by E. M. Foner
“So, here’s the challenge,” Kelly said. “You all know that the Grenouthians have asked me to come up with a new edutainment series to foster interspecies relations, and even though I know they’re just in it for the advertising revenue, I think it could be a great opportunity for EarthCent to expand its diplomatic brand.”
“Brand?” Joe asked. He placed the pitcher on the coffee table for self-service and settled into the remaining easy chair.
“I met with the, er, younger set over at the EarthCent Intelligence offices for lunch today to get their opinions,” Kelly confessed. “Shaina and Blythe started talking about market positioning and branding, and when they found out that Aisha is only getting a ten-percent royalty from the Grenouthians on her Hindu dancer action figure, the whole discussion went off the rails. Then they got onto the subject of the Wanderer mob and Paul offered to take everybody out to visit in the Nova, so that was the end of that.”
“Never a good idea to hold a meeting outside of your own territory,” Czeros informed her. “You lose control of the agenda.”
“Be that as it may, I think there could be a real upside for EarthCent if we can attract even a fraction of the attention from adults that Aisha’s show is getting from children,” Kelly replied. “I mean, for those of us here, our jobs bring all of us in close contact with the other species. And even the station residents who stick to their own decks are only a couple minutes in a lift tube away from what amounts to a different world. But most of the sentients in the galaxy, even on the tunnel network, live on worlds and colonies with homogenous populations.”
“The Grenouthian documentaries are already one of the most popular forms of entertainment in the galaxy,” Shinka reminded her. “I’m always getting questions from relatives back home about whether the humans still go on slaving raids, refuse to bathe for fear of getting sick, or build giant tombs from stone and kill all the workers.”
“What do you tell them?” Stanley asked.
“Oh, I just laugh and suggest that they visit for themselves,” Shinka replied. “Bork tells me that Earth can use the tourist traffic.”
“But this is exactly what I’m getting at,” Kelly exclaimed. “The Grenouthian documentaries are sensationalistic, that’s why everybody watches them. I want to come up with a show that teaches viewers something about the other species as they really are today, not cherry-pick the low-lights from their history for the sake of cheap thrills.”
“So what did you have in mind?” Gwendolyn asked. Serving as the Gem ambassador for three years had built her self-confidence to the point that Kelly barely recognized the former waitress clone whose most-used phrase had been, “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t have anything in mind, that’s why I called for a brainstorming session,” Kelly admitted.
“My implant translated the term you’re using as describing an archaic methodology for group problem-solving based on one of several approaches,” Bork said. “I asked Libby for details, and she said there were a number of techniques for brainstorming, including a version where only one person in the room knows the specifics of the problem up for solution, and another version where nobody knows. It sounded a bit like a Drazen party game.”
“It’s too late for either of those approaches,” Donna pointed out. “We all know what the goal is, to come up with a grown-up version of Aisha’s show, which is really Kelly and Aisha’s show, if you go back to the creation.”
“Then the logical thing to do is to analyze what parts of Let’s Make Friends work for adults,” Dring said. “Once we’ve distilled the essence that can be transferred, we can start thinking about possibilities for a new framework.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kelly declared. “I realize that most of you have probably only watched a little out of curiosity, since it’s intended for preschoolers, but it would be really valuable to know if there are some universal elements. How about we go in a circle, starting with you, Peter?”
“Well, I don’t mind going first, but I never really watched the whole show,” the Hadad patriarch said. “I think the dance bit she opens with is brilliant, and I know that sari sales on the Shuk deck have gone from nothing to hundreds of outfits a day since the show became popular. The Dollnicks are selling knock-offs already.”
“Thank you, Peter,” Kelly said. “Joe?”
“I like the sock puppets,” Joe said unashamedly. “And the toy of the week segment, where a sponsor donates a new toy being introduced to the market? That’s hilarious. Even the kids from the species the toy is designed for usually prefer playing with the packaging.”
“Sock puppets and empty boxes,” Kelly scribbled on a yellow legal pad, the latest retro affectation sweeping the human deck. “Dring?”
“The word of the day,” Dring said decisively, “If any of you haven’t seen it, that’s where she asks the children on each show for the latest word they learned, and then they pick the most interesting one for her to research for the next episode.”
“I didn’t know Aisha was a linguist,” Peter commented.
“She’s not,” Kelly replied. “She just comes home and asks Dring, who probably makes up the etymologies.”
“I haven’t been caught yet,” the little dinosaur responded with a toothy grin.
“Donna?” Kelly asked.
“What I like most about the show is that Blythe’s twins stay still for it,” Donna said. “I don’t think they understand much of what’s going on, but when all the little aliens join the story circle with Aisha, the twins move right into the hologram and sit quietly, as if they were in the studio.”
“Hmm, holographic participation,” Kelly said, writing on her pad. “That might carry over.”
“That and the sock puppets,” Donna added.
“Stanley?” Kelly asked.
