Illegal Alien

*40*

On second thought, it was deemed better to send a human out to make first contact. There were those who still didn’t trust Hask or Seltar, and the two Tosoks might also be in danger from this new alien: they were, after all, traitors to their own people.

Since Frank Nobilio was the only living person with direct experience at first contact, the job fell to him. He was flown from the Virginia command center to the UN aboard a two-seater Marine Corps Harrier TAV-8B VTOL jet, dispatched from a training squadron at Cherry Point, North Carolina.

Once he’d arrived in New York, Hask and Seltar greeted Frank in an office inside the looming monolith of the Secretariat building.

“It is good to see you, friend Frank,” said Hask.

“You, too,” said Frank. “You recognize that ship?” The alien vessel was visible through the mirrored office window.

“No,” said Hask. “But that is meaningless. So much may have changed in the intervening centuries since our departure.” The male Tosok’s tuft waved. “Whatever happens now, Frank—to you, and to your world—I thank you for your previous help, and ask you to remember that humanity had at least a few friends beyond this planet.”

Frank nodded. “I will.”

Seltar raised her front hand, bringing it tentatively toward Frank’s head.

“May I?” she said.

Frank was momentarily taken aback, but then paused and smiled. Seltar’s four flat-tipped fingers tousled Frank’s hair, which was now mostly gray.

When she was done, Frank used his right hand to briefly stroke Seltar’s tuft, and then, in a move that clearly surprised the male Tosok, he reached over and mussed Hask’s tuft as well.

“I have to go,” said Frank. “Can’t keep our new visitors waiting.”

Hask took his portable computer, with its cross-shaped keypad, from its pouch on his tunic and handed it to Frank. Frank took the elevator down to the ground floor and walked slowly across the United Nations parking lot, toward the spherical ship. The twelve-limbed alien had retreated into its lander some time ago. Frank was afraid he was going to have to go right up to the landing craft and knock on its hull, but when he got within about fifteen meters of the lander, the door appeared again and the alien—or another one just like it—came out.

Frank held up the portable computer, hoping the alien would recognize it, and know what to do with it. It was a gamble: Frank certainly wouldn’t recognize a specialized Italian farm implement from A.D. 1800, let alone one from a culture that wasn’t his own; there was no real reason to think that the newcomer would recognize a two-century-old Tosok computer.

The alien reached out with one of its long arms—from the way it moved, it appeared to be jointed every twenty-five centimeters or so, rather than being a tentacle of pure muscle. Frank took a deep breath and continued to close the distance between them. The alien was indeed wearing some sort of space suit, made of a silvery fabric. There was a clear strip, though, near where each leg joined the torso, and through it Frank could see the creature’s real skin, a scaly yellowish gold. The clear strips were meant to allow the alien’s eyes to peer out—Frank could see two oval-shaped eyes, one atop the other, on each leg. The eyes had lids that closed from left to right, but no two eyes on the same leg ever seemed to shut simultaneously. The tanks of gas on the legs joined directly to the suit at the base of each leg; presumably that’s where the creature’s six breathing orifices were located.

Frank continued to hold the computer out in front of him. Because of the alien’s short height, he could look right down on it from above.

It really did seem to be perfectly radially symmetrical; if it had a preferred front side, Frank could see no indication of it. One of the six arms reached out to Frank. Although its tip was gloved in the same silvery material, Frank could see that it was bifurcated. The two branches easily plucked the computer from Frank’s hand. The suit had been warm to the touch; it was radiating excess heat—the alien perhaps came from a cooler world than this one.

The alien folded its arm back, bringing the computer up to one of its vertical pairs of eyes. It turned it around, apparently unsure how to hold it.

Frank’s heart fell—they’d have to start over from scratch, apparently, trying to learn to communicate.

Suddenly a second starfish alien emerged from the spherical lander. It came toward Frank quickly, its body rotating as it did so. When it got close, Frank saw that it had something in one of its hands—a device that ended in precisely the same sort of tripronged connector he’d come to associate with Tosok technology. The second alien took Hask’s computer from the first alien and plugged it into the device it had brought along. Lights began flashing on both devices.

