by E. M. Foner
Book Night on Union Station
Copyright 2017 by E. M. Foner
One
“In conclusion, it is the view of Union Station Embassy that the Eccentric Enterprises project must shift its focus from promoting Earth’s brand on alien worlds to supporting far-flung human populations, thereby allowing EarthCent to expand its role in providing a base level of infrastructure for building human societies.”
“Great stuff, Ambassador, though I wish you hadn’t given me so much credit in your run-up to the conclusion.”
“You deserve it, Daniel. That’s why I asked you to come in and listen to my weekly report.”
“I know I deserve it, I’m just afraid that EarthCent will decide to punish me for the idea by putting me in charge. I’m already stretched to the limit for time, and Shaina has Queenie trained to fink on me if I try to sneak in conference calls outside of office hours. Do you have any idea how much it costs in treats to bribe a Cayl hound to look the other way?”
“Well, even the Stryx can’t turn back the clock, so it’s too late to change the report now. If your name comes up next time I talk to the president, I’ll tell him that you’re too busy planning the next Sovereign Human Communities Conference.”
“Don’t do that,” Daniel said, looking truly horrified. “He’ll try to assign us more staff and we’ll have to spend all of our time training them.”
“Maybe your wife has a point about you being overworked.”
“It’s just that we have sovereign communities in every time zone that exists, with overlapping lengths of days and weekends. Somebody, somewhere, is always arriving at work Monday morning and discovering a new fire that needs putting out. I’d rather that they check in with me than accidentally trigger another trade war. You remember what happened last year with prospecting equipment?”
The ambassador winced. “I get your point. Tell you what. I’ll ask Donna to give you some money out of petty cash for dog treats.”
“Thank you.”
Kelly stood up and accompanied Daniel to the door. “Don’t let Shaina forget that next week is our first book club meeting. I hope she had time to finish the selection.”
“Why couldn’t you have picked a nice normal book?” the assistant ambassador complained. “She’s started drinking coffee at night so she can keep her eyes open long enough to get through a couple of chapters, and then she can’t sleep and complains about the story.”
“The novel isn’t quite what I expected either, but I thought it would be fun to start with a critically acclaimed book. It won all of the major awards on Earth.”
“I didn’t know anybody on Earth still read,” he said, pausing at the door until Kelly waved open the security lock that she always activated for her weekly reports to EarthCent.
As soon as the door slid shut behind Daniel, the ambassador looked back at the empty space of her office and demanded, “Well?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Libby replied immediately.
“You must have an opinion about my proposal to EarthCent. Aren’t you always saying that humanity needs to start building institutions if we’re ever going to be able to stand on our own?”
“Of course, and Gryph has a proposal for you that may dovetail into your plans.”
“Wait a minute,” Kelly said. “What weren’t you going to say anything about then?” The Stryx librarian failed to reply. “Come on, Libby. I hate it when you make me guess because you don’t want to hurt my feelings. I’ll just feel even worse when I eventually figure it out.”
“That does seem to be the pattern we’ve fallen into. All right then. It’s your book club selection that puzzles me.”
“You’ve read it?”
“I am first and foremost a librarian, you know. I read everything.”
“Including literary fiction?”
“Is that how you’d classify the book? I filed it under ‘Hallucinatory Autobiographies,’ since ‘Embellished’ didn’t quite capture its distance from reality.”
“No, it’s a novel,” Kelly protested before remembering who she was talking to. “You really classified it as an autobiography?”
“It makes more sense than creating a new category for one book, which can get out of hand quickly when you’re responsible for a catalog system.”
The ambassador sat back down at her desk and picked up her copy of the thick paperback, which weighed much less than one would have expected thanks to the cheap paper it was printed on. She peered thoughtfully at the grotesquely distorted image of a woman on the cover. “That would explain some of those scenes that didn’t quite fit together. I kept thinking that I must have missed something, but the print is so small and I didn’t want to keep going back and checking. How do you think it won all of those awards?”
“How does Daniel keep the dog from alerting Shaina when he’s sneaking holo conferences in the bathroom?”
“Treats? I mean, bribes? I guess I should have read the book before making the selection, but it really is well edited. And the author uses language like a paintbrush.”
“Her eyes were the exact shade of blue that Jonathan remembered from the Squeeze Pops of his childhood,” Libby recited dramatically. “Not the dark blue pop that came between the neon green and the blushing red, but the ethereal blue that completed the eight-pack, next to the orange which tasted but faintly of its namesake. His mother would separate the flavored sticks of frozen water with pearl-handled sewing scissors that her great-grandmother had smuggled out of—”
“Alright, I get it,” Kelly interrupted. “But what can I do? It’s already too late to ask everybody to buy something else.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t assign the other book you’re reading.”
“Economics For Humans?” The ambassador took up the large, nearly-square book with the title spelled out in foil letters on the spine. “I guess I have been reading it every chance I get. Ambassador Srythlan presented it to me as a gift, which means that the Verlocks must be keeping an eye on the newspaper’s new book-publishing arm.”
