Review Night on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 11)

by E. M. Foner

  Four

  “Another emergency meeting already,” Czeros commented. “I could get used to this room.”

  “Watching the ships entering and leaving the core just makes me motion-sick,” Kelly responded, and turned away from the transparent wall.

  The elegant meeting room, reserved by the Stryx for special occasions, was built at one of the ends of the enormous cylindrical space station. It offered an outside view without the use of any imaging technology, though Kelly was unsure whether the wall was a transparent solid or an atmosphere retention field.

  “Isn’t that the Nova?” the Frunge ambassador continued, pointing at a tiny ship that appeared to be towing a somewhat larger craft towards the station’s hollow core.

  Kelly turned back, straining her eyes and her implant, but she couldn’t tell whether or not it was her husband’s tug because it was moving fast and was lost from view almost immediately.

  “It might have been. They’ve been going out every day and towing in another of the alien ships from Paul’s collection. I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Joe so excited about work.”

  “Ambassador,” Srythlan rumbled, propelling his leathery bulk ponderously across the room. “I wish to add my personal apology to that of my government, and to officially notify you that there is still some money left in the old compensation fund for the affected users.”

  “What are you talking about, Srythlan?” Kelly asked, but a flawless Vergallian beauty beat the slow-spoken Verlock ambassador to the punch.

  “You must be Kelly McAllister,” the Vergallian ambassador stated. “I rather expected to see you draped in jewelry, given the financial resources your family commands. I suppose you’re dressed like a peasant to evoke our sympathy.”

  “You have the advantage of me, Ambassador…?”

  “Abeva,” the Vergallian responded, turning to her Horten companion. “You see, Ortha? This is what business has come to on the tunnel network. The Imperial Navy is looking for target practice vessels and authorized me to pay a reasonable price for that lot of ships the Stryx auctioned off, but the Humans stole it out from under our noses with a ridiculous cash bid. Of course, my predecessors left warnings about the favoritism shown to the newcomers by station management.”

  “One of our guilds sent a representative to investigate purchasing the ships to model a retro game,” the Horten ambassador responded. “He turned right around and went home when that children’s show host showed up with a pet Stryx in tow.”

  “If the two of you are referring to my daughter-in-law’s purchase of scrap ships, I’d say that both of you are sore losers,” Kelly retorted. “Now if you don’t mind, I was talking to my Verlock colleague.”

  “Anybody know what this is all about?” Bork inquired, joining the knot of ambassadors. “Why isn’t there any catering?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” the Dollnick ambassador chimed in. “I got up from lunch to attend this emergency meeting, but I don’t see any enemy fleets attacking the station.”

  “Maybe there’s an assault going on at the other end,” Czeros suggested helpfully.

  “Ah, here’s the food now,” Bork declared with satisfaction. “Let’s get out of the way so the caterers can do their work.”

  Two Gem waitresses guiding a floating catering cart cut through the clump of ambassadors and began laying the table. Jeeves floated in behind them, discussing something with the Grenouthian ambassador, who seemed to be paying more attention to the Gem than to the Stryx. The moment one of the caterers unwrapped a tray of sliced fruit, the Chert ambassador materialized out of nowhere and began transferring all of the yellow slices to his plate.

  “Don’t you people eat at home?” Jeeves complained, as the giant bunny he’d been attempting to converse with dodged past him in a move that was surprising for an alien who bulked nearly as much as the Verlock.

  As the other ambassadors broke into a mini-stampede, Kelly hung back with Srythlan, who was both incapable of rushing anywhere, and oddly disinterested in free finger food for a diplomat. She turned to repeat her question to the Verlock, but this time Jeeves came between them.

  “Thank you for coming, Ambassador Srythlan,” the young Stryx addressed the Verlock formally. “May I deprive you of Ambassador McAllister’s company for a moment?”

  Srythlan inclined his head graciously and began shuffling towards his seat. Jeeves led Kelly back to the transparent wall with the dizzying view of ship traffic against a backdrop of the galaxy.

