They arrived in a blue-and-gold skimmer and hovered over the villa. "They're taking pictures," said Kassel. After a while they landed and brought equipment inside. Directed by a female, a team of three moved the furniture around, set up the recording gear, explained to Selotta and Kassel how, once they got started, everybody other than the principals would have to leave the building. When they'd finished, they climbed back into the skimmer, promising to return shortly, and vanished into the late-morning sky. "How big an audience does this guy get?" I asked. Kassel thought about it. "The latest surveys show forty million or so. It's big . The critical thing, though, is its composition. It includes the"-he paused, searching for a phrase-"the movers and shakers. You want to make a splash, this is the way you do it." He paused and looked in the direction the skimmer had taken. "I wish I could get them to pay this much attention to me ." Make a splash. That called the vooparoo to mind again. It might not have been so bad had Alex not kept telling me I'd do fine. You won't screw up. After all, what could go wrong? Don't worry, Chase, you're a natural. After a while he stopped. Maybe he figured out he wasn't helping, or maybe our hosts read my state of mind and advised him to knock it off. Whatever, Selotta tried to change the subject to what a good dinner we were going to have. Kassel started talking about the Mute philosopher Tulisofala and the Kaiman Cliffs, and Alex pretended to read. Two hours later, the skimmer came back. The female climbed out and came inside. She made some adjustments with the omicron. She was still not wearing a voice box. I think she regarded Alex and me as pet chimps. She stiffened, so I knew she had picked that up. I pictured a banana. Really like them. Yum-yum. She kept working while I munched the banana. Selotta suggested that was not the way to win them over. Meanwhile, a second skimmer arrived, and a guy who was obviously Ordahl stepped out and looked around. He wore a bright gold robe. I watched him take a chain out of a small black package. It was his voice box, which he studied for a moment before looping it around his neck. He strode imposingly up the walkway. Kassel met him at the door and showed him inside. He was your standard Mute, almost two heads taller than I was. His skin was not gray, like all the others I'd seen in my limited travels, but almost gold. There was, of course, no expression to read, just the long jaws and the diamond eyes. He did an exchange with Selotta and Kassel. Then, after a few seconds, they all turned to Alex and me. Kassel did the introductions, and Ordahl responded by saying he was pleased to meet us. One of the many problems inherent in communicating with the Ashiyyur is that whoever manufactures the voice boxes apparently makes only two types: one for each gender. Otherwise, the voices are identical. So at first, while we tried to get set up, I was seldom sure whether Kassel or Ordahl was talking. It would have been okay had either moved his lips. Kassel grasped the situation and moved well away from Ordahl so it became easier to know where the voice was coming from. Finally, everybody filed outside. They took seats in the skimmers, or on the deck. The female closed the doors, and I was alone with Ordahl. He asked if I was ready to begin. That was purely a formality because he had to know I wasn't ready, and never would be. "Yes," I said, trying to be casual. "Relax." He let me see his fangs and pointed at the chairs. A smile or a promise of extermination? "Why don't we sit, Chase?" The chairs had been placed facing each other in front of a lavender curtain mounted by the crew specifically as a backdrop. "Sure," I said. "I'm ready when you are." "Good. We won't start recording for a few minutes. If that's okay with you." "That's fine." "May I make a comment?" "Sure," I said. "You look very good." "I beg your pardon?" "Don't misunderstand me. You are everything I'd hoped. You're quite alien . And you're unsettling. Not
someone with whom I'd want to be alone. That's precisely what we want. I'd been concerned that you would simply look like a different life-form. But you really do have a quality that is"-he stopped, trying to think what he wanted to say-"disquieting." "Okay. I'm glad I didn't disappoint you." I let him see my incisors, but he didn't seem to notice. "Good." We talked for a few minutes, about my impressions of Borkarat, and how difficult it was to communicate using grunts, snarls, and aspirates. Then he asked again whether I was ready. "Yes." Let's get it over with. A green lamp blinked on. "Chase Kolpath, I'd like to welcome you to Newsmaker . The show has been running for thirty-two years, and you're the first human who's been our guest." "It's a pleasure to be here, Ordahl." "May I ask how long you've been on Borkarat, Chase?" "Just a couple of weeks." We went back and forth for several minutes. What was my connection with the mission from Salud Afar? How had I come to be on that world? Was it really true that the Administrator's staff knew of the Callistra event before we reported it to him? Uh-oh. "I really have no way of knowing the answer to that, Ordahl. But I'd be shocked to learn that the Administrator had been aware of the problem in advance." We went through a series of preliminaries. Would I explain what I did for a living and why I'd come to Borkarat? What did it feel like to be isolated inside my mind? What was my reaction to living among a race that communicated so differently? Did I feel a sense of release to know that I was now open to others, and that everything I knew could be made available to them with no effort on my part? "No," I admitted. "It scares the daylights out of me." "Why? Why are humans so frightened of truth? So literally terrified that others will find out what they think? What they feel? Are they really that deceptive?" "Nobody's frightened of the truth, Ordahl. But we think privacy counts for something, too." "Yes. Thus you value your ability to conceal the truth from one another." "Sometimes truth is painful. For example, revealing some parts of daily life is tasteless. There are details of physical reality that we all know about, but we don't want them pushed into our consciousness on a regular basis." "Such as?" "Such as whether my notable interviewer feels a need to go to the bathroom." I wondered how a comedian got by on a world in which nobody ever laughed? "What," he asked, "is a comedian?" His tone suggested an adult trying to talk sense to a child. I resisted the impulse to fall back on my charm. My soft gray eyes and long black hair. I had good features and a killer smile. Ordinarily, they were more than enough to cow male opposition. But I had no way to charm that hulk. Whatever allure I possessed was missing in action. "Surely," he said, "you must understand that many of the problems between your species and the Ashiyyur spring from the willingness of humans to engage in deceit." "Some of the problems are a result of Ashiyyurean hubris." "Ah. Could you explain, please?" "Ashiyyureans think they are superior. I'm not sure why they would believe that, other than that they share a common consciousness. Are you more intelligent than we are? If you were, surely you'd have found a way to make peace with us. I know we can be noisy neighbors, but we don't want to be fighting incessant border wars. And neither do you. Neither side profits from them. Why are you unable to persuade us to do what is in our own self-interest?" Eventually we got to the point. "You came hoping to enlist a promise from us that we would call a halt to hostilities so that your combat fleets could go to the rescue at Salud Afar." "Yes. That's correct." "And you got that promise. We have agreed to stand down during the emergency."