The Tower, Contacting Terrestra

 

Kaleem’s journey home was entirely uneventful. He could not understand why Edmundson had got so agitated … unless it was something to do with that strange droid. He dreaded to think what that might be.

Marijam was out when Kaleem got back. Nazaret, however, was not. He could do without this, he really could. Yes, it was totally illogical but it was there: he was uncomfortable around his father, even though he actually liked the man and this was the very same father he wondered about for years before he eventually met him, seventeen years after he’d been born.

Nazaret was working at the communal dataserve in the lounge. Why did he have to be there? Why wasn’t he working in his office downstairs?

“Mum gone out?” asked Kaleem.

“Yes, she had a meet,” replied Nazaret. “We may have something to celebrate later. Looks as if they have the credits for the artificial photosynthesis project. If that goes ahead, we’ll have this planet looking like Terrestra in no time.”

“Oh, good,” mumbled Kaleem.

“Just give me a couple of secs – ah here it is,” Nazaret looked up from the dataserve and grinned at Kaleem. “This is all in Wordtext and I’m so slow at it. I need the expert help of my one and only son.”

Kaleem cringed. He looked at the screen. Oh, it was easy to read, and not all that important. It was just about the expected success rate of farmed acorns’ ability to germinate and produce oak trees. Well, they knew that already and Nazaret had taken it much further.

“Thanks,” said Nazaret, after Kaleem had finished. “And how was your meet?”

Now we’re getting to it, thought Kaleem. You’re just being nosey.

He told Nazaret all that Edmundson had said and all about Emmerline.

“Ah yes,” said Nazaret. “The famous Emmerline. Now I really would like to meet that droid one day.”

No you wouldn’t, thought Kaleem. She’s a tart and you’re a married man. Married to my mum, in fact.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Nazaret continued. “Don’t you think it would be better to get some new people here? That bunch is already committed enough, don’t you think? It’s other Terrestrans who need to be educated.”

“It’s not what Edmundson said,” replied Kaleem. “Look I’d better get on.”

“Don’t work too hard,” Nazaret called as Kaleem made his way to his room.

I wish he wouldn’t interfere, thought Kaleem. Yet he knew Nazaret was right.

As soon as he walked through the doorway into his room the dataserve switched itself on. The machine was loading up before Kaleem could even think what he wanted to do.

“Communicate with Terrestra?” asked his own younger voice. He really must get that voice changed. And he really must find out a bit more about how these machines did it.

“Yes,” replied Kaleem. “Razjosh Elder, please.”

Within seconds Razjosh’s face was filling the screen. Just two years ago that would never have happened. Zandra would not have been able to communicate with Terrestra that easily. We must be doing something right after all, thought Kaleem.

“Ah, Kaleem,” said Razjosh. “Good to hear from you. Can I be of any help?”

Kaleem explained about the meet with Don Edmundson, about Emmerline’s suggestions and about Nazaret’s reaction.

“So, I think he might be right,” said Kaleem. “Shouldn’t it be Terrestrans who’ve never been here before who come here? And ones that need educating. Those friends of mine don’t so much.”

“Or would you consider that it might be too much in one go for most people? It may even be quite a lot for these friends of yours, despite their openness,” said Razjosh. Then he smiled. “Though I expect Mz Sandi Depra will cope admirably. As actually, I suspect, will Saratina.” Razjosh suddenly looked serious. “But Rozia. Rozia Laurence. How will that be for you?” 

Kaleem wished the elder hadn’t mentioned that. He couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. It would be just too painful having her here if they couldn’t be together.

“Is she well enough to travel? How is she? Have you heard from her?” Razjosh continued.

“Yes, yes, she’s fine now,” replied Kaleem. “Fully recovered.”

The elder’s eyes lit up. “You’re in touch?”

If only, thought Kaleem. “Not really,” he mumbled. “I’ve been watching her, though.” That sounded terrible. He felt himself blush. He tried to work out what Razjosh made of that but the elder’s face was like stone. He was completely unreadable.   

