The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  “The proof of it lies in this meeting today,” he reminded them. “Her career hangs in the balance, a career she clearly cherishes, yet she is willing to let you people decide what to do with her . . . in your rather unique Terran way.”

  “Thank you for that assessment, Your Highness,” Premiere Callan stated. He touched something on his pad, his gaze on the slim device resting on the clear stand, then looked to Li’eth again. “In your opinion as a V’Dan familiar with the workings of your Empire, how well will your people grasp the concept of a Gestalt pairing, how well will they understand its potential consequences, and how much do you think its existence will either lend a positive weight to such a situation, or a negative weight, should Jackie MacKenzie be sent to your people not just as your bonded partner, but as our official Ambassador?”

  “Another complex question.” Li’eth replied. Clasping his hands behind his back, he paced a little on the central floor, looking up at the markless Humans seated all around. “What you grasp in terms of science, we revere in terms of mysticism. We do understand what holy pairings are, at least to a degree. Each such pairing is revered in life and numbered among the Saints in death . . . even if they turn out to be dangerous. In this particular situation . . . the bonding will need to be evaluated by the priesthood, many of whom are gifted holy ones—psychics, in your language.

  “The official religion of the Eternal Throne is the Sh’nai faith, though others are allowed to exist. If it is confirmed by the priesthood, then our pairing would be considered the holiest of holies, and it is likely that over half the nation would look to us as living Saints, beings of reverence. On the negative side, great miracles would be expected of us, particularly as this is a time of war—again, I acknowledge even as I follow the Sh’nai faith”—this one is for you, V’kol—“that mysticism often includes a great deal of . . . hyperbole, I believe is the word? Exaggeration?”

  A glance Jackie’s way showed her nodding, confirming the words.

  “So you believe this pairing would be seen as a positive thing, a positive influence for both sides, from the V’Dan point of view?” Callan pressed.

  “It would . . . if it weren’t for the fact that all of you are markless, including Ambassador MacKenzie. We share a common phrase, your people and mine,” Li’eth added. “It will be ‘an uphill fight’ to get yourselves acknowledged as the powerful nation you are.”

  From the blank looks being shared around the Hall . . . Li’eth could see what Jackie meant by the V’Dan jungen marks—and their absence among the Terrans—being a huge problem for both sides. Not just because his own people would have to struggle hard against viewing her people as juveniles but because he could see now that most of her people did not grasp the significance of it as a potentially huge problem. Turning slowly, evaluating the blinks, the soft frowns, the confusion-quirked brows, he made up his mind.

  “. . . Actually, after giving this some thought just now, I must change my evaluation of the Ambassador’s suitability for her job,” he said. Turning to face the Premiere, who had raised one of his own brows, Li’eth put as much sincerity into his tone, his posture, as he could manage. “I believe she is quite possibly one of only a very few people on this planet who understand just how difficult it will be for your people to establish an effective embassy among my own. Not just for the fact that she will be able to consult with me directly, telepathically assisting her in near instantly navigating the . . . the maze of etiquette and protocol that awaits anyone in the Imperial Court, but because I believe she has the ability to anticipate which problems will be the biggest the Terran nation will face in dealing with the V’Dan Empire. Not in a psychic sense, but rather from her personal experiences and the intuitions she has developed in the course of her career as a Terran politician. I would rank her ability to do that job at a nine, if not a ten.”

  “We prefer the term ‘civil servant,’” Callan stated dryly. “It keeps us humble. Thank you for your re-evaluation, Your Highness. If we were to assign someone else to the position of Ambassador, would you be equally willing to work with them, introduce them to the Imperial Court, help them navigate the unfamiliar protocols you mentioned?”

