PSYCHOS WANTED
The sky was colored with greyish tones, some of those particularly tougher tones of grey, these strangely shaped forms floating in the atmosphere, were releasing droplets of water. Earth was a planet that was agreable to the sight enough, though perhaps overwhelming with the green color. Da'an, the alien, had modified the energy pathways which circulated beneath the upper part of his face, the pathways which provided sight, for they may catch hold of the spectrum of light the Humans were capable of seeing. A restricted one. But diplomacy's goal was to understand. And as the Humans, as they called themselves -pride filling their voices as the ones talking the english language (three days after his arrival, he still had not met speakers of any other languages or representatives of others countries, the Synod had sent others to take care of other regions of the planet Terra) accented the word slightly on the first syllable - as the Humans could not step up to their level, the Taelons would step down at theirs. Logical. And necessary.
A Human had been sent to communicate with him, though he was no expert, he was good in dealing with those who were causes of both problems and fascination. His appearance betrayed his un-occidental origins. Most probably had he originated from the region of their planet their referred to as Asia. South-Eastern Asia. Malaysia, Indonesia, Phillipines, Polynesia, other islandic countries yet which names Da'an had not bothered learning : he had been told that they would not be in the limits of his protectorate.
He was male. The pronoun 'he' stood for this sexual gender. Humans had only two of those, restrained possibilities of mating had noted the Taelons. And a quite random-like procedure of reproduction, which was why, the Taelons thought, they engaged in copulation often - and quite paradoxally some women were willing to go as far as destroying their offspring when it was growing inside of them, when it was created, as if the child's arrival in this world was not wished for. Illogical and mindless. A high proof of primitiveness mixed with arrogance. It was true, although, that the planet they lived upon was small enough and populated highly. Nearly. too highly. They worried of this. Some countries encouraged the females not to produce more than one children. Human lives though were much shorter than theirs, the parameters were to be shortened : it was easily understandable then that some human females could birth more than twenty children in a lifetime, an occurrence which was unconceivable for any Taelon.
Ronald Sandoval was a male of the human species. He worked in one of their agencies, an agency that could be tied to a specific government, the american one. It was refered to as the Federal Bureau of Investigations. They investigated little and hid much. Defended a small number of lives and ruined many. They both protected and threatened the existence of many hundreds of their fellows. Such a. double-faced attitude (creating the war to better stop it and let heroes become) was apparently something that Da'an still had to learn. The man had given a great participation of himself in the Sino-Indian war - implicating one of their countries, China, against one another, India, for a question of territory argumentation, the protection of a few terrorists, a few assassinations and cultural as well as ethnic differences. The Companion knew that many lives had been lost in this great conflict. But somehow Ronald Sandoval - Agent Ronald Sandoval, he reminded himself of the Human's title and function - had survived the ordeal. His features, hardened, and his eyes which showed a soul much older than the body it belonged into, clearly showed that on some degrees the man would have chosen death rather than survival. The post-war feeling would fade away, Da'an knew. Earth was still in shock, both from the fact that the decade-lasting war that had brought two billions of dead amongst both innocents and less innocents (though Da'an could easily tell that the truest responsaible were comfortable enough and far from death still) had ended, and that it had been ended by aliens who had come with a message of peace. Humans were children. The Taelons were their god-parents, preventing them from doing themselves further harm, taking things in charge.
It had been over a whole Earth hour that they were talking together, having a conversation. And Da'an was slightly amazed by two things : first, this Human had not yet manifested tiredness, either a physical or a mental one. It was more a mental one that he had witnessed often since his landing on this world, many men and women of Earth had been quite fatigued through their nervousness to speak to an. alien creature. And in second : though Ronald Sandoval's words were heavy with respect, he was not. afraid of communicating to Da'an some truths about their world and their race. He was quite. fed up with the war he had been taking a very active, though heavily covered and not involving any physical fight, part in it. Fed up.
¤
Earlier, the alien had arrived in the FBI's main office, where he had been in a private conference with the Adjoint Director present in the building. Presenting him his request for temporary re-assignment to some paperwork job, actually.
They had said they were Companions.
