The V'Dan (17 page)

“One prophecy has led to the next, resulting in my still being alive and thus able to stand before you today . . . but those are only
our own
prophecies. The Terrans have foreseers of their own, and were able to predict not only that they would encounter that same Salik warship, but were able to see the Ambassador’s face as one of the prominent players in that First Contact encounter.”

“I myself thought the odds were astronomical,” Jackie offered when he finished. “But one of our teachers of
psychic
abilities, holy gifts, reminded me that between the prophecies of your faith and the precognition of my own, those odds were not so much astronomically huge, as
guided
into taking place.”

“Is that how you got this position of Grand High Ambassador?” Grand High Priest Suva’an challenged her. “Purely by prophecy? Or is it simply a means to assert undue influence upon Her Eternity through leveraging the moods and thoughts of her son?”

Jackie wasn’t the only one to stiffen. For a moment, Heracles and Min and Aixa and Darian all tried to voice their protests to Jackie, wanting to give her support and— (
Quiet, all of you,
) she ordered. Out loud, Jackie stated in a calm, measured tone, “That is a serious accusation. It is, however, one born from complete ignorance of Terran ways.

“To reassure you, our highest levels of government studied that exact possibility. They determined that it would not happen. If you wish to press the matter, we will make the Council session in question available to everyone.
After
you have learned more of Terran values, Terran customs, Terran laws, and Terran ways. But
not
before,” she warned firmly, letting her expression turn a bit stern, even chiding. “A half-informed opinion is just as bad as an uninformed opinion. Until you know us better, you will have my personal word that I have zero interest in influencing the thoughts of Imperial Prince Kah’raman Li’eth V’Daania, and the word of my government that they place their faith in me to behave ethically in all such matters.”

“You insist that we are supposed to take the word of a foreign government on how their representative will behave around the son of our leader?” Suva’an challenged.

Rosa addressed that question. “The penalty for crimes committed via
psychic
abilities—your holy gifts—involves something we call
lobotomy
. It is a surgical procedure that scars, destroys, or even removes sections of the brain. It is done in stages as needed until the person ceases to be able to use their abilities.” She paused, then stated softly, “Naturally, this tends to leave the person mentally and even physically crippled for life. It is, I assure you, a penalty that all sane psychics strive to avoid, including the Grand High Ambassador. Her rank would not save her from that punishment if she were to ever lose her wits and commit such a crime.”

(
Should I mention . . . ?
) Li’eth asked Jackie, hesitant.

Knowing he meant his own near brush with the law, she negated it. (
Not at this time. That would be too much for them to understand; they would misread the severity and the salvation of it and focus on the wrong things. They just don’t understand us yet.
)

(
It will eventually have to be addressed. Your Terran psychic system is vastly different from V’Dan expectations,
) he pointed out.

(
We won’t lower our high standards for ourselves.
) Jackie smiled faintly. (
But we will try to be patient while your people bring themselves up to our
level
.
)

“How can you prevent such a thing?” the Truthspeaker was asking.

“Through yearly, and in some cases, twice-yearly, psychic examinations by neutral parties. Enough strong telepaths working in concert can overcome the natural defenses of even a very-high-ranked telepath such as the Ambassador,” Rosa explained.

(
Looks like Rosa has this in hand. Except we meant to discuss the religious aspects first.
)

(
I also failed to introduce the last two people.
) Clearing his throat, Li’eth stepped into the conversation again. “. . . As much as these things need to be discussed, I was not finished with the introductions on this side of the observation glass. If
you will please be patient and polite, I will return to doing so. The Terrans have their protocols, and we have ours.”

“Of course. Our apologies, meioas,” Ksa’an stated. Beside him, the five priests settled back in their chairs, some looking a little impatient but all willing to acknowledge that the interruption had been somewhat rude. Grand High Priest Suva’an nodded to the Imperial First Lord, who gestured in turn at his protocol counterpart. “Please continue introducing them to us, Your Highness.”

Dipping his head slightly, Li’eth did so. Jackie made more mental notes. It would be wise to plan out how to reveal the various psychic differences, as well as what and when. Half-answered questions could lead to the wrong conclusions all too easily.
Everything starts with our political processes, I think, and the history underlying our choices in being this way. Once they grasp how much we revile corruption and revere personal accountability,
then
maybe these people will grasp why we insist on being so ethical.

