“Jacob Alvarez Demwa, a-Human, ul-Dolphin-ul-Chimp, we welcome you. It pleases this poor being to sense you today, once again.” Fagin spoke clearly, but with an uncontrolled singsong quality which made his accent sound like mixed Swedish and Cantonese. The Kanten did much better speaking dolphin or trinary.
“Fagin, a-Kanten, ab-Linten-ab-Siqul-ul-Nish, Mi-horki Keephu. It pleases me to see you once again.” Jacob bowed.
“These venerable beings have come to exchange their wisdom with yours, Friend-Jacob,” Fagin said. “I hope you are prepared for formal introductions.”
Jacob set his mind to concentrate on the convoluted species names of each alien, at least as much as on their appearance. Patronymics and multiple client names would tell a great deal about the status of each. He nodded for Fagin to proceed.
“I will now formally introduce you to Bubbacub, a-Pil, ab-Kisa-ab-Soro-ab-Hul-ab-Puber-ul-Gello-ul-pring, of the Library Institute.”
One of the E.T.’s stepped foward. Jacob’s initial gestalt was of a four-foot, gray teddy bear. But a wide snout and fringe of cilia around the eyes belied that impression.
This was Bubbacub, director of the Branch Library! The Branch Library at La Paz consumed almost all of the meager trade balance which Earth had accumulated since contact. Even so, much of the prodigious effort of adapting a tiny “suburban” Branch to human referents was donated by the huge galactic Institute of the Library, as a charity, to help the “backward” human race catch up with the rest of the galaxy. As head of the Branch, Bubbacub was one of the most important aliens on Earth! His species name also implied high status, higher even than Fagin’s!
The “ab” something-to-the-fourth meant that Bubbacub’s species had been nurtured into sentience by another which had in turn been nurtured by another, and so forth back to the mythical beginning at the time of the Progenitors… and that four of these generations of “Parentals” were still alive somewhere in the galaxy. To be derived from such a chain meant status in a diffuse galactic culture whose every spacefaring species (with the possible lone exception of humanity) was brought up out of semi-intelligent savagery by some previous, space-traveling race.
The “ul” something squared said that the Pil race had in turn fostered two new cultures on their own. This too was status.
The one thing that had prevented the complete snubbing of the “orphan” human race by the Galactics was the fortunate fact that man had himself fostered new intelligent races twice before, the Vesarius had brought Contact with the E.T. civilization home to Earth.
The alien made a slight bow.
“I am Bubbacub.”
The voice sounded artificial. It came from a disc that hung from the Pil’s neck.
A Vodor! The Pil race required artificial assistance to speak English, then. From the simplicity of the device, much smaller than those used by alien visitors whose native tongues were twitters and squeaks, Jacob guessed that Bubbacub could actually pronounce human words, but in a frequency range beyond human hearing. He decided to assume that the being could hear him.
“I am Jacob. Welcome to Earth.” He nodded.
Bubbacub’s mouth snapped open and shut a few times silently.
“Thank you,” the Vodor buzzed, in clipped, short words. “I am happy to be here.”
“And I to be of service as your host.” Jacob bowed ever so slightly deeper than he had seen Bubbacub do when he came forward. The alien seemed to be satisfied and stepped back.
Fagin recommenced his introductions.
“These worthy beings are of your race.” A twig and a bunch of petals gestured vaguely in the direction of the two human beings. A gray-haired gentleman, dressed in tweed, stood next to a tall brown woman, in handsome middle age.
“I will now introduce you,” Fagin continued, “in the informal manner preferred by humans.
“Jacob Demwa, meet Doctor Dwayne Kepler, of the Sundiver Expedition, and Doctor Mildred Martine, of the Department of Parapsychology at the University of La Paz.”
Kepler’s face was dominated by a substantial handlebar moustache. He smiled, but Jacob was too amazed to reply to his pleasantries with more than a monosyllable.
The Sundiver Expedition! The research on Mercury and in the solar chromosphere had been a football in the Confederacy Assembly, of late. The “Adapt Survive” faction said that it made no sense to spend so much for knowledge that could be ” pulled out of the Library, when the same appropriation could employ several times as many unemployed scientists here on Earth with make-work projects. The “Self-Sufficiency” faction had so far had its way, though, in spite of abuse from the Danikenite press.
But to Jacob it was the idea of sending men and ships down into a star that sounded like insanity of the first degree.
“Kant Fagin was enthusiastic in his recommendations,” Kepler said. The Sundiver leader smiled, but his eyes were reddened. They bore puffy outlines from some inner worry. He pressed Jacob’s hand in both of his own and pumped quickly as he spoke. His voice was deep but it did not hide a quaver.
“We came to Earth only for a little while. It’s an answered prayer that Fagin was able to persuade you to meet with us. We really hope you can join us on Mercury and give us the benefit of your experience in interspecies contact.”
Jacob started. Oh no, not this time you don’t, you leafy monster! He wanted to turn and glare at Fagin but even informal intrahuman propriety required that he face these people and make small talk. Mercury indeed!
Dr. Martine’s face fell easily into a pleasant smile but she looked a little bored as he shook her hand.
Jacob wondered if he could ask what parapsychology had to do with solar physics without sounding as if he were interested, but Fagin beat him to it.
“I intrude, as is generally considered acceptable in informal conversations among human beings when a pause has occurred. There remains one worthy being to introduce.”
Oops, thought Jacob, I hope this Eatee’s not one of the hypersensitive ones. He turned to where the lizardlike extraterrestrial stood, to his right, next to a multicolored wall mosaic. It had risen from its cushion and now moved on six legs toward them. It was less than a meter in length and about twenty centimeters high. It walked right past him without a glance and proceeded to rub itself against Bubbacub’s leg.
“Ahem,” Fagin said. “That is a pet. The worthy whom you are about to meet is the estimable client who brought you to this room.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jacob grinned, then forced a serious expression onto his face.
“Jacob Demwa, a-Human, ul-Dolphin-ul-Chimp, please meet Culla, a-Pring, ab-Pil-ab-Kisa-ab-Soro-ab-Hul-ab-Puber, Assistant to Bubbacubof the Libraries and Representative of the Library with the Sundiver Project.”
As Jacob had expected, the name had only patronymics. The Pring had no clients of their own. They were of the Puber/Soro line, though. Someday they would have high status as members of that old and powerful lineage. He had noticed that Bubbacub’s species was also out of the Puber/Soro and wished he could recall if the Pila and Pring were Patron and Client.
The alien stepped forward but did not offer to shake hands. His hands were long and tentacular with six fingers each at the ends of long slender arms. They looked fragile. Culla had a faint odor, a bit like the smell of new mown hay, that was not at all unpleasant.
The huge columnar eyes flashed as Culla bowed for the formal introduction. The E.T.’s “lips” curled back to display a pair of white, gleaming, grindermashie things, one on top and one on the bottom. The partially prehensile lips brought the cleavers together with a white porcelain “clack!”
That can’t be a friendly gesture where he comes from, Jacob shuddered. The alien probably pulled his huge dentures out to imitate a human smile. The sight was disturbing and at the same time intriguing. Jacob wondered what they were for. He also hoped that Culla would keep his… lips curled back in the future.