by S MacDonald
‘Agreed, and with you entirely on that score,’ Simon assured him. ‘But there is one exception.’ He looked pointedly at Davie, who picked up his cue.
‘Arlit,’ he said. ‘Out of all the people on that planet, he’s the best equipped to cope with coming aboard – and he wants to, too, very much.’
Alex was intrigued. Arlit, he knew, was the man Davie had identified early on in the mission as someone he wanted to talk to himself, observing that he was the ‘smartest guy in the room’ down there, and could be of help to them. Nothing much had seemed to come of it, though Alex knew that Davie had made friends with him and that they chatted a good deal.
‘Have you asked him?’ he queried, not pleased by the idea that they might already have set this up before asking his consent.
‘No,’ Davie grinned, ‘he’s asked me. It was one of the first things he asked, could he come up and see the ship, and when could he come up, and he hasn’t stopped asking about it since. He’s learned more about the ship than anyone else, you know. I mean about science and tech, not just food and families.’
It was true; Carrearranians took little interest in technology. It didn’t seem to be something they considered relevant to them. For many, indeed, it seemed almost distasteful, once they’d understood that their visitors dug metals out of rock to create their machines. Doing that was abhorrent to the Carrearranians and they were reluctant to discuss it, so most of their questions were about what foods the star people ate, and what their families were like.
‘Arlit wants to know about everything,’ Davie said. ‘What does that do? How does it work? We’ve got as far as differential equations and optic telemetry.’ He grinned again at Alex’s startled look. ‘Told you he was smart. But he is up for this, skipper – ready, willing and able.’
‘I’ve done as full a psych work up on him as I can from records,’ Simon said, ‘And I am confident that he will not just be able to handle this, but will positively enjoy it.’
‘Hmmn,’ said Alex. ‘Well, this will need some thinking about.’ He smiled, seeing that Davie accepted that at once while Simon started to look obstinate. Davie was smarter, recognising that Alex was making a decision there which he wouldn’t change under persuasion. ‘It isn’t urgent,’ Alex pointed out, directing the explanation to Simon since Davie understood already, ‘it is a very big step and I want to think and sleep on it before I make that call. And I’m not going to say, ‘all right?’ because it isn’t a question; I’m just telling you how it’s going to be.’
Simon gave him a brooding look.
‘You can be really, really annoying at times,’ he observed.
‘Right back at you,’ said Alex, and they grinned.
Fifteen
The decision about Arlit was made the next day, though not before Alex had talked that through with Tan Ganhauser.
The ambassador-in-waiting had met Silvie, by then, in an encounter from which Alex had learned a good deal. Silvie had gone looking for him, curious to meet a man she already knew quite a lot about from the quarian perspective. Tan Ganhauser, in fact, had been the League’s ambassador to Quarus for two years, withdrawing himself from that post when he considered that he had exhausted all his diplomatic resources. At that, he’d lasted rather longer than most; ambassadors to Quarus were posted in batches of three, one in post and the other two waiting to take over. Sometimes they barely even made it through a month. Tan’s tour of duty there had been before Silvie was born, but she knew all about it from studying the history of failed diplomacy before coming out to the League.
‘But I don’t understand,’ she said, surveying him with wide-eyed astonishment when they met, ‘How could it have gone so wrong? You’re lovely!’
Tan laughed, though with a rueful note. Twenty years on, he still lay awake some nights pondering just that same question, How could it have gone so wrong?
‘If I knew that,’ he answered frankly, ‘I could have done something about it.’ He shook his head. ‘I love your world, and have nothing but the highest respect and admiration for your people. It’s the greatest regret of my life that things went so badly.’
Silvie gave a little gurgling laugh. Quarian recollections described Tan Ganhauser as a very needy, demanding man, uncomfortable to be around and quite offensively desperate by the end of his time there.