  “Of course.” He didn’t let himself hesitate. “I do not think they would be the best-suited person for the task, but as I have said, we are engaged in a war we did not start, and you Terrans have things that can greatly aid us in ending it. Provided whoever you assign is capable of learning V’Dan protocols and customs, if they can keep an open mind and be forgiving, not quickly led into anger, nor easily frustrated by what they will experience of the many differences in our cultures, then I would be willing to work with whomever you assign. It is your right to select whomever you wish as your chosen representative. In a similar vein, it is my duty as a prince of the blood and an officer of the Empire to ensure that I work toward the betterment of the Empire. We must both act as we feel is best for our nations.”

  “Thank you. We are not yet prepared at this time to consider appointing Ambassadors to the other members of your multispecies Alliance, but in your consideration—and setting aside for the moment the considerations of your Gestalt bond—would Jacaranda MacKenzie be better suited as a representative to one of the other species? To the Alliance as a whole, or strictly to your people?”

  “I cannot speak for the other nations,” Li’eth cautioned the Premiere and listening Councilors. “Strictly in my own opinion, Ambassador MacKenzie could do a reasonably good job among most of the other members of the Alliance, given time to study their structure, culture, and needs. I believe she would conduct her efforts among them with the same integrity she has shown toward her position as an envoy toward myself and my junior officers. I would, however, suggest that you begin your diplomatic efforts first with the V’Dan. We will be able to explain to your people the other sentient species from a fellow Human’s perspective and can assist you in learning how to communicate and negotiate with them, things that will enhance and strengthen your own attempts at peaceful negotiations when the time comes for all of that.”

  “We are aware of the potential difficulties that could be found in dealing with non-Human species, Your Highness,” Premiere Callan replied. He touched his tablet screen again, but kept his gaze on Li’eth’s face. “It is why we chose to bypass direct communication with the Gatsugi race of the first officially recognized systems our scout ships passed through on their way to finding the heart of your Empire. Please be advised—and you may pass this along to your Empress—that while we will accept any kind offers of V’Dan instruction and assistance on understanding these other races, we intend to make up our own minds and form our own alliances and negotiations, under our own terms, once we have grasped enough of these other species to be able to open successful diplomatic negotiations directly. Your people’s assistance in understanding will be welcome, but not any attempt at control or oversight.”

  “I will be so advised,” Li’eth stated, accepting the warning, “and I will pass it along to the ears of the Empress herself.”

  “Thank you for your courtesy and consideration, Your Highness. Councilors, Fellows,” Callan stated, “please take a few moments now to access your input panels. You may make any needed readjustments to your risk-assessment scales. Your Highness, you may be seated again. Thank you also for your patience, your honesty, and your cooperation.”

  “Of course.” Returning to his seat along the edge of the railing separating the sections of tier seating from the main floor, he sat down next to Jackie and spoke quietly in his own tongue. “Did that go well?”

  “Well enough. He’s sincere in thanking you, by the way,” she added in Terranglo.

  “I figured he was. I do appreciate the courtesy,” Li’eth said.

  “Screaming throngs of excited Terran commoners and all?” she asked. “Royalty is a bit of an archaic thrill for us.”

  “And here I thought it was because of the handsomeness of my face,” he quipped back. She shrugged her
shoulders but didn’t reply verbally or mentally to his quip. They sat in silence, waiting while the occupants of the Council Hall rustled and murmured in their seats.

  “. . . Imperial Prince Kah’raman Li’eth V’Daania,” Premiere Callan stated after a few more minutes. “This Council has collated another set of questions for you.”

  Curious, Li’eth pushed to his feet, facing the Premiere. “Yes, Premiere?”

  “Please be advised that these questions will involve inquiries of a personal nature. This questioning is undertaken to seek a level of understanding and comprehension, and is not being asked out of mere curiosity.”

  “I understand,” Li’eth allowed, wondering what was about to be asked.

  “What, in your evaluation of the situation, would happen to you if we sent you back to your world with Jacaranda MacKenzie at your side?”

  That made him hesitate. “If she can be proved my holy partner, the odds of her being accepted as your Ambassador are very high, and this would be—”

  “I apologize for interrupting, Your Highness,” Callan said, “but allow me to clarify this question. What would happen to you? What consequences might there be for you to endure, upon your people finding out you are one of a holy pair—confirmed or not confirmed.”

