by E. M. Foner
“It’s just that you could have tried fifty percent off first,” the Dollnick grumbled. “How much did I make?”
“Libby kept track of who gets what and Donna collected all of the money,” Kelly told him. “She’s around here somewhere.”
“I see her,” Aainda said. “Why is your embassy manager pulling a Frunge wagon?”
“And why is her husband pushing?” the EarthCent ambassador added. “What’s wrong, Stanley? Are the wheels frozen?”
“It’s just heavy,” Donna replied for her husband. “Next time you have a tag sale, borrow your son-in-law’s mini-register so you can accept programmable creds. I swear that the highest value coin I’ve seen all day was five creds, and at least half of these coins are denominated in centees.”
“I suspect your shoppers were taking advantage of the opportunity to clean out their spare-change jars,” Aainda observed. “I suppose it’s a form of poetic justice since we were all cleaning out our closets.”
The Grenouthian ambassador returned with a distended belly, causing Kelly to do a double-take before she remembered that he had a pouch.
“Did you find something you needed?” she asked the giant bunny.
“Free is free,” the ambassador replied complacently. “If I can’t find a use for these things, I can always bring them to your next tag sale.”
“Grill’s heating up,” Joe announced as he passed the ambassadors on his way to the ice harvester. “Can I take any drink orders?”
“Beer,” the four alien ambassadors replied at the same time.
“I’ll come with you and help,” Stanley offered. “No sense in making two trips.”
“Speaking of trips, Dring’s back, and he’ll be eating with us this evening,” Kelly told the ambassadors triumphantly. “Are you finally ready to accept that the whole business about Gryph selling Union Station was just a rumor?”
“We always knew it was a rumor,” Crute said. “We just didn’t know if there was any substance behind it.”
“Our intelligence gave it zero credibility,” the Grenouthian ambassador added.
“But when you came to the pre-convention meeting in my embassy, you claimed to know the auction date!” Kelly protested.
“That’s after my cultural attaché informed me that you were planning a tag sale,” the bunny replied. “I wanted to make sure you’d let me participate.”
“Why didn’t you just ask?”
“The intelligence assessment suggested that if I approached you about participating in your tag sale without using the rumor to provide cover, you would have tried to extract a diplomatic advantage. It wouldn’t have looked good if I let you manipulate me into allowing Humans onto one of our open worlds in return for cleaning the junk out of my embassy.”
“But you agreed to that anyway!”
“In return for the right to establish three Human theme parks, with a point of ownership in each going to yours truly for negotiating the deal,” the Grenouthian replied. “If you add that income stream to my point in ‘Let’s Make Friends’, I’m going to be the wealthiest ambassador on the tunnel network. As a matter of fact, why don’t you donate my share of the tag sale proceeds to your charity for underage contract runaways?”
“I was going to suggest you do the same with my receipts,” the Dollnick ambassador chimed in. “I recently found out that I’m in line for the highest business commendation from the Princely Council in return for my surprising discovery that there’s money to be made in doing business with Humans. It’s a pity there aren’t more of you.”
“Now it’s going to sound like I’m just playing copycat, but of course, you’re welcome to donate whatever was earned from my embassy’s unclaimed goods,” Aainda said. “And I’m thankful for all of the real-world experience you’ve been giving my daughter. Even if our embassy should host an event as large as your CoSHC convention, Aabina’s youth would make it impossible for me to give her the level of responsibility that you and your associate ambassador entrusted to her.”
The three alien ambassadors all turned to Ortha, who shrugged. “Your charity is welcome to take responsibility for the twenty creds I owe the station librarian.”
“Chastity just pinged me,” Donna told Kelly. “The Galactic Free Press is running a front-page article about the source of the Gryph rumor, with a map showing how it spread.”
“Dorothy,” the EarthCent ambassador called to her daughter, who had appeared to browse the picked-over remains of the tag sale for free treasures. “You can take whatever you want before your father recycles the rest. Can you help me bring a few things out for the picnic and then fetch your tab so we can all read the paper?”
“It’s time to feed Margie,” the girl replied, beating a hasty retreat. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Why don’t you all grab some carbon fiber chairs and make yourselves comfortable,” Kelly suggested to the alien ambassadors. “I need to start bringing out the salads and side dishes.”
“I can help,” Aainda volunteered. “I find Human kitchens strangely fascinating. So many interesting gadgets.”
“You can make Dring’s smoothie if you’d like. As soon as I heard he was back, I chopped up plenty of vegetables. All you have to do is put them in the blender and add fruit juice. And if the three of you want something to keep you busy while you’re waiting for your beers,” she addressed the other ambassadors, “you could clean off a couple of those folding tables for our guests.”
