Ran, p.4
RAN, page 4
Katengi gave his assent. Kenred laid the hyper-disk on the president’s desk.
“This device,” Kenred said, “will open a portal, a door between Andromeda and here. Braxton Thorpe, the expedition commander, will step through the portal to join us.”
Katengi’s face scales rippled yellow, registering his astonishment. “In any real sense, we are at their mercy. Are you certain of their intentions? What if this whole thing is a ruse to get to me? Am I about to be assassinated by an alien we worked so hard to keep out of our solar system?” He pressed a button on his desk, and a guard ushered in SPC Director Sudaro Ferron. He acknowledged the astronauts and warmly gripped both hands with the president.
“That,” Katengi said, pointing to the hyper-disk, “will somehow open a door between here and the alien ship Andromeda. Commander Thorpe is supposed to join us by walking through the door this disk creates. Are you comfortable with this, Sudaro?” All Katengi’s visible scales rippled between multiple colors and seemed to lose their luster.
“Not entirely,” Ferron said. “The astronauts briefed me on their return. They seem to have accepted the offworlders’ genuineness, but I’m not so sure.” He turned to the astronauts. “You are our best. You met this Thorpe. Will his arrival in this room pose a threat?”
“I don’t think so,” Kenred said. “If they wanted to harm us, they could do it from space.”
“No, it won’t,” Jocara added emphatically.
Turning to Kenred, Katengi said with a sigh, “I’m reluctant to do this, but activate the portal.”
Kenred picked up the hyper-disk and rubbed its dull side. An ordinary door appeared in front of Katengi’s desk, and Thorpe stepped through into the presidential office. He nodded at the astronauts and turned to Katengi.
“President Katengi, I presume.” He turned toward the SPC Director. “Sudaro Ferron.” He spoke an accent-free Amred, quite an improvement from when Kenred had first met him. “I am Braxton Thorpe, Commander of Phoenix Starship Andromeda. I am present in this room through a portal—technology new to you. We come in peace with outstretched hands in friendship.”
“Amred welcomes you to our planet and to Amred’s capital, Amred City,” Katengi responded. He walked toward Thorpe, hands held out. “In our culture, we greet a friend by grasping both hands and squeezing, thus.” He took both Thorpe’s hands in his.
“I am honored by your show of friendship,” Thorpe said with a broad smile.
“That’s the Human equivalent of our smile,” Kenred said softly.
Katengi had an assistant place two wide cushions on the couch, subtly acknowledging Thorpe’s anatomical differences, and gestured for him to sit. The astronauts joined him. Katengi and Ferron sat opposite on the other side of the table.
“I know you have gone to great lengths to keep your existence a secret from the rest of the galaxy,” Thorpe said. “You were quite successful. Neither Humans nor Asterians knew you existed until we accidentally stumbled upon you when we made your system the first stop in our outward journey. Now that we’ve found you, we are loath to continue our journey without first establishing some links between your civilization and ours.”
“There must be vast differences between our technologies, our capabilities, even our cultures,” Katengi said. “Kenred and Jocara have described your vessel to me. I cannot honestly conceive of such an enormous structure.” He shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Our historical reason for concealing our presence was our fear that an advanced species like yours would find and exploit, or even destroy, us. We knew about Humans and Asterians from your unintentional broadcasts and even deduced some details about the conflict between your species. That caused us to be even more diligent in keeping our presence a secret.
“I admit you do not seem to pose a military threat against us, but how do we know that? I am deeply concerned about the impact the mere knowledge of your presence will have on our people.”
Ferron raised both hands with fingers splayed at chest level; his scales rippled between multiple colors. “What do you people really want? To my ears, you sound like a used car saleslizard. You offer us a one-sided proposition. There’s plenty we can learn from you, but what do you get out of it? Can you answer that honestly?”
