And then, after all that, the ambassador proceeded to go through, with ever more frustrating slowness, exactly the same briefing that even the most junior rating on the ship knew by heart, now. All the officers stood it well, listening with polite attention, though you wouldn’t have to be a particularly alert observer to note that Alex became more and more remote and stone-faced as the interminable briefing went on, whilst a certain glassy look came into Martine’s eyes, clearly nodding along but thinking about something else.
Eventually, after more than two hours, the ambassador came to the end of intoning the document and moved on to the issue of Davie North’s involvement.
‘Mr North hasn’t visited Amali before,’ she said, in that same carefully neutral tone with which she’d spoken about him earlier. ‘Though he has visited the Allen base, close to Flancer of course, on a number of occasions. He was granted full accreditation as an exodiplomacy goodwill ambassador when he turned fourteen, though I understand he had some unofficial involvement in exodiplomacy even before that. My information is, indeed, that he was taking an active role in providing hospitality for Solaran visitors to Flancer by the age of six.’
She paused, taking a measured sip of water, the very control of her manner in that effectively conveying her opinion of a six year old being allowed to meet alien diplomats on top secret and highly sensitive visits to their worlds.
‘That was approved, I understand,’ she said, ‘after he demonstrated that he had learned the Solaran language and was thoroughly conversant with their culture and customs.’
Alex could just imagine that.
‘Anyway,’ Ambassador Dolan went on, ‘he is fully accredited, with some years of exodiplomacy experience, despite his youth, with clearance to come to any X-base. At the time when he arrived here we were considering options for Shionolethe. She had expressed the wish, once she was sufficiently familiar with our culture, to travel. We would, of course, have been pleased to provide her with the usual transport and escort to see whatever worlds she wished, but as explained in the briefing, living on the hospitality of others is not acceptable to the Pirrellothian culture. Shionolethe had asked if there was some useful role that she could undertake to pay her way, as it were, and we were looking at possibilities for that when Mr North arrived.’
Another sip of water, and the ambassador continued, ‘There was a suggestion that she might travel with him – he invited her to do so, indeed, offering her any job she wanted, also, if that was important to her. Shionolethe declined that, however, recognising that it would be, effectively, the same kind of hospitality we were offering. She expressed the desire to do something ‘real’. Mr North, I am aware, made a number of suggestions in addition to the possibilities we ourselves had proposed. Shionolethe expressed interest in serving with the Fourth. We explained, of course, in detail, what that would entail, but she was adamant in her decision so we initiated the necessary requests to the Admiralty and Senate. We would, naturally, prefer to be sending a suitably qualified and experienced diplomatic escort with her, but Shionolethe herself has declined that. We are, therefore,’ she looked at Alex, ‘placing her safety and welfare, and the furthering of diplomatic relationship between her people and humanity, entirely in your hands.’ Her tone added and we can only hope you’re up to it, and Alex gave a sober nod.
‘We will, naturally, have a suitably briefed team with all necessary provision standing by at Karadon, Novamas and Therik, should she choose to leave your ship at any port of call.’ Something in the ambassador’s tone made it apparent that she considered this to be highly likely, evidently feeling that Shionolethe would come to her senses very quickly and accept a far more appropriate diplomatic provision.
‘Mr North has also informed us that he will be travelling in company with your ship at least so far as Karadon, and he, of course, will take her aboard the Stepeasy should she find that life aboard a frigate isn’t to her liking, after all.’
Alex nodded again. Even if he didn’t want the Stepeasy to come with them, there was nothing he could do to prevent it. The Stepeasy was a good deal faster and more agile than the Heron, and as Davie had pointed out, space was free to all. So long as the other ship remained outside their security exclusion zone, Alex had no right even to try to stop it following them. In fact, he was pleased to hear that the Stepeasy would be keeping them company at least to Karadon – it would, indeed, be good to have a fallback in case Shionolethe wanted to leave the ship. And he was starting to feel that that was quite likely, himself. The ambassador evidently felt that coming aboard the Heron was an impulsive, ill-considered decision that Shionolethe would soon come to regret, and she knew her, after all.