The Companion had stepped into the room. Sandoval had only stared forward, strangely unable to tear his eyes away from the member of an alien species who had just stepped in the same room that he was present in. A few minutes later, when several other people had filled the room all of a sudden, he had thought that his audience would await and had prepared to decidedly self-take his leave. Perhaps it was the fact that he was quite. shattered inside. from everything that his eyes had come to fall onto during the past few months - few years. Perhaps it was the fact that the alien in the room would not stop staring at him as soon as he - or she - or it - was done speaking with someone else. Perhaps it was the fact also that he felt slightly and frigteningly bound to this alien being he had never met and could never have met. Perhaps it was why he was compelled to do something with himself, stand, walk forward, push the door.
The alien had pointed at him. All of his arm extended, his body then had moved to turn, fully facing him, as he had been ready to step outside of the room. "I wish to speak with this Human." Later, much later, Sandoval would ask 'Why me ?' and Da'an would answer 'Because you were the only one who had not lowered his eyes in front of me.'
Words had not not stumbled on his lips and crashed down into awkwardness. They had been clear. Informative. A direction. Not quite a request, more like a. helpful recommendation. "It's. very impolite to point at someone like this."
Little emotions had played on the alien features. Only then had Sandoval noted how blue were the eyes he had been staring into all along. Blue. Bluer than anything he had ever seen. The alien hand, his - or her - or its - skin was whitish, with tones of blue, the hand had curled around itself, the arm had folded, coming back at its master side, obediently, slightly curled, fingers constantly moving at abdomen level - so soon he had found himself noticing the apparently reflexive patterns drawn in the air by those gestures and wondering about their signification, if they had any. The Companion was much taller than him. "I shall recall this." The voice had been soft, calm. Warning, mildly threatening.
A few days later he had been in one of their shuttle. He had climbed in, helped by a young red-haired man wearing the marines' navy blue suit. Military, rigid salute and everything. There were four seats in the small vessel, he had sat down and had realized that they were not made to be comfortable for Humans - or so he supposed. It just was not shaped for them. A taelon pilot - by then he had learned that the Companions' species was named taelon - had taken his place, risen the shuttle into the air. The marine officer had stepped towards the back of the shuttle, leaving him alone to sit by the alien's side. The same alien that he had seen before. The same face anyway. For all he knew, for all Humanity knew, maybe they all looked alike. What - who - he saw was slightly feminine in appearance, yet the whole demeanor dismissed the thought that this. being was bearer of any kind of gender
He had never been amazed by flying, he had concentrated on his knees until the pilot had spoken something in a smooth sounding language, which seemed to his ears like a continuation of modulated whispers. The alien beside him had answered in the same tongue, their tongue, had he instantly understood. The shuttle had shuddered, then the world in front of them had seemed to fade away in something more bright. a kind of tunnel. Inter-dimentional. Forty seconds later they had landed in Washington DC.
During the flight, the alien Companion had held a hand out and said that his name was Da'an. 'His' and 'he' had become usual, a default. form of referance, as english had no word for what they were really. He had said : "It's nice meeting you Da'an."
The alien had smiled. A smile that Sandoval had found pleasant to the sight, though it bore no seduction nor any kind of physical or sexual attraction. Smiles for which he was not done craving.
One week later, the embassy of Washington was achieved. Da'an had invited him to come to see what it looked like in its full-grown form. He had been fascinated - who would have not ? Da'an had expressed surprise as he had witnessed the amazement that he had displayed toward the contruction. Sandoval had answered that Humans did not use to grow whole buildings in a few days. The Companion had smiled again.
"Maybe slightly too blue for my tastes." he had said, more to say something that was not entirely enthusiastic than in really meaning the words. Teasing Da'an, testing him, seeing what level of opposition he stood for.
"I find your planet to be overwhelmingly green also." Da'an's answer. The first apparition of the alien's sense of humor. Or amazing sincerity. Or a little of both.
They were living beings, thus they were imperfect, but they were so much closer to perfection that mankind could ever get. They were the only answer to his personnal quest for moral salvation. The only possible action.
