The Friendly Ambassador: The Beginning of the End by David George Richards

Chapter Two

  The Ambassador’s Staff

  Gusta went down to the kitchen where her husband was busy preparing the evening meal. Didi Albatus looked up when he saw her. Like all Edenite males, he was much taller and broader than the female, and his features were more pronounced. His eyes were brown and set under heavy brows, his nose large and his jaw line square. Short red hair was just visible under his white hat. Even for an Edenite male, Didi was unusually tall. But despite his immense size, he was an exquisite cook.

  “What now?” he said, cleaning his hands on a white towel he took from the large square kitchen table. He saw the look on his wife’s face and quickly added, “What’s the matter?”

  Gusta looked distraught. She held a hand to her mouth and could barely get her words out.

  “He’s asked me to close the Embassy, to dismiss all the staff. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Didi put down the towel and leaned his weight on the table using both hands. “Oh, I see,” he sighed. “Then it’s happened.”

  In reply, the tears welled up in Gusta’s eyes. Didi quickly went to her. He grabbed her in his arms and hugged her.

  “Don’t cry, my sweet. It’ll be alright, I’m sure it will.”

  In response to his comforting, Gusta began to sob. Didi dragged a couple of chairs out from under the table.

  “Come on, sit down,” he said, and quickly sat down next to her when she complied. “It might not be as bad as we think,” he added, squeezing her hand.

  “It is, Didi!” Gusta burst out between sobs. “You know Li-Sen. He wouldn’t close the Embassy for anything less than war!”

  “But it can be re-opened!”

  “He’s asked me to dismiss the staff!” Gusta repeated. “Not just send them home! It’s permanent! It’s the end!”

  Gusta finished by bursting into complete tears. She collapsed on the table, cradling her head in her arms. The only thing Didi could do was rub her back and give her a handkerchief that he pulled from his back pocket. She took it gratefully.

  Didi looked around at his kitchen as Gusta cried. He was going to miss it. He had enjoyed working here.

  When Didi came to the Embassy he had imagined he was going to enter a world of interstellar politics, where Embassy officials would be continually coming and going through the portal, where Ambassadors and Trade Representatives from far off worlds would arrive eagerly to attend meetings with the Edenite Government. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  The Tun-Sho-Lok had a very casual approach to politics. They never seemed to be bothered by the same sort of political intrigue that dogged other Embassies and Consulates that grew up around the site of the portal. There was never any spying or manoeuvring in order to gain important trading agreements or the latest technologies, no one came or went with secret documents, and meetings with the Leaders of the Edenite Government seemed more to do with how many Lece Cakes Prili Alther could eat during the discussion.

  It was all a bit of a letdown, but Didi had got used to the casual approach and had quickly learned to like it. That had been seven years ago, when Gusta was already on staff as a secretary to one of the Tun-Sho-Lok officials. Even then there were very few Tun-Sho-Lok nationals at the Embassy. And as the years passed, their numbers slowly dwindled until Li-Sen-Tot was the only one left. And now even he was going.

  Didi looked around his kitchen once more. Yes, he was going to miss it.

  “We’ll sell up and take the children into the country,” he announced.

  Gusta raised her head. She looked at Didi through tear filled eyes, dabbing at her cheeks with the handkerchief. She had stopped crying but didn’t say anything, so Didi shrugged.

  “It’s what we always said we’d do,” he added.

  Gusta sniffed and continued drying her face. “Do you think we’ll be safe?”

  “You should know that better than me. You handle his disks. That courier who comes through the portal always brings the Diplomatic Bags straight to you. It’s always the same man, he’s been doing it for years.” Didi suddenly paused and wracked his brains. “What’s his name? I’ve forgotten his name.”

  Gusta smiled wryly as she handed Didi back his handkerchief. “Ro-An-Lee.”

  “That was it! Ro-An! I don’t think I’ve ever heard him string more than three words together—oh yes! Once! And that was when we had to give him a sample for genetic coding when the war started!” He folded up his handkerchief and stuffed it back in his pocket. “No wonder I couldn’t remember his name.”

  Gusta’s smile grew wider. “He’s a she.”

  Didi raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, that just goes to show you how little he—she—and I ever spoke!”

  “Never mind about Ro-An. She’s a courier, she’s not supposed to gossip. Li-Sen is different. He may play the innocent but he’s no fool. Most of the correspondence I see wouldn’t interest the news media. He knows that, that’s why he allows me to open the Diplomatic Bags. If there’s anything sensitive on those disks, they must be hidden or scrambled in some way. Either that, or he has an alternative route to receive sensitive information. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had his own portal. It’s probably in the drawing room. Jutlam City is over a hundred miles from the coast and yet I’ve been in that drawing room on more than one occasion and been sure that I could smell the sea.”