With this, though, the ambassador apparently felt that she’d given all the advice she needed to, as she rose to her feet, then, unhurriedly, suggesting that they might, now, look at the accommodation prepared for Shionolethe.
‘Well this, obviously, is the wardroom,’ Buzz, as president of the officers’ mess, had been responsible for making arrangements for Shionolethe’s accommodation, and duly showed them the room they’d been sitting in for the past couple of hours. It was quite a pleasant room, though anyone who knew the Fleet would recognise both the furniture and the artwork as being absolutely standard for a frigate of this class. Those campaign groups which screamed about the Fourth’s ‘infamous champagne lifestyle’ would have been quite disappointed. True, Buzz did own a very fine set of silver tableware, his personal property, which they used for special occasions, but there was never, as he confirmed, real champagne.
‘Only the non-alcoholic Fleet issue, standard from Supplies,’ he said, in response to a delicate enquiry from the diplomatic aide, ‘used for the loyal toast at the end of formal dinners. Actually it comes in powder form and we just add water to it.’
The young diplomat shuddered a little, casting a glance at the ambassador that conveyed pained concern.
‘I have told her about the catering,’ the ambassador observed, resignedly. ‘She even lived on Fleet prepacks for a few days at the base to see how she’d get on with it. We will, of course, send emergency supplies aboard with her in case she asks for more refined dining, but for the moment at least she is adamant that she will be fine eating the same as the rest of the crew. May we see her cabin, now?’
It was like all the other officer’s cabins adjoining the wardroom, a tiny rhombus containing a bunk, lockers and shower unit.
‘It is a Lt’s cabin, yes,’ Buzz confirmed, ‘since the Corps specified that she must have privacy and her own shower facilities. Sub-lt’s generally share shower units, you see, which are built with doors into adjoining cabins, and they’re rather smaller than this.’
Again, the young aide looked faintly horrified, but the ambassador gave a considered nod.
‘I appreciate that you are doing your best,’ she said. ‘So – where is the alternate accommodation if Shionolethe chooses to be accommodated as per her diplomatic status?’
‘Down on deck four, ma’am,’ Buzz informed her, and knew that she had familiarised herself with every detail of facilities aboard the Heron when she raised her eyebrows.
‘In the brig?’
Buzz smiled. One of the reasons the Fourth had been given the Heron was that the ship was, by Fleet standards, extraordinarily spacious. The frigate had two carrier decks, able to carry either cargo or passengers. One of those decks had been refitted as the new wardroom and officers’ quarters, along with a new computer core room and tech space. With the problems they’d had accommodating so many prisoners on their first operation, it had been felt advisable to create a self contained, purpose-built facility on the other deck. Just now, since they had no prisoners aboard, they were using the dining area there as a workout room, the cells themselves unused.
‘We have adapted quarters there to the best of our ability,’ he told her, ‘given the resources we had aboard – we were, after all, not briefed on the need to provide exodiplomacy quarters until after we ha
d left Therik. If you feel them to be inadequate we’ll certainly refit them to your requirements with whatever fittings you can provide.’
In the event, the ambassador conceded, there would be no need for that. Resourceful as always, the Fourth had removed some bulkheads and created a private entrance into a three roomed suite, equipped as dining room, lounge and bedroom.
‘We will send you some fabrics,’ she told them, and at their looks of enquiry, ‘Shionolethe likes to drape her surroundings with colourful fabrics – some of the supplies you brought out, indeed, are silks and embroidered fabrics for her use.’ She looked steadily at Alex. ‘I am sure I can rely on you to be accommodating in the matter of fire and freefall regulations.’
‘We may have to put a freefall hazard notice on the door, but yes, certainly,’ Alex said.
The inspection continued. The ambassador asked to see the brig, evidently concerned that any neighbours Shionolethe might have there would be dangerous or noisy. Satisfied that there was no communication with the exodiplomacy suite, however, she finally gave her approval.
