Alex couldn’t help it. There were in fact three ways to get past his stone-faced public demeanour. The first was quite simply to be either a member of his crew or a passenger aboard his ship, as that sense of responsibility for you would create an immediate bond. The second was to get to know him by working with him, building trust to the point where he was easy in your company. The third was to meet him in private and batter his defences with a charm offensive he simply couldn’t resist.
This was ‘in private’, as Lt Vilar had remained outside the glade with the presidential retinue, just the three of them here in this circle. It didn’t feel particularly private to Alex, being outdoors, but he had already noticed that he could neither see nor hear any of the people they’d left just thirty metres away.
The warmth of Joy Arthas’s smile, her obvious understanding of the difficulty he had in relating to strangers in formal situations, and her being so comfortable with being friendly towards him despite that, just broke those barriers down at once. He felt himself breaking into a perfectly genuine grin of amusement and liking, and made no attempt to conceal it.
‘Ah hah!’ Said Joy, and grinned triumphantly, ‘Alex!’ she said, and flicked a chuckle at Froggy Croker which made it very clear that he had been advising her on this, and perhaps even that they’d had some kind of bet on how long it would take her to get a smile out of the poker-faced captain.
Alex didn’t mind. He might well have had the same kind of playful side-bet with Buzz Burroughs, and he laughed, too, at Froggy’s remarkably unconvincing attempt at a look of angelic innocence. It felt like the three of them were friends, and that felt, strangely, as if half his mission was achieved already. He had had a tough time of it at Novamas, dealing with a rabidly hostile port admiral and a xenophobic system president. Just to be able to be at ease with these two, and know that he had their support, was wonderful.
Of course he should have known that it was never going to be that simple. He did know that, really, but allowed himself the luxury of just a few minutes feeling that everything was going to be plain sailing.
He did have a few minutes to enjoy that feeling, too, as the president appeared to be in no hurry to get down to business. Telathoran etiquette dictated that the visitors be provided with cool fruit drinks, and that no business be conducted while they were drinking them. So Joy Arthas made pleasant small talk, giving Alex time to catch his breath. Only when he’d finished his drink did she get to the purpose of his being there.
‘I’m so glad you’ve come,’ she told him. ‘And I do hope you can track down the Mon…’
She looked at Admiral Croker and he held up a mock-warning finger, at which she laughed and changed what she’d been about to say. This was evidently an in-joke between them. ‘Phenomenon,’ she corrected, and Froggy grinned. ‘We’ve tried everything we can think of, searching and leaving messages for them all over the place,’ Joy Arthas said, with a note of regret, ‘but they are the definition of elusive – I’d say a phantom, if I didn’t know better. But you have a plan, yes?’ She looked hopefully at him.
‘Well, yes, but nothing more than you’ve been told about already,’ Alex said, feeling somehow that she was expecting something more. ‘We’ll use our latest navigation and scanner tech to explore as far as we can, and just see what we can find.’
Joy Arthas laughed. ‘It’s okay,’ she told him. ‘I understand, you can’t tell me everything. And I promise I won’t embarrass you by hammering for answers you can’t give. I know you will tell me what you can, when you can.’
Alex looked at her with dawning consternation.
‘Honestly,’ he said, ‘we really don’t have any more information than you’ve already been told about.’ He could see that she didn’t believe him, and was about to put his hand on his heart and swear on his honour when Froggy Croker intervened.
‘Nothing hard and fast, of course,’ he said. ‘Just ideas.’ He grinned at Alex, though there was a warning in his eyes. ‘And you’re not telling me that your people don’t have any ideas, Alex.’
He had him on that one, as Alex had to concede.
‘Oh, we’re never short of ideas,’ he admitted, drily, and both the others laughed.
‘I’ll bet,’ said the president, and went on, quite simply, ‘It would be a crowning moment in my life to meet the people who made us. The Thelae are not gods, of course, but they did create us, giving us the ability to survive where they couldn’t. We’ve inherited an outstandingly beautiful world from them, and a rich cultural heritage, too. They deserve our gratitude, to be remembered and honoured by us, always. I do believe that after they had created us and given us this world they withdrew to a quarantined site of their own, and I hope with all my heart that they are still there. If you do get to talk with them, Alex, then please convey that from me, will you? Above all, if I had only one opportunity to say one thing to the Thelae it would be thank you.’
Alex inclined his head.
‘I understand,’ he said, choosing his words carefully because he could see Froggy Croker gazing at him as if trying to tell him not to argue with the president on this. ‘My own world is an Olaret Nesting, a genome created by them when they knew they were unlikely to survive. The generosity of that awes me, it really does. If we – humans – found that we were facing a plague for which we had no resistance and no cure, I can’t imagine that we would even tolerate another species which would supersede us as we died out, let alone create and support them. I too would like to thank the Olaret for their grace and their tremendous gift to us. Sadly, I know I never can, the Olaret died out long ago. But if we are able to find the people behind the Phenomenon, which is a big if, and if it turns out that they are descendants of the Thelae, which is an even bigger if, then I will certainly pass on your thanks on behalf of your people.’
