The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  When the conversations died down, Premiere Callan spoke. “. . . Speak your words more carefully, Prince. You are a guest in these Halls.”

  “Even if I did not like her, sir, I would still advocate for her right to voice her own opinion,” Li’eth asserted sternly. “You are asking someone to go so far away from this world and her people, her friends and family, she will be isolated in an alien culture, even if she technically goes with a staff to help her. She will be subjected to heavy social pressures and difficult decisions under foreign circumstances, with all the burden of her position resting solely upon her and no other.

  “Even if she served under the most friendly and welcoming of circumstances, I know that you know that no situation is ever so perfect all of the time,” Li’eth told the head of the Terran government. The others in the Hall stayed silent, listening to his words. “You can talk about trust in her, and risk assessments of her all you like, but the one person who has the strongest ability to assess whether or not she can do the job, and whether or not she wants that job, is the woman herself.

  “Except, you are not actually questioning her, are you?” he pointed out. Literally pointing, thrusting his finger in Jackie’s direction. “She is the one who must carry out the tasks you would assign to her. She is the one who must bear the weight of the consequences for all her decisions, all of her responsibilities, whether that’s as an Ambassador, as a translator, or as a chair-warmer, sitting on the outskirts of her life. Not your life. Hers. When are you going to ask her what she thinks of what she will have to do? You do not have to live with the weights, the responsibilities, or the consequences of this decision, but she does.

  “Jacaranda MacKenzie is not a child to be told by her parents what she has to do, with no say in any of the process. Jacaranda MacKenzie is an adult, and this is about her life. Not mine, and not yours. Ask her what she thinks she can do. But ask her, not just yourselves.” He moved toward his seat, then turned to face the Premiere again. “. . . I apologize for interrupting your decision-making process, but since you all seem to value treating the people around you ethically, the people whose lives your decisions will affect . . . I thought it pertinent to remind you that this is Miss MacKenzie’s life that is being affected, and that she should be consulted, too.

  “After all, isn’t that why you have the Fellowship sitting in on each of these conferences?” He flicked his fingers up behind him, at the white-edged seats of the Fellowship tiers, whose spiritual colors were bleeding back toward lavender again. “Average citizens whose lives will be affected by your decisions, whom you have here as guests and witnesses, to be able to give the answers you seek, as well as to ask questions of their own? Or was I misinformed on how your political process works?”

  Flicking his gaze around the room, gauging the looks of the faces of not only the Councilors but the Fellowship, Callan dipped his head. Acknowledging Li’eth’s point. The general attitude in the Hall was one of intense concentration. Some of the Fellows were nodding, and some of the Councilors. Others had thoughtful looks . . . but none protested his words.

  “You are quite right, Your Highness. That is how our system works,” the Premiere replied. “I will admit I thought her feelings on the matter were already on record, and so did not need to be discussed in this session.”

  “Circumstances change, Premiere,” Li’eth countered. “Sometimes, so do feelings. I may now be telepathically linked to this woman, but even I would not presume to know what she is thinking. It is wise to . . . what is the phrase in Terranglo . . . assess frequently?”

  “Touch base?” Callan offered.

  “That one will do,” Li’eth said. It was some sort of metaphor for a sports game he didn’t understand, but it would do. “It is wise to ‘touch base’ frequently, just in case more than mere circumstance has changed.”

  Secondaire Pong smoothed down the front of his white overrobe and the deep brown suit underneath. Stepping close to his superior, he murmured in the Premiere’s ear. Callan nodded. “. . . Thank you for the reminder, Your Highness. Please be seated. We will, in the interest of expediency, forgo the discussion of simply sending Jacaranda MacKenzie along on the expedition to return you to your people, with no discernible role other than that of being your Gestalt partner. We will not inflict a separation upon the two of you, so her mere inclusion does not matter. It will happen regardless of the outcome of this meeting.”

  Only somewhat content with that, Li’eth seated himself. He waited impatiently for the Premiere to call Jackie up for questioning.