¤
Da'an had requested for Ronald Sandoval to come. The Synod had declared that since radical thoughts and opinions had been formulated about them, all Companions present on Earth should seek for protection. As soon as he had communicated this statement to the President of the United States, volunteers had appeared.
"The Synod has stated that we must undergo protection. Do you know why ?" Da'an was well aware that Ronald Sandoval understood that it was not meant as 'If you know why, tell me.' but as 'Are you aware of it as much as I am ?'.
"Because many people on Earth would jump at your throat out of fear if they were able to ? Yeah, I do know." The Human had not awaited for him to answer to his question before pursuing, he was certain of his answer, certain of himself in more ways than one.
Da'an had held out a tool they refered to as a global. A tool they used to communicate. It was the highest point of their technology and as such was not operating very well, but still had served its purpose. "I had this device ingest all of the conditions I and the other Companions will search for in a protector." The man took the global and paced around as he had the information scroll down on the tiny space they called the screen where datas could be viewed. Of course, Da'an noted when the Human's eyes stopped their left-to-right movement, indicating that Agent Ronald Sandoval was done acquainting himself with the information. "You are done ?" Da'an asked out of politeness. Out of diplomacy.
"Yes," a rare undevelopped verbal answer that left Da'an to know that more words would be flowing down. "Basically you search for persons. preferably males for higher physical strenght and better emotional control, who have little family ties, no friends, no relationship, and who have gone through the war."
"Is something. wrong with these requirements ?" had he questionned, his features mirroring his sincere puzzlement at the man's reaction, highlit with irony.
"As a matter of fact no, but you might want to know that if you publish this, the only resumes you'll get will be the ones of some psychos." Ronald Sandoval had ended his sentence with a smile, one that soon was fading off. A non-lasting smile. A smile that had seen blood be shed and lives be taken.
Da'an, circling the emplacement where, from the roof and the floor, were growing the tentacles of bio-slurry which would soon meet half-way to form the seat that would be situated in the middle of this chamber, the audience chamber. For the diplomat he would be. "Then, Ronald Sandoval whom do you suggest as candidate ?"
END
The sky was colored with greyish tones, some of those particularly tougher tones of grey, these strangely shaped forms floating in the atmosphere, were releasing droplets of water. Earth was a planet that was agreable to the sight enough, though perhaps overwhelming with the green color. Da'an, the alien, had modified the energy pathways which circulated beneath the upper part of his face, the pathways which provided sight, for they may catch hold of the spectrum of light the Humans were capable of seeing. A restricted one. But diplomacy's goal was to understand. And as the Humans, as they called themselves -pride filling their voices as the ones talking the english language (three days after his arrival, he still had not met speakers of any other languages or representatives of others countries, the Synod had sent others to take care of other regions of the planet Terra) accented the word slightly on the first syllable - as the Humans could not step up to their level, the Taelons would step down at theirs. Logical. And necessary.
A Human had been sent to communicate with him, though he was no expert, he was good in dealing with those who were causes of both problems and fascination. His appearance betrayed his un-occidental origins. Most probably had he originated from the region of their planet their referred to as Asia. South-Eastern Asia. Malaysia, Indonesia, Phillipines, Polynesia, other islandic countries yet which names Da'an had not bothered learning : he had been told that they would not be in the limits of his protectorate.
He was male. The pronoun 'he' stood for this sexual gender. Humans had only two of those, restrained possibilities of mating had noted the Taelons. And a quite random-like procedure of reproduction, which was why, the Taelons thought, they engaged in copulation often - and quite paradoxally some women were willing to go as far as destroying their offspring when it was growing inside of them, when it was created, as if the child's arrival in this world was not wished for. Illogical and mindless. A high proof of primitiveness mixed with arrogance. It was true, although, that the planet they lived upon was small enough and populated highly. Nearly. too highly. They worried of this. Some countries encouraged the females not to produce more than one children. Human lives though were much shorter than theirs, the parameters were to be shortened : it was easily understandable then that some human females could birth more than twenty children in a lifetime, an occurrence which was unconceivable for any Taelon.