“I understand your concerns, President Katengi, Director Ferron,” Thorpe said. “We will impose nothing on you or your culture that you do not invite—you have my word. You are correct, of course, Director Ferron. You do have much to learn from us. What is not apparent to you is that we have much to learn from you. You have independently solved problems we faced in the past and may face in the future. Learning from you, working together with you, we both have a better chance of successfully solving future problems as they arise—and they will.”
Kenred glanced at Jocara. They had been through a lot together and knew each other well. She nudged him slightly. Hesitatingly, Kenred spoke up. “I am not a statecraft-trained lizard. I’m just a boondocks lizard with an engineering degree who was lucky enough to be selected astronaut. Jocara and I have visited their starship. We’ve seen some of their science and technology.” He came to his feet. “Speaking for myself, I don’t want to return to what now seems like primitive capsule technology. I don’t want to wait for my great grandchildren to develop portals. I’ve seen them and used them, and I want them now. I don’t want to plod around Lodan, eventually construct a settlement on its surface, and maybe, someday, walk on another planet in our system. I want to explore the universe with my new friends.” He resumed his seat.
Katengi spoke up. “Arcan has three significant cultures, ourselves, Ceffid, and The Geroptic Nation. Amred is a free-wheeling society with a limited government that is restricted to national defense and a police and court system. The SPC is a private effort with close ties to the government. Ceffid is a totalitarian dictatorship with top-heavy bureaucracy—they are unlikely to welcome your presence. The Geroptic Nation is a backward theocracy that worships the sun, which they call the Great Dragon in the Sky. Their Prophet’s ultimate goal is to bring Amred and Ceffid under his rule and convert all of us to their bizarre religion.”
“Andromeda is a privately owned starship,” Thorpe said. “It has close ties to the Oort Federation around Sol—your Rodal, and it has loose links with several outfits on Rogan, one of two populated planets orbiting Aster—your Dytom. We maintain portals to our home worlds. I can literally step back through this portal,” he pointed to the door, “and step through another into the office of my friend John Butler, Chairman of the Oort Federation.”
“It’s difficult to imagine such capability,” Katengi said, his voice filled with wonder—and fear, his scales rippling faint red. “I want to believe your message of peace and cooperation, but it goes completely against saurian nature—and human nature, I would guess. Before you became the Oort Federation, I am certain that Humans on Earth took advantage of other Humans with lesser capabilities. You waged war against each other, just as we did. And yet, the differences between you and us are astronomically greater than anything either of us has experienced in our own past. How can I trust your promise not to interfere, to honor our wishes?”
“I completely agree with President Katengi,” Ferron said. “I just don’t trust you.”
“We are very much like you,” Thorpe responded, “just with different toys. While we will respect your desire to remain isolated, realistically, the cat is out of the bag. Ten thousand people live aboard Andromeda. By now, several have told folks back home about Arcan and these two.” Thorpe gestured toward Kenred and Jocara. “Eventually, you will have more visitors. Most will be like us, open and friendly, wanting to learn about you, meet with your people, establish trade, exchange knowledge, all the things that make a civilization function. But, like you, we have bad guys in both our systems. One of them will eventually find the way here. You will need to be prepared.” Thorpe sat back quietly to let his words sink in.
Ferron leaned forward, his scales rippling faintly red in a repeating pattern.
“I mentioned John Butler,” Thorpe continued. “My friend John is the wisest man I know. He would be happy to join you, offering you guidance and counsel as you move through these uncharted waters.” Thorpe turned to the astronauts. “Kenred, Jocara, you are welcome to join us on Andromeda. We have more than sufficient room. You can be the nucleus of what I suspect will become a significant Arcan contingent. We will remain in the Ran system—what we call your sun, for the time being, hidden until you, Mr. President, decide the time is ripe to reveal our presence to all.”
“Do I have a choice?” Katengi asked. “Do any of us? Like you said, the cat is out of the bag.” He sighed deeply and sat, dejection clearly visible to lizard and offworlder alike, while pink rippled through his scales. “All our preparations, all our hopes, all our dreams…”
Ferron looked sharply at Thorpe, his scales still rippling. “You will remain hidden, no contact except through the president or me until the president says otherwise?”
