“You seem to get on with them quite well,” said the SOS.
“They probably chose someone they knew they’d get along with,” Benita replied, though doubtfully. “I suppose I would do the same, in their place. They said they preferred to appear to someone just ordinary who could put them in touch with the VIPs without making a fuss about it.”
“You think they’ve done this before, then?” the SOS asked. “On other worlds?”
“Either that or they’re following a protocol,” Benita replied, after a moment’s thought.
The SOS gave her a piercing look. “Why would you think so?”
“Oh, the box they gave me. You’ve seen that?”
“I saw it, yes. It was the main course at two Cabinet meetings. One Monday, one this afternoon.”
“That box isn’t something made up for one occasion. You noticed how it fills in the names? That clicking, while it searches for the proper label? If they’d made it up special, the names would have been included seamlessly. No, that box is something they use all the time. They probably have a supply of them in their ship, just in case they need more than one.”
“Ah,” said the SOS, then asked casually, “Is it a large ship?”
“Not the one I saw. It looked hardly big enough for the two of them. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have a big ship.”
“Where is it, do you think?”
“Oh, probably on the back side of the moon. That’s where sci-fi writers would put it. Or under the ice in Antarctica, like in the X-Files.Or maybe it’s simply a stealth ship, right out in the open only we can’t see it, or, since they can appear as any creature they want to, maybe their ship can, too, and it’s taken on the likeness of something we’d expect, a cloud, or a weather balloon.”
The SOS choked on her drink. “That doesn’t disturb you?”
“Not really. I don’t get any feeling of menace from them. Not even right at first. I think they’re really what they say they are. Xenologists. Or xenological social workers.”
“Studying us? General McVane is quite worried about security. He tells us there have been multiple sightings of something, ships perhaps, in the last several days. Our military are in considerable disruption. They can’t identify who or what is flying around over our country, perhaps studying our weapons.”
Benita shook her head. “It could be just as likely they’re studying our culture. If we went to the Amazon to study a tribe there, our Department of Defense wouldn’t be greatly interested in their bows and arrows, would it? We’d be more interested in other things, their language maybe.”
“Their physiology?”
“Only if it differed greatly from our own.”
“Would we kill one and dissect it?”
“If we were ethical, no. And one of the beings at that first meeting told me they were ethical. They don’t do vivisection.”
“So they won’t kidnap a human to dissect?”
“They say they’ve never done that. If they needed to do that, which I doubt, they would probably wait until they could lay hands on a dead one.”
General Wallace announced dinner and offered Lara his arm. The president’s wife was at one end of the table and General Wallace at the other. Indira was on the First Lady’s right, Mr. Riley on her left. Lara had General Wallace’s right, with General McVane across from her and the SOS on his left, opposite Benita. The food was simple but very good, and both the ET’s seemed to enjoy it. Benita watched them, thinking they might only be playing at enjoyment, tucking the food away inside to dispose of later. No telling what they could do with those infinitely morphable bodies. They were offered wine, which they refused. Benita’s wineglass was filled, but she tasted it sparingly. Since she was sitting at the mid-point of the table, she could hear the conversation at both ends.
“Perhaps you ladies would be kind enough to resolve a small confusion for us,” she heard Indira say with a kindly smile.
The First Lady and the Secretary of State shared glances. The FL said, “We would be happy to try.”