Word Night on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 9)

by E. M. Foner

  “I brought in carob cookies that Shaina made three days ago,” Daniel reminded the ambassador. “You ate them all while I was scouting locations for the presidential reception.”

  “Oh, right. I was trying to think of a cheap kind of real chocolate. Maybe I’m not cut out to do crossword puzzles.”

  “Let’s just concentrate on preparing for the president’s visit,” Donna said. “How long will he be on the station?”

  “He left it open, depending on how the meetings with alien diplomats and businessmen go. If he can find serious negotiation partners, he said he’ll stay here as long as it takes. Libby told me that the Stryx will foot the bill for all of his travel arrangements, but the president sort of invited himself to stay with me at home.”

  “I checked with the Empire Convention Center, and all of their high-end reception rooms are booked through the end of the cycle,” Donna said. “Your office is barely big enough for the president to meet with aliens one-on-one, if they’re even willing to come to him. We may be stuck holding the reception in Mac’s Bones after all.”

  “Other than our friends, do you think any of the aliens will actually agree to meet the president?” Kelly asked. After two decades on the station, she was acutely aware that most alien relations with humans were driven by temporary shared interests, rather than a desire to accept EarthCent as an equal partner.

  “They’ll show up as a professional courtesy because they owe you,” Donna said. “You go to every embassy reception the aliens hold when some big wheel from back home comes to visit. We’ve never held a first-class reception before, though some of the parties in Mac’s Bones were pretty successful. The trick will be getting them to stay for more than a few minutes. Do you think a ball would work?”

  “You’re a genius! Ball. A four letter word for ‘raw crumbles’ that starts with a ‘b’ and has an ‘l’ in the third place. I missed the cookie connection.”

  “What?” Daniel asked.

  “Before the cookie crumbles, it has to get baked, and before it’s baked, you make a sort of a ball from raw dough.”

  “This is exactly why I don’t do crossword puzzles,” Donna commented. “What did you say the title of this one is?”

  “Baker’s History,” Kelly replied. “That’s why it’s all about ingredients or prep work. I’ll tell you what. I’ll pay for lunch today, and if I can get Aisha and Laurel to meet us, I’m sure we could get through this puzzle before Dring brings me his solution.”

  “It’s your turn to buy Friday lunch anyway,” Donna pointed out. “I’ll play along if you can explain why you’ve become so obsessed over these puzzles.”

  “I don’t know. They seem to get stuck inside my head somehow.”

  “It’s because you keep trying to solve them on your heads-up display,” Donna said in exasperation. “Didn’t you tell me that Dring does them on paper?”

  “Parchment. He draws the whole thing, but that’s because he’s an artist. I once tried recreating the puzzle on the back of a pizza box but it came out a mess.”

  “I’ll start printing them for you on immunization certificates,” Donna offered. “We still have boxes of those to use up and you can get pencils from EarthCent Intelligence. Now, can we get back to work?”

  “Sorry. Uh, you were suggesting a fancy-dress dance?”

  “Not a dance, a ball. With a live orchestra and somebody in a uniform to announce the guests. Do you think Woojin would do it?”

  “Wait. What? You want us to hold a ball like in fairy tales?”

  “Balls used to be a big part of the diplomatic world, at least in Old Europe.”

  “We don’t have time to bring in a human orchestra so we’d have to hire Vergallians,” Kelly said. “I’m not saying people wouldn’t enjoy it, but considering the Empire of a Hundred Worlds was getting ready to add us to their ‘conquered’ list before the Stryx stepped in, it would send the wrong message for the first visit of the president.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Donna allowed, putting aside her secret dream of organizing the ultimate diplomatic event. “It wouldn’t be the same with recorded music. But if you want the alien diplomats to stay for longer than it takes to meet the president and say something offensive about our lack of progress, we’ll need more than colorful decorations.”

  “Jeeves just pinged me and we now have permission to use the medieval castle he and Paul have been working on for Libbyland,” Daniel said, rejoining the conversation. “There are a lot of details to be worked out, but you know how many aliens are obsessed with old-fashioned weapons and armor.”

  “That’s a great idea, but don’t let it distract you from catering arrangements,” Donna said.

  “I was going to ask you to handle that part,” Daniel admitted. “The main problem with the castle is that they haven’t hired any staff yet and we only have a week to get ready. They’re using holograms to make the most of the deck clearance, so the castle looks like it’s built on a rocky mountain, with a single approach road. The wall facing the road is wide enough for a couple hundred guests if there aren’t any defenders taking up space, but the interior rooms and the great hall won’t be finished in time. They eventually plan to have reenactors attacking the castle, but Paul says there’s room to stage a battle out front if I can line up the actors.”

  “Maybe Bork knows somebody who can help,” Kelly suggested. “You know he uses all of his vacation time doing background acting work for immersives.”

  “Isn’t the medieval castle supposed to be on Earth?” Donna asked. “You’ll have to remind me which country had the knights with the tentacles.”

