by R. E. Weber
The usual warm welcome thought Ruby.
‘I would remind all in attendance that security level two protocols are in force. Now, if there are no objections, I will ask that the H’th’hka council addresses the conference.’
The conference remained quiet while each of the delegations communicated their approval via their companions. Then the platform containing the H’th’hka council glided forward and positioned itself at the centre of the sphere. A shimmering, translucent image of a graceful insect-like creature appeared several metres above the platform. Then a series of clicks and squeaks began echoing around the room, with a translation following moments behind. Ruby knew all too well that the vocal cords of the H’th’hka were incapable of replicating the speech patterns used for Affinity Common, even though they understood the spoken language.
‘If it pleases all gathered representatives,’ began the translation, ‘may I thank Vice Governor Manorlak for arranging this conference at such short notice.’
Ruby glanced at the vice governor, who continued to stare forward with no apparent reaction. At least the H’th’hka had remembered their manners, even if the Polisians hadn’t. Then she caught Tan Shah looking sternly back at her, almost as if she had read her mind. Not wanting to incur her anger, Ruby turned back to the H’th’hka representative and zoomed in so she could observe more closely.
‘As I am sure you are all aware, our homeworld has suffered greatly since the attack, which befell us a little over one Nayan ago.’
Had it really been a whole standard year since the attack? The terrifying images of the asteroid impact had been burned into Ruby’s mind, and were as fresh and sickening as they had been at the time. They still occupied her nightmares, even now.
‘However, with the assistance of the Affinity,’ continued the representative, ‘we have largely rebuilt our infrastructure to its former capacity.’
‘I am gratified to hear this,’ replied Vice Governor Manorlak.
‘Enough of this,’ interrupted another H’th’hka voice. ‘We are…’
Suddenly, the translation cut off midsentence while the representatives clicked angrily at each other; Ruby knew that any delegation could enable privacy to turn off all companion translations within a conference. Then the other voice continued.
‘Our hives are angry,’ it said, its pitch artificially raised to suggest anger, ‘… that the culprits of this atrocity have yet to be brought to justice. And where is the Affinity Governor? I would have expected his presence for such an important meeting, rather than just his underling.’
Turning her gaze to the vice governor and her group, she could see their eyes rolling in silent conversation. Then the vice governor spoke.
‘Governor Tallus is currently off world on a matter of great importance. However, he has full confidence in my abilities to negotiate on behalf of the Affinity council. And as regards the attack on your homeworld, all possible resources have been dedicated to tracking down those responsible. However, they….’
‘And yet, you still allow the unchecked movement of all space vessels through the quantum portal network. Had adequate security protocols been implemented, the Metah Dah would never have evaded capture for so long.’
‘As you know, the Affinity council, in agreement with all member worlds, agreed that the network would not be monitored or secured in any way. The free movement of all was deemed an inalienable right of all Affinity member species. And since we did not construct the portal network ourselves, we cannot be considered its owners.’
‘But the Metah Dah are not in the Affinity. They continue to commit atrocity after atrocity while you stand idly by and allow them to terrorise innocent worlds.’
For a moment, Tan Shah’s eyes flicked from side to side. Then her image appeared in the centre of the conference sphere.
‘May your servant address you?’ warbled Tan Shah, her voice strangely calm and musical – a tactic that she had used many times to calm the escalating anger of a conference.
‘Proceed,’ clicked the H’th’hka representative.
‘When you suffer, we suffer,’ she replied softly.
‘Your words are kind, yet empty,’ replied the representative. ‘You speak of sympathy and understanding, yet your actions demonstrate apathy and indifference. Since we joined the Affinity, our world has suffered, not prospered. Our quiet, peaceful planet was brought to the brink of collapse by your inaction. You claim that the Affinity is built on the principles of co-operation and security, but all we hear are empty words and pointless gestures.’
For several seconds, the group clicked and squeaked among themselves, with the translation turned off. Ruby focused on the group and listened intently with the audio enhanced. But even though their clicks were loud enough, they spoke way too quickly for her to decipher all but the simplest of words. Then the translation continued.
‘It is with great sadness that we must announce our intention to withdraw from the Affinity.’
From around the room, there was an audible gasp, followed by muted conversation. Then Tan Shah’s image re-appeared.
‘Before we act upon your request, may I ask that you undertake a period of reflection,’ she replied. ‘During this period, we will absolve you of all responsibilities to the Affinity. In return, we will deploy a new advanced star shield network around your homeworld, replacing all the drones that are susceptible to compromise. This network of platforms will continue to defend your world against attack. Once the agreed period of reflection has expired, we will, should you still wish to withdraw from the Affinity, remove the star shield network and cease all communication with your world. Would this be acceptable to you?’
Ruby stared, open-mouthed, her heart thumping hard in her chest, scarcely able to believe what she had heard. The H’th’hka were going to withdraw from the Affinity. Her suspicions, which had worried her since she had learnt of the conference, had come true. For the first time in its thousand-year history, a member species had announced its intention to leave the protection of the Affinity.