“Take care with her,” he said. “And take care of yourself.”

“So you think I should ask that delegation to come then?” asked Kaleem, changing the subject.

“I do. I do indeed,” replied Razjosh. “There is one thing, though.”

“Oh?” said Kaleem.

“You really shouldn’t be relying on me for advice,” said Razjosh. “I shouldn’t be here now and goodness knows what might happen at any time. I can’t imagine I’ve got that much time left.”

Kaleem’s mouth went dry and his heart began to pound. “There’s nothing wrong is there?” he asked.

“No, no, no. Nothing specific.” said Razjosh. “But I am getting on bit.”

That was a relief.

“You do have your father there. You can talk to him. And there is also your grandfather. But,” Razjosh sighed, “a Peace Child really does need to be able to keep his own counsel.”

Kaleem couldn’t think what to say.

“Come,” said Razjosh. “Not so glum. I’ll always be delighted to hear your news. And I won’t be beyond offering a snippet or two of my collected wisdom, now and then, for what it’s worth. But you can do it, you know. On your own. So, take care, Kaleem. Good bye.”

“Good bye,” whispered Kaleem as the screen went blank.      

Well, I’d better get on with it, he thought. The easiest would be Sandi Depra. Definitely. Sandi’s face appeared on the screen within seconds of Kaleem calling her up.

“Hey, Funny Head,” she called. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” said Kaleem. What was she calling him funny head for? Her own today was frizzy and blond with thin pink strips of straight hair that had been wired to stand upright.

“So how may I help?” she asked.  

Kaleem told her about Edmundson’s suggestion.

“You mean I get a second chance to come to Zandra?” she said. “After I missed out the first time. Mind you, the Supercraft trip was good. Even the scary bits.”

“You did get to Zandra eventually,” said Kaleem.

“Yeah, after all the fun was over,” replied Sandi. “You’d done it all by then. And we were only there for such a short time. This time we’d really matter. Count me in!”

 It was good to see Sandi so enthusiastic about the project. Mind you, she always was enthusiastic. About everything. She never seemed all that serious really. It was difficult to work out how she had become head of health.

“Well that’s good,” said Kaleem. “One down, five to go.”

“Yeah, Rozia,” said Sandi. “That’s a tough one. Do you think she’ll come.”

“Oh yes!” said Kaleem. Rozia would always do what was right – no matter how much pain it caused her. He didn’t think he could bear it though, the pain of being so near to her and not being able to be with her, knowing that she now belonged to someone else.

“Hey, come on Funny Head, cheer up,” said Sandi. “You’ll do it. You know you can.”

“If you say so, said Kaleem. He just didn’t know how and he wished somebody could tell him.

“Way to go! We’re off to Zandra!” cried Sandi. “Woo-ooh!” She twirled round on the spot and then turned back to grin at Kaleem. “Keep me informed, Peace Child babe! Tata for now.”

Kaleem wished she had stayed a bit longer. She did always manage to cheer him up. In fact, he was having some difficulty stopping himself from laughing. He would have to calm down before he moved on to the others.   

The others were remarkably easy to talk to as well in the end. None of them hesitated. Saratina was really excited though it was impossible to tell what she was saying.

“Om zanna? Eelee? M iarateena? On oopooraf? Es! Es!”

Kaleem guessed by the way she was clapping her hands and jumping up and down that the answer was yes. The vigorous nodding of the head was a further clue.

“I take it that means “yes”?” he asked

The jumping, clapping and nodding became even more vigorous.

“Ank oo aleey!” she said. Then the screen went blank. Ah! So the Z Zone wasn’t quite up to speed yet.

Pierre LaFontaine was at a meet so his communicator was on standby. Kaleem had to talk to his partner Stuart Davidson instead.

“I’m sure Pierre would love to come to Zandra,” he said. “He often talks about how envious he was of you when he knew you were leaving Terrestra. And of how he envies you being involved in all of this diplomatic work.”

He’s envious? thought Kaleem. I’d swap him any day. Well apart from having Stuart Davidson as a partner.

