The Interview
2295.31
Emma McGregor sat in her office feeling only a little too pleased with herself. Not only had she successfully completed the degrees, she had the diplomas in hand. Following the ancient university traditions: parchment, hand-written calligraphy, and in Latin. After responding familial congratulations, she had been ignoring the com-unit until it notified her of an urgent incoming message from the Vulcan Embassy.
Doctor McGregor,
You are requested to meet with Ambassador Sarek at 1445 hours this afternoon. Please confirm your availability upon receipt of this message.
Soran
Executive Ambassadorial Aid
She read it, blinked, and then reread it, stunned.
Two months earlier, her dissertation supervisor tipped her off about an opening as the new Federation Cultural Interchange Director. He felt it would be a significant career step and an interesting social transition.
She recalled laughing out loud at the description, but applied anyway. More or less qualified for the job, she thought she might be too young and inexperienced to be considered. After submitting her application to the gate of the embassy in the early morning hours, she moved on from it, not in the least expecting any further communication about it. She decided to at least update her application, and sent a message to Soran.
Exactly thirteen minutes later, she was asked to meet with the ambassador.
She dressed in a soft, ecru angora sweater, her clan's tartan plaid skirt, and began to assemble the necessary accoutrement, thinking carefully about what was coming this unexpected afternoon.
She knew who Ambassador Sarek was, having heard from various people that he was a formidable, respected diplomat with an intimidating presence. One had suggested a CPU with feet and a fabulous wardrobe. Another described him as having the warmth of a snow pea. Her office mate said that any debate involving Tellarites meant he would rather be drawn and quartered than lose.
She took a deep breath and headed for the Vulcan embassy. After she checked in at the front gate, Soran came to meet her. He escorted her down a hallway leading away from the public areas on the first floor. Emma noted how, although austere, lovely art was displayed. She recognized works by prominent Vulcan, Andorian, Terran, and Deltan artists – and paused for a moment in front of one of them.
"Dr. McGregor?" Soran asked.
"I was just looking at 'Guernica'– it is an interesting choice."
"Picasso was an interesting Terran," he replied.
He would mention her awareness of the painting to the ambassador. They approached the end of the hall and Soran opened the door for her, asking her to wait, entering the adjacent room. At precisely 1445 hours, he reappeared to invite her in and introduced them.
"Ambassador Sarek, Dr. Emma McGregor."
She saw a tall, lean man with salt and pepper gray hair and an intensely scrutinizing gaze stand behind the desk. His robes were a beautiful shade of brown, trimmed in black and had what she translated as his clan name embroidered in gold down his lapel.
"Dr. McGregor, thank you for taking time to speak with me today." He raised his hand and offered the ta'al.
"Your presence honors me, O'kevet-dutar," she replied, saluting him and bowing slightly.
He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk, noting a refined mastery of Vulcan social etiquette. "Would you care for tea?"
"Yes, please."
She looked directly at him and waited quietly as Soran served them both and then vanished, door closing behind him. Sarek studied her with intense hazel eyes.
Such lovely eyes, she thought to herself.
She had fascinating natural hair color. He had seen red hair on humans before, but the intensity of orange was unusual. Cut short, with sloping sideburns, it was streaked with premature silver.
For her, the silence was mildly amusing, and he would not break eye contact. She decided not to lose the staring contest, waited for him to speak.
His right eyebrow rose slightly.
"I have observed that humans prefer to avoid prolonged eye contact, as potentially confrontational."
"It can be so, in some cases."
"Am I to understand that you do not perceive it in that manner?" Sarek asked curiously.
"Correct." She smiled.
"I fail to see the humor in this."
"It just reminded me of a preoccupation that many humans participate in: the staring contest."
She wondered if she should kiss the job good bye.
"I do not understand the purpose of intentionally prolonging eye contact with another for the sake of humor. What social value does this serve?" He sincerely did not get it.
"Well, it is a simple matter of who will look away or blink first. They lose."
Yep, this job is history. She might as well enjoy the conversation while it lasted, besides, she couldn't stop looking at his eyebrows.
"It establishes precedence of dominance in future interactions between those individuals," he postulated.
"No, it is simply for amusement. It's not logical, but it is what it is."
She wanted to play with his ears, but decided against it, lest she be charged with assault.
"Indeed."
He remembered moments when Amanda would tease him about missing the importance of fun. A surge of grief for his beloved began to rise within him; the corner of his mouth tugged only so slightly.
Two years had passed since Amanda died, and even though he had adjusted his daily routines, life had not been the same. Once, Amanda suggested that he did not know what he had gotten himself into when he married her. At the time, he did not understand, believing he had carefully evaluated the variables. Now, he agreed. Adjusting to solitude was a daily challenge.
"I offer my congratulations regarding receipt of your doctoral degrees. Your efforts have produced interesting discovery."
"Thank you."
She had not been tossed out on her ear - at least not yet. What was that remarkably pleasant scent? She tried to place it in her mind, but was failing.
Pay attention Emma, for crying out loud, she chastised.
"I percieve great value in consistently revising awareness and understanding between Terran and Vulcan cultures. Provided the resources and creative authority, how would you choose to integrate aesthetic expression into developing cultural awareness?"
She thought for a moment. "The primary conclusions show that although our two species have developed in substantially different ways, direct correlation exists in how we express ourselves artistically; both of our civilizations deal heavily with emotion, albeit through highly contrasting philosophies."
"Agreed."