“Are you learning anything from it?”
“I can’t believe that I used to let this stuff scare me. When you get the vocabulary out of the way, most of it is just common sense, and I love the illustrations and the hand-drawn picture frames around the really important stuff. But it wouldn’t work for our book club because it’s not fiction.”
“Most of your academic economists would say that’s a matter of opinion.”
“You mean this isn’t just a dumbed-down version of what they teach back on Earth?”
“I sincerely doubt that the author ever spent a day on Earth in his life.”
“Well, I think that it’s great, and now that you’ve reminded me, I’m going to ping Chastity tonight and thank her for publishing it.”
“That won’t be necessary,” the Stryx librarian said.
“What? Don’t tell me that I’ve already thanked her and forgotten. No, on second thought, do tell me. If my memory is going, I want to hide it from people as long as possible.”
“Chastity and Walter are on their way here to see you, and you haven’t forgotten anything of importance lately. They contacted me while you were filing your weekly report to ask me if you would be in your office.”
“I wonder why they didn’t make an appointment. Do you think they waited on purpose until Donna left for the weekend?”
“Is that a rhetorical question or do you wish me to speculate?”
“Uh, rhetorical, I guess. Good thing that Dorothy is cooking tonight so I don’t have to hurry home. I hope that her sudden interest in domestic skills means that a grandchild is finally on the horizon.” Kelly rose from her desk and headed for the
outer office to greet the visitors when they arrived. She glanced at the closed door of her associate ambassador’s office and asked, “Is Daniel still here?”
“He grabbed his things and went home right after he left you,” Libby said. “His whole family is going to a party for ‘Let’s Make Friends’ tonight. It’s Mike’s final turn in the cast rotation.”
“I’m positive Fenna told me that Mike and Spinner have three more weeks to run. We’re planning a surprise party of our own for them.”
“Aisha asked me to find her the latest date before the end of the cast rotation that worked out to a weekend for the six biological species currently on the show. Tonight is the equivalent of a Sunday morning for the Dollnicks, but they were always a tough match.”
The door to the embassy slid open, and the publisher of the Galactic Free Press and her managing editor entered. Chastity peeked at the reception desk to make sure her mother had gone home before greeting the ambassador.
“Did you wait on purpose until you knew Donna would have left for the day?” Kelly asked.
“We have a business proposition for you and I thought you should have the right to consider it privately,” Chastity said.
“You can’t possibly need any amount that I could invest. If I had your money, I’d throw my money away.”
“It’s your brain we’re after,” Walter said.
“But I’m not done with it yet. Come back and ask after I’m dead. What would you do with my brain anyway?”
“Don’t be so literal. We want to hire you to write a book.”
“Me? But I’ve never written anything longer than a report, and I’ve been dictating them to Libby for years and years.”
“So it’s about time you tried,” Chastity said brightly. “We want to add a book about EarthCent to the For Humans series and you’re the ideal person for the job.”
“It’s practically a fill-in-the-blanks exercise,” Walter told the ambassador. “Our development staff has already prepared a detailed outline and we just want somebody with a diplomatic background to flesh it out and add some funny anecdotes to connect with readers.”
“Blythe is furious that I thought of hiring EarthCent Intelligence analysts to moonlight as researchers and fact-checkers for our books,” Chastity added smugly. “She’s planning on having Eccentric Enterprises start its own publishing company as soon as she can come up with a good branding concept.”
“I’ve been reading Economics For Humans and I think that it’s brilliant,” Kelly said. “Do you mean to tell me that it was written by some moonlighting intelligence analysts according to a formula?”
“No, the author brought us that one.”
“Come to think of it, I didn’t see a name on the cover.”
“That was his choice,” Walter said. “Maybe he was worried about what his peers would think.”
“We primarily use analysts on books related to aliens. We’ve published, what, six dozen books in the series so far?” Chastity said, glancing at Walter, who nodded in confirmation. “About a third of the books are by Galactic Free Press correspondents, leveraging content from their published articles, and the rest are from outside authors, who we give varying levels of support. We started getting unsolicited submissions almost immediately after we published the first book in the series six months ago.”
“That was the one about safe foods for humans, right?”
“Eating For Humans, written by our food editor, Katya Wysecki.”
“The woman with the tattoo who testified at the Horten piracy hearing?”
“That’s her, and ironically, it’s become the most pirated book on the tunnel network, at least in English. Isn’t that right, Libby?”
“A remarkable achievement given the competition from hallucinatory autobiographies,” the Stryx librarian replied dryly.
“Does it, uh—will I?” Kelly hesitated.
“Get paid?” Chastity prompted her.
“I don’t really know anything about the publishing business.”
“You’ll earn a royalty on every copy sold,” Walter said, and produced a sheaf of paper and a gold fountain pen from his battered leather valise. “I drew up a contract. It’s all standard language that will put you to sleep if you try reading it.”
