In the Name of Earth

Chapter 6: Interspecific Interchange

The months following Marvin’s arrival on Gaia Station had been, easily, the best of his life!

After receiving his own universal translator—a small round electronic device attached to the back of his head through basic suction—it had been possible to conveniently converse with every other student and EDS member. Ever since then, Marvin had met people from all five continents and even a scientist from the arctic. The device also allowed Marvin to read the adventures of Nebula & Stardust, and he had to admit those stories were pretty darn good!

Despite spending most days in the company of his fellow diplomat freshmen, Marvin would also grow fond of his roommate and eventually join him on engineering social events, which were surprisingly the wildest ones in the station. It wasn’t long before Marvin became a house name among the science branch of the EDS and was welcomed into their parties even when unaccompanied by Ludwig.

Every week he would also cross Alexa’s path coming or going from class at least twice. They would rarely do more than exchange a glance, and hers was often not a warm one.

Marvin’s father would come and go from the station, and in an odd observation Marvin realized he had seen his father more in those six months than he did in any other six months of his life. Both of them made a point of keeping minimum contact in order to avoid whispers and rumors about favoritism and nepotism, but that did not stop Marvin from being summoned for lunch at the Chief-Ambassador’s office every other week. Not only was his father’s chambers the most breathtaking work of architecture Marvin had ever seen, the food served to high command was mind-blowing. A blend of Earthen food and alien delicacies that made standard human cuisine taste like dirt.

Every two months or so, the two men would teleport back to Earth and pay a visit to their lonely wife and mother who had since joined a book club and taken up bowling as a hobby. For her and all of Marvin’s friends back home, he had been selected for a special diplomacy intensive course in Sweden, which was backed by extremely convincing photo editing.

Every passing day, Marvin would learn a new trick. A new secret of space and the many species that inhabited the unexplored confines of the galaxy. There were just so many! So many cultures, so many variations! Between Mr. Watson’s lectures on the Galactic Code, Mrs. Ming dissection of alien arts and religions and his own father’s tales of firsthand experiences, a fantastical galaxy was slowly taking shape before Marvin’s eyes. Certainly, there were still gaps on the knowledge, and reading the GalacPedia only did so much to fill them. In the end, a major portion of the universe’s mysteries were still just that. Mysteries. Mysteries awaiting to be unraveled by someone.

Maybe, Marvin could only hope, he would be that someone.

He was sure battling for that right. Doing all within his power to become the best diplomat possible. Not only the best in his class, but one who could one day set out to represent the best of humanity before the galaxy. The effort was showing on his grades, quelling whatever doubt classmates or professors could have about the legitimacy of his presence there. The only individual in the ESD who still refused to acknowledge that was Alexa.

Not that she mattered. She was just one rude chick whose opinion mattered little to nothing.

Well, at least that was what Marvin kept telling himself, and for some reason he ignored his own words and kept hoping for a sign of recognition from the British EDS administrator.

Ludwig, having to live with the guy, had not taken long to pick up on the signs, and one day, six days into Marvin’s time in Gaia Station, decided to use his engineering superpowers for good.

“Gift for you, Marv!” Ludwig waved his infopad as he walked into the shared bedroom. “Just saying though, when you’re Chief-Ambassador you’ll owe me a little something.”

Laying on the bed, Marvin looked up from his own infopad.

“What is it?”

“You know how I like sneaking around the maintenance accesses to loot the galley at night?”

“Yes, and I’m thankful for all the chips you steal for me.”

“Today I took a wrong and ended up on the HR offices,” Lud slid his fingers on the screen of his pad and a notification popped up on Marvin’s. “See for yourself!”

It was the results for Marvin’s admission test, taken under the guise of an UN evaluation. Proof that he had conquered his seat at the EDS table. Not that he or anyone else needed that, but both roommates knew clear as day what Marvin was supposed to do with that.

The following day, on his way to Interspecific Communication class, Marvin purposefully took a detour and ran into none other than Alexa herself.

“Hey!” he called to the sharply dressed senior student.

She stopped on her path and turned to him, sharp eyes studying the man’s muscular frame. This time, however, the annoyance and mistrust from six months prior were gone, replaced with a hint of curiosity.

“I got hold of a little something,” Marvin waved his infopad. “My admission test.”

“You want to impress me, Grant?” she asked, corking an eyebrow.

“Nah,” he proceeded to immediately delete the file. “I know you already checked it. You have access, being admin. Thing is, it was the first time I saw them. Turns out I did pretty great, so I have to wonder what got you so hot on my heels.”

“Maybe I just don’t trust your motivations,” Alexa’s pale cheeks assumed a red hue just as a challenging twinkle was added to her eyes.

