Matt was already uncomfortable standing bent over. The chairs wouldn’t accommodate him. Unexpectedly, Mr. Smith snorted.
“I think that is laughter,” said Phyl.
“On this most significant occasion, I am a poor host. I had not expected you to be so large. In fact, I hadn’t expected you at all.” It snorted again.
Odd sense of humor, thought Matt. “You thought it was a hoax,” he said.
“I’m not sure what I thought.” He turned back to Rudy. It was no longer possible to think of Mr. Smith as an it. “Did I understand correctly? You came here from the edge of the galaxy? In twenty-three days?”
“Yes. Although our home world is not all the way out on the rim.”
“Nevertheless. I don’t know much about such things, but I am aware it’s a long flight.”
Antonio asked permission to take pictures.
“Of course,” said Mr. Smith.
The imagers on their harnesses were transmitting everything back to Hutch. But Antonio had specialized equipment, and wanted specific angles, so he began taking pictures of the alien, and of the room.
Jon lowered himself onto the floor, beside a radiator, and Matt followed. The furniture looked comfortable. Thick cushions. A sofa and two armchairs. A device that was probably a radio receiver was set on a corner table. The walls were paneled, light-stained, and smelled vaguely of cedar. A set of stairs rose to the second floor. Two electric lamps provided light. On the whole, the place felt warm and cozy.
A doorway opened onto a dining area. Mr. Smith glanced in that direction. “May I get you some refreshments?”
“No, thank you,” said Rudy. “No offense, but we’re not sure your food would be safe for us.”
“Ah. Yes, I should have realized. I suspect there would be no problem, but it is best to take no chance.” He sat down on the floor beside Jon. “May I ask why you picked me? I mean, of all the people in the world, why did you call me?”
“Because we wanted to speak with a scientist. We overheard you on a radio broadcast.”
The alien had short stubby digits. Six on each hand. (It was actually more like a claw.) He pressed the digits together in a very human gesture. “I see. You’re talking about the public relations push for my group of people come together for profit.” Phyl’s voice changed, apparently dissatisfied with her translation. She tried again: “The effort to collect customers for my business.”
“Yes.”
“But I am not a scientist. What made you think that?”
“We understood you to be a physicist.”
“Oh, no,” he said. “I help people take care of their physical well-being. I am a”—the flow of conversation stopped while Phyl considered what term to use—“a health guru.”
“This is turning into a pretty good story,” said Antonio.
A gust of wind rattled the trees. “How old,” asked Rudy, “is the culture? Your civilization?”
Mr. Smith thought about it. “I don’t think I understand the question.”
“You have an organized society.”
“Of course.”
“How long has it been here?”
“It’s always been here.”
Rudy glanced at Matt. Where do we begin with this guy? “We know there was a high-tech society on this world a long time ago. And there is still one. More or less. But you do not seem to have what they had. There’s no evidence of a space program. You do not transmit visuals. Power is supplied by landline. What happened?”
“You asked several questions. Let me tell you first that one of the (not translatable) ships is out there. Orbiting (not translatable).”
Phyl broke in. “Give me a second to talk to him.” Moments later, she was back. “The ship is very old. Thousands of years, but it’s from this world. It’s in orbit around one of the gas giants.”
“We don’t know what happened to it.” Mr. Smith looked away from them. “But it’s there. If we ever get a space program together, we’ll probably go out and take a look at it. But I can’t really see that happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because technology is dangerous.”
“How do you mean?”
“It can provide horrendous weapons to idiots.”
“Well,” said Antonio, “you have a point there.”
“There are subtle things. It can tweak a gene and make everyone happy.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Think what happens to a society if everyone is happy. All the time.” He paused. Removed his jacket, revealing a knit white shirt, open at the neck. “The higher the level of technology, the more vulnerable a civilization becomes. Shut down a system here, or there, and the whole thing collapses. We have seen it.
“The simple answer to your question is that we do not have, for example, imaging transmission because we forgot how to do it.”
“You forgot.”
“Yes. We forgot. And we choose not to remember.”
“Why? How is imaging transmission dangerous?”
“It has led to social decay. In some eras, it became a tool for enslavement. For controlling the masses. You didn’t watch it. It watched you.”
“What sort of government have you?”
Phyl spoke again: “He does not understand the question.”
Rudy gave it another try: “Who builds the roads?”
“We have people who specialize in highway construction.”
“Who provides leadership? Who makes decisions of general consequence?”
“We have leaders.”
“How do you decide who leads? Do you hold elections?”
Mr. Smith responded. Phyl said, “He does not understand the question.”
“Try it this way: ‘How does one become a leader?’”
“We do not replace leaders.”
On their private channel, Antonio commented that it sounded like a dictatorship.
“What happens when they die?”
He needed a moment to reply. “The security is very good.”
Rudy was showing signs of frustration. “What happens when they die of old age?”
“Explain, please.”
“When their bodies wear out and they cease to function.”
“You’re talking about animals.”
“No. I’m talking about your leaders.”
“They do not die. Not of natural causes. Why would you think that?”