“Well, what about you?” asked Pierre.  

“Yeah,” replied Stuart. “Yeah, I’d like to come.”

“You have changed!” said Kaleem. A bit different from your dad, he thought.

“Yeah, well, you know, my dad had got it wrong,” said Stuart Davidson. “He really thought it was right and it was better for everybody on Terrestra if we didn’t mix with other people.”

 I guess he did, thought Kaleem.

“Do you know the funny thing is,” Stuart continued, “it was actually reading Wordtext and some of the stuff I then read that made me start thinking a bit differently?”   

Kaleem laughed. “Well I’m glad I thought of that punishment up for you,” he said.

“Oh, yes, it was a punishment all right,” replied Stuart. “Bloomin’ hard work. But I’m glad I can do it now.”

Stuart confirmed that he and Pierre would come and they would get in touch again soon.

Ben Alki Mazrouth was also enthusiastic.

“About time I did something useful,” he said. “I haven’t really up until now.”

“Well what about when you helped to stop Razjosh’s switch-off?” said Kaleem.

“Well, that was me and a few others,” said Ben Alki.

“Yes, but we couldn’t have done it without you,” said Kaleem.

Ben Alki shrugged.  “I’d really like to do this,” he said. “Not just because it would be exciting, going to another planet. I’d like to work with you – for you, if you like, all the time. The projects I’ve done so far have been pretty meaningless.”

Kaleem couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Somebody actually wanted to work with him.

So, everybody was in agreement then. They would all come on this mission and perhaps more importantly would happily receive visitors from Zandra.

There was just one more communication he needed to make now. Rozia. That one he was dreading.

How could he ask her to come here? How could he even talk to her? He couldn’t be comfortable around her, that he knew. What would it be like for her?

He was suddenly hit by a wave of memories. How he’d first met her. How they went into the Z Zone together. How good she’d been with the Adulkis. Then the terrible scene when she’d fallen unconscious. All those weeks when she’d been in that coma.  And finally when he’d had to leave her. He didn’t want to. Of course he didn’t. But it had been the right thing to do.

He’d followed her Glog all those months.  He knew how it was for her now. She was with Julien now. She loved this new man as much as she had once loved him. In a different way but just as much.

Kaleem could not imagine himself being with anybody else. That at least was something he had in common with Nazaert. Now that he had found the one, there could be no other woman for him.

Obviously different for her. But that’s what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? That she should be happy with someone else. Well, it was one thing knowing that this was right. It was another entirely feeling okay about it.

Whatever the rights and wrongs about it all, how was he going to face her?  How was he going to do it?

But do it he must.

He called up her sign.

The dataserve screen flickered. Then it went black. In fact all the lights went out in the apartment. An alarm started sounding. The whole building started to shake. The doors on cupboards flew open and objects on shelves fell to the ground. There was a low rumble all the time. Kaleem found it hard to keep his balance.     

“We have to get out,” shouted Nazaret.      

Get your copy here!

The Tower, Imagining a Tower, by Gill James

 

Enmerkar looked steadily at the stranger.

“What did the King say he wanted?”

“He says he wants to discuss a plan for a new building, something very big. Perhaps the biggest he has ever planned,” the messenger replied. 

The man’s clothes were covered in dust. He had obviously been riding a long time. In this heat as well.

“You must be tired and thirsty,” said Enmerkar. “May I offer you some refreshment?”

The messenger nodded and bowed slightly.

“Mariam,” called Enmerkar.

His sister arrived. Her eyes met his, she smiled briefly, bowed to the messenger and then lowered her eyes. Even with her head covered and even though her diamond-like eyes were no longer showing, she was more beautiful than any woman Enmerkar had ever met. No, he didn’t have any improper thoughts about her. She was his sister and you just did not think that way about your sister. But it did make it difficult for him to take a wife himself. His sister was setting a high standard. Besides, he had to look after her until he had found a husband for her and she was married. That was proving difficult.       