“I don’t think that’s it either…” Marvin paced around pensively, a smug grin on. “What did you say that first day again? ‘What i***t would want to go back knowing there is a galaxy to explore’? Something along those lines?”

“You have a point, Grant?”

“Administration doesn’t do much exploring, does it?”

“No. It doesn’t,” the sparkle on her gaze seemed to fade away.

“I can talk to my dad, if you want…”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” shaking her short hair, Alexa paced away, then stopped and looked over her slick shoulder. “Thanks, though. Really.”

“See you around the cafeteria?” Marvin smiled.

“I’m there every morning,” she smiled back, but only slightly. “Now get to your class, Grant, or I will report you!”

***

Interspecific Communications was one of Marvin’s favorite subject on the starting semester. There was something simply fascinating in learning the subtle hints of intonation and body language of different cultures, their greeting rituals from the most explicit chest pounding to the most subtle head tilts. Still, concentrating on that particular lesson was proving difficult once his mind kept skipping to the possibility of breakfast with Alexa.

But why did he care? Alien communications were more important than a meaningless meal with someone. Several species, he had read, did not even include sustenance consumption on their courting rituals.

Wait, who had said anything about courting?! Focus, Marvin, focus!

“Let’s talk about this!” Miss Fahad, the Communications instructor and one of the diplomats closest to Marvin’s father in hierarchy, raised a small metallic disk. The communicator stuck to each of their necks. “So far you have used this to speak your mother language with each other. I’m giving this lesson in Arabic, anyone here knows Arabic?”

Only six people raised their hands out of the four dozen students. Still, everyone comprehended her perfectly.

“But there are far more applications to the Universal Translator. It’s not limited to human languages. On the contrary, its whole purpose is to facilitate alien communications, and not all aliens communicate through sounds as we do. So for a successful communication and sometimes for your own life’s sake, having these manners in mind is key.

“The aquatic natives of Hydroxyla, for instance, communicate through bioluminescence. Therefore, having them within your sight is fundamental for clear comprehension. If you look away from a single moment you may miss a key piece of information that will disfigure the whole sentence your Translator returns.

“Other species, like the Causers, mix senses on their speech. Case in point, their sentences are composed in equal measure of both verbal vociferation and the emission of pheromones. Therefore, you should never, ever, ever, I cannot emphasize that enough, engage a Causer if you have a cold, allergies, rhinitis or anything that compromises your sense of smell. If you can’t smell the pheromones, your Translator won’t catch the difference between ‘this is a valuable commercial deal’ and ‘you are a cheap scoundrel who must be executed’. You’ll respond to the wrong sentence, they’ll cut your head off and I will need to defuse that crisis. Again.”

“Wait, was she serious?” Marvin whispered to the girl sitting next to him.

“I sure hope not.”

“Yes, that was a true story, Mr. Grant,” Miss Fahad replied from the lecture stand. There was no way she could have heard their whispers from that far away. “Humans don’t communicate exclusively through sound either. Some hearing deprived aliens will resort to your lips to communicate, so you might wanna cover them when talking about how ugly they are. You’ll also want to mind to not cover your lips or look away when speaking to them. It would be extremely rude!

“And speaking of unusual species, we have a special guest today,” as the woman spoke, a smaller door at the front of the lecture hall opened to a bipedal creature covered in pink fur that waved with every step. A strip of orange fur ran from to top of the thing’s head over a hunchback and down his back until a diminutive tail. The only present articles of clothing were a set of brown pants and a brown hat that toped a face with a single huge eye that studied the mesmerized crowd.

“Class, meet Qui’Mal. He is a Nikal and our very first Interspecific Interchange student!” the teacher introduced the pink alien who reluctantly waved at the others, not quite sure if he was doing it right. “This is a unique opportunity for you all to practice Interspecific Communication and learn about this amazing race, but also learn about diplomacy in general! See how Qui’Mal is incorporating our standard greeting to his approach?”

Marvin would have whispered a joke about that, but he—and all his colleagues—were far to awestruck by their first sight of a living, breathing alien.

“Another detail worth highlight is his pants,” the teacher went on. “Not something they do on his homeworld, but a human tradition he adheres to in respect to his host. Throughout your careers, you’ll need to do the same.”

Now Marvin had to raise his hand. That question was far from a joke, but an actual concern.

“Mr. Grant?”

“If we ever visit his planet, are we expected to go… naked?”

The professor raised an eyebrow and turned to Qui’Mal for the answer.

“Please do not,” the alien replied on a deep mellow voice probably generated from a mouth hidden under the fur. “We wish not to see that!”

The class laughed.

Marvin laughed too. He liked that alien!