The Prophecy, On the Planet, Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Kaleem looked at the other people who had joined the special meet of the City Executives. All of the young Zandrian entrepreneurs considered to have made a significant contribution to society were waiting for their awards. Several of his students had put Kaleem’s name forward.

‘You deserve it,’ said Alistare Rogerin. ‘You’ve really got us all speaking so many other languages. Speaking them well, at that, in such a short time.’

‘Oh,’ said Kaleem. ‘Languages aren’t difficult really. Just hard work.’

That was so true. He didn’t, feel though, that he could go into a discussion of what really mattered. It was making the move towards the other that really counted. That was easier here on Zandra. They didn’t seem to have the Terrestran  unjustified fear of strangers.

Kaleem sipped his modified frega juice. It didn’t have quite the kick that his first glass had had, all those weeks ago. Yet it was still mildly pleasant. Perhaps he was getting used to it. It could be, of course, that they had watered it down so that people stayed in control.

It was some place, the Executive Palace. A great sweeping staircase led up to the landing where the Executives would later sit. There were holoscreens showing mirrors which reflected mirrors in the screens opposite. There were holograms of candles. The lights danced and reflected back and forth in the false mirrors. The floors looked as if they were made of genuine marble, but Alistare had assured him that they were only hololayers.

Everyone was dressed in formal Zandrian tunics. Kaleem had thought his own stylish enough. Here, though, there were so many more that were even more sophisticated. He didn’t feel uncomfortable, though, in the stiff, dark blue silky material. The formal wear here was so much more comfortable than back at home. On the few occasions that he had worn it on Terrestra, Kaleem had felt that he could not move. Here, the clothes were a smooth fit. He could move with ease. He knew, too, that he looked very good.

‘So, who are all these people?’ he asked Alistare.

‘Oh, just clever so-and-sos, who like yourself, have done something extraordinary in their area.’

But I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary, thought Kaleem. I’ve just put into practice what all those months of training that Razjosh taught me.

Suddenly, a group of droid musicians began to play an entrance march. Everybody turned and looked as the tall doors on the upper floor opened, and the Executives walked in slowly to take their seats upon the balcony. They were wearing the normal Zandrian formal tunic, but a cape of contrasting colours hung from their shoulders.

‘Each colour represents a different discipline,’ whispered Alistare. ‘That deep crimson is your area - languages and story.’

Kaleem looked closely at the Languages and Story Executive as he passed. He was a tall man, with dark hair and pale skin which could have almost been Terrestran.

‘I expect he’ll come and talk to you afterwards,’ said Alistare.

The Executives were now almost all up on the balcony. Suddenly, there seemed to be a disturbance by the doorway. Most people turned round to see what was going on. Kaleem blushed deeply when he saw who it was.

‘Look, it’s Tulla Watkins,’ whispered Alistare.

You don’t need to tell me that, thought Kaleem. I know who she is. Only too well.

Kaleem watched Tulla make her way into the room. She looked as gorgeous as ever. Her hair was soft and shiny. The rich chocolate brown silky tunic really showed it off well.

‘She’s quite a looker, isn’t she?’ said Alistare.

Oh yes, she’s that all right, thought Kaleem. ‘Not bad,’ he said, turning away from Alistare, conscious that he was blushing again.

‘She’s one of the diplomatic workers,’ he said. ‘It’s her job to negotiate deals with other planets, so that we can obtain the ingredients we need for our medicines. She’s just come back from a mission to Zendan. She had to learn Intel Flemish to speak to them. Pity she wasn’t one of your students.’

Kaleem did not answer his friend. This was all so stupid. If he’d only known that, she would have been the perfect person to work with. There was no reason why he shouldn’t have known. He could have so easily looked up her profile. But the Black Tulpen incident had made him panic so much then. He didn’t dare get involved with a girl - not until the Peace Child mission was over. Goodness knows when that would be.

Tulla caught his eye. She blushed and looked away. Kaleem watched her disappear into a crowd of people who were standing near the doorway.

‘Hey,’ whispered Alistare. ‘I think she fancies you. Did you see that? She was staring at you and then when she saw you looking at her, she couldn’t get away fast enough. You’re in with a chance there, I would say.’

Kaleem grunted.

‘Look they’re nearly there now,’ he said, nodding towards the Executives, the last of whom were now taking their seats on the balcony.

A final fanfare sounded and the Executives bowed to the Chief Executive. The crowds in the hall below clapped. The Chief Executive made a speech. Fortunately, it did not go on for too long. Kaleem watched the other young entrepreneurs go up to receive their awards. One by one, they floated on a hoverpad up to the balcony and a gold coloured badge was fused to their tunics. The Chief Executive shook their hand and managed to ask each one a question.

Kaleem did not enjoy floating up on the hoverpad. It felt so unstable as it wobbled through the air. He was sure he was going to fall off at any second. He hated the way everyone was staring at him. At last, though, he reached the Chief Executive.

‘I hear that you are most proficient at languages and can even get others to learn quickly,’ he said to Kaleem. ‘What is your secret?’

