Venturi

by S J MacDonald

  ‘Well, if anyone ever deserved to make a lap of honour…’ Luce teased, then spluttered with laughter as Alex fixed her in his steeliest glare. ‘Okay, okay.’ She held up her hands in surrender. ‘My sympathies,’ she said, understanding that such a tour would be sheer hell for Alex.

  ‘And mine,’ said Alex and continued, deadpan, ‘I’m going to ask for you to be our security liaison.’

  Luce’s jaw dropped and her eyes bulged momentarily in a reaction of pure horror which lasted just for the half-second it took her to realise that Alex was pulling her leg. And as they both laughed, then, the tension dissolved. Luce might not like having to leave Lady Ursele and the others here so unprotected, but she had accepted it. Knowing when to leave, too, was an important part of the mission.

  And as the last few days raced by, it became increasingly apparent that that was, indeed, the right decision. Though there was uproar to begin with as the news spread, some of the ambassadors calling Alex to either plead with him or try to insist that he had to stay.

  ‘If you go,’ the Araki ambassador pointed out, ‘we’ll have those idiots at Number Seventy Six throwing their weight about, interfering and annoying people!’

  Alex did not feel that he could deny that. The chances were extremely high that Ambassador JDT would indeed attempt to assert himself once the Fourth had left the system. Knowing what he did about him, Alex too could predict with a high degree of probability that JDT would be extremely annoying.

  ‘We have done what we were asked to do,’ he said. ‘As I have said and kept saying, we were never here in any diplomatic role in our own right, only, only to assist Lady Ursele in establishing her embassy. As soon as she moves in, our job is done.’

  None of the ambassadors accepted that straight off, of course, since it was in the nature of their work to continue trying to persuade others to do what they wanted. But over a day or two Alex noticed a subtle change in the tone of those calls. There was no longer a sense of anxiety in them, but a growing sense of acceptance.

  ‘Well, I guess it’s going to be down to us now,’ said Roll’em, during one of his visits to the ship. ‘And to all the guys on the Avenue.’

  Alex nodded. ‘I have great confidence in you,’ he said, though what he really meant was that he had absolute confidence in Lady Ursele.

  Roll’em grinned, understanding very well what Alex actually meant. The only hope for peace to be brokered between all these highly conflictual people was the magic of Lady Ursele. Even those with the most rabidly determined ideologies found that the action she was suggesting they take was so reasonable and beneficial that they eventually had to agree. Alex understood how that went, remembering how Lady Ursele had got him to agree to stripping all the weaponry from his ship and bringing it entirely undefended into a potentially hostile port.

  ‘It will take a while,’ Roll’em predicted and Alex nodded again. Governments would react with bewilderment and suspicion to the news that an ambassador from a semi-mythical alien race had arrived at Lundane and somehow charmed their ambassadors into collaboration. The news that the Fourth had been involved would confuse issues still further, requiring extensive investigation before any government would accept that the situation was indeed as first reported. It would need even longer for them to be assured that Lady Ursele wasn’t subjecting their representatives to some kind of alien hypnotic influence and that the decisions being made here at Lundane were both workable and in their best interests. Alex would be following progress here as closely as delayed news and his own missions allowed and hoped very much that he would be back here in three years to see the culmination of that process. And in the meantime, hopefully, there would be rather more interesting and challenging things to do than an honour-tour around the central worlds.

  Their time here had been a success in other ways, too. Later that day a whalebelly freighter arrived, towing a sizeable berg behind it. They had, it transpired, met another ship leaving port a couple of weeks before and had been told what was going on here, upon which they had gone off on their own initiative to add a chunk of ice to their cargo.

  This, initially, caused some consternation in the diplomatic arena. None of the ambassadors were sure how the Fourth would react to a ship taking bergs from the system they were using as a water source for Lundane. They might not have formally claimed it as such but there was a general feeling that they had established some kind of mining rights there and mining rights, out here, were such a sensitive issue that worlds had gone to war over them.

  The Fourth, however, were frankly delighted, congratulating the whalebelly’s skipper for his enterprise. And seeing that and the profit they could make for just a few days’ deviation, it was apparent that as word spread amongst spacers the supplies of ice would continue to increase. And as the Lundanians began to accept quantities of ice in lieu of port fees, that would push things even further.

  Two days before they were due to leave, the Fourth gave their own final gift of water to that parched world. They could spare a few thousand litres of water from their own tanks – a miniscule amount in global terms, of course, but significant in what they did with it. There had been discussions about the possibility of them depositing the water in a shallow pool within the capital city as a symbol of the terraforming effort to come. It had also been suggested that they might spray the water as a shower of rain over a city or a rabnak crowd. In the end, though, they settled for simply adding it to the water supply with funding for every child on the planet to be given a free litre of water as a gift from the Fourth. It felt better, that, more satisfying, than any grandstanding show.

  ‘I think it’s fair to say,’ Buzz remarked, ‘that we can score ten for social contribution.’

