“Because of the fact that the translingualphone cannot adequately translate the message of the respected Representative from Wavry,” said Mr. Rejilla, “I will translate. You may find what the Member is saying to you a little flowery and also official-sounding; but unfortunately that is the only way it translates into words. It would go much better in music, where it would sound like an anthem of praise by some great composer. However, I will do the best I can.”
“I’m sure,” said Lucy, graciously, “your translation will do it justice, Mr. Rejilla.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Rejilla. “In the usual Human language in which you and Tom normally converse, then, this is what the Representative from Wavry is saying—”
His own voice took on some official overtones.
“—To you, magnificent and resplendent Lucy, for whom the winds on the thousand thousand worlds of this Sector sigh, and the oceans of a thousand thousand planets wave and sparkle in praise—to whom uncounted Beings acknowledge honor and gratitude; we have been advised, valiant and remarkable Lucy, that over the history of your Race on your native world, those for whom cries of praise have ascended most often, and for whom the largest ransoms have been paid, tend to possess an important name and an item of apparel which distinguishes them from other Humans; and so we wish to present you with the name of “First Being of our Galaxy” and a suitable matching item of apparel.”
The Council Member from Wavry paused; and Lucy opened her mouth to reply appropriately. But it had evidently been only a ceremonial pause. The branches began to wave again.
“We offer this to you,” translated Mr. Rejilla, “with the deep gratitude of all of us in this galaxy whom you have saved—Mr. Rejilla, if you will be so kind—”
He stopped.
“—Those last words, of course,” he said in his ordinary voice, “were directed at me.” He reached out and pulled the cover off the object on the padded platter.
Lucy found herself looking at a delicately beautiful crown, a circle of several woven bands of gold and silver, widening in front to a much more intricate device, showing a mountain standing on its head. All of it was rich with jewels; and the jewels radiated colors as if there was a light inside each one of them, so that, all together, they created a halo, with every color of the rainbow circling around the crown itself.
Mr. Rejilla took the crown reverently off its platter and lifted it toward Lucy’s head.
“—If you’ll excuse me,” he said to the space just above Lucy’s head. A horde of little voices squeaked back agreeably; and Lucy, looking upward, saw the tiny stars that had been dancing around her head flying forward to become a ring in the air, clearly waiting until the crown should be placed on her and they invited to return.
“Why, thank you—” said Lucy, hastily; and as soon as it became evident that Lucy was going to speak, Mr. Rejilla held the crown where it was, waiting for her to make whatever answering speech might be in her mind.
“—It’s a very wonderful gift indeed,” Lucy went on. “I couldn’t have imagined a gift as fine as this; and I can’t find the words to tell you how happy I am that you would want to give it to me. But I really don’t think I should take it, or the name you gave me. Why don’t I accept both in spirit only, but leave the actual gifts themselves with you, to commemorate this moment—”
She broke off, turned her head sideways and hissed at Tom.
“Tom! Will you stop pulling at me!”
“But Lucy!” muttered Tom under his breath. “You can’t turn this down! Aside from the fact you’ve earned it, you’ll disappoint them, if you don’t take it. Think first—”
Lucy risked a glance about them. Mr. Rejilla, the other Representatives, and everyone else within earshot, were all elaborately looking away, obviously ignoring the private conversation going on between Tom and her.
“Don’t you understand, Tom?” she whispered fiercely back at him. “I can’t—the way they’re thinking about us back on Earth, now. They’re all so sure we’ve both of us just been feathering our own nest at their expense; not giving a hoot for them, but getting everything we can for ourselves. They might still change their minds sometime before we die; but how can they ever accept us back on Earth if I come parading in with a crown like this on my head and calling myself the First Being of our Galaxy! I mustn’t accept it!”
“Oh!” said Tom. “Well . . .”
Mr. Rejilla made an awkward, but quiet, sound, next to Lucy’s ear. Lucy looked at him swiftly.
“Forgive me,” said Mr. Rejilla. “I could not help— that is, I inadvertently overheard—several of the words you spoke to Tom. I don’t think you should conclusions-jump so quickly. May I show you something first, before you make your refusal official?”
“Show me what?” asked Lucy.
“If you would just look . . said Mr. Rejilla. “Look down toward the front of the audience directly before you. I will arrange a little assistance so that you can see that part more clearly.”
Lucy and Tom—for Tom had been leaning in to hear what Mr. Rejilla had to say—both turned their eyes onto the great crowd before them. A sort of magnifying-glass effect seemed to form in the air before them, making a circle perhaps four feet wide. As they looked through this, their viewpoint seemed to zoom in on the audience and particularly on two figures there, holding aloft one more of the kind of banners they had seen so much of on the way here. But this one was lettered in perfectly correct English.
TOM AND LUCY COME HOME
EARTH LOVES YOU!
Holding up the pole that supported one end of the banner, and beaming, was Domango Aksisi. Holding up the other end with one hand was Albert Miles, who was also trying very hard to smile agreeably. In his free hand he waved aloft several newspapers; and with the advantage of the telescopic circle through which they looked Lucy was able to make out part of the headline on one of the papers: “OUR HEROES, LUCY AND TOM!” And below, in only slightly smaller print: “—Earth Readies for Triumphal Return.”
“Earth learned of your victory from our experts sent to recheck the Human Aggression profile,” said Mr. Rejilla. “Perhaps a little more magnification—”
The telescopic effect increased its power—so much so that not only was sweat on Miles’ face visible, but also tears rolling down Domango’s lace. As they watched, a Being suspiciously similar to an anonymous, but very Earth-like, spider suddenly ran up from the bottom of the banner to its top, in the center of the banner itself; and it seemed—to Tom at least—that it posed there for a moment, with its two front legs locked together at the tips above its head, like the hands of a boxer congratulating himself on a win.
One of the papers slipped slightly in Miles’ frantic grasp, and Lucy read the last two words of another headline that read: “—FOR US.”
“Well!” said Lucy; and an inspiration soared up suddenly inside her. She turned to Mr. Rejilla.
“On second thought,” she said, “I’ll be only too happy to accept, with many, many, heart-felt thanks, the beautiful crown and title you’ve given me—in the name of all those who ever were or are in our own Human Race, and on behalf of Tom and Rex, as well, without whom I would not be here now to receive it!”
—And the cheers of countless Alien Beings split the Cayahno skies, as Rex, now winning with excitement, leaped into the air above their heads, barking excitedly.
“Mountains! Where Mountains? Kill Mountains! Kill! Kill!” he roared telepathically out at the crowd, dog-paddling around overhead.
“Rex!” veiled Tom, furiously. Rex stopped barking, stopped telepathing, and slunk back down through the air to crouch silently at Tom’s side.
The Council Members recovered from the stunned immobility into which they had fallen, and proceeded with the presentation of Lucy’s gifts.
“When did Rex learn to fly like that?” Tom whispered to Mr. Rejilla, who was standing beside him. But Mr. Rejilla was looking away and refused to answer.
THE END
Gordon R Dickson, The Magnificent Wilf
The Magnificent Wilf Page 26
