by E. M. Foner
“Great Expo,” Joe said, materializing behind Kelly and starting to massage her shoulders with his large, calloused hands. Kelly groaned out loud and briefly considered passing out from pleasure. But the line of jostling aliens didn’t magically disappear, though at least it no longer extended right out the door of the Nebulae room and into the Empire Convention Center lobby. There would be plenty of time to pass out in her LoveU massaging recliner when the night was over.
“Are the aliens, I mean, are our guests actually going around to the other booths, or are they just grabbing their certificates and leaving?” she asked Joe. “I can’t see a thing sitting here.”
“I’d say it’s a big hit,” Joe assured her. “I wish I’d brought some beer and tried to drum up orders, but Laurel and her friends are doing a bang-up business with their ‘Tastes of Our Home World’ smorgasbord. I’ve seen some pretty spectacular digestive failures and allergic reactions taking place in the dining area, but I guess the smart travelers would rather get it out of the way here, with their own medical staff available.”
“Ugh,” Kelly grunted, making a note to herself not to use the bathroom until she got home. “How about the girls from the Shuk? Are they getting a crowd?”
“Can’t you hear them from over here?” Joe asked, and cocked his head to listen. “I guess not, this is a noisy bunch. They’ve been taking orders nonstop. Those two with the black hair who look like clones? They could have been drill sergeants with those lungs. You don’t want to know what I saw a humanoid with a purple octopus head doing with a nutcracker, though.”
“Too much information,” Kelly told him, as she signed another certificate for a humanoid with a green octopus for a head, reminding her of a Hydra illustration from a children’s book.
“How are my girls doing?” Donna asked.
“Second biggest crowd in the place,” Joe replied with a grin. “They brought Tinka along to help, and believe it or not, the poor girl is probably signing as many autographs as Kelly. Come to think of it, I think some of them were asking her to add her name to the same certificate.”
Kelly bent low over the table while signing the next batch of documents so that her husband and best friend wouldn’t see her expression. It’s not like human parents all over the galaxy don’t pretend to nibble on their children’s toes or ears, she fumed. And now Blythe had turned it into a marketing coup for InstaSitter. Next thing I’ll be hearing about it from Earth!
There was a ding in her ear, and the words, “Collect call from Mother,” appeared floating before her eyes.
“Accept charges,” Kelly subvoced, switching hands again as she blindly signed another certificate. The current batch of supplicants were encased in armored environmental suits and approached the table one by one with an articulated metal arm extended, not even attempting a word of small talk. Whatever her mother had to say, it would beat listening to Joe and Donna carrying on about the entrepreneurial girls.
“How’s my ambassadorial daughter?”
“I’m fine Mom. I can’t talk long, though. I’m working.”
“Friday evening? I understand if you’re stretched for money, dear, but taking on a part-time job to make ends meet at your age isn’t very sensible,” her mother said seriously. “I thought you said that Joe was doing well these days.”
“He is, Mother. I’m not at a part-time job. I’m running an Earth Exposition, meeting hundreds of important aliens. In fact, I really can’t talk long.”
“That’s all right, just listen. Your father and I have decided we could use a little vacation, so he’s going fishing out West with your brother’s father-in-law at the end of next month, and I’m coming to see you. Isn’t that great?”
Kelly’s hair would have stood up on end if she wasn’t so tired, and her shoulders suddenly tensed under Joe’s hands, causing him to jerk to attention and study the group of aliens waving their arms in Kelly’s face. But she was continuing the great paper giveaway on autopilot, so he relaxed back into rubbing her shoulders while listening to Donna talk about the kids. Apparently, the reason Paul had offered to babysit Dorothy for the evening was to get out of helping at the InstaSitter booth, and Blythe wasn’t happy about it.
“Mom, you know I really want to see you. But it’s a multi-day trip, and some of it is in zero gravity. You’ve never even been off the planet before. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“I’ve already booked a cruise, Kelly. The new orbital elevators make it easy to get off the planet without being crushed by acceleration, and they say that it’s statistically safer than walking. I’ll only be on Union Station for a week, but we’re stopping at all of the exotic ports on the tunnel network along the way. I got a great discount through our seniors group.”
