“Ever been here before?” Jorge asked, as he and Inez followed Manny into the cold and featureless chamber.
“No. This is new to me.” Jorge couldn’t be sure, but he thought he detected nervousness in the Savant’s electronic voice. “My previous meetings with the Council or its individual members have always been in . . . well, other places.”
Their footsteps echoed softly off the black walls as they walked farther into the room. A faint sigh from behind them; Jorge looked back, saw the door sliding shut. All of a sudden, he felt as if he’d stepped into a trap. No way out . . .
“It’s okay,” Inez murmured, coming up beside him to touch his hand. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”
A reluctant nod as he took a deep breath, tasting the antiseptic flavor of his pack’s air. Whatever happened next, he could only hope that she was right . . .
All of a sudden, they were no longer alone.
The surrounding walls, once empty black glass, now displayed
the images of aliens: not holograms, but nonetheless forms three-dimensional enough that it seemed as if they were silently peering in at them from behind plate-glass windows. Nearly two dozen extraterrestrials, no two of them alike. Jorge recognized a few—a fur-covered, wide-eyed
arsashi
; a four-armed, blue-skinned biped with an elongated skull that he tentatively identified as a
soranta
; an emaciated-looking quadipod that was probably a
kua’tah
—but most were unfamiliar to him, with some so weird that he wouldn’t have even believed that they were sentient creatures if he hadn’t known better.
The High Council of the Talus was all around them, their virtual presence both shocking and humbling at the same time. Jorge realized where they were: a conference room where the aliens could gather to meet with aliens—he and his companions, in this case—whose environments were unlike their own. Yet if this were so, then why was it that the room hadn’t been furnished with an atmosphere suitable for humans?
Jorge was about to ask Manny about this when the answer became apparent. The keyhole door split apart at the center, allowing a
hjadd
to enter the room. Slightly shorter than a human, heshe somewhat resembled a tortoise that lacked a shell and walked upright on two stumpy legs, but with a fin rising from the top of hisher sloping skull. The alien wore the iridescent, togalike garment favored by hisher kind, and as heshe walked toward them, hisher slitted eyes moved independently of each other, as if examining the three humans before himher.
“Greetings, and welcome to
Talus qua’spah
.” When heshe spoke, they heard two languages at once: the hissing, almost reptilian tones of hisher own voice, and Anglo, coming from the pronglike translation device heshe wore against hisher lipless mouth. Heshe formally raised hisher left hand, six webbed fingers spread apart, as a gesture of goodwill. “I am Jasahajahd Taf Sa-Fhadda, First Speaker of the High Council. For purposes of conversation, you may call me Taf Sa-Fhadda, or First Speaker.”
When heshe said this, Jorge immediately knew who heshe was. Many years ago, Jasahajahd Taf Sa-Fhadda had come to Coyote as the
hjadd’s
Cultural Ambassador, a role intended to help humankind better understand the aliens who’d recently built an embassy on their world. Yet Taf had done far more than that; upon arrival at the New Brighton spaceport, heshe had given a
Sa’Tong-tas
to the young customs inspector who, along with Jorge’s grandfather, had come out to greet himher. That person was Hawk Thompson; the rest was history.
Jorge was unaware that Taf had since returned to Rho Coronae Borealis, or that heshe had apparently been promoted to a more senior diplomatic position. Which was not surprising; even after all these years, the
hjadd
on Coyote still kept to themselves, although they’d continued to maintain their embassy in Liberty. So while it was surprising that Taf would be there today, it nevertheless made sense; not only did heshe have previous experience with humans, but heshe had known Hawk Thompson before he’d become the
chaaz’maha
.
“Greetings, First Speaker Taf Sa-Fhadda.” Manny returned the gesture, his four-fingered claw appearing from beneath his black robe. “I am Manuel Castro, diplomatic liaison of the Coyote Federation to the Talus.” No doubt this was only a formality; Jorge knew that Manny was no stranger to either Taf or the Council. The Savant extended the same hand toward him and Inez. “Allow me to introduce my companions . . . Jorge Montero, an officer in the Coyote Federation Corps of Exploration, and Inez Sanchez, also a member of the Corps.”
