Authors: Alan Dean Foster
Feathery antennae waved at her. “Not all are of like mind,” he reminded her somberly. “In our mutual racial immaturity, there still exist those who seemingly employ no mind at all.”
They were quiet for a while then, each lost in thought, contemplating a future neither of them could have anticipated when they were young. Around them, a few other individuals and couples strolled, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the park, the additional moisture diffused into the already saturated air by the twin falls, and the free-roaming native fauna. Below their feet, an immense, vibrant metropolis pulsed and surged with the activities of tens of millions of intelligent beings, very few of whom were aware of the issues of great import that were being decided by a comparatively small number of their own kind and a comparable group of soft-skinned, fleshy, flexible-skinned mammalian bipeds from a planet whose modest star was but one of thousands visible in the night sky.
“I am most concerned of all,” Haflunormet finally murmured after the long silence, “about the possibility of violence.”
Anjou sighed heavily. “I also. I don’t know much about your radicals, but among my kind, both on Earth and at least two of her major colonies, there are known groups of hotheads who’ll do anything to prevent a deeper, more singular relationship from developing between a ‘blinded’ humankind and a race of ‘bugs.’ We both know the specific incidents that have already occurred.” Kneeling, she ran a hand through turquoise water, stirring memories of motherworld sky. “It’s the groups we don’t know about and therefore cannot keep track of that have me worried.”
“It’s easier for us.” He crouched to join her, bending all four trulegs beneath him. “We are more organized than you, and so it is harder for splinter organizations to form. Nonconformist individuals, however, are another matter.”
“If only they were all like Ryozenzuzex, or Desvendapur.”
He whistled soft laughter. “You speak of exceptional thranx. I could as soon cite the intervention of noteworthy humans. Strange, is it not, how history imprints itself so similarly on different minds?”
She put a comforting arm around his b-thorax. They stared at the rippling waters together. “ ‘Intelligence and sentience share the same shape, and ignorance is its own reward.’ “
His head swiveled to regard her thoughtfully. “I had not heard it put quite that way before.”
She shrugged. “I’m quoting one of the wild new religious orders. This particular one is fond of propounding a lot of irreverent maxims. You know the type: They try to explain life and the meaning of everything in one sentence or less. It’s almost frivolous, yet oddly engaging.” She straightened. “An intellectual diversion. A friend back at Azerick passed the information on to me. This lot seems to be the spiritual flavor-of-the-moment.”
“They seem to be well scribed. I would not mind skimming a little more of their oratory myself. I could use some fresh entertainment. Do you think it will last?”
“What, this ‘United Church’ bunch?” She replied with confidence and the knowledge that history was on her side. “They never do.”
It was dark by the time she returned to her lodgings. Sealing the door behind her, she walked to the window and gazed out at the surrounding jungle. Transported directly to such a room without first transiting the city, no traveler eying the verdant panorama could imagine that a nonhuman megalopolis of tens of millions toiled and thrived beneath the surface. Like all other thranx hives, Daret never slept. Accustomed to and comfortable with life beneath the ground, day and night were discretional terms dictated only by classical thranx custom. As such, their internal biological clocks were far more flexible than those of humans, being unaffected by the presence or absence of daylight.
Fanielle was not thranx, however. Tired as she was, she was tempted to go down with the sun. Contemplating the view, she considered opening the window to let in fresh air and the night sounds of the alien rain forest. As that would have meant trading the delightfully cool, drier atmosphere maintained by the room for the hot, muggy air outside, she decided against it.
A bath, then, followed by perusal of her private notes, and a good night’s rest. The meeting with Haflunormet had gone well. If their mutual friend arrived in good order and on time tomorrow, she would have accomplished all she had come for. Then she could embark sincerely upon the aboveboard portion of her vacation.
“Sso very green, thiss world.
Jississt,
I do find it sso.”
She did not scream because her lungs were too busy sucking in her breath. By the time she had whirled and focused on her unexpected visitor, that instinctive urge had left her. Given her quarters’ special soundproofing attributes, characteristic of every individual room in the establishment, it was moot whether anyone would have heard her anyway.