  “. . . As I said, I would be revered as a living Saint, as would she,” he repeated. “If confirmed, it would be a deep advantage for both of our peoples.”

  “And if it is not confirmed? Or rather, not believed, though we have confirmed it ourselves?” Callan prompted. “What would the consequences be for you?”

  Wary, Li’eth narrowed his gaze in thought. “Why do you ask this line of questioning?”

  Secondaire Pong stood and approached the podium. Callan stepped to the side to allow him to speak, consulting his datapad as he did so.

  “Fellow Ston Barushkev of Tblisi, Georgia Province, has submitted a very salient point: If there are severe negative consequences awaiting you, even as a mere possibility, these must be addressed by preparations, counterarguments, and whatever else it takes in advance to ensure that your mother, the Empress of V’Dan, is not rendered upset by such an outcome,” Pong recited.

  “We have recordings of you interacting with your mother in various conversations, and we can only guess what life in the Imperial Court must be like,” Callan added, his tone remarkably gentle for all his delivery was steady. “But as you are her son, at some tipping point on the scales of what she will or will not tolerate, she will react from her position as your mother as well as her position as your leader.”

  Pong nodded. “We would all like to head off potential trouble in advance, as the Fellow Barushkev recommends.”

  “That . . . is a rather wise and well-considered query, then,” Li’eth acknowledged. He looked over the sea of faces in the white-edged seats. One of the more swarthy gentlemen seated about midway up, toward the right side of the section, raised his hand in a little wave. Li’eth dipped his head slightly in return acknowledgment. “At worst, Fellow Barushkev, Fellowship members, Councilors . . . there would be public censure because of the Ambassador’s appearance. My judgment would be questioned, with people believing I have been swayed by what could be considered inappropriate personal feelings.

  “Ironically . . . in order to defeat or avoid such things, I would be forced to be bluntly honest with my people,” he added, then quickly held up a hand in caution. “This is not to say that we lie as a daily activity, but it is to say that there are protocols that are expected to be followed. Things that may be held back or rephrased for discretion’s sake. There are rituals of courtesy and discretion required in the Imperial Court.”

  He hesitated a moment, debating whether or not to explain more at that moment, then returned to the original topic of the question.

  “However, the consequences you speak of would pale in comparison to the losses my people would continue to suffer in battle without your aid—technically, I could get into equal trouble for admitting that much to your people, that the Empire isn’t perfectly capable of recovering from our constant losses,” Li’eth stated dryly. “But as they have already had a solid taste of your communications abilities, I doubt that any such consequences would be too severe. What you bring in potential, even just by that much, is worth a little bit of pride-denting honesty.

  “You have, after all, treated myself and my fellow officers with great honor and courtesy. That will also weigh strongly in my mother’s mind, as a mother as well as a sovereign. Whether or not she harbors doubt as to the suitability of Ambassador MacKenzie to stay at my side, she will be grateful for that much and will welcome me home. Our priesthood would certainly benefit from Jacaranda MacKenzie’s teachings even if she does not serve as your Ambassador.

  “I would, however, advise that a suitable instructor in Terran psychic gifts be included in your embassy efforts,” he added, changing the subject slightly. This was something he had considered, watching Jackie bounce back and forth between escorting the V’Dan around the United Planets and spending hours of her free time teaching other telepaths and talented translators how to speak V’Dan. “This should be someone other than Ambassador MacKenzie. That would not only ease the Ambassador’s workload in establishing diplomatic relations, but it will help to explain to my people that this is a true matter and not something conjured by inaccurate accusations of any undue influences.

  “As your own charts would put it,” he finished, pointing up at the giant screens overhead, “the probability that the question of undue influence would come up is high, around an eight or nine, but the severity of the risk involved is low, around a three at most, in regard to myself. The severity of the risk to the Ambassador would be higher, probably a five, possibly a seven on your ten-point scale, but then you do have the option to appoint a different Ambassador if that becomes the case.”