Ronald Sandoval was a male of the human species. He worked in one of their agencies, an agency that could be tied to a specific government, the american one. It was refered to as the Federal Bureau of Investigations. They investigated little and hid much. Defended a small number of lives and ruined many. They both protected and threatened the existence of many hundreds of their fellows. Such a. double-faced attitude (creating the war to better stop it and let heroes become) was apparently something that Da'an still had to learn. The man had given a great participation of himself in the Sino-Indian war - implicating one of their countries, China, against one another, India, for a question of territory argumentation, the protection of a few terrorists, a few assassinations and cultural as well as ethnic differences. The Companion knew that many lives had been lost in this great conflict. But somehow Ronald Sandoval - Agent Ronald Sandoval, he reminded himself of the Human's title and function - had survived the ordeal. His features, hardened, and his eyes which showed a soul much older than the body it belonged into, clearly showed that on some degrees the man would have chosen death rather than survival. The post-war feeling would fade away, Da'an knew. Earth was still in shock, both from the fact that the decade-lasting war that had brought two billions of dead amongst both innocents and less innocents (though Da'an could easily tell that the truest responsaible were comfortable enough and far from death still) had ended, and that it had been ended by aliens who had come with a message of peace. Humans were children. The Taelons were their god-parents, preventing them from doing themselves further harm, taking things in charge.
It had been over a whole Earth hour that they were talking together, having a conversation. And Da'an was slightly amazed by two things : first, this Human had not yet manifested tiredness, either a physical or a mental one. It was more a mental one that he had witnessed often since his landing on this world, many men and women of Earth had been quite fatigued through their nervousness to speak to an. alien creature. And in second : though Ronald Sandoval's words were heavy with respect, he was not. afraid of communicating to Da'an some truths about their world and their race. He was quite. fed up with the war he had been taking a very active, though heavily covered and not involving any physical fight, part in it. Fed up.
¤
Earlier, the alien had arrived in the FBI's main office, where he had been in a private conference with the Adjoint Director present in the building. Presenting him his request for temporary re-assignment to some paperwork job, actually.
They had said they were Companions.
The Companion had stepped into the room. Sandoval had only stared forward, strangely unable to tear his eyes away from the member of an alien species who had just stepped in the same room that he was present in. A few minutes later, when several other people had filled the room all of a sudden, he had thought that his audience would await and had prepared to decidedly self-take his leave. Perhaps it was the fact that he was quite. shattered inside. from everything that his eyes had come to fall onto during the past few months - few years. Perhaps it was the fact that the alien in the room would not stop staring at him as soon as he - or she - or it - was done speaking with someone else. Perhaps it was the fact also that he felt slightly and frigteningly bound to this alien being he had never met and could never have met. Perhaps it was why he was compelled to do something with himself, stand, walk forward, push the door.
The alien had pointed at him. All of his arm extended, his body then had moved to turn, fully facing him, as he had been ready to step outside of the room. "I wish to speak with this Human." Later, much later, Sandoval would ask 'Why me ?' and Da'an would answer 'Because you were the only one who had not lowered his eyes in front of me.'
Words had not not stumbled on his lips and crashed down into awkwardness. They had been clear. Informative. A direction. Not quite a request, more like a. helpful recommendation. "It's. very impolite to point at someone like this."
Little emotions had played on the alien features. Only then had Sandoval noted how blue were the eyes he had been staring into all along. Blue. Bluer than anything he had ever seen. The alien hand, his - or her - or its - skin was whitish, with tones of blue, the hand had curled around itself, the arm had folded, coming back at its master side, obediently, slightly curled, fingers constantly moving at abdomen level - so soon he had found himself noticing the apparently reflexive patterns drawn in the air by those gestures and wondering about their signification, if they had any. The Companion was much taller than him. "I shall recall this." The voice had been soft, calm. Warning, mildly threatening.
