Janil looked at him with trepidation.
‘And a fail?’ he asked.
‘You upset her,’ said the attaché, ‘or you pass out, throw up, wet yourself or break wind uproariously. All of which have happened in the stress of encounters with her, believe me. Yes, even here on Telathor. However thrilled you are at the prospect of meeting her, you should be aware that humans are wired to be afraid of things we don’t understand. That’s a survival trait wired it at the genetic level and reinforced by our environment. How many times as a child were you told, ‘Don’t touch that, you don’t know what it is.’?’ That was clearly a rhetorical question, but Janil nodded to show that he understood the point being made.
‘Still – quarians aren’t dangerous, are they?’ He asked. ‘We know that.’
‘Absolutely – we know a lot about them,’ the attaché agreed. ‘You can, in fact, take a degree in quarian studies through the Diplomatic Corps, though for obvious reasons it does not appear on any university prospectus. I myself have such a degree and have spent years studying reports and footage from our team at Quarus. I am as fully informed and prepared to meet a quarian as anyone you are likely to meet. But even I, speaking personally, found it an overwhelming experience to actually meet her. It’s a phenomenon not unlike bioshock – you know how visitors here often experience dizziness, nausea, even anaphylactic shock at first encountering our environment? Well, the same kind of thing applies when meeting an alien. Even when they are humanoid, as Ambassador Silver is, there are subliminal clues which tell you that they are not human, and that sets up all kinds of instinctive alarm responses. And there are, you could say, degrees of exo-shock just as there are degrees of bioshock. Shionolethe can walk about in busy public places with nobody taking any notice beyond perhaps that she is an attractive lady. Ambassador Silver, though, could not go out in public without people realising very quickly that there is something very different about her. That’s why we have to close venues for her to visit, when Shionolethe could just go to them as normal.’
‘Like Solarans?’
‘Just like Solarans, yes, although their physical appearance is also different enough to trigger recognition of the fact that they aren’t human, especially in the way they walk,’ the attaché said. ‘But Solarans don’t come to Telathor, and won’t, either. They are extremely sensitive to bioshock and the environment here is considered too dangerous for them. It may, indeed, be centuries before we see any other exo visitors here. So, with the future of our relationship with Quarus hanging in the balance, it would be hard to overstate the importance of this visit, really. And now you are to be part of that too. Breathe,’ he advised, as he saw the reality of that strike home. ‘The fate of worlds is not on your shoulders. Worst case scenario, you cause offence or have to be carried out by medics, we have a strong enough relationship with Ambassador Silver to survive a great deal worse than that. But do just be aware that she is building up a picture, here, an understanding of humanity which she will take back to her own people, and for the fleeting moment you are in her presence you will be adding to that picture, either positively or otherwise. The only advice I can give is to be prepared for the fact that it will be overwhelming, be yourself, try not to throw up on her and do your best to answer her questions rather than just standing there staring at her lost for words.’
Janil was a lot more sober and thoughtful as they left the building than he had been when they arrived. There was no more whooping, just a look of some amazement as he saw that the square was just as it had been when they’d passed through earlier. People were eating, chatting, just carrying on with their normal lives, oblivious to the historic events taking place on their world. It could have felt very lonely, being set apart from normal society like that. But for Janil, it felt like a tremendous privilege. As he got into the car which had cruised over to collect them, he knew himself to be, right then, one of the luckiest people on the planet.
That feeling hadn’t changed by the time he arrived at the Hotel Oceana. There had been an interlude at a waterside facility where he was put through what he was assured was a moderate level of decontamination. It had seemed uncomfortably stringent to Janil, with a stinging shower and a gargle that made him choke, but he was assured that it was nothing compared to the rigours of full body decontam. His clothes had been put through some process, too, that made them feel a bit stiff and smell weird. Then he was passed through an airlock to board a fast sub which would take him out to the hotel. To his relief, Tamus went with him. He would not have admitted to being glad of the civil servant’s company, but Tamus felt like a reassuring constant in the dizzying whirl of all the other people who were processing him through to the meeting. He had started to think of Tamus as a friend, even to joke with him when they met up on the sub.
‘Decontam isn’t very pleasant,’ Tamus observed, and Janil grinned.
‘I know,’ he interposed. ‘You’re sorry about that.’
Tamus grinned too and they talked, then, as the sub made its way out to the hotel, about what Janil was to expect.
‘Ambassador Silver isn’t actually there at the moment,’ Tamus explained. ‘We thought she would be, at the point where we decided to take you out to the embassy. But since then she’s gone out. She may be back any time or it could be hours, but we may as well wait there anyway.’
‘Will I need to wear a diving suit?’ Janil tried to conceal his disappointment at the delay, and really was wondering, too, why nobody had mentioned the need for him to be provided with diving gear.
‘No, no – the hotel hasn’t been adapted in any way,’ Tamus told him. ‘Diplomatic Corps direction on that was that no attempt was to be made to create a quarian-style environment. So the hotel is just as it was. Most of the staff have gone on paid leave, of course, with the exception of those we gave security clearance to so they could stay and help.’