By the time Dorothy fed the baby and returned with her tab, Marilla had finished detailing the first reconditioned rental ship with the help of the Horten ambassador’s son. Together with Kevin, the young people appropriated one of the now-cleared tables for their own. The whole Oxford clan showed up next, along with Samuel, who had slept the entire day at their apartment. Aisha led her family over from Baa’s former habitat, accompanied by Daniel and Shaina, who had brought Mike and Grace to play with Fenna.
“Where are Thomas and Chance?” Kelly asked Joe after she finished putting out all of the prepared food. “Did you forget to invite them?”
“I told them I would light the grill at five o’clock so they’ll probably show up around six,” her husband replied. “You know they don’t eat unless they’re undercover and passing as humans. Woojin and Lynx are hosting the president and Hildy on Flower, but they’ll all stop by for drinks in a few hours. Did you invite Bob and Judith?”
“They should be here anytime. I think I told the other ambassadors to come at five-thirty because I thought we’d have to clean up, but there’s hardly anything left to move.”
Joe turned down the flames on the grill and gestured at where the Grenouthian, Dollnick, Horten, and Vergallian ambassadors were drinking beer together and laughing at somebody’s joke. “Do you remember dragging me around visiting all of their embassies twenty-odd years ago when they finally invited you? They used to call themselves the Natural League or something like that, and they looked down on humans for not developing our own interstellar drive. Even ten years ago they would have been embarrassed to be seen socializing with us. You’ve done a good job for EarthCent, Kel.”
“You make it sound like I’m retiring,” the ambassador said. “Are those Vergallian vegan burgers you’re going to broil?”
“Samuel brought a case of them back from the trade show because the Empire Convention Center wouldn’t let him set up a grill in the booth. I want to use them up on the aliens so they don’t sit in the freezer, and they aren’t terrible after a few minutes on the fire if you add enough condiments.”
“Oh, here come Bob and Judith. I’ll see if he knows anything about the Gryph rumor.”
“Bork and Czeros just came in as well, so Srythlan is probably shuffling along behind them,” Joe said. “You go ahead and socialize and I’ll bring over a platter of these burgers as soon as there’s enough to go around.”
Kelly wasn’t surprised to find that the Galactic Free Press reporter was taking advantage of th
e presence of the alien ambassadors to lobby for future interviews. She stopped by the bar cart on her way over to pick up a bottle of wine for Czeros, and smiled to herself when she realized that the ambassadors had arranged themselves around the folding tables in the same order as they sat in her embassy’s conference room.
“So what can you tell us about the Gryph rumor, Bob?” Kelly asked at the first opportunity.
“You haven’t seen the article?”
“I’m getting too old to read anything off of my heads-up display.”
“Then to make a long story short, the reporter who was covering my beat while I was on special assignment to the CoSHC conference ran the rumor to ground. It started when a dishwasher at the Italian place in the Little Apple asked his boss for a raise. She said something like, ‘When Gryph sells Union Station,’ and it took off from there.”
“How? I don’t understand.”
“Apparently the dishwasher had a habit of finishing off the glasses of wine and beer that came back in bus pans, so he mistook his boss’s meaning and pinged a group of friends to go out and celebrate his raise after work. As soon as he told them what the manager said, they all figured out that she had rejected him, but kids being kids, they turned it into a sort of a meme. For the next few days, the whole bunch of them kept referring to Gryph selling Union Station in every conversation, and since one of them worked as a porter at the travel concourse, it spread across all of the species in less than a week.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” the Grenouthian ambassador said. “Does anybody remember the rumor that the Stryx were pulling twenty-cred coins from circulation, and if you didn’t bring them all to an official money changer by the end of the day, they’d be valueless?”
“And you believed it?” Kelly asked incredulously.
“Better safe than sorry,” Crute told her. “If I recall, it turned out that the rumor was started by a money changer who was short on twenty-cred coins.”
“How about the one just a few cycles ago where the Verlocks were developing an inter-galactic wormhole and the Stryx asked them to put it on hold?” Ortha added with a chuckle. “A broker tried to sell me distressed bonds in the supposed project, saying that the hold-up was just temporary.”
“That wasn’t a rumor,” Srythlan informed them, lowering his bulk into a carbon-fiber chair. “The Stryx hinted that we should check the math again. The last I heard, the developers were bringing in a team of Cayl consultants.”
“Vergallian vegan burgers,” Joe announced, arriving with a large platter. “Get them while they’re hot.”
“Just like home,” Aainda declared, though Kelly noticed that she didn’t make any move to take one of the burgers, which were famous for being high in fiber and low in taste. “Would it be considered prying to ask if your son succeeded in his wooing?”