“You have my word,” Thorpe said solemnly. He handed Katengi a Link. “This is a communicator that you can use to contact me anytime. It is the same unit we used to keep in contact and to access our massive database. Only it is restricted to comms with me directly.”
Amred President Binecot Katengi’s Office—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
President Binecot Katengi looked up from his desk to lock eyes with Space Push Consortium Director Sudaro Ferron.
“You don’t much care for the offworlder, Thorpe, do you?”
“It’s not so much that as that I don’t trust him,” Ferron answered. “What do we have that he could possibly want? I mean, they’re so far advanced over us, we are just swamp lizards by comparison.”
“I take your point, Sudaro, but I simply don’t agree with you. I’m convinced that they arrived here by accident.” He paused. “That’s not what I really mean. They came here on purpose, alright, but they did not know about us—I’m convinced of that.” He stood and started pacing across his office, tail sliding across the plush carpet. “They stumbled across Astronauts Zlaxiz and Porovik and decided to make contact.”
“Okay,” Ferron said, his scales rippling an angry orange. “So what?”
“Put yourself in their shoes, my friend. How would you have reacted? You stumble across an unknown sentient race virtually next door that has developed space travel, at least in its initial stages? What would you have done?”
“You’ve got a point, Mr. President,” Ferron said grudgingly, “but who’s to say Thorpe is telling the truth?” Ferron sighed as his scales faded to pale yellow. “I just don’t trust them.”
“In the meantime,” Katengi said, “we need to keep close tabs on the offworlders. Kenred Zlaxiz trusts them, and they seem to trust him. What do you think about using him as liaison with the offworlders?”
“Astronaut Zlaxiz is one of the best we have. If anyone can handle this touchy situation, he can.” Ferron’s scales rippled blue. “I agree with your choice. In fact, I’m proud of Kenred.”
“And,” Katengi continued, “we have this.” He held up the Link.
“Assume you are being monitored one hundred percent of the time,” Ferron said.
“I know, you don’t trust him. We’ll just have to watch our conversation around this device.”
Several hours later, Ferron sat with Katengi in the president’s office. “You know we can’t keep the offworlder secret to ourselves,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Hesitatingly, Katengi nodded agreement, his scales rippling slightly, showing pale yellow.
“The longer we wait to inform Leader Bopr Arclando,” Katengi said, “the more trouble he will give us. You know how he rattles his saber every chance he gets.”
“Do we have any reason to delay?” Ferron asked.
“You’re right,” Katengi said, and manipulated controls on his desk. A large monitor on the opposite wall lit brightly. A few moments later, the screen filled with the dark green snout of Ceffid Leader Bopr Arclando.
“It’s about time you called.” Arclando’s harsh voice filled the room.
Katengi lowered the volume and opened his eyes wide—a friendly Arcan smile. “Leader Arclando, it’s been a while since we talked face-to-face. We have had some developments in our space program, developments you have probably heard about already, but I wanted to inform you directly.”
Arclando responded with a harrumph.
Katengi related the events to Arclando, beginning with their discovery that the astronauts were missing. He took about eighteen minutes for the entire story, but left out his growing personal relationship with Thorpe.
When Katengi finished, Arclando hissed, “I should have been in this from the very start. You are obviously using the offworlders to your own advantage—and you have abducted Astronaut Porovik. I want her returned immediately!”
“For the record,” Katengi answered, his voice tinged with anger and his scales rippling orange, “Astronaut Porovik is her own lizard. She has freely chosen to remain with the offworlders for the time being, but I will pass your request on to her.”
Arclando hissed and terminated the connection.
Katengi looked at Ferron with frustration.
“It’s only going to get worse, I fear,” he said. “Perhaps the offworlders can help.”
He activated the Link Thorpe had given him and shortly was speaking with the offworlder. “I just completed an unpleasant conversation with Ceffid Leader Arclando. Can you join us to review our options?”
