Trang (12 page)

“I can see why,” said Philippe, who
had figured out Pinky and Cut but was still stumped by her objection to
Five-Eighths.

“Yeah, I don’t kill babies. I ain’t
no Yooper.”

The casualness of the jab irritated
Philippe and interrupted his mental recitation of all the vulgarities he knew
that contained numbers. “I don’t know where you heard that, but I’ve worked a
great deal with the Union Police on many, many missions, and they don’t kill
babies either.”

Baby’s eyes widened “Oh, I’m
sorry,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “It’s just that, you know, they don’t
kill nobody, so everyone thinks it’s OK, but it’s still force, right? But
everyone thinks it’s not, so they fight folks who are angry that their guy
didn’t get elected or potato farmers who can’t sell no potatoes. I mean, we at
least get to fight
bad
guys, like General Jesus at Guantánamo.”

The next day—or whatever they called it on the
station—Philippe stepped out of the no man’s zone with Shanti, Vip, Mo, and the
medic Gingko as an entourage to find Max and Moritz standing there, thrumming.
They exchanged hearty greetings.

“Are we on time?” Philippe asked.

“Almost exactly,” said Moritz.

“Oh good, we
did
have the
correct time,” said Philippe, pleased. “And you didn’t have to keep a vigil
after all.”

“Our vigil was entirely unnecessary
as a practical matter because your time-keeping was accurate,” replied Moritz.
“But it was a spiritually fulfilling experience nonetheless.”

Oh, crap,
thought Philippe.
They had spent the entire night outside the door after all.

“I was hoping that you would avoid the
inconvenience of such a vigil,” he said, weakly.

“The vigil was a welcome
opportunity,” said Max. “Any priest in either one of our orders would be
delighted to hold such a vigil. It is always worthwhile to spend focused time
with a family member and fellow, contemplating one’s purpose.”

The two Hosts gave each other a
satisfied look, and Philippe decided he’d better move on. “In that case, it is
an opportune time for us to talk, because I would like to discuss our purpose
in coming to this station with you.”

“That is a very good idea,” said
Moritz. “There are many convenient locations on this floor where we could
talk.”

Philippe had given a good deal of
thought to how he was going to frame his next question.

“I have a request, but I do not
know if this request might be considered troubling,” he began. “I hope that it
is not and I apologize if I offend or frighten you. But I would appreciate the
honor of visiting your living area, if it would not be considered inappropriate
for me to do so. If it is problematic, even to the smallest degree, I would be
delighted to restrict our interactions to the common areas.”

“Everyone on this station has
complete authority over the area in which they live,” replied Max. “In the case
of the Hosts, we welcome and desire visitation by others. It would please us
immensely if you would please come with us to our living area.”

Relieved, Philippe followed Max and
Moritz to one of the elevators, followed in turn by his soldiers. They waited
for an elevator to arrive, and rode three levels up, getting off and following
the Hosts to an open doorway.

“This is our living area,” said
Max, gesturing to the passage.

“You have no doors,” said Shanti,
almost to herself.

“No,” said Moritz, as they entered
the living area, which was less expansive but otherwise indistinguishable from
the common area. “It is imperative to us that we not close ourselves off from
the other people who inhabit this station. Our purpose is to be at one with
your people and the other people, so we do not close off our living area, and
we do not modify the environment in our area.”

The medic wrinkled his brow. “Uh,
correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you have to modify the atmosphere in the
common area in preparation for our arrival?” asked Gingko. “I thought the
environment there is just a big compromise—all of the species here can tolerate
it, but it’s not exactly optimal for anybody’s health, especially if you’re
exposed to it all the time.”

The Hosts’ expressions remained
serene. “The more important goal for us is to bring together different kinds of
people and create a bond between them and us,” said Moritz. “Living in a
sub-optimal environment merely creates a constant reminder of our true
purpose.”

“We can discuss it at length in
this room,” said Max, sliding a door open.

They entered a room with a low,
raised platform in the center. Max and Moritz walked to the far side of the
platform and turned to face the humans, standing comfortably. Philippe stood in
silence for a moment, and then realized he was waiting for a chair to
materialize. Since this was not likely to happen, he decided that he would sit
on the ground, cross-legged, a move that was greeted with suppressed surprise
by the two Hosts.

“These are very small
things—nothing that genuinely matters,” said Philippe. “It is only that we were
curious: Are we allowed to install cameras and listening devices in the common
area?”

