by Lionel Law
“You can mark me down as ‘Yes’ on anything that improves or gives equal rights to the Dirts or creates peace with the Iovans, and ‘No’ on everything else,” Katrina said shortly, purposely ignoring the Governor’s title. “So now that you’re not the Captain any longer, what am I supposed to call you?”
“Governor Hunt,” he replied, “although I have a sneaking suspicion you will ignore my title as often as possible. So how about we dispose of the trappings, at least in these little talks?”
“Fine by me. So what’s your first name then?” Katrina sat back, smirking. If Hunt was serious, he’d let her use it, but no Qual she had ever met allowed a Dirt to call them by their first name. Some didn’t even tell Dirts their first names.
“Barbarossa, but Ross is fine,” Hunt replied. “My father had a severe sense of grandiosity, and connection to our Italian roots. Unfortunately for him, I did not inherit the red hair to make the name meaningful, so I chose Ross instead.”
“Understandable,” Katrina replied. “Okay Ross, well I guess Katrina would be fine then, although I assume we’ll be using titles when we meet in person. So what’s the reason for the call?”
“Well, two reasons. Since you’re now the official Ambassador of the Iovans, I wanted to inform you that your previous criminal charges have been set aside in light of fostering peace between humans and Iovans. You’re under diplomatic law now. Additionally, you’ve been invited to a formal reception with the Colonial government. Nothing much, just a dinner with myself and my cabinet, and some of our families, but we’re hoping it will give everyone a chance to smooth over some of the rough start to things.”
Katrina had to suppress a laugh. A rough start? If enslaving sixty percent of the population, causing her to flee, and then engaging in even more bigoted behavior when a real first contact situation arose is a rough start, she’d hate to think what Hunt thought a terrible start was. She was tempted to tell him to piss off, and only call when he had something important to say. Instead, she put on her most polite smile and nodded. “Of course. I will be bringing my date and assistant as well. You understand, in order to foster mutual understanding between our peoples.”
Hunt nodded grimly, swallowing his displeasure. “Only one rule. They are only allowed to speak English within Iova City. Any detection of ultra or subsonic communication, and they will be escorted out of our territory.”
Katrina resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and nodded. “I understand. I will explain the rule to my companions. Please, send along the details in a data packet, and my assistant will take care of the arrangements.”
“You have an assistant who can read and write English already? I’m impressed by their learning capacity. I look forward to meeting the woman. The dinner is in three days, I’ll have my assistant send yours the data. Until then, Katrina.”
“Ross.”
The screen went black, and Katrina resisted the urge to slam the unit face down on her desk. Instead, she turned it aside and looked down at her desk, picking up another data file from her desk. “What an asshole.”
She was surprised when Brynnda chuckled and replied from her desk. “Yes.”
*****
The shuttle circled Iova City patiently, while down there at least a hundred people were most likely scrambling to put the final touches on their reception, Katrina was sure. “It’s one of those things I’m going to have to get used to,” she commented to Da’al, who fidgeted uncomfortably in his formal clothes. He was piloting the small shuttle, a civilian model he could control easily, so as to save personnel.
“Are you sure I need to wear this?” he said, tugging at the lapels of his coat. “It seems so unnecessary.”
“At least you are not wearing a dress,” Brynnda said from her seat. “Why must I wear such a thing?”
Katrina chuckled and looked over at her assistant. “Brynnda, it’s a traditional thing among humans that in formal style events, women wear dresses. Be glad at least that the current fashion sent over aren’t as stiff or as revealing as they used to be.”
It was especially true for Brynnda, Katrina thought. With her breasts that would easily fill an E cup, and a twenty three inch waist, she did things for the dress that no designer could have ever dreamed of, and Katrina knew she would turn heads, especially with her waist length green hair and blue eyes to go along with her figure. Da’al was just as impressive in his double breasted tunic with short jacket, thankfully without tails. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but bare with it for a few hours,” she said, shifting to the side in her own dress. “As soon as we get back home, we can change clothes.”
“Good, because this is just weird,” Brynnda said, causing Katrina to laugh. In the three days since their first meeting, she had slept in the same house as Katrina and Da’al each night, making sure to absorb as much English as possible. As such, she had picked up a very unique lexicon, frequently using vocabulary and words that made her sound like a young woman or a teenager, but definitely not like the eighty year old she was. “How are you human women supposed to move in this thing?”
“We’re not,” Katrina laughed. “Although I have to say you took to high heels remarkably quickly. How’d you do it?”
“When I was a girl, I wanted to be taller. So I spent four months walking around with platforms tied to my feet. My father made me stop after a while, but the habit came back quickly.”
“And it makes you taller than me,” Da’al remarked, looking down at his own boots, which still boosted him an inch in height. “Tell me Katrina, will I be overly short for the human men?”
“Not too much so,” she said. “You’re a bit shorter than human average, but not overly so. Brynnda is the same. By the way Brynnda, did they select you because you just happen to be very tall for an Iovan woman?”
“No, they selected me because I was willing to take the job,” Brynnda replied. “There are a lot of people who aren’t too sure your ambassadorship will succeed.”