‘You wanted it too much,’ she said. ‘I’m starting to understand the irony of that, now – you send people out to us who are driven by an overwhelming sense of urgency and importance in trying to fix that relationship, and it’s actually that driven desperation that freaks my people out. What you should have done is send out ambassadors who didn’t mind either way how things went, happy to just hang out and go with the flow. I don’t mean superficially,’ she added, as he would have protested that many ambassadors had tried to immerse themselves into quarian culture. ‘But actually, you know, deep down, not minding how things turn out, no goals, no expectations. We can’t handle how needy and grabby you are, even without all the things about humans which are either bonkers or offensive or both. Me,’ she grinned, ‘I’m learning. I can see that you’re a lovely man. But wasn’t it you who ended up standing in Oleathor Gardens haranguing passers-by?’
Tan winced at the memory. ‘Well, trying to talk to people,’ he amended. ‘I thought if I could just connect, somehow, with someone… Utterly humiliating, of course. Another crash and burn at Quarus. But you really think that’s what it was? That I wanted it, needed it too much?’ When Silvie nodded, he looked as if he found that consoling. ‘Well, I couldn’t have changed that,’ he commented. ‘Superficially, of course, as you say, I could have acted more casual about it, but fundamentally I’d have still been feeling that drive and pressure. Anyway, all I can do is offer my apologies for the offence I undoubtedly caused, and assure you that I will do my utmost not to be offensive to you.’
Silvie gave another gurgle. ‘You’re not,’ she said, then a thought seemed to strike her. ‘You could help me out with something, though…’
Tan had hardly begun to say that he would of course do anything he could to help her when she caught him by the hand and led him off. She was already speaking through her comm, telling someone that there was a spot test and giving ‘T minus one minute.’
Before Tan had any chance of understanding what was going on, he was whisked off to engineering, bustled through the walkways there and led up to a young woman who was looking at him with her eyes closed.
It was beyond bizarre. She had evidently just stepped away from doing routine tech work on one of the coolant systems, her tech buddy standing by with a tolerant air. Nobody else was paying much attention, as if this was perfectly normal.
‘Empath training,’ Silvie told him, as if that explained everything.
Enlightenment began to dawn. He had a very definite sense that the young woman was looking at him, all her attention focussed on him even though her eyes were closed. She had, he noticed, an unusual hairstyle, clouds of vivid curls, almost as if her head was on fire.
‘Ah,’ he said, and seeing that his reaction was one of interest rather than alarm, Silvie moved him forward and guided both him and the girl so that they were holding hands.
‘Oh!’ Her grasp tightened, and a look of delight came onto her face. ‘Waves,’ she said. ‘Rolling and rolling. Orange, deep orange waves… gold swirling through it, rich and dark and warm like velvet. No fear, just giving … like he’ll give and give of everything he is … service, devotion, honour… an officer, I think. Yes, an officer. Big and warm and gentle.’ She hesitated, tipping her head slightly to one size. ‘Buzz?’ she ventured.
‘Open your eyes,’ Silvie said, and the fiery-haired girl did just that, blinked at him and looked astounded.
‘I’m flattered!’ Tan told her, with a grin and a look of keen interest.
‘It’s only flattery when it isn’t true,’ said Silvie, and grinned at him. ‘You and Buzz could be brothers.’
If anything had
been needed to assure Alex that he could put his trust in Tan Ganhauser that was it. He invited him to breakfast next morning, anyway, a meal shared in his daycabin where they could talk in private. At first the talk was cautious; small talk about how Tan was settling in, but Tan himself soon raised the incident with Silvie and Jen.
‘I’ve met human empaths before,’ he observed. ‘But a human empath being trained by a quarian is something new, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t think it’s been done before, no,’ Alex agreed. Attempts to use empaths in diplomacy with Quarus had not gone well – human empaths were effectively screaming their dysfunctions and neuroses even louder than ordinary humans. Quarians either fled the scene or treated them as mental patients. ‘It wasn’t planned; just something Silvie took on herself. We’ve no idea how far it will go or whether the training will prove useful to us in operational terms – we’re just treating it as personal development and seeing how it goes.’