Enmerkar smiled to himself, though, as he watched the man’s eyes grew round. His sister always had this effect. No man between here and Babylon was able to resist her. Despite his tiredness, this man, Enmerkar could see, was aroused.

“Fetch some wine, some olives and some of our best cheese,” commanded Enmerkar. “And wear a full veil when you return,” he whispered.

“She is betrothed?” asked the stranger after Mariam had left them.

Enmerkar sighed. “No, she is far too fussy. Much too grand to elect a mere messenger from the king.”

The man blushed.

Enmerkar regretted what he had said straight away. He was not superior to this man. Yes, he was a master builder, like their father had been. They were a well-respected family and were quite wealthy now but they were after all just workers, servants almost. Someone from the king’s court would actually be a very good match indeed for Mariam.  

“Do you have any idea what he actually wants?” asked Enmerkar as he watched the man eat and drink.

“No, just that it is a big project,” replied the man. “A little crazy perhaps.”

“And there is no other builder who can do it?” asked Enmerkar.

The man shook his head. “He asked for you.”

Enmerkar sighed. “Well, I guess we should set off at sunrise tomorrow. But I warn you, I shall have to bring my sister.”          

 

King Nimrod slowly paced up and down as he talked. He waved his long arms every time he spoke.

“It will have to be the grandest building ever made. It must be glorious. It must speak to God!” He turned to look at Enmerkar. “You will have your chance, my friend,” he said, “to show off your fine building skills. To use your little baked bricks. It will be your moment of glory.”

Enmerkar shuddered inside. The type of building project Nimrod seemed to be talking about would take years. He only had a few skilled men who knew how to make the bricks and how to slime them together. Even training up others would take months. And he daren’t use unskilled workers.

And Nimrod was being so vague about exactly what he did want.  

“Is there really no other builder you can use?” asked Enmerkar. But he already knew the answer. He was, after all, the master builder.

Nimrod stopped pacing. “I will even accept your sister as a wife for my youngest son,” he said. “Without a dowry.” Then he laughed. “Though with what I propose to pay you for this project you could give a handsome dowry for a dozen sisters.”

That would be something, Enmerkar supposed. Get Mariam off his hands. Surely she would not object to marrying a prince? Even if it was not one of the heirs to the royal title. In fact, Nimrod’s youngest son, Joshua was far pleasanter than the twins, Hunor and Magor.  He’d even seen Mariam talking to him and laughing – without her face veil, the hussy – so perhaps already something was there. Perhaps this young man could make her happy.

He would have to accept this challenge. The building was going to be difficult. At least his sister would be settled and maybe he too would have time to seek out a wife. Maybe a fine one, here at the court. And with the sum Nimrod was prepared to pay, he would never have to think about money again.

“Very well,” he said. “But only if I have full control over the design, the choice of materials, the choice of workers and the pace at which the work is completed.”

“Indeed, my friend,” replied Nimrod and embraced Enmerkar.

The king was a tall, muscular man and immensely strong. Enmerkar could barely breathe as Nimrod squeezed him.

“Now let us send for our young relatives and let them know the good news,” said the king, finally letting Enmerkar go.    

 

It was even hotter here at the palace than at home. Enmerkar was finding it difficult to think straight. He dreaded baking the bricks for such a project. Would it be easier to have them made at home and transported here? It would be cooler there. A little at least. 

Home. Ah! This would be his home now. For years. Yes, years, not months.

There was one consolation. Mariam had accepted Joshua as a husband with only a little protest. “Oh, but why not Magor or Hunor? Think, brother, your sister as a queen!” In the end, though, she’d settled for Joshua. And he’d been right; they were falling in love. He’d even caught them lying together and had had to play the angry brother – though not too much so, because he was dealing with the king’s son. Secretly, though, he was pleased. So, a wedding had to be planned too. The sooner the better perhaps, if that couple were to carry on being so promiscuous. A prince’s bride should not be with child when she marries. Planning a wedding anyway was a welcome distraction from planning this impossible tower.  And there was something further that was also occupying his mind: the friendship he was enjoying with Naomi, the king’s niece. Could it be… would she be the one? She didn’t excite him, hardly aroused him even, but she was certainly pretty enough. Good company, in fact. He presumed love would grow …

But now he must get back to the tower. If he made it 5433 cubits, if he made it taper… then surely the bricks at the bottom wouldn’t collapse. He wanted it to be a sort of Ziggurat, Nimrod had said, but much bigger than normal. Just how many bricks would that need? How much clay would he have to find and how many men would he need to fetch the clay, shape the bricks and then put them together? He had some calculations to do now. He must not be distracted by the thoughts of weddings and of women.   