Horrified, Ruby turned to look at Tan Shah, whose face remained impassive as she stared forward in silence.
‘Tan Shah?’ said Ruby privately through her companion.
‘Do not speak to me now, Ruby.’
‘Why not?’ said Ruby angrily? ‘The H’th’hka are going to leave the Affinity. They can’t do it. What if they withdraw completely and the star shield network is removed? If they get attacked again, they’ll be defenceless. They’ll be destroyed.’
‘The H’th’hka must choose their own path. Free will is at the core of…’
‘Bullshit,’ snapped Ruby angrily, astonished at her use of language. ‘What use is free will if they’re all dead?’
‘Remain calm, Ruby, as instructed.’
‘But there must be something we can do,’ said Ruby, straining to keep her anger in check.
‘I have offered them all I am permitted to.’
‘So you’re just going to let them leave?’
‘If that is their decision, then yes. I cannot…’
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Ruby. ‘Because you’re not permitted to offer them anything else, you’re going to let them leave. What next? What about the next species to get attacked, and the next? Are you going to let them leave too? Are you going to let them all leave ‘til there’s no Affinity? That’s insanity.’
‘It is their will,’ replied Tan Shah, her soothing voice calming Ruby’s anger a little.
Ruby stared at the H’th’hka delegation, who continued to talk among themselves. Then she closed her eyes. Why am I here? What use is being a paltoor if I can’t do anything? This is all wrong. They’re powerless, all of them. The H’th’hka are right. The Affinity council is weak and useless. They hide behind free will because they don’t want to take the responsibility for failure. How many other worlds are going to suffer because of their weakness? How many are going to die because of what happens here, today? I have to do somethi
ng. I have to speak. I must be allowed to speak.
The startling clarity of Ruby’s thoughts surprised her, but she knew exactly what to do next. With her mind unusually calm, she opened her companion conference menu and selected Request platform control. A virtual control panel appeared in front of her.
‘Ruby, you are not permitted to control the conference platforms.’
But Ruby didn’t reply. Instead, she placed her hands delicately on the controls and began sliding them around the virtual panel. Slowly, the platform started drifting towards the centre of the conference sphere. Once Ruby had positioned the platform directly in front of the H’th’hka delegation, she nudged it forward until the platform edges were touching. Then she locked it in position and looked at the delegation, who were standing about three metres away from her. Tan Shah looked back at Ruby, but made no attempt to restrain her.
Ruby stepped onto the H’th’hka delegation’s platform, knelt down, put her hands on the floor and lowered her head to the ground. Mustering all her concentration, she drew as much breath as she could into her lungs, before exhaling and flexing her throat muscles, clicking and squeaking noises that had never passed the lips of any human. Then she raised her head and stared up at the insect-like creatures that were towering over her.
For what seemed like an eternity, the H’th’hka stared silently at Ruby. Then one of them twisted its sinewy neck and lowered its head to the ground. It tapped the back of its rounded skull twice on the hard metallic surface of the platform, before raising its head and drawing itself back up to its full height. For a few seconds, its eyes flickered while it conferred with its colleagues. Then the translation resumed.
‘You honour us, Rubina Chaudhry. We accept the Affinity’s offer of a period of reflection.’
Ruby dipped her head, then looked back at the delegation. ‘Your servant,’ she replied simply before stepping back onto her own platform and guiding it back to its berth at the edge of the walkway.
The H’th’hka delegation clicked privately to each other for several seconds. Then they spoke again.
‘During the period of reflection, we expect radical steps to be taken to bring those responsible for the atrocity on our homeworld to justice. The period of reflection should last no more than seventy ch’ha, after which we expect to see the capture and interrogation of an enemy operative. This is non-negotiable.’
The vice governor and her group communicated privately to each other, before answering.
‘The Affinity council accepts this condition.’
‘Good. Then I believe our business here is concluded. My staff will attend to the details of the agreement while I take my leave of you,’ replied the first H’th’hka representative.
‘I am gratified that an agreement has been reached in this matter,’ replied the vice governor.
‘As am I,’ clicked the representative.
Without another word, the H’th’hka delegation guided their platform back to the circular walkway, turned and walked away down the corridor behind them. Then the lights brightened, and each of the gathered delegations began to filter out of the conference sphere.
Paltoor Tan Shah turned to Ruby, her eyes clearly indicating irritation. ‘We will speak in private regarding your conduct in this negotiation.’
Ruby looked back at Tan Shah, the smile of satisfaction at the success of the negotiations rapidly disappearing from her face. Then she swallowed and turned to follow Tan Shah, who had already left the platform and was walking towards the conference exit. Ruby knew that she was in trouble. Big trouble.
*
‘Since it seems that you have forgotten the protocols for conference negotiation, let me remind you,’ said Tan Shah sternly as she glared at Ruby across the small, empty room. Was it a room or an interrogation suite?