A few days later he had been in one of their shuttle. He had climbed in, helped by a young red-haired man wearing the marines' navy blue suit. Military, rigid salute and everything. There were four seats in the small vessel, he had sat down and had realized that they were not made to be comfortable for Humans - or so he supposed. It just was not shaped for them. A taelon pilot - by then he had learned that the Companions' species was named taelon - had taken his place, risen the shuttle into the air. The marine officer had stepped towards the back of the shuttle, leaving him alone to sit by the alien's side. The same alien that he had seen before. The same face anyway. For all he knew, for all Humanity knew, maybe they all looked alike. What - who - he saw was slightly feminine in appearance, yet the whole demeanor dismissed the thought that this. being was bearer of any kind of gender
He had never been amazed by flying, he had concentrated on his knees until the pilot had spoken something in a smooth sounding language, which seemed to his ears like a continuation of modulated whispers. The alien beside him had answered in the same tongue, their tongue, had he instantly understood. The shuttle had shuddered, then the world in front of them had seemed to fade away in something more bright. a kind of tunnel. Inter-dimentional. Forty seconds later they had landed in Washington DC.
During the flight, the alien Companion had held a hand out and said that his name was Da'an. 'His' and 'he' had become usual, a default. form of referance, as english had no word for what they were really. He had said : "It's nice meeting you Da'an."
The alien had smiled. A smile that Sandoval had found pleasant to the sight, though it bore no seduction nor any kind of physical or sexual attraction. Smiles for which he was not done craving.
One week later, the embassy of Washington was achieved. Da'an had invited him to come to see what it looked like in its full-grown form. He had been fascinated - who would have not ? Da'an had expressed surprise as he had witnessed the amazement that he had displayed toward the contruction. Sandoval had answered that Humans did not use to grow whole buildings in a few days. The Companion had smiled again.
"Maybe slightly too blue for my tastes." he had said, more to say something that was not entirely enthusiastic than in really meaning the words. Teasing Da'an, testing him, seeing what level of opposition he stood for.
"I find your planet to be overwhelmingly green also." Da'an's answer. The first apparition of the alien's sense of humor. Or amazing sincerity. Or a little of both.
They were living beings, thus they were imperfect, but they were so much closer to perfection that mankind could ever get. They were the only answer to his personnal quest for moral salvation. The only possible action.
¤
Da'an had requested for Ronald Sandoval to come. The Synod had declared that since radical thoughts and opinions had been formulated about them, all Companions present on Earth should seek for protection. As soon as he had communicated this statement to the President of the United States, volunteers had appeared.
"The Synod has stated that we must undergo protection. Do you know why ?" Da'an was well aware that Ronald Sandoval understood that it was not meant as 'If you know why, tell me.' but as 'Are you aware of it as much as I am ?'.
"Because many people on Earth would jump at your throat out of fear if they were able to ? Yeah, I do know." The Human had not awaited for him to answer to his question before pursuing, he was certain of his answer, certain of himself in more ways than one.
Da'an had held out a tool they refered to as a global. A tool they used to communicate. It was the highest point of their technology and as such was not operating very well, but still had served its purpose. "I had this device ingest all of the conditions I and the other Companions will search for in a protector." The man took the global and paced around as he had the information scroll down on the tiny space they called the screen where datas could be viewed. Of course, Da'an noted when the Human's eyes stopped their left-to-right movement, indicating that Agent Ronald Sandoval was done acquainting himself with the information. "You are done ?" Da'an asked out of politeness. Out of diplomacy.
"Yes," a rare undevelopped verbal answer that left Da'an to know that more words would be flowing down. "Basically you search for persons. preferably males for higher physical strenght and better emotional control, who have little family ties, no friends, no relationship, and who have gone through the war."
"Is something. wrong with these requirements ?" had he questionned, his features mirroring his sincere puzzlement at the man's reaction, highlit with irony.
"As a matter of fact no, but you might want to know that if you publish this, the only resumes you'll get will be the ones of some psychos." Ronald Sandoval had ended his sentence with a smile, one that soon was fading off. A non-lasting smile. A smile that had seen blood be shed and lives be taken.
Da'an, circling the emplacement where, from the roof and the floor, were growing the tentacles of bio-slurry which would soon meet half-way to form the seat that would be situated in the middle of this chamber, the audience chamber. For the diplomat he would be. "Then, Ronald Sandoval whom do you suggest as candidate ?"
END