  “What’s this meeting all about, Jeeves, and why are you singling me out?”

  “I’m just taking advantage of feeding time for a private word on an unrelated subject,” the Stryx replied. “Are you familiar with the first contact protocols that are binding on tunnel network members?”

  “I guess,” Kelly replied. “But when would I ever be the first to encounter a new species? I don’t go anywhere. And is there a leak on this deck? I hear running water.”

  “You’re hearing white noise from your implant because I’m projecting an impenetrable privacy field. A word to the wise. It pays to know the protocols.”

  “Wait,” the ambassador hissed, grabbing at and missing the Stryx’s pincer as he began to move away. “Is this about the review? Will there be questions about first contact? I haven’t studied for this!”

  The random noise in Kelly’s head cut off, and the sounds of her fellow ambassadors arguing over the remaining scraps of cross-cultural cuisine filled the room. When the last slice of citrus fruit was gone, the diplomats turned to the species-specific dishes, such as Sheezle bugs for the Dollnick, and stringy orange vegetables for the Grenouthian.

  “Thanks for waiting,” Kelly grumbled when she finally located the seat with ‘EarthCent Ambassador’ on the nameplate. “Nice job with the strategic eating.”

  “I saved these from Bork,” Czeros said, surprising her with a small plate of crackers, a grain-based food shunned by the Frunge.

  “And I rescued these from Czeros,” Bork added, handing over a number of cheese slices wrapped in a napkin.

  “Look who has herself a harem,” Abeva commented to the table at large, bringing a guffaw from Ortha, and causing the Grenouthian ambassador to spit some masticated root vegetable into his paw to avoid inhaling it. “I can see which way the Drazens and the Frunge will be voting in the status review.”

  “Sentients, sentients,” Srythlan said, tapping on the table to force himself to increase the tempo of his speech. “I believe that with the exception of our Grenouthian colleague and myself, this is only the second emergency meeting any of you have been called upon to attend. Since the immediate cause involves my people, the Stryx have requested that I provide a little historical context.”

  “We’re going to be here to the end of the cycle at this rate,” Czeros muttered to Kelly. “I hope they bring more food.”

  As if in response to the Frunge ambassador’s words, another Gem appeared with a floating cart, this time a wet bar. The clone went around the table, quietly taking and filling drink orders while Srythlan droned on.

  “…and so it was determined that the innovative solution we had developed produced a deleterious effect on both passengers and the fabric of the space-time continuum. Following consultation with the affected species, the Verlock Trading Guild’s Emergency Recovery Network services were discontinued, and the entire project was transferred to a Stryx working group.”

  “Use the acronym, Srythlan,” the giant bunny begged the Verlock. “We all have places to be.”

  “Very well,” the Verlock rumbled. “VTGERN devices were recalled during the reign of Shrynlenth the Two-Thousand and Seventh, but as they were typically installed in ships without Stryx controllers, it wasn’t possible to track down every last owner for notification. Recently, a ship that was lost to piracy and preserved in a private collection activated its VTGERN device and was brought to Union Station. The three humans on board are undergoing treatment for radiation poisonin
g, though the doctor assures me that they will all recover fully.”

  “That’s it?” Abeva said in disgust as Srythlan settled back into his chair. “I was summoned away from an important choreography conference to discuss obsolete Verlock engineering and careless humans?”

  “The view is worth the time,” Crute pointed out. “I’ve been watching the ships coming and going and I’m proud to say that I’ve counted more Dollnick vessels than any other type.”

  “Is that including our traders?” Ortha asked skeptically.

  “Naturally I excluded ships below a certain cargo capacity,” the Dollnick ambassador replied.

  “If you’re all done with your biological activities, my elders have delegated me to address this meeting,” Jeeves announced, putting an end to the casual banter. The Stryx floated to the head of the table as Czeros hastily poured himself another glass of wine and tossed it back. “Your Fillinduck colleague was unable to attend in person but is listening over a private link.”

