New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!
Tred let out a soft breath as the dignitaries left. He got very nervous when important people were around. It felt like his normal clumsiness was increased a dozen times over, and he had suffered many nightmares of ruining some sort of vital diplomatic event. Getting in trouble, yelled at, humiliated. Or even causing a diplomatic incident that led to war!
He was most certainly capable of that level of clumsiness, at least when he was nervous.
His eyes went automatically over the numbers on his screen. Everything was . . . right.
Well, it was off, because they’d had to change a lot of things for the Star Angel. It bothered him deeply, to see everything so close to right, but off by just a few minor points.
He wanted to fix them, set it back to how it should be, but of course that would probably kill the Star Angel. Or make it explode or dissipate or become so powerful that it would eat the universe.
Yep, just more problems to be laid at his feet that way.
He shook his head. When Cutter had put him on this team, he’d tried to hint that maybe he’d get passed over for the next few Response missions that needed an engineer.
But of course Cutter had looked at him with those unreadable compound eyes and missed it. Or ignored it.
He couldn’t rule out that the Beetle-Slug got all of his hints, but just refused to entertain them. The work-ethic of his kind was impeccable. The idea that he wanted to get out of some duty – even if it was dangerous – was something he likely wouldn’t entertain.
A new light pinged on his console – the Star Angel was communicating.
“Ah, hello?”
The voice was a feminine, soft and soothing with just a hint of confusion in it. It immediately made him think of Rayla McCarr or Audriana Kesley, one of those famous thespians who had the perfect combination of wit, grace, and charm, and utterly lacking in arrogance.
He suddenly felt more nervous.
“Hello, Ambassador. How may I help you?” he asked. His voice didn’t waver, at least.
“Oh!” the voice exclaimed.
“Huh?” he replied.
“Who are you?” the voice asked.
“Ah – I’m Chief Fusion Engineer Boniface Tred,” he said, unwittingly coming to attention.
“I don’t know what all of that means, but it’s very nice to meet you!” the voice came.
“Ah . . . to you as well, Ambassador.”
“Ambassador is very formal . . . Do we have to speak that way when it’s not some big event?”
He blinked rapidly and swallowed. This was just a voice coming from a ten-meter long plasma alien that spoke in radio waves. It was only a fantastically well-made computer program that gave it the voice an angel should by all rights have.
“You could just call me Tred, ma’am. But . . . I don’t know what your name is, to be honest, Ambassador.”
“Oh, I quite like your name! But Tred, I’m afraid I don’t have a name among your people yet. I have not yet picked one.”
“You don’t? Oh, I’m sorry,” Tred said, unsure what to say beyond that.
“My people all have a unique frequency. It’s all we need for a name . . . But it seems quite important among your kind, so I didn’t want to rush picking. I like how so many of them have a meaning. Could you help me think of one? I’ve been thinking about it, but I haven’t found any I like.”
“Oh, er . . . Sure. I’d be glad to help,” Tred said.
His cheeks were burning, he realized. He was blushing.
There were many others in the room, though no one seemed to be paying particular attention to him. But he knew this was all being recorded, that even the Star Angel would know that, so this was hardly a private conversation, and he was little more than the engineering equivalent of a bellhop to the Ambassador.
But it felt like it was a private conversation.
A name came to his mind, unbidden.
“Jophiel,” he suggested.
There was a pause. It was very long, and he worried for a moment that he’d somehow offended the ambassador.
“Does it mean anything?” she asked.
He had to check his system for a translation. “Ah . . . it means ‘divine beauty’,” he said, blushing even more fiercely.
There was another long pause.
“I’ll be Jophiel, then!” the Ambassador returned. “How wonderful, it sounds delightful to me! Thank you for helping me!”
“Just happy to help Ambas- I mean Jophiel,” he replied.
“Will you be around all the time, Tred?” she asked him.
“Just . . . sometimes,” he replied. “I work here, I keep the fusion reactor operating in a way that’s healthy for you. But humans need to take rests, or I may have to do other work, so . . . not all the time.”
“Oh, I see. That’s okay. I can be patient! My kind rest sometimes, too. I’m very . . . tired, does that translate correctly?”
“Yes,” he said. “I think so.”
“Good! I am very tired and need to rest. But I’m very happy I got to meet you Tred. I hope we get to talk again soon!”
“Me too,” he replied.
The line clicked twice as it disconnected, and he started, not sure what to make of that. It was an intentional double click, he checked the log.
Jophiel must have done it for a reason. Like some kind of . . . special goodbye.
He found himself smiling.
Other Terrestrial 