by E. M. Foner
“Are you sure? Rilrythe’s term paper posited that it was an early Human attempt at an educational children’s picture book. I perused the contents using a linear translator, and although the approach is often flawed, the text offers several novel ways to perform computations that produce correct answers within limited domains. I’m sure if you just worked with it a little each day, you’d find yourself caught up in the beauty.” Srythlan flipped the book open at random, and triumphantly declared, “There. Aren’t the illustrations lovely?”
Kelly stared at a representation of the contour lines for the modulus and phase of the Hankel Function and felt herself growing dizzy. Fortunately, Donna entered the office, and said, “I think you and Ambassador Srythlan need to get going if you’re going to make the Dollnick embassy on time.”
“Thank you, Donna. And thank you for the criticism and the gift, Srythlan. I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s all that any of us can do,” the Verlock replied philosophically. He rose to his feet and began shuffling towards the door. “Have your people been making any progress on the piracy issue?”
“You mean our intelligence people?” Kelly asked. Srythlan nodded in the affirmative. “I’m afraid our knowledge of piracy is limited to what we’ve learned from the humans who were captured by pirates and later ransomed or escaped, including Clive’s sister. They’ll be talking at the public hearing next week.”
“Hmm. I’ve been briefed by our own intelligence people and they suggested a working relationship between the Humans of a colony world named ‘Bits’ and the pirates in that region. Nothing that rises to the level of strategic cooperation, but pirates depend on tolerance when it comes to finding markets for stolen goods.”
“From what Paul told me about that place, it’s basically a geek world peopled by programmers. They make a living by doing contract work for the highest bidder and creating their own games. Now that I think of it, he may have mentioned that they barter with pirates for alien military hardware that they can use to model new weapons.”
“Here’s what I heard,” Srythlan said, and for the next fifteen minutes, managed about one word per step as they made their way to the lift tube, and then to the Dollnick embassy. “…So while nobody will accuse you of being in collusion with the pirates, it would be wise not to portray yourselves as completely innocent bystanders.”
“Thank you,” Kelly said again, as much because the Verlock ambassador had reached the end of his discourse as for the information imparted. “It looks like we’re a bit early.”
“Early is on time,” the Dollnick ambassador greeted the new arrivals. He ushered them into the meeting room, which was already populated with most of the oxygen-breathing ambassadors. “I’m asking all of the participants today to acknowledge that I have not accepted chairmanship of this committee and that I am hosting this meeting purely as a matter of convenience to myself.”
“If that’s what you say, Crute,” Kelly responded.
Srythlan waved a hand dismissively at the Dollnick, and the Grenouthian ambassador, who had arrived right behind them, said, “Live with it, Crute. It’s your turn in the burrow.”
“What does that mean?” Kelly subvoced Libby.
“You don’t want to know,” the Stryx librarian replied.
“Good, the catering is here,” Czeros spoke up from the end of the table as a Gem entered the room. “Hey, there. Where’s the food?”
“Are you addressing me, Ambassador?” the clone responded coldly. “I do not find your stereotype of my species as low-level service workers to be amusing.”
“Ambassador Gem,” the Crute greeted her. “Congratulations on your new appointment and thank you for responding to my invitation. There’s an opening for committee chair if you’re interested.”
“Fat chance,” the clone responded, taking the empty seat on Kelly’s left. “Speaking of catering, where is it?”
“Ah, yes. About that,” the Dollnick ambassador mumbled, looking a bit embarrassed. “I’m sure that some of you noticed that none of my staff are present today, and…”
“Are you pulling another ‘Princely Fast Day’ on us, Crute?” Bork demanded.
“In commemoration of the failed attempt to create a megastructure around the dwarf star Dinkel Three,” the Dollnick ambassador explained. “A terrible loss of life and construction equipment.”
“But you’re the one who set the date for this meeting,” Czeros objected.
“The fast day is why I had an opening in my schedule,” Crute explained, spreading all four of his arms in a gesture of innocence.
“He’s fasting so we don’t get any food?” the Gem ambassador asked incredulously. “The only reason I accepted this job was because I wanted to feel what it would be like to have somebody to wait on me for a change.”
“In honor of our Dollnick colleague’s sacrifice in hosting this meeting on a day of mourning, I motion he be appointed permanent chair of this committee,” Czeros suggested vindictively.
“Second the motion,” the Gem affirmed without hesitation.
“Third,” Ortha spoke at almost the same instant.
“All in favor?” Czeros raised his hand in answer to his own query, and every other two-armed ambassador present did the same.
“It’s not too late to order out,” Crute offered desperately, but he was met with stony silence. The giant Dollnick scowled at the others, then resignedly activated the boost mechanism on his chair, raising it above the level of the others in a token of his accepting the chairmanship. “I call this meeting of the latest committee foisted upon us by the Stryx to order. Has anybody made progress in determining what the lords of the tunnel network really want from us this time?”