  “These emergencies seem to be coming closer and closer together,” the Grenouthian ambassador grumbled. “It seems like just yesterday we were meeting to discuss the breakup of the Cayl Empire, which as I recall, never took place.”

  Jeeves ignored the jibe and continued. “Activation of the VTGERN, while ridiculously expensive, is not the core issue. For hundreds of thousands of cycles we have been counting the rising cost of piracy and waiting for the affected species to act. The first generation Stryx agreed long ago that if the economic cost to the tunnel network exceeded a pre-determined trigger, action must be taken to change the math.”

  Ortha, who normally had much better control over his skin color than other adults of his species, turned bright yellow. Kelly felt a pang of sympathy for the ambassador. Everybody knew that the Hortens were over-represented in the piracy demographic, and Jeeves had just announced that the Stryx had had enough.

  “What sort of action?” Bork asked in a subdued tone. Even though the Drazens and Hortens were on relatively bad terms, the idea of any species facing the wrath of the Stryx was disturbing. “Will you be suppressing piracy by force?”

  “The pirate fleets are no match for even the least powerful of the military forces of any of the established tunnel network members,” Jeeves replied. “My own analysis suggests that you have come to tolerate piracy since it provides a destination for undesirables, moving the problem out of sight and mind. We’re putting you on notice that if you fail to suppress organized piracy, we’ll be compelled to do it for you.”

  The Horten ambassador inhaled sharply, perhaps the first breath he had taken since Jeeves had begun talking. Behind him, the Gem with the bartending cart tentatively raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Jeeves said, pointing his pincer in her direction, which caused Ortha to change colors again as he thought the Stryx was waiting for him to provide an immediate answer.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing,” the clone said nervously, brushing her hair back from where it had fallen over one of her eyes. “You may—I mean, I’m sure you know that during the breakdown of the Gem Empire before our revolution, a large number of my sisters fled to the pirates in search of sanctuary. Will they be given a chance to, uh, reform?”

  “This is exactly why your sisters should have selected a new Ambassador after Gwendolyn returned home,” Jeeves scolded her. “My recommendation is that you get together and choose somebody to represent you on Union Station so you can participate in the process.”

  “We were saving the spot for Gwendolyn to return,” the Gem protested. “Besides, my sisters have had a bad experience with government.”

  “What about her question, Jeeves?” Kelly asked. “Have you already judged the pirates in absentia?”

  “We haven’t done anything other than to tally up the costs,” Jeeves replied in exasperation. “The first generation Stryx, and myself for that matter, expect you to discuss this rationally amongst yourselves, come up with a plan of action, and contact your respective governments for the necessary resources. In fact, I suspect that my continued presence may only disrupt your negotiations, so I will leave now.”

  Several of the ambassadors spoke at once in an attempt to get more information from the Stryx, but he put his words into action so quickly that there was a popping sound as the air rushed in to fill the space he had occupied a moment earlier.

  “Do you have another bottle of this excellent vintage?” Czeros asked the Gem, apparently unperturbed by the turn of events.

  “I could use a refill myself,” Ortha said, turning around in his seat to address the clone. “Same as I had before, but double the Urpo. No, on second thought, triple it.”

  “Maybe we should be inviting her to sit rather than ordering drinks,” Kelly suggested.

  “Drinks first, sit second,” Czeros stated. “Do you realize what the Stryx are demanding of us, Ambassador McAllister?”

  “They want us to agree on a plan to do something about the pirates,” Kelly replied. “It seems reasonable enough, and as Jeeves said, they can hardly be a match for any of your fleets.”

  “Seeing how this crisis was precipitated by the actions of Humans, I trust we can count on you to take the central role?” Abeva inquired sweetly.

  “Well, EarthCent doesn’t actually have a fleet,” Kelly said apologetically. “We don’t really have any warships at all when it comes right down to it.”

