Chapter Fifteen: Twenty-two Talks to the Media

“Hello, Earth people.” Twenty-two stood on the drawbridge doorway of her spaceship, near the blue Liberal Headquarters, facing a large group of cameras. Dozens of USE security people surrounded the area, all carefully out of the camera’s view. Ajala stood behind her.

She’d spent a few minutes wondering about the trees that surrounded them before remembering her sensors said they were made of complex plastics. She examined the grass on the ground and realized it too was artificial. Her sensors showed that they did photosynthesis, just like real plants.

She still wore the yellow vest; it was the only one equipped to protect her. She wondered if the humans had the capacity to color her velvo yellow to match it. Or perhaps they could make her a yellow velvo. She would ask later, but for now, she’d put aside the clashing red velvo for an equally clashing blue one that covered her mouth. If you wore one too long, it became damp from breathing and talking.

Perhaps after she’d been on the planet long enough she’d go native and take off the velvo. She glanced at the camera, and imagined what it would be like to have a few billion beings see her naked mouth. She began to rock side to side, then realized that those few billion were already watching her. She forced herself to be still.

“I am Ambassador Twenty-two,” she began. “I am a grod from the star you call Tau Ceti. I am here to observe and learn about your political process. I am told there are two major political parties in your political system. I hope to travel with and observe both of them to learn how your system operates.” Once again she wondered about the constant use of the personal pronoun “I,” but it seemed the best way to get her message across in this awkward language. Perhaps she should try to vary the way she used the language.

“Someday,” she continued, “I hope to welcome your world to the Galactic Union. You have limited local spaceflight to your moon and the planets in your solar system. When you have interstellar flight you will be eligible to join the many other races that make up this great Union.” She didn’t really think of the Union as being great—a lot of negative adjectives better described it—but the humans would learn that on their own, when the time came. If they got that far. Of course, she wasn’t really telling the truth about eligibility rules for joining the Union either; interstellar flight wasn’t the only rule.

Several of the press people waved their arms in the air. She looked up, but there wasn’t anything to see. She remembered seeing something similar in a video Zero had shown her of a classroom of human children. She aimed her eyestalks toward one large human. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?” There was laughter from the humans. She didn’t understand the joke.

The large press person lowered his arm and stepped forward. “Twice security forces have fired on you. Does that bother you?”

What a silly question. “Yes, it bothered me. I do not believe they understood the situation. I hope they will not fire on me again.”

A smaller press person with long hair stepped forward. “Will President Dubois allow you to observe his political campaign, after the way you embarrassed him?”

She had no idea. “I hope that he will allow me to observe. I will try not to embarrass him further.”

A third press person began to step forward, but the larger first one deftly stepped in front. “Earlier you met with Ajala. Did he agree to your observing his campaign?”

“He agreed to allow this.” He also lectured me on the Liberal Party’s goals, she thought. It was a difficult concept for her to understand, the way humans grouped together and adjusted their beliefs to match those of their party. She knew that there were other primitive races that did such things, but not on Grodan. She could write next semester’s paper on the subject, though she’d have to leave out the fact that she had actually been on a planet outside the Union. Perhaps someday, if Earth were a member, she’d be able to publish her notes.

“The Ambassador and I had a fruitful exchange of ideas,” Ajala said, now standing side by side with Twenty-two. “I am looking forward to learning about her race, as she is eager to learn about ours.”

The press person with the longer hair stepped forward. “Since our weapons can’t hurt you, what’s to keep you from conquering us?”

“That’s how Dubois thinks,” Ajala said. “You saw how he welcomed Twenty-two to our world?”

Twenty-two squeaked in laughter, and tried not shaking too much. Why would she want to conquer a planet? To turn in for extra credit at school? They probably thought her ship was armed and ready to devastate their planet. She did have the hand laser, and she supposed she could use the tractor beam to toss things around a bit. But no point in telling them everything.

“I have no plans to conquer anyone,” she said. “I only want to observe your political process. I will start with Ajala. Later I hope that your President Dubois will allow me to observe his activities as well.”

“How do we know you’re not a spy?” one of the press people asked. She’d lost track of which was which; they all looked nearly alike unless she focused on their differing clothing. She avoided looking too closely, due to the exposed mouths; she knew she was a bit prudish on that.

“I am not a spy.” She doubted the humans had anything that could possibly be of any interest other than academic. Like most races, humans were egocentric and couldn’t conceive just how unimportant they were in the general course of galactic affairs.

“Will you share your technology with our scientists?” asked the larger one.

“That is against Galactic Union law,” she said. “When your planet develops interstellar spaceflight, you will be eligible for membership and access to higher technology.”

Nearly all the press people had their arms raised. She decided she’d answered enough questions for now. She looked back at the rows of cameras. “Earth people, thank you in advance for your hospitality. I look forward to learning about you.”

Ajala put his arm around Twenty-two’s back. “Let’s go inside and talk.” She followed him back to his office, keeping one eyestalk pointing backwards at the press, which shouted questions—mostly about the Galactic Union—as they followed close behind until they entered Liberal Headquarters. Someday perhaps they’d learn about the Galactic Union.

* * *

“That doesn’t happen every day,” Bruce said. He seemed deep in thought, a ping-pong ball held against his chin. “Wonder if we could get her to observe our campaign.”

“That would be exciting,” Toby said, “her watching the two of us plan out world conquest. Maybe we should focus on getting the rest of the world to watch us.”

“Or get the rest of the world to watch the alien, with us standing side by side, waving and looking presidential.”

Not a bad idea, Toby thought. In fact, a great idea. “Why would she want to observe us, when we’re a party of two people?”

“Let’s remedy that,” Bruce said. “A worldwide political campaign starts with a single thought in someone’s basement.”

Toby scrunched his brow. “Is that something I once said?”

“Nope. I just made it up. And no worldwide campaign ever started in someone’s basement. Until now.”

“And what was that single thought in your basement?”

“I don’t have a basement, and I don’t remember what the first thought was,” Bruce said. “For historical purposes, I’ll come up with something clever later on. Now, let me tell you how we’re going to win.”

“And I’ll tell you why we haven’t got a chance. But you go first.”

“Sure. But never plan global conquest on an empty stomach.” Bruce ordered a spinach pizza and a pair of Hancolas. A few minutes later, Bruce’s kitchen completed the order, and they sat down to eat and strategize.