Tan gave him a twinkling look. ‘Just like that,’ he said, and Alex laughed.
‘I expect it would be a bigger deal, in the Diplomatic Corps,’ he conceded, which made Tan laugh too.
‘You could definitely say that,’ he confirmed. ‘Something like that would be a project in its own right, with facilities and a team, planning meetings, budgets, progress reviews… here, you don’t seem to regard it as very important.’
‘Well, no,’ Alex considered. ‘It’s unusual, and there was quite a lot of interest in it at first – people would stop and watch when Silvie was training her, just interested. Once we’d seen what was involved, though, it was just accepted. And it isn’t at all disruptive – Ms Jennet is allowed to step off duty any time that Silvie wants her for training, and that’s usually just for a few minutes so it’s treated in just the same way as a comfort break. It is very informal, and by the nature of it, it has to be, I think – if you tried to cage it in the kind of project structure you’re talking about either Silvie would get bored and walk off or Ms Jennet would feel like a lab rat and tie up in knots. As it is, there’s no pressure.’
‘We wouldn’t actually be allowed to do that in the Corps,’ Tan commented. ‘Just leave people to get on with something as experimental as that. Which is always the story, of course, with the Corps… if you think that the Fleet has a heavy weight of inertia resisting innovation, Alex, believe me, they have nothing on the Diplomatic Corps. Just take, for instance, your Big Picture briefing.’ He laughed. ‘You just wouldn’t believe…’ he said, then grinned and changed tack, explaining, ‘You are not the first people to think of that idea, Alex, with no wish to take any credit from you here. Variations on the theme of creating a staged structure for exodiplomacy briefings have been around for ever, and are actually one of the hardy perennials that interns tend to come up with in the first rush of enthusiasm. I had a similar idea myself, in fact, though mine was on the ever-decreasing-circle model, bringing people from the outside in. And like every other intern who’s ever put anything like that suggestion forward, I was promptly squashed. I was told that it was a naïve idea, ridiculously simplistic and immature. Many of the people now in positions of authority within the Corps were told that themselves as juniors and have internalised it to the point where they themselves now squash bumptious youngsters putting forward the same idea. So when you people published your ten point scale there was an immediate and scornful rejection. Then the data began coming through on how effective it was even in very challenging briefings and things went very quiet.’ He grinned, saluting the captain with his fork. ‘Now, of course, it’s been re-written into Corps-speak so we can make it our own. But there it is, you see, all that weight of inertia, crushing any attempt to see or do things differently. As I expect you know, our motto in the Corps is slow, slow, slower, slow, then stop to ensure that all paperwork has been completed correctly.’
Alex grinned too. ‘Yes, I’m aware,’ he said, with vivid memories of dealing with incidents of Diplomatic Corps bureaucracy. ‘I find it amazing how much goodwill and support I have from the Corps, myself, given how very different our thinking and methods are.’
‘Oh – you’re the Wild Boy,’ Tan said, and they both laughed. ‘Seriously, though,’ Tan told him, ‘the Corps does understand, and always has understood, its own strengths and weaknesses. It does have great strengths. All that weight of inertia and the slow grinding processes are very stabilising, you see, which is important in the primary role of maintaining stable relationships between all our worlds. In most exodiplomacy, too, a slow, careful, methodical approach is just what is needed. Sometimes, though, situations arise which call for a more dynamic, creative problem solving approach, and for that the Corps has always, historically, looked beyond our own ranks. Which is, I think, a great strength in itself, to recognise when a situation is beyond us and call in someone with the skill-set to act on our behalf. Which is why, by the way, you are the first contact ambassador here and I am waiting till you’ve achieved secondary phase before I take over. I, you see, don’t have any choice, I have to do things by the book, slow, slow, slower and stop.’
