Now Ron’s colors were a deep red blending into black. Phil gave up ignoring him and turned his face full on to the emperor’s rep. At that, his skin suddenly went from red to black to white. The counselor crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head to his superior.
That couldn’t be easy for the old iron head, considering how much younger Ron was, Kris thought. But Phil the counselor held her full attention as he opened his mouth and spoke.
Nelly waited a moment before she began to translate. “Our oldest and wisest counselor says in the highest of court language that, considering how much ill will and blood was spilt by the two opposing parties. And considering his personal responsibility for the success of the great and honorable mission the emperor has personally sent them on. And considering his, etc., etc., etc., that they don’t want to get killed on this mission, and there are a couple of more considerings of how small the embassy is and how important it is and stuff like that.
“Anyway, both of the advisors agreed that it was important enough to keep this mission a secret that they thought firing on the messenger pod was a good idea at the time. How were they to know that the, ah, there he goes using that word that I think means ‘monkey’ or some such, would react so viciously to their blowing something so small out of space. Them being Imperial Iteeche and all superior to all other things.” Nelly finished before the counselor did.
“Nelly, a translator is supposed to translate, not paraphrase,” Kris said.
“Trust me, when I print out the full text, you can scan it. It really was a blessing for me to cut it short and drop out all the ‘you scum, me master’ crap.”
Kris kept her face blank, but it was clear from the foot stomping and glancing about that the Iteeche had noticed that a long speech had gotten very short shrift from the translator. Ron, however, hadn’t turned his own translation device back on.
If she was going to say something, the sooner the better.
“Your Highness, may I answer this?” Colonel Cortez asked softly.
“If you promise not to start a war.”
“I shall endeavor to avoid such an outcome, My Princess.”
“Then have at it.”
The colonel stood. “Nelly, translate exactly what I say. No changes. No additions. No subtractions. You understand me.”
“Yes, sir,” the computer said, almost meekly.
“Whereas, we the advisors to Princess Kristine Anne Longknife do understand the importance of any meeting that renews full and open communication between our peoples, the humans and the Iteeche. Got that?”
“Translated word for word, sir.”
“And, whereas, we ourselves are on a mission of exploration. And, whereas, even as we met you we were carefully observing the boundaries of the Empire and human space. And, whereas we are only too aware of the risks of space travel and the risks of life and limb in space warfare. And whereas we counselors to said Princess Kristine Anne Longknife have been entrusted with the personal life and safety of her by our magnificent and benevolent King Raymond I, and do take that responsibility personally on our own honor and flesh and blood.”
“That’s a lot of ‘whereas’es,” Jack whispered.
“But he’s got it right so far,” Penny said under her breath.
“Shush,” Kris said softly.
The colonel ignored them and went on without missing a beat. “Therefore, let it be known that we would never have fired upon an Iteeche vessel or any vehicle issuing from such a vessel. Such an action is usually considered an act of war and could only harm the harmony and peace between our separate, hostile, and fearful people. And in a similar vein, the destruction of a messenger pod would be a really stupid idea, considering that two human vessels had already departed the solar system we were in and will be messaging a report immediately once they are out of the system that an Iteeche vessel has been spotted here and is even now in discussions with Princess Kristine Anne Longknife.”
Now Colonel Cortez leaned forward, rested both hands on the table, and glared at the senior green and white. “And while we do not chop people’s heads off for talking with our Kris, there is no doubt that her great-grandfather will be wondering why he is getting messages from other ships that she’s talking with Iteeche and he hasn’t heard from her himself.”
With that, he sat down, folded his arms across his chest, and continued to glare at Phil.
Kris had to stop herself from nodding agreement. She thought of shaking her head, then gave that up as a bad idea and settled for saying, “I agree with every word he said.”
After a long pause, Ron took four steps back from the table. His four advisors, the Navy types and the green and whites, gathered in a half huddle around him. Words flew fast, but in low voices. Nelly, you GETTING any of This?
I HEARD a couple of WHAT I Take for “I TOLD you so.” The Green AND WHITES are DEFENDING THEMSELVES WITH “How COULD we HAVE known?” AND “Do you really BELIEVE The Monkeys?” The NAVY TYPES are usinG The WORD “HUMAN” for us, THOUGH They are MANGLING The PRONUNCIATION. Ron is PRETTY Much KEEPING QUIET.
Kris had noticed that. Then, she had also left the talking to her staff. It was better to let them take the risks; she could always step in and damp down any problem they started. Maybe Ron wasn’t so bad at this.
Of course, when you’ve got an advisor who wants to shoot first and explain later, maybe not so good.
Does IT SOUND To you like The NAVY CAPTAINS weren’T The ones THAT CAME up WITH The IDEA of SHOOTING The MESSENGER POD?
IT sure Does, Kris.
Interesting, that.
Finally, Ron stepped back up to the table and his advisors returned to their places. Nothing happened for a moment. Then Ron started talking, and Nelly quickly translated for him.
“My wise and learned advisors tell me that an August Imperial Representative does not do what I am about to do. Then again, it has been a long time since an Imperial Representative talked to a human. Yeah, he said human, Kris,” Nelly interjected before hurrying on. “So I am going to say that if I had it to do over again, I would not fire on your pod. It was a mistake.”
“I accept your apology,” Kris said.
“Our words would be sincere regrets. But they are rarely sincere,” Ron said with a sidewise glance at his senior counselor. He shied away from his young superior.
“We’d probably say the same thing and mean it just as little. Can we start our talks over again?” Kris asked.
“I would hope that we can.”
“Can I send a messenger pod to my great-grandfather, King Raymond, telling him of this meeting and your request for a meeting with him.”
“I hope you will.” Beside Ron, Phil the counselor was as white as Kris’s uniform. She hoped the Iteeche weren’t into seppuku or other forms of ritual suicide, because Phil looked to be in line for that.
Now it was Kris’s turn to get the right message across to her team in front of a potentially hostile audience. She turned to Penny. “Nelly, translate what I say for the Iteeche. Lieutenant Penelope Lien Pasley”—the Iteeche seemed into long names; Kris could do that—“please have Captain Drago of the Wasp reload all the data on the destroyed messenger pod and launch another. Add to that this update.
“To King Raymond I, I, Princess Kristine Anne Longknife, second born of Prime Minister William Longknife of Wardhaven, am now in discussions with”—Help Me OUT here, Nelly—“Ron’sum’Pin’sum’We qu Chap’sum’We, chosen of Chooser Roth’sum’We’sum’Quin qu Chap’sum’We. He is known unto you as an Imperial Representative to the negotiations that resulted in the treaty between all humanity and the Iteeche Empire at the Orange Nebula. Ron, to shorten matters up a bit, has been sent by your old friend Roth to talk with you. I don’t know why. I will talk more with him about that, but I want you to hear this first from me and not some other source. More to follow as I find out what’s going on. Your loving great-granddaughter, Kris.”