Chapter Eight: The Liberal Hideout

Twenty-two had Zero analyze the mustard in the cloth, which it proclaimed “compatible with your illustrious system.” She wondered if she should turn the flattery mode down some more, but decided not to bother. Twenty-two sampled the mustard, and found the taste wonderful. Besides studying their politics, perhaps she’d survey their foods as well.

She examined the gift she’d been given by Dubois, and concluded it was a device for drawing black artwork, perhaps on a human face or in religious rituals.

She felt a bit guilty about the ambassador deception, but what was she supposed to have said? “Hi, I am a college student on break who is visiting your planet illegally. Take me to your leader.” To get the respect and access she wanted, she had to be an ambassador.

But what was the point? She had just made an enemy of the planet’s leader. What access could she get now? She checked Zero’s shields, just to be safe; there was no telling what these humans might do next.

She didn’t even know what form of government Earth had. “Zero, have you been monitoring broadcasts?”

“Yes, Perceptive Leader.”

“Can you briefly describe what worldwide government system they use?”

“Earth is a standard Constitutional Republic with three branches. The head of the executive branch is the president, elected every five years with a proportional electoral system. The legislative branch, also known as the World Congress, has two houses. Each country with a population over one million has two representatives in one house, the World Senate, and a number of representatives proportionate to their population in the other house, the World House of Representatives. Members of Congress are elected to five-year terms. The judicial branch has eleven members, each nominated by the president and confirmed by the legislative branch. They have lifetime terms. It is a multi-party system dominated by the Conservative and Liberal parties, also known as the Roosters and Donkeys. You have not used the restroom in some time; would you like assistance?”

Two major parties? Twenty-two wondered how that could work. If there were ten issues, then there would be over a thousand permutations, and so a thousand parties needed. It meant party members were forced to adjust their beliefs to their party’s beliefs. Over time, wouldn’t their loyalties move toward their party instead of their country or world? What a silly system!

But if there were two parties, then that meant President Dubois wasn’t the only option.

“Zero, which party is President Dubois?”

“The Conservative Party, Wise One.”

“Your flattery is irritating, even at fifty percent. If I ordered you to turn it off, how would you address me?”

“I would address you in many ways, such as Formerly Wise One, Formerly Great Leader, Formerly—”

“Stop. Where is the headquarters for the Liberal Party?”

“It is located in Washington D.C.”

“Take me there.”

A few minutes later they landed next to a huge blue building, overlooking what Zero said was the Potomac River, just west of Georgetown University. The building rose twenty stories into the air, tapering off above to a point. Circular windows, also tinted blue, circled the building. A huge Hancola logo adorned its side: a blue capital ‘H’ against a white background, tilted sideways, with an animated image of the sweet soft drink pouring out of the top of the letter.

Within minutes, the ship was again surrounded by humans. She wondered how word got out so quickly, and realized they must have some sort of person-to-person communication devices. She hadn’t seen anything like that; perhaps they were internal, connected directly to the brain? She found that repulsive.

The view from her ship had been blocked by buildings. Now she could see a good distance in most directions. It was a world of cement, steel and plastic. Her sensors verified that the few trees and other plants in sight were artificial.

A dark-skinned human knocked gently on the side of the ship. If this were going to be a regular occurrence, she might have to put in a doorbell.

“Zero, lower the door.” A minute later Twenty-two shuffled out the door and into the throng of people surrounding the ship. The air seemed fresher than the stale air of New York City.

The dark-skinned one approached and extended one of his huge hands at her. She wasn’t sure what it meant—was this another attack? She took a step back.

The human pulled his hand back. “Ambassador, I am pleased to meet you. I am Carl Ajala, governor of Nigeria and candidate for president of Earth. I saw your earlier meeting with Dubois. On behalf of all humans, I would like to apologize for what happened.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Twenty-two waited. Finally she said, “You said you wanted to apologize?” It was strange, this saying what one wanted to do rather than just doing it.

