Carnival On Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 5)

by E. M. Foner

  “What’s she saying? What are YOU saying?” Dorothy interrupted.

  “They think your mother just invited them to move in, so I was explaining to them that she always tells guests to make themselves at home,” Mist said.

  “And you can do that just by looking at each other?” Dorothy asked excitedly. “You have to teach me.”

  “I don’t think I can,” Mist replied. “Remember this morning when we were playing ‘Flying Dragon’ with Samuel, and your mother came in? She just looked at you, and then you said we had to stop because she didn’t like it.”

  “Oh, so it only works in your family,” Dorothy said, nodding sagely. “Let’s read it again, and I get to be Prince Phillip this time.”

  The Gem delegation, relieved to find that they weren’t expected to come and live in the strange home, wandered separately around the large area that combined an informal dining room with a living room. Matilda marveled over the bookcases stuffed with paperback reprints of classic literature, while Gwendolyn hovered over the sleeping baby in his crib, and Sue closely examined the furniture.

  Kelly soon returned with a tray, which she placed on the coffee table between the couch and the two mismatched over-stuffed chairs. “Drinks are ready,” she announced, taking her own mug of tea and settling herself in the blue chair.

  “Did you know that your furniture is full of money?” Sue asked, pouring a handful of Stryx creds onto the tray before taking her wine. “I worked as a house cleaner before we started the ag deck remediation project, but I’ve never seen so many coins in a single couch.”

  “I guess I’ve been taking a bit of a break from cleaning since Sammy joined us, and we do have a lot of guests,” Kelly confessed, somewhat embarrassed that the Gem had discovered her secret loathing of housework.

  “You have so many words printed on paper,” Matilda exclaimed, taking a seat on the couch and accepting her tea. “Is this the old central archive for EarthCent?”

  “Those are all novels,” Kelly explained through the voice box. “Stories for grown-ups. We read them instead of watching holo-whatever. Aren’t you going to come over and drink your coffee before it gets cold, Gwen?” she addressed the clone, who was still lingering over the baby.

  “Sorry, yes,” Gwendolyn replied, hurrying over to the couch and seating herself next to Matilda. “Have you told the ambassador about our implant decision yet?”

  “I was just getting to it,” the Free Gem leader replied. “We have heard back from our scattered sisters, and they are willing to accept Stryx help with the Farlings. In addition, we’ve decided that those of us in daily contact with aliens will purchase new implants as soon as we have the funds. They just won’t be Gem implants.”

  “The ones provided by the Stryx are excellent, but watch out for the End User License Agreement,” Kelly told them. “Listen. I had our spy people over to sweep this room just before you came, and there aren’t any bugs that we could detect. Can you confirm that it’s safe to talk?”

  Sue looked down at her bracelet and nodded.

  “The Free Gem have reached a consensus that a direct military confrontation is neither feasible nor desirable,” Matilda said after a pause. “This leaves us with two options. First, we do everything possible to get word to our sisters that it’s possible to live outside of the Empire, and if enough of us leave, perhaps it will crumble on its own. Second, we can attempt to contact the Empire through diplomatic channels and see if we can reach a compromise. My sisters are only starting to learn about negotiating as we try to increase our wages. We were hoping that you might contact the local Gem ambassador to arrange a meeting for us.”

  “That sounds like a tremendously positive approach,” Kelly replied enthusiastically. Even though Dring wasn’t present to bat around quotes, she decided to add a little literary flourish to celebrate the occasion. “After all, you can no more win a war than a hurricane, and war does not determine who is right, only who is left.”

  The voice box remained silent, making Kelly wonder if it was refusing to translate her plagiarism of famous people without attribution. Some new kind of copyright protection algorithm? The Gem waited expectantly, so she racked her memory and tried again.

  “There was never a good war or a bad peace, and the two most powerful warriors are patience and time.”

  The voice box remained silent.

  “Would anyone like some mixed nuts?” she ventured, just as a test to make sure the hardware was still working.

  Nothing.