  “We will now discuss this Council’s assessment of the risks versus rewards of sending Miss MacKenzie to V’Dan as a linguistics expert, working in an official capacity as the embassy’s translator.”

  Tensing to rise, Li’eth was stopped by a touch from Jackie. When he glanced her way, she shook her head and patted his thigh. Risking the pain of his hangover, he clenched his jaw against the ache in his skull. (I will ensure that they listen to what you want. It’s your life, not theirs.)

  (I know.)

  “I object.”

  Both of them craned their necks, looking up and behind them. The speaker was a woman with very dark skin, grayish-white hair, and the lines of age seaming her face. Her dress under the short white vest was a mild shade of pale gray, matching the silver cane she leaned upon as she stood.

  “Fellow . . . Agnathia Ecklestone,” Callan acknowledged, checking his tablet briefly. “It is the right of the Fellowship to lodge an objection. What is your objection?”

  “I want to hear what the girl has to say,” Ecklestone stated.

  “We will get to that after the discussion of our assessment of her ability to be a translator.”

  “Young man,” Ecklestone called out, one of her hands going to her hip, which she cocked somewhat to the side, “I know you were born with a brain that functions. Everyone here knows that Miss MacKenzie speaks more languages than anyone else outside of a computer. There is no need for debate on her record as a translator, a linguistics facilitator, a cultural advisor—the girl lived and breathed it for years! That point is moot because we all know she’d be damn fantastic at it.

  “Since we all know all of this, if she isn’t gonna be the Ambassador,” Ecklestone stated, “then she’ll automatically be the chief translator, end of debate. So, rather than wasting our time with mind-numbing nonsense with a foregone, obvious conclusion, I want to hear her evaluation of which job she wants to do. That’s the only thing that matters at this point. Am I right, or am I right?”

  She turned to either side, looking at the other Fellows. Many of the nearest nodded. A number of Councilors nodded, too. Facing Callan again—who briefly looked like he was trying to swallow something that threatened to stick on the way down—the elderly woman braced both hands on the top of her silver cane, drawing herself up in a more formal posture.

  “I therefore call for a vote of the Fellowship on this point of objection,” the old woman stated. “As is my right as a member of this session of the Fellowship. The vote, specifically, is to skip the damned translator nonsense because we all know she’d be the best at that job, and to go straight to asking the girl what she wants to do, and what she thinks she’s capable of doing. Because she could be even better as our official diplomatic representative, if she feels up to it. The rest of this is all procedural nonsense.”

  “Very well,” Callan stated, recovering some of his poise. “Let the record show that Fellow Agnathia Ecklestone has called for a vote from among the Fellowship on the following points: skipping the risk assessment of Jacaranda MacKenzie as being suitable for employment as an embassy translator; asking Miss MacKenzie directly if she wishes to be an Ambassador to the V’Dan people and their allies; asking Miss MacKenzie if she would rather be a translator in the embassy to the V’Dan people and their allies; and asking Miss MacKenzie her personal risk and evaluation assessments as to whether she thinks she is capable of handling either or both jobs. Are there any ob
jections among the Council?”

  The screens overhead were divided; some showed the list of points the Premiere had outlined, and some showed panoramas of the Councilors. None of them raised their hands.

  “. . . Let the record show that there is no Council objection to the Fellowship’s proposal. Fellows of the Terran United Planets, please input your votes on the steps that have been outlined by Fellow Ecklestone’s proposal. Councilors, please be patient while the Fellowship votes.”

  Numbers appeared beside each bullet point as each white-vested Terran typed in what they thought. It was a strange way of conducting a government, but when the numbers finished moving, Li’eth relaxed in his seat. Over 95 percent of the Fellowship voted to skip the discussion of her qualifications as a translator. Over 90 percent wanted to ask Jackie if she wanted to be an Ambassador. Just under 60 percent wanted to ask her if she would rather be a translator. And over 95 percent wanted to hear her own assessment of her situation.

