WHETHER THEY KNEW HOW TO SMILE

1563 4D

Overgroup Manager Frintar listened as the lights cycled off and on, off and on; then she flicked the comm to inactive. She massaged her nose. The rebels had used some kind of nerve weapon, one that had worked on the alien troops as well. Dirty. “The lights are on again,” she said to her aide. “But the colls have gotten the Complex.”

She turned to the three aliens standing at her left in the spaceport office, the facets of their indigo eyes showing an occasional flash of onyx streaks. “And you’re in trouble now. It looks as if we’ve reached an impasse, assuming nobody tries to blow up the South Power Complex. We have a rebellion on our hands, and we can’t stamp this one out without risking the whole City. You will have to cancel your visit.” The ways to the Upper South Domehall offered too many chances for attack and confusion. She wouldn’t let the rebels sabotage the shaky structure of the alien agreements with the government and the corps, no.

The alien with the heaviest carapace swayed slightly, and raised a bushfingered hand to pat its headshell. “That is impossible,” it said. “We have important… observances to complete in the next few days. They must be done here in the City. We are already moving our kind to the place of meeting. Has Arlen not informed you?”

Damn Arlen. Now Frintar had another problem: reining him in, yet again. Her mind raced. “If you tell me what you need, I can make alternative arrangements. Outside the City, or later on, we can—" Frintar extended her hands. She was losing control.

“No. Here we must wait over forty years for the next chance for this gathering. We cannot.” The alien speaker dragged a long bush of finger-tendrils across its huge compound eyes.

“What is this gathering, anyway?” Frintar‘s frustration pushed to the surface. The aliens stood silent, as if the question had no answer. “Why won’t you tell us what’s going on? We might be able to protect you better. Then you could do what you need to.”

The aliens placed their finger-tendrils together for a moment in a seeming tangle. The one who had spoken before said, “It is our understanding that you were unable to prevent the rebels from penetrating power plant security, even with forewarning.”

“Unfortunately true,” Frintar said. Now they seemed to be preparing to negotiate. She listened closely.

“We are ready to supply added soldiers for your assistance in recovering the power complex. For two-hour shifts only, for the next five days. While we are doing this, we expect to have full access to our meeting-space.”

“How many soldiers are we talking about, here?” Frintar pressed.

“Two hundred each shift, veteran, fully armed for underground fighting, beam weapons of all sizes, ballistics.”

Eleven daily shifts, that made twenty-two hundred. “That’s very good. As soon as I reach Talizirin, we have a deal.” Much better. The rebels would be stretched far too thin against this level of attack to hit the routes to the Domehall. Frintar grabbed her comm and called into it.

A few seconds later, Talizirin‘s gratefully nodding face faded. Frintar said to the aliens, “Okay, it’s done. Get your troops down here to me, and we’ll open up your area for you.” The three turned stiffly and trundled off. How had they managed such a classical-monster appearance? They must have read the ancient stories. She could never figure out whether they knew how to smile.