‘You built this airship specially for the slider machine?’
‘Oh no, this is one of three such vessels we have had for some years; we use them for tasks requiring very long endurance.’
We returned to the front of the observation deck and I settled down to enjoy the view. I learned that the ship was travelling at some 250 kilometres per hour, about twice as fast as the great human airships of the 1930s. Secundo explained that this was possible because the saurians had made the hull out of a rigid, lightweight synthetic material, much more able to resist the air pressure than the fabric used on the airships I was familiar with. It still relied on helium for lift, though – physics was no different for saurians than for humans. This was combined with a hot-air system, powered by the microwave beam, to fine-tune the buoyancy; they didn’t need to vent gas or drop ballast.
We reached the Clyde about an hour later. I recalled the densely populated city of Glasgow, the river banks lined with old shipyards being regenerated. None of that was visible here – just a scatter of low buildings spread along the riverbank, with one graceful bridge crossing the river. A ship was visible, moored at the end of a jetty. The landscape of the central lowlands looked very green, and empty of anything much except trees; the largest open spaces seemed to be around the settlements.
I alternated between observing with fascination the scene unrolling in front of me and questioning the saurians. I learned that only about a million saurians lived in the British Isles; that of course they needed no arable or pasture land but only orchards for their fruit and nuts, but they kept a semi-domesticated species of small grazing dinosaur specifically to maintain open spaces for aesthetic more than practical reasons – they enjoyed a view as much as humans. Unlike my world, most of the population was concentrated in the west of Britain since their orchards grew better there, and they preferred to eat local produce as much as possible. The ship I saw was powered by hydrogen. Like the airships, it refuelled from special stations – a safe distance from other activities, naturally – where water was split into hydrogen and oxygen by electricity generated by fusion, geothermal or solar power, depending on the location. Burning the hydrogen used up oxygen in the atmosphere, which was replenished by releasing the oxygen generated at the fuelling stations. A neat and pollution-free system.
The ship continued to cross the country, heading approximately south-east. About two and a half hours into the flight, I recognised Flamborough Head as we set out over the North Sea, and began to feel some curiosity about what the saurians planned for me.
‘Where are we heading for?’
‘We are taking you to meet our Planetary Assembly.’ Primo responded. ‘They are gathering in what you know as the Netherlands. They meet in various different places, but this is the closest – and we think you’ll find the location interesting compared with your world.’
It was afternoon by the time we reached the coast. It looked very different from the Netherlands I knew. Instead of sea walls and drained polders, the sea spread far inland behind a line of sandy islands: the great bay of the Zuider Zee had not been tamed into the Ijsselmeer and was still open to the North Sea. There was no clear-cut end to the sea, it just merged into sandbanks and marshlands, with a network of open pools lined with reeds. The saurians kept up a running commentary, briefing me as we approached. A settlement came into view beside a lake, one large, circular building being prominent. Primo gave me the mental identity of the place, which translated as something like “small town by a lake close to a large bay in location xxx where the Assembly sometimes meets”, so I promptly dubbed it Laketown. The Assembly was gathering there, as it had enough facilities to accommodate the members as well as house the meetings. A couple of other airships were visible in the distance, bringing representatives from overseas.
The airship slowed to a hover close to Laketown, and Primo led the way up the ramp to another part of the huge hull, where a smaller version of the cabin for the slider machine was waiting for us. It lowered us smoothly down to the ground and we jogged and hopped the short distance across the turf to the buildings. I looked curiously at the grazing animals, which moved out of our way but otherwise ignored us. They were about the size of sheep, with a brightly-coloured scaly skin, but did not look like any reptile that I could recall. Not too surprising, I supposed, as evolution had taken a different path for what must have been tens of millions of years. Above us, the linked airships moved away. They did not need to berth anywhere, but remained constantly aloft except for occasional maintenance sessions.
A dwelling on the edge of Laketown had been set aside for our use. I was fascinated by the opportunity to discover what “home” meant to saurians. The building was flat-roofed, single-storey and sprawling. The walls were lightly constructed panels, many of them glass, and there were entrances in every wall. Inside, the rooms were large. The main living room had a human-sized table but no chairs, and there was plenty of space to allow those powerful tails to swing around. The bedrooms had low pads on the floor, except for mine which had been equipped with human furniture complete with an en-suite bathroom which, Tertia informed me, had been copied from a human luxury hotel.
Shortly after we arrived I sensed another saurian outside, politely requesting permission to enter; a mind-link made doorbells unnecessary, I realised. Primo went to meet her and led her into the living room, introducing her to me as the Convener of the Planetary Assembly. She welcomed me warmly, her emotion tinged with politely controlled curiosity. Limited as I am to written words, it is hard to explain the feeling, but her mind had a distinctive signature. In addition to the usual saurian measured deliberation, her personality had a power and complexity beyond any mind I had yet linked with. The Assembly would not meet until tomorrow, but she would spend the evening with us.
Mealtime with the saurians involved no ceremony. Dishes of various types of fruit and shelled nuts, including several which were new to me, were placed in the centre of the table for the diners to pile onto their plates as they wished. I gathered that the saurians had applied their genetic skills to developing many new varieties. The conversation was lively, as mind-linking allowed us to eat and communicate at the same time. The saurians supplemented the mental interchange with arm gestures and rapidly-shifting patterns of colour over their skins, adding up to an amazingly rich and colourful conversation.
After the usual social chit-chat about the journey and my impressions of the very different landscapes I had travelled over, I asked about their use of the skin patterns. The Convenor answered: ‘It developed long before we had mental abilities. At first, it was simply a matter of providing camouflage against our enemies. But it became a lot more sophisticated later. We spend much time in water and it allowed us to communicate clearly underwater. It was really a language of its own, although now we use an evolved version to supplement mind-linking. It isn’t strictly necessary, but we find that it adds something to the conversation.’
‘We use facial expressions and body language in a similar way. As you say, it’s not necessary to convey information, but it adds an extra dimension to speech. I wonder if that will still be true after humans get used to mind-linking?’
‘Many things will change for you. Some we can predict from our own experience, but others will be peculiar to humanity. You are in for some interesting times!’