Ambassador 6: The Enemy Within

Chapter 1-2

I sat down opposite Abri. Ynggi sat on the carpet next to her. One did not sit in a higher spot than an elder. Ynggi was the least traditionally dressed of all of them, although I didn’t think the pale blue skirt he wore was going to do the job when travelling on the shuttle, let alone on Earth.

And what was that? Why was that toddler still here, in the arms of the woman who was Abri’s daughter?

“The tribal council decided it was a three-generation matter,” Abri said, picking up on the fact that I had noticed the child. “My generation . . .” She pointed at herself with her tail, and then at her daughter whose name was Kita, and then at the child. “My daughter and my daughter’s daughter. Three generations to talk. Kasamo was a good person, happy to share his fish with others. We come so that they punish hairy face for killing him.” Thousand Island Pengali never used the names of people they did not respect. Robert Davidson, gun-crazy rogue mining magnate, had never shown any respect to the tribe. Gusamo Sahardjo, the victim of the crime—or Kasamo as the Pengali called him—had been a friend to the tribe.

“Hairy face has come too often and taken too many of our young men. He promised them things that were not his to promise. Money! What use do we have for that? Just so that the young ones leave and never come back? So that they get in with the bad crowd, become rebellious and rude? Hairy face needs to be punished for killing Pengali also.”

“I did tell you that the issue of Pengali victims will need to be raised later. This trial will be about Robert killing Gusamo.”

I hated telling Abri this when she asked, and she had asked every time I’d seen her: how can we punish him for what he did to us? I had no answers for her. People on Earth were not going to be interested in punishing Robert for crimes against non-humans.

Besides, I was pretty sure that without legal framework, which we didn’t have because Earth was not a member of gamra, it would be almost impossible to charge someone from Earth with the murder of non-Earth people in the absence of a formal accusation, or, for that matter, much evidence.

I had asked the lawyers about it, because it felt like the right thing to do, but the Nations of Earth prosecutor, Conrad Martens, who specialised in cases like this, had said that the first step would have to be the current trial.

The little Pengali youngster peeked from over the top of the cloth bundle that her mother used to carry her. She crawled out. She was stark naked, completely covered, like all Pengali young children, in skin patterns which would become less prominent as she grew. Thousand Island tribe patterns were most commonly giraffe-like.

Her hair was still down-like and fuzzy.

She held her tail straight up to convey alertness. People on Earth spoke about “monkeys” but Pengali were nothing like that. They always walked with a straight back. Their back legs were strong and their arms were quite short. They used them for holding on, but I had never seen a Pengali older than a baby walk on all fours. They didn’t look like any kind of Earthly animal at all. But her huge eyes and her little hands made her incredibly cute.

“Introduce the little one to me.”

“This is Idda.” Abri picked the youngster up. Huge dark eyes met mine. I could see my reflection in them. “She was born in the season of the rains.”

The previous year, I assumed. That made her almost two, about the same age as Nicha’s son Ayshada, who had gone out with the nanny and should be back home soon. “I understand you want her to come on the trip?”

“It is a three-generation issue.” I guessed that was a roundabout way of saying yes.

“A lot of the places where we’re going will not be welcoming to children.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Do they not have children?”

“They do, of course, but children cannot come into a great many places where adults do business. They don’t consider it appropriate.”

She gave me a blank look. Even when I visited her at the tribe, when I had first heard of the impending trial and the fact that the prosecutor wanted to call Abri as witness, I had never felt that Abri came even close to understanding what sort of society she would be visiting.

And we were coming in with a bunch of people who didn’t like wearing clothes, and two two-year-olds—because Nicha was bringing Ayshada. I guessed I could ask the nanny to look after this Pengali youngster as well. It would give Ayshada someone to play with.

One of the junior domestic staff showed the Pengali their room, and all became quiet for a while.

When the Pengali had left the hall, Nicha, Thayu and I reconvened in my office, which overlooked the marshlands that surrounded Barresh.

“It will be interesting,” Thayu said.

“I just don’t understand what the lawyers at Nations of Earth are hoping to achieve and whether we can deliver it,” I said. “It would help a lot if we knew what they expected to get by dragging a witness like Abri into court, when it would be just as easy to record a testimony and deal with it remotely. There has to be a secondary purpose for our visit.”

They both nodded. We’d been through it so many times, looked at political situations on Earth, and considered motives, but we had no answers.

Melissa Heyworth, who had been shot and wounded by Robert, and who was Earth’s gamra representative, was already at the court. She had also been explicitly told not to discuss particulars of her testimony with Abri—and with me by extrapolation—in the interest of fairness of the trial.

We had stuck to that. We wanted Robert convicted of his deeds, and we didn’t want to risk that he got off on a technicality. I also knew that if there was anything particularly controversial to share, Melissa had emergency ways of contacting us that wouldn’t be picked up by Nations of Earth, so I guessed that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

It was just that it took a huge chunk of time and effort out of my regular job to essentially be a chaperone to a group of Pengali.

But Ezhya Palayi, Chief Coordinator of Asto, who was my direct employer, had said to me, “Take the time you need. I don’t know where it will take us, but the situation is very curious and I’ll be watching. One way or another, we’ll learn something from it.”

