by Sam Smith
Aware that she might be being seen as unreasonably prejudiced, Tulla Yorke reined herself in, took a deep calming breath, and continued,
“For hundreds of years now we have spoken one language. We are no longer used to communicating across language barriers. Out on the edges, where we still occasionally encounter primitive languages, machines do the work for us. We use, we own, one language. Of course we have the jargons, the lingua franca of the various professions — doctors, Service, technicians, police... But that slang is easily accessible to the rest of us. Comprehensible to us. The syntax is the same. There are no pitfalls of misunderstood emphasis. Nor do we get, with people moving on as they do, local dialects arising. We are simply not accustomed anymore to talking across a divide. And the divide we have here is not between two groups of the same species, but between two vastly different species. The differences in thinking have to be profound. For instance all our scientific thinking is directed towards symmetry. We expect to find symmetry. Do the Nautili? We don’t know. And what do they know about us? How much are they judging us by their standards? That we don’t know either. And language is based on shared assumptions.”
None chose to dispute her assertions.
“We have to start somewhere though,” Jorge said. “As we do with savages.”
“That’s a mistaken analogy. The Nautili are civilised beings. Probably as sophisticated as us, but different. I agree that one day we will have to communicate directly with them. But that’s not the first step. First we have to win their confidence, to make it worth their while to talk to us.”
“We could win their confidence by talking to them.”
“As I said, they are probably as sophisticated as us. They probably have their own version of career politicians, have probably learnt like us not to take them too seriously. The only reason Hambro Harrap is going there is because he wants the political kudos that will come from his being the first to talk to them. And politicians abuse language. Unlike those of us who struggle with it to express the truth, they glibly turn it about to obscure the truth. So, eventually, one can believe nothing they say. Would you believe anything Hambro Harrap or his Nautili equivalent has to say?”
Jorge conceded her point.
“And language,” she continued, “any language, carries its own values. With the Nautili we are going to have to first create the values, then use those values as a basis for communication.”
The three men sat on in thoughtful silence, Nero frowning over ideas new to him.
“I am still not entirely satisfied,” Jorge said, “that simply talking to them won’t work.”
“Take this one hard fact,” Tulla said. “Where they have only listened Olvess and his successors have heard nothing. Only when they have made sonar broadcasts have they received a sonar response. I don’t believe that the Nautili communicate among themselves by sonar. It is either an alien or a primitive medium to them. While out in space no-one has detected, nor even chanced upon, radio communication between Nautili. We have seen their ships, but no-one has ever seen a Nautili. We therefore cannot deduce from their physiognomy how they might communicate. No-one, I emphasise no-one, has detected any form of communication between Nautili. Neither light, nor sound, nor radio. Infra-red, ultra-violet — all have been tried. Hence the widespread suspicion that they might be telepathic.”
“If they are telepathic wouldn’t they have tried to contact us?”
“What if we’re not?”
“So how do we discover if they are telepathic?”
“By,” Tulla hopelessly surrendered to the logic, “communicating with them on a medium known to both of us. But sonar alone has already been proved, time and again, not to be that medium.”
“Supposing that Tevor Cade fails,” Jorge sat back in his chair, “how then do you propose to communicate with them?”
“On a much simpler level. By action. The Nautili understand action. They understood us defending our stations and cities, When they saw that we would not move out of their way they made detours of our cities and stations. Nowhere since that first battle, since our first contact, has a city or a station been harmed. Even where the Nautili have passed within a thousand kilometres of it. And Dag Olvess tells a story of where the Nautili were attacking some savages in retaliation for their fishing in the sea. He interposed his unarmed ship between the attacking Nautili and the fleeing savages. The Nautili recognised his gesture and abated their attack. That is how, by action, we communicate.”
She took a breath,
“We don’t know why they do what they do, but we do know what they do. They also probably have as little idea why we do what we do, but they know enough of us to avoid our cities, and to not attack our police ships. We must continue to communicate by actions. But, from now on, by positive actions.”
Inspector Eldon Boone roused himself to speak,
“I don’t trust people who know all the answers,” he referred to Tevor Cade. “I’ve got more faith in your ignorance,” he told Tulla. “But how do we demonstrate to them our peaceable intentions, when we can’t see them?”
“Not necessary. We have enough evidence to suppose that they can see us. And, whatever we decide to do, I propose that we make ourselves very visible. And please don’t misunderstand me — I will be one of the first to congratulate Tevor Cade if he does establish communication with the Nautili. Because, supposing we do manage to communicate with the Nautili, and taking a long term view, there are 145 planets here,” she gestured to the screen which still showed the Nautili spread, “where we could artificially create inland seas. 93 more if we can persuade the Nautili to remove their moons. And, if we take a very long term view, then within this area they have already colonised are many brown dwarves with planetary systems. If we were to ignite some of these brown dwarves we could eventually make some of those planets inhabitable. In fact were we to ignite all suitable brown dwarves we could increase planets available for Nautili by a factor of 12. But, as I said, that is a very long term view. First we have to communicate with them, discover their requirements to see if such a plan would be feasible. Therefore I welcome any genuine attempt to communicate with the Nautili.”