Janil considered that, along with what he’d already worked out about the extensive world-wide organisation of venues being closed to the public.
‘So – how many people actually know about the visit, then?’ He asked.
‘Here on Telathor? As of this morning,’ said Tamus, ‘including yourself, forty one thousand four hundred and thirty seven.’
Tamus considered that, too. He’d always imagined that conspiracies would be orchestrated by small, sinister groups – like many other members of Alien Truth, he held it to be fundamental that even presidents often weren’t told what was actually going on.
‘Hardly much of a secret then, is it?’ he observed, feeling a little as if the numbers of other people already given it somehow diminished the importance of his own clearance.
‘Oh, I do assure you that it is, very much so,’ said Tamus. ‘The presence of aliens visiting our worlds is something we want to push into public awareness in principle, but the knowledge that there is an alien ambassador here right now is absolutely the highest level of secrecy it is possible to get. But such matters are never handled in the way that movies and – if you’ll forgive me saying so – groups such as Alien Truth often seem to assume. There isn’t a secret organisation doing such things without the knowledge of the authorities. It is the relevant authorities which organise them, which means extensive disclosure, media briefings and the like. Spacers are always regarded as part of the knowledge group, too. They’re rarely actually involved or given official clearance but they are extremely well informed.’
As he spoke, their sub came in to dock at the hotel.
It came as almost an anti-climax for Janil to pass through the airlock and find himself in a luxurious but otherwise unremarkable hotel. As Tamus took him into one of the lounge areas to wait for Silvie’s return, he mentioned that there was a cover in place here for those who knew that the hotel hadn’t really needed to be closed for technical repairs but weren’t cleared to be told the truth.
‘The media believes that this hotel is being used as a private retreat for Captain von Strada,’ he explained. ‘And
they know he’s come here several times, too, which has reinforced that cover.’
‘Oh.’ Janil had been dealing with a great deal of high impact information since the police had got him out of bed. He had failed to join up various things which had been said and recognise the implications of them. It was only then that it occurred to him, with some surprise, that there might be more to Captain von Strada than appeared on the media. ‘Is he involved too, then?’
Tamus gave him a startled look and cracked into laughter. ‘Involved?’ he echoed, and shook his head. ‘Captain von Strada,’ he said, ‘is … well, I can only say a legend in exodiplomacy circles. There was, I think it’s fair to say, some consternation a couple of years ago when Shionolethe wanted to go and serve with the Fourth. That was evidently on the advice of Mr N, which nobody really understood at the time. Captain von Strada – Skipper von Strada as he was then – had only minimal exodiplomacy training and experience and it just seemed like a really bizarre decision, you know? But after a few months it became apparent that Mr N had known exactly what he was doing. Captain von Strada was made a Presidential Envoy for his work with Shionolethe and tasked, then, with further exodiplomacy assignments. A Presidential Envoy, by the way,’ he added, seeing the question on Janil’s face, ‘outranks a League Ambassador and is, socially at least, the equivalent of a system president. He currently holds Ambassador rank and has been asked by Mr N to take the leading role with Ambassador Silver. So he is, in fact, on point, as we say – right now, the man in charge, taking the lead in our relationship building with Ambassador Silver and, through her, with Quarus itself.’
Janil thought about the tremendous responsibility of that, and felt a touch of awe.
‘So,’ he said, ‘not actually here to chase pirates, then.’
Tamus gave him a look which required no empathic ability to interpret as don’t be silly.
‘There are no pirates,’ he said. ‘The Fourth is on exodiplomacy assignment – not this.’ he gestured around at the hotel. ‘Shionolethe’s visit was never the objective, just a bonus if the Fourth could be persuaded to call in here for a courtesy visit. Ambassador Silver’s arrival was an even more unexpected bonus. You don’t have clearance to be told what their actual mission is because that is on a strictly need-to-know basis, but I’m sure you won’t have much difficulty figuring it out for yourself.’
In fact, Janil had no idea at all what he was talking about, but he hardly liked to say so and it was evident that Tamus wasn’t going to tell him even if he asked. So Janil just let that go, accepting that he couldn’t expect to get answers to every single question he might have.
‘Anyway, Captain von Strada is involved, as you put it, yes,’ Tamus smiled. They were, by then, seated in one of the lounges with a stunning view over the reef. ‘Would you like some coffee? Perhaps some breakfast?’
Janil declined hastily, and Tamus had no difficulty understanding why he was so hesitant. Janil was worried in case eating or drinking anything made him need to visit the lavatory. He might be anxious in case that broke his decontamination or be afraid that the quarian might arrive just when he was feeling the need to go.
‘We may be here for hours,’ he pointed out. ‘Visiting the lavatory doesn’t breach decontam as long as you follow normal hygiene. And we will, I assure you, have several minutes warning before Ambassador Silver returns. I’m going to have breakfast, myself – the food here is always very good.’
Janil allowed himself to be persuaded, though he felt far too excited to eat.
‘Am I allowed to ask where she is?’ he queried, once they’d placed their order through the menu on their table. Tamus consulted a pocket comp.
