by Alex Deva
“I see those lasers are really waking up the philosopher in you,“ commented Lawry. “Anyway. Like I said, it may come in handy. Oh — and sorry, Mark — Zi, you can also flex. It’ll get automatically translated.“
“He can do what?“ asked the Brit.
“Flex-sign,“ said Zi. Showing his bare forearm, he indicated a little spot just past the elbow. “Got a tiny chip right here on the rum nerves.“
“On the what nerves?“
“Radial, ulnar, median. Come on man, don’t let me down here. I thought you were some kind of a genius.“
“Ostensibly not,“ said Mark sourly. “Why do you have a chip on your forearm nerves?“
“So I can flex-sign. It’s a common comms method in the army. We flex the fingers in various combinations to make up letters, numbers and the like. Kinda like the old Morse or binary code but with combinations of five elements instead of just two.“ He raised his hand and his fingers trembled gently in a quick pattern, like a skilled pianist’s might, only in much smaller motions.
“He who can flex-sign has four eyes,“ read Lawry from her tab. “Boy, aren’t you a fountain of Albanian wisdom today.“
“When was this invented?“ asked Mark. “I think it’s pretty cool. We could’ve probably done with something like this in the SAS and I think we had the tech, too.“
“Couldn’t say,“ answered Zi. “Jess here can check. Really long time ago, anyway. Kids learn it in school, except they don’t get these cool chips under their skin that can talk to each other. But they can talk holding hands and stuff.“
“So you can also receive?“
“Sure. The chip sends tiny electrical bursts back into the rum nerves. You feel little twitches in your fingers, you just gotta read them, so to speak.“
“What happens if you get a message just when your finger is on a trigger?“
Zi looked at him as if the question was stupid.
“Friend, if flexing makes you misfire, you got no place in the special forces.“
Mark nodded appreciatively.
“Maybe you can teach me how to flex.“
Zi smiled a huge, brilliant smile. “And go down in history as the first man who taught Mark Greene something he didn’t know.“
Mark nearly blushed. “I don’t understand why people think I’m superhuman. I’m really not.“
“Might have something to do with kicking some SEALS ass,“ said the soldier.
Jessica Lawry looked elsewhere.
“I had an incredible amount of help with that,“ said Mark sincerely. “And luck.“
“Help from people who thought you were worth it.“
“But what…“
“Can we please postpone this,“ said Lawry. “We have no idea how long they’ll wait for us, whoever they are. I would really hate to lose planet Earth because of you two grunts kissing each other’s ass.“ And there was just a little less irony in her tone than her words suggested.
“Of course,“ mumbled Zi. “Sorry.“
“Okay. Quick mission recap.“
“We beg for help for all mankind,“ the Albanian summarised their mission objective.
“We got a bunch of diplomats on rotation, waiting to negotiate terms of trade,“ she said. “In principle, Mark does the talking. We try to supply the negotiating in as close to real time as we can manage. Zi supports Mark. If necessary, you work shifts. We don’t know how long it’ll take. We don’t really know anything.“
“We know one thing though,“ intervened Lem. “We’ve never had a TS interface online for more than about thirty hours at a time. We’re confident we can keep up the actual interface practically forever, given enough power and resources, but research seems to indicate that after a while it starts getting harder for human brains to transition back to reality. Not to mention that those low-power lasers are, after all, lasers — and you’ll be eating and breathing through tubes.“
“How long?“ asked Mark.
“I can guarantee about five days, which is a lot longer than we’ve ever done this before, but anything longer than that is uncharted territory.“
“I, for one, don’t wanna lie in a bath tub for a week with a laser up my ass,“ said Zi. “Let’s get this over with.“
“What do you need us to do?“ asked Mark.
“I have no idea,“ answered Lem. “We have a direct feed to your, erm… starship, right here on this console,“ he said pointing at a separate unattended desk. “I’m going to patch the transceiver through it, and what happens next is going to make the subject of many research papers for centuries to come.“
Can’t be worse than being abducted by an alien starship, thought Mark.
“Just one last thing,“ he said. “I’d like to have a quick word with my crew.“
Lawry looked up sharply, a quick shade of worry crossing her face. She watched Mark, or rather his computer generated face. The reproduction was incredibly accurate, but it still felt as if the Brit’s face was stonier than usual.
“Okay,“ she said, evenly. “I think dr. Lem can arrange that.“
“Yes, he can,“ Lem said. “Give me a second,“ he added, walking to a nearby console. He put down his tab and started whispering to a technician, pointing to various things of the screen. The woman got to work immediately.
“You won’t see them in 3D, because we don’t have a scanner up there, unfort… I mean, I can patch the tab’s video feed inside your VR.“
The technician gave a thumbs-up and a vertical rectangle popped up in front of Mark. On it, Doina was absently looking elsewhere. Mark was about to draw her attention when a second rectangle popped up next to her, showing Aram inside Effo.
“Whoa,“ said Lem. “We’re not doing that. I don’t…“
“It’s all right, dr. Lem,“ smiled Doina, finally looking forward. “Doi did that. I just thought Aram should be present, that’s all.“
Lem looked nervously around him. The technicians shrugged in the universal “it wasn’t me, boss“ gesture.