Soon he was absorbed again in his mathematics. The base was going to have to be huge so that the tower could taper and still be useful at the top. No one had been able to tell him - not even the sages Nimrod had asked in for advice – just how high he would have to make the tower so that it would touch the sky. But if Nimrod really wanted a true Ziggurat… well the spiral pathway up the tower would be so wide that he would be able to place small lodgings at the sides… maybe even small fields for the animals. And of course, people walking to the top or travelling by ass would need places to rest and take some refreshment. It wouldn’t just be a tower. It would be a whole city.

The noise of someone clearing their throat broke his concentration.

“And so how is it going, my fine friend?” asked Baltuus.

Enmerkar recognized the man he had dined with the night before. He was one of the sages who knew a lot about mathematics

Enmerkar sighed. “It is going to take a lot of clay, a lot of fire to bake the bricks and a lot of men. And no end of time.” He looked down at the notes he had made. “Seventeen years. And only then if I can find enough good men to train and if their training works.”

Baltuus shook his head. “Why must he build the tower so high? What does he hope to gain by it?”

“He wants to show what man can achieve,” replied Enmerkar.

“But why not just build a fine city?” asked Baltuus. “Won’t that do just as well, be more useful, and in fact much easier to build?”

“He wants to stretch it to Heaven, so that even Yahweh will have to admire how great man is,” replied Enmerkar.

Baltuus shook his head, as he examined Enmerkar’s calculations. “That will never work, my friend.”

“The bricks won’t hold, you mean?” asked Enmerkar.

“No, no, no, not that,” replied Baltuus. “Your calculations are correct. I’m talking about trying to impress Yahweh. Look around you. Look at the mountains and the seas. And the trees and the beasts. Now that is an impressive creation. Your tower is nothing in comparison.

“Now if you said that you were building the tower so that you could talk more easily with Yahweh, that might be a different matter,” said Baltuus.

“It would make him angry,” answered Enmerkar. He could just picture Nimrod’s answer to that.

Baltuus nodded his head and tapped Enmerkar’s shoulder. “Take care, my friend,” he said. “You are right. This tower will cause anger.”   

 

 Get your copy here.

The Tower, Zandra

 

Gengis Hall 231 was just like any other meet venue that Kaleem had been in – either here on Zandra or on Terrestra. Boring, but particularly so when your meet partner was running late. Kaleem stared at the holoscene which showed through the window. At least it was convincing. You really felt as if you were looking at a view through a window, just like you might on Terrestra. It was storied from a real place: one of the infant forests, complete with bluebells, ice-bells and all the rest, one of the very forests that his father was working on.

He gets everywhere, thought Kaleem. He wished Edmundson would hurry up. He needed to find out what he wanted. He was beginning to imagine all sorts.

The dataserve whirred into life. Edmundson’s face appeared on the screen.

“Listen Kennedy,” he said. “I’m going to be another fifteen minutes at least. Load the stuff about acorn and vaccine exchange. You tell me what those statistics mean.”

“Of course,” said Kaleem.

Edmundson was still not giving anything away.   

The screen blanked over before Edmundson said goodbye. In fact, Kaleem, supposed, he probably hadn’t said goodbye. Edmundson never wasted time on superfluous words.  Before he even thought about what he’d been asked to do, the screen suddenly started showing the Supercraft at London Harbour and Zandra Dock 1. He was now watching similar scenes to the ones he’d seen yesterday. He didn’t bother, though, this time asking for the Figurescript version of the statistics. He was fairly certain that Edmundson couldn’t read Figurescript.

