course not. The doors will be guarded, of course; as much for your protection as ours. However, you will be allowed to mingle with the crowd. This will be a learning experience for both of us. If things go well, we may make it a monthly function.”
Sar-Say bared his teeth in an imitation of a human smile. On him, it did not look friendly.
“I think I would like that, Director Fernandez.”
“If you will excuse me, I have a busy morning.”
“I also,” the Broan replied. Although he displayed the learned social behavior that humans had taught him, his mind was not focused on that particular interaction. Rather, he was considering his search for a particular human and how this reception might advance his cause.
#
“Want to go to a party?”
“I beg your pardon,” Lisa asked.
Mark Rykand gathered her into his arms and repeated, “Would you like to go to a party?”
“A party? Where?”
“Boston.”
She tilted her head up to look into his eyes and furrowed her brow in that way he found so attractive.
“Can’t we find entertainment closer to home? Say in the Colorado Springs holoplex?”
“This is a special party. It’s a coming-out shindig for Sar-Say.”
This time the look of confusion was too much for him. He laughed. This caused her skin to flush and her eyes to widen momentarily, as though she was thinking of launching a lightning bolt in his direction. Instead of an explosion, she said softly, “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
The beginning had come with a summons to Director Hamlin’s office. Hamlin had greeted him with the same question: “Do you want to go to a party?”
Mark’s reaction had been similar to Lisa’s. The director explained: The Broan Institute was planning a controlled social event at which Sar-Say would mingle with regular people. The stated goal was to see how Sar-Say reacted in a crowd situation.
Mark found this explanation suspect. For one thing, en route to the Crab Nebula, Sar-Say had had plenty of practice mingling in groups. For another, the guest list included some decidedly “non-regular” people, including the Governor of Massachusetts, the Mayor of Boston, several media bigwigs, and assorted Harvard notables. The reception seemed more like an apple polishing exercise than a serious experiment in alien psychology.
The invitations had gone out to the directors of both the Gibraltar and Paris Institutes and their wives, more for form’s sake than a desire to see them show up. However, the invitation concluded by saying that if the directors were unable to attend, they could send their representatives.
“That’s you,” Hamlin said, “if you want to go.”
Mark considered for a moment. “Lisa and I have a lot of work due next week, but I suppose we could take a day or two off. I know Lisa would like to see Sar-Say again. They were roommates for quite awhile, you know.”
“I do. I’ve seen the surveillance recordings, including the one that isn’t supposed to exist.”
Mark nodded. All activities in Sar-Say’s quarters aboard PoleStar had been recorded for study and security purposes, including Lisa’s nude flight across the compartment. “I wouldn’t mention that to Lisa, were I you.”
That brought a smile to Hamlin’s lips. “I would give you the same advice unless you like sleeping on the couch. Do you accept the invitation?”
“Sure,” Mark replied. “It might be fun.”
Lisa listened as he recounted his meeting with the director, minus the part about security recordings. When he finished, she asked, “Why on Earth would they throw Sar-Say a coming out party?”
“They claim it’s a science experiment. If you ask me, I think personal aggrandizement is a more plausible explanation. Professor Fernandez and his band are trying build up credit with the local powers-that-be.”
“Why would he do that?”
Mark shrugged. “Prestige, a bigger bite of the budget pie, a desire to be one of the ‘beautiful people’?
Sar-Say bared his teeth in an imitation of a human smile. On him, it did not look friendly.
“I think I would like that, Director Fernandez.”
“If you will excuse me, I have a busy morning.”
“I also,” the Broan replied. Although he displayed the learned social behavior that humans had taught him, his mind was not focused on that particular interaction. Rather, he was considering his search for a particular human and how this reception might advance his cause.
#
“Want to go to a party?”
“I beg your pardon,” Lisa asked.
Mark Rykand gathered her into his arms and repeated, “Would you like to go to a party?”
“A party? Where?”
“Boston.”
She tilted her head up to look into his eyes and furrowed her brow in that way he found so attractive.
“Can’t we find entertainment closer to home? Say in the Colorado Springs holoplex?”
“This is a special party. It’s a coming-out shindig for Sar-Say.”
This time the look of confusion was too much for him. He laughed. This caused her skin to flush and her eyes to widen momentarily, as though she was thinking of launching a lightning bolt in his direction. Instead of an explosion, she said softly, “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
The beginning had come with a summons to Director Hamlin’s office. Hamlin had greeted him with the same question: “Do you want to go to a party?”
Mark’s reaction had been similar to Lisa’s. The director explained: The Broan Institute was planning a controlled social event at which Sar-Say would mingle with regular people. The stated goal was to see how Sar-Say reacted in a crowd situation.
Mark found this explanation suspect. For one thing, en route to the Crab Nebula, Sar-Say had had plenty of practice mingling in groups. For another, the guest list included some decidedly “non-regular” people, including the Governor of Massachusetts, the Mayor of Boston, several media bigwigs, and assorted Harvard notables. The reception seemed more like an apple polishing exercise than a serious experiment in alien psychology.
The invitations had gone out to the directors of both the Gibraltar and Paris Institutes and their wives, more for form’s sake than a desire to see them show up. However, the invitation concluded by saying that if the directors were unable to attend, they could send their representatives.
“That’s you,” Hamlin said, “if you want to go.”
Mark considered for a moment. “Lisa and I have a lot of work due next week, but I suppose we could take a day or two off. I know Lisa would like to see Sar-Say again. They were roommates for quite awhile, you know.”
“I do. I’ve seen the surveillance recordings, including the one that isn’t supposed to exist.”
Mark nodded. All activities in Sar-Say’s quarters aboard PoleStar had been recorded for study and security purposes, including Lisa’s nude flight across the compartment. “I wouldn’t mention that to Lisa, were I you.”
That brought a smile to Hamlin’s lips. “I would give you the same advice unless you like sleeping on the couch. Do you accept the invitation?”
“Sure,” Mark replied. “It might be fun.”
Lisa listened as he recounted his meeting with the director, minus the part about security recordings. When he finished, she asked, “Why on Earth would they throw Sar-Say a coming out party?”
“They claim it’s a science experiment. If you ask me, I think personal aggrandizement is a more plausible explanation. Professor Fernandez and his band are trying build up credit with the local powers-that-be.”
“Why would he do that?”
Mark shrugged. “Prestige, a bigger bite of the budget pie, a desire to be one of the ‘beautiful people’?
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