‘We are,’ he commented, ‘currently at condition red – that means totally off schedule. Though it is pointless anyway even drawing up a schedule for a quarian. People say that we Telethorans have no time-ethic but we are models of punctuality and timetabling in comparison with quarians. The nearest we get to an actual schedule is a list of venues Ambassador Silver has told us that she wants to visit and an understanding that she will give us a minimum of half an hour’s notice when she wants to go there. Just now, she’s gone somewhere entirely unexpected – to a wild bird sanctuary, in fact. Apparently she wanted to meet owls.’
Janil stared at him, and slowly came to the realisation that Tamus was serious.
‘Owls?’
Tamus shrugged. ‘Owls,’ he confirmed. At that point their breakfast arrived, gliding down onto the table from an overhead service grid. ‘Exodiplomacy,’ he said. ‘As they say – bewilderment just goes with the territory.’
They ate their breakfast – or at least, Tamus ate his while Janil picked at and moved things around his plate. He did manage some coffee, though, and was glad of its reviving effect.
‘It still feels like a dream,’ he admitted, having checked the time on his wristcom. ‘It’s only five hours since I was woken up by the police, but it feels as if that was days ago.’
‘Well, you’re dealing with a lot,’ said Tamus, quite kindly. ‘You should be proud, in fact. You’ve come in already very high on the Big Picture scale and rocketed up through disclosure. The Big Picture is a briefing process the Fourth came up with after they found themselves having to take people to sickbay when they were told that Shionolethe isn’t human. There’s always been a muddle of conflicting theories and policies amounting to hardly more than ‘don’t tell people things beyond their ability to cope with’, but the BP briefing is very clear and straightforward to work with, establishing the level of someone’s exo-awareness and how to progress from there, with steps which have to be achieved before you can go to the next level and ‘stop’ indicators which put the process on hold. We’ve only just started to use it here but we’re finding it very effective. And yes, we have been doing that with you, too, giving you information step by step and observing you for any ‘stop’ indicators such as panic, denial, exhaustion… since you’ve remained alert, curious and positive throughout, we’ve been able to take you up to the top level of disclosure in something like record time. So well done, Mr Caldova.’
‘Thank you,’ Janil said, and found himself grinning like a kid.
It was just over an hour later that Silvie returned. Her owl encounter had gone very well. The owls had proved to be responsive to empathic resonance and had allowed her to pet them without as much as a peck. Silvie had been dissuaded from bringing one back with her, too, and had settled for a little robo one as a memento of the visit. She had already showered and changed aboard the sub, ensuring that she brought not even a grain of pollen back into the clean-room environment of the hotel and changing back into the kind of outfit in which she felt comfortable relaxing at home. This was the kind of skin-tight iridescent garment that Janil had mistaken for shimmering scales. It was not something Silvie tended to wear around strangers, as she had found that most human men responded with annoyingly strong feelings when they saw her dressed that way.
Janil, though, was one of the exceptions. When he was brought to meet her he gazed only at her face, her eyes, and his whole being sang with reverent delight. It really did seem to him as if he could hear music, just looking at her, heavenly music as of an angelic voice soaring. He would not have felt it inappropriate to drop down on his knees.
Silvie gave a peal of merry laughter.
‘Goddess 149!’ she said to one of her companions, apparently noting it as some kind of score.
The lady so addressed, an elegant woman with rich black skin and warm eyes, grinned agreement, but Janil hardly noticed. All his enraptured attention was focussed on Silvie.
‘Oh – but you’re clever, too,’ Silvie observed, looking at Janil with keen interest. ‘I like that kind of tick-tock mind,’ she told him. ‘It’s clear and crisp; refreshing to be around, like the scent of lemons.’
Exodiplomacy, Janil remembered. Bewilderment goes with the territory.
‘You were right,’ Silvie added, to the other of the two peopl
e who’d come with her into the room. Janil had barely registered him, and barely did so then, taking him in with a glance only because the quarian was speaking to him. Rather surprisingly, her other companion was a child – about the size of a Telethoran ten year old, with a cheeky face and scruffy hair. ‘Very smart,’ Silvie said, and the boy chuckled, giving her an I am always right look to which she responded as if he’d said it aloud. ‘No, you’re not,’ she told him, and as he went to speak, held up a warning finger, ‘Uh uh!’
The boy cast up his eyes in comical surrender and the dark-skinned woman laughed.
‘Score,’ she observed, and Silvie grinned smugly.
‘Practice,’ she responded, and looked back at Janil, then. ‘It would really help,’ she told him, ‘if you could stop worshipping me. Oh, I know!’ She braced herself, drawing in a breath and pushing down her shoulders. Janil saw the boy beside her put a hand over his eyes and heard him give a theatrical groan, while the other woman just grinned tolerantly. Then Ambassador Silver, radiant alien goddess, produced a big, croaking burp.
Janil stared at her in utter stupefaction for a moment and then exploded into helpless laughter. But it had worked; the spell was broken and he would never again gaze at her with that sense of worship for an other-worldly being. Silvie grinned at the hooting student with mischievous satisfaction.
New Title 2 Page 41