Amred President Binecot Katengi’s Office—Amred City, Amred, Planet Arcan
President Binecot Katengi and SPC Director Sudaro Ferron sat in the president’s office looking expectantly at the hyper-disk. To Katengi it seemed to take forever, but actually only two minutes passed before the portal opened and Thorpe stepped through onto the rich rug covering the floor in front of the president’s desk.
“Gentlemen,” Thorpe said in perfectly accented Amred, reaching out with both hands, first to Katengi and then Ferron.
Katengi indicated a stack of cushions on the couch opposite him, designed to accommodate Thorpe’s anatomy. The offworlder’s face contorted in what Katengi had learned was the Human equivalent of a smile. He sat quietly for several seconds, and then quipped, “It’s your dime, Mr. President.” The monetary term he used was for a small Amred coin.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Katengi said.
The offworlder let out a cackle that Katengi knew to be laughter. “When Humans occupied only one planet, they used an audio communications device called a telephone. The devices were hard-wired to a planet-wide network. At one point, the cost for a telephone call from a public device was a dime. Thus, the expression, ‘It’s your dime,’ means you contacted me, so what’s on your mind?” The offworlder cackled again.
“It’s amazing when we compare our cultures,” Katengi said, “at how much in common we have and have had. Your telephone, for instance—we have a similar device and even a similar expression.” He smiled at Thorpe, opening his eyes wide. “But culture comparison is not why I asked to meet with you.”
He then related to Thorpe their conversation with the Ceffid leader. “He claims that I’m hoarding you offworlders. He’s right, of course, but I cannot admit that. I need to find a way to satisfy Arclando without losing the advantage you have brought to Amred.” Katengi paused, looked at Ferron with an unspoken question, and then continued. “On your planet not so long ago, several equally powerful nations vied for control. If I understand your history correctly, the nation of your origin eventually prevailed—without a nuclear war.”
“Essentially, yes,” Thorpe answered, “although the rise of my company, Phoenix, had as much to do with that as anything else.”
“So, your Federation is akin to a supra-national government over everything else in your solar system?”
“In a sense, although it really serves as a forum where individuals, entities, and even nations can resolve differences, I guess it is that. The Federation does not have any really useful enforcement mechanism. We’ve been lucky thus far. We have only one really negative player, Udachny Enterprises, run by Isidor Orlov.” The offworlder emitted a very Arcan-like sigh. “Eventually, you will have to deal with him.”
“That’s for the future,” Katengi said. “Right now, we need to deal with Arclando, and that’s why I summoned you.” He stood and walked to an ornamental wall hanging. He pulled a cord, causing the hanging to roll up, revealing a Mercator projection of Arcan, centered on Amred. Katengi pointed to a continental mass across a significant ocean east of Amred. “This is Ceffid, technologically our equal, but a harsh dictatorship—ruled by Leader Bopr Arclando. We both have nuclear weapons and the means for delivery. Any time we have a serious difference, Arclando threatens nuclear destruction. Because he knows we can retaliate, his threats may be empty, but obviously, we cannot ignore them.”
Katengi returned to his seat. “This time, he insists on our returning Astronaut Jocara Porovik, something I obviously cannot do—even if I wished.” His scales rippled a succession of colors. “It’s a conundrum for us.” He splayed his fingers in front of his torso. “Jocara wants to remain with Kenred and on Andromeda. In Amred culture, that’s a choice she can make, but not in her own country.”
Katengi rose to his feet again and commenced pacing in front of the map. “The risk is real,” he muttered, his scales rippling light red. He turned to look directly at Thorpe. “Now you know why I asked you here.” He turned to his SPC director. “Do you have anything to add, Sudaro?”
Sudaro Ferron, who had been mute until now, glanced at his boss and then addressed Thorpe. “I am still overwhelmed by your transportation technology, and I’m the scientist here. It seems to me, however, that using some of your technology tricks, we might be able to place Jocara in Arclando’s presence without risking her life or freedom. Am I on the right track here?”