It was quite mesmerising listening to the robotic voiceover. “Day 116 3520, acorns imported 7500, vaccine exported 5679. Viability in package from day 116 3519 96%. Vaccine to date 97% effective. Forecast for new needs, Day 118 3520, 17,000 acorns, 18,644 doses of vaccine. Forecast for reciprocal needs met Day 220 3527…”

Goodness, if I ever can’t sleep, thought Kaleem, I’ll load some of this stuff up.

It struck him as he watched the split screen picture of London Harbour and Zandra Dock 1 that although Zandrian droids and Supercraft were not quite the same, there was more the same about them than different. The Supercraft were more or less the same shape and had the entrances in exactly the same places, the droids were the same height and walked in the normal slightly stiff manner and the metal containers being loaded at either end were exactly the same size, colour and shape, but the Zandrian ones had a green cross on them to show that they held medication and the Terrestrans had green hexagons to show that they contained plant life.

“Do you see what’s missing?” a voice behind him asked.

Kaleem jumped.

He turned to face Don Edmundson. The man was even scarier in the flesh than he was usually on screen. There was absolutely no expression on his face at all.

Kaleem shook his head. He just couldn’t think with Edmundson staring at him like that. 

“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that there are no people around?”

Kaleem looked back at the screen. Well there were people, but only a very few. Most of the work was being done by the droids.

“I mean, getting on and off the Supercraft,” said Edmundson.

“Forecast daily rate for this lunar period,” the robotic voiceover droned on.

“Fine, we know,” said Edmundson, looking pointedly at the dataserve screen.

The screen went blank immediately and the serve itself gave a final bleep.

Edmundson nodded to Kaleem that he should sit down and took one of the not-so comfisessels himself.

“Everything is going according to plan,” said Edmundson, “as far as acorns and vaccine are concerned. But another part of the bargain was a greater connection between the people of Zandra and Terrestra. I don’t see it happening.”  

“What do you mean exactly?” asked Kaleem.

“I mean that we need people, Terrestrans, to come to Zandra now. And we need to get Zandrians on Terrestra.”

Yes. Of course. Kaleem had known that all along. In fact that had even been his excuse for coming here. Or that was what he had told everyone including his parents and his grandparents: he was here on a Peace Child mission. He had to oversee the first visits to Zandra from Terrestrans and then increase the number of visitors from Terrestra to Zandra. There had been just a few – himself, his mother and the small team that had come across on the first mission to Zandra in search of the vaccine against the Starlight Racer disease. If he was honest, though, he had really come here to get away from Rozia and everything associated with her.

“Well? said Edmundson. “Do you have any concrete plans yet?”

“No,” said Kaleem. “You can imagine how carefully we have to tread with Terrestrans.”

“I don’t have to imagine,” replied Edmundson quickly. “It’s all too obvious. It was part of the original agreement that an exchange of persons as well as materials would actually take place. You and your mother are hardly enough. And besides, that is not an exchange: there are no Zandrians on Terrestra.”

Kaleem knew he was absolutely right. He would have to do something and soon. He would probably have to ask Razjosh for ideas.

“I suggest,” Edmundson continued, “a person exchange. Six people go from here to Terrestra, and meet with six Terrestran delegates. They travel back to Zandra with our people. Not too much to ask is it, just for a start?”

No, it wasn’t. But Kaleem knew he would be pushed to find six. Maybe Pierre and Stuart. Razjosh was too old really and probably wouldn’t count as he’d been before. Rozia, he knew, would come like a shot. He daren’t ask her, though. He wouldn’t be able to cope with her being there. Not now that she was with Julien. Abel and Kevik – but they were too busy in the Z Zone. Saratina maybe? But how would they react to her here? No, he shouldn’t think like that.

“Well?” asked Edmundson.

“It sounds reasonable,” said Kaleem. Reasonable but almost impossible.

“Good,” said Edmundson. “I’ll get Emmerline to show you the ideas we’d had.”