  “. . . With no objections from the Council, the Fellowship’s motions have passed. Jacaranda MacKenzie, the Council and the Fellowship have some questions for you.”

  Jackie rose obediently. “Of course, sir.” Like Li’eth, she clasped her hands in front of her once she stopped in front of Callan on his little podium stand. “I will not waste the Council’s time on any need for long-winded explanatory speeches. I know the questions being asked of me, and would therefore simply answer them, with your permission.”

  “Permission granted,” Callan allowed.

  “Thank you. On the point of whether or not I want to be an ambassador . . . I would like to be our official Ambassador to the V’Dan. I am beginning to understand them, and believe I can navigate the differences in our cultures in ways that will benefit my constituency,” she said, parting her hands briefly to gesture at the Councilors, the Fellowship, the world beyond. Reclasping her hands, she left them lightly laced in front of her. “More than that, I promise I will keep in mind that the decisions I might make will have an impact not only on the United Planets . . . but on the V’Dan, their allies in their Alliance, and their enemies, as people who will also be affected by the decisions I may make on my own constituency’s behalf.

  “As to whether or not I myself believe I can handle the job of being an Ambassador . . . I believe I can. On a scale of zero to ten . . . an eight. I know it will not be easy bridging the gap between Terran and V’Dan cultural viewpoints and needs, and so I acknowledge the reality that it will not be easy, establishing and holding an embassy. There are also many unknown variables, things none of us will know or grasp until we have opened that embassy. Things which, in my honesty, I cannot claim any higher assessment number for until those potential problems are known.” She glanced back at Li’eth for a moment, then lifted her gaze to the Fellowship. Fellow Ecklestone had reseated herself, hands still braced on the top of her cane. “And I will concur with Fellow Ecklestone’s assessment of my capabilities as a translator. I am good at it. If that is the position I am assigned, I will do my best in that job.

  “However, it is my best estimation that I cannot do both jobs at the same time.” That caused a stir. She held up her hand, turning to look at the Council. “There will come a point where we can spend days and weeks and months and years teaching the V’Dan how to speak Terranglo and teaching Terrans how to speak V’Dan. At the moment, we do not have that luxury. Each language transfer takes anywhere from two to five hours, depending upon their mental discipline, their willingness to undergo the procedure, and their personal affinity for such things, gifted or otherwise.

  “The position of Ambassador will also require many hours each day of getting to know the V’Dan culture firsthand, getting to know various people, making contacts in the government, business, and private sectors, fielding and asking questions, drafting negotiations and treaties, and more. Each will be a full-time job,” she pointed out. “I may be one half of a Gestalt pairing, but His Highness will have his own concerns to handle once we reach his homeworld. He is not a member of the Terran United Planets and cannot serve in any capacity as a representative for us. He is also a strong telepath, but he has no training in language transference. He cannot take up any of the burdens of my position from me.

  “I must therefore request that I be assigned to one position or the other. Not to both . . . though if I do remain your Ambassador, I will try to schedule some time for more transfers to help speed up the rate at which both sides can begin to understand each other better.”

  “Thank you. Next question. What is your assessment of your ability to maintain a separation of your personal feelings versus your professional needs?” Secondaire Pong asked her. “You are in a Gestalt with a foreign national, yet you are being asked to represent Terran interests first and foremost.”

  “I am aware of the potential disparity, Secondaire Pong,” Jackie admitted. “If I am to be the Ambassador, I would like a suitable assistant assigned to me so that I can train him or her to question my choices as well as assist me in my office . . . and if needed, to step up to take over the ambassadorship, should I for any reason need to step down. I am aware that I must constantly question my motives in this task, particularly as the Gestalt advances.