  “Have you asked him about it?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. But he must have a personal portal, because if he didn’t, they would never have allowed him to stay here on his own.”

  “Maybe there isn’t any of them left,” Didi suggested.

  Now it was Gusta’s turn to look wide-eyed in surprise. “That’s silly!”

  In contrast, Didi began to look more serious as he leaned forward and tapped out his points on the table.

  “Is it? The newscasts have been full of the war for months. It’s always the same. The Keruh go from victory to victory without anyone being able to stop them. The Atlantians are too backward, the Klysanthians too weak, and the Tun-Sho-Lok themselves—well, where are they?” He sat back and held out his hands. “We’re in their Embassy and except for Li-Sen and that courier we never see any.”

  “I see his correspondence. He talks with his government on Lokana all the time.”

  Didi leaned forward again. “You see what he lets you see—you just said that!” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but he wouldn’t exchange messages with a government that didn’t exist, would he, even if it was trivial information? I mean, there’s no point, is there? Nobody cares, I told you.”

  “They’d care if Li-Sen stopped talking to his government.”

  “And where does Ro-An come from and go back to if it isn’t Lokana?”

  “She could come and go from absolutely anywhere. How would we know any different?”

  Gusta looked at Didi in surprise. “But how could they keep the fall of Lokana a secret? It’s too big, too terrible to contemplate!”

  “They invented the Ring, Gusta! How do we know what they can and can’t do?”

  Gusta let her arms rest on the table and stared at her husband. She suddenly felt quite cold.

  As the Secretary to the Ambassador, Gusta had always been conscious that security in the Embassy was of a low priority. But that was the philosophy of the Tun-Sho-Lok. They shared their knowledge, their technology, access to the Ring, everything. They were just happy to visit these new worlds, to mix with the people, to see and experience the art and culture of other civilisations.

  Gusta had heard it said on many occasions that there were more Tun-Sho-Lok living on other worlds than there were on their own home world of Lokana. They came to look and to open the portals of the Ring to all. They took nothing in return. Nothing was hidden or denied. It was why all the civilisations connected to the Ring had flourished. It was also why reporters had no need to gather outside the Embassy gates pestering the Ambassador and his staff for inform
ation about the war. It was all freely available on the computer net at the Embassy news site. Good or bad, it was all there. All you had to do was go and get it.

  But even a society with such a laid back philosophy as the Tun-Sho-Lok had to have a modicum of security. There must have been some correspondence that Li-Sen and his government exchanged that they didn’t want others to see, especially now. The strategy of war, the planning and preparation, this she could understand they would wish to hide. But she had never considered that they might be able to hide much more. News of the war, the battles and the losses, none of this was restricted. And news like this was always corroborated by news from other sources. That it might all be false, that the Tun-Sho-Lok could be that devious, that they could achieve the sort of control and manipulation that allowed them to hide the fall of their own world so easily shook her confidence and trust in Li-Sen-Tot more than would his open murder of a child in front of her.

  “You think Lokana has fallen to the Keruh and they’re all dead,” she said simply.

  Didi sat back in his chair. “All I know is that the stuff that’s important is the stuff that you and everybody else doesn’t get to see. But I bet that courier, Ro-An, knows the truth. Each time she comes here she sits in this kitchen waiting for the Diplomatic Bag to be filled before she goes back through the portal. It’s been the same ever since she took over the courier service. She’s never been talkative, but at least she used to smile and nod when she drank her coffee. At least she acknowledged me. But not anymore. Now she has the look on her face of a woman already dead. There’s no emotion in her, none at all. Why is that? Hmm? Why is that?”

  Gusta nodded in a combination of resignation and acceptance. She was suddenly very calm. “We should go tonight. We’ll tell the children as soon as we go home.”

  Bedi was excited and breathless as he ran into the refectory. He burst through the door and slithered to a halt on the polished floor.

  “They’re here!” he shouted, and then promptly ran straight back out again.

  There was a roar as every student in the refectory jumped to their feet, knocking back their chairs as they ran for the exit. But not everyone was eager to follow Bedi.

  Tipi Albatus got up slowly and was almost knocked aside by the rush. He ran a hand through his red hair and looked around as everyone ran passed him. He made no move to follow them. He wasn’t sure what to do.