Alex looked curiously at him.
‘You find that frustrating?’
‘Sometimes, of course.’ Tan admitted. ‘And I think it’s fair to say that I have envied you, at times, your freedom. But then…’ he gave a sudden grin. ‘I see the pace and the pressure you work under, and, well…’ he shook his head. ‘I couldn’t do it,’ he said honestly. ‘Terrifying even to watch.’
Alex smiled, but gave him an alert, searching look.
‘Too fast, you think?’
‘No, no!’ Tan held up his hands in a quick gesture of withdrawal. ‘I’m not criticising, far from it! And heaven forbid that I should act as any kind of drag on what you’re doing. I’m just saying that the pace and pressure you work under is beyond anything I’ve ever seen, and how you keep it up, month after month…’ he stared just as searchingly at Alex in his turn, ‘forgive me for asking, but you are human, aren’t you?’
Alex grinned – it was not the first time he’d been asked that.
‘Perfectly normal homo sapiens, yes,’ he said. ‘No genius intellect, no abnormal physiology – just, I guess, rather more than my fair share of energy. And I am, of course, a workaholic, always have been, never happier than working at full stretch. But I would, seriously, like to have your opinion. Getting the pace right here is one of my biggest concerns. It often feels that I have to hold things back, fighting against over-enthusiasm, while at other times I wonder if I’m pushing things too fast. It’s hard to keep that balance, you know? And when you say it’s terrifying…’
‘Oh – that was for me, personally,’ Tan clarified, ‘Doing an ‘if I was in your shoes’ exercise. I did a virtual shadowing exercise on the way out here where I spent a day dealing real-time with all the information and decisions you’d made on a day of normal workload. I knew it would be fast, but honestly…’ he grinned. ‘I must admit that there have been times when I’ve been startled by the speed with which you make decisions, even major mission steps. But when I look at it, I always find that either they’re contingency decisions, ones you’ve already made in planning what you’ll do in the event of various possibilities, or steering decisions keeping things on track. I certainly don’t consider that you make hasty or ill-considered decisions. And if you’re concerned about what others will think, I really wouldn’t worry about it, Alex. Believe me, whatever you do, there will be people who say you should have done it differently.’
‘Oh, I know that!’ Alex laughed. ‘Not to mention those who are howling that I shouldn’t be doing it at all. It isn’t that, Tan – I know it isn’t possible even to satisfy everyone within the Senate, and I understand, too, that that’s healthy. Our government should be a forum where different views are represented and argued out, and this is obviously something that is going to generate a lot of strong feeling and debate. I have no problem with that. I have my orders, and I must say that I am delighted with them.
It isn’t that long ago in our history that the discovery of a pre-industrial world meant the worst kind of imperialism, moving occupation forces in for their own good and allowing a free for all amongst corporations grabbing for resources. I mean, just look at Mimos.’
There was silence for a few seconds while they both considered Mimos.
‘I was very concerned that Carrearranis might become another Mimos,’ Alex admitted. ‘But we have learned from our mistakes. Now, we’re holding back and respecting their rights of self-determination. That makes me proud to be here representing the League, really does. And if Dix Harangay says ‘Good job’ at the end, I really won’t mind what anyone else has to say.’
Tan smiled. He was conscious of a warning in the Diplomatic Corps’ evaluation of Alex von Strada’s own strengths and weaknesses. He had, it said, a somewhat idealistic and sometimes unrealistic ethical position, which he would not compromise. This could be a strength in forming high-trust relationships but a drawback in the realities of political pragmatism. And this, too, was one of the reasons why Alex was up front in forging the relationship and why Tan would take over once it had been established. It would be Tan who had to deal with the phase of contact in which offworld interests, including those of intersystem corporations, were moving in to help with development.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Please forgive me if I slip over sometimes into seeming to give you advice. I don’t mean to, I know you are very much more experienced than I am in first contact and I certainly don’t see myself as here to advise you.’