Kaleem shuddered. Edmundson’s secretary droid was famous. It was always difficult to remember that she wasn’t a real woman. She was so life-like and always carried so much authority. But of course, not being human she never tired.

The door swished open and in she came. Only the slightest jerkiness in her movements and the data that started streaming across the screen as she moved into the room gave away that she was a droid and not a sexy young woman. She moved her hips as she walked and her long straight blond hair flowed behind her as she moved. She was connecting directly with the dataserve, though. Soon images flickered and flashed making Kaleem blink. So, she was a droid after all.

“Data download is now complete,” said Emmerline. The voice was astoundingly human. No way was she a droid. Why was Edmundson the only one to have something as sophisticated as this? She tossed her sleek hair back and smiled at Kaleem and Edmundson. 

“Talk him through it,” said Edmundson.

“Yes, certainly.  A delegation of about six persons should go to Terrestra. Kaleem should help decide who. They should have a diplomatic tour, stay in a good hotel but also have direct contact with Normal Zoners and of at least one in the newly integrating Z Zone. They should have ample opportunity to sample Terrestran food…”

“What would you know about that?” whispered Kaleem. Droids didn’t need food – well at least not the same sort that humans needed.

“It’s a most important part of human life,” said Emmerline, staring at him. The pupils on her artificial eyes widened as if she was trying to take more of him in.

Great elders, she was scary. The scariest female that Kaleem had ever met… not that she was really female, he reminded himself. She was just a machine.

“Essential, in fact,” continued Emmerline. “Fundamental. And also extremely puzzling why food is so much better here on Zandra than on Terrestra where you have better raw materials.”

Kaleem had to concede that one. And he had no idea how they did it either.

“Naturally, we would also like to learn more about your diastics systems,” continued Emmerline. “My searches reveal the following academics may be able to give advice.”

Movie clips of Terrestran scientists showed for a few seconds each on the screen.

And to think all you need is microchips and some good programming, thought Kaleem.

“We would also like to arrange a discussion between the delegates and a committee made up of heads of service and elders. And yourself of course.” She flashed Kaleem another smile. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and her pupils grew even larger as if she were flirting with him.

For a few seconds Kaleem was almost convinced that she really was human and that it was just some trick of Edmundson’s and a female friend of his. Edmundson seemed to be finding it all extremely amusing.

“Show him the timetable,” he said to the droid. It was clear he could hardly keep his face straight. 

A chart immediately appeared on the data screen.

“These show the timings,” said Emmerline. “Red is for food discussion, blue for investigation of scientific matters, yellow for social activities and purple for further negotiation of the peace.”

Now Kaleem wanted to giggle. This was just too much. It was much too precise.

Edmundson suddenly looked stern.

“Stand-by,” he ordered Emmerline. “You see, she really is a droid.”

“No, no,” said Kaleem. “I just found it all too neat and tidy. You can’t do things that quickly.”

“Hmm,” said Edmundson. “But it ought to be a lot more focussed than you’re making it.” He turned back to the droid. “Continue,” he commanded. “Show Terrestrans on Zandra.”

A movie clip loaded on to the screen. Kaleem gasped. There were Pierre, Stuart, Saratina, Rozia, Sandi Depra and Ben Alki. They were here, on Zandra, looking at one of the oak plantations. Of course, why hadn’t he thought of those two? 

“It‘s all right,” said Edmundson. “She can read your mind.”

“But I never thought of Ben Alki or Sandi Depra,” Kaleem murmured.

“Good, isn’t she?” continued Edmundson. “She can even read your subconscious mind.” He was grinning.

Here we go, thought Kaleem. Another mission impossible.

The droid whispered something to Edmundson. The executive’s face went pale.

“Really? He said. He turned to Kaleem. “I’d get home as soon as possible if I were you. You don’t want to be caught here with me with what might be about to happen.” What was he talking about?

“Go on, I mean it,” said Edmundson, his face now red. “Skedaddle.”

Kaleem could see that he meant business. He set off home.