“Our archivist has unearthed two previous demands to curtail piracy,” the Grenouthian announced. “In the first instance, an immediate reduction of fifty percent in pirate vessels and a cap on recruitment at the subsequent replacement level was deemed sufficient. All of the tunnel network members kicked in for severance packages, and the species most involved,” here the bunny paused and glanced at Czeros, “arranged for pensions for the elder members of their species who were thrown out of work.”
“Don’t know what you’re on about,” the Frunge ambassador mumbled, looking down at his hands.
“The prior intervention, taking place some two million years ago, involved an enterprising prince of the four-armed variety, who brought the same organizational talents to freebooting as his species currently applies to large engineering projects,” the Grenouthian continued. “A ninety percent reduction in criminal activity was recorded when the Dollnick portion of the pirate forces accepted incentives to enter the space construction subcontracting business. I believe Prince Kuerda traces his family back to the Pirate Prince.”
“The same Kuerda who won the contract for terraforming Venus?” Kelly asked.
Crute shrugged. “Ancient history.”
“Our own archives include mention of a prior intervention, dating back some four million years,” the Verlock ambassador added. “It seems that a fleet of Grenouthian…”
“I think we’ve spent enough time discussing precedents,” the Grenouthian ambassador interrupted his slow-spoken colleague. “In both instances, the Stryx settled for a substantial reduction in the baseline level of piracy, coupled with a mechanism to prevent it from springing right back. In one case, the follow-up involved buying off a part of the pirate population, in the other, steering the pirates into gainful employment. Perhaps our Horten colleague has some ideas on this subject?”
Ortha was apparently prepared for this question because he immediately launched into his response. “I’ve opened a channel of communications with the primary piracy organization, and some of you have already met the advocate they retained to represent their side at the upcoming public hearing. The pirates are open to negotiating a reduction in activity…”
“And not getting wiped out,” Abeva inserted when Ortha paused for effe
ct.
“But they demand that certain traditional prerogatives be respected. They also wish the record to show the role they have played in absorbing refugees from authoritarian regimes, such as the recent influx from the collapsing Gem Empire, and their restraint in dealing with the territorial incursions of less advanced species who don’t know any better,” the Horten ambassador concluded, making a casual hand motion that seemed to indicate the EarthCent ambassador.
“Let’s keep this short so those of us who aren’t fasting can get something to eat,” Bork suggested. “We’re talking about a reduction of between fifty to seventy percent in organized activity, along with a plausible reemployment program for the pirates who draw the short straw.”
“All of my sisters are welcome to return home, but if there is to be a compensation package, I will advise them to hold out for whatever their compatriots receive,” the Gem ambassador announced. “It’s only fair.”
“If Ambassador Ortha can provide me with the current employment rolls for the pirates, showing ranks and time of service, I shall have my staff prepare an array of options, along with the associated costs,” Srythlan offered.
“Did we just reach some sort of agreement?” Kelly asked. “What about the hearings? We have several victims of piracy waiting to testify.”
“I see no reason to cancel the hearings,” Crute said, taking his revenge on the Horten ambassador for participating in the motion to make the Dollnick accept the committee chairmanship. “Due to ongoing time constraints, I decree that our next gathering take place concurrently with the previously scheduled meeting to discuss our recommendation to the Stryx on the Human review issue. I’m sure the EarthCent ambassador won’t mind stepping out in the corridor at the appropriate time.”
“When is that?” Kelly asked, but she was drowned out by the scraping of chairs, as the diplomats who had forgone eating in anticipation of a free meal made a run for the door. A moment later she found herself alone with Ambassador Crute and the slow-moving Verlock, who would need a couple of minutes to make his way out of the embassy. “I didn’t even know you were all meeting to discuss your recommendations to the Stryx,” she tried again.
“I’ll have my secretary send the information to your embassy after the fast,” the Dollnick responded. His body language implied that discussing such mundane details was below him. “It’s bad enough that the Stryx insisted I make room for you on my schedule tomorrow. I’ll be missing part of a presentation on resort planet financing for the sake of your little consciousness-raising session.”
“Why not do it right now?” Kelly offered.
Crute glanced at the Verlock ambassador, who had just reached the end of the table and was shuffling slowly towards the door, after which there was still a corridor and a lobby to traverse before the embassy could be locked up. “Very well,” the Dollnick agreed, and returned to his seat. “The station librarian informs me that I’m…”
“To offer constructive criticism,” Kelly interjected, hoping to steer his remarks away from outright insults. “I thought you might want to discuss human contract laborers on Dollnick worlds, since that’s far and away the most common point of contact between our species.”
“Are you sure you require my presence to solicit my views?” Crute asked sarcastically. “You seem to be quite capable of conducting both sides of the conversation.”
“Sorry, that’s just me. I hope you don’t hold it against humanity. So what do the Dollnicks really think of us?”
Crute hesitated uncharacteristically and mumbled something to himself before answering. “The problem is your conversational style. Humans display a need to talk even when they have nothing of value to add to the discussion. You confuse asking questions with listening, and you don’t differentiate between making thoughtless suggestions and genuine contributions. Prince Kuerda once told me that the terraforming workers on one of his projects are always…”
“Trying to negotiate better terms for an iron-clad contract they’ve already signed?” Kelly interrupted, and then shrank as the giant ambassador glowered at her. “I’m sorry. I was told that Dollnicks find things like that amusing.”