Ajala stared at Twenty-two for a moment, then smiled, a facial gesture that she had learned meant happiness. What was Ajala happy about? She tried not to look at the red lips, exposed in public. She put one of her hands to her face where she still wore her red velvo. Different worlds, different customs.

“On behalf of all humans, I apologize for what happened,” Ajala said. “I would also like to shake your hand. It is a human custom. Let me show you.” He reached his hand out again, and this time she understood. She put two of her hands inside the human’s huge hand, and they shook up and down. Another strange custom. On Grodan, one greeted another by nodding eyestalks at each other.

“You are in a political campaign against Dubois?” Twenty-two asked. She studied the dark man with one eyestalk while the other looked over the crowd.

“Yes,” Ajala said. “You are here to study our political system? You may find it somewhat…unpleasant.”

“I would like to learn about your political system. May I be an observer in your political campaign?”

Flashing lights and a siren from overhead interrupted Ajala’s reply. A small ship drifted to the side and landed.

“Dubois sent his boys,” Ajala said.

They allow human children to fly ships, and use them as emissaries? If necessary, she would meet with Dubois’s boys. Perhaps they had come to apologize on behalf of their father for the earlier events.

The three humans that came out of the ship were not human children. Two of them pointed handguns at Twenty-two. Here we go again, she thought.

The third one was the largest human she had seen in terms of mass. He—she had given up trying to tell male from female, so would just assume male, like most of the humans she had met, until she learned otherwise, since there didn’t seem to be a neutral pronoun in the local language—was built almost like a huge, biped grod, with a midsection much larger than the other humans. He wore what seemed a uniform covered with jangling bits of metal. The large human approached and towered over her. She was pretty sure her yellow vest would protect her even if this huge ball of flesh fell on her, but wasn’t so certain.

“I’m General Waylon Duffy,” the large ball of flesh said. “On behalf of Earth’s defense forces, you are under arrest for threats against human citizens.”

The creature probably did not want to shake hands, she decided. She wasn’t sure what it meant to be arrested, but knew it involved being confined in a prison. “I am sorry, but I do not wish to be arrested.”

“What are you trying to pull, Waylon?” Ajala asked.

“Stay out of this, Carl,” Duffy said. “Go back to your liberal hideout, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.”

“That’ll go over well when the press reports it,” Ajala said, now face to face with Duffy.

“I think I will join you inside your…liberal hideout,” Twenty-two said to Ajala, and began to shuffle toward Liberal Headquarters.

“Stop, or we will shoot,” Duffy said.

“Then you’ll have to shoot me too,” Ajala said. “I’m going back to my liberal hideout.”

Twenty-two continued toward the building, side by side with Ajala. One eyestalk pointed backward to study the huge general. Was he insane? They’d already gone through this once before. However, the human Ajala might not be so protected.

“I warned you! One more step and—”

Twenty-two reached the steps by the entrance to the building at the same time as Ajala. She climbed them somewhat clumsily since they were a bit too high for her.

“Fire!” Duffy cried. Their handguns fired bullets like the ones she had faced earlier, the explosive sounds hurting her internal ears. Ajala dropped to the ground, covering his head with his hands, but he was not the target and was not hit. The air was full of screams from the crowd, who were split between those running away and those that dropped to the ground.

“Would you stop doing that?” Twenty-two said. “It is repetitive and irritating. At least attack me with something different. How about a water cannon? I am a bit thirsty.”

That’s when she noticed Duffy was holding a new weapon. It fired a long line of what looked like thread. When it hit Twenty-two, she felt a small shock. It was some sort of electrical device. Her shielding adjusted, jettisoning the thread, and she felt no more shocks. But it meant that Duffy was experimenting. What would they try next?

Ajala rose to his feet and quickly walked to the building. Twenty-two followed. Ajala slammed the door closed.

Twenty-two wondered if anyone had noticed the three humans in the crowd who had taped it all with small finger-held devices.