The weather in the Cape that night was horrid. The rain poured down, bathing the concrete, soaking the landing strip and the umbrellas of the group of men in black suits and sunglasses who stood there next to a small fleet of black SUVs drenching the various news crews and reporters who stood on the other side of the metal barricades from the agents, all waiting. Waiting to greet their visitors. A sleek, black matte, rectangular craft moves through the soaked air. And inside, are the visitors. The low light of their consoles barely illuminates their feline faces. They’re not human.
"We are nearing our destination Representative." says an officer.
"Good.” says a female voice, the owner of which is sitting near the back of the craft, in the command chair, her cat-like ears bent down and back.
“You know, I’ve always dreamed of a moment like this, but I never imagined I’d ever be the one sitting in this seat.” There’s no reply. Back to business now, she commands,
“Keep broadcasting our position to local air traffic control. We need this to go smoothly, so we need to be as non-threatening as possible.” she orders, and then quips. “The cheapskates back home couldn’t be bothered to spend the credits to give us something better, so we’re stuck with this flying bucket.” She continues more seriously,
“We’re unarmed, with minimal defensive shielding and maneuverability, and nonexistent warping capabilities. If we mess this up and things go bad, we're dead and we've started another interplanetary, intergalactic war."
There's a pause. "And that's bad." Another pause.
"Well let's just be glad they gave us some stealth capabilities. Not that we can use them right now,” she says with a sigh. Back to business now, she commands, “Ok, status report. What's our ETA? Do they still have their own ‘stealth’ fighters on us? And most importantly, are their news-cameras live and in position?" An officer responds,
"ETA 5 minutes, we remain escorted, and their cameras are live and broadcasting worldwide, Representative." With growing confidence and bravado, she tells her crew,
"Ok, good. Begin preparations for contact. Prepare to land and disembark.” She pauses, and then adds, “We need-- this needs to go smoothly, so everyone had better be on their best behavior.” She pauses again, and then says softly mostly to herself, “This is it. Let's go make some diplomatic history. No pressure.”
The craft landed vertically, the landing gear’s shocks compressing as gravity set in. A hatch opened on the side of the ship, and a set of steps lowers down to the ground. The first out of the craft is the Representative herself, holding her arm in front of her face to shield from the rain. She is followed by a group of the officers, wearing their grey flight suit and visored helmets. From the ranks of the men in black, who had been there waiting, stepped forward one, with a blond flat-top.
“Representative Pol,” he addressed her, presenting her with a spare umbrella. She accepted the offering, and deployed it almost immediately.
“We have our rides here to take us to our flight,” he continued. “We trust that we have enough room for all of your personnel. We also have a hanger here on site for the storage of your shuttle.”
“Thank you,” said Pol, pausing before continuing on. “We will be leaving some of our personnel here on our shuttle.”
“Of course,” said the flat-topped agent, then turning back to motion to the others to begin opening the doors to the SUVs. “Now, if you and your personnel are ready, we may begin our departure.”
The chair was uncomfortable. It was a nice chair. The cream seat and backing were plush, but that did not change the fact these seats weren’t designed with tails in mind. She couldn’t really sit back all the way without crushing her tail, which forced her sit up straight. This was already an exhausting experience, and this only added to it. If not for the fur on her face, everyone there could probably tell that she was sweating. She could tell that everyone there, from the office assistants to the camera crews with their microphones, were all looking at her, bewildered by what to them was her novel, feline appearance. To them, she looked something like a cat in a green dress. Their stares burned on her like lasers. She could hear them whispering about her. They were talking about how surreal it was to see a real life alien. Some of them were saying that she looked pretty in her green dress. Without her fur, they might have seen her blush bashfully. She had to consciously keep her ears from turning down. She had to keep herself composed. She was, after all, the ambassador of her entire planet, so she had to keep up appearances. This was getting harder to do each minute that she was kept waiting here in what they called The Oval Office for their President to make their way there so that they could finally begin their first televised dialogue.
“What do you mean you’re retiring?” she asked, stunned. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing from the old man.
“I mean that I’m retiring from my position as Head Ambassador. It’s as simple as that,” rasped the old man, his fur greying and his whiskers becoming wiry. “I’m not as young as I once was, and after all my years of service, it’s time for me to step down and let someone younger take my place.”
“But, Boss, who could replace you, after all this time?”
“You, my dear,” he told her, with straight face.
“Me!?” She couldn’t believe her own ears.
“Yes, Pol, you,” he restated, taking on an almost whimsical grin. “And you needn’t call me ‘Boss’ anymore; ‘Dae’ will suffice.