  “Mix, mixing, mixer, mixed,” Matilda said. “Are you offering us peanut butter? It’s very good.”

  “Not exactly,” the EarthCent ambassador muttered, giving the voice box a thump. The little red light on the front flickered and died, and in doing so, reminded her that it was usually a little green light. Was that the battery indicator?

  “I’m sorry,” Kelly said. “I guess somebody forgot to recharge the voice box. Let me invite the Stryx librarian to translate for us.”

  Matilda waved off this suggestion, and the three clones stared at each other significantly for a moment, communicating silently.

  “We request you let Mist translate for us,” Sue said softly. “She is always asking to help, and she even contributed her prize for winning hide-and-seek to the cause.”

  “What a good idea,” Kelly agreed. Using a ten-year-old as a filter would probably cut back on cultural misunderstandings, since the girl wouldn’t make the kind of assumptions an adult might. “Dorothy tells me she’s practically fluent already, and she has her external translation device if she misses a word.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand most of that, but I think you agreed,” Matilda replied. “Perhaps you can contact the Gem ambassador through the Stryx while I explain to Mist what we need.”

  “Right, there’s no time like the present,” Kelly said, her mind now overflowing with truisms. “Libby? Can you ping the Gem ambassador for me?”

  “Voice only,” the Stryx librarian replied. “She is acknowledging now.”

  “Ambassador Gem?” Kelly asked.

  “Yes, I am here, Queen of the Carnival. What do you want?”

  “I’ve been asked by a delegation of your sisters who are working on the station to arrange a face-to-face meeting between your two parties…,” Kelly began.

  “The heretics of the so-called Gem Tomorrow?” the ambassador cut her off coldly. “I just received a communiqué from my superiors requesting that I assess the threat posed by the local traitors, and I suppose a meeting, however distasteful, would be the most efficient path. Shall we say, on the first of the next cycle?”

  “But that’s over a month away,” Kelly protested immediately.

  “I believe it is the prerogative of the challenged to set the terms of the meeting,” Ambassador Gem replied, leading Kelly to wonder if she was confusing dialogue with dueling.

  “I’m sorry, she’s instructed me to close the link,” Libby interjected before Kelly could respond.

  “Thank you, Libby, it’s all progress,” Kelly replied.

  “I’m ready Mrs. McAllister,” Mist declared, standing as tall as she could next to Kelly’s chair. She looked even more excited than when she had won the hide-and-seek contest, if that was possible. Dorothy stood alongside, ready to pitch in and help if her mother should prove more difficult to understand than usual.

  “Thank you, Mist,” Kelly said. “You may have just heard that Ambassador Gem has agreed to a meeting on the first of the next cycle, so you’ll have plenty of time to prepare. Perhaps I can be of aid in sketching out the Free Gem position in any negotiations.”

  Mist stared at the three older clones, who now sat together on the couch, and Kelly would have sworn she saw her message being explained through a series of eye twitches and lip purses.

  “It is sufficient that they step aside without causing bloodshed,” Matilda responded. “Whether they remain in a new Gem society or go off on their own makes no difference to us, as long
as they give up controlling the lives of the rest of the sisters, and don’t oppose our attempts to restore biological diversity.”

  “Do you think they’ll agree to that?” Kelly asked. This the senior clone understood without translation.

  “No, but we believe it’s important to ask,” Matilda answered. “As the Free Gem spend more time around the other species, we have learned that there are many ways to make a revolution, and the most important part is to control the media. Our sisters who fled to worlds of some of the advanced species believe that in a short while, we will be able to force our message into the Empire with such power that Gem Today will not be able to compete.”

  “Are you sure you should be telling me this?” Kelly asked. “I’m not a revolutionary strategist, but if you do want to speak with an experienced human campaign planner, I’m sure I can arrange it.”

  Mist translated through another series of silent expressions and twitches, though this time she threw in a hand movement that looked to Kelly like she was drawing a sword and creating a knight.

  “Yes, we would like to meet with a human warrior prince,” Matilda replied. Kelly figured that was a reasonable enough description for Woojin, and it occurred to her that real royalty would probably call a council of war.

