XD:317 (Fourth Fleet Irregulars)

by S J MacDonald

  By the time it had been realised that ‘Solarus’ was just another way to say ‘The star’, as in ‘The star called Perth’, and that the Solarans themselves used this prefix to indicate any inhabited solar system, the Solarans themselves had decided that they rather liked being known as ‘the people of the star’, so they’d been known that way ever since.

  ‘Perithin, then,’ Alex agreed. ‘Though they are known to us as Solarans.’ He paused for a moment, making the decision not to pursue the issue of the Abigale. ‘It is because of the Perithin that we are here,’ he explained. ‘They told us that our shipping was causing nuisance to you, passing near to the Firewall, here.’ He indicated the Abigale route. ‘So I have come, on behalf of my people, to apologise.’

  He knew as he said it that that was diplomatically hypersensitive. ‘I’ve been banging on your door in order to apologise for the noise we’re making’ would not go down well with human neighbours, after all.

  The Gider, though, evidently found this just bewildering. There were several seconds of high pitched incomprehensible conversation between them and then a lot of questions to Shion, followed by bewilderment expressed to Alex.

  ‘We do not know of anybody saying this was a nuisance. When did they tell you this?’

  ‘Last year,’ Alex said, apologetically, because he felt it must seem to the Gider that the humans hadn’t been in any rush to respond to the complaint. ‘We have been trying to make contact with you for the last eleven months,’ he told them.

  ‘You said in your message,’ Tinikiki observed, and popped up a little bright light where the Diplomatic Corps had set up the comms array. ‘We did not know they were saying hello,’ Tinikiki told Alex. ‘We thought that you were...’ a slight pause, looking at Tinikehki, and Alex could hear Shion offering other options to the ‘carrying out experiments’ that had been her first suggestion for translation of the Solaran word Tinikehki used. ‘...messing about,’ Tinikiki said. ‘The Perithin say you are always messing about trying to find out how things work. Researching and developing, they say, yes. R and D. We did not send a vehicle. We did not want you to explode. But then you,’ he beamed merrily, ‘2, 3, 5, 7, 11 – 1, 4, 9, 16, 25!’ He hooted. ‘That says hello! So we came and got your message. But we did not say to the Perithin that your ships were a nuisance to us. How could they be? It is just a...’ he hesitated again, looking at Tinikehki, who was going through options with Shion, trying to find the form of words that would best convey what they wanted to say, ‘routine,’ Tinikiki said, as the other Gider chittered. ‘One of us will look, sometimes, to see what activity there is, there was, in our region of space, and that is the Firewall too, so we see your ships passing close but it is only a... number? Statistic?’ He settled on that. ‘Statistic. It is not something to complain of. We have not said such a thing to the Perithin. We have not spoken to them for more than sixty of your years. But they are great fools. They understand very small ... very slow,’ he corrected, ‘and get many things mistake – wrong. The idea we have is that possibility the Chethari said to the Perithin that it surprised them how many of your ships are seen near the Firewall now. We had Chethari visitors last year and some remember that they were surprised at that. The last time they came to visit us we had only seen three touches to the Firewall by your ships. Now we have so many it is normal to see a hundred, two hundred in one year. But it is not a nuisance, only a statistic, and only a concern to us to stay away so your ships do not explode. It is a concern too now that fear of us is causing you nuisance. Your message said that your ships go to this star because they gather rocks of value to you. We do not want your ships to be having fear in this that it is causing us nuisance. So we will move the Firewall back and your ships can gather rocks without fear or concern, yes?’

  Alex felt breathless. That was the absolute best-hope possibility in his briefing, a request so hypersensitive that the diplomats did not even want to make it themselves in case it caused relationship-breakdown offence even before the relationship had got started. And here it was, being offered as if it was of no importance at all.

  ‘Can you do that?’ he asked. ‘Without any risk or trouble to yourselves?’

  The Gider flapped their fingers cheerfully.