MAY 3, 2287 C.E.

DEMBER 26, 9507 V.D.S.

“So, that’s that?” Jackie asked Maria, Qua, and Kuna’mi. All three doctors nodded. They had requested that Jackie and Li’eth meet them in one of the conference rooms, but no one had bothered to sit down, since Maria had said in her message that the meeting would be brief. “There’s nothing left to test?”

“That is that,” Maria confirmed aloud. “The vaccines and antigens have passed medical testing and are being replicated for distribution . . . and the first of the modified
jungen
recipients have passed the initial forty hours of close observation
with flying colors. A bit of fever as expected, and general aches and pains, but those are subsiding right on schedule.”

“We’ll inoculate the rest of you in waves, wait a week for caution’s sake after the last of you gets a batch of my modified virus, then you should be free to leave quarantine,” Dr. Kuna’mi confirmed.

“Have you told Imperial First Lord Ksa’an?” Li’eth asked.

Qua shook her head. “It’s still night down at the Winter Palace—remember, our days are slightly longer. You’ve been trying to lengthen yours, but you’re still offset by a few hours at the moment. He wouldn’t be able to reach anyone important for another four, five hours, so I thought we’d tell you the good news first. You Terrans have been keeping yourselves carefully occupied, but we know these are tight quarters. If you have a goal to wait for, it should help ease the constricted feelings.”

“Rosa and I have been doing our best to keep everyone occupied and not thinking of all that, yes,” Jackie said. “The recreational facilities in your quarantine facilities weren’t meant to keep two hundred people physically occupied, but we’ve at least kept everyone mentally on the move.”

“At the rate of processing thirty of you a day—with monitoring assistance from your own medical staff—we should get the last of your people through their fever danger zone by the eighth day, then just add seven days to that,” Qua agreed. “As soon as Ksa’an can arrange things with Her Eternity’s Court, you’ll be able to head down to the capital by day sixteen, if all goes well, get settled into your ambassadorial quarters, and be introduced formally with full ceremony on day eighteen.”

“It’s just as well replication and distribution will take roughly two weeks,” Kuna’mi mused, her tone thoughtful. At Jackie’s quick look, the calm, composed, markless doctor explained. “It’s only three days to Janva 1, which is the start of the new year. Everyone will be celebrating the turnover, and they won’t have room in their schedules to add you to the lists—no insult is intended, of course, but New Year’s Day is the day when many worthy souls gather up their family’s merit certificates and petition for placement among the lowest of the nobles of the Second and First Tiers. But it’ll be well before Janva 29, which is the first official holy day of Winter.”

“I still don’t really get that,” Jackie told the
jungen
specialist. “I understand in theory what a caste system is, but Terrans evolved beyond that over a hundred years ago. We learned to acknowledge that all kinds of work can be worthy of doing, whether it’s being a Councilor, or being a janitor. The idea of being stuck in a Tier is incomprehensible to me.”

“There is some mobility,” Qua reassured her. “Most everyone in the Fourth and Fifth Tiers can move upward to the Third. That is, if they have the intelligence to master the high education levels and expert trade skills required. My family has more Fifth Tier workers—unskilled labor—than Fourth Tier, but here I am, clearly a member of the Third. Ambition, skill, and intelligence is all that is needed.”

“I think the Ambassador grasps all of that,” Kuna’mi told her companion, eyeing Jackie sideways. “I believe what she is looking for is the historical basis for the system, yes?”

“Yes, and why it’s held together so long,” Jackie said, grateful the markless woman understood what she really wanted to know. Then she wondered if the tightly shielded woman understood
too
well. She didn’t
think
her mind was open to general skimming . . .

“Part of it lies in the fact that the Empire has taken pains for millennia to express its appreciation for all of its members,” Kuna’mi told them. “There have been a few times when an emperor or empress—or even nobles serving as regional governors—have failed to do so, and the eventual uprisings of discontent have been stressed ever since as something to be avoided by a smart ruler. Acknowledging that every job is important in its own way, whether it’s skilled or unskilled, certainly helps. And each month gets one day to celebrate the hard work and accomplishments of the Fifth Tier, one to celebrate the Fourth, one to celebrate the Third, and one to collectively celebrate the efforts of the Second, First, and Imperial Tiers.”