  Alex laughed. He and Buzz were in the habit of having an informal round-up as the end of a mission approached and they had snatched a few minutes for that at the end of a long, busy day.

  ‘No argument there,’ he conceded. The way they did this was a game in which Buzz listed all the ways they’d succeeded while Alex was as negative as possible, looking at what they’d done with the worst possible construction that others might put on it. It was entirely unofficial, but helpful, they’d found, to step back and get a balanced perspective on how things had gone. But not even Alex could think of anything to knock down Buzz’s assertion. Quite apart from the fact that they’d helped to liberate Lundane from the tyranny of corporate exploitation and set the ball rolling both for the development of a genuine independent government and for the long-term terraforming of their world, they had given significant, practical support and fundraising to charities which would make a material difference to the lives of people in the greatest need.

  ‘But minus ten,’ Alex added, ‘for inter-agency relationships.’

  Buzz guffawed, understanding that Alex meant both the relationship with the League embassy here and with their own intelligence services.

  ‘Wish I could argue that!’ he said. ‘But hmmn, fair enough!’

  ‘Well,’ Alex said, with a philosophical air. ‘We can’t win them all.’

  Twenty Nine

  The last day at Lundane was something none of them would ever forget.

  To start with, the Pirrellothian craft, now fully repaired and restored to full glory, was lifted over from the Samartian embassy to take its place in front of the new building. It gleamed deep bronze in the sunshine, a shining testament to the courage of those who’d boarded it. Even now, looking at it, Alex felt a little shiver run through him at the thought of getting into one of those primitive stasis bags and being fired out into space aboard such a flimsy capsule, entirely dependent on an alien species to take them through their Veil and on the Fourth to find and revive them the other side of it. And now here they were, so very far from home, and could never go back. Every one of them was a true hero, devoting their lives to the service of peace.

  Lady Ursele herself was taken down to the completed embassy shortly after the capsule had been installed, a
n event which was inevitably highly ceremonial. Lady Ursele walked aboard the shuttle from the ship but was met groundside by attendants carrying a veiled chair. All that any of the hundreds of thousands of onlookers saw was the flutter of filmy veils around the litter as her attendants carried the chamlorn reverently from the shuttle into the building.

  The next time she appeared was that evening, at the event being held to thank the Fourth and say goodbye to them.

  It was quite an occasion. Every embassy on the Avenue had been invited to attend the opening event and only the Teralians had refused. Nor was there any chance that anyone was going to pull the usual trick of putting newcomers in their place by accepting invitations and then not turning up. Everyone wanted to be there for this.

  And it was, indeed, a wonderful experience. Pirrellothian protocols were very different from those in any other embassy, so everyone came to it with a sense of venturing into what was, after all, alien territory.

  For a start, there was no defined time for arrival. Guests were told that they could arrive at any point during the day, though Lady Ursele herself would not be appearing in the Hall until mid-evening. Some of the guests had already been there for a couple of hours before Alex himself arrived. As soon as he arrived, though, there was a great rush of arrivals as others had taken their cue from seeing his shuttle leave the Fourth’s ship.

  They were all escorted to reception rooms which lay behind it. These were lovely rooms, high and spacious, with gauzy drapes which could be drawn to create private cubicles for any guests who wanted to take a nap, or even to stay for the night if they felt so inclined.

  ‘Ohhh.’ The invitation had specified that each guest might bring two place-sharers. Alex was, therefore, being accompanied for the evening by the most junior officer in the wardroom – the newly qualified Sub-lt Kate Naos – and the youngest member of the crew – Simmy. Both were bright eyed, glowing with delight and soaking up every moment, and both sighed in quiet, simultaneous bliss.

  ‘Please, be at home,’ the attendant escorting them smiled, as if they were ever going to feel at home in such palatial surroundings. There were low divan-style sofas scattered amongst pools and fountains playing holographic water. ‘There are freshing rooms.’ The attendant was Coru, who indicated entrances to what they understood would be the Pirrellothian equivalent of bathrooms and salons, spaces in which they could ensure that both hygiene and grooming were perfect before they entered the chamlorn’s presence. ‘Refreshments are available from the servers.’

  There was a note of apology in that, which Alex at least understood. Standards of hospitality had had to be adapted here. On their homeworld, it would be taken for granted that there would be many attendants taking care of each guest. But here, there were only the eighteen of them and nearly three hundred guests to be looked after, so a degree of automation had been introduced. The servers Coru indicated had been provided by the Fourth, styled as low tables in front of each sofa, in curved petal shapes to blend with the décor. ‘You may rest and refresh here for as long as you wish,’ Coru advised them, ‘And proceed into the Hall whenever you are ready.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Alex indicated that he would be going to a freshing room first, for which he got a bright, approving smile from Coru. Several guests had bustled right through the resting chambers without so much as pausing to cleanse themselves, which was extremely bad manners under Pirrellothian custom.