"Careful evaluation of music written during times of extraordinary social revolution reveals shared expressive elements. I think it wise to study those similarities and present analysis. It does not require either culture to deny philosophies under which we conduct ourselves, merely present unique perspectives and awareness. Awareness provides opportunity for change."
Sarek considered of the benefit of education versus the detriment of secrecy: not everything needed a shroud of mystery.
"It would be an interesting experiment to educate Vulcans in Terran musical practices and encourage expression to Terran audiences. I would encourage musical studies that include learning to sing or play an instrument, studying theory and harmony, and composition. Reasoning those processes are highly logical and structured, they represent one of many strong correlations between us. If successful, the obverse experiment should be conducted on Vulcan," Emma finished.
He sat quietly, thinking about the idea, as scientific curiosity got the better of him.
"How would this initial experiment be conducted?"
"I envision two phases: first would be private and group lessons weekly, building technical proficiency. Secondly the group would join music ensembles at the ministry when they are proficient, allowing their creative contributions to be presented in performance."
"What musical projects would be most beneficial?"
"We'd focus on important compositional figures in Terran history, learning examples of their repertoire. I have some ideas for this summer however. The exchange should be unilateral for participants, encouraging opportunities for participants to introduce their creative cultural elements.
"Ambassador, it is known that studying artistic creation during periods of political strife can grant a clear view into the emotional health of the culture. The artistic community is the veritable 'canary in the coal mine' for social stability, or instability."
"Is this unique to only our two worlds? Is there any possibility of this concept becoming more inclusive of other species?" he asked, theorizing there was much more to be derived over the long term.
"Actually, I've wondered the same thing. I recently began preliminary research in communication methods. What I have found is significant. There are two concepts: the first is this artistic-social behavior pattern is strongly present in nearly all Federation member planets."
"Which planets do not show this pattern?" His curiosity piqued.
"Cultures for whom the primary interpersonal communication is via broadcast telepathy. Simply put, if they produce audible communication, this concept is present to a very strong degree."
"All of them?"
"Yes sir, all of them. The long-term implications for the Cultural Interchange Directive are not only cultural awareness or understanding of behavior. Musical education is merely the beginning. The program has the potential to act as a diagnostic tool for socio-political issues. The benefits to the Diplomatic Corps are worth the investment alone."
"What would you estimate the degree of accuracy to be in predictions of instability?"
"That is a difficult question to answer. I estimate an accuracy of between seventy and eighty-five percent, all things considered – too low to be an absolute, but high enough to act as an early warning system," she responded.
"What of the second concept?"
"This is equally fascinating to me. Of all planets utilizing audible communication, each language has very specific and defined rhythmic patterns that are exactly mirrored in their music styles. The inflective behavior of the languages all derive from naturally occurring ambient sounds in the indigenous environment. The meter of the languages is identical to the meter of their musical forms. The possibilities for improving linguistic pedagogy are exciting."
"Dr. McGregor, how would you accommodate the time necessary for this addition to your schedule?"
"Well, to be honest, since the degrees completed, I have no demands upon my time, except for the honor guard," she answered. "The contract for those classes ends as of June 1st this year."
Maybe this job was not kaput after all.
"What cultural factors would you prefer to be brought by the Vulcan students?"
"I would like to focus on two factors: modes of acceptable artistic expression within current Vulcan culture, and a thorough exploration of Surak's teachings. A project on those two issues alone would require at minimum twelve months to plan, create and set for performance."
Infinite Diveristy, Infinite Combinations he thought silently.
He looked at her intently, having already read her translations of the Pre-reform poetic works. They showed an interesting external perspective on the Vulcan culture. Her pursuit of the language, means of expression, and mastery of etiquette had thus far been quite satisfactory.
"Also, I'd require an office here at the embassy simply to house the materials and to teach. My time is flexible and would be at the student's convenience."
They certainly had the room to accommodate her office needs.
"I do have a personal request, actually."
Here is where we lose the job, she thought to herself. Start making conditions on their territory, their time, and their credits.
"That being?"
He was relieved to see she was not afraid to communicate sincerely; most humans did not know how to act around Vulcans. She was completely at ease, just as her references said she would be.
"I would ask to be able to compose and rehearse personal projects here in my off hours. Should you choose to offer this job to me, I must surrender my posting at the Academy at the end of the term, and along with that is access to a piano and work space."
"Acceptable," he replied, thinking through his schedule, wondering if he could afford time for historically relevant conversations with her.
He had enough information to make his decision. She was capable of functioning at a high level within the embassy community. Now was the matter of housing.
"Are your living quarters near the embassy?"
"Unfortunately not, but my lease expires next week and finding housing in this part of the area should pose no difficulty."
"Dr. McGregor, I offer you this position. Should you accept, you would become an employee of our government and your housing requirements would be met within the embassy grounds, should you so desire. There would be a requirement to meet certain cultural obligations such as dietary restrictions, privacy observation, and matters of security. The monthly salary is 4,500 credits. I will provide you with the office and space for instruction and rehearsal that you require. Is there any other issue that must be addressed to assist in your decision?"
"Honestly, sir, if you are willing to provide my housing and board, the salary is too high for the job."
"The salary begins at that level," he said flatly.
"I would appreciate some time to consider the offer carefully and make certain this is the right decision."
"Please inform Soran of your choice within seventy-two hours."
"I will do."
With that, she stood, wished him peace and long life, and left. He sat at his desk thinking about the conversation when there was a knock at the door.
"Come in, my friend."
Soran walked in and sat in the previously occupied chair.
"She will notify you within seventy-two hours."
"Understood."