  ‘It is...’ another hesitation as Shion and Tinikehki had a discussion on variations around the theme of ‘a minor technical adjustment’, which moved on till Tinikehki found the level of colloquialism wanted to express very casual, friendly informality, ‘a piece of cake,’ said Tinikiki. ‘It is done, already. Here...’

  He showed them on the star map. The Firewall had acquired a long, gentle bulge. It hardly looked like anything, on that scale, till you realised that it had curved out more than five light years around the Tolmer’s Drift system. That would give them ample room for manoeuvre. It also, incidentally, brought eight more star systems into the realm of human space.

  ‘This system too has many of the rocks that your people like to gather,’ Tinikiki commented, indicating a star that would be just a few weeks from Tolmer’s Drift, yet well within the new Firewall boundary.

  Alex lifted his gaze from the new border configuration, understanding that the Gider had given them eight solar systems, one of them rich in the ores that made Tolmer’s Drift one of the most profitable mining operations in the League.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, though it seemed inadequate. ‘Thank you. We are deeply in your debt.’

  This, however, was not understood. After a confused couple of minutes, it became apparent that the Gider had no concept of money, and no concept of obligation, either, at least not in any sense of people being expected to pay back gifts or acts of kindness.

  ‘It is the normal thing for people to help others,’ Tinikiki said. ‘Is it not so with you?’

  ‘I wish that I could say that it was,’ Alex said, a little ruefully. ‘But we are a trade-culture. It is the normal thing for us to help those in need or distress, but normal too to seek to bargain, exchange gifts and services to mutual benefit.’

  The Gider stared at them in a way that made it clear that this was their ‘shock’ moment, recognising such fundamental difference that it would take a great deal of effort to understand, and even more goodwill to overcome.

  ‘We have gifts,’ Alex admitted, ‘which we brought as token of our regret that our shipping had been causing you nuisance, and in the hope of establishing a diplomatic relationship. I am embarrassed to offer them now, as I do not want to offend you. But I hope that you will accept, as a gift of friendship – we were told that you requested more of our movies from the Perithin, is that so?’

  ‘They said no,’ Tinikiki confirmed. ‘That it was too difficult a thing to ask.’

  ‘It takes them time, I understand, to process the recordings we give them, to make them compatible with other technologies,’ Alex said. ‘But you can, clearly, interface with our broadcasts. If they are of use to you, if you can convert them to be watchable using your technology, we will happily transmit our entire leisure library from the ship, and that includes a ‘million movie’ bundle that we brought with us in the hope that it might be of interest to you.’

  If the value of a gift was measured purely in terms of the pleasure that it gave, the movies won. However much delight humans might feel at the gift of eight solar systems and one of them promised to be as rich with rare minerals as Tolmer’s Drift itself, that could not compare with the joy expressed by the Gider.

  It was, quite literally, joy beyond words, as they gave up attempting to communicate their feelings verbally and started dancing instead.

  That was quite astonishing to see. Shion had mentioned that her people’s recollection of the Gider was that they were known for their light hearted frivolity, party lifestyle, music and dancing.

  At some level, though, all of them had expected that the dancing of a great, ancient, highly advanced species would be a wonder to behold, grace beyond the finest human ballet.

  In the event, all of them
had seen better dancing than this even in spacer bars where people had had a few too many beers. The Gider launched themselves on an upward diagonal, arms at their sides, flapping their fingers in rapid fluttering motions as they came back to land and bounce right off again on a different diagonal. The fact that they did this in perfect unison did not make it look any less absurd.

  The first contact party responded very differently. Alex maintained his formal composure, though gazing at the leaping aliens with a slightly stunned look in his eyes. Rangi was frankly delighted – as they danced, the Gider raised the rosy fronds that had been close about their heads, revealing that they had both a high vertical crest and wing-like structures to the sides. They were fluttering these, perhaps to get more oxygen for the energetic leaping, perhaps as part of the dance. Either way, Rangi was making delighted little noises as he watched, knowing that suit-cams would give him lots of data to work on, later. Murg was just staring, slowly turning redder and redder with the embarrassment of trying not to laugh. Only Shion just stood there, grinning, frankly amused.