In all my time in this position,” he continued, “I’ve yet to have an understudy whom I felt could properly follow in my path. Some, were far too ambitious to be diplomat, and would put themselves ahead of their work. Others lacked the resolve needed for the strenuous task of diplomacy, and others still simply lacked the level of careful tact that is so vital for this work. But you have both the skills and temperament to fill the void that I will leave in my stead. And that is why, as my final act as Ambassador, I am appointing you, as my successor.”
As she stood there, she stared out of her office’s window at the soaring metropolis, thinking about the position she found herself in, all sorts of vehicles of every shape and size, bustling through the skies at serenely hurried pace. If she weren’t so preoccupied, she may have marveled at the immenseness of the city she lived in. It was such a huge place, and the shining towers seemed to touch the sky. In truth, many of them probably did.
But Dae’s retirement could hardly have come at a worse time. This was just ahead of the planned diplomatic mission to the recently discovered inhabited planet, something that had been years in the making. She had already spent days on end learning the dominant language in preparation of accompanying Ambassador Dae there, but not to be the Representative herself.
“I can’t do this,” she told herself. “I’m not ready for this. Why did he have to appoint me as his successor?” Her ears tilted downwards, and she looked down at the floor.
“I can’t do this,” she repeated, lifting her head up, “but I have to do this. This is what I’ve trained for. This is what they were prepping me for, all along. This is what I always wanted to do; to see new worlds, and forge new bonds between them and ours. I’m just worried that I’ll mess things up, and that I’m not good enough to do this.” She went and slumped into the ergonomically designed chair at her desk, and sighed. She had a lot of work ahead of her. She decided to write a letter to her cousin.
Dear Pheo,
I wanted to let you know first that I've been put up for a promotion. My boss is retiring, and he's appointed me to take over once he leaves. I felt deeply honored, but I don't know if I'm really ready to take on that much responsibility. I might not be so worried if it wasn't for me having to take over the diplomatic mission that has been in the works for years now. You know the one, right? To that planet that our probe discovered? The one the natives call Earth? I know that I've worked hard on this project, and so has everyone else at my work, but now I'm the one who makes or breaks the whole thing. And now everyone is going to be looking to me for answers, and you know how much I hate being in the spotlight. I was always happy to be an eternal understudy, but now I'm being forced into this. How could I say no? My boss told me he was waiting for the right successor to retire, and that he believes that I'm up to the task of filling his shoes. But how can I live up to the role of the great Ambassador Dae, the Feildian who handled our own Fēlgat’s integration into the Collective? I know that this mission to Earth is important, and that this is my chance to prove myself. I know that this is my chance to do something extraordinary, but I'm afraid that I'm not good enough to take over such a huge responsibility. But I suppose that it's too early to start second guessing myself now, isn't it. I apologize for this winding message, but writing to you at times like this has always helped me figure out where I need to go.
Your cousin,
Pol
After what feels like an eternity, their President Landem, with greying hair on the top of her head, not too unlike her old boss, finally enters the room. It’s funny that I have had to wait so long, since this is their office, she mused to herself. She realizes that she had begun to slouch, and quickly straightens herself up. The televised talks are about to begin shortly, so she must be ready. This is a momentous occasion. These talks would pave the way for cultural and technological exchange between worlds, as well as open up a whole new market for industry back home. In fact, one of the biggest issues that would be discussed in all this would be establishing trade agreements, especially ahead of any other planets in the Collective, which would be very advantageous to her own recently joined world of Fēlgat. While the fate of two worlds may not hang in the balance, her personal pride is on the line in this entire endeavor, and more than that, her boss put his faith in her to handle this on her own, and she couldn’t bear to let him down.
“And we are live in three, two, one.” The camera is focused on the President.
“Hello, my fellow Americans,” says the President, “and hello to the world. Today, I have the immense honor to confirm to you that SETI has indeed received a response, and that an age old question has been answered. We are not alone in the universe.” They pause for dramatic effect.
“What’s more,” they continue, “I have the further honor to be here with Representative Pol, of the Feildian people, representing the peoples of the planet Fēlgat, and the Fēlgatian Federation, who have seen fit to initiate this First Contact with us.”
The camera pans out to include Pol in the shot.
“Representative,” says the President, turning to look her in the eyes, “on behalf of the American people, and the people of this world, let me say, thank you for joining us here today for these preliminary discussions.”
“Thank you, Madam President,” she says, glancing briefly into the camera. “I am honored to be here as well, to represent the people of my home world to yours. And I thank you for your graciousness and hospitality.” She holds her tail on her lap. These formalities were proving to be possibly more stressful than the actually discussions.
“Now, Representative,” starts the President, looking directly at her with a smiling face that meant business, “I believe that before we continue, and to help to put people’s minds at ease, we should address the question that must be on everyone’s mind; why have your people chosen to initiate contact with the people of this planet?”