“That’s what Donna tells me,” Kelly said, squinting across at the table where the young people were sitting. “I’m always the last to hear about anything. She’s definitely wearing my mother’s engagement ring.”
“How many for you, Kel?” Joe asked, holding the platter with one hand and the tongs in the other.
“You know, maybe you should serve the youngsters first. There’s some cold quiche in the fridge that I’ve been meaning to finish off.”
“Quiche sounds lovely,” the Drazen ambassador said. “Don’t forget the hot sauce.”
When Kelly got to the top of the ice harvester ramp, she spotted Donna sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, busily rubbing Beowulf’s belly.
“He ambushed me,” the embassy manager explained. “If I had to live my life over again, the one thing I would change is I would have adopted a dog.”
“You would have needed a bigger apartment.”
“That’s what the park decks are for. You know, it’s just sinking in that my granddaughter is engaged to your son. I feel old.”
“That’s only because you and Blythe both married in your teens and had children right away. I was forty-two when I had Samuel,” Kelly said.
“Just imagine if the girls hadn’t given you that gift subscription to Eema’s dating service all those years ago. It feels like we’re closing the circle.”
“You know, the more I see Libby operate, the more I’m convinced that she would have stuck me and Joe together one way or another. Jeeves,” Kelly addressed the young Stryx who had just emerged from her son’s bedroom with a sword. “Have you been in there all this time?”
“I had a minor calibration to do on Samuel’s toy robot to keep the multiverse in balance. And congratulations on a successful convention.”
“You used to be a troubleshooter for Libby’s dating service,” Donna said. “Would she have found a way to put Kelly and Joe together if my girls hadn’t bought that subscription?”
“Where do you think a ten-year-old and a twelve-year-old heard about Eema’s to start with?” Jeeves replied. “If it hadn’t panned out, I was ready with a backup plan to—sorry, I can’t say.”
“Can’t say what?” Kelly demanded.
“I’ve been reminded that my confidentiality agreement with Eema’s is still in effect, but if you’d like to place a little wager on who Margie will be marrying—”
“That’s enough, Jeeves,” Libby interrupted. “Ambassador, your colleagues are asking for you. They’ve arranged a little surprise.”
Kelly headed back outside and did a double-take when she saw all of the alien ambassadors standing like a chorus, the shorter diplomats in the front. Czeros stood a little to the side, holding a spoon as if it was a conductor’s baton, and as soon as Kelly appeared, he let out a creaking hum. The seven ambassadors began to sing to the tune of the ‘Let’s Make Friends’ theme song:
You ran Kasil’s auction, and gave up the money,
You’ll never be rich, but you’ll always have friends.
When Baa overdid it, you slept on a bunny,
And sold all our junk, so we’ll always be friends.
“I take it they didn’t ask for your help with the lyrics,” Jeeves commented to his parent.
“No, but I think it’s an impressive collaborative effort given the two minutes they invested in composition. Kelly never realized what an impression she made on the other species by running that auction for the High Priest and giving up the trillions of creds to resettle the Kasilians. And now that I’ve stopped watching you every minute, are you going to tell me how you manipulated that restaurant manager into coining a phrase about Gryph selling Union Station?” Libby asked.
“That was easy. I used the holographic advertising system to pose as a customer with a complaint about the takeout, and I shouted at the manager, ‘I’ll order from here again when Gryph sells Union Station.’ Then I sent a hologram of a union organizer into the kitchen to tell the dishwasher he was underpaid. The trick with Humans is that their minds are last-in, first-out queues. It all comes down to putting them together immediately after planting a suggestion.”
“There’s still a troubleshooting job waiting for you in my dating service if you have free time,” the station librarian told her offspring.
“I’ll see how my finances are doing at the end of the cycle,” Jeeves replied. “I couldn’t afford another employee like Dorothy.”
From the Author
The next EarthCent book will be a spin-off which takes place on the circuit ship Flower. I started it almost two years ago and kept moving up the time frame so it would fit after the most recent Union Station release. Readers who sign up for my notification list at IFITBREAKS.COM will get the announcement.
I hope to revisit Union Station soon (despite the current Last Night title) because I’m addicted to the characters, but it’s difficult to find new readers for an aging series. Your reviews on early books in the series may help with visibility on Amazon. And if you haven’t tried my feel-good AI Diaries series which starts on present-day Earth, the first book is Turing Test.
About the Author
E. M. F
oner lives in Northampton, MA with an imaginary German Shepherd who’s been trained to bite bankers. The author welcomes reader comments at [email protected], or you can find me on Facebook.