“Oh,” Kelly let slip, then gave herself a mental slap and tried to sound bright. “Well, send me your itinerary, and I can’t wait to see you.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. And Kelly, do me a favor and don’t devour my tasty little granddaughter before I get to see her.”
“What?” Kelly said out loud, rising to her feet and causing the remaining few aliens in line to surge forward as a group for fear that they were going to miss out. “Mom! How did you mean that?” But her mother had already cut the connection, a first in Kelly’s memory.
“What’s wrong, Kel?” Joe asked, as Kelly slumped back into her chair and the final group of supplicants nervously reformed a line. “Was I squeezing too hard? Did I hit a nerve?”
“Just a collect call from my mother,” Kelly replied, sounding defeated. “She’s coming to visit at the end of next month.”
“That’s great,” Donna and Joe both said in chorus.
“I’ve always wanted to meet her,” Joe added, unsure why Kelly suddenly looked so depressed. “I thought you got along well with her.”
“With a galaxy between us, sure. But she has a way of getting under my skin when we’re in the same room. She finds fault with everything I do, and…” Kelly paused when she realized there was nobody behind the large ant-like creature extending a limb. She signed the last repurposed vaccination certificate with a flourish and stuck it on the pointy appendage. The creature bowed its head and scurried out the door.
“And she said something about me not eating Dorothy before she gets here,” Kelly groused.
“Ouch, all the way back to Earth,” Joe marveled. “Well, they say it’s better to be infamous than anonymous.”
Donna hid a smile behind her hand and began straightening out the mess of leftover certificates for future use. “I’ll just keep a few of these out, Kelly, for any late arrivals, but you may as well stretch your legs and take a look around. It really was a huge success you know. I’ll bet you have a formal dinner reception invitation from every nitrogen/oxygen breathing species on the station.”
“They probably just want to see if I eat anything other than children,” Kelly replied sourly. But her mood was already brightening, and she accepted Joe’s invitation to take a stroll around the Exposition hall.
Once she was out from behind the table, Kelly felt a surge of pride at what they had accomplished. Representatives from more species than she could ever recall seeing in the same room at the same time milled around the spacious hall, stopping at the booths around the edges, or congregating in the central food court area where they sampled Earth staples and delicacies alike. The scene was only made more colorful by a band of normally staid Tharks doing an intoxicated line dance as they licked at sample bars of imported handmade soap from Anne’s Boutique.
As Joe had reported, there was a big crowd at the InstaSitter booth, where the demand was so great that Blythe had called in Thomas to help. Kelly couldn’t prevent herself from imagining one side of the dialogue between the naïve artificial person and a perspective client:
“Yes, I’ve sat for the ambassador. No, she’s really very nice and I’ve never seen her eat anyone. Yes, you can have my autograph on the certificate also if you think it will help wi
th something.”
Some angry shouts and jostling erupted from the packed crowd in front of the Fight On booth, where Donna’s husband was attempting to calm the excited gamers. When Stanley spotted Joe over the heads of the crowd, he immediately beckoned for him to come over, and said something to the antagonists that put them on their best behavior. While Kelly was reluctant to let go of Joe, she didn’t have the energy left to remain on her feet through a heated discussion about some obscure gaming protocol. So she gave him a push in the right direction and headed for the Shuk booths to check in with the Hadad family.
“This is Joe McAllister,” Stanley introduced Joe to the crowd of fractious aliens. “He owns the Raider/Trader barn that supports the squadron you’re asking about. His son Paul is the Nova champion who commands the squadron, so maybe he can help with your questions.”
“Is it true that the new Earth fleet intends to ally with the Vergallian/Drazen axis to attack the Dollnicks?” demanded a tall Dolly, his four hands clenched in fists.