Baron Preed NNXV made no attempt to conceal himself. He had been standing by the entrance to the hygienic facilities. Engrossed in the view beyond the plasticine transparency, she had walked right past him.
“I am ssorry.” He took a stride toward her. “Did I sstartle you?”
She took an equivalent step back, acutely aware that if the tentative dance were to continue, she would be the one to eventually run out of maneuvering room. The AAnn was not between her and the door, nor did he give any indication of attempting to block her exit. But the reptiloids could move very fast. She decided to save the proverbial mad dash to safety for a last resort.
His tone, if not his presence, was apologetic. As apologetic as an AAnn could manage, she decided.
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get into my room?”
She tracked him warily as he sidled slowly to his left—and sat down on the bed. The juxtaposition was openly ludicrous: Had he been a human male, her anxiety level would have gone up. The end of his tail flicked against one of the two pillows, which she then and there irrationally determined not to use for sleeping. The AAnn might be a pugnacious species, even as treacherous as Haflunormet and his hive mates claimed, but they were exceedingly clean in their personal habits.
“I have been unable to esscape the feeling that our previouss encounter went badly, and ever ssince have ssought a meanss by which I might redress any lingering awkwardnesses.” Reaching up, he scratched at an exfoliating neck scale with the index claw of his right hand. “When I went looking for you to requesst a ssecond meeting, I learned that you had departed the compound at Azerick.”
“Not through the usual channels, you didn’t.” Willing herself to relax, she found that her muscles remained tight. Her specialist training proved unequal to the task of countering the atavistic urge to retreat in the face of subdued lighting, sharp teeth, and long claws—even though the latter belonged to an educated, multilingual member of another species’ diplomatic corps.
“Truly.” The acknowledgment was accompanied by a second-degree indication of recognition tempered with irony. The subtleties of the gesture were lost on Fanielle. “It wass not difficult to learn where you had gone.” He indicated her lodgings, a hand movement sufficiently obvious that it needed no translation.
“Or to bribe or force your way into my private quarters, evidently.” Along with the fear, some of her initial fury was beginning to fade. That did not lead her to unbend, or to relax her vigilance for a moment. She could not see a weapon or other threatening device, but their visual absence was hardly conclusive. The diplomat wore a standard-issue vest replete with pockets over the usual loose-fitting swirls of feathery opaque material, sandals, and muted tail makeup. Small pockets could conceal large surprises.
“Tsstt,”
he admonished her. “I did no more than bend a few housse ruless, not break them.” There was nothing reassuring in the diplomat’s expression. “That iss no more than the nature of our profession, iss it not?”
She strove to establish some sort of command of the situation. “Good old Jorge. I knew that he favored the AAnn above the thranx, but I never dreamed—”
“Do not be too hard on your colleague.” The smile widened. Sophisticated and educated or not, the envoy’s teeth were very pointed, and very sharp. “He iss compossed of lesser material than yoursself, and iss ssubject to flattery and manipulation.”
“Don’t think you’re going to escape the consequences of this break-in with flattery,” she warned him.
“I have already apologized.” Preed hesitated and gestured simultaneously for emphasis. “For intruding upon your ‘vacation.’ “ The gesticulation that accompanied his pronunciation of the last word was as sharp as it was unmistakable. “A relaxing few dayss in the ssuccoring ressort city of Daret. From what I know of your kind, thiss sstrikess me as a mosst peculiar choice of desstinationss for taking one’ss easse.”
“I’m a peculiar sort of human,” she shot back.
He indicated comprehension. “Peculiaritiess can have their virtuess. I admired your professional and intellectual qualitiess during our previouss meeting. I ssit in praisse of them now. They are why I have gone to ssome painss to meet with you in thiss fasshion.”
She considered. The route to the door remained unbarred, and the envoy was seated with his legs facing in the opposite direction, watching her over his left shoulder. How high could a middle-aged AAnn leap? How fast? She took a couple of casual steps in the direction of the doorway. Preed did not move.
“All right. I won’t call for Security—yet. You certainly have gone to a lot of trouble. Not to mention exposing yourself to possible prosecution, diplomatic immunity notwithstanding. Say what you have to say.”