As he spoke, Jorge was aware of subtle movements from the aliens observing them: heads moving back and forth, or weaving to and fro; mandibles silently clicking; pinchers, paws, or tentacles making discreet motions. He could hear nothing from them, but he assumed that the Council members were receiving translations of the conversation, and these little movements were the equivalent of nodding, perhaps even a smile or two. Or so he hoped.
“Welcome, Jorge Montero and Inez Sanchez.” Facing each of them in turn, Taf repeated the same left-handed gesture. Inez reacted before Jorge did, raising her left hand and making a slight bow; Jorge hastened to do the same. “What matter do you wish to bring to the attention of the High Council?”
Manny didn’t say anything. Instead, he half turned toward Jorge. His face was incapable of human expression, yet Jorge was suddenly aware that he was being called upon to speak. Jorge hadn’t expected this; his face grew warm, and for an instant he was tongue-tied. There was no way out of this, though. The time had come for him to address the Council.
“Umm . . . ah, yes, thank you, First Speaker, and . . . uh, other members of the High Council.” He hesitated, praying that he hadn’t committed a faux pas. He had to assume that his words were being translated by some hidden device within the room; otherwise, everything he said would be nothing but babble. The
hjadd
continued to regard him with expectant eyes, and Manny gave him a small nod of encouragement. “I have come here today . . . that is, we have, Inez and I . . . to request the permission of the Council to take an expedition to Earth, in order to find a member of our race whom we believe to be there. This person is . . .”
“My father, Hawk Thompson, the
chaaz’maha
of humankind.” Inez took a step forward, addressing both Taf and the aliens around them. “We’ve lately received news indicating that, contrary to our previous belief, he is still alive and somewhere on Earth. Jorge and I belong to his family, and we therefore request permission to return to our homeworld in order to find him and bring him back to Coyote.”
At first, Jorge was annoyed by the interruption, until he realized that Inez was far better suited to address the Council than he was. There was no reticence in her manner or voice; when she spoke, it was with utter self-confidence, almost as if she’d been practicing for this moment. And perhaps she had, if only in her imagination. After all, Manny had warned her that the Council would be more interested in her than Jorge; she’d waited until her second cousin had broken the ice, then come forth to take the lead.
“This is quite interesting indeed.” Taf’s right eye twitched toward her as hisher hands folded together within the bell sleeves of hisher toga. “I met your father, if only very briefly, when I made a gift of a
Sa’Tong-tas
to him.”
“I am aware of this, First Speaker . . . and on behalf of the members of my race who’ve embraced its wisdom, I thank you.” Clasping her hands together, Inez bowed again, holding it for a little longer this time. “I never knew the
chaaz’maha
myself. I was only a few days old when he was presumed to have been killed. For this, I envy you.”
The
hjadd’s
fin rose a little higher, and heshe uttered a stuttering hiss that Jorge thought might be a sign of irritation. “You honor me, daughter of a
chaaz’maha
. Yet I’m still confused why neither myself, in my former role as an emissary to your race, nor this Council as a whole, as fellow disciples of
Sa’Tong
, was ever informed that the
chaaz’maha
of your race had a child. Why was this knowledge kept from us until now?”
This time, it was Manny who answered the question. “As you and the Council doubtless recall, our
chaaz’maha
was aboard a starship that was destroyed by a bomb while en route to Earth. Although the person who set off the bomb was also aboard the same vessel, for a long time it was unknown whether he acted alone. The
chaaz’maha’s
family . . . that is, his partner and a few of his relatives and friends . . . decided that, in order to keep his daughter safe from any other enemies, her existence should be kept a closely guarded secret.”
“I . . .” Jorge nervously cleared his throat. “Pardon me. I wasn’t aware that Inez was a relative . . . that is, my second cousin . . . until only a few days ago. Until then, she was only a friend who happened to be serving with me in our Corps of . . .”
