped closer, not quite touching me. “I was enjoying that more than I felt I should.”

  “You’re supposed to enjoy it,” I said.

  “Not with you, not that much.”

  I thought about it then realized I was smiling. “Oh?”

  “Yes. Oh,” she said. That was when she touched my arm. I finally looked at her. She was on slightly higher sand, so I found myself looking up. “I’m going to ask Jasmine Brighteyes if we may host such an event.”

  “And you’ll dance?”

  “Yes. Perhaps not with you.”

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  “You’ll have ample partners,” she said.

  “If you decide to choose a playmate, be open with her about your intentions. Don’t let her think you’re selecting her as a mate if you’re only interested in a night or two.”

  “I’ll be clear.”

  “She may not really hear that part.”

  “That particular danger transcends species,” she replied. “In fact, I’ve made that mistake myself a few times.”

  “Assuming more than it was?”

  “Or thinking if it was good enough, she’d change her mind.”

  “Ah. Prudence, do you think we’ve become friends?”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “As would I. I dance with my friends, and there’s nothing wrong with enjoying it.”

  “There is if I start thinking of…”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, either,” I said.

  “It’s a form of torture.”

  “Not when there are other choices available,” I pointed out. “You’re right. If there weren’t other choices, it would be a form of torture, although a rather pleasant form.”