by E. M. Foner
“Ah, a native of Fillinduck,” Dring identified the hologram. “If you meet one, try to avoid letting it touch you with its appendages unless you see it’s dragging a length of copper cable like a tail. They tend to build up large static charges in a low humidity atmosphere if not properly grounded.”
“Fillinduck! I almost had it,” Kelly declared, though in truth she had been drawing a complete blank. “And may I ask where you’re from, Dring, and if the embassy can be of any service?”
“My people have wandered the stars for so long that we’ve lost the name of our home world. Some of my peers even claim it’s a myth. My own studies indicate that our world suffered some calamity that made it inhospitable and we were forced to flee. But that’s based on an analysis of ancient poetry, which only exists in fragmentary form,” Dring said apologetically.
“But surely you have a name for yourselves,” Kelly pressed the chubby little dinosaur for an answer.
“Human?” Dring responded.
“Yes, I’m human. And you are?” Kelly spoke this last bit slowly, complete with pointing at her own chest and then at his, as if talking to a child.
“Human?” Dring repeated. “I don’t know another word in your language to substitute.”
“Oh, I understand. It’s a translation issue,” Kelly said, relieved that she had found a way out of the circular discussion. “Yes, I can see why any alien, I mean, sentient species, would call itself human in English. But my translation implant always renders it into the proper word, I mean, the word I would recognize. Maybe the implant has trouble with your language, though it is the diplomatic grade provided by the Stryx.”
“But I’m speaking English,” Dring protested. “I hope my pronunciation isn’t so bad that it needs to be translated for you.”
Kelly sat up straighter in surprise. “You speak English? Who learns English? I’ve been told that nobody else gets our literature and language arts, and that we just don’t make sense, even in translation.”
“Your books and your poetry are precisely what I wanted to meet you about. I’ve been tapping into your entertainment transmissions over the Stryxnet for some time now, that’s how I learned your language. I see that many of your best entertainments are based upon a book, but I’ve never come across a full text being broadcast.”
“I can get you whatever you want,” Kelly told the self-identified human. “I brought a whole library with me in digital format, and I even have a collection of reprinted paper books you could borrow from, as long as you don’t leave Mac’s with them,” she hastened to add. “I mean, you can take one, and when you return it, you can take another. It’s kind of traditional on space stations.”
“That’s very generous of you. Any system you choose is fine by me. I don’t want to take any more of your time while you’re working, but if I could stop by the house this evening to access your library and borrow a real book, I’ll be in your debt.”
He called the ice harvester a house, Kelly mused, after saying goodbye to the friendly creature.
Six
Kelly took the lacquered wood hair pin and stabbed it into the mass of red hair she had piled high on her head, but the whole construction came tumbling down as soon as she moved. “So much for being a fashion model,” she muttered darkly at the mirror, and began plaiting a braid she could coil up and pin instead.
The InstaSitter showed up in the living room a few minutes early, so Joe introduced the girl to Dorothy and showed her where to find everything. When Kelly came out of the bedroom, she glanced at her faux-mechanical wristwatch and realized they were going to have to run to be in time for the private Drazen dinner party.
“Come here, my Honeybunch,” she called Dorothy, and gave her a kiss. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Could Mommy take just one little bite?”
Dorothy squealed with pretend fear and ran to hide behind the babysitter’s legs.
“You’re safe until we get home. But then I’m going to eat you right up.”
“Eat me right up,” Dorothy repeated with glee, as the babysitter looked at Joe uncertainly.
“You take good care of my little midnight snack,” Kelly told the girl with a wink. “And no parties. We’ll be back in four hours at the latest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the sitter responded politely, though Kelly thought she looked a little nervous.
“Come on, Kel. I covered everything with Tinka while you were getting ready,” Joe told Kelly, and gave her a push towards the door. In Joe’s mind, the sooner they left, the sooner they would get home. He had yet to attend an alien diplomatic function that served beer worth drinking, though he did enjoy turning off his translation implant and listening for languages that he knew, or at least, recognized.