“Attack the Dollnicks? In the gameverse?” Joe asked incredulously. “Look, I never heard of Earth participating in any grand interspecies alliances in the gameverse before you brought it up. Besides, the way I understand it, everybody has to get their fighting hours in to maintain their game profile, so what difference does it make?”
“What did he just say? Does he expect us to believe that?” The bunched up mass of gamers surged forward with what passed for ugly expressions on their faces, and Stanley got ready to pull his baseball bat out of the Velcro loops securing it to the bottom of the booth table. Fortunately, Patches arrived back from the “Tastes of Our Home World” booth, and after a lightning assessment of the situation, launched into a flood of indecipherable barn banter.
“Squadron commander sliced a loaf with Big Bird, and they’re looking glass for the pow-wow in the shallow deeps. If the rocks scatter and the wrappers pay bills, we’ll all be in the basket come the Big One.”
Satisfied with his own explanation, Patches transferred his attention to the giant sandwich Laurel had made for him, and showed no inclination to explain further. Oddly enough, the various translation implants employed by the species present must have come up with something that satisfied the opposing parties, because the tension drained from the mob. Stanley removed his hand from the bat handle.
“Any idea what the kid just said?” Joe asked his friend in an undertone.
“I was going to ask you,” Stanley replied. “It’s your barn, after all. These gameverse alliance rumors are starting to become a real issue. I thought humans did so well at games because we take them so seriously, but the Raider/Trader wars are taking on a life of their own.”
“Just don’t let it spill over into the Expo,” Joe cautioned him, as a pair of Frunges sidled up to the table on a pad of root-like feet, hoping to get an answer about the rules for an old human board game one of them held. “This is a big night for Kelly and I don’t want it spoiled by a riot. She’s been kind of sensitive since the Tinka incident.”
Joe left the Fight On booth and headed over to the section taken up by Shuk vendors, who made up a good third of the Earth businesses with booths. The exposition format was ideal for the merchants who grew up in open-air style markets, competing mainly on presentation and salesmanship. Kelly was already at the Kitchen Kitsch booth, engaged in a deep conversation with Peter and Shaina, while Brinda kept the traffic coming with her piercing alto.
“Nutcrackers, nutcrackers, nutcrackers. Shirts and skirts, shoes and ties. Kitchen Kitsch has the latest Earth fashions, so you won’t offend human eyes. Nutcrackers, nutcrackers, nutcrackers.”
“Joe. Good. Listen to what Peter has been telling me. Do you mind repeating it, Peter?” Kelly had the bright-eyed look that Joe had come to associate with working on a mystery. Solving puzzles made Kelly happy, and a happy Kelly made Joe happy, so the evening was definitely looking up.
“Well, Shaina could tell it better I guess. I’ve been running back and forth to the warehouse for more supplies, and I really should squeeze in one more trip,” the Hadad patriarch said, with a nervous look at the rapidly diminishing stock behind the booth. Shaina wasn’t one to wait for a second invitation, and she launched into the story as her father headed for the exit, a string of mulebots floating in his wake.
“I grew up doing business with all of the species who can stand the atmosphere on the Shuk deck, and I’m usually decent at reading between the lines in negotiations,” the young woman began modestly. “So it was a real surprise to me when some Dollys I know brought around one of their merchant princes, who they said just happened to be on the station. The Dollys are hardly the oldest or the most powerful species in the sector, at best they’re middle of the pack, but when it comes to concentration of wealth, the old four-arms are at the top of the pyramid. Their extended families pay a sort of tithe, it’s a cross between insurance and a protection racket, but the point is, there’s a small group at the top who have mountains of Stryx creds.”
“They’re already super rich?” Kelly interrupted Shaina’s lecture. “So why should they care about chasing after Earth’s newfound wealth?”
Shaina gave Kelly a look of pity and Joe just sighed and shrugged. Thanks to a life in government service, Kelly was a bit thick about business.
