Quiet Invasion(148)

But if Z’eth heard him, she gave no sign. She kept her gaze fixed on the communicator.

“Community is a resource,” said Z’eth. “One which we hope you will provide for us. You have studied this world for a long time and we hope you will share your knowledge with us.”

No, no. There can be no community here. This world must be ours alone. They cannot be controlled, cannot be predicted. I hold your promise!

“In return,” said Z’eth, spreading her wings to show their scope and the canopy of her tattoos to the New People waiting in their shelters, “we hope we can help you.” No one questioned her right to speak or her words. D’seun’s gaze swept the assembled ambassadors, and he wondered how many of them owed promises to Z’eth.

The image of Ambassador Helen bobbed its face several times. “This all sounds very good, but what assurance can you give us that you will not change your position later, when there are more of you here?”

That was a tricky question. It raised implications of sanity. If the People were insane, they’d lie. But there was no way to prove sanity in advance. After a moment, Ambassador P’tkei descended to within the translator’s range and spoke. “What assurance would you accept?”

There was a long pause, even after the words had been fed to the translator. “Good question.”

D’seun fluttered, inflating and deflating rapidly, angry at this show of understanding and aware his anger was absurd. They would betray themselves soon enough. This was a thin shell. It would crack. “This world was declared New Home by the High Law Meet. Since then, miles had passed under us both and we have done nothing but debate your status and save your lives. If we were insane, as you fear, and meant to destroy you, would we not have done so already?”

Another pause. Were they debating over there? Or were they just trying to understand?

At last, the answer came. “I can accept this.”

“Then we have our understanding?” said Z’eth. “You agree this world is ours to make our new Home?”

“Yes,” said the translator. “To you, this is New Home, and together we have community. You will help us if we need it, as you helped the others in the scarab that crashed?”

“Life helps life,” said Z’eth. “We will do what we can.”

“Our situation here is not easy.” The image of the ambassador seemed to shrink a bit. “There are those with whom we disagree about our rights to this world, and consequently yours. They might attempt to cut off our supply routes from the other worlds. We may be forced to ask for a great deal of assistance in maintaining ourselves here.”

Hope and fear burned together inside D’seun. There was clear acknowledgment that this was New Home. That would relax many of the ambassadors at his back. But there were words in this delectation that would raise the questions he needed openly debated. Here was the first crack in the New People’s shell.

D’seun opened his muzzle to speak, but Z’eth spoke first. “This is our world, together. We will of course help you.”

Ambassador Helen’s image raised its hands again. “Thank you, Ambassadors all. We will talk more in the future. Hopefully our engineers can find a way to make this easier.”

“I am certain they can.” Pride swelled Z’eth. She hadn’t heard it, then. That was all right. He would make her hear.

“Good-bye, then,” said the words beneath Ambassador Helen.

“Good luck in your life.”

Z’eth a apparently resisted the urge to trumpet her triumph, but she did spread her wings to the assembled ambassadors. “We have them. We have this world. Clean and clear, it is ours.”

“But we still have a problem,” said D’seun, deflating humbly.

“Ambassador?” Z’eth shrank to something close to her normal size.

“The other New People. Their distant family on their other world.” He swelled and lifted his muzzle, making sure his words touched all the Law Meet of New Home. “Did you not hear the ambassador? They are willing to dispute the clear and legitimate claims to this world, when they have no counterclaims in place. They are insane.”

Vee watched D’seun and the other ambassadors spread their wings and rise gracefully into the sky like a dream of golden birds.

“I cannot believe you did that,” she whispered harshly to the command board. “Holy God and Mother Creation, I cannot believe you did that!”

I can’t believe I let you do that. Vee looked down at her own hands on the command board. Helen Failia once again sat in the pilot’s seat

“I didn’t do anything,” said Helen, firmly. “I just made sure we had backup in case the C.A.C. tries to force us to do things their way.”