  It was, therefore, an hour or so later that Kate and Simmy followed him as Alex led the way unhurriedly through to the Hall of Veils. Adjustments had been made here, too, to cater for a situation beyond anything traditional Pirrellothian hospitality had ever had to cope with. So this Hall and these protocols were unique. Lady Ursele herself had specified both the design of the Hall and the new protocols which were to be deployed here.

  The Hall was lovely. The translucent drapes which surrounded it and the subtleties of the lighting made it feel even bigger than it was, as if it might go on for ever. At its heart was a pool – not real, since Lady Ursele had decided that water was too scarce a commodity to be used for any ceremonial or decorative purpose. Instead there was a holographic pool provided by the Fourth, with a gently moving forcefield which would support real flowers being floated across it.

  Lady Ursele herself was already seated on a stone seat placed at the head of that pool, raised on a plinth in the traditional way. But identical plinths and seats had also been placed in a broad oval right around the chamber, which was very far from traditional. There was one for each of the embassies on the Avenue and another dozen or so for additional guests.

  Alex went forward, guided by an attendant, to sit briefly at the visitors’ end of the pool. Here, he took a flower from a bowl of them set by the pool and laid it onto the holographic surface while the attendant announced him.

  ‘You are welcome, Commodore Alexis Sean von Strada,’ Lady Ursele said. She looked different here. No longer contained within the tiny environment of a starship, she filled this space with a sense of tranquil majesty. Even the way she sat marked her out as other than human. Her torso was upright, her left leg bent and laid flat so that the knee was directly in front of her, the other placed behind it so that the line of her legs extended along the couch. Even those flexible enough to achieve this position in the first place would soon find it excruciating. It would take non-human physiology and a lifetime of practice to hold that pose and make it look both effortless and elegant. ‘Ordinary Star Semach, Sub-lt Katrin Naos.’

  She smiled at them and Alex felt himself to be as shy as a child.

  Absolutely not a goddess¸ Alex reminded himself and would smile later at having to use his own technique for busting that sense of awe. Even with that, he felt himself to be in the presence of a truly astonishing and wonderful being.

  ‘We are honoured, your grace,’ he said and left it at that, as the attendant led them over to the couch which had been assigned to them.

  This was at the far end from the chamlorn herself. Places here had been assigned strictly according to the numbers of the embassies on the Avenue. So Lady Ursele had the occupant of Number One, the Pirrellothian Ambassador, on her right hand, while the currently unoccupied guest-embassy at Number Two was left vacant on her left.

  To one side of the pool were three of the chamlorn’s attendants, functioning this evening as musicians. They were playing softly on instruments Alex didn’t recognise. One made a sound like a mellow flute, another made a harp-like ripple and the third made a kind of musical hoot. The music they produced was quiet and gently undulating. It was, Alex knew, entirely improvised in the spirit of the moment. Pirrellothians did not compose music in the way that other cultures did, nor did they record it in any way. The only recording of their music in existence was one which they had made especially at the request of the Diplomatic Corps, via the Solarans.

  Alex had endured that recorded performance four times in succession, as it had been played in a loop during the farcical Diplomatic Corps attempt at a Pirrellothian dinner. It was a relief to discover that their live music was very much more pleasing. And Alex would have sworn, too, that there was a hint of amusement in the flow of the melody when both the Araki and Prisosan ambassadors arrived.

  Their arrival was perfectly choreographed. The Prisosan Ambassador came in first, performed the flower ceremony and was welcomed, with the Araki Ambassador a precise minute behind her. The next time they came in, it had already been agreed, it would be the Araki who would get to come in first. Both pulled off the ritual with stately dignity, neither trying to hold up nor to rush the other.

  Alex understood why. If either of them had tried to score cheap points off the other by such gamesmanship, that would only embarrass themselves and their worlds in the eyes of Lady Ursele. So they were both, miraculously, cooperating. And even if they were ignoring one another with a ferocity which meant they might just as well have been directing cat-stares at the other, there they were, sitting just metres apart attending t
he same dinner. Even a few weeks ago, you could not have found anyone in the diplomatic community prepared to take a bet on that happening, at least within their lifetimes. But there it was, the ambassadors from worlds which had been in a state of real or cold war for the better part of a millennium actually sitting down together at a social event.

  It helped, Alex thought, that there was no talking here. Guests could come and go freely, stepping out for comfort breaks or moving into the resting chambers if they wished for conversation. But within the hall itself, etiquette was that nobody spoke.

  As each couch was occupied, a leaf-shaped serving table glided up to a convenient position, displaying a data screen which was in itself an adaptation of Fourth’s tech to make up for the absence of attendants who would normally look after guests. The screen was offering them the first step of the dinner and Alex, having waited a few minutes for courtesy, touched the control which would bring up the serving tray.

  This appeared a few minutes later – an extraordinarily long time to wait for automated systems, but reflecting the fact that the act of placing the trays in the delivery system was being undertaken by one of the attendants at a pace they considered to be restful, dignified and healthy for digestion.

  The first delivery was of three fine porcelain bowls. These contained a tea, with immense cultural significance both to the tea and to the type of cup or bowl they were served in.