“You certainly may install
monitoring equipment anywhere in the common area,” said Max. “Other people do,
and most activity in the common area is monitored.”

“In addition,” Moritz chimed in,
“you should meet with the Swimmers. They are, as it was sung, ‘the ones who
will know how to listen and who will see.’ They provided us with the
translation technology, and their drones act as the station’s security and
maintenance system. They habitually allow others to access their security
footage.”

“They are truly invaluable,” said
Max.

“A blessing to all people, provided
by benevolent providence,” said Moritz, looking rapturous.

“Thank you—they sound great,” said
Philippe, feeling somewhat less rapturous. He definitely planned to meet with
the Swimmers—humanity should at least be able to see who it was they’d been
speaking to this entire time.

“The other matter,” he continued,
“is also insignificant, and I hesitate to bring it up. But as you know, the
names for other species were provided by one of our security experts. He did
his best, but I am concerned that some of the names he chose are not
appropriate and will lead to confusion. For example, he chose to call one
species ‘Pincushions.’ A pincushion is a common household object on Earth, and
I fear that in the future people will not be able to have conversations about
pincushions with other species without causing confusion.”

Philippe mentally crossed his
fingers. He had spent the night trying to hit on a way to make the request
without revealing how flippant some of Patch’s names were.

Max and Moritz looked at each
other, hesitating. Philippe could tell what the answer was going to be.

“Unfortunately,” Max began, “yours
is not an uncommon request. People often want to change the names they have
chosen for other people, for a range of reasons.”

“In some cases, they have named
people after figures in their own culture who then fall out of favor. Or, as
your expert did, a person names a people because they physically resemble an
object or creature, and then another person disagrees about the resemblance. Or
new leadership comes to the station, and wants to create new names as a way of
establishing authority,” said Moritz

Both looked uneasy—it was clearly
unpleasant for them to say no.

“When names change frequently, it
creates additional work for the Swimmers. In addition, frequent changes of
names for other peoples often confuse individuals of the same people, who
forget which name is now in use,” said Max. “So we have become very
conservative regarding such name changes.

“You mention the Pincushions as an
unacceptable name. I ask, did you bring many pincushions with you to this
station? Are conversations about pincushions likely to occur with great
frequency? If not, then we would request that you not change the name.”

“I understand. It’s perfectly OK—it
was not an important request,” Philippe replied
.
“I have one last
question for you, which is not a request but instead an attempt to learn. You
have built this large station. What is it used for? What was your purpose in
building it?”

“Those are two very separate
topics,” said Moritz.

“I assume, however, that you are
wondering what the various people who live here do, and what your people can do
here on this station,” said Max.

“To a degree, yes,” said Philippe.
“Our goal in coming here is to hopefully establish friendly relations with the
various alien races, so that we can learn from each other.”

“Our purpose is similar,” said
Moritz. “To create friendship and fulfill our destiny as being friends to other
people.”

“Other people have somewhat
different purposes in being here,” said Max. “Some trade goods on this station,
while others seem content merely to observe. Some, such as the Swimmers, feel
they have an obligation to help different people interact in a cooperative
way.”

It seemed like an opportune time to
shoehorn in his most important request, so Philippe went for it. “Do you think
that—with your assistance—it would be possible for me to meet with the various
alien races? I would like to visit them in their living areas, like I am doing
with you right now.”

The Hosts looked delighted.

“We would be very pleased to help
you as much as we can in that endeavor,” said Max.

“What we shall do,” said Moritz,
“is contact each people in the order that they arrived here and attempt to
arrange a meeting with each of them.”

Philippe smiled.
At least this
much is going to plan,
he thought.

“Thank you so much for your help,”
he said. “I believe that concludes my business here. Do you have any questions
or requests for us?”

“Not at this time,” said Max. “We
will contact you when we have arranged one or more of the aforementioned
meetings, which we will do as soon as possible.”

The humans walked in silence to the
elevator, waited for it as it came down, and stepped on, the only passengers.
They traveled down a floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Vip spat
the words out.

“Hey!” said Mo, punching Vip in the
arm. “Language!”

“Sorry, but come on. What the freck
was that?” Vip looked at Philippe. “When did those cameras become unimportant?
They’re not unimportant.”

“Shut it,” snapped Shanti.
“Remember what they said about the common area.”

Vip glared at Philippe all during
the walk back to their living area. Cut and Doug were standing guard at either
side of the closed door, which opened to let them into the no man’s land.