—You do realize there’s no way I’m ever gonna pilot Themis for you, right?
—Oh, Vincent, Vincent … Why do you do this to yourself? … I know you’ve seen the way the guards look at your daughter. Do you know how long she can hold her breath? Repeat after me. Exacto knife.
—Fuck you.
—Well, you kind of asked for it a little bit, don’t you think?
—I’ll—
—I know, I know. You’ll kill me if I hurt her. I don’t doubt for a minute that you mean it. Don’t worry. I was just messing with you. I would never hurt your daughter.
—How do I know you mean that?
—Because you know I don’t need to. I could give her a haircut, and you’d be in that robot asking for orders before I get to her bangs. Let’s talk about something else, OK? This is just depressing. Let’s do something constructive, like maybe saving your friend. To be honest, I’d much rather have him pilot Themis for us.
—What do you want me to do?
—That’s the right attitude! Thank you for asking. You see, our doctors, they won’t say it because they’re afraid of what’ll happen to them, but they have no idea how to save your friend right now—like none—and I’m thinking: Maybe he knows. Maybe he could save himself. Only he won’t talk to us. Either he can’t understand or he doesn’t want to, but I’m sure he’d like to talk to a friend.
—What makes you think I can talk to him?
—Really? Let me see. Hmmm, he was with you, inside Themis. It would make for a boring ride if he couldn’t talk to anyone … Oh, yes, you also spent NINE YEARS on his planet. Oh, and you’re a linguist. Like, that’s the one thing you actually trained for. What else? Hmmm. No. That’s it. That’s all I have.
—I meant what makes you think it’s even possible? They could communicate with something other than sound. They could use chemical reactions, pheromones, touch, telepathy, sign language. Even if they did use sounds, in order to communicate, you’d have to be able to make the sounds, and recognize them. They could have a very different articulatory system. They could have no larynx, two of them, something entirely different. Even with the same physiology, they could produce sounds we can’t replicate, or can’t hear. Some of their sounds could be ultrasounds to us. Some could be indistinguishable from one another. They could have a thousand different sounds where we only hear one. They could produce a dozen at the same time. There are so many ways this could not work. I can’t hear tone the right way in Mandarin, let alone reproduce it. I hear it backwards, up is down, down is up. That’s with humans. Imagine the odds on another planet with folks who walk like ostriches. Even with the sounds out of the way, what they express could be impossible for us to grasp. They might not use a logic similar to ours, they might not conceptualize things as we do.
—Wait, wait … How stupid of me! Duh! I completely forgot I asked Eva if she’d like to talk to him just before you came in. She’s with him right now. I’m such a scatterbrain. Seems I don’t need you to talk to him after all. But thank you so much for that little lesson just then. That was superinteresting. No, don’t make that face again! It really was! They seem close, Eva and Ekim. How long have they known each other? The whole nine years? Less than that?
—What difference does it make?
—Exactly! What’s the point in not telling me? I can just ask her, you know. I’d rather you tell me because the security protocols are a lot tighter with her, and I hate the paperwork. But it’s OK, you don’t have to. Do you know how many forms I have to fill out just to talk to her through a glass wall?
—I don’t understand. Why would things be any different with her? We all spent the same amount of time over there.
—I know! Right? I asked the same question when they put her inside that sealed room. Well, for starters, she has more alien DNA than just about anyone we’ve come across.
—That’s still just a tiny fraction of her genetics.
—Well, tiny fractions matter now. She’s an A5.
—What’s that mean?
—It means she’d have a real hard time getting a job. I’m an A1 and I can only make colonel. Most countries keep their A3s in camps. Anyway, that’s strike one. Your daughter, being more alien than most, also spent almost half her life on another planet. She was a baby for a few of the years she spent here, so, really, most of her life is over there. I’m gonna make a fool of myself again, but I’d be willing to bet that … she didn’t wanna leave! Yes? No? Anyway, strike two. Then, of course, there’s the whole dating an alien thing. You know, the same kind that killed one hundred million people here on Earth, the kind that destroyed Moscow.
—I thought you bombed Moscow yourself.
—Potato, po-tah-to. The point is she doesn’t inspire a lot of trust right now. I was glad when I found out she’s held on to some Earth customs—she gave me the finger the first time I saw her—but still, she speaks friggin’ alien.
—She’s as human as you are. We lived by ourselves. I raised her. Rose did. She was with us.
—See! That’s the spirit. Now I have something more positive than the finger thing to share with my boss. What else can you tell me? Come on! Anything! OK, tell me what happened when you landed on Esat Ekt—yeah, Rose told me. It’s a good name. What’d you do? Was anyone there to greet you? Did you just walk around aimlessly until you ran into people? Please?
—We didn’t do anything … We were waiting to die.
FILE NO. 1641 EE001
PARTY LOG—EVA REYES
Location: Inside Themis, EDC Headquarters, New York, New York
—This is Eva Reyes. We’re on board Themis, celebrating. I’m with my dad, Dr. Franklin, and General Govender. I … I don’t know what I’m supposed to say! Hey, Vincent?
[Yes, Eva?]
Why do I have to wear the headset?
[Because we’re recording this. Rose likes to record everything.]
I know that, but why me? Why can’t any of you wear it?
[Let’s see. I have a broken shoulder and a bent-up leg. Rose has a broken tibia.]
It’s a headset. It goes on your head.
[You can move around more than we can. Stop complaining, will you?]
The general could wear it.
[The general is slightly inebriated.]
{I heard that, Couture!}
[Sorry sir. I meant to say you’re drunk as a skunk.]
{It’s that damn champagne. Why can’t I get a real drink? And why is it so dark in here? I can barely see my glass!}
That’s the other thing I wanted to ask about. Why am I the only one drinking juice?
[So you can do the recording. Oh, that and you’re ten.]
Come on, Vincent! I just kicked some giant robot’s ass. I just want one glass of champagne.
[Technically, Rose kicked his ass—]
<Come here, Eva. I’ll give you a glass. A small one!> Thank you, Dr. Franklin.
<I told you to call me Rose.> I’m not sure I— <Vincent does it. If you don’t, I’ll start calling you Ms. Reyes.> OK, then, Rose. How does it feel?
<Champagne? It’s—>
No, I meant you were right. Your plan worked.
<I guess it did. Why are you making that face, General?> {Show the aliens that humans could be just as tough without them messing with our DNA, by shooting some green goo full of bacteria out of a keg—}
What are you saying, General?
{I’m saying … What was I saying?}
<The general was saying he didn’t think my plan had any chance of success.> Is that right, General?
{Not a chance in hell.}
Haha! What about you, Vincent? Did you think it would work?
[Me? I—]
<You thought it was stupid. Come on, Vincent! You can say it!> [No, Rose! I understood the logic behind it. I just wasn’t sure that, even if the bacteria worked, the aliens were gonna get the right message.]
<We don’t know that they did.> How can you say that, Dr. Franklin? They left, didn’t they!