“Those always take place on Firstrest Day,” Qua explained.

“¿Sábado, sí?”
Maria whispered to Jackie.

“Sí,”
she confirmed. At the bemused look from the two doctors, Jackie explained. “We call Firstrest Day
Saturday
, or
Sábado
in Dr. de la Santoya’s native language.”

“Thank you for explaining. The other reasons for the system’s working include that, for a very long time, those who earned the rank of noble became governors and overseers of
regions,” Kuna’mi continued. “Even the most alien of governments understands the sheer inertia of bureaucracy. To keep it from bogging down in nepotism, official government positions require a competency test, and as a corollary, noble parents are encouraged to pick the child that
best
can handle being their heir, and not just whoever is firstborn. That helps ensure the likelihood that an heir will make a competent head of the bloodline.”

“That would reduce the number of
idiotas
being put in charge, yes,” Maria agreed.

“I’m not certain what
idiotas
is, but I think I can guess the context,” Qua quipped. “And yes, it does help. Even in the Third and lower Tiers, we pick heirs we hope will be trustworthy.”

“One of the things that helps the lower Tiers accept the superiority of the higher Tiers is that those of even the highest Tier can fall to the very bottom of the heap,” Kuna’mi said next. “There’s nothing like a chance to feel superior to someone who used to be higher ranked than you, to help stroke the ego in our species.” She tipped her head to the side, acknowledging, “A cynical observation, but still a truthful one for many.”

“It’s said that the High One’s reign was free of castes, that everything She did when rewarding a subject was based upon their merit,” Qua offered. “Whereas the War King came from a culture with a caste system—two castes, warriors above, workers below. Somehow, the merging of the two eventually evolved into the five Tiers we have today—technically, six; no insult was meant, Your Highness.”

“None taken,” Li’eth reassured her.

“Well, while it is interesting to learn more about how your culture is arranged, I have ‘cultures’ that need to be watched,” Maria stated. The other two doctors gave her blank looks.

Jackie came to her rescue. “In our language, the word
culture
means not only the social rules and expectations for a specific group of people, but also refers to cultivating bacteria and so forth, taking samples and figuring out how to make them grow, that sort of thing. It’s a pun.”

“Ah, right. Puns. I didn’t realize the word could be used like that since you said it in V’Dan. I should go help you as well—To-mi, if the Ambassador has some time right now, why don’t you get her to give you one of those language transfers everyone
is talking about?” Qua offered to her colleague. “I’ve already had one from that nice older woman, Aixa. It’s been very helpful.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kuna’mi demurred, smiling.

Oh, this is interesting,
Jackie thought. She smiled back. “I would think that it
would
be very necessary. You are the foremost authority on the
jungen
virus. My people will want to interview you thoroughly to reassure us that we won’t get stripes or spots if we don’t want any.”

“Oh, I don’t think they’d go that far,” the markless woman tried again, shaking her head. “You’ll have plenty of people exchanging all sorts of knowledge, soon. And I’ll be needed to stay here, to monitor the version we’re giving your people.”

“I don’t invoke my social rank very often these days,” Li’eth stated. “But I am going to order you to sit with the Grand High Ambassador, Doctor. Learning Terranglo will only add to your authority and your ability to convey information. It will also increase the prestige of the Empire—you do have the time for it right now, Jackie?”

“Of course—if you’ll excuse us, Doctors?” she added to Qua and de la Santoya. Both women nodded and took themselves out of the conference room. Jackie sent privately to Li’eth, (
I take it you’re having some of the same suspicions as I am?
)

(
Yes. She’s most likely a Feyori in disguise,
) he said.

(
I’m not a Feyori,
) a third mental voice stated. Kuna’mi’s voice. She met their brief, sharp looks with a polite, mild smile. (
Or, not exactly. I was
also
hoping to simply smooth things over, but otherwise stay out of the spotlight.
) Gesturing at the chairs of the conference table, she said out loud, “If we’re going to do this, perhaps we should sit down? Will you be joining us, Your Highness? I’m sure it might turn out to be helpful someday if you learn, or at least can observe, how language transfers work.”