  “However, there are advantages to being the Ambassador while in a Gestalt with a high-ranked V’Dan,” she continued. “If there are problems, concerns, questions, even cultural clashes, I know exactly whom to ask for clarification. Whom to go to, in order to smooth over any problems. I don’t have to wait for a cultural liaison to be brought in to study the matter before making a recommendation. In turn, His Highness would also have a similar advantage in coming directly and swiftly to me, to the benefit of his own people. Ideally, I would like to recommend to the Empress that he be appointed to the position of cultural liaison and advisor to the Terran embassy. The fact that we are in a Gestalt can become a powerful asset for both sides.”

  “Duly noted,” Premiere Callan stated. “We will take that into consideration as well.”

  Li’eth noticed something in her replies. Jackie was using several of the points from their own Oath of Service in her speech. How clever of her, using their own litany of good habits against them. Is this a deliberate ploy? Is it how she truly feels? Or is it simply a pattern of the by-now-ingrained habit of constantly having to swear to do such things?

  “I have a further request to make, predicated on that assessment, that I cannot do both jobs effectively at the same time,” Jackie stated, turning to address the Terrans seated around the hall. “I would like to request at least one other polyglot telepath be assigned to the embassy. If not two. Particularly two more, if I am to remain your envoy. Understanding begins with communication. If need be—if you have another candidate already in mind for the position of Ambassador—I will be happy to serve as a translator. But . . . I believe my experiences, starting from the very first moment of Terran-V’Dan contact, make me well suited for the role of Ambassador at this point in time.”

  “Do you have anything beyond your opinion to support this assertion?” Secondaire Pong asked her. Dryly, he added, “As Fellow Ecklestone rightly pointed out, you are the best translator we could send.”

  Jackie nodded, knowing the Secondaire’s place was to play devil’s advocate at times like this. “Yes, I have additional points to support my post as Ambassador, rather than just a translator. My years of service in the military will help me to better understand the V’Dan war efforts, which in turn will help me and whatever military liaison is appointed to my embassy determine what we can actually supply in the line of what they actually need. My time as a translator and cultural liaison will help the embassy staff to learn how to navigate V’Dan culture. My experiences as a Councilor will allow me to gauge the appropriate needs of each side and the legalities of what is being offered versus what is being asked during treaty, business, and other negotiations.

  “There are at least five other telepathic polyglots who can take my place as a psychic
ally assisted translator. And circumstances may change once their current war is over,” Jackie allowed, “changing what will be needed. But for right now, in terms of both civilian and military experience, I am the best candidate for the position of Ambassador.

  “In short, Councilors, you would be hard-pressed to find someone with the same useful variety of skills and experiences that I myself have. My background provides an almost unique, rich, and diverse level of expertise, which I can bring to the job. At least, until I can get an assistant and an embassy staff trained to the point where they can take over, should that ever become a necessity. I know I am not irreplaceable,” she allowed with a simple, expressive shrug, “but I am the best option you have at this time . . . and I do not think the V’Dan and their allies can afford to wait for a different set of circumstances that are more favorable for sending someone else in my place.”

  “Thank you, Miss MacKenzie. Are there any other questions for her at this time?” Callan asked. A few hands lifted a little bit, then subsided, but that was all. No one raised a hand strongly. Assessing the Hall, the Premiere nodded. “. . . Very well, then. We will now call for a vote on the final decision as to whether Jacaranda MacKenzie should remain Ambassador of the Terran United Planets to the V’Dan Empire. This is a simple yes/no/abstain vote. To aid you in your considerations, the screens will display a recap of the risk-assessment evaluations, though you are of course free to vote however you determine we should best proceed.”

  Li’eth turned his attention to the Secondaire, who was apparently controlling what subjects were put up on the big screen. Secondaire Pong had reseated himself at a spot behind the podium and was glancing up intermittently at the screens overhead. The prince realized how odd that was, compared to the V’Dan way. Back home, no one on the Queen’s Council—a much smaller body of advisors than the hundreds of adults gathered in this hall—would have lifted a finger to perform such menial tasks. They all had staff for such matters. It was yet another point of cultural difference, one he made a mental note to advise the upcoming Ambassador about.