The door retracted while Aycharaych stepped through. Desai caught his breath. He had not expected someone this impressive.
Or was that the word? Was “disturbing” more accurate? Xenosophonts who resembled humans occasionally had that effect on the latter; and Aycharaych was more anthropoid than Uldwyr.
One might indeed call him beautiful. He stood tall and thin in a gray robe, broad-chested but wasp-waisted, a frame that ought to have moved gawkily but instead flowed. The bare feet each had four long claws, and spurs on the ankles. The hands were six-fingered, tapered, their nails suggestive of talons. The head arched high and narrow, bearing pointed ears, great rust-red eyes, curved blade of nose, delicate mouth, pointed chin and sharply angled jaws; Desai thought of a Byzantine saint. A crest of blue feathers rose above, and tiny plumes formed eyebrows. Otherwise his skin was wholly smooth across the prominent bones, a glowing golden color.
After an instant’s hesitation, Desai said, “Ah … welcome, Honorable. I hope I can be of service.” They shook hands. Aycharaych’s was warmer than his. The palm had a hardness that wasn’t calluses. Avian, the man guessed. Descended from an analog of flightless birds.
The other’s Anglic was flawless; the musical overtone which his low voice gave sounded not like a mispronunciation but a perfection. “Thank you, Commissioner. You are kind to see me this promptly. I realize how busy you must be.”
“Won’t you be seated?” The chair in front of the desk didn’t have to adjust itself much. Desai resumed his own. “Do you mind if I smoke? Would you care for one?” Aycharaych shook his head to both questions, and smiled; again Desai thought of antique images, archaic Grecian sculpture. “I’m very interested to meet you,” he said. “I confess your people are new in my experience.”
“We are few who travel off our world,” Aycharaych replied. “Our sun is in Sector Aldebaran.”
Desai nodded. “M-hm.” His business had never involved any society in that region. No surprise. The vaguely bounded, roughly spherical volume over which Terra claimed suzerainty had a diameter of some 400 light-years; it held an estimated four million stars, whereof half were believed to have been visited at least once; approximately 100,000 planets had formalized relations with the Imperium, but for most of them it amounted to no more than acknowledgment of subordination and modest taxes, or merely the obligation to make labor and resources available should the Empire ever have need. In return they got the Pax; and they had a right to join in spatial commerce, though the majority lacked the capital, or the industrial base, or the appropriate kind of culture for that— Too big, too big. If a single planet overwhelms the intellect, what then of our entire microscopic chip of the galaxy, away off toward the edge of a spiral arm, which we imagine we have begun to be a little acquainted with?
“You are pensive, Commissioner,” Aycharaych remarked.
“Did you notice?” Desai laughed. “You’ve known quite a few humans, then.”
“Your race is ubiquitous,” Aycharaych answered politely. “And fascinating. That is my heart reason for coming here.”
“Ah … pardon me, I’ve not had a chance to give your documents a proper review. I know only that you wish to travel about on Aeneas for scientific purposes.”
“Consider me an anthropologist, if you will. My people have hitherto had scant outside contact, but they anticipate more. My mission for a number of years has been to go to and fro in the Empire, learning the ways of your species, the most numerous and widespread within those borders, so that we may deal wisely with you. I have observed a wonderful variety of life-manners, yes, of thinking, feeling, and perceiving. Your versatility approaches miracle.”
“Thank you,” said Desai, not altogether comfortably. “I don’t believe, myself, we are unique. It merely happened we were the first into space—in our immediate volume and point in history—and our dominant civilization of the time happened to be dynamically expansive. So we spread into many different environments, often isolated, and underwent cultural radiation … or fragmentation.” He streamed smoke from his nose and peered through it. “Can you, alone, hope to discover much about us?”