Frank was aware of a high-pitched buzzing sound, barely audible. At first he thought it was coming from Hask’s computer, but his ears soon focused better on the source. The two aliens were apparently conversing, using mostly ultrasonics. The buzz alternately came from one of them, then the other.

The lights stopped flashing on Hask’s computer. The second alien disengaged it from the device he’d brought, and proffered it to Frank. Frank was surprised, but took it back. The alien handed the other device to the first alien, then twirled back a dozen meters.

The buzzing started again from the first alien, and within seconds, the synthesized voice Frank had come to associate with Hask was emerging from the device the starfish creature was now holding. “Do you understand me?” said the voice.

“Yes,” said Frank, his heart pounding with excitement.

“There is no accepted way to render my own individual name in the subset of the Tosok vocal range that you apparently communicate with. Please assign to me a name whose sound you can replicate.”

Frank was momentarily lost. “Umm— Tony. I’ll call you Tony.”

“Tony. And you are?”

“Frank.”

“We came as soon as we received the Tosok message. I saw from orbit that we were not too late.”

“Too late?”

“To keep your planet from being wiped clean of life.”

“You came to prevent that?”

“We did. The Tosoks tried to extinguish us as well. We are… resilient. They have been subdued.”

Frank felt his features spreading into a broad grin. “Welcome to Earth, friend.”

The new aliens—already dubbed Twirlers by CNN’s correspondent—were originally from the star humans called Epsilon Indi, which, although it was eleven light-years from Earth, was only nine from Alpha Centauri. The Twirlers had begun using radio centuries before humanity had, and so a high-speed Tosok mothership had been dispatched to that star, arriving there thirty-odd years ago. Although it took decades, the Twirlers had managed to defeat the Tosoks.

There were twenty-six Twirlers aboard their beautiful mothership, but it was Tony who served as the sole communicator with humanity. And today, Tony was addressing the General Assembly of the United Nations. He stood at the same lectern Kelkad had used five years before, the great seal of the planet he’d so recently arrived upon spread out behind him, embraced by olive leaves.

Tony no longer used Hask’s voice; once that had been explained to him, he asked for a sample of a new voice so that he could adopt it as his own.

Frank had mulled it over, then sent an aide to Blockbuster Video to rent To Kill a Mockingbird; Tony now spoke with the voice of Gregory Peck’s Atticus Finch.

“People of the Earth,” said Tony. “My government sends its greetings. We are pleased that the Tosok plan has been averted, and that you are safe. But other worlds have not been so fortunate. We have found three that have been wiped clean by the Tosoks, and two continents on my own home world were rendered uninhabitable during our conflict with them. You have a grievance, no doubt, against the Tosoks who came here—but I hope you realize that they in fact have done nothing against Earth beyond the killing of a handful of individuals. In concert with races from two other worlds that the Tosoks had threatened, my people are planning to try the few surviving Tosoks for genocide and attempted genocide—including the five surviving ones here on Earth who were involved in the plot. We invite you to participate in this undertaking if you wish, or to leave it to us. But we do now formally request the extradition of the Tosoks known as Rendo, Torbat, Dodnaskak, Stant, and Ged. We assure you, they will pay for their crimes.

“I stand here, in your United Nations, whose brief, and—I hope you will forgive me for saying—troubled history has been explained to me. The UN, with whatever problems it has, represents an ideal — an abstraction made concrete, a belief that by all working together, peace can be assured. It hasn’t always worked, and it may not always work in the future, but the ideal — the promise, the hope, the concept — is one that my people share, as do those of the other two inhabited worlds I mentioned.

“Our three worlds have already begun creating a — well, let me translate it in a parallel way — a United Planets, an organization representing all of our interests, designed to ensure that never again will war rage between the stars.

“Your planet is, frankly, primitive compared to the existing members of the United Planets. But I see here that the United Nations has long been involved in upgrading the standards of its less affluent, and less developed, members. This, too, is an ideal shared by the United Planets, and I stand before you all, as representatives both individually of your nations and collectively of your world, to invite Earth to join us.” Tony paused, looking out at the faces of humans black and white and yellow and red. “My friends,” he said, “we offer you the stars.”