  Everyone knew that the government had signed a treaty with the Keruh; it had been all over the lunchtime news broadcasts. And anyone with a personal communicator had had it stuck to their ear ever since as they waited for the first sighting of the Keruh Host. Everyone wanted to see them; they were so alien, so strange, not like people at all. Tipi also felt curious, but he knew that this wasn’t right.

  Bibi Timoner, his best friend since he came to the College, suddenly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him forward.

  “Come on, Tipi, or we’ll miss the view!”

  Tipi found himself being dragged along. He didn’t put up much resistance, but he felt nervous without knowing exactly why.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this! Mum says that they’re wicked, that wherever they go they kill everyone.”

  “Oh, never mind what your mum says! She works at the Tunnies Embassy! She’s bound to say that sort of thing!”

  “But what if she’s right?”

  Bibi looked back at him and smiled. “Then we’ll run even faster the other way!”

  They were now running down the corridor after the rest of the students. More came out of the classrooms. Through the open doors, the teachers could be seen gathering with more students by the windows. They were all staring out at the road.

  Tipi suddenly dug his heels in and brought his friend to a sudden halt. Bibi looked back at him in annoyance.

  “What now?”

  Tipi pointed to the open door of another classroom. “How about we take a look first before we get too close? There’ll be a crowd by the road anyway.”

  Bibi nodded. “Okay!”

  The two of them ran into the classroom and headed for the windows. There they joined a teacher and several other students. Tipi stood next to a girl, wedging himself between her and one of the tables. She glanced around at him in annoyance, pushing him slightly. Although she was probably older than him, Tipi was already bigger than her, and her shove hardly moved him. Bibi jumped on the table and stuck his tongue out at her. She turned away in disgust.

  The College of Learning was in the residential part of Jutlam City, near to the parks where sporting facilities were available. The refectory was on the ground floor of a building that was set back from the road on a slight hill. Standing at the windows, they had a good view of the road and the parkland beyond.

  Tipi looked down the road that led to Elengrad. He could see students pouring out of the main entrance. They all ran to the edge of the road and gathered there. Beyond them in the distance, something came.

  Figures clad in black appeared, tiny at first, but then growing larger and larger as they ran up the road toward them. The light traffic on the road came to a sudden halt, cars swerving to the side to avoid the ungainly figures that rushed toward them. There was wave after wave of them, like a black tide rippling along the road, filling it from edge to edge. They soon enveloped the stopped cars, swallowing them up as they ran around them. Some even ran over the cars, denting the roofs. The ungainly figures ran on, the reason for their almost clumsy movements becoming clear when the first of them reached the College. They ran sideways with a strange gait, their bodies all misshapen, with a large hump on one side that bobbed up and down. Or was it their heads?

  Tipi tried to remember what his mother had told him.

  “They have small heads because their brains are in a bony hump on their backs. It makes them hard to kill. They have three toes on each foot and three fingers on each hand. They are asymmetrical, that is their left side is bigger than their right. I don’t know why. They have an exoskeleton and they breathe through holes in different parts of their bodies. They live in a hive like society split into family clans or tribes, each ruled by a dominant male. The males fight while the females do everything else. In fact the females never come out of the hive, only the males.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was right.

  A horde of black armoured creatures poured down the road. They were bigger than a man, but they were not men. Their heads were small and held only their eyes and large mandibles. They had no faces. The shiny black armoured uniform they wore blended in with the dull brown of their armoured skin, its joints as exaggerated as the joints in their legs and arms. And in their three fingered hands they each gripped a laser rifle and a double bladed axe. The smaller arm and hand held the rifle while the larger arm and hand held the great axe.

  The sight was not what anyone expected.

  The girl next to Tipi gasped. “They look ghastly!”

  Bibi pointed out the window. “Look at the cowards!”

  The students by the side of the road had hastily moved back, some of them were even running back into the building. There was an element of panic as the Keruh Host drew level with the College and began to stamp passed. One or two of the black clad figures ran on to the pavement, and some of the students fell over in their haste to retreat. One was almost run over by a Keruh as he scampered out of the way. The Keruh who almost trod on him swung his axe over the heads of the others nearby. There were screams and more of the students fell over. Most of them were now in headlong flight back into the building. And those that couldn’t get in just ran away, trying to get as much distance between them and the Keruh.

  Tipi was glad he was on the inside. Even from this distance the Keruh looked evil. There was no brightness in them, no hint of warmth or tenderness. They frightened him.

