On the opposite side of the room was… Furfeg. Giymuy hadn’t been kidding when she’d described him as large. Xiù had thought the Locayl were big (Ayma had explained that Gaoians were relatively tiny compared to most sapient species, and by extension so were humans) but this species topped them by nearly a metre. He was a four-legged mountain of brown fur, straddling a chair which had smoothed itself out into a bench that held his mass without apparent strain. A pair of arms with three-fingered hands rested comfortably across his torso, as wide across as a queen-sized bed. He reminded Xiù of Snuffleupagus for some reason… though he lacked the elephant-like trunk, he had long, floppy ears and shaggy fur. His eyes were huge and blue, located closer to the sides of his head than a human’s or Gaoian’s, and Xiù remembered what Giymuy had said about his species being herbivores.
He stood as she entered, but didn’t approach her as she stared, wide-eyed. She noticed that he lacked fur along a strip on each of his sides, and the skin beneath glowed colours, turning a light blue as he looked at her.
The large creature bobbed his head toward her. “Greetings, Miss Chang,” he said in a deep, masculine voice, startling her. “I am Furfeg. Pleased to meet you.”
She stared at it – him – for long seconds, her jaw hanging open. “You speak English!” she finally blurted.
He looked back at her, and the softly glowing lines along his sides pulsed. “No, you hear English,” he said, and she heard the amusement in his voice. “That is the name of the principal language on your world, yes? The… `language of business’, I believe you term it?”
“Y-yes… but how?”
He tapped the side of his overlarge head, and she realized she could see small tracings there under his fur… cybernetics of some sort. “High-end language translation implant… it doesn’t require pairing with an implant in the sapient you’d like to converse with. Very handy in my line of work.”
“What work is that?”
“Fundamentally? I’m a diplomat. Assigned here as part of the Interspecies Dominion’s efforts to entice Gao into joining… not just provisionally, but as a full standing member. Efforts that were very much on the cusp of success. Until, as it happens, this world gained a new member, one who is very much not Gaoian.” At her confused look, his eyes flickered toward the closed doors. “I take it the Mother-Supreme did not explain my reasons for wishing to meet you?”
Xiù laced her fingers together to keep them from fidgeting. “N-no, she just said it was important.”
“Ah.” That great shaggy head bobbed back and forth, and she assumed it was his equivalent of a nod. “Then, Miss Chang – `miss’ is the appropriate honorific, is it not? – I’ll explain it plainly: the government of Gao and its single colony have agreed to join the Dominion as a full, voting member.” He waved one arm, including the entire world in the gesture. “This agreement has been a long time in coming, and the negotiations have been some of the most challenging of my career. The Gaoians are very clever, and aren’t to be tricked. That cunning is why we seek them, and in return they’ll gain a number of trade advantages as well as mutual defense agreements.”
“That sounds good,” she said. “But… where do I come in?”
“Ah… the Gaoians have added one small, last-minute proviso to the agreement. Namely, that as part of the deal the Dominion is either to supply Gao with the location of your homeworld and the right to deliver you there, or we are to transport you there ourselves. They’ve made it very clear that they aren’t willing to negotiate on that point.”
Her heart flew. “Can you? Bring me home?”
He hesitated. “No.”
Her hopes crashed back into the ground. “W-what? But you just said the Gaoians won’t negotiate on that!”
“Yes. And likewise, I cannot negotiate, either. Bringing you home is not within my power. So we are at an impasse… one only you can resolve.”
Her eyes began to burn. “But why? Why can’t you take me home? You know where it is… the Corti know where it is! If they can steal me on a lark then why can’t you bring me back?”
“There has been an… incident. Are you familiar with the species we call Hunters?”
Xiù hesitated, fighting back tears. “Y-yes… there’s been some mention of them. They sound like… interstellar boogeymen? They attack without warning and kidnap people?”
“They harvest people,” he corrected grimly. “Though if the translator is processing `boogeymen’ correctly then yes, that’s a good descriptor. They consume other sapient beings. We are all herd animals to them, and though we know little about them, we know that their entire society – from their social status to perhaps even their procreation – is dependent on their hunts. They strike without warning, and the more audacious the target the more they seem to like it.”
Xiù shuddered, thinking of a James Cameron movie. Then she realized: “They attacked Earth?”
His head bobbed again. “Yes. Near the same area where you were taken. In fact, we believe the Hunters may have simply followed the energy traces of the ship that took you, but instead found the more tempting target of a well-populated, undefended world.”
“What happened?”
“It was a slaughter.” As her face paled, he held up a limb. “Of the Hunters.”
“What?” she said disbelievingly.