“May I continue?” Crute inquired acerbically. “Prince Kuerda complains that Human workers are always finishing the sentences of their supervisors, and as with your own recent transgressions, they’re always wrong! Do you have any idea how frustrating it is for a construction engineer to be bothered throughout the day with suggestions for changing standard practices that have been tweaked over millions of cycles, and then interrupted with wild guesses every time he tries to explain?”
“It can’t be very…”
“Dollnick managers are chosen for their willingness to listen to feedback from work crews to ensure that the job progresses smoothly and on schedule,” Crute talked over her. “They come up through the ranks and know their jobs inside out. Prince Kuerda has determined that the Dollnicks who work in direct contact with Humans need special training NOT to take the suggestions of their crews seriously. He spoke of a veteran rigging supervisor who had a nervous breakdown after being forced to explain the principle of space elevator operation over and over again to workers who couldn’t or wouldn’t understand what holds the cable taut!”
“I imagine that…”
“I’m not angry about your ignorance,” the Dollnick ambassador continued, the volume of his speech becoming louder and louder. “I’m angry that you refuse to keep it to yourself. Humans, I mean,” he concluded, his voice falling back from the shrill whistle that Kelly’s implant had been unable to fully cancel out with the simultaneous translation.
The EarthCent ambassador waited until she was sure Crute had completed his rant before venturing, “So we talk too much when we should be listening, and we interrupt?”
“There is one other thing—but no, I’d rather not mention it.”
“Thank you for the criticism, Ambassador. Though I might say in our defense that you did accept my suggestion to have this little chat now, rather than waiting for tomorrow,” Kelly pointed out as she rose to her feet.
“THAT’S IT!” the Dollnick trilled. “In the one-in-a-thousand case that your species actually gets something right, you insist on trumpeting the fact like you’ve come up with a solution for damping down unstable stars. I told you so, I told you so,” he cried in imitation, and then, crossing his lower set of arms to make a pillow for his head on the conference table, he placed the hands from his upper set of arms over his ears.
Kelly took the clue and left the room, wondering if fasting made the giant alien cranky.
Fifteen
“Welcome to our anniversary party,” Aisha greeted the Grenouthian producer of her show. She was dressed in her best sari, and with Dorothy’s help, had attired Paul in a fashionable suit. “I’m counting on you to get the rest of the production crew to mingle,” she added, pointing towards the knot of giant bunnies standing apart from the rest of the guests and drinking specially prepared cocktails through novelty straws. “Especially when the dancing starts.”
“I’ll see if anything can be done,” the producer replied noncommittally. He nodded to Paul and hopped off towards the other Grenouthians.
“Mrs. McAllister, Mr. McAllister,” the Horten ambassador greeted the hosts formally. “Allow me to introduce Advocate Jursha, who is staying with my family.”
“I am honored to meet the most famous Human in the galaxy,” Jursha stated, making a formal bow. “I don’t usually go about crashing parties, but when Ortha told me that his son’s band was playing, I couldn’t resist. I understand that the young man has put aside his awful caterwauling style and thuggish presentation to become one of the most in-demand crooners on the station.”
“Weddings, anniversaries, and coming-of-age ceremonies,” the Horten ambassador said. “I wish I had thought of cutting off his allowance years ago, but better late than never.”
“I’m just glad he could fit us into his schedule,” Aisha told the proud
father. “Fortunately, my sister-in-law knows your son from somewhere and was able to convince him.”
“Wait until you see the band’s catering bill,” Paul said to his wife after the Hortens moved past. “Clive, Blythe. Welcome to our anniversary party. Samuel is working the grill with Joe, Vivian, but we’re counting on the two of you to help get the dancing started. You too, Jonah.”
After the expanded Oxford clan chorused their “Happy Anniversary” greetings, Blythe added, “I don’t think you’ve been introduced to Molly and Nigel, Clive’s sister and nephew.”
“Not yet, but Kevin has told us all about you,” Aisha replied, leaning forward and giving Molly a hug. “He’s working with my husband and he’s here practically all the time now.” She lowered her voice and glanced around before adding, “He and Dorothy seem to be hitting it off.”
“Then we should all take up a collection to persuade him to stick around,” Clive observed, before urging his family forward. “Let’s go. We’re holding up the line.”
Aisha spent the next ten minutes greeting dozens of young aliens who were current and former cast members of her show, most of whom were accompanied by parents. The fact that they had all showed up at the same time made her suspicious that they had coordinated their arrivals because they were uncomfortable about attending a human celebration. Aisha had hired the same Gem catering outfit that the Grenouthians used for cast parties, so she was confident that at least the guests wouldn’t go hungry.
After the anniversary couple greeted the last of the show-related aliens, Woojin stepped forward with the Farling doctor by his side. “Lynx made me come because she’s tired of watching me watch her,” he explained. “I didn’t want to leave her alone, but she insisted that nothing is going to happen for another four days.”