  “It is not necessary to assess a risk to the Ambassador. That was already covered,” Premiere Callan dismissed.

  Li’eth blinked, mind racing back over what he had heard and seen so far. “You . . . what? When?”

  “It was covered earlier in the assessment of whether or not she could do her job,” the Premiere clarified.

  “No, that was covering whether or not she could do her job. This is a line of questioning about personal risk to Jacaranda MacKenzie, the same as you have just asked about my own personal risks,” he clarified.

  “We appreciate your concern for Miss MacKenzie, Your Highness. We understand that the Gestalt situation prompts you to consider risks to her as well as risks to yourself. We, too, have considered these things. Thank you for answering our questions, Your Highness.” Callan eyed him a long moment while Li’eth tried to figure out how to voice his concerns. Finally, the Premiere lifted his hand slightly. “You may be seated.”

  Returning to his chair, Li’eth kept his outward expression neutral but let his thoughts race and tumble. What he wanted to do was to reach out to her, to ask Jackie a few questions. He was so deep in thought that he missed the next few bits of the discussion until the Premiere’s words finally registered.

  “. . . so it is therefore clear we need to move on to a discussion of whether or not Jacaranda MacKenzie would be suitable in the position of translator, versus having no official capacity. In the course of her work as—”

  “Wait!” Pushing to his feet, Li’eth stood and held up his hand. “Wait. You have forgotten something!”

  There was a rustle around the room. Premiere Callan frowned at him, one among many giving the prince a hard look. Even Jackie quirked her brows, though she remained silent, letting the Premiere speak for all of them. “Your Highness . . . this is not your culture, and it is certainly not your government. You have no grounds for an objection.”

  “The outcome of this meeting is my government’s concern,” Li’eth stated. “Are you trying to dismiss the suitability of Jacaranda MacKenzie as an Ambassador without consulting and questioning the single most important person in this deb
ate? That is my objection if you are.”

  Callan pulled back a little, blinking. He glanced around the room, then back at the prince. “I’m sorry, Highness . . . but I really don’t see why I should be questioned in this matter. My confidence and risk assessment have already been tabulated . . .” He broke off when Li’eth slashed his hand between them, shaking his head. “Then I do not understand your point, Your Highness. Did you mean you? We have already asked you the most important questions in this matter.”

  “Not me, not you, and not them,” Li’eth said, sweeping his arm at the Councilors in their seats. “We are discussing the suitability of a specific person for a specific job. A job that will take that person away from this planet by hundreds of light-years, expose them to unknown dangers, expose them to unknown risks, and expose them to unknown potentials. Yet you have not asked her, in specific, any questions. You are forgetting that this isn’t just a job you can shove anyone into interchangeably, like . . . like identical cogs from a supply drawer!”

  “Your Highness, your Gestalt—” Callan asserted

  “This isn’t about the sh’keth Gestalt!” Li’eth snapped, slashing his hand again, cutting him off.

  Jackie blinked, blushed, and bit her bottom lip, flustered and yet amused by his choice of swearword. Dragging in a deep breath, Li’eth straightened his uniform jacket with a tug. Shoulders level, he stared down the Premiere.

  “This, sir, is about a person. You are treating her like a thing, and she is a person. Everything you decide here today will affect the rest of her life—does she not have a say? I don’t know about your Empire, but in mine, we did away with slavery many centuries ago!”

  Callan’s jaw dropped at the implied accusation. He wasn’t the only one. A burst of noise spread through the room as dozens, even scores, of Councilors and Fellowship members all tried to voice their opinions. The shared light purples of concentration had shifted to a sort of shocked and somewhat offended lemon brown. Shutting his mouth, the Premiere let the noise surge for a few moments, then pressed a button on his tablet. A loud cracking noise resounded three times through the chamber, then another trio of times, quieting the hubbub.