“Well, let’s make good steps tonight towards ensuring that both of us keep our jobs,” Katrina said. “Just remember, nothing but English, and try your best to always, always be politic. You’ll probably see some things that shock you. Keep a polite smile on your face, and we’ll be fine.”
The main console beeped, and Da’al brought the shuttle down, landing at the predesignated coordinates. Already, a small honor guard was present, in full dress uniforms to greet them. She could see Ross Hunt waiting for them at the end of a short red carpet. She wondered where it came from. The shuttle set down quietly, without raising any dust, and she could see in Hunt’s face a bit of surprise. They didn’t know about the antigrav technology.
“Governor Hunt, it’s a pleasure to be invited to Iova City,” she said once one of the honor guards came forward and opened the door for her. She waited for Da’al and Brynnda to exit the shuttle as well before introducing them. “This is my partner, Da’al, and my chief of staff, Brynnda. Both of them have Iovan family names, but we cannot replicate the sounds.”
“Ambassador Cole, it’s an honor to have you join us for dinner,” Hunt replied. “This is my wife Lydia, and my chief of staff, Tadanobu Clodtz. If you would please follow me, the dinner is at our new City Hall.”
“I’m interested to see how that’s coming along,” Katrina replied, her eyes watching as the honor guard was dismissed. She couldn’t fail but notice the crew of Dirts who were there to clean up from the landing. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she knew Da’al had also seen them. She mentally thanked him for keeping his thoughts to himself, and for not saying anything about Hunt not offering to shake hands with either Brynnda or himself.
They left the landing pad quickly, stepping onto packed turf momentarily before they came to Hunt’s hovercraft. “The roads are laid out, but we obviously haven’t had time to do much paving,” Hunt explained. Brynnda crossed slowest of the group, the springy ground playing hell with her heels, before everyone climbed in. “As you know Ambassador, the Glori
ous Enterprise brought enough materials to build shelters, but we didn’t exactly plan for paved streets. I have engineers looking now for an acceptable native material we could use to form concrete and other building materials. Until then, we’re roughing it here.”
“I see,” Da’al said evenly, his eyes going towards the crude huts and hovels that were Dirt homes. Katrina could feel his disgust flow through their link, and wondered if these sights confirmed or just reinforced his notions of humanity after her stories and shared memories. She couldn’t even begin to think what Brynnda was thinking, without really knowing the memories she had shared with Da’al. “You have done a lot in a very short time.”
Hunt however was oblivious, smiling as if he had been given a great compliment. “Thank you, sir. Ah, here we are. As you can see, we’ve started to break down sections of the Glorious Enterprise herself in order to provide building materials. The City Hall in fact is built from some of the upper decks, so if some of it looks like it is from a starship…. well, it was. We’re working on converting the engines into power plants soon, so we have plenty of energy for industry.”
Katrina nodded absently, noting to herself as they entered the City Hall that she was familiar with the layout. It wasn’t just some of the upper decks, Hunt had literally had the entire first class passenger area lifted out of the ship and flown over. About the only big differences she could see was the emergency bulkhead pressure doors had been either removed or withdrawn, since there was no longer a chance of depressurization. She could even detect the subtle curve of the wall that used to be the outer hull of the ship. Their shoes echoed faintly on the thin carpeted floor, which had been constructed for soft shoed usage only. “If you’ll follow me upstairs, our banquet hall awaits. The steps are a bit narrow and tight, in order to save energy and materials I had them install the former lift shafts connecting this section to the rest of the ship.”
“It’s a remarkable exercise in recycling and repurposing,” Katrina commented, actually somewhat impressed. “I didn’t know the Earth government had put so much thought into the construction of the ship.”
“They didn’t, but I decided that having an orbiting ship was not as important as the immediate needs of the colony. Besides, it gives us the raw materials to make sure we have safety and security in our new home.”
“I do hope you do not view the Iovans as a threat, Governor.”
Hunt shook his head. “Not at all Ambassador. But there is a lot we don’t know about this planet. It would be foolish to assume that everything will be as friendly as the Iovans.”
They reached the banquet room, where she was introduced to the small colonial ministerial staff. She noted most of them were former senior members of the ship’s staff. Already she could tell that even among the so-called Peers, stratification was beginning.
It was strange being seated at the head of the table, next to Hunt. She understood she was supposed to be the guest of honor, but it was her first time ever being seated among the higher levels of society. Her eyes were drawn time and time again to the Dirt servants who carried in the plates of food for the party. She could tell a few of them identified who she was, and in all of them she could see the same thing in their eyes: betrayal.
She wanted to say something to them, but what was she supposed to say? I’m not like these other people. I’m not even a Peer! I’m still one of you!? It wouldn’t be believed even if she could say it. Caught up in her own internal dialogue, she missed a question from the Lieutenant Governor, who she remembered was named Raul Quinones. “I’m sorry, say that again please? I was lost in my soup, it seems.”
Raul laughed at her deflection. “I asked if you’ve had any problems with food or other things living with the aliens. I’m sure you’ve missed having real food around.”