‘I can’t ask more,’ she said. ‘Well, I can, of course. I want you to bring them here, so that we can welcome and honour them as they deserve. I want, one day, to see them presented to our people, walking openly amongst us – or at least, for my grandchildren to see that,’ she amended, as Alex looked at her with some concern at these wholly unrealisable ambitions. ‘What is it you say?’ she asked, ‘If we don’t believe it can happen, then it never will.’
Alex had been known to say that, or something like it, but he was amazed both that she knew that, and that she was quoting him as if it was some pearl of wisdom.
‘That’s just a saying on my world,’ he explained. ‘Something my mother used to say to me as a child.’
Joy gave a little splutter of mirth. ‘That explains a great deal,’ she observed, teasingly, and then, as if feeling that he might consider this to be impolite, ‘I’d like to meet your mother. She sounds inspirational.’
Alex grinned. ‘I’ll tell her that next time I write,’ he said, and could just imagine his Mum’s reaction to being told that her son had been chatting to a system president about her.
‘Do,’ Joy said. ‘But it is true that unless we are open to the possibility of change, change becomes impossible. And I do believe that our people are ready, even now, to welcome the Thelae or any other exo-visitors.’
‘If there is a world in the League which is,’ said Froggy, ‘that world is Telathor. And if it was just Telathor, you know, I would be right behind you moving to public disclosure. But…’ he looked at her with wry apology, and she sighed.
‘I know. What would be greeted with delight here would cause panic on other worlds,’ she said. ‘So we have to be patient. But it isn’t easy – we are not a secretive people, and to have to lie and conceal things from our own people is deeply offensive to me, as their president. I keep quiet because I had to agree to that before I was given exo-briefing, and because I cannot have mass panic on other worlds on my conscience. But I do not understand, Alex, I just don’t, why the disclosure of contact with other species – entirely peaceful other species – should throw worlds into the kind of panic they say it would.’
; Alex thought about Novamas, and almost shuddered. If worlds were being pegged on the Big Picture Briefing scale he and Buzz had devised, Novamas would be at the opposite end of the scale to Telathor. Most worlds would be in the mid to lower end of that scale, too. Going public with the statement ‘aliens are real and yes they are visiting our worlds’ was just not to be contemplated.
‘It does, though,’ he said. ‘And it is well understood how that happens. It only needs a tiny minority to panic – one in ten thousand, say, seeing something on the news about aliens arriving and reacting either by attempting to flee their homes or batten down for a siege. That seeds panic – as people see transit routes out of the city being clogged and supermarkets being stripped, they start to follow the herd. Authorities are never believed in that situation, as it is taken for granted they are covering up the truth. If you’ve ever studied some of the great panics, Joy, you would understand why the Senate just can’t take that risk.’
‘Yes, I have been shown the holos,’ Joy said. ‘But the last of them was more than forty years ago, Alex – surely some progress has been made since then?’
‘I’m sure it has,’ Alex agreed. ‘There is a constant push towards awareness. Forty years ago, only spacers and a handful of people regarded as nutters knew that Solarans visit our worlds. Nowadays it’s a fairly common mainstream belief on many worlds that our governments are concealing contact with another species, and on some worlds they even know the word Solaran. But that’s, you know, an abstract acceptance that there are some non-human species somewhere out there which our governments might theoretically have some communication with. That is a very long way from being ready to see aliens walking down the street of your home city, it really is. I have, myself, seen educated, well-travelled and open minded people needing medical treatment at the discovery that the person they are talking to isn’t human.’
That made her giggle.
‘Yes – I’ve been told that that’s why you developed the Big Picture Briefing, because you were tired of picking people up off the deck when you introduced them to Shionolethe.’
‘Something like that,’ Alex admitted.
‘Well, I promise you I won’t faint or hyperventilate,’ she said, and looked yearningly at him. ‘I can’t wait to meet her and Ambassador Silver.’
‘They’re both very much looking forward to meeting you, too,’ Alex said, ‘and very appreciative of the invitation to visit Telathor.’
The Vice President, in fact, was already escorting Silvie to be taken to the facilities which had been hurriedly prepared for her – an underwater hotel which had been taken over and turned into a temporary Embassy. Shion would be going with her, with Davie acting as liaison with the Diplomatic Corps and local authorities. President Arthas would be meeting Silvie and Shion later that day at a formal reception being held for them.
Alex himself barely got back to the Heron in time to get changed for that event, which was nominally being held for him although Silvie and Shion were the real guests of honour. Even after he had finally been released from his meeting with the president, he found that others were there, waiting to meet him.
One of them was the general who had authorised the loan of the army base which was to be put at the Fourth’s disposal. Along with him was the colonel who had actually offered the base. Both were very pleasant and hospitable and arrangements had already been made for the colonel to take Alex to see the facilities.
