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Several hours later, Urle left the bridge.
There had been no need for him to stand still on the bridge while working; the desk in Brooks’s – he would not yet think of it as his – office would have been the more proper location.
But he worked fine anywhere. His knees could literally be locked if he wished, to allow him to stand with no effort. He was more capable working with digital hands in his own virtual environment than with even his mechanical hands.
And no physical action could ever surpass the speed of his thought.
He might not be Dr. Y, he likely would never approach that until he became purely digital, but his computational power was still formidable.
He’d looked over every report, approved or rejected every bit of paperwork, submitted them to all relevant parties, handed out twelve accolades to various personnel in seven departments, and then checked in on Hannah and Persis via remote cameras. They seemed to be quite involved in the gardening project their class had begun a month earlier.
He was still on-duty, and he decided to head to Brooks’s office, now that he actually had no more work to do. He’d made his point of being present on the bridge, and he would still be only a message away.
As he left the bridge, he received a notification that surprised him; Ambassador N’Keeea had been passed through security to the pre-bridge.
That in itself was not surprising; as an Ambassador, he would be able to access certain areas beyond the norm, when under official business. Not the bridge, not without special permission from the Captain, but this far, yes.
He thought it was the first time that N’Keeea had used such clearances since boarding their ship, however. If anything, the being had been completely quiet and kept to himself all this time.
His system informed him that it was indeed the first time, and further that N’Keeea’s path seemed to be taking him towards the Captain’s office, with an 87% certainty.
Picking up his pace, Urle decided to be ready when he arrived. His system predicted he had time to spare.
It proved to be correct. He had sat in the chair behind the desk for all of 34 seconds when the chime came for a requested entry.
All the data on the caller confirmed it was N’Keeea.
“Enter,” Urle said. The door opened for him.
The Hev Ambassador was slightly chubbier than most Hev, a sign that he came from a wealthy clan – or at least was accorded luxury in his home clan.
He was also short, even for a Hev, though most of his people were shorter than humans.
His face was rodent-like, the plates that ran down his back of a more subtle nature than many of his kind. Most Hev reminded humans of a humanoid rat, but N’Keeea reminded Urle more of a hamster.
He’d heard of systems, human and other species, that were suspicious of Hev. And some clans indeed seemed to have no scruples when it came to lying and cheating. But he rejected that idea; Hev varied more than any other species he’d heard of in temperament and outlook.
“Greetings, Acting-Captain Urle,” N’Keeea said, with a bow. “Do you have time for me to speak with you?”
Urle did, but he did not like the being simply coming here unannounced. It was not the politeness – though certain rules and precedents should be followed in diplomatic encounters – but that he was unprepared for the interview. He would have liked to review everything they had on N’Keeea, his clan, the Hev in general, and whatever else he could think of that was relevant.
“Briefly, Ambassador. Apologies, but I am quite busy.”
“Of course, of course,” the Ambassador replied. “I will make my inquiries short, then.”
Urle nodded, and gestured placatingly, which he hoped N’Keeea’s system would recognize. “In the future, it would help if you called and made an appointment. Then we could schedule the time you needed.”
“I see – yes, I will do that in the future, Acting-Captain.” The Hev paused, still standing in the doorway, and finally stepped in just enough for the door to close behind him.
“Have a seat,” Urle said, gesturing. He then frantically checked his knowledge database, to make sure that wasn’t incredibly rude to a Hev.
But the Hev were so disunited in culture that he found about a dozen conflicting versions of proper chair invitation etiquette, and the archive noted that it was incomplete.
Ambassador N’Keeea did not seem bothered, anyway. “Oh, no, you need not concern yourself with my comfort, Acting-Captain. I thought we might discuss a few things of the most trivial importance.”
It seemed odd for him to be playing down his own matters as trivial, but Urle nodded. “Very well.”
“The cuisine on your ship is quite good. It is not tailored towards my kind, but I find myself with ample options for dining nonetheless,” N’Keeea said.
That really got Urle confused. “Ah . . . well, I am glad to hear it. We do typically keep the patterns for food for most known species in our memory drives, to be sure we can accomodate any guest.”
“Yes . . . Very wise,” N’Keeea replied. “Now, I suppose there is the matter of my bill.”
“Your bill?” Urle echoed. How could they owe the being money? He was about to ask that when N’Keeea continued.
“Yes, I am in your debt for transport to your home system,” N’Keeea said.
“You need not pay us for that,” Urle replied.
“I insist,” N’Keeea said.
“Truly,” Urle told him. “We don’t have a running rate or way to calculate that. It’s just a service we extended to you.”
The being had an odd expression, and Urle’s system tentatively identified it as suspicion.
“I see,” the Ambassador replied, his tone giving away nothing.
A silence fell again.
Urle finally ventured; “If you’d like, I could summon an Ambassador from Earth, if you wished to speak about more diplomatic issues . . .”
The Hev immediately waved it away. “Oh, no that is entirely unnecessary. Do not trouble yourself.”
“Very well,” Urle replied. He was not sure what exactly was occurring. “Is there anything else I can do for you, then?”
“I would not want to trouble you, Acting-Captain,” the Hev replied.
Urle nodded, but said nothing else. N’Keeea likewise fell silent.
They simply stared at each other for an awkwardly long time.
Finally the Hev spoke again. “Well, perhaps that will be all for now, Acting-Captain.”
Urle felt that he’d missed something important, but he truly did not know how far he should push this. He was checking records of contact with Hev, looking for a hint, any clue – but he was finding nothing.
“Very well, then,” he finally said. “Good day, Ambassador.”
Other Terrestrial 