“Please, call me Pol,” she started with. This was a trick that her boss had often used to help ease tensions and set a friendly tone. “Madam President, we have come here wishing to extend the offer of cultural and technological exchange, as well as the opening of trade between our worlds.” She made a point to leave out the bit about doing so ahead of the rest of the Collective.
“Please then, Landem is fine.,” says President Landem. “Now then, another question that many may be wondering, is how is it that we can understand what you’re saying, and the other way around? Some sort of universal translator?” Pol laughs a little at this.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she says, giving a slight feline grin. “I am speaking English, just as you are. I learned it the hard way, by studying the language. A viable universal translator has proven, eh, elusive. Any translators we would use would be, prone to mistakes, and would be inconvenient.”
“Now, my next question is a bit more serious,” Landem opens, leaning forward in a sort of power pose, looking Pol head on. “Why did you choose to initiate this contact with our nation solely, as opposed to through the United Nations, what many would consider our de facto world governmental body?”
“A fair question,” Pol replies, looking Landem straight back in the eyes. This would be point that would have to be handled with tact.
“When our probe discovered your planet,” she continues, “through much tinkering, we were able to connect it to your Internet. It was through this connection that we were able to learn your languages. We were also able to learn much of your world’s history. We found that, in matters of such a global scale, when your nation participated, other nations would often follow. Because of this history, it was decided that it would be best to establish initial ties with you nation first, before extending relations to the rest of the world.” They needed to get this nation on board before extending diplomacy to their global governing body, in order to ensure that the other powerful nations wouldn’t oppose it, so as not to fall behind. It was a clever bit of political subterfuge, that she actually planned herself. She felt rather proud about that.
“I see,” says Landem, steely eyed. “So then the United States, going forward, will not necessarily be receiving special treatment from the Federation?”
“While we do not plan to become intrinsically involved in your global politics,” Pol began slowly, choosing her words carefully, “your nation will maintain a special relationship with our world thanks to this day, and will likely be the first to enjoy the benefits of trade.” Landem smiled at the last bit.
“Well that’s good to hear.” Landem was visibly please with that prospect. “My next question is, how did you manage to reach our planet? I’m assuming some sort of faster-than-light travel is involved?”
“Now, now,” Pol teases. This was her chance to play coy. She couldn't reveal their full hand just yet, after all. “While we have every intention of share that sort of information, we can discuss those sorts of things after we are able to solidify our relations.”
“I suppose you have to keep some cards in your hand,” says Landem. “We’ll keep that in mind. Now, we are almost out of time for today, so I have one final question for you for this evening. Is there anything that you would like to tell the people of Earth directly?”
“Yes,” she says, “there is.” Addressing the populus. She had practiced this speech ahead of time, in anticipation of this opportunity.
“Long ago,” she begins, “before I was born, the people of my home planet were contacted by peoples from beyond their world, and this event expanded their horizons. It is in this spirit, that we come to you, to pay forward the opportunities afforded to us by that chance meeting. I am aware of your cinematic cliché, but truly, we come in peace. It is our hope, my hope, that our peoples may both benefit from our chance meeting. Since I was young, this is what I have always wanted to do; to go to new worlds and forge new bonds. May the Light guide our way. Thank you.”
As the news crews and reporters filtered out, she couldn’t help but glow with pride. She had done it. She survived the first talk. She hoped that her cousin Pheo was watching this. She hoped her old boss Dae was watching. There was still so much more to do still, but this was such an important first step, and she felt that she had done her old boss proud. Thanks for believing in me, Boss.
"Early polls are coming in response to President Landen's initial diplomatic discussion with the alien diplomat and the response is mixed. While some felt she handled this initial talk well, with respondents applauding her calm demeanour, others felt that the President wasn't forceful enough with her questioning of Representative Pol, of the Fēlgatian Federation, showing timidness on the part of the United States. However, on the other side of these talks is the Representative Pol, and here's what some of our political analysts have to say regarding her."
"Now, with Representative Pol, she was actually surprisingly, light-hearted, all things considered. If you look carefully though at her when she's not the one talking, she has a more nervous, wide eyed look about her. Now with them being an alien I can't exactly say I'm an expert, but that seems to tell me that our interstellar ambassador might be green in more than her fur color."
Pol turns off the news report. 'Scat.' she thought to herself, 'was it really that obvious? And here I was thinking that I had done so well.'
Dopo aver passato due settimane intense di stage, trascorse all’Accademia della Pubblicità – Touch Lab, a Fucecchio, dopo aver appreso, assimilato, simulato una spugna vogliosa di sapere, è arrivato Venerdì 21 Febbraio 2014.
Una mostra, una serie di ”schifezze” di alcuni ragazzi come me, che frequentano il Liceo Artistico Virgilio di Empoli.
Appassionati dal creare, mostrare, sperimentare, spinti…
