by Warren Dean
Her sense of inadequacy for the task at hand returned. Surely these were the questions a serious reporter would ask. But the president had expressly forbidden her to ask questions of this nature and, she had to concede, for good reason.
He was winding down his introduction. "As you will see in a few moments, the strangers are able to communicate in English, which they have learned by studying our satellite communications and Personet broadcasts."
The defence ministers must have winced again.
"As to who they are, where they are from and why they are here, I think they should speak for themselves."
He gestured towards the cafeteria doors. Two of his agents opened the doors and a hush fell over the room. Every head turned and Batu panned his hand-held camera in that direction.
Bolormaa entered first, followed by four very tall, slim figures. She led them towards the podium. The strangers towered above the diminutive administrator and walked with long loping strides. Their shoulders were a little stooped, as if they were having to fight the effects of Earth's gravity.
The hooded capes they had arrived in had been discarded and they now wore long, elegant robes made of an unknown fabric. The robes shimmered as they walked and continuously changed colour, passing through varying shades of blue and green.
When the bizarre little procession reached the podium, the administrator peeled away and scurried to a seat which had been reserved for her. She hunched into it, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. Three of the strangers took up position alongside the podium and the fourth stepped up beside the president. The two of them exchanged a peculiar gesture, each briefly inclining his head to the left. Then the president left the podium and took up a seat in the centre of the front row.
The leader of the strangers turned to the camera and repeated the gesture, which Qara surmised must be a form of greeting.
Then he spoke. "In my civilisation this is how we acknowledge one another. President Ganzorig has been kind enough to adopt our custom when conversing with us."
His voice was high-pitched with a slightly metallic tone. Until then, Qara had assumed that the stranger was male, but the lack of bass in his voice made her wonder if she was wrong. She looked for a clue in his face. He had two eyes, two ears, a mouth and a nose, but that was where the similarity to a human face ended. His skin was a very light shade of green and he had fine, bone-white hair which hung down to his shoulders. The large ears protruding through his hair were set high up on the sides of his head, and tapered to a point at the top. Below thin, white eyebrows were large green eyes with yellowish pupils, and the nose was not much more than a raised bump of skin covering tiny nostrils. The narrow mouth had thin, dark lips and, as he opened it to speak again, she caught a glimpse of white pointed teeth.
"My companions and I have learned that, in your civilisation, each individual has a spoken name and it is the custom to exchange these names when strangers meet. We do not have such spoken names, which makes it difficult for us to honour your custom. Instead, each member of our race projects a mental image of the characteristics which make up his or her personality. The best description of it in your language would be an 'aura'. Individuals who come within range of each other's auras formally acknowledge each other in the way I have just shown you."
The stranger raised an arm, revealing a hand with three long fingers and a thumb. The fingers ended in sharp white talons. Nails, not talons, Qara corrected herself firmly.
"To introduce ourselves to you, we have decided to assume names that will make sense to you. Initially, we thought that we could translate our personal auras into your language, but we found that this results in names so long and complex that they could not possibly function as intended. We have resolved not to randomly choose names used in your society in case we unwittingly use names which give offence. Instead we have chosen to adopt the practice of the land of our gracious host, President Ganzorig, who has explained to us that his people are named descriptively."
Qara couldn't help thinking wryly of the meaning of her own name. As a child, she had grown up indignant of her parents' decision to name her 'Black Wolf' but her father had always explained that, the day before her birth, her mother had seen a beautiful black wolf watching her from the forest near their home. Her mother was from a clan which still respected nomadic traditions, one of which was to acknowledge natural signs and omens. As she lay dying from complications of childbirth, she named her daughter Qara-Chinua so that the infant would be protected by the spirit of the wolf after she was gone.
At least her name wasn't Batu Qorchi thought Qara, glancing slyly at her camera-man, although it could be said that 'Loyal Quiver-Bearer' was curiously appropriate to his chosen occupation.
"The most appropriate title for my function in your language is 'ambassador'," the stranger continued. He waved his elegant four-fingered hand in the direction of the other strangers. "The titles which best fit my companions are; 'analyst', 'translator' and 'physician'. We have added simple modifiers to these titles to help differentiate us from members of your society who bear similar titles. So, I shall be Ambassador Ba, and would like to introduce you to Analyst Ko, Translator Vi, and Physician Ti."
The other three strangers briefly inclined their heads.
President Ganzorig spoke up. "Thank you for your fascinating introduction, ambassador. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give us an idea of why you have chosen to visit us."