  “I remember him saying that on-station auditions are really competitive, so there must be a lot of reenactors around,” Kelly said, warming to her own idea. “I’ll stop by the Drazen embassy tomorrow and ask Bork if he knows anybody.”

  Strains of the EarthCent anthem penetrated the office and the ambassador and the embassy manager exchanged a puzzled look.

  “Daniel? Are you angling for another promotion already?” Kelly asked.

  “Always,” Daniel replied. “Shaina says that ambition in a husband is a turn-on, but what does that have to do with the awful music?”

  “I know,” Donna said ruefully. “Every year when I fill in EarthCent’s employee feedback form, I always tell them to lose the anthem and get something that a normal person can sing. Where is the music coming from, Libby?”

  “If you’ll direct your attention to the entrance,” the Stryx librarian replied. The door slid open and a familiar woman stepped into the opening.

  “Hildy?” It had been a couple of years since Kelly had last seen EarthCent’s public relations director, but strangely enough, the woman looked younger than she remembered.

  “Do I really have to do this?” Hildy asked, looking back over her shoulder into the corridor. She sighed, and then put on the brightest smile she could muster and announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen. I give you the President of EarthCent.”

  The irritating anthem swelled to a crescendo, and Stephen Beyer strode into the embassy, looking a bit sheepish about his grand entry. “Thank you, Librarian,” he shouted over the loud whooshing noise that the composer had intended to represent the fleets of alien transports landing on Earth. The anthem cut off abruptly.

  “What are you doing here?” Kelly exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. “You aren’t supposed to arrive for another week.”

  “We decided to turn it into a sort of a honeymoon,” the president replied happily. “You know Hildy Greuen.”

  “But aren’t you already, er…” Kelly cut herself off before the “M” word escaped.

  “Sort of,” Stephen replied. “That’s why it’s only sort of a honeymoon. But I’ve been separated from my wife for years now, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. About your separation I mean, I didn’t know. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, Hildy. Oh, that didn’t come out right. No offense.”


  “None taken,” the president’s companion said. “I’m going to have to get used to being a home-wrecker, so what better place to start than with friends?”

  “You’re not a home-wrecker,” Stephen said in irritation. He put his arm around her waist and addressed the embassy staff. “After all those years living on Stryx stations, my wife couldn’t stand being back on Earth. I always hated living on stations myself, and our kids were all grown, so we decided to try living apart for a while. Then she took up with—it’s not important, but I promised not to divorce her until she was ready to settle down.”

  “Settle down?” Kelly said. “I’m afraid I don’t get it.”

  “One of the few perks of the EarthCent presidency is that the Stryx pay all travel expenses for the president and spouse,” Stephen informed them. “I suspect when they established that policy they didn’t have this situation in mind, but my wife loves to travel, and she made some kind of bargain with them that I don’t even want to know about.”

  “Well, let’s get the two of you settled in,” Kelly offered. “I haven’t prepared your rooms, uh, or room yet, but you must be tired from the trip.”

  “We spent all three days in stasis so we’re well rested,” the president said. “I always hated Zero-G. In any case, we reserved a hotel room for the first week, that’s the honeymoon part. I’m not officially here for another six days and seventeen hours.”

  “And why are you here now, Mr. President?” Daniel asked politely.

  “Excellent question, Consul Cohan. I was waiting for somebody to ask. Last month, my office sponsored a convention for the heads of companies from all over Earth. A few of them are doing well making playing cards and kitchen gadgets, and ever since the orbital elevators were built, the food companies have been raking it in providing supplemental supplies for human laborers all over the tunnel network. But our technology companies have been transformed into importers for cheap alien products.”

  “We’ve been planning a campaign to promote Earth’s higher education system to the children of expatriate laborers, which is why your criticisms of our universities struck such a chord,” Hildy added. “We think it’s of vital importance to get some of the best and brightest of humanity reconnected with Earth, even if it’s initially just for a few years of education.”

  “But what can you offer them?” Kelly asked. “I’m sure that Earth is a fine place to study human history or literature, but for most career paths, students are better off with the Open University on the stations, or getting on-the-job training from alien employers that accept them in apprenticeship programs.”

  “We’re aware of that, and we’re also aware that many young humans who would have pursued a higher education one or two generations ago are instead settling on open worlds or becoming small traders,” the president said. “Our concern is that we are on the brink of completely losing our educational infrastructure and that future generations will come to accept our technological inferiority as the status quo. We have the beginnings of a plan to address this, and rather than sitting around Earth talking it to death, I decided to visit Union Station and put it to the test.”

  “What test is that, sir?” Daniel asked.

  “Welcoming an alien invasion,” the president replied. “Regular contact with alien diplomats is the one thing I miss about being an ambassador. The only aliens I see on Earth are either tourists who come slumming or shady businessmen hoping to sell us obsolete weapons systems. It may sound strange to you, but if I want to find out what the other species are thinking, I have to ask the station ambassadors to do the talking for me.”

  “So you want to approach the other species about rebuilding Earth’s education system?” Kelly asked doubtfully.