‘Can you be ready to receive her, say, by 0950 tomorrow?’ She asked.
‘Certainly, ma’am,’ Alex repeated, recognising that it was pointless to tell her that they stood ready to receive the Pirrellothian aboard right now and that she was welcome to come whenever she liked. This was not, clearly, going to be rushed. Everything was to be done in proper form, with a scheduled and dignified departure.
By the following morning, many members of the crew had some doubts about what having the Pirrellothian aboard was actually going to be like. It was subtly expressed, in glances and murmured comments, but Alex picked up on it. If the crew could have voiced their concerns aloud to him, he knew, they would have said that they felt differently about it now. It had seemed almost like something out of a movie, till then, a thrilling adventure having an alien aristocrat coming aboard. Now it felt real, and if the critical comments of the ambassador were any kind of guide, their honorary officer might well turn out to be extremely difficult to please.
There was nothing he could say to calm their fears, not honestly, since he shared them. The ambassador’s visit had been as depressing as cold rain, and he’d been made to feel that his ship, after all, was embarrassingly inadequate to play host to such a guest.
‘I think she just wants to be sure that we’re taking our diplomatic responsibilities seriously,’ Buzz said, though Alex knew that the Exec was, if anything, even more anxious than the rest of them, since he was going to be her host in the wardroom.
All the same, though, everyone was a little on edge as 0950 approached the next morning, and prompt to the second, a shuttle rose from the base below.
Everyone had had shoreleave there by then, though none of them had got anywhere near the exodiplomacy quarters. Even Alex had taken his turn with a two hour pass. Much of that had been spent in Froggy’s company, catching up on Fleet gossip before Froggy took him out for a walk to show him the garden. Alex had been led on paths through slimy mud, in steaming humidity and a stink of bacteria, being shown the collection of spavined shrubs and weedy stems.
‘If only you could see it in a couple of months,’ Froggy lamented. ‘The dillies flower, you know – little blue flowers everywhere, quite something to see.’
Alex had made suitably impressed noises, but the only point of going out into the garden as far as he was concerned was that it finally gave him the opportunity to ask the port admiral, privately, what Shionolethe was actually like.
‘Perfectly charming,’ Froggy said, and then laughed. ‘Also unpredictable, frequently bewildering and incredibly, but incredibly stubborn. Once she’s made her mind up about something there’s no moving her at all. We’ve just had to get used to her doing whatever she wants, basically.’
That did not sound encouraging, but Alex would not be in command of the Fourth if he was a man who quailed at a challenge.
He was at the airlock as the shuttle docked. He would not have been there to welcome Shionolethe aboard if sticking to the letter of her request to treat her like any other officer, but Ambassador Dolan was entitled to be met by the skipper. Buzz was there, too, and so was Rangi Tekawa. The young medic was standing back, giving way to the senior officers, but was not even attempting to conceal his excitement.
When the airlock opened and Shionolethe came aboard, they all gazed at her, Rangi in open wonder while Buzz and Alex maintained professional decorum. She was already wearing Fourth’s uniform. The briefing had informed Alex that the Fleet had already provided full kit for her in Fourth’s grey, so there she stood in their uniform and the insignia of a Sub-lt. She was wearing the correct uniform for reporting aboard ship, too, the smart jacket and pants known as groundside rig, worn for ordinary occasions off the ship.
It was disconcerting, in that, to see how normal she looked. If Alex had been told that she was just another young Sub being sent to them on secondment, he would have accepted that without question.
‘Welcome aboard,’ Alex said, sharing that between the Pirrellothian and the ambassador who’d come aboard beside her.
‘Thank you.’ Shionolethe spoke, slightly to his surprise, with a Central Worlds accent, her manner composed and friendly. She had a kitbag slung from one shoulder and a hand-luggage bag in the other hand, but put both of these down as she turned, then, and kissed the Ambassador on both cheeks. ‘Thank you for all your care of me, darling,’ she said.