“Bye, bye, Sweetie Pie,” Kelly called, and drew back her lips in a few exaggerated chomping motions as Joe dragged her out the door. Dorothy clung to Tinka’s legs and shrieked in pleasure.
The EarthCent ambassador and her husband followed the Drazen ambassador’s directions to his home, where Libby had suggested they meet unofficially to avoid arousing the jealousy of a hundred other species vying for Earth’s newfound wealth. The atmosphere in the Drazen sections of the station was close enough to Earth normal that nose filters weren’t required, and Drazens had always made themselves at home in the human entertainment district.
An attractive young woman who turned out to be the ambassador’s daughter greeted them at the door. She led them into a modest dining room, where the table was spread with take-out containers from various Little Apple restaurants. It smelled like barbeque, and Joe began to salivate.
“Welcome to our home, honored guests,” the Drazen ambassador greeted the human couple. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Shinka, and my daughter, Minka.” The three Drazens bowed jauntily, comfortable with their traditional customs but not getting carried away. Kelly introduced Joe to Ambassador Bork, after which their Drazen hostess insisted that eating comes before business. Without further ado, they all sat down at the table and dug in.
“I noticed that your name and your daughter’s name sound very similar,” Kelly remarked to Shinka between bites of sushi and french fries, a combination she had never encountered in a restaurant. “I recall now that our babysitter’s name is Tinka. Is it just a coincidence?”
Shinka looked slightly uncomfortable, as if the question had been inappropriate. Then her eyes lit up and she whistled a little tune. Minka whistled something in harmony, and both women looked quite pleased.
“I believe your translation implant is taking some liberties with our names,” she informed Kelly. “All Drazen women call ourselves by a series of musical notes that establish our heritage and family position. If the translation I received back is correct, we were identified to you as being named “Mother,” and “Daughter,” which I can assure you are just prefixes. Your babysitter’s name was translated, “Younger Daughter,” which means she has older siblings, but it wouldn’t be enough to ask for her in a room with other Drazens. Do you understand?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve only met male Drazens to this point and their names seem to be unrelated, so it hadn’t come up before.”
“Drazen males are named whatever,” Shinka explained to Kelly casually. “Just so they know to come when we call them.”
The Drazen ambassador choked on the chicken finger he was eating and began slapping himself on the back with his tentacle, but he didn’t contradict his wife. Joe slid him a bottle of imported beer from the unexpected six-pack that had been placed on the table like a centerpiece, and the Drazen responded with a head nod. The men continued eating in silence, while the wives, in their newfound intimacy, began comparing notes on teenagers and puberty, at which point Minka made a hasty apology and fled the room.
When the beer was finished, Joe leaned back from the table in deep contentment and began the struggle not to fall asleep. Fortunately, Kelly remembered her diplomatic duties and asked her counterpart what she could do for him.
; “I’ll get right to the point,” the ambassador said. “Somebody on your home world is raking it in, and the local Drazen business community is always looking for new capital infusions. I’ve told them that you humans aren’t at all xenophobic when it comes to business, but they are pushing me to obtain special EarthCent trading credentials for them.”
“We’re happy to oblige,” Kelly told him, and withdrew a sheaf of paper documents, all embossed with the green EarthCent seal. “My, uh, staff thought that these might solve your problem, but we’d appreciate if you can keep it quiet until after our Earth Exposition this coming Friday. Is there anything else?”
Ambassador Bork eagerly flipped through the impressive looking stack of credentials, which were printed on special EarthCent letterhead bond paper originally intended for vaccination certificates.
The original exodus of humans after the Stryx first contact had attracted hordes of unskilled laborers from the poorest countries, a few of whom carried with them the seeds of diseases that had been wiped out in the wealthier countries. Fortunately, a combination of advanced medical technology and spaceport health screening equipment had rendered the vaccination certificates obsolete almost immediately, leaving EarthCent with a mountain of official looking paper that had no practical use. A bright intern had hit on the idea of distributing the paper among the far-flung embassies in order free up space at the main office.