  ‘I think that’s a happy-dance, skipper,’ she told him.

  It went on for some minutes before the Gider stopped, expressing some confusion over why the humans hadn’t joined in.

  ‘When one dance, all dance,’ Tinikiki told them. ‘All, everywhere, all our people.’

  ‘The whole planet?’ Alex was struggling to understand that.

  ‘Yes – unless asleep, if others are dancing, we all dance.’ Tinikiki said. His lung-crest was still high, the delicate tracery fluttering in a way that Rangi suspected meant that they were a little out of breath. ‘We have many dances. That is the dance of the...’ a glance at Tinikehki, who was conferring with Shion, ‘bee.’ Tinikiki said. ‘You would say bee. A pollinating creature. It makes a happy buzzing sound. We dance the dance of the bee when joy makes us buzz. Movies!’ the word was a crow of delight. ‘That is a very happy gift.’

  They were very nearly as delighted, though, by the opportunity to see Lucky. They’d been looking at him in his carrier with keen interest, throughout, and asked, then, if he could be taken out of the carrier that restricted their view.

  Rangi took a leading role, at that point, explaining that he was hesitant to bring the lizard out into that atmosphere.

  ‘He would not be comfortable, or happy,’ he told them. ‘If it is possible to adjust the atmosphere to the conditions we use for his habitat...’

  Details were provided, and within moments the interior of the encounter vehicle had changed from rather chilly polluted air to match, precisely, the atmosphere, warmth and humidity of the gecko habitat. There was no obvious means by which this was accomplished – no grilles, no air blowers, no evident technology at all. The air just changed. Once satisfied that it was gecko-friendly, though, Rangi opened up the carrier box and got Lucky out for them to have a proper look.

  They came up very close, peering at the lizard and asking Rangi about it. He taught them how to make the ‘tickatickaticka’ noise of contentment, demonstrating, too, how Lucky changed colour to a happy pink when he was tickled under the chin. The Gider declined an invitation to tickle the gecko themselves, though, explaining that they did not have physical touch in this projected form. They could not, therefore, hold or feel the lizard, but they could certainly enjoy looking at and chirruping to it.

  ‘We share our lives with animals, too,’ Tinikiki told Rangi. ‘All animals on Gide are companion species, pets. Many hundreds of thousands of species. But not a lizard like this. It is very beautiful. Fascinating. Look how it moves.’

  Alex stood watching as Lucky the gecko became an important part of establishing relationship with an alien species. There were so many things he wanted to talk to the Gider about – so many things, not the least of which was to follow up on that intriguing reference to the Chethari. It was apparent that they were the people the Solarans had meant, the third party they used to help them communicate with the Gider. Who they were, where their world was and whether they themselves might be open to the possibility of talking to humans were all questions burning in Alex’s mind.

  He kept them there, though. This was first phase contact. All that mattered in this crucial first meeting was that greetings were exchanged and communication established. Communication seemed to be going well – it had certainly stepped up a level from the initial phrase-book blurting, largely thanks to Shion’s high speed interpreting skills. They’d made huge progress, too, in resolving the border issue and taking first, cautious steps in establishing the basis for a friendly relationship.

  The border resolution aside, though, it would be a failure in the wider sense if this meeting turned out to be it, if the Gider withdrew, feeling that contact with humans was not a good idea at this stage, for any reason. The most important thing that he could do right now, Alex knew, was simply to avoid giving offence. So he stood back, exerting strong self control in not harassing them with questions when they quite clearly wanted to be giving all their attention to Lucky.

  He was glad that he had, too, when after several minutes the Gider expressed themselves very happy to have seen the gecko.

  ‘Will you bring more of your animals for us to see?’ Tinikiki asked.