For all the warmth of that, it was a very definite goodbye, and the ambassador looked for a moment as if she might protest. She had intended, after all, to come aboard and ensure that Shionolethe was satisfied with the provision made for her and really sure she wanted to go through with this. Faced with that warm but firm dismissal, however, she did the diplomatic thing and smiled.
‘It was my very great pleasure,’ she replied, then gave a steady look at Alex and a nod, ‘Skipper.’
And with that, she was gone, withdrawing into the airlock and leaving them to it. As the hatch closed behind her, Shionolethe turned back around and gave the skipper a well-practiced salute.
‘Sub-lt Shionolethe reporting for duty, sir.’
Alex saluted back, feeling some relief that she hadn’t kissed him or called him darling.
‘Glad to have you with us, Sub-lt,’ he replied, and offered his hand, which she took with an answering smile. Her grasp was firm and her skin cool. Her fingers were long, though within the norms laid down by the Homo Sapiens Identification Act, defining in the League at least what was and was not human. ‘Commander Burroughs, Executive Officer,’ he introduced Buzz, who also shook hands as he welcomed her aboard, and then Rangi, ‘and Dr Tekawa, ship’s medic and safety officer.’
Rangi gazed rapturously up at her as they shook hands. If he’d exclaimed aloud, ‘Oh, you’re gorgeous!’ his feelings could not have been more obvious. She was, indeed, strikingly attractive, though that had more to do with her poise and warmth of expression than any particular beauty of feature. She was, though, very graceful in the way she moved, as fluid and controlled as a dancer.
‘We’ll sign you aboard, then Dr Tekawa will show you to your quarters and give you the safety orientation,’ Alex said. He’d decided on that, after some discussion with Buzz, on a policy of doing things, as she’d asked for herself, just as normally as possible.
‘Thank you.’ That clearly came as no surprise to her – Alex knew from the briefing that she had already familiarised herself with all Fleet regulations, Fourth’s policies and shipboard routines, so she would need very little explaining to her.
So they went the few metres from the main airlock into the command deck, and went through the ritual of signing her aboard as a serving officer. That was a lie in so many ways it was a joke. For one thing, she was not an officer, her rank honorary and any work she might undertake aboard the ship at Alex’s own decision and responsibility. For another thing, she could not possibly sign the ordinary log as boarding the ship at X-Ba
se Amali since no such place, officially, even existed. Even civilian spacers knew there were such bases around the borders, of course, but even in the Fleet and Diplomatic Corps only those with exodiplomacy clearance would be told where those bases were. The document she signed for the log, too, committing to serving aboard until such time as released from that duty, was in no way binding upon her since her diplomatic status superseded it. But they went through the ritual anyway, signing her aboard and then going through the complex procedures, including the signatures of three command rank officers, to falsify the ordinary log and insert records there asserting that she’d come aboard the ship at Therik. They’d been running ‘dual log’ within a week of leaving Therik, tracking their actual course in the XD-classified log while the ordinary one recorded a route that would look like they’d been on a routine training flight well within the League’s borders.
Throughout this, the ship was virtually silent, other than for a low wondering hum as the crew watched through the comlink. Shionolethe was certainly aware of this, and the nonchalance of some of the crew at work on the command deck itself might have been more convincing too, but she took no notice either of the murmurs or the furtive looks.
‘I’ll meet with you once you’ve had a look around and settled in,’ Alex told her, once the ceremony of falsifying the log had been concluded.
‘Thank you, skipper,’ she smiled happily at that, and Alex found himself relaxing. His fears that she would be royally haughty and imperious now seemed quite ridiculous. She was indeed, he felt, a very charming lady. And he noted, too, that she was even familiar with the Fleet tradition, not written down in any handbook, that new crewmembers said ‘sir’ until they’d signed aboard, after which they could revert to the more informal ‘skipper’.
He watched her leave the command deck, then, shepherded by a beaming Rangi, and was not surprised to see her drop down a zero-gee ladderway with such easy confidence you’d think she’d been doing it for years. Rangi was trying to take her kitbag, but she told him laughingly that she could carry it herself, looking around her with keen interest, then, as he led her to the wardroom.
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