The camera crew continued to adjust the lighting, as the NASA video crew prepared to record the meeting. The hospital's board room had been chosen as the location for this momentous occasion. This was quite the unprecedented meeting, thought Perry Roberts. The President, a NASA astronaut, and an alien. It sounded like the setup for a joke. Watney had given them a basic overview of what Oaiea was likely to say to them; he'd sheepishly revealed, by then, the alien computer device he'd managed to keep secreted since his rescue. Oaiea would be using it to broadcast a pre-recorded message that they had been composing during the last week.

In particular, the president was not pleased that he was expected to issue an apology on behalf of the whole of humanity, for atrocities committed six-thousand years ago. Two lousy aliens! Killed by cavemen! It was hard for him to summon up much sympathy, but Mark had prodded him about it repeatedly. He simply couldn't ignore it, as ridiculous as it might seem, to him. He'd had to endure a crash course on the culture of this alien, in the hopes that he wouldn't say something irretrievably offensive. For instance, Oaiea's people, if they possessed a spacecraft, considered it to be a member of their family-or even more important than that; it was their mother, their father, their child, all rolled into one. Therefore, Mark insisted, that President Roberts would be wise to issue his welcome first to the spacecraft, and only secondly to its owner. Perry tried to imagine a foreign delegation welcoming Air Force One to their country, and welcoming himself only in the fine print. He shrugged. Whatever. The language barrier was something of a problem, as the spacecraft in question DID have a name; it was simply impossible for him to say. No amount of help from a dialect coach was going to help him today. He shook his head, ruefully.

The meeting was not meant for broadcast in entirety, of course. Clips from it would, no doubt, be used during Monday's press conference. Hopefully they could edit out the worst of it, though as often as not, the media would do the exact opposite. President Roberts' tacit approval of this, the very first acknowledgement of alien intelligence, was incredibly risky for him, politically. It wouldn't do; for him to be seen as weak, accepting first contact from an extraterrestrial out of the fear of reprisals if he didn't. However, public opinion was bound to swing wide for Watney, who had approached legendary status in the public eye in the past two years. There was going to be strong public sentiment in favor of anything, anyone, who had helped bring Watney home to the country that adored him. It could be-maybe- a brilliant triumph for his presidency and NASA; it could also go completely pear-shaped, if the public reaction leaned towards fear and intolerance.

. . .

Mark, for his part, was resting up while the camera crew bustled around him. He looked surprisingly calm, an eye in the storm of activity and anxiety around him. His parents hovered nearby, their presence being deemed necessary by NASA's head of public relations. He sat quiety, studying his hands occasionally as Oaiea put the final touches onto her statement. He'd had his first look at her list of demands (requests? he couldn't really imagine President Roberts saying 'no' to anything, here) earlier, and he was trying to help streamline her proposal into something that didn't sound quite... so alien, there was no other way to put it; as he rearranged words and phrases to make them sound as natural as possible. He double-tapped to send the final draft back. There were thirty minutes remaining, he estimated. It was almost showtime.

He grinned to see his mother and father having camera makeup applied. His father was scowling at the makeup artist, as the powder puff approached his face. They'd already done their job on him. His skin tone looked healthy and even again. He'd actually recognized the man in the mirror tonight, and it was a good feeling. Time to bring this man back to life, he told himself.

. . .

Two podiums had been arranged, in front of the small audience and the camera team. A row of chairs sat behind them, occupied by the essential personnel. The director of NASA, the Secretary of State, several Ares 3 crew members, and of course, Watney's parents. Mark Watney sat in the center chair. He gave President Roberts a quick grin, as he approached the left podium, and began to arrange his speech cards.

The other podium was empty, save for the small, rounded communications device in the center. It came to life, suddenly, as trilling musical notes issued from it, and Oaiea's head and shoulders appeared. The image was somewhat transparent, and flickered occasionally, as the room fell silent. A crescendo of chords, a four-piece orchestra of sound issued from the device, as Oaiea introduced herself, first, in her own language. The English text of her speech ran like subtitles close to the projection base.

My greetings, to the President of the United States. I am Oaiea, a traveler and scientist.

"Your ship is welcomed here, Oaiea," began President Roberts, "and I want to start by thanking you, Oaiea, and welcoming you to Earth as well. You have done a wonderful thing for my people, by bringing our astronaut home."

I am glad to have brought Mark Watney safely back to Earth. My ship did most of the work, however. Oaiea smiled.

The president paused for a moment. Was she making a joke? He couldn't be sure. He smiled back, just to be sure. Then he assumed a very serious expression, and soldiered onward.

"Oaiea, on behalf of all the people of Earth, I apologize for the deaths of the two travelers, killed on Earth."

Their deaths, and the loss of their ship, were felt very deeply by my people.

"They were explorers and travelers, and their deaths were a terrible tragedy; they will never be forgotten. I am very sorry for your loss."

Thank you, President Roberts. It is good to know that this war-like behavior is no longer condoned, on your planet.

"I would like to offer your ship, and you, permission to land on Earth, on American soil. Will you accept this offer of friendship? The American people are grateful for everything you've done, and I welcome you to come and walk in peace, among us.

Yes, a second chance for peace between our people; This is our ultimate goal.

"I agree, Oaiea. Peace and friendship between our people is our ultimate endeavor."

Mark Watney has attempted to explain to me how peace accords are arranged, in your culture. I therefore respectfully suggest that you hold a state dinner in honor of this historic agreement, President Roberts. This tradition is something our cultures have in common.

"A state dinner is a wonderful idea, Oaiea. On behalf of the American people, I would like to formally invite you to attend a state dinner, in your honor, at the White House."

I would be honored to attend. However, my ship requires special consideration. Can you provide safety for my ship, and myself?

"Yes, of course. Your ship is welcome to land at Andrews Field, where my own ship, Air Force One, is protected with the full force of the United States military. Will that be acceptable to you, Oaiea?"

Yes. I also require a formal documentation that I have been invited to land my ship, and visit your territory. Mark Watney suggested that perhaps the United States could issue me a passport, or other official travel document. My people view these formalities with much importance, Mr. President.

A passport? What the hell is a big-eyed alien going to do with a passport? That's a really strange request, Perry thought. But what the hell, he'd hand over his own passport if she asked for it, if it would help this peace accord move forward smoothly.

"We can arrange that. We'll have one prepared for you right away." Was there anything else?

Thank you, President Roberts. I realize it will take some time to plan this state dinner. Do you have an estimation of when it will be?

"I'll have to check with the White House social secretary, Oaiea, but an event of this magnitude will take some careful planning. Does one month from now sound acceptable?"

Yes. I look forward to meeting you in person. It was a pleasure speaking to you.

"The pleasure is all mine." Ever the gentleman, the president bowed his head slightly, and smiled at Oaiea's projection, as it flickered and then disappeared.

That was the strangest conversation I've ever had in my life, thought Perry Roberts, as he sank into a nearby chair.