“These will do very nicely,” Bork declared. “Thank you. Now the only item remaining on the agenda is to discuss a military alliance between our peoples.”
Joe snapped out of his fast food and beer coma at the ambassador’s matter-of-fact declaration, and looked to his wife to see how she would respond. Kelly was utterly floored, and she was trying to decide whether to contact Libby for advice when the Drazen ambassador’s daughter returned to the room. Her tentacle was erect behind her head and twitching erratically, a sure sign of emotional distress, and she whispered urgently to her mother. The ambassador’s wife immediately rose to her feet.
“Thank you very much for coming,” Shinka announced abruptly. “It was very nice meeting you and I hope you come again. But you really need to be getting home.”
Kelly and Joe rose reflexively. The Drazen ambassador fixed his wife with an inquisitive gaze, trying to read her mind, but he said nothing in objection.
“You’re very welcome,” Kelly offered uncertainly. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” Shinka insisted as she ushered them rapidly to the door. “You have nothing to worry about now, but you really need to go home. The sooner the better.”
On their way to the tube lift, Joe and Kelly speculated about what could possibly have been so important to cause the ambassador’s wife to terminate the dinner party in the middle of an unprecedented offer of a military alliance, especially considering that Earth lacked a star fleet. Kelly assumed it was a problem with the daughter, since she had looked so embarrassed when whispering to her mother, but Joe was betting that the girl had relayed urgent instructions from the Drazen home world.
Beowulf was waiting near the entrance of Mac’s Bones to greet them when they got home, and if Kelly wasn’t mistaken, the dog’s face wore an expression that looked like he was anticipating some special amusement. Joe decided to take a walk around the hold to check on the Raider/Trader players and stop by Dring’s. Breaking with years of tradition, Beowulf chose to follow Kelly instead of Joe. Kelly’s eyes opened wide when she saw Donna and Chastity standing in the door of the ice harvester, but Dorothy was right there behind them, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement.
“What’s going on?” Kelly asked. “What happened to the sitter?”
“Tinka want to rescue me,” Dorothy reported proudly.
“Sit down, sit down,” Donna said, leading Kelly into the living room. “I can’t believe you’re back so early. Did everything go alright?”
“Yes and no,” Kelly replied, studying all the suspiciously grinning faces. The presence of Jeeves without Paul tipped her off that something unusual was afoot, but she decided to carry on as if she hadn’t noticed. “It was a diplomatic success, I guess, but something happened and the ambassador’s wife basically shooed us out the door all of a sudden. I think she was embarrassed.”
“And she didn’t say anything about a certain request for asylum?” Donna asked, struggling to choke back her laughter.
“No,” Kelly answered sharply, frustrated by the unexpected collection of guests and the undercurrent of mirth in the room. “What’s this all about?”
“Eat me up,” Dorothy squealed happily, and threw herself at her mother’s legs. Kelly almost fell off her heels with the suddenness of the attack, but she quickly recovered and, picking up the squirming girl, turned to Chastity for answers.
“Did something go wrong with the girl you sent?” she demanded from the fifteen-year-old co-owner of InstaSitter.
“The system worked perfectly,” Chastity answered with a show of dignity, and then she lapsed back into giggles. “Our sitter reported a case of a parent threatening a child and requested a supervisor to come and take Dorothy into custody.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Kelly protested. “Joe would never threaten our daughter.”
“It wasn’t Joe, it was you,” Donna couldn’t help herself from interjecting. “Apparently, you thought the Drazen girl wouldn’t see through your cannibalistic intentions.”
“Cannibalistic!” Kelly was stunned.
“Eat me up, eat me up,” Dorothy chanted in her ear, and the truth began to dawn on Kelly.