  The Keruh Host filled the road. Some of the ones running by now held heavier weapons instead of the smaller rifle and great axe. But the rifle and axe were still to be s
een in abundance. Warrior after Warrior ran by, a massed column of black clad and misshapen forms that stretched into the distance as they trudged on toward the centre of Jutlam City. But for all their awkwardness, they ran without tiring, a relentless heaving mass.

  The teacher shook her head sadly. “Keruh Warriors on Eden. I never thought I’d see this day.”

  The office building was in the business centre of Jutlam City. The atmosphere in the office suite on the fifth floor was the same as in all the offices in the building that day. It was busy and loud. One of the women sitting at a cluttered desk was talking heatedly into a phone. She was young and pretty, her light brown hair flowing over her shoulders. Her green eyes flashed as she spoke into the phone.

  “Look, Kiki, I know my mother! The news is all over the office. If the Embassy is closed, Mum and Dad will head for the hills, and they won’t like the idea of my staying behind!”

  Kiki’s voice sounded anxious. “But you can’t just go!”

  Breda Albatus held on tightly to the phone receiver. “It’s no use telling me what I can and can’t do! They’ll already be packing!”

  “Then don’t go home!”

  Breda saw her supervisor looking at her and pointing at her watch in an obvious gesture. Breda gripped the phone more tightly and looked away as if she hadn’t seen her. She continued talking and her voice took on a sarcastic tone. “Oh? And where am I supposed to stay? Your apartment I suppose?”

  “And why not? We’re engaged aren’t we? We’re adults aren’t we? Why can’t you stay at my apartment?

  “Because Dad will flatten you!”

  Kiki paused while he contemplated that fate, and Breda saw the annoyed look on her supervisor’s face as she came toward her. She had been on this call for far too long already.

  “Look, Kiki, I’ll have to go. I’ll ring you later.” She could still hear Kiki’s protests as she put the phone down. Then she looked up at her supervisor and smiled very falsely.

  “Alright! Alright! I’m working! I’m working!”

  The supervisor sighed and shook her head before turning away. Breda dropped the smile and got back to her work. There was enough documentation and paperwork piling up on her desk to keep two people occupied for days. She began to work through it all, doing things automatically while her mind whizzed with the news of the day.

  The Eden Government had signed a treaty with the Keruh. The Keruh Host had landed at Elengrad. They were now at war with the Tun-Sho-Lok.

  Breda didn’t know what to think. It was the most gigantic event of her whole young life, and she was right in the middle of it. Should she stay in Jutlam City with Kiki? Or should she run for the hills with her brother and parents?

  She knew what her mother and father would want. She knew what they would say when she told them she wanted to stay. But it wasn’t that they didn’t trust Kiki. Her parents knew him and liked him; it was just that they were always over-protective with her. They would want her to go with them, Breda was sure of it.

  But Breda liked the idea of staying. Of course there might be an element of danger, but Kiki would look after her. This was history in the making, how could she think of running away? No, she had to stay. But how was she going to convince her mother and father of the idea?

  Kiki Nomanta stared at the receiver of his telephone. She had done it again. Why was it she always put the phone down before he had finished the conversation? It was a habit that was beginning to drive him crazy. He almost thought about phoning her up again, just to tell her how he felt. But he didn’t. Instead he sighed and put the phone down softly.

  Two years.

  Yes, it would be two years this autumn since he first met Breda Albatus. It had been a very different two years compared to all the others of his life. Until then his mind had been filled with the urgency of finding a female companion. It wasn’t that he was unpleasing to the eye, he had good features, with blue eyes and fair hair, and his body was lean and strong. Like all Edenites, he was tall and large, and his brow heavy. At seven-foot-eight he was about average for a man of his age. Visually, he should have had no problems with women. It was just that he could never get it right when he spoke to them.

  Was it shyness or pride? It was true that he feared being put down, but that wasn’t the reason that often stopped him making an approach. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the courage to just go up to a girl he liked and start talking. It was just that he never knew what to say, and if he did say anything, it always came out wrong. Kiki had learned through bitter experience that the best he could hope for was to make a girl laugh. But that wasn’t enough, was it?

  And then came Breda. It was typical that she should turn up when he was least expecting it. He was so busy worrying about his argument with his father and the meeting with the senior partners of his law firm that thoughts of women had gone completely from his mind. That in itself was a remarkable event, but what was to follow was even more so.