  “Perhaps it’s time you bought a few,” Crute suggested. “I’m sure I could arrange to provide surplus Dollnick hardware at rock-bottom prices with attractive financing.”

  “Be reasonable,” Czeros said. “It makes no sense for Humans to spend money on a navy while their only useful world is a Stryx protectorate.”

  “I supposed that’s true,” Abeva acknowledged graciously. “Even if they had warships, they’d likely just get in our way, or lose them to the pirates and exacerbate the problem. But surely we can expect EarthCent to shoulder its fair share by offsetting a portion of the expenses for the rest of us.”

  “Second the motion,” the Grenouthian ambassador said quickly.

  “Third,” Ortha rasped, after downing his triple strength drink.

  “All in favor?” Abeva proposed.

  “Wait a minute,” Kelly interrupted. “We haven’t even decided on how to proceed yet. What point is there to voting on Earth’s financial participation when my authority barely extends to the local embassy budget? Even there, my office manager gets angry if I spend down the petty cash without consulting her first.”

  “Ambassadors, calm yourselves,” Srythlan pleaded. “The Stryx have been delaying action for over a hundred thousand cycles. Surely we can get through a brief meeting without finger pointing and punitive votes.”

  “That from the species that created VTGERN,” the Chert ambassador muttered. Then he seemed to realize that he had spoken loudly enough for the Verlock to hear, triggered his shoulder-mounted invisibility projector, and disappeared.

  “So we’ve been drafted onto a new committee,” Bork concluded in a tired voice. “Somebody has to take point, and I think that Ortha…”

  “Why does everybody always blame us for the pirates?” the Horten demanded, his anger fueled by the triple Urpo. “You heard the Gem. The clones have probably been the fastest growing segment of the pirate population in recent years.”

  “I’m only a bartender,” the Gem protested, backing away from the table. She pressed a button that slid the covers into place over the levitating bar cart and began pushing it towards the exit. “I just remembered that I have to be at another job.”

  “Good going, Ortha,” Czeros grunted. “If that’s it for drink service, I see no reason to extend this meeting any longer than necessary. The question of what to do about the pirates is not going to be resolved today, and determining how it will be accomplished is a job for military and intelligence specialists.”

  “I understand that EarthCent Intelligence is headquartered on this station,” Abeva said with a con
descending smile. “That makes them naturals for the job.”

  “If you want the Humans telling you how to deploy the Imperial fleet, I have no objection,” the Frunge ambassador replied.

  “Why are you all in such a hurry to deploy military resources?” Ortha demanded. “Perhaps if we spoke to the pirates, we could convince them to change their ways.” After looking around the table to see how his suggestion had been received, the Horten ambassador amended himself. “Forget I said that. I’m not usually a heavy drinker.”

  “I believe we must act, and quickly,” the Grenouthian ambassador said. “If we don’t do something to change the second derivative of the piracy function, the Stryx might choose to zero it out. I will instruct my staff to search for precedents that may indicate how far we must bend the curve to prevent heavy-handed intervention.”

  “I will do the same,” Srythlan declared, and the other ambassadors made various noises of assent, falling in line behind the representatives of the two oldest and most powerful species on the tunnel network.

  “What’s he talking about?” Kelly whispered to Bork.

  “We need to determine the degree to which we must suppress piracy to meet the Stryx demands.”

  “Does the EarthCent ambassador have a thought to share with us?” Abeva inquired, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

  “Well, yes,” Kelly rose to the bait. “If I understand our Grenouthian colleague, it sounds like you want to determine a sustainable level for piracy rather than stamping it out.”

  “Pretty bloody-minded for a species without a single warship,” Crute observed.

  “Everything in moderation,” Srythlan rumbled.

  “Perhaps our Horten colleague could open a channel of communication with the pirates,” the Grenouthian ambassador suggested. “I’m sure that the rest of us need to consult with our governments before committing to any course of action, and as my esteemed Frunge colleague has pointed out, there’s no point in sitting around here just for the view.”