Farden studied the two aliens in a detached kind of way as they peered at the screen—they had been around long enough, and he had seen enough of them by now, not to be unduly curious. They were tall and blockish in build, with square-cut features like the heroes of old-time comic strips, giving their faces a squashed look, and skin color ranging from purple to light blue-gray. Their generally humanoid form had caused consternation among scientific ranks when they first came to Earth, because according to the then prevailing theories such similarity resulting from separate evolutionary processes unfolding in isolation shouldn’t have been possible. The matter had been one of indifference to Farden, who had never paid much attention to scientific theories anyway, and as far as he knew it still wasn’t settled. Their hair came in all manner of hues, the two present on this occasion having glossy black showing blue highlights in one case, and a dull coppery red in the other, both trimmed in the standard Hyadean manner. And both wore the familiar tunic-like garb, plain in color, one drab green, the other brown, purely functional, devoid of decoration or appeal to aesthetic styling.
They exchanged utterances in their own language. Then the black-haired one spoke down toward his breast pocket. A voice replied in Hyadean, but including recognizably the words “very long.” Hyadeans carried a kind of pocket Artificial Intelligence that acted as a secretary and librarian, and could help them with language translation and other matters. Terrans called the device a “veebee,” standing for voxbox. The Hyadean explained to the three Terrans:
“My companion is not here, at Earth, for very long. The ways are new and strange. At Chryse, people acting like that would be . . .” He consulted his veebee again. “Unthinkable.” Chryse was the Hyadeans’ home world, a planet of the hitherto unnamed star Amaris, in the vicinity of the constellations Hyades and the Pleiades, in the sign of Taurus.
“That word tends to suggest disapproval,” Meakes commented. “That he doesn’t agree.”
The Hyadean who had spoken conversed briefly with the red-headed one. “He does not approve. He asks how leaders can function.”
“Tell him we agree on that,” Farden said, at the same time praying inwardly that this stunted attempt at conversation wouldn’t endure all through the flight.
“One reason we are here is that we educate . . .” (the veebee interjected something) “to educate Earth in organizing a system that will avoid such things. That way means wealth and peace for all. As is true for Hyadean worlds.”
Meakes nodded. “I’ll say amen to that.”
“Excuse me. I am not familiar with `amen’ in this context,” the veebee’s voice said from the black-haired Hyadean’s breast pocket.
“It means . . . True? Truly?” Meakes looked at Farden and the other Army officer inquiringly. They returned shrugs. “Anyhow, I agree with that too,” he said.
“Thanks. Noted,” the veebee acknowledged.
The black-haired Hyadean waved to indicate the interior of the vehicle. “And we will make Terrans into better scientists, so maybe one day you build craft like these too.” What most people considered “tact” wasn’t exactly the aliens’ strongest point. When they felt superior or considered themselves to be at an advantage in some respect, they made sure to let everyone know. Farden nodded noncommittally. The exchange continued bravely for a minute or so more and then died, and the occupants lapsed into talk in lowered tones with their own kind.
Farden leaned back against the rubbery headrest and thought over what his position would be later at the meeting Kovansky had alluded to, in the light of the day’s events. At least the seats were of alien proportions, which was an improvement over a lot of traveling accommodations that he had endured. Another reason for preferring to use Hyadean vessels whenever possible was that the on-board defenses were fast and accurate enough to stop any Terran-produced missile before it got closer than ten miles, or a ground-launched shot from immediately below within a second of firing. With political terrorists in the U.S. taking on the regular military now, and acquiring all kinds of weapons, one couldn’t take too many precautions. . . .