But in the short and silent trip they had taken from the conference sphere on the edge of the city, to the Paltoor Council headquarters, Ruby had taken it upon herself to calmly re-assess the conversations that had taken place in the conference. And more than ever, she had been certain that she had saved the negotiations, or at the very least bought the Affinity enough time to save the H’th’hka from withdrawal. And that thought made Ruby resolute that although she had perhaps broken protocol, what she had done had been for the greater good. Her mind had not changed. The Affinity council had been weak and powerless.
Ruby took a deep breath.
‘In order to pre-empt you, I know…’
‘Do not interrupt, Ruby.’
Ruby gritted her teeth, desperate to carry on defending herself, but realising that it was futile.
‘Firstly,’ continued Tan Shah, ‘you addressed the conference without my express permission or in response to a direct question. Secondly, you took control of a conference platform, using it to approach the H’th’hka delegation. Thirdly, you intruded on the sovereign territory of a member species in order to make an unauthorised plea to…’
‘What? What are you talking about, sovereign territory? I…’
‘As I have explained to you previously, during a conference, a delegation’s platform is deemed that species’ sovereign territory and can only be traversed under the direct invitation of the delegation. You received no such invitation and have therefore made a serious transgression. It is fortunate that the H’th’hka have not raised a formal complaint against you, otherwise we would need to take disciplinary action.’
Ruby fixed Tan Shah with a hard stare, the anger welling within her.
‘Have you finished?’ she growled.
‘I have not,’ replied Tan Shah. ‘You…’
‘I will speak, now,’ interrupted Ruby.
Tan Shah blinked and looked back at Ruby, silently.
‘You know what I did was the right thing to do. Yes, I broke protocol. Yes, I intruded on their sovereign territory. But I saved the negotiations – we both know that.’
‘That is a matter for conjecture,’ replied Tan Shah.
‘That is a matter of fact,’ said Ruby firmly. ‘I have sat idly by, watching and learning. I’ve followed protocol, and I’ve learnt a lot from you. But the negotiations were about to stall. The H’th’hka were going to leave the Affinity, and nobody seemed capable of stopping them.’
‘You did not allow the time required for the H’th’hka to accept our offer. They were considering this. You interrupted this process.’
‘You know they were angry and I don’t blame them one bit. Their world was devastated and they were defenceless. They were going to leave the Affinity. You know it and I know it.’
Tan Shah remained silent for a moment to consider her response. Finally, she replied, changing the subject – an acknowledgement that Ruby had perhaps been correct.
‘Can you explain your gesture to the H’th’hka delegation? I have searched the paltoor database for references, but I have been unable to locate any.’
Ruby took a deep breath to calm herself.
‘As you once said to me, I am your eyes and ears. This does not stop outside conference. I watch and I learn, all the time. I observe all species, carefully. The gesture is an analogy. In formal situations, the H’th’hka walk in single file. It is a tradition stemming from their pre-technological civilisation when they were a war-like, tribal race. When moving camps, they would walk in each other’s footsteps to hide their true numbers from neighbouring tribes. It would then be the job of the tribal member at the back of the group to stop every so often and look between its legs to ensure that only one trail of footprints was being left. It would lower its head to the ground while doing this.’
‘I am afraid that I still do not understand the analogy.’
‘Footsteps, Tan Shah. My head to the ground suggests I’m looking at our footsteps to make sure they’re all together. The analogy is that if you walk in someone else’s footsteps, you’re taking the same path through life. If you walk where they walk, you feel what they feel. So what I’m saying is, I… I mean…’ As she tried to con
tinue, she felt herself choking with emotion, and she stopped to compose herself.
‘I believe I understand now,’ continued Tan Shah. ‘You were indicating to them that you have felt the emotional pain that they feel. The pain of the loss of your own family.’
‘Yes,’ said Ruby as she swallowed hard, trying to force back the wave of grief that had overtaken her. ‘And I…I said to them…’ Again, she could not continue.
‘You informed them that you and they were joined in pain,’ continued Tan Shah.
Ruby cleared her throat and wiped away her tears. ‘Well I tried to say it,’ she sniffed. ‘But I’m not sure whether it translated as that.’
‘Your approximation was accurate. Reproduction of a language such as theirs is extremely difficult as most species’ vocal cords do not naturally form the correct sounds. That you were understood by the H’th’hka and the translation matrix is an impressive achievement.’
Ruby looked up at Tan Shah, surprised. It had been a compliment – probably her first ever.
Ruby pulled out a tissue, wiped her eyes and then blew her nose.
‘So what’s going to happen to me? I mean, I broke protocol, didn’t I?’
‘I have yet to decide how best to deal with your behaviour.’
‘I don’t know if I can do this anymore,’ Ruby sighed. ‘I can’t sit back and say nothing when I see things going wrong. I feel useless.’
‘You must learn to govern your human emotions, Ruby. They will inhibit your ability to carry out your duties effectively.’
‘Inhibit?’ said Ruby, her voice raised in anger once more. ‘Me and my human emotions saved the negotiations. Had I not understood their pain, you would have lost an Affinity member today. I thought you understood me, I thought…’
‘Ruby, I am going to recommend that you take a leave of absence to consider your position as a paltoor in waiting.’