‘I think I was trained well myself,’ mumbled Kaleem.

For a split second, the Executive seemed to stare at him.

He doesn’t believe me, thought Kaleem.

The older man smiled. ‘Well, you must have had a very good teacher that’s all I can say.’

Seconds later, Kaleem was floating back down.

‘You were a long time,’ said Alistare. ‘What in Zandra were you talking to him about?’

‘Oh, he just wanted to know about language learning,’ muttered Kaleem.

‘Perhaps you’ve got a new customer, then,’ said Alistare.

The presentation ceremony drew to a close shortly afterwards. The Executives came down from the balcony, moving this time informally and without music. The robot waiters came around with trays of food and drink, and despite the mellow music playing in the background, the volume of the talking got louder and louder. Soon, it was very difficult to hear or make yourself heard.

Kaleem felt a tap on his shoulder. He jumped, and then turned round to see the Executive with the crimson robe, only now the robe was no longer pinned to his shoulders, but was draped over his arm. A robot waiter came up to them. The Executive handed his robe to the machine and waved it away.

‘Well Detran Malthus,’ said the Executive. ‘I hear you have done great things.’

Kaleem did not reply. Even though this name had been used just a half an hour ago, he still could not get used to it. He knew Razjosh had been right to insist. Kaleem Malkendy was just too Terrestran.

‘Marek Ransen, by the way,’ said the Executive. He held his hand out ready to receive the Zandrian handshake. Kaleem pushed his hand forward, a gap between his ring finger and his middle finger. Marek Ransen slotted his hand into the space.

‘I really have been most impressed with what I have heard so far. You must come by to the Executive Office Suite some time and tell me all about it. In fact, I’ll send an official invite.’

‘Thank you,’ Kaleem managed to mutter.

‘You know how important he is,’ Alistare mouthed to Kaleem. ‘Get a grip. Say something clever.’

‘Ah’ said Ransen. ‘Here comes my son. I’m sure you’d like to meet him. He’s about your age.’

A young man with reddish hair and a face covered with freckles was making his way towards them. He was about the same height as Kaleem and Kaleem guessed about the same age. He was grinning widely.

‘Petro Ransen, Detran Malthus,’ said Marek Ransen.

Petro held out his hand, finger spread apart, ready to receive Kaleem’s palm.

‘I hope my Dad’s not boring you,’ he said.

‘Of course I’m not,’ said Marek. ‘And to avoid any danger of doing so, I’ll leave you young people to your own devices. I’m sorry, I don’t know you name…?’ He turned towards Alistare.

‘Alistare Rogerin, number corps,’ replied Alistare.

‘Well, a good mixture then - mathematician, a health specialist and a language expert,’ said Marek. He waved and made his way through the crowd.

‘Hey, these olds just can’t take the pace, can they?’ said Petro. ‘Do you fancy going on to a frega dive later?’

‘Good idea!’ said Alistare, grinning.

‘I don’t know…,’ said Kaleem. He was tired. Keeping up this new identity,  constantly speaking a language which was not his own, and having to be careful all the time was wearing him out. A couple of hours in a frega dive would be another two hours of strain, two hours less sleep and he was busy the next day.

On the other hand, Petro would be a useful contact. He worked for the health authorities. He was so friendly and easygoing, too. He was just the sort of person Razjosh had said he should try to make a good connection with.

Petro’s face suddenly clouded over.

‘Oh, oh,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten. I’d promised to see my girlfriend after this do. She’s just got back from a mission. Sorry folks, we’ll have to make it another time.’

Petro grinned again.

‘You’re something else, though,’ he said, looking at Kaleem. ‘Tu’ sure could have done with your help. I’ll have to get her to get in touch. She has to learn new languages all the time - the translators just aren’t diplomatic enough. I’ll be in touch. I will, honest.’

He waved and set off towards the doors.

Kaleem watched him pause in front of the tall doors. Petro’s face lit up. Someone in a chocolate coloured silk tunic was pushing her way through the crowd. Kaleem’s heart skipped a beat as he saw who it was. Petro hugged her and then planted a kiss firmly on her lips. They went though the double doors, arms around each other’s waists. Of course, Tu’ - Tulla.

That could have been him. If only he didn’t have this important job to do. Why couldn’t he be doing normal things? At his age he should be getting to know members of the opposite sex - and he should be getting to know them quite well. It was just so annoying.

‘Hey, executive entrepreneur,’ said Alistare. ‘Why so sad? This is supposed to be a day for celebration.’

If only you knew, thought Kaleem.

It was just so unfair. Still, at least, he supposed, it solved one problem.  There would be no more wishing or hoping. He could just get on with what he was meant to do. At least now he had got a good contact with the health workers. He’d done it without actually seeking anyone out, just like Razjosh had told him to. Besides, if he hadn’t had to do this important job, he would have never even seen her in the first place.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘I’m just tired. I’m going home. See you soon’

He turned and made his way to the doors.

‘Couple of party-poopers,’ he heard Alistare mumble. Even so, he and Alistare walked out of the exit portal together