“That’s great,” Kelly said, accepting the contract and pushing away the pen. “I’ll wait until I’m ready for bed to go over it.”
“Don’t you trust me, Aunty Kelly?” Chastity asked, attempting to sound like a little girl.
“Implicitly. And after my Grenouthian contract debacle, I recall both you and your sister telling me never to sign anything without reading it. In fact, I believe your exact advice was to never sign anything without asking Libby to read it.”
“Well, give it back, then,” Walter said with a sigh.
“That’s it? If you don’t get everything your way the offer is withdrawn?”
“No. It’s just that we have a different contract for authors who make a fuss,” Walter said, producing a much thinner sheaf of paper. “Trade.”
“It’s just standard business practice,” Chastity told the ambassador without the slightest sign of embarrassment. “By the way, I’m going to have to skip your book club meeting. I couldn’t get past the first chapter of An Incomplete Tragedy. It reminded me too much of really bad reporting.”
“Brinda keeps accidentally spilling hot chocolate on her copy,” Walter commented as he replaced the sucker contract in his valise. “I think she’s hoping the dog will eventually try chewing on it so she’ll have an excuse to give up.”
“Do you think anybody will be mad if I change the selection to something else with only six days to go?” Kelly asked.
“Just make it something we’ve all read, like the latest Bea Hollinder,” Chastity told her.
“That name sounds familiar.”
“Familiar? She’s the bestselling romance novelist alive. I’m hoping to serialize her next book in the paper but she wants five million creds for first publication rights.”
“Five million!”
“I’ll probably pay it in the end. Her books are even selling decently in translation to some alien languages, which is a first for a human author. Who else is coming to the club?”
“Your mom, Shaina and Brinda, Lynx, you and Blythe, Dring, maybe Dorothy if we change the book, and Judith.” Kelly paused, looking at the four extended fingers on her left hand and the curled pinkie where she had left off counting. “I would have sworn I was planning on ten.”
“Aisha?” Walter guessed.
“No, she had to be somewhere.”
“You?” Chastity suggested.
“That’s it. I guess I’ll have to ping everybody. What’s the title of Bea Hollinder’s latest?”
“Her Only Choice. I’ll see you next week, then.”
After Chastity and Walter left the embassy, Kelly sat down and pinged the other women in her nascent book club to inform them of the change. It turned out that she was the only one who hadn’t read the Hollinder book yet, and she made a mental note to drop in and tell Dring about it when she got back to Mac’s Bones.
“So what was Gryph’s offer, Libby?” the ambassador asked, figuring the longer she could procrastinate arriving home, the more likely Dorothy would get somebody else to help her in the kitchen.
“You know that we welcome all visiting artificial intelligences to take our sentience test, and upon passing, grant them the full rights of tunnel network members.”
“Sure, and you provided mortgages for Thomas and Chance to buy bodies.”
“And we’re still waiting for Chance to make a payment,” Libby noted. “In most cases, the artificial intelligence in question is already recognized as an independent agent by its creators, but Dollnick colony ship AIs have always fallen into a grey area.”
“I didn’t even know the Dollnicks had developed artificial intelligence. Why the special case?”
“A colony ship isn’t just a pile of processors
or a robot. It’s a highly complex ecosystem designed to support a biological population for very long periods of time, without access to shipyards or resupply. In the case of the Dollnick AIs, sentience is spontaneously achieved during the ship’s construction phase as the systems come online, and in the millions of years that they’ve been building this way, none of the AIs who developed have ever consented to a Stryx back-up.”
“How long do colony ships last?”
“With proper maintenance and replacement parts, there is no set limit to their lifetimes, and the AI sometimes transfer themselves to new ships under construction, allowing the older vessel to be repurposed or sold off to another species. In very rare cases, something happens to cause the Dollnicks to lose trust in a ship, leading to its abandonment. Something like that happened to a colony ship a few thousand years ago, and we have done what we can to keep Flower’s spirits up and find her gainful employment.”
“Flower?”
“A pretty name for a colony ship, don’t you think? She’s on her way to Union Station after completing a job for us relocating refugees from an unfortunate conflict between two species you haven’t encountered. Gryph has talked to her about accepting work with EarthCent and she’s willing to give it a try, with certain conditions. As you would be doing us a favor in keeping her busy, the Stryx are willing to subsidize the lion’s share of her expenses.”
“A Dolly colony ship? But they’re huge! I’ve heard that their standard complement is like five million Dollnicks, and they’re a lot taller than us. Plus, we can’t eat any of their food that I’m aware of, so all of the agricultural decks would need replanting.”
“Minor details,” Libby said, brushing aside the ambassador’s objections. “Don’t forget that colony ships often double as terraforming vessels, and it’s much easier for Flower to repurpose her internal space than to create a biosphere on a rocky planet. While she remains adamant about preserving a portion of her Dollnick flora and fauna for her eventual return to colony ship service, she is otherwise reasonably flexible.”
“So she’s hoping that the Dollnicks take her back?”
