House, and time is lacking for consultation. Therefore I am appointing Lissa Windholm envoy plenipotentiary. Her part in explorations of planets in this galactic vicinity has given her as much knowledge of nonhumans as anyone on Asborg seems likely to possess. She has also demonstrated self-control and sound judgment, alike in emergencies and in ordinary difficulties. I have every confidence in her.”
Dad thinks that of me!
The screen showed Lissa in the command cabin of a courier boat. In Valen’s apartment, she observed herself observing herself as if another person were yonder, and thought, Why? Do I want to know how he sees me?
The rush to make ready and be off had told on her. Instead of tonight’s glittery flowrobe, she wore a coverall, smudged here and there. The auburn hair wasn’t netted in gold but, under low acceleration, hung sweat-lank past her ears. Still, she thought, she didn’t look hideous. A fair-sized number of men found her attractive.… Stop that! she silently snapped.
The pilot gazed into the pickup and said: “I record my understanding of my assignment just prior to medicating, getting into the flotation tank, and ordering top boost for the passage.
“I’ve never met a Susaian before, and only talked casually with people who have, but naturally I’ve been interested and studied up on them. Now I’ve brought along a database and will be accessing it en route. Transit time, about sixty hours, should let me learn something, though I’d better arrive reasonably rested and fresh. Better try to avoid preconceptions, too. However, I can’t help guessing. Since that may influence my actions, I’ll enter my thoughts at this point.
“I doubt we’ve got any subtle scheme under way. We’re as alien to the Susaians as they are to us. What buttons could they single out to push? Oh, they do have that curious sensitivity to emotional states, but on an individual basis. It doesn’t tell them how groups of us will react to something.
“I also doubt we’ve got a criminal trying for a haven. Not that we can be very sure what constitutes a crime among them. But anybody smart enough to make it here must know we won’t risk provoking an interstellar incident for nothing. We’ll need to be convinced it’s worth our while to help.
“Nevertheless, this isn’t exactly a usual way for a stranger to show up. My guess is that our visitor has come on behalf of some faction. The Susaians are no more united than us humans.”
The image smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t embroil us in a civil war of theirs. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m really only empowered to ask questions and make suggestions. Believe me, I’ll think hard before I do either.”
The screen blinked. The time displayed was two and a half standard days later. Lissa floated weightless. She had spruced herself up. “I’ve proposed to the Susaian that we rendezvous elsewhere,” she said, and projected the coordinates and orbital elements, a million kilometers from the giant planet. “It has agreed. That should enable Evana to damp out rumors and gossip on Gunvor. Please inform her. She can tell the troops this is probably some minor matter.”
Valen chuckled.
He leaned tensely forward when the other ship swelled in view. Running commentary described the matching of velocities and the extension of a gang tube. Lissa appeared, spacesuited, an automatic camera on either shoulder.
“I’m crossing over like this,” said her voice. “Not that the air or the temperature or anything would kill me, but… well, just in case. The suit is reinforced, and I’ve got a blaster in my oddments pouch.”
“That much was beamed back to my father,” she said in the city. “The rest had to wait till I had returned to my boat— No, I misspoke. All I sent then was word that I was safe and things looked interesting. The real information I wasn’t about to trust to any transmitter.”
An interior flashed before her and the man. Its cramped plainness seemed almost familiar, until one noticed the details. The Susaian poised free-fall at the center. The sinuous body, dull red, as long as a man’s, was tautly curved about the four stubby legs. The tail, half that length, coiled to complete the ring. Two hands, each with three spidery fingers, at the end of supple arms, held a standard model translator. Just “above” them swayed the neck. Behind the blunt snout of the head, which lacked earflaps, the eyes glowed quite beautiful, like twin agates. The trans rendered purring, rustling sounds into flat Anglay. “Well be you come, Earthblood. Have you immediate desires I might perchance fulfill?”
Lissa’s helmet included a sonic unit. “Can we get straight to business? I don’t want to be discourteous, but I don’t know what’s polite in your society. My database told me that if we both belonged to the Thornflower nation,”—the trans turned that human name into the appropriate buzz—“we’d spend the next hour exchanging compliments. I’m willing, but not sure how.”
Again Valen chuckled.
“I am not a member of it myself,” the Susaian said. Did the vocal tone carry wrath, or sorrow, or eagerness? “And I will gladly go by the straightest tunnel, the more so when I sense that, beneath a natural wariness, your intentions are honest.”
Listening on Asborg, Lissa wondered anew about that race’s ability to read emotional states, apparently among each other and, to some uncertain degree, in her species. Whether they could do it or not in more sentients than that was unknown, at least to any observers whose writing she’d consulted; but those were all human, of course. Could there be some exhalations of pheromones or whatever to smell—not impossible, as basically similar as the biochemistries were—or even the faint, faint radiations of brains to sense?
Both implausible here, when she was encased in a spacesuit. Body language, facial expression, tone of voice? She’d thought the best guess was that the Susaians used a suite of clues, and a highly-developed innate capability of interpretation. Very likely this one had had direct experience of her kind, or else had spent considerable time studying virtuals.
The question slipped out of her mind as she heard the being continue: “Names first? I designate myself—” the trans hesitated for an instant, tried “Mountain Copper,” and settled on “Orichalc. At present I function as male.”
“Lissa Windholm,” she had answered. “Female. I… imagine you know what my name signifies.”
“Yes. You belong to that one of Asborg’s dominant consanguinities.” It was the best rendition the program could make of a phrase in that particular Susaian language, which attempted to describe a concept perhaps unknown to any Susaian culture. “The one that I sought.”
“Then you know more about us than I do about you.”
“I was here briefly, three rejuvenations ago. That was as a crew member of a ship conveying an expedition sent to gather information about what was then a new colony.”
“Yes. I’ve studied the accounts. Your people’s only visit, wasn’t it?” Xanaduans, Rikhans, Sklerans, and Grib had also come for a look, found no threat nor any particular promise to them, and gone away again. Later contacts had been between individuals or crews or other small groups.
“Correct. Since then, of course, much has evolved. I have striven to bring my information up to date. Travelers often take along databases about their homes. A copy is an appreciated gift or a trade item of some value.”
“I know. But why did you care about us especially?”
The tail slithered back, whispering along the glabrous hide. “The second planet of this sun would be quite hospitable to my species.”
“Freydis?” Lissa’s image registered surprise. That hot, cloudy world of swamps and deserts? “Well, yes… I suppose so… but there must be plenty more in the galaxy, some of them better, that you haven’t settled yet, or even found.”
“True, However, I pray you, consider
“House Windholm doesn’t own all Freydis,” Lissa said. “Nobody does.”
“Correct.” The head grew large in sight, drawing near her helmet. Fangs glistened, eyes smoldered. “But your consanguinity is uniquely qualified. First, it does own the large island on the planet that you call New Halla.” He must have put a special entry in the trans’s program. “Territory of scant or no use to you, originally claimed for prestige and on the chance of mineral resources, retained merely because of inertia and, s-s-s, pride. Second, as of recent years, you have maintained exclusive operations on the moon Gunvor, This gave opportunity for a discreet approach. I realize my plan is hopeless unless we, your people and I, can suddenly present the Galaxy with an accomplished fact.”
Lissa’s tone grew strained. “What do you want?”