“I like the whole living sets and numbers concept,” Stanley replied. “I know it’s corny, but when she put a bunch of little humanoids together in one set, a Chert, a Frunge and a human, and then she made another set out of a Dollnick, a Verlock and a Grenouthian, all of the young aliens learned that the two sets were equal, even though one took up twice as much space as the other. Of course, the Drazen child was the first one to get the right answer, since it’s easy to compare three and three when you have six fingers on each hand.”
“I don’t see how we can work basic counting into a show for adults,” Kelly said.
“There’s racing odds,” Joe suggested, drawing a dark look from his wife.
“Czeros?” Kelly asked.
“You know I have several little shrubs at home, and although their mother is, shall we say, slightly xenophobic, she can’t keep them from watching,” the Frunge replied. “I tend to be elsewhere during the broadcasts, but I have to admit that the theme song is rather catchy. The children insist I sing it when I plant them for the night.” He began to clear his throat in preparation to performing the tune.
“Thank you, Ambassador,” Kelly cut him off diplomatically. “Perhaps we’ll have a sing-along when we finish getting everybody’s input. Gwen?”
“I watch it every day,” the Gem ambassador confessed. “The children are so cute that I wish I could take them all home.”
“Is there anything about the show itself that appeals to you?” Kelly asked.
“Oh, I like it all, especially the sock puppets,” Gwendolyn replied.
Kelly put a double underline beneath “sock puppets” on her legal pad. “Bork?”
“You know our children are all grown, so I’ve only seen the show once or twice when babysitting their offspring,” Bork replied. “My favorite part is where Aisha has the children ask each other questions. It’s interesting to learn what children don’t know and what they’re curious about. I’ve observed that more than half of the questions are about food, and bedtime ran a strong second. On one show,” he continued, growing somewhat excited, “a little Verlock asked the other children if they thought he talked normally, and they all agreed he was too slo
w. But then on a different show, the little Drazen asked all of the other children if it hurt when their tentacles were cut off. In fact, I think I saw a Dollnick kid ask the same question about arms on a different occasion, but you know they change the children on the show every eleven episodes, so similar questions repeat…” Bork trailed off, looking around self-consciously. “Well, maybe I’ve been babysitting more than I realized.”
“Asking each other questions,” Kelly said out loud, as she wrote it down. “Shinka?”
“I would have sworn that the show is usually on during your office hours,” the Drazen ambassador’s wife said to her husband. “I can’t offer such a detailed breakdown myself, but I do like the sock puppets, and the explanations the children give about their clothing are fascinating. I never would have guessed that Frunge children wear shoes to keep the dirt in.”
“It’s the best way to get the essential minerals when you’re young,” Czeros explained. “It’s not just any dirt. They sell a special mixture at the market.”
“I guess that just leaves me,” Kelly said, looking around the room. Beowulf raised his head and scowled. “I’m sorry, me and the overgrown hound. Do you have something to say?”
Beowulf rose, shook himself, and then did an elaborate downward-dog stretch, keeping his eyes on Kelly the whole time. Kelly shook her head, and he repeated the movement.
“You like the stretching exercises?” Joe guessed. Beowulf nodded his head enthusiastically, and then sauntered out of the room and down the ramp for one of his periodic patrols around Mac’s Bones.
“Yoga,” Kelly said, writing it on the pad irritably. “That was what I was going to say.” She paused for a minute and thought. “I guess I like the sock puppets too, and the introductions Aisha does when they change children on the show.”
“Are there any snacks?” Bork asked, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his wife.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to put them out,” Kelly exclaimed. “Can you get them, Joe? Paul and Aisha took Samuel out to see the Wanderers with the rest of that bunch, and I guess I was worried about the rumors and got a little absent minded.”
“Chastity has been going out to the mob every evening to dance, and she doesn’t even come home some nights,” Donna said in sympathy. “I’m beginning to wonder if their reputation for child-stealing isn’t well deserved.”
“She’s twenty-four years old,” Stanley pointed out. “Chas can take care of herself. It’s those Wanderers who better keep their eyes open.”
“I made Paul invite Jeeves along,” Kelly confessed. “I still worry, though. Maybe it will be better after I meet their envoy at the dinner next week, when the mob finally finishes arriving.”
“I had no idea there would be so many,” Joe said, parking the food service trolley he’d recently fabricated from spare parts. “There must be over a thousand vessels out there already, and many of them are repurposed colony ships. There could be more Wanderers in that mob than there are sentients on the station.”
Bork and Czeros immediately rose and attacked the finger food, and Beowulf suddenly reappeared. Joe hadn’t noticed earlier when the Huravian hound had artfully deformed one of the trolley’s casters with his massive jaw power, so the bearings now made a high frequency squeal that the dog could hear from all the way across the hold.
“Maybe the Wanderers will have some good ideas for a show,” Kelly said pointedly. The guests turned back to her. “Now the way I see it, the consensus choice for the best element was sock puppets, but I don’t know how we can use that. The word-of-the-day has potential, the explanations about clothing and other common items could be interesting, and I like the concept of contestants questioning each other.”
“Wait, what contestants?” Donna asked. “They’re little children, and the whole point of the show is how well they get along with each other. Sometimes I see Aisha as more of a playmate for them than a host.”