She felt Da’al’s flash of annoyance over their psychic link, and had to stifle her own sharp retort. “Actually, Iovan food is quite delicious. They delight in creating a good balance of tart and sweet and salty. Some of the native fruits are amazingly delicious. If you’d like, I’d be happy to have my office prepare a file on human safe native plants and animals, and have it sent over. After all, it must be difficult still living on space rations and stored food until your first batch of crops comes in.”
The agricultural minister, who she thought was named Ndonga, spoke up. “My office would be happy to get it, Ambassador. Of course, we’d want to double check for ourselves. No offense, but there might be allergic reactions or people with weaker stomachs who cannot handle what you can. You seem to be a very strong woman.”
“Years of day labor on the moon and other places will do that for you, Minister,” Katrina replied sweetly. At the mention of her Dirt history, the conversation muted, and a barely polite chill descended over the entire dinner. When the desserts were finished, Katrina and her party were glad to make their way towards the launch field.
“By the way,” Governor Hunt said as the hovercraft navigated the streets to the launch site, “my wife insisted that I send along what she calls a care package. So if you don’t mind, I took the liberty of checking your old ship’s profile, and next to your shuttle you’ll find a box of clothing. I do hope it all fits, if not please inform my office.”
“Of course, Governor. At the same time, let me extend the invitation for you and your wife to visit New Des Moines some time. I owe her at least a dinner and a tour for her generosity.”
“We’ll see what we can do,” Hunt replied in a tone that said he wouldn’t be coming to visit sometime within the next century if he could help it.
The rest of the trip was quiet, and Katrina was glad to be able to shut the door on their shuttle, the package of clothing on the seat beside her. Da’al got clearance from the landing site and lifted off, circling the colony once before setting off for home. As soon as the controls were set on autopilot, he turned to look at Katrina. “That is what the other humans are like?”
Katrina shrugged her shoulders. “The ones with power at least. I’m sorry for their asinine comments.”
Brynnda spoke up for the first time in an hour, ever since the third time a minister had complimented her on her dress in a veiled pass. “They’re assholes.”
“Yes, they are.”
Da’al laughed and looked back at her. “You have nothing to apologize for, love. I only wish Brynnda could have heard some of the thoughts you were thinking during that dinner.”
“It’s just…. the way they treated the other humans. I think you’ve used the term Dirt. What is the origin of that?” Brynnda asked.
“There’s been a few various origins told,” Katrina replied. “In one of them, it’s because supposedly we’re all dumber than dirt, although where I grew up the saying was dumber than a box of rocks. Another supposed origin is that since they are the only ones who do manual labor, they are the ones who get dirty, hence Dirt. There’s a few others I’ve heard, but my brain is too damn tired to think about it right now.”
Brynnda nodded. “They kept staring at my chest too. Is it that the dress makes me look fat or something?”
Da’al and Katrina both guffawed, and it took Katrina a moment to collect herself. “Brynnda, for humans, a woman’s chest is seen as a very attractive feature. Your breasts are huge and very firm by human standards, Brynnda. Most of the men were staring because you are very sexually attractive to them, despite their pretty obvious xenophobia.”
“When any of them come to our city, I will not be wearing such a stupid piece of clothing,” Brynnda replied. “And if they cannot control themselves any better than a boy going through puberty, then I plan on wearing the least revealing clothing I have.”
“Don’t worry, I doubt many will want to visit for a long time,” Da’al said. “I could see it in their faces. They were glad when we left.”
“I know. Give me your opinion, you two. What do you think is going to happen?”
Da’al shook his head, not willing to guess, but Brynnda spoke up. “I ex
pect that as long as the Peers are in charge, and they keep the mindset they have, the Iovan people will not want to interact with humans at all. With rare exceptions such as yourself of course.”
“Of course.”
Chapter 9
Things progressed slowly for Katrina in her role as ambassador. Ross Hunt’s promise to visit never materialized, but he did at least send over some minor officials to set up some trade negotiations. Humans were very interested in Iovan antigravity technology, while the Iovans were intrigued by human music. There were other areas for trade, as well.
“It’s a shame your people have regressed so much,” Brynnda said one morning as she and Katrina handled some routine paperwork. “I spent last night listening to the newest music files that were sent over. There are some very good pieces in there.”
“Really? What did you like?” Katrina replied, sighing as she took a sip of tea. The box of tea bags had been a gift from Iova City, as a thank you for the successful negotiations for a trading outpost to be set up at the edge of Iovan and human territory. The biggest challenge was getting the Iovans and humans to agree to divide the continent they lived on, and to delineate it so that both groups could at least somewhat cooperate. The original human idea was to divide the continent equally, while the Iovans wanted a division based off of proportion of the population. In the end, neither side got exactly what they wanted. The land was divided two thirds for the Iovans and one third for the humans, with the question of other land masses being deemed for negotiation at a later time, with no permanent settlement or usage to be done by either side without negotiation. “I like the neo-jazz period of the twenty second century myself, but I have a guilty admission to listening to more than my fair share of popular singers when I was in high school. I actually had an Orange Stardust poster on my wall at home for a while.”