“Oh, yes, I’ve seen the footage myself. In fact, it seems to have somehow leaked out onto the interplanetary data-network,” he grumbled, and the strips along his sides tinted a pale red which then turned a soft blue. “A cluster of Hunters – the most feared species current extant in the galaxy – attacked a human sporting event… hockey, I believe you call it. They assaulted with their heavy pulse guns, your people replied with wooden sticks. When it was all done there was not a single human fatality and the Hunters were smeared everywhere. Then the audience complained that the ice surface was ruined and they couldn’t continue the game.”
She could only stare. “Well… my people take hockey pretty seriously.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His flanks rippled blue, and the translator filled his tone with humour. “But now I hope you see the problem: the humans now have irrefutable proof not just of alien life, but of the existence of a practical means of travelling the stars. And they know that some of the life among those stars is malicious. The eyes of your world are aimed upward now, and your people are likely fingering their weapons as they watch.”
“Then…. then you need me!” She held her hands toward him. “I can talk to them for you! I can explain to them that the Hunters aren’t part of your society, that you don’t mean any harm! Let me help!”
Her hopes were dashed again as his flanks rippled black and grey, and he shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” The translator had made his voice solemn.
“What? What does that mean?” Her stomach had dropped to her feet and was currently congealing into lead in the vicinity of her toes. “What have you done?” she rasped.
He held up a limb. “No one has been harmed, nor will they be,” he explained. “But your world has been placed under quarantine. An interdiction field has been installed… a force field, surrounding your star system, preventing anything from entering or exiting.”
“What! Why?”
The translator made the sound of a sigh. “Because the galaxy is not ready for you.”
“Not ready for us? Or do you mean we’re not ready for it?” she hissed between her teeth, sounding like Myun when she was angry.
“Either. Both. Look at your hands.” Xiù blinked at the non-sequitor, but glanced down – her hands had clenched into fists in her shock and anger. “The ignorant would look at us and assume that I am physically superior. Yet, if I tried to strike you, I’d only end up hurting myself. In comparison you could shatter my bones with little effort, and it would take weapons normally used against armored vehicles to harm you. Your people move faster, hit harder, and can take more damage than any species the galaxy has seen, including the `boogeymen’ known as the Hunters. In some ways you even think faster, your neural pathways optimized for defense… and attack.
“Then there’s those organisms living inside you. If not for the Corti suppressor in your neck, Gao might very well be a plague-world already.” He gestured helplessly. “You – your people – are deadly in a way we’ve never seen before, and you come from a world where that deadliness was needed.”
The big alien leaned back in his seat, releasing another sigh. “When this subject came up at the Galactic Council, I made a point of researching your species. I have seen much of your culture, your artistic and technological output, and it is amazing. You may be technologically inferior, but the competitiveness your world has forced into you has let you reach amazing highs… and terrifying lows. It is those lows that ignite fear across the galaxy.”
“But we haven’t done anything yet! You can’t accuse us of being evil while you have the Corti snatching people away and experimenting on them, others killing for a paycheque, and Hunters eating people! Why are we worse than them?”
“You’re not. But you could be.” His voice was sorrowful. “I’m very sorry. Had the Corti left well enough alone, had the Hunters not been so arrogant… the situation might have been very different by the time your people had developed faster-than-light travel naturally. But that isn’t the situation we have.”
She looked at him, too shocked to even form words. It wasn’t until she realized that her flat stare was making him afraid that she looked down. “So we’re tried, convicted, and imprisoned forever… for having potential!” She was suddenly furious. “Gao was right to think twice about joining you! Nǐmen quándōu shì dǎnxiǎoguǐ!”
She didn’t know if his translator understood the Mandarin, but he flinched from her tone alone. She ignored him, the anger rushing out of her as quickly as it had came; she moved over to sit on a chair that rose out of the floor and sized itself for a Gaoian, its best guess at what she would need. She rested her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands.
Furfeg’s mouth opened, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the door bursting open and Ayma storming in, the Mother-Supreme following at a more measured pace behind her. “Xiù! You were shouting! What happened?” The Gaoian Mother glared at the big alien.
Xiù startled, surprised to hear perfect English coming from Ayma… apparently Furfeg’s translator worked for everyone in the vicinity. I could have been speaking properly to the people who’d taken me in… but they wouldn’t even let me have that!
“Furfeg, when you had me invite Xiù here, you lead me to believe that it would be to tell her something positive,” Giymuy said. She never raised her voice, but her disapproval was like a physical force, and even an alien three times her size quailed in the face of it.
“Unfortunately not. But she deserved to hear it from me.”
“What? What did you tell her?” Ayma growled.
“They’ve… walled off Earth. My homeworld,” Xiù answered for him.
Ayma seemed surprised to hear Xiù sound perfectly intelligible, but wasn’t to be distracted. “What? How?”
“An experimental device, essentially a system-encompassing energy barrier,” Furfeg clarified. “It was installed several cycles ago.”
Even Giymuy seemed taken aback. “That is far more than a quarantine, Furfeg! Such measures are ridiculous… when did the Council decide on this?”