  He was hurrying across the square at lunchtime. He remembered it clearly. It was a sunny day—weren’t all the days sunny that year?—and he had eaten his lunch at his father’s restaurant like he always did. And like always, his father had gone on at him about not following in the family business. What was wrong with being a cook? Why did he never take an interest? Kiki tried to explain that he didn’t like cooking, but his father never understood. And like usual one habitual topic led to the other more annoying one. Why wasn’t he married yet, and when was he going to start a family? Kiki never wanted to admit that he was trying like mad and just getting it wrong, so it always sounded like he was dragging his feet on purpose. And Titi Nomanta was beginning to think that his son had some sort of sexual problem. And on this day he decided to say something about it. Kiki was both angry and embarrassed. They ended up having an argument for absolutely the wrong reasons, until Kiki gave up and left. And as he hurried across the square he was fuming with the idea that his thoughts about his argument with his father would distract him in the meeting that afternoon. It was such an important meeting; his promotion probably depended on it. He didn’t see Breda at all.

  Breda was about to have her lunch in the square. She was heading for her favourite spot with sandwiches and coffee. She was one of many people who did the same. Kiki often stared wistfully at the young women sitting on the benches eating their lunches in the sun. He would watch them talking and laughing, and would think of what might be. Today he didn’t see any of them.

  Breda was nine years younger than Kiki. She was bright, beautiful and vivacious. She was also a foot shorter and much more lightly built, and the impact knocked her flying in an explosion of sandwiches and coffee.

  Kiki was horribly apologetic, while Breda was horribly angry. She had a fiery temperament that matched her flashing green eyes, and being doused in hot coffee and having the contents of her lunch smeared all over her didn’t result in a restrained response. Breda screamed, shouted, kicked and punched Kiki, and despite her much smaller size, the ferocity of her attack got the better of him, and the two of them ended up on the ground. Kiki was never a one for violence, he was generally good natured and quiet. Some would even call him soft, so it wasn’t surprising that he ended up underneath her as she was trying to beat him to death.

  They both got arrested.

  By the time they appeared in front of the judge, they both looked like they had been in a car crash. Breda’s smart dress was torn and stained, she had lost a shoe and her hair was all matted with the dried coffee. She was a mess. Kiki’s neat business suit was also torn down one sleeve and his collar had been pulled loose from his shirt. He had a black eye and a split lip and he looked dirty and dishevelled. He was also very subdued and dismayed. In contrast, Breda kept looking at him with flashing eyes that told him the war was not yet over.

  Before the judge could say anything, Kiki had taken all the blame. He had said how it was all totally his fault, how Breda was the innocent party, and that he took full a
nd complete responsibility for what had happened. He even offered to pay for the damages to Breda’s clothes. Despite his pleas the judge fined them both and dismissed them with a warning that next time would result in a night in jail.

  Kiki paid both their fines, and it was then, when Breda was staring at him with those flashing green eyes, that she had asked the question.

  “Are you Titi Nomanta’s son?”

  Kiki had been totally surprised and confused. He hadn’t even noticed their names being said in the court. “Yes. How do you know my dad?”

  “My dad is Didi Albatus. He used to work for your dad.”

  “Didi?” Kiki remembered the pastry cook and his skinny little daughter. He stared with wide eyes at the grown up young woman she had become. “You mean you were the little—”

  Breda had smiled broadly. “That’s right! And you were the pain in the arse son who didn’t like the kitchen!”

  It was the first time Kiki had seen Breda smile, and it blew his head off. The rest, as they usually say, was history.

  Breda had asked him out. No, actually, she had demanded that he take her out in payment for her spilled lunch. And while he had listened and been content to just look at her, marvelling at her shapely body and beautiful face, she had talked endlessly. She was lively, loud and animated, and she filled his world with light. From then on his life revolved around her, and it seemed that he only lived while he was with her.

  Kiki always accepted how lucky he was, despite the fact that he had missed his promotion that year. But Breda was hard work. She made demands on him and expected things that he often found it difficult to provide. And in return she often treated him almost casually. Most times he would just let things she did that annoyed him pass, but occasionally he would not. Then they would argue, and their arguments were often fiery. Breda would lash out, and he would sometimes hit back, although he had slowly learned to restrain his anger. But whether he hit back or just took her blows, there would still be screams, tears and tantrums. And afterward they would both be sorry, and they would make up with a softness that made a mockery of what went before. He would look into those bright, tearful green eyes and feel his heart melting. Was that love? Kiki only knew one thing. The idea that Breda might have to leave Jutlam City with her parents tore at his heart. If she left, he would die without her.