“How’s Earth, Mark?“ asked Aram.
“I still don’t know, to be honest. I’m actually lying in that thing behind me. How’s space?“
“Black and empty,“ came the answer. “Are we inside your dream or what?“
Mark thought that was a pretty accurate interpretation of the truth, but didn’t say so. “This is my new friend, Zi,“ he said instead. “Can you see him too?“
“Yes,“ said Doina. “Hello, mister Zi.“
“Just Zi, miss,“ said the soldier, friendly. “It’s awesome to meet you too.“
“Where are you from?“ asked Aram.
“Albania.“
Doina and Aram looked uncertain.
“Excuse me. That’s Arberia to you, miss Doina. And Aram, if you’ve ever heard of the Bryge tribe?“
“You mean those Phrygians? Were your forefathers Thracians too?“
“Absolutely! I’m so glad you’ve heard about us.“
“Heard about?! I knew a Phrygian slave back at the Roman barracks.“
Zi became as excited as a child on Christmas morning.
“Really! No way! What was he like? What was his name?“
“Her name. She was a girl.“ Aram smirked and looked downwards pretending to be coy. “Maybe I’m your granddad or something.“
Zi laughed heartily.
“Will you travel with Mark?“ asked Doina.
“Yes, I will. Adventure of a lifetime, eh?“
Doina smiled a little, then turned serious again.
“Listen Zi, I know that Mark can take care of himself. But I would personally owe you if you watched his back.“
“And you would personally owe me if you didn’t,“ added Aram.
“Wow,“ said the soldier. “I don’t know which one of you just scared me most.“ And then, more solemnly: “I may not have been to another planet yet, but I’ve done a lot of other things in my life. I promise I’ll watch Mark’s back, as I’m sure he will watch mine.“
“Take care of yourselves, Doina, Aram,“ he said. “I’ll see you soon.“
“Noroc!“ said Doina. “Good luck!“
With a final wave, the two disappeared. Mark drew a deep breath.
“You guys ready?“ asked Jessica Lawry.
“Thank you. Yes, I’m ready when you are,“ Mark said.
“Me too,“ added Zi.
Lem glanced one last time around the room, as the technicians gave him a final thumbs-up. Then, he touched his tab.
It really wasn’t worse than being abducted by an alien starship.
* * *
“Welcome to this Virtual Emb… oh crap, you came up facing the wrong way. I hate it when this happ…“
A tall, spindly creature with a complement of arms and legs that was difficult to determine suddenly popped up in front of them. It was about two metres tall and seemed to have a head, on which some formations were not entirely dissimilar to eyes.
“Welcome to this Virtual Embassy Complex.“
Mark and Zi stepped back reflexively and looked around.
They found themselves in a tall room, with five bright green walls and a ceiling of the same colour. There had been no transition, or at least none that they could experience. The Geneva laboratory, or its simulation, had simply been replaced in a blink of an eye. They were wearing the same clothes as before: Zi his fatigues, and Mark the civilian clothes that Jessica Lawry had bought for him.
The room was empty apart from the creature and a hovering platform whose surface seemed to be bubbling, or perhaps boiling. The object was almost the same bright shade of green as the walls, and it occupied the centre of the strange room.
The two men took note quickly of their surroundings, and then glanced at each other, before returning their attention to their company. It looked entirely unidentifiable to either of them, and yet it had welcomed them in unaccented, if really fast English.
“Which one of you is Mark?“ the words burst out at the same high speed, coming from some place on what might have been its head.
— Don’t tell it, came a quick warning from Zi. His lips hadn’t moved, but Mark heard him clearly.
Why not? he asked.
Since Zi had no answer to that, Mark raised his right hand with his palm open, acutely aware that he was experiencing first contact with an alien species, and hoping that his salute would be accepted as such.
“I’m Mark,“ he said, as if answering a nurse’s call in a waiting room.
“Then you must be Erbardh,“ said the creature with no pause at all, turning towards Zi quickly as a startled gerbil. Zi also raised his right hand with his palm open, and said:
“Përshëndetje!“
— Zi, for fuck’s sake, sent Mark.
— Well I’m the first Albanian meeting an alien. If I ever go into the history books, let it be in my language. Anyway, all I said was hello.
“Excuse me?“ asked the creature.
“I am indeed Erbardh,“ backtracked the soldier quickly. “Hello.“
“Would you like to name me?“ offered the alien in another fast burst of words.
Mark looked at Zi, and Zi looked at Mark. Then they looked at the alien together.
“Would it not be proper to address you by your actual na…?“ tried Mark.
“I don’t see how,“ it cut him short. “It would be like describing the colour blue to a blind man.“
“That’s a… a very human thing to say,“ said the Brit. Then, to Zi: “What should we name our host, lieutenant?“
“Rrapi,“ said the other without hesitation.
— What the hell is a rrapi? asked Mark privately.
— Common Albanian last name. He looks like a Rrapi to me, came the answer.