“Tinka was so upset by the time I got here that she wouldn’t leave Dorothy in my custody, even though I brought mom along,” Chastity explained. “She even called the Drazen embassy to request emergency asylum for Dorothy, but for some reason they turned her down. We had to get Libby to send Jeeves, because Tinka wouldn’t leave Dorothy alone with humans. She’s very responsible.”
Jeeves moved forward and contributed his part to the story. “The babysitter questioned your daughter carefully and recorded the interview through her implant before contacting InstaSitter. Dorothy repeatedly confirmed your intention to eat her. It’s really an amusing video,” he added dryly, as Dorothy beamed at being the center of so much attention.
“Tinka insisted on filling out an official InstaSitter complaint, even after Jeeves explained your strange behavior to her, so I’m afraid you’re on our watch list now. You can still get sitters, but you have to agree to Stryx monitoring. Uh, there’s an extra thirty centee per hour surcharge,” Chastity wrapped up apologetically.
“Libby watches me!” Dorothy said, nodding happily.
“So all’s well that ends well,” Donna concluded. Then she gave Dorothy kiss and spared a look of pity for the stunned speechless Kelly before pushing her daughter towards the door. “Let’s go, Chastity. I think Aunty Kelly has had enough humiliation for the night to keep her diplomatic ego in check for a while. See you at the office.”
“I officially release Dorothy into your custody,” Jeeves intoned, then zipped out the door before Kelly could put her daughter down and find something to throw at the speedy Stryx. The EarthCent ambassador stood fuming, looking for somebody to take out her frustration on, but despite his knowing grin and lolling tongue, she wisely kept Beowulf off limits for target practice.
It took two bedtime stories to counteract the excitement of the evening enough for Dorothy to fall asleep, by which point Kelly found she had calmed herself as well. Other than looking silly in front of the Drazen ambassador’s wife, who had obviously been tipped off to the babysitter’s asylum request for Dorothy, there’s no harm done, she reflected. Embarrassing cultural misunderstandings were part and parcel of the diplomatic life. But she wasn’t too happy about Libby not giving her a heads-up as to what was going on, probably due to Jeeves interfering for the sake of a good show.
“Where did everybody go, Kel?” Joe asked, returning from his stroll around the hold. Kelly immediately
realized he was completely in the dark about the cannibalism allegation and decided to try to keep it that way.
“They were just here to pitch a special new program InstaSitter is trying out. For a few centees an hour extra, Libby keeps an eye on the babysitters for us. Isn’t that great?” she lied smoothly. It turned out that twenty years of diplomatic service hadn’t gone completely to waste after all.
Seven
Laurel banged on the table with a ladle to get the attention of her crew, most of whom were classmates from the all-species culinary college she attended. Her long hair was piled up and hidden beneath a floppy white chef’s hat, and she wore a clean white lab coat over her clothes, just to help everybody remember who was in charge. They had already set out twenty-five folding tables with white tablecloths and close to two hundred folding chairs. She was a little nervous as she had never catered a war before, though Paul assured her it was more of a police action.
“They’ll be coming out of their ships in twenty minutes, so get those grills cranked up. Dinka and Hort, you make sure there are two full sets of condiments on every table. I’ll be working the main line with Zella, and Tosh is going to handle the deep fryer. We’ve done this before, people. There are just more of them today. Oh, and don’t start feeding the dog or he’ll never leave you alone,” she concluded, pointing her ladle at Beowulf.
Beowulf gave her an injured look and began vigorously scratching an ear, part of his “I’m just a poor dog in a cruel galaxy” act. But from his vantage point in the doorway of the ice harvester, he had an excellent view of the five-by-five grid of tables, and was just waiting for the hungry gamers to emerge from their ships. If the rush for food and a seat didn’t result in a few players dropping their over-loaded plates, it would be child’s play for the retired war dog to arrange for an accident.