“Nobody stays rich by running away from opportunities,” Shaina explained patiently. “When this prince started talking, I thought he was trying to sound us out for investment opportunities in the Earth export business. You know, to get an idea of what we’re selling, maybe extend a fake offer of partnership to worm information about profit margins out of us, the usual thing. But instead he comes on like a salesman, telling me about a limited partnership for mining platinum on some moon that I could buy into for just a couple billion creds. He wanted introductions to our backers on Earth, if you can believe that.”
“A couple billion Stryx creds?” Kelly repeated. “That’s like the EarthCent operating budget, well, forever. Where did he expect you to come up with that money?”
Shaina shrugged her narrow shoulders and continued. “So I watched him work the room for a while, which was easy, since he must be the tallest alien on the station. Then I did a quick walk-about and talked to the vendors at the booths he visited, and they all reported the same experience. This merchant prince is approaching Shuk vendors and mom-n-pop importers like we’re all made of money or we have a rich uncle back on Earth. That’s when I realized that customers from some of the other species who were buying bits of this or that were hinting at the same thing. They’re just subtler. I hadn’t put two and two together before because it’s so ridiculous.”
“Well, I know from the Stryx that money has been pouring into Earth the last few months, and apparently everybody else knows as well. You just explained to me that the Dollnicks operate on a tithe system with the deep pockets at the top, so maybe he figured it must be the same with humans. It makes sense that a Dolly prince would want to do business with an Earth business magnate.”
“I guess,” Shaina replied, surprised that she hadn’t made the connection herself. “But what about that other thing my Dad told you about, the new wholesale consortium? We still specialize in Earth imports, but we’ve added some off-world items, like the nose filters from the Chintoo orbital complex that just work better than the old ones. The consortium trader took Angora wool in barter, which I can’t imagine the robots running Chintoo need for anything.”
“Better nose filters?” Kelly asked hopefully.
Shaina smiled and gave Kelly a friendly elbow bump. “My sister Brinda has a couple pairs in her pocket for you. I was going to send her over when things slowed down but you got here first. Great Expo, by the way. Hey, Joe.”
“Hey, Shaina,” Joe responded and threw in an obligatory gentle elbow. “If you’re finished with the Ambassador, I thought I’d treat her to a meal.”
“Good idea, just steer clear of the restrooms,” Shaina advised them seriously
. “And Kelly, make sure you give a good tip to the maintenance staff. They’re going to earn it tonight.”
Nine
Kelly sat cross-legged next to Dorothy and hoped that her forty-year-old knees would cooperate and not make gunshot noises when it was her turn to get up and talk. Still, it was fun sitting in the grass, surrounded by four and five-year-old children, and an equal number of little Stryx. The kindergarten was a new addition to the Stryx-run school which had previously started with six-year-olds, so Dorothy’s class was a sort of an experiment. One or two parents sat next to each child for Parents Day, and the little Stryx were scattered among the humans, often near a particular friend. Metoo stood on Dorothy’s other side, and Kelly noticed that her daughter patted the little robot from time to time, as if to console him for not bringing a parent.
Joe had warned Kelly that parental show-and-tells at Stryx school could be a nerve-wracking experience, but she was sure now that he must have been pulling her leg. He had even advised her to prepare an activity or to bring the dog to give the children rides, as if she couldn’t keep a few children entertained by talking about her job. Why, the father of one child, an astrophysicist by profession, had spent his entire five-minute slot blowing up balloons, then exclaiming, “Go rocket! Go!” and releasing them to zoom all over the room. All of the children had taken up the chant, even the little Stryx, and they seemed to enjoy watching the man turn red blowing up the balloons as much as following the erratic flights. This would be a piece of cake.
Breathless, but otherwise looking pleased with himself, the rocket man handed the presentation baton to a woman sitting with a cardboard box and a folded tray table. She quickly rose and moved to the front of the assembly. With practiced motions the woman unfolded the tray table and poured out the contents of the box, consisting of a large number of plastic containers with different color caps. She assumed an unnaturally serious expression as she opened each container, casting a speculative look at a different child as she removed each cap, as if she were measuring the children to see if they would fit inside. The woman was a good actress and the anticipation in the room grew.