Mark made a mental note to someday visit Albania, search for every Albanian named Rrapi, and see how many legs they all had.
“You can call me Rrapi,“ said the newly baptised alien, apparently finding no faults with the name.
Moving insanely quickly, it went around them and towards the floating table, and then sank one of its appendages into its bubbling surface. That made the five walls become transparent.
A huge, egg-shaped hall lay directly underneath their room, which now appeared to be positioned as a sort of control room, overlooking the main space. The two astounded men registered motion, but their brains couldn’t immediately catalog the swarming things. It took them a few seconds to understand what they were looking at. Creatures of all possible descriptions were moving every which way, some walking, some crawling, some floating. Some were barely twitching, others were so fast it was impossible to follow them. They had all possible colours and more. Some were as big as locomotives, others as small as cats and many were comparable to humans in size, if not in features.
There did not appear to be an up and down, although the two men experienced what felt like normal gravitational acceleration. The creatures in the huge hall were criss-crossing on every surface, including what might have been, from their perspective, walls and ceiling.
These were penetrated by openings of various shapes and sizes, taking the aliens in every directions. And every individual seemed to be intent on going somewhere.
It was like an ant metropolis — if ants came in a thousand shapes.
— I’ll be damned, sent Zi privately.
“This is the main hall of the Virtual Embassy Complex, and you are not physically here, in case you need to be reminded,“ rattled Rrapi. “You are each connected to one of our telesentience transceivers, and are experiencing the station in a way suitable to your senses. Everyone here, including me, is present via telesentience and everyone experiences it according to their own sensory standards and limitations. The visitors you see below are just like you, here on diplomatic business, mostly here to meet the ambassadors. There are currently nearly a half-million ambassadors in this complex. You may interact with them within the limits of your interaction quota as soon as you are ready. I assume you have some questions. You will get answers at my discretion, and of course limited by my own knowledge. I am the Chief Dispatch Officer on duty. I can answer general questions about the station, but I regret that cannot help you in any diplomatic matters.“
It said all that in less than five seconds. Mark had a truly hard time understanding everything, and was forced to ask:
“Could you please speak a little slo…“
“I already speak as slowly as I can. In fact I had to drug myself to slow down to your standards.“
Mark didn’t know how to react to that. If that qualified as “slow“, what would’ve been normal speech rate for Rrapi? The alien continued:
“Different species live at different speeds. On a scale on which my own species lives at one unit of time per second, humans live at a lifespeed coefficient of point null one three.“
Zi was beginning to catch up.
“So you’re over a hundred times faster th…“
“Than you are, yes. Hence the necessity for me to slow myself down by quite a lot. I am not partial to this particular medication, but I prefer it to the one that speeds me up, which I must administer myself when I greet representatives of species that live faster than us.“
“So that’s why you answered our call s…?“ asked Mark.
“So relatively fast, partially, yes. It would seem fast to you, but I assure you we did it at a normal pace. Furthermore, your documentation was better than what we often get from other species, which I shall not name, and for that you have my appreciation, which at the moment takes the form of copious amounts of extra patience.“
“Other sp…?“
“Other species, of course. You did not really think you were the only ones who invented telesentience, did you? All civilisations that survive long enough eventually develop it. How else could we possibly come in contact with each other? It is obviously the only practical way to make contact, unless you
are really patient like the Eight, the Dwaals or the Builders.“
Hearing the names of the Eight — the aliens who had attacked Earth in what they called a simple gesture to draw their attention — and the Builders — who were sending out starships like Doi waiting for other worlds to come to them — Mark and Zi glanced at each other nervously.
— Are you getting this? whispered Mark mentally.
— Who? Me? said Zi.
— We all are, he heard Jessica Lawry’s voice in his head. Those of us who haven’t fainted. Listen, ask about that interaction quota.
“You’re very slow,“ commented Rrapi. “I mean, you are slow,“ it accented, with what might have been interpreted as a distinct lack of patience. “No offence,“ it then added.
“Excuse us, Rrapi. Put it down to first contact shock. Not quite what we expected, although… we didn’t really know what to expect. I’m sure you’re used to it. Could you please explain the concept of intera…?“
“Of course, and it is in fact my duty as Dispatch Officer to make sure you understand the interaction quota. As I began to tell you a long while ago, as soon as civilisations like you discover and implement long-distance telesentience, and you broadcast your calls, we answer at Embassy Complexes like this one. We decipher the documentation and program our own transceivers to work with yours — the underlying principles are usually the same for everybody, so there is a lot we can reuse or guess, which makes things faster and easier. The visiting species make either requests for assistance or offers to trade, or else they’re simply curious. Delegates, such as yourselves, are allowed interaction on a limited basis with the ambassadors who are permanently based here. The quota is expressed as a multiple of a time unit that is specific to the species in question. As a courtesy to newcomers, we grant every species an initial free quota, which can only be used during their first visit. Once that time is spent, more can be purchased, assuming obviously that you can offer something that we need in return. We have prepared a list of possible trade items for you. We have been waiting for your arrival for quite some time now. It has been almost two human days.“
“Wow. That’s about as long as half a year…“