“I understand now,” Taf said, cutting him off. “Thank you, Jorge Montero and Manuel Castro, for your explanations.” Heshe seemed to disregard both him and Manny as heshe returned hisher attention to Inez. “However, this raises another question. I respect the fact that the human
chaaz’maha
is your father and that you wish to find him . . . and yet your companions admit that he was parted from you by a violent deed performed by a member of your own race. Indeed, it was for this very reason that the Council has forbidden the inhabitants of Coyote from having further contact with Earth. Therefore, why should we allow you to visit your homeworld, when there is precedent to suggest that such contact may present a hazard not only to your own kind but also the other races of the galaxy?”
Inez was ready with an answer. “Because the other races of the galaxy . . . those who have adopted
Sa’Tong
as their spiritual philosophy, that is . . . each have their own
chaaz’maha
. Ours was taken from us. We thought he was dead, but now that it turns out he’s alive, it’s important for us to find him.” She paused, then added, “Besides, he’s also my father. I wish to meet him. That’s why I volunteered for this expedition.”
Taf’s head rose slightly upon hisher neck. “Neither is a sufficient reason. Other races have lost their
chaaz’maha
, some quite long ago, and have continued their practice of
Sa’Tong
despite the absence of a teacher. By much the same token, while I respect your desire to be reunited with your father, bear in mind that many races don’t put as much stock in knowing their parents as humans do. For example, the
soranta
are parted from their parents shortly after birth and raised by their communities, while the
danui
lay their eggs as far from home as possible and never think about them again. Humans are among the minority of races who actually care for their offspring long after they’re born.”
Inez started to reply, but Manny raised a hand. “All this is true, First Speaker, yet in asserting this, aren’t you also denying humans the right to conduct their own affairs as they see fit? If so, then you’re violating one of the main principles upon which the Talus was formed . . . tolerance for the customs and traditions of all races, regardless of how strange they may seem.”
Taf didn’t respond at once. Instead, hisher head cocked to one side, as if listening to a voice only heshe could hear. From the corner of his eye, Jorge noticed small, discreet movements from the Council members. Apparently Manny had scored points with that last comment, for the aliens appeared to be discussing it among themselves.
“The issue you have raised is valid,” Taf said after a few moments. “However, the fact remains that Earth has caused numerous problems for its colony world. Your own history is testament to this. If the starbridge were to be reopened to Earth, for whatever reason, then there is a danger that the same thing could happen again. And this time . . .”
Heshe was interrupted by a loud, abrupt
bong!
that echoed through the chamber, as if an unseen bell had just tolled. Taf’s fin rose to its full height; hisher throat sacs inflated, and hisher eyes widened. The First Speaker had obviously been startled by the sudden sound, and when Jorge glanced at the walls, it seemed to him as if the other Council members were similarly taken aback. Taf didn’t continue what heshe was saying, but again cocked hisher head to listen to something.
“What’s going on?” he whispered to Manny. “Why did he . . . ?”
“Hush.” The Savant didn’t look at him, yet his voice was so low, Jorge could barely hear it. “Whatever happens next, don’t say anything. Understood?”
Bewildered, Jorge quickly nodded as Taf turned toward them. “I have been informed that another individual wishes to attend this meeting,” heshe said. A pause, then hisher eyes swiveled toward Inez. “He wishes to speak to you personally, here in this chamber. Is that acceptable?”
Inez hesitated. “Who? I don’t . . . I mean . . .”
“Don’t ask,” Manny murmured. “Just say yes.”
“Yes.” She reluctantly nodded. “That is acceptable.”
Taf’s head swung back and forth, the
hjadd
affirmative, then stepped aside. “By your grace, then . . . please welcome the
chaaz’braan
.”
Again, the keyhole door bisected, this time to allow the arrival of
an extraterrestrial unlike any other attending the meeting. Slightly taller than a human, swaddled in a brightly colored robe whose elegantly brocaded train dragged across the floor behind him, the alien faintly resembled an enormous, bipedal bullfrog, a once-commonplace Earth creature that Jorge had seen only in pictures. Fleshy jowls hung from either side of a broad, thick-lipped mouth, while two eyes—one of which was half-shut and slightly askew—glittered deep within an enormous head whose white hair was thin and sparse. As the alien slowly walked into the silent room, shoulders hunched forward as he rested his weight upon the staff in his right hand, Jorge was given the impression of great age. This being was very old, perhaps by a matter of centuries.