“I don’t have anything else to do,” he murmured, and moved to take a seat.

Since the table in this room was reasonably narrow, Jackie seated herself at one end, and the two V’Dan flanked her in the nearest chairs, Li’eth to her right and Kuna’mi to her left. “Join hands, please, and relax your minds. Breathe deeply four times
with me, to help clear stress and open up your thoughts to contact . . .”

Kuna’mi breathed deep, let it out . . . and chuckled mentally. (
I haven’t heard those words in a very long time. I’ve said them, but I haven’t heard them.
)

(
You’re the Immortal, aren’t you?
) Li’eth asked the doctor, suspicion crystallizing sharply in his subthoughts. (
If you’re not a Feyori shaped like a V’Dan, then you can only be the Immortal. She was said to be the child of two half-breeds.
)

(
Very clever of you to remember that. It’s an obscure bit of history. And yes, I am, which is why I wanted to help the Terrans transition through this meeting with the
jungen
virus but did not want to catch royal attention,
) the woman confessed.

Jackie was still a bit skeptical, but she could feel the awe and reverence in her Gestalt partner. (
So what does that mean, you’re Immortal?
)

(
It means I cannot be killed. Not by accident, not by old age. I can appear to age . . . if I put some thought and effort into it,
) she allowed. (
But slay me, and a handful of seconds later, I pop back to life. Since I really do not enjoy the whole painful dying part, that usually puts me in a bad mood, so I wouldn’t recommend testing the theory empirically.
)

(
Of course not—and you wish to remain unacknowledged because you made a promise to my ancestor to stay out of V’Dan politics,
) Li’eth said next. (
Correct?
)

(
Correct. When I originally created the
jungen
virus, it was not the one I already had within me. That one was based on the version I gave
your
people, Ambassador,
) the doctor told them. (
The original was a viral agent endemic to V’Dan.
)

(
Call me Jackie, please,
) Jackie said.

(
Call me To-mi, then. Don’t call me Shey, young man,
) she added, cutting off the rise of Li’eth’s subthoughts. (
Discretion is key. As I was saying, the original one given over ninety-five centuries ago was a native beast. My equipment was primitive at best when it came time to genetically manipulate it so that it could alter the genes of a Human host appropriately. That’s how it got a little messed up, adding in the marks. I knew that would happen, though, so I wasn’t overly concerned about it. The current version is based on tweaking that followed the version I was given, roughly four hundred years into the future.
)

Jackie and Li’eth exchanged looks. They returned their gazes to the woman on the left side of the table, both with arched brows.

(
Mind your physical reactions, children,
) the Immortal chided. (
Remember,
everything
we do in quarantine is being recorded, and
will
be analyzed. I don’t need a transfer of Terranglo because I already speak it, but we will have to sit here for a handful of hours.
)

(
I should’ve visited the washroom,
) Li’eth quipped dryly. (
If that is so, isn’t the version you speak four hundred years out of date? A linguistic anachronism?
)

(
Not by that much. I only left Earth a few months after the
Councilor One
tragedy,
) To-mi told them. (
I knew from my history lessons that moving back to V’Dan at that time would give me the chance to set myself up for the single most vital First Contact moment in the Alliance. That was in 2265 Terran Standard, which gave me twenty-two years to establish an identity, slog through biology and medical lessons, gain my certificates, and become the foremost expert on
jungen
in the entire Empire. In other words, the person that would be tapped to help adapt Terran biology to handle V’Dan histaminic overloads.
)

(That
is what you think is the most vital part of this whole First Contact situation?
) Li’eth asked, somewhat incredulous. (Allergies?)

(
I have learned over the millennia that what is truly important is often seemingly insignificant. Without this very real biological hurdle being negated, Terrans will not be able to attend most Alliance meetings—which are held in V’Dan-friendly spaces. They will not be able to colonize other worlds—again, with the aid of previously established colonial knowledge thanks to the V’Dan—and so on and so forth. Your soldiers won’t be able to serve on V’Dan ships or V’Dan planets, you won’t be able to communicate in person . . . I see you get my point, yes?
)