  ‘I’m sure the Diplomatic Corps would be delighted to do so,’ Alex said, conscious of his duty, here, to steer them into talking to the exodiplomacy team. ‘And to provide more movies and entertainment, too – unconditionally, not requiring anything of you in return.’

  The Gider accepted that happily, but it was apparent with that that they themselves felt that this first meeting had come to a natural conclusion.

  Well, almost. There was one more thing that had to be done before they said goodbye, and that was to do the ‘dance of the lizard’. This was worked out by Tinikiki and Tinikehki based on the head bob and lifted-paw movement they’d observed in Lucky, along with a rhythmic imitation of his bent-legged gait.

  Alex, fighting back a suspicion that this was one big wind up, did as the Gider asked and joined them in their celebration of this meeting with the dance of the lizard. It was like taking part in the daftest line dance imaginable, the six of them padding backwards and forwards, head bobbing and poising with one hand in the air.

  ‘You’re not good at dancing,’ Tinikiki observed, with disconcerting candour. ‘But it was fun to say hello. You are amusing. We will decide, all our people, whether it is safe to meet your friends on the other ship. Will they wait for us there?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alex, with no hesitation in committing the Diplomatic Corps to that. ‘Yes, they will wait as long as you like.’

  The Gider had gone almost before he’d finished speaking, with no more than trills and happy beaming looks at them by way of a goodbye.

  Alex could have talked to them for hours – days, months. There was so much he still wanted to ask, part of him wanted to howl with protest at having to leave it like that.

  He knew, though, that he was doing the right thing, both instincts and training telling him that trying to extend a meeting when one side clearly felt that it had run its course was just not good diplomacy. He knew, too, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that this meeting could not have gone any better. The border issue was resolved, friendly contact made, and they had learned a lot. Both sides now, he understood, would need time to assimilate the exchange, review what they’d learned and build on it ready for their next encounter. If things went well then in due course there’d be an X-base out this way within a few years, with contact developing to the point where, at some time in the future, Gider might visit human worlds just as the Solarans did.

  For right now, though, Alex just had to get himself and his team safely back aboard the Heron so they could take this news to the Diplomatic Corps.

  ‘All right - time to go,’ Alex said, indicating that the others should get back aboard the shuttle. Normally in the Fleet, the senior officer went first. It felt right, though, that he should be the first one off the shuttle int
o a potentially dangerous situation, and the last one back aboard.

  He paused, just for a moment, as he stepped into the airlock, taking one last look. This had been one of the greatest moments of his life. He would remember it all for the rest of his life, too, every second, from the heart-thumping fright of that first overwhelming encounter to the hilarious absurdity of the ‘dance of the lizard’.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, to the silent, pearly beauty of the encounter space. Then he closed the hatch and went to join the others.

  The encounter bubble was already floating back over them as Shion took her place at the controls. The shuttle was still in freefall and Alex was gliding towards the co-pilot seat. Rangi and Murg were in the passenger seats behind, both looking thrilled beyond words, and both, Alex could see, hardly able to wait to get back to the Heron so they could start really working on the data that they’d gathered.

  The encounter bubble cleared away from them, leaving them back in space, exactly where they had been all along, other than for the fact that they were now upside down relative to their usual orientation. The Heron itself was just a superlight blur, streaking in circular holding orbit to port, while the Gider ship hung glistening to starboard and the encounter bubble drifted away below them.

  Alex started to tell Shion to fire up the engines and take them home, but he never even got the first word out.

  It happened so fast there was no way to understand at the time what had happened. One second Alex was gliding into his seat and reaching for freefall safety clips, the next he was pinned to the ceiling by what felt like at least four gee.

  His first thought was that Shion was pulling some wild piloting stunt in her own exuberance at the successful first contact. Then he saw, struggling to see as grey-out clouded his vision, that she was working controls with frantic speed, dealing with shrieking alerts and bringing them under control.