Jorge looked from Eldon to Tulla, turned to his screens. Again, while Jorge was thus occupied, Tulla, Eldon and Nero lost themselves in their own reckonings. This crisis was beyond all their experience, thus scotching the Service contention that experience is the be-all and end-all qualification. This crisis they had to face with whatever natural intelligence and aptitudes they possessed. So Inspector Eldon Boone and Nero Porsnin contributed caution, Jorge Arbatov logic, while Tulla Yorke’s share was vision.
Eldon said that it was a pity that Tulla hadn’t returned earlier from the platforms, then they would not have been bothered by ‘Doctor’ Tevor Cade and Senate Member Hambro Harrap. Tulla assured him that she would have been back the day before had it not been for some practical jokers on the platform. She told him the story. When she said that no sooner had she threatened to call the police than they had fallen over themselves to help her, Eldon smiled smally and secretly within his red beard.
While on the subject of Tevor Cade and Hambro Harrap, Tulla proceeded to curse Petre for having so unnecessarily complicated matters.
“Can hardly blame her,” Inspector Eldon Boone said. “We didn’t leave her with many options, did we?”
“I offered her my apartment.”
“Good of you, but she was still persona non grata on this station.”
“And it was still my confidences she betrayed.”
Jorge span around in his chair,
“I don’t think I have any choice,” he said. “I’m going to have to declare a State of Emergency.”
“No.” Tulla’s immediate response was almost involuntary.
“Why not?”
“I think,” she chose her words, “that it would be to overreact. More importantly control might be taken from you. That would cause delays. I’ve done some checking.
Most of our competent authorities on Nautili are in other cities. The first logical move, of anyone who takes control, would be to send for them. That would set us back weeks. Would be too late. We have to work with what we have to hand here. Now.”
“Sorry,” Jorge smiled at himself, “but for once in my life I find myself in favour of caution. A State of Emergency it has to be.”
“But someone else,” Tulla almost beseeched him, “might call in squadrons of police ships. Then all might be lost.”
“A State of Emergency will give me greater powers,” Jorge informed her. “I will be able to requisition amy equipment you might need. I will also have powers to keep out more blundering oafs.”
“All we will need,” Tulla said, “is one ship to get us to Happiness. For what I have in mind there your existing powers should be enough. Or you can declare a State of Emergency down there. But to declare one within the whole Department would be to invite attention, might indeed entice some blundering oafs in. This is better done quietly and tactfully.”
“I’ll place Sergeant Deaver and Constable Ligure at your disposal,” Eldon told Jorge. “They know some of what’s going on down there. They and their ship will, as from now, come under your direct command.”
“You don’t want me to declare a State of Emergency?” Jorge asked Eldon.
“To be frank, no. For the reasons Miss Yorke has already given. I am afraid of starting a war here. Because, even should we win — at whatever cost — you know no war ends with the last shot. So I would rather trust you with this than some unknown. And , to be frank, a State of Emergency would severely hamper another case I have at the moment. In fact it would ruin several years’ hard work.” Eldon chuckled, “Never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d be trying to talk a Director out of a State of Emergency. I could’ve done with someone like you a few times before in my life.”
“And you Nero?” Jorge turned to Nero Porsnin.
“Can I be honest?” Nero’s voice was pitched high with his own bravery.
“I expect no less,” Jorge said.
“For me to be associated with a State of Emergency would ruin my career.” He had said it! Said it! And, having said it, his voice dropped to a more comfortable level, “That aside, I agree with Miss Yorke. If, as she says, we don’t need to requisition extra equipment, and as we already have the police ship, I’d rather keep this business within the Department. That aside, I’d like to point out that I’m an administrator, an organiser, that I normally implement decisions, not make them.”
Jorge took but a second to change his mind,
“Right. No State of Emergency.” Realising that Jorge had been testing them, Nero, wincing, wished that he had answered differently.
“Now,” Jorge addressed himself to Tulla, “we have five days before we leave here for Happiness. Is that sufficient time?”
“Plenty. I have some further research to do; and I expect you to seek corroboration of my findings. But, before we go any further, before you make any more decisions, I must ask you to understand that I, like any scientist, am seeking to impose the pattern of my choice on what may be purely random phenomena. I may be, if only subconsciously, suppressing facts which are at odds with the pattern I have decided upon. Therefore I want you each to validate my each and every hypothesis for yourselves.”
“Indeed we will,” Jorge assured her. “Though I for one accept what you say. Were you, even subconsciously, suppressing incompatible data you would not have pointed out such a possibility. Unless it’s a double blind.” They smiled together at the deviousness of his mind. Still smiling Jorge turned to Eldon, “Inspector?”