He shook his head. “There was no debate. The action was taken unilaterally by the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun Confederacy. The other members… simply did not oppose.”
“Abomination,” Giymuy spit. The Mother-Supreme was Xiù’s own mother dialed up to eleven, she decided. “Is this what you would have Gao participate in, Furfeg? Would you have us nod our heads as you create more prison worlds? I told you the treaty would depend on helping Xiù!”
“Actually, I believe your exact words were that it would ‘depend on Xiù’, Mother-Supreme. I reviewed the translator several times. I interpreted that to mean that the treaty was subject to her approval, regardless of anything else.”
Xiù growled. “You’re not a diplomat, you’re a lawyer.”
“Perhaps. The two only differ in scale.”
“You really expect me to advise them to agree to join you? After what you’ve done?”
“Yes,” he stated, and his colours turned black, implacable. He took a step toward her, his need to convince her overcoming his natural fear of her as an unstoppable predator. “Neither one of us can do anything to help your homeworld for the moment. But you can help Gao. The predatory species of the galaxy see them as prey because they are unaligned. Once they join, attacking the Gaoians will be tantamount to attacking the Dominion, and even the Corti will hesitate.”
“Pardon me if I don’t see a whole lot of potential bravery in the Dominion!”
He bobbed his head, accepting the rebuke. “Perhaps. But anything is more than nothing, which is more than they have now.”
“You’re trying to blackmail her,” Ayma snapped. “Let’s go, the air in here is bad-”
“Mother Ayma,” Giymuy said. Her voice was calm, without a hint of censure, but Ayma’s muzzle snapped shut. The elder Gaoian turned to Xiù. “Xiù, what do you think we should do?”
She stared back, wide-eyed. “M-me? What does it matter what I think? You’re the Mother-Supreme!”
“Yes,” Giymuy replied calmly, “and you’re one of my Sisters. We stand together, Xiù, like the Clan of Females always has.”
Xiù glanced, near panic, at the three aliens who were all staring at her expectantly. Had they really just told her to decide the fate of an entire planet?
“The choice is in your hands, Miss Chang,” Furfeg said. Damn him!
She wanted to tell him “cào nǐ mā”… not that he’d understand it. He might not even have a mother. Ayma was right… he was emotionally blackmailing her. She didn’t owe him a damned thing.
But she did owe the Gaoians. The only reason to say no would be to spite him. Spite him… and prove him right.
“You should join them,” she said, nearly a whisper.
Ayma squeezed her shoulder and made a quiet keening noise. “Xiù…”
Xiù looked up toward Giymuy. “You’re still growing. Because you’re not aligned with anyone, you’re alone, and the Corti feel brave enough to snatch your ships travelling between your own worlds because of it.” She cast a hostile look over at Furfeg. “I don’t know how much they can help. I don’t think you can count on them at all! But if joining them makes the Corti, or the Locayl, or anyone think twice about hurting Myun or any other cub… it’s what you should do.”
“This is not right for you,” Giymuy said.
“No,” she replied. “But it’s right for Gao.”
Giymuy looked back at her, and she saw the grim resignation there. The Mother-Supreme nodded. “Very well,” she said. She turned to the Guvnuragnaguvendrugun. “The Clan of Females of Gao will no longer oppose the acceptance of the treaty with the Interspecies Dominion, Furfeg. We’ll skip the normal diplomatic flowery prose and acknowledge that for all intents and purposes the deal is done.”
Furfeg nodded, his flanks glowing a soft purple, but Giymuy wasn’t finished. “Be aware, however: we will be using our newfound clout within the Dominion to address this miscarriage of justice. Be certain of that.”
The glow of his flanks did not fade one bit. “Mother-Supreme, I hope for it.” His head turned to Xiù, who sat on the nearby bench, her arms wrapped around her. “Thank you, Miss Chang. It is actions like what you have demonstrated here that will convince my brethren of the foolishness of their actions.” He turned to gather up his data tablet.
“Mister Furfeg?” He looked back, meeting Xiù’s gaze. Her eyes were red, but she didn’t cry… that would happen later, once she was alone. “Is it possible to send a signal to Earth?”
He hesitated, his colours turning a dark blue spotted with white. “The quarantine extends to communications.”
She stared back at him. “My family… they have no idea what happened to me. They don’t even have the privilege of thinking I’m dead.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and she had no idea what the rainbow of colours running across his sides could mean. “I will make no promises,” he finally said. “But… I’ll see what I can do.” She nodded, knowing it was the best she could get.
The big alien left, heading to the spaceport and the ship that would take him to his superiors, the good news stored on his tablet. With him gone Xiù was back to needing to speak Gaori… as she expected she’d have to for a very long time. But for the moment she didn’t want to speak at all. Ayma seemed to sense her need, her paw gently stroking her hair, petting her the way she would a distraught cub.