  “I’d like to suggest that my staff and I create a workshop on negotiation for you to attend,” Kelly suggested. “It was my best subject in diplomacy school, and I’m sure our, uh, warrior prince would agree that force is the last resort.”

  Mist translated again, this time engaging in an ever-broader array of pantomime, though Kelly couldn’t imagine what was so difficult about her proposal.

  “Are you going to teach us the ambassador game?” Sue asked.

  Kelly cringed. Was there anybody in the galaxy who hadn’t heard of her difficulties on Parents Day?

  “That was just for children,” she explained hastily. “There is quite a lot to negotiating, and role playing is just one of the exercises we’ll use, though it’s an important one.”

  “Playing with food?” Dorothy interrupted, after Mist nudged her for help.

  “Not that kind of roll,” Kelly explained. At times she wished that English wasn’t so loaded with homonyms. “A role is when you pretend to be somebody, like when you and Mist take turns playing the role of Prince Phillip.”

  Mist nodded gravely and launched into a new series of silent explanations for the Free Gem delegation. She even had Dorothy bring the picture book, and seemed to be pointing out highlights of the plot to the older clones, whose intense attention to the performance was almost painful to watch. After waiting patiently for several minutes and finishing her tea, Kelly felt it was time to move the meeting back onto a grown-up basis.

  “I don’t want to spoil the workshop before you attend, but it would be helpful if we talked about what you should expect, so you can communicate with the rest of the Free Gem leadership to avoid confusion,” Kelly interrupted gently.

  Mist spun around, looking guilty, and asked Kelly to repeat herself. Dorothy was annoyed, because she thought she was beginning to crack the code of the silent conversation employed by the clones, though Kelly was worried her daughter would develop a facial tic if she kept up her attempt to mimic her friend’s expressions.

  “I was just saying that your older sisters will get more out of the workshop if they prepare first,” Kelly said.

  Either Matilda was able to understand Kelly’s words directly or Mist had managed the translation in record time, because the oldest clone replied almost immediately.

  “Yes, please,” Matilda said. “Tell us how to prepare.” Then, to Kelly’s surprise, the clone gave her a wink.

  “Well, you start by setting goals, and also alternatives that you could live with,” Kelly said uncertainly, confused by the clone’s playful attitude. “You need to analyze, to, uh, think strongly about what the Empire Gem will want from the negotiation, and practice listening to what Ambassador Gem may say, even if it makes you angry. Emotional control is very important.”

  “Wait for her, Mommy, you’re going too fast,” Dorothy said, watching her friend in concern. But the expression on Mist’s face that worried Dorothy was apparently just her interpretation of ‘emotional control’, and the young clone looked expectantly for the EarthCent ambassador to start again.

  “We, uh, stress verbal communication, though I guess that won’t be necessary in your case,” Kelly continued. “But we do need to focus on problem solving, so you don’t lose hope over some minor points of dispute that have little impact on your overall goal. I suppose you don’t need practice at teamwork or coming to a consensus amongst yourselves, so we’ll drop those exercises.”

  “What’s a consensus?” Mist asked Dorothy, who shrugged her shoulders.

  “An agreement amongst yourselves,” Kelly replied.

  “Yes, that’s correct,” Matilda replied, translating the short sentence herself. “I think we’re all in agreement on how to move forward now.”

  Kelly wasn’t sure why that sounded so ominous.

  Nineteen

  “I really thought we had a good chance at knife throwing,” Shaina groused to Paul, as the Carnival committee members moved on to the next event venue. “Emile never missed a stationary target in our tryouts, and he was even spearing the balls I tossed into the air. The Carnival prospectus really should have made it clear that the contest included knife throwing AND catching. I thought the poor guy was going to have a heart attack.”

  “He was a heck of a good sport to stand in there and make a few grabs,” Paul replied. “He told me afterwards he’d never had knives thrown at him before. Anyway, it’s hard to see how anybody could beat the Dollnicks with their extra arms and long reach. What’s next on the schedule?”