Eldon shifted with some embarrassment on his seat,
“As I have already said I have this other case pending. Prior commitments force me to return to Torc immediately. However I will go privately, leave both police ships here. Sergeant Deaver’s ship will be entirely at your disposal, the other ship can make the regular patrols. If you should need both... I’ll leave instructions to that effect. I must apologise for leaving you at a time like this.”
“I understand Inspector. Now... how do you propose we demonstrate to the Nautili our good intentions?” he asked Tulla.
“As we have five days grace, rather than impose my conclusions upon you, I’d like to see what ideas you come up with independent of my research. If that’s amenable to you?”
“It is,” Jorge approved of her reasoning. “Now... this meeting is on record. But I am not going to give it any significant tag. It will therefore find its way into Service records as nothing out of the ordinary. And for the record,” partially turning Jorge spoke more for the benefit of the console than of the others present, “I am leaving here in five days in an attempt to make contact with the Nautili. I suggest most strongly that no extra police ships be drafted into this Department as this may be construed by the Nautili as provocation. However, if any Space station, if the smallest outstation comes under attack, I advise immediate retaliation. But, for the moment — no police ships.”
Jorge paused, returned his attention to the three people in the room,
“If anything that has been said at this meeting proves of interest to one of my superiors, and he or she acts upon it, then we will know that he or she is on their mettle, and we will welcome their intervention. They may know more than us. For the moment, though, I want you Nero to find our Director of Welfare and Leisure and tell him that, within five days, I want our library here to be at the same standard as that on Ben. He can take copies, incorporate theirs into ours. And tell him that if he fails so to do he’ll end his days as Sub-director of Hygiene on the furthest sub-station I can find. Cite dereliction of duty at him.”
Jorge Arbatov, of course, had no such powers; but an unfavourable report from him, or even a ‘decline to comment’, could permanently arrest the Director of Welfare and Leisure’s career.
“And when you’ve done that,” Jorge told Nero, “acquaint yourself with all of Miss Yorke’s research to date. We have five days in which to get our jabs. All of us. That includes you Inspector. We don’t know what unforeseen circumstances might require your physical presence on Happiness. You too Nero. Because you will be in complete command here while Miss Yorke and I are on Happiness. Circumstances might force you too down onto the planet. That’s all. Any questions? Meeting closed.”
* * * * *
While Tulla Yorke and Jorge Arbatov prepared themselves for their, as yet, unspecified task on Happiness, Inspector Eldon Boone returned in a private ship to Torc. Awaiting him there was a report from an undercover police officer, who had at that time been posing as one of the crew on a freighter. That report confirmed Tulla Yorke’s version of events on the platform, implicated all the crew of every ship that had called there that day. The undercover police officer too, incidentally, had initially suspected Tulla Yorke of being another undercover police officer, albeit one unknown to him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In every successful man and woman there is something of the shyster, simply because there has to be an element of the shyster in anyone who makes a success of, who reaches the summit of, their profession. Unless, of course, their rise is purely fortuitous — the unexpected popularity of an actor’s role for instance. But then, if that actor has no shyster in him, he will not exploit his advantage, will not consequently remain at the top of his profession.
Awen Mendawer was at the top of his profession. Being at the top of his profession gave him the opportunities to stay there. For example, because Awen Mendawer was known to be at the top of his profession, Anton Singh had sought. him out to accompany Hambro Harrap to Happiness. And, presented with such an opportunity, such as the chance to film man’s first meeting with the Nautili, the shyster immediately thrust aside all other considerations, all previous commitments. Loyalty to friends, questions of legality or morality... none were considered. Awen was faithful to film only.
Awen had early learnt to remain aloof from friendship, lest
considerations of friendship distort his vision. Not that he didn’t appear friendly: it was of help to him to so appear. But true friendship demands loyalty, and loyalty would preclude Awen’s making use of his friends to further his ambition, and nothing had to stand between Awen and the freedom to film.
Not that those like Awen intent on success do not make friends, they do; but those friends know that they are secondary to success. Nor with those, like Awen, who desire success, should it be seen simply as a desire for profit or for self-aggrandisement. Awen Mendawer, for instance, saw himself as the servant of his ambition; and in the service of his ambition he was prepared to suffer discomfort, insult and offended friendships.
Awen Mendawer’s ambition in life was to make one good film. A ‘good’ film had to be original in content and presentation, had to have its own distinctive style, had to become a ‘classic’, an example for other film-makers to emulate. As Awen never knew when that original material would present itself, whatever he saw he filmed.
Always Awen had at least one camera hanging around his neck. The majority of the time, though, his slight body was hung about with many cameras, some around his neck, some off his shoulders, some clipped to his tunic; all placed strategically on his person, at various heights, to be within immediate reach for whatever shot he required. His own face was rarely seen, his black tangled hair surmounting the matt black camera held at that moment to his eye. Anyone in his company soon came to accept that view of him; and, unsure whether he was filming them or not, they quickly forgot the self-consciousness that the presence of a camera customarily inspires.