The AAnn responded with a gesture of unsurpassing elegance. “That iss very politic of you. As I ssaid, I have admired your sskillss from the sstart. It hass therefore been thrice disstressing to me that our earlier encounter ended sso poorly. Even sso, it wass clear to me at the time that you are perhapss immoderately fond of thesse thranx, and thuss inclined to take their sside in all matterss, be they large or small. I would be grateful of the opportunity to assk that you do no more than keep an open mind on the subject where my kind are concerned. Someone of your sself-evident erudition musst perforce be aware that a certain amount of hisstory exisstss between the bugss and my people, and that not all of it iss pleassant. Thiss undersstandably colorss their ssentimentss toward uss.”
Haflunormet was right, she reflected. An accomplished AAnn could make gravel taste like butter. Preed was by far the suavest emissary she had ever encountered, either in person or via tridee.
“Alsso,” he added while she mulled his words, “regardless of your perssonal feelingss toward my kind, or toward me, you should resst assured that I intend you no perssonal harm. Had that been my intention, I could have torn your unprotected flesshy form to sshredss while you sstood unawaress, contemplating the sstinking forest outsside.”
“Or maybe not,” she countered. “In tests comparing the respective physical abilities of different sentient species, humans consistently surpass AAnn in strength.”
His gesture she could not interpret. His words were quietly chilling. “Truly, that iss sso. But the sscales comprissing your epidermal layer are ineffectual in combat, your clawss are frail even when not overly trimmed, and your teeth are dessigned for grinding and biting, not sshearing.” He had the grace, she noted, not to smile when he said this.
“But why sspeak of unpleassantnesses that will not happen? Will you at leasst, in the sspirit of fairness, impart ssome value to my wordss?”
She ought to order him out, she knew—if only to test the veracity of his promise. She ought to make a break for the door, or shout aloud the personal lodging code she had been given at check-in. The room’s sensors would pick it up, relay it to the appropriate station, and Security would arrive on the run. That she did not do this spoke more for an innate sense of tolerance than for any feeling that this emissary or any other could convince her to change her opinion of the thranx or the AAnn.
“All right. In the interests of impartiality, I promise to consider what you’ve said. And as long as you’re here uninvited, why don’t you tell me what else the emperor’s manifold cheerful subjects want from me?”
Either Preed did not detect her sarcasm, or else he tactfully chose to ignore it. With an AAnn, it was always difficult to tell. She really did not expect the envoy to reply at length, much less to provide specifics.
“All the People of the Ssand wissh from humankind and itss coloniess iss a certain degree of resspect.”
Professional interest was beginning to supplement, although it could not entirely replace, her initial fear. “You enjoy full diplomatic relations with us. The Empire is treated on an equal basis with the two other major interstellar powers we know: the thranx and the Quillp.”
“Truly.” Preed gestured acknowledgment. “Yet sstill we feel our petitioningss diminisshed in the ssight of the bugss. We are concerned, and have been from the time of firsst contactss, that your government continuess to favor them above uss.”
For that complaint she had a ready rejoinder. “First of all, you’re wrong. My government, and the average citizen of Earth and its colonies, does not prefer the thranx to the AAnn. Indeed, among many of my kind, the reverse is true. This despite the invaluable aid the thranx rendered to us in the Pitarian War.” Slitted eyes blinked back at her, the double lids adding an oddly feminine fluttering to the action. “You are accorded equal treatment, both formally and otherwise.”
One clawed hand described an intricate succession of curves in the air. She noted that the envoy was wearing no special supplemental attire. The air-conditioning that kept the muggy Hivehom night at bay must be chilling him to the bone. This realization did not upset her. Though she could have done so, she made no move to adjust the temperature.
“Why then have our propossalss to esstablissh reciprocal ssettlementss in your Ssonoran and Ssaharan desertss been refussed? You grant thiss intimate privilege to the thranx but deny it to uss.”
“Truly,” she told him, utilizing the soft AAnn word, “I don’t know. Personally, it strikes me as unfair, and contrary to the spirit of the treaties that exist between our two peoples. But that is only my opinion. As a minor diplomat assigned to this world, I have no voice in the making of policy.”