  “Dancing,” Brinda replied after glancing at her tab. “Hopefully it will be a little fairer than the Vergallian ballroom version.”

  “I think that Jingjing has a real shot at winning,” Aisha said enthusiastically. “She was professionally trained in Chinese opera from childhood, and she acted in a number of immersives when she was younger. She even has a new performance piece ready to debut that represents the life-cycle of a tulip.”

  “I’d hold onto your betting money until the lead judge reads the rules,” Stanley cautioned her. “Maybe it’s traditional for the dancers to catch knives.”

  The lift tube opened and the humans spilled out into the lobby of the Drithalia Memorial Culture Center. The facility was located on one of the Verlock decks, and everybody quickly installed their nose filters. The air was hotter and drier than most of the station’s biologicals would prefer, but it was within the permissible range for multi-species events.

  “Is Kelly judging on this panel?” Shaina asked.

  “She didn’t feel qualified,” Aisha replied.

  “What does qualification have to do with it?” Ian demanded. “All she has to do is show up, and as Carnival Queen, her vote is worth as much as two other judges. That’s a big deal on a five-judge panel.”

  “Easy, Ian,” the senior Hadad said, reaching up to pat the pub owner’s shoulder. “You should know by now that our ambassador isn’t a cut-throat competitor.”

  “She’s a milksop,” Ian grumbled.

  “Our seats are this way,” Shaina called, cutting through an unoccupied row in the stone amphitheatre. “It must have cost the Verlocks a fortune to construct this place. Wow, the stone benches are even heated!”

  The humans took their places just as the five judges filed in from an opening that must have led to a ready-room below the stage. Aisha recognized Bork and Czeros, but the other three ambassadors were all strangers to her, and she didn’t even recognize the species of the judge with the gorgeous feathers.

  “Does anybody know what the alien next to the bunny is?” she whispered.

  “They’re called K’dink, or K’plink, I’m not quite sure,” Brinda whispered back. “I didn’t think they were nitrogen/oxygen breathers, but
maybe the ambassador is just holding his breath.”

  “How do you know it’s a he?” her father asked.

  “The males are the colorful ones,” she replied. “The females are a bit drab.”

  The Grenouthian ambassador, who wore a golden sash of office, rose to his feet and began to speak.

  “As the chairman of this Carnival’s dance competition, I am required to go over the rules before we begin,” the giant bunny proclaimed. “First and foremost, there will be no biting, gouging or joint manipulation. Use of paralytic strikes, even if the contact is judged to be incidental, will result in immediate disqualification.”

  “This doesn’t sound promising,” Stanley muttered to Aisha.

  “Contestants will be judged on their individual expression through movement, in addition to the number of times they count coup on the other dancers,” the Grenouthian continued. “As in all formal dance competitions, anybody moving beyond the rope circle, whether accidentally or thrown, will be immediately disqualified.”

  “She’s going to get killed!” Aisha wailed. “And I’m the one who chose her over the Cossack guy with the jump dancing act. At least he would have been wearing boots!”

  “Don’t worry,” Ian reassured her. “She looked like a tough cookie. Well, a small tough cookie.”

  A bell sounded, and the contestants emerged from multiple entrances onto the stage. Some of the dancers were armed with deadly-looking weapons, primarily swords and axes, though there was a Horten whirling five metal balls on narrow chains above his head. Jingjing was dressed in a shapeless garment of brown silk, which with her arms held out in a hoop shape before her, made her look a little like a bulb.

  “It’s a free-for-all, Jingjing,” Aisha yelled in the silence before the dance competition began. “Get out of there!”

  A second bell sounded, and the packed aliens, over a hundred of them, began to dance about. Amazingly, no giant gouts of blood or detached limbs appeared flying through the air, and it quickly became apparent that the dancers weren’t trying to maim each other as much as they were struggling to clear a space where they could perform. The humans lost sight of Jingjing, who wasn’t a tall woman to begin with, and Aisha could only hope that she hadn’t been crushed beneath the feet of the leaping mass of aliens.