“That’s a great idea!” Peter said. “A sort of a game show where the host is one of the contestants, and they ask each other questions about their species.”
“Maybe not their species, but their cultures,” Shinka chimed in enthusiastically. “I’d love to ask some humans about their cooking and some Dollnicks about their investments.”
“I’d like to ask some aliens how they come up with their technologies, and how the stuff actually works,” Joe said. “How did the Frunge ever invent those wing sets, and how come none of my torches will cut through the sheet metal the Verlocks use to build cheap shipping containers?”
“I just use scissors,” Dring told him. “But I do wonder why the artificial people I meet always wear the clothes of the species that created them. I’d like to ask a few, but the ones on the station always look so busy.”
“Probably hustling to pay off their body mortgages,” Stanley commented.
“Did we just come up with an idea for a show?” Kelly asked in wonder. She looked down at her legal pad where she had been scribbling away unconsciously, almost like a form of automatic writing. In addition to the ideas just floated by her friends, she had written QUIZ SHOW in capital letters and drawn a circle around it. “Quiz Show?”
“These are really good sandwiches,” Bork said, looking over from the food trolley. “Did I miss anything?”
“You missed our brainstorm,” Shinka told her husband.
“You couldn’t wait for me?” Bork asked incredulously. “I even saved you some of that stinky cheese that you like.”
“No, you didn’t,” Czeros mumbled guiltily, his mouth full.
“There’s more in the kitchen,” Kelly said. “I know better than to put everything out at once when there are diplomats around.”
Four
When the band went on break, Chastity returned to the table where Blythe and Clive were sipping their drinks. Chance remained on the dance floor another five minutes, working on new moves to music only she could hear.
“I just love Dance Hall,” Chance said, her eyes sparking like Van Der Graaf generators when she finally retook her seat. “I think I’m going to run away with the Wanderers when they leave.”
“Wouldn’t you miss Thomas?” Chastity asked her.
“Sure,” Chance replied, looking uncomfortable. “But he’d still be here when I got back, we don’t age the same way as biologicals. Besides, it’s not like we could make a baby if I stayed.”
“I’m sure Libby told me that artificial people could produce offspring,” Blythe said.
“Well, we can, but it’s messy,” Chance admitted, toying with the grain alcohol Clive had thoughtfully ordered for her.
“Try having twins the old-fashioned way before you talk to me about messy,” Blythe remonstrated. Clive reached over and rubbed his wife’s back, looking pleased with himself over his part in their fruitful union.
“So, who did you get to watch Thing One and Thing Two tonight?” Chastity asked.
“Lynx,” Clive replied, as Blythe glowered at her sister. “She volunteered.”
“Why don’t you just use InstaSitter?” Chance asked. “Has the business failed?”
“Because we’re blacklisted!” Blythe replied angrily. “When we set up InstaSitter, we made a rule that if three consecutive babysitters requested to be relieved of their duties, we put a hold on the client. The twins burned through three sitters in one night, though I suspect somebody intentionally assigned the most delicate employees available,” she concluded loudly.
“Don’t bother trying to put the blame on Libby, she can’t hear you on this ship,” Chastity said.
“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Blythe retorted. “It’s not like I was calling for babysitters all the time, either. One night a week. Everybody says it’s healthy to take a break.”
“How come we couldn’t get your mother or Dorothy to sit?” Clive asked.
“Mom is running her monthly EarthCent mixer tonight, and Dorothy had some school thing with Mist that the McAllisters all went to see, so that eliminated
Aisha and Kelly as well.” Blythe ticked off the possibilities on her fingers. “Shaina and Brinda are off doing an auction on one of the stations with Jeeves, and Thomas took an informal gig as a dance instructor at the mixers. Lynx was with Thomas when I pinged him, so she volunteered. She’s never sat for the Things before.”
“Don’t let your sister train you into calling our children Things as well,” Clive said. “They’re just rambunctious two-year-olds with a well-developed sense of play.”
“I debriefed the InstaSitters they chased off,” Chastity mentioned matter-of-factly. “The twins tag-teamed them, ‘relentless’ was the word the Verlock sitter used, and they’re tough as nails.”
“It’s just a phase,” Clive insisted. “Hey, Chas. That guy you were dancing with earlier is coming over.”
“Really?” Chastity asked. She fought the urge to turn around and look, sat up a little straighter, and smoothed her elegant tango dress at the same time. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful,” Chance told her. “Speaking of which, I’m going back to work. I can’t goof off all night with my employers right here.”
EarthCent Intelligence’s femme fatale agent rose from her chair and headed off in the direction of the adjacent dance floor, where a Horten Mosh was going full-force. Unlike Thomas, Chance was equally at home with alien music and dance steps, and she had even been known to extract information from Vergallians on their home turf, all without the help of pheromones.
“Is this seat open?” asked the tall human, who was dressed in a well-tailored silk suit and patent leather shoes. With his curly dark hair, nearly-black eyes and narrow build, he reminded Clive vaguely of a mercenary who had broken his contract and disappeared with the platoon’s monthly supply of boots, a mystery that had never been solved or explained.