He had already seen it in VR, as Yula had provided details of both the base and the resort which were being given for their use. Being there in person was a different level of experience, though, surrounded by the overwhelming scents of greenery and flowers. It certainly didn’t look like any military facility he’d ever seen on any other world. It was part garden, part art installation, and all breathtakingly beautiful. Accommodation was provided in individual lodges nestled amongst the forest, the lecture hall was a glass-covered amphitheatre and the refectory was set around an ornamental lake. Alex was genuinely stunned to have such a place given over for his use, entirely free of charge and with all necessary security, supplies and housekeeping staff provided too. The ‘Colonel’s House’, which was to be his groundside base of operations, combined extensive office facilities with luxurious accommodation.
‘It really is extraordinarily generous,’ Alex said, making the words do the work as he was finding it difficult to show his feelings. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the colonel, who was soft-spoken and affable, but he was embarrassed at accepting such generosity and mindful, too, of the extensive retinue going around with them. ‘We are truly in your debt, Colonel – I can hardly thank you enough.’
‘My hand, your hand,’ the colonel responded, with a smile.
Alex got the same response when he thanked the presidential aide who showed him the resort being put at their disposal for shoreleave. Or at least, gave him a drive-round overview and drinks in one of the many restaurants. Alex had assumed that the resort would be something like a big hotel, tucked away on an island which could be easily secured.
In fact, it was an island, some fifty kilometres by forty, boasting every leisure facility imaginable and a standard of accommodation which the Telathorans felt would do credit to their world when entertaining visiting heads of state and their staff. That meant, of course, that the whole place was effectively an art installation. There were no ‘standard’ rooms here, every lodge was individually designed and furnished by artists. It was a place Alex knew his crew would love, and he lost no time in authorising shoreleave. That would start with five hour passes on rotation to allow everyone a chance to stretch their legs, with longer passes allowed as and when operational demands permitted.
By the time Alex got back to the Heron, though, he was grateful to take a break both from the overpowering Telathoran environment and the equally overpowering hospitality. Going back aboard was not straightforward – even with the air-blast he’d stepped through before boarding the shuttle to return, the airlock still detected pollen, dust and other contaminants adhering to his uniform. He was obliged to step aside into the airlock shower and flash-launder his clothes before the inner hatch would open. It was a relief to step back into the familiar grey surroundings, to the scent of fresh coffee and the buzz of cheerful conversation.
Surprisingly, though, Buzz was not looking particularly cheerful. He welcomed the captain back aboard with due courtesy, but there was a certain reserve in his manner.
‘A pleasant visit, sir?’
‘Excellent,’ Alex realised at once from that sir that there was a problem, giving his exec a look of alert enquiry. ‘What’s up, Buzz?’
Buzz gave him a look which conveyed that there were many things he would have liked to say, but that even he didn’t feel it would be appropriate to launch into them at the airlock.
‘Oh, nothing,’ he said, with more than a hint of irony. ‘I just wish we’d had a little warning, that’s all.’
‘Warning?’ Alex queried, feeling a twinge of alarm. Anything which had upset Buzz was, by definition, a serious problem. They were still standing in the airlock, with the command deck to their left and the entrance to Alex’s daycabin to their right. Alex indicated right and Buzz nodded, going with him so that they could continue the discussion in private.
Once the door had closed behind them, Alex turned to his exec with a look of concerned enquiry.
‘I’m not quite sure,’ Buzz admitted, ‘whether to take it as a compliment that you expect me to be able to deal with something like this without warning, or whether to remind you that I too am only a human being and that there are only a hundred minutes in an hour, after all.’ He saw that Alex was still looking incomprehending, and prompted him, ‘The visits, dear boy.’ Seeing continuing, questioning blankness, Buzz explained, ‘The twelve hundred and eighty three VIPs you have invited to visit the ship.’
Alex’s jaw dropped. ‘The what?’
Buzz cracked into laughter as he saw that Alex had no idea
what he had done.
‘Twelve hundred and eighty three VIPs!’ he assured him. ‘Alex, you’ve been inviting just about everyone you met groundside to come and visit the ship, including the entire system Senate and every national president and senior military officer on the planet.’
Alex looked aghast. He could remember issuing invitations, of course; it had seemed the only thing he could do at the time in response to such tremendous warmth and generosity. He could even remember a forest of hands going up and considerable cheering in the Senate when he’d assured them that they would be welcome. He was fairly sure he hadn’t invited more than a thousand people, though, let alone every national president and senior military officer on the planet.
‘I didn’t!’ He protested, and then, in the face of Buzz’s certainty, hesitated. ‘Did I?’
‘You did,’ Buzz told him. ‘Diplomatically, yes, you did. You cannot invite the entire System Senate and not invite national presidents too – they’re equal socially, and it would be regarded as a dreadful snub to leave the national presidents out of an event to which all the senators have been invited. It’s the same thing with military high command – what you said was perceived as inviting all the services’ high command officers, because it would be insulting to invite, say, the army, but not the SDF. On any other world that wouldn’t be too much of a problem because only a few of them would want to come anyway, but here, they all want to come. I have, so far, had twelve hundred and eighty three RSVPs from VIPs confirming that they will be delighted to visit the ship and wanting to arrange a time.’
Alex considered this with a mix of awe and horror, and fully understood, then, Buzz’s indignation at having such a situation dropped on him without warning.
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