  “I want to invite them to open campuses on Earth,” the president said. “It’s the only way my people could think of to get around the existing education cartel. I’m sure it’s easy for you to forget when you’re living out here, but the old national governments on Earth still exist, primarily as pay-for-service entities. They usually keep a low profile because they don’t want to push more people into emigrating and losing what’s left of their fee base but they’re still deeply entrenched in the education system.”

  “That’s an interesting idea,” Donna said. “If I remember the EarthCent charter correctly, the president can award alien holdings with exterritorial status, like an embassy, so that the national governments wouldn’t have jurisdiction. If an alien school starts attracting the best students, the existing universities will have no choice but to adapt or shut down.”

  “Exactly. And we’re also hoping that alien-run facilities will be more attractive to the children of expatriate laborers,” the president said. “We’ve all seen how humans living on open worlds come to identify with the host species, and the same is true for most contract laborers. When it comes to kids who grew up on the Drazen or Dollnick worlds where their parents are working, we’ll have a much better chance of attracting them to study on Earth if the Drazens and Dollnicks are running the programs.”

  “It might just work,” Kelly said. “I’m sure I can get you a meeting with the Drazen ambassador any time, and the Dollnick ambassador will probably agree to talk since there’s a potential profit involved.”

  “Let’s wait until after my official reception,” the president told her. “I was serious about this week being our sort-of honeymoon, but sneaking onto the station and running around behind your back would have been rude. Besides, I’m told the Grenouthians keep tabs on the movements of alien diplomats, even lowly humans.”

  “But why should the aliens agree to help?” Daniel asked. “What advantage do they gain by educating humans to compete with them? Whatever money they might earn from running extension campuses would surely be trivial compared to what they could lose if humans start manufacturing goods that can compete with their own products.”

  “We don’t think it will be much of an issue,” Hildy said. “For one thing, the advanced species view us as so backwards and they outnumber us so greatly that it would be hard for them to see us as a threat.”

  “Just look at how many of the aliens we’re familiar with spend their time terraforming and colonizing new worlds, or who introduce tech-bans on highly populated planets,” the president pointed out. “High-tech is never going to employ the majority of our population, but if we don’t get on the bus we’re liable to find ourselves under it.”

  “What?” the three embassy employees asked at the same time.

  “It’s marketing talk, from Earth,” Hildy explained. “I’ve been preparing him to make a sales pitch to the aliens. We’ve been doing our homework on how alien economies work, and we were surprised to learn that domestic production and consumption accounts for over ninety percent of their activity.”

  “But they trade all of the time,” Daniel objected. “Trade is what the tunnel network is all about, and every species has its specialties.”

  “And this is where living on a Stryx station colors the way you see things,” the president lectured the young diplomat. “The vast majority of the alien populations live on worlds, not in space. Even with orbital elevators, the cost of shipping means that it’s mainly specialty goods that get imported and exported. There are exceptions, of course, like mining worlds that bring in a lot of food as an alternative to synthesizing everything, but for the main part, settled worlds end up producing most of what they need locally. In fact, there’s little point in settling a world that doesn’t have the capacity to sustain its population.”

  “For example, we think the Frunge could open a factory on Earth manufacturing machine tools for humans,” Hildy said. “We’d ask for technology transfer in return for giving them an exclusive deal, but they don’t have to worry much about humans making merchandise that will compete with factories on their worlds. The freight cost would offset any advantage we would have on labor, and that doesn’t even take into account understanding the market, branding, supply channels, an
d customer relations.”

  “So what exactly is the goal on attracting alien industries to Earth?” Daniel asked.

  “Knowledge,” the president answered in one word. “Humans working in a Frunge factory will learn something of their techniques, and hopefully, the management will come to respect our capabilities. The Stryx gave us a great gift in opening Earth, but in at least one sense, they also saddled us with a handicap. We never went through the formative experience of developing interstellar travel on our own, yet it would be crazy for us to ignore alien technology at this point. We have to play catch-up, and that means learning what we can from the other species rather than sticking our heads in the sand.”

  “You make it sound like there are people who hold a different view,” Kelly said.

  “That’s putting it mildly. There are a number of reasons to remain on Earth, of course, but I wouldn’t be going out on a limb to say that a good proportion of the people back home are basically alien rejectionists.”

  “They don’t accept that aliens exist?” Daniel asked.

  “There are some of those as well, though they’re more of a fringe element,” the president replied. “A large number of people believe that the aliens are a threat to our natural development, whatever that means, and that anything not invented by humans on Earth is bad for us by definition.”

  “Unfortunately, these attitudes are particularly strong wherever there are vested interests who see potential alien involvement in Earth affairs as a threat to their status,” Hildy said.

  “Like in higher education,” Kelly guessed.

  “Exactly,” the president confirmed. “Hildy researched that issue as well, and it turns out that arguments about tenure and the overhead costs of school administrations have been going on for over a century. I believe that our ability to recontextualize globally will allow us to effectivize dynamically.”

  “What?” the three embassy employees asked.