Qara mentally scratched the first question she had planned to ask.
"Certainly", said the ambassador. "We are members of an ancient race, at least compared to your own. I mean no disrespect in saying this. Yours is a young, energetic race with a great deal of potential. We, on the other hand, have long since fulfilled any potential we once had and our civilisation has reached a state of stagnation. For the past twelve millennia, we have travelled the entity you know as the universe, seeking out and contacting young races such as yours in the hope that, by mentoring and interacting with them, we can avoid the decline which tends to follow after a civilisation has reached its pinnacle.
"Our preliminary studies have indicated that you are at an appropriate stage of development for such contact. What we offer you is knowledge and technology which will develop you into a space-faring race. In time, we will introduce you to other space-faring races and hope that you will become part of our intergalactic community. What we ask in return is the opportunity to study you and to learn from you. You are under no obligation to accept our offer and you will find no armed force patrolling your star system as a threat to compel your co-operation."
"Thank you ambassador," the president interjected again. "And now, with your permission, I will invite questions from the floor."
Qara waited politely for someone else to ask the first question. There was dead silence and the president studiously avoided looking in her direction. They're waiting for me, she suddenly realised, and leapt to her feet.
"Ambassador, can you tell us the name of your race?"
The ambassador's green-eyed gaze settled on her for the first time. "Unfortunately, the name of my race cannot easily be translated into your language. In my speech it is..." He touched the side of his long neck with a finger before emitting an ear-splitting shriek, causing havoc with Oyugun's sound levels. He touched his neck again in the same place.
"Our speech cannot be tolerated by the human ear, so our translators have constructed an implant which lowers the tone of our voices enough for you to hear us comfortably. We understand that the users of your global communication network have already bestowed a name on us; the Faerie Folk."
Qara hoped that Batu's lighting wasn't good enough for anyone to notice the deep flush creeping over her face. She wondered if the ambassador knew that she was the one responsible for flippantly coining that name.
"Administrator Bolormaa has explained to us that the name stems from our coincidental resemblance to certain mythical creatures of your folklore and, although we do not pur
port to be incarnations of such creatures, we believe it would be simpler for us to adopt a name already in use, rather than to introduce another."
His gaze returned to her, inviting the next question.
"Where are you from, ambassador?"
"We inhabit a star system in a galaxy beyond the range of the instruments you have developed so far. In time, we shall assist you to enhance your instruments to the extent that you will be able to locate our galaxy, as well as other galaxies where you will find sentient beings."
He must be a politician, she thought irreverently, he was certainly adept at giving seemingly straight answers containing very little real information. Or perhaps she was being unfair and it was reasonable for him to want to avoid overwhelming his audience at such an early stage.
"Ask how they travel through space and how they discovered Earth," Tol suggested in her ear.
She hesitated. The president would be happy for her to ask those questions, but the question that she ought to ask, the one that a serious reporter would ask, was one that was almost certainly on the forbidden list. She could see that Batu's second camera was trained on her, and that its red tally light was on, indicating that the shot of her face was currently on air. An audience of billions was waiting for what she would say next.
The question came naturally. Where the nerve to ask it came from, she had no idea.
"Ambassador, please forgive my impertinence. You have told us that you are from a space-faring civilisation, that you and other members of your race have established a presence on our planet, and that your intentions are simply to share your advanced technology with us. Many people on Earth will be sceptical of your words. Do you have proof that any of this is true?"
His eyes widened and this time the gaze that swept down on her was almost predatory. She had a sudden sense of being dwarfed by a towering intellect. It felt as though the creature on the podium could pierce her deepest thoughts with no more than a sharp look. She kept her head up, determined to face whatever outburst she had provoked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the president begin to stand up but the ambassador spoke before he could intervene.
"I am impressed, young human," he said. "None of our other mentored races has ever had the courage to question our integrity so bluntly, or so soon after first contact. Also remarkable is that, although you are wracked with inner doubt and fear at having taken it upon yourself to challenge our stated intentions, you did not permit this to deflect you from following your chosen course."
Qara stared back at the ambassador, wondering insanely whether the back-handed compliment would be followed by a deadly strike with some concealed weapon; a laser beam hidden in a sleeve of his robes, perhaps, or a stream of poison from a sac concealed behind his teeth.
He paused for what seemed an eternity before continuing. "If it is proof you want, young human, proof you shall have," he simply said.
----------
THE FOREVER GENE is available now in the Kindle Store:
http://getbook.at/TheForeverGene