And this was where I was glad to work for him, and not a rigid Earth-based employer who required me to work against set benchmarks and work only on certain projects and justify my time spent away from those projects.

I’d often watched Melissa deal with this. She’d had to apply to take time out from her job as Nations of Earth representative to testify. Nations of Earth hadn’t liked it. They might even take her off certain projects and that would set back her career. I knew Melissa still hoped to get a job at Nations of Earth headquarters in Rotterdam at some point and she needed her brownie points.

Nicha said, “Karana can look after the Pengali child.” In the silence, he’d clearly been thinking about practical issues.

“Yes, I thought the same. She can keep Ayshada entertained.”

Then he said, “We need to press the issue of clothing on them. Can you imagine the news when the Pengali turn up in full tribal outfits?”

I could imagine the sensation. I could already hear the words primitive and natives and all the judgement that accompanied them. “We’ll have to make sure they dress appropriately at all times.”

Thayu snorted. “They’ll be stubborn until they get there and realise it is cold over there. Then they’ll wear the clothes no problem.”

“Yeah, we better take some extra just in case. I know Pengali are not stupid, but they’re going into this pretty unprepared for what they’ll face.”

“Yes, it will be very interesting.”

I agreed.

Nicha said he wanted to bathe Ayshada and went out, leaving me alone with Thayu.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her.

“Tired.”

She looked tired. I wished I didn’t have to drag her into this. Not now.

After postponing my fertility treatment in order to wait for a better time we decided that there was never going to be a better time, and started with the easiest and least invasive genetic treatment option. It was not without discomfort. It had involved poking needles into my . . . you get the gist.

But it had worked, and Thayu was pregnant. We had not announced it to anyone since it was early days, but my household knew. And Thayu was different. Moody, emotional.

I took her in my arms and kissed her on her forehead.

“We’ll be like a travelling sideshow,” I said. “Every news service on Earth will be full of stuff that Pengali get into, what they look like, what they wear, or don’t wear.”

“Maybe that’s the point of it, putting them on display.”

“That would make sense if there was an election going on and Margarethe was pushing for Earth to join gamra.” But the election had been a few months ago, Margarethe had been re-elected with the narrowest of margins, and the last time I’d heard anyone at Nations of Earth speak about Earth joining gamra was years ago.

It looked less likely to happen than it ever had in my lifetime.

I let out a breath and registered the delicious smells coming in from the hall. “Let’s go and get ready for that great fish. I’m looking forward to it.”

But when I went into the hallway, we met Devlin coming the other way with a reader in his hand. His face carried an expression of worry.

“Muri, this just came for you.”

He handed the reader to me. There was only one type of communication that would come this way, and sure enough, on the screen was a message from the Nations of Earth court. The first few paragraphs rehashed the details of the hearing. I skimmed over those, because I was already familiar with them. The last paragraph said,

Please ensure that you bring a translator acceptable to the court. Acceptable persons include any such certified, who must, in addition, not be a member of the group that the witness belongs to. Please resubmit your proposed official translator.

Crap. Holy crap.

I stared at Thayu, who had read over my shoulder.

I asked, heart thudding, “Does this mean they’re not approving us to use Ynggi?”

“It reads that way to me.”

“They have to be f*****g kidding!” We were all ready to go. I spent months sorting this out, getting Abri ready, getting the permits, the new IDs, the health checks, everything.

But Nations of Earth had less humour than a dead fish. There it was in clear letters: please resubmit your proposed official translator and not be a member of the group the witness belongs to.

They weren’t going to accept Ynggi as translator.

“Where do they think I’m going to get someone at such short notice?” Ynggi was one of the few Thousand Island Pengali who had lived in the city and had enough knowledge to translate official terms.

You couldn’t take anyone from the Washing Stones tribe to translate for the Thousand Island tribe, even if people from the Thousand Island tribe rarely spoke keihu or trusted people who did; and you couldn’t find a translator who translated from Pengali into Coldi who was available and was happy to work for Thousand Island people without being from the tribe. Dog, meet tail.

Well, wasn’t that just awesome?

I snorted. “I’m going to take him anyway.” I trusted Ynggi. I’d been in contact with him for months. He did a good job and was probably the Thousand Island Pengali with the most gumption about other worlds. He was not staying behind, even if I had to pay for his trip.

Thayu said, “We’ll still need someone else.”

Yes, I knew that, and when I met Veyada in the hall just before dinner and explained the situation to him, he agreed, after uttering a few strong words. “Just to appease their conditions. I don’t think we’ll be able to find anyone who is any good in that very short time.”

We might not, but I could see Nations of Earth cancel the trial over this trivial issue. They were bureaucratic enough for that, and I didn’t know if I could organise Abri to come here a second time without both her and me losing face with the tribe. Losing face was a big thing with Pengali. Promises had to be kept and failures to do so were chalked up to a person’s social standing over that person’s entire lifetime.

I shook my head. “I’ll have to try.”

But then I remembered the talk with my accountant. Who was going to pay for one extra person? I could not leave Ynggi behind. Three adults was a small enough group already. As we’d seen, Pengali travelled in bigger groups, usually with a few young male fighters. I couldn’t leave him here. But if I overshot my travel budget before I’d even begun, the accountant would eat me alive.

Well, damn it.