The Crystal Helix: Glittering Generalities (part 1)

I. First Contact

    Nyarly Silver perused the scan results and scratched behind his mandible with a custom designed claw sheath.  His saurian form stretched to relieve the kinks his large head put in his neck while peering at the displays.  "It says there's life, but no cities, no farms, not even a toxic waste dump...what kind of sentience is this?"  His tail thumped in frustration.  "Just a lot of rock formations--are you sure they have achieved local space travel?"

   "We'll soon find out," the XO said, "They've sent a floral pod in greeting and, I assume, the obligatory vaudevillian comic.  I hope this one's not so perverted as that last one from the Tshimikan.  I've never been so disgusted in my life.  Why do races try to share comedy?"

   "Sharing a sense of humor is the strongest basis for alliance--you can't trust someone that doesn't laugh at your jokes."

    "You can't trust the ones who always do, either!"

   A yeoman trucked in the pod, clutched delicately in her cobalt-studded claw. She opened it expertly to reveal a quadruple helix of glittering gemstones half a meter tall and a tenth across, intricately carved with the script in formal Slithian calligraphy of a proverb of Re'myeld: "What goes around, comes around." 

   From the center rose a large sapphire crystal, nearly black in the subdued light of the room, yet transparent.  It emitted a deep vibration, like some antemillennium monkish chant.  The unexpected intonation startled the yeoman who dropped the helix, which toppled and sent diamonds skittering across the floor.

    Nyarly motioned her to stand still.  Before he could speak, the large sapphire righted itself.  It seemed to absorb light from its immediate vicinity, becoming opaque, and drew the scattered gems together through the air, to spiral into formation and reset themselves.

    In the next second, a large female specimen of the Brotherhood persuasion was holographically projected above and around the sapphire.   She was as tall as Nyarly himself, but wore much more fetching armor plate.  Her scales shimmered iridescently, and she even seemed to breathe and sniff the air like the carnivores she appeared before.

    "That doesn't look like a comic to me," the XO said, "Thank goodness."

    Females had long ago won the right to fill any post in Re'Myeld, but such a female as this was a rare sight.  Exotic pheromones exuded from her, proffering friendship.  Nyarly had to remind himself sternly that she was a merely a projection from a rock.

    "I am Ultra Marine, O Captain," said the projection, "Please forgive this apparition, but we have learned that the water-based races are more comfortable with life that looks familiar."

    "I am Captain Nyarly Silver.  Welcome to our vessel.  Let me apologize for our clumsy handing of your exquisite gift, Madam* Marine.  Its abilities are unknown to us."

    "There is no need for apology except that our young ones were not sufficiently trained for this low light environment.  Garnet is a hot, dry world of long days, which makes us lazy.  Now we shall do better.  Try us."

    The apparition stepped away from the helix.  At a nod from Nyarly, The XO tipped it over gently, to no effect, then picked it up by the top layer of stones.  It was as if carved of one solid section. 

    "Drop it," said Ultra, "It shall not break."

    After a nod from Silver, the XO raised it above his head and let go.  The helix not only did not break but settled down to the gravity floor like a feather.

    "You transmute energy directly?  That is what you can teach us?" Nyarly asked, his teeth gleaming.  Her fragrance was forgotten in the images he saw of conquest and commerce.

    "Yourselves?  I cannot speculate whether organic intelligence can focus the energy in such a way, but the silicates you use in your machinery can certainly be taught.  And we are at your service until then.  These young ones are brought here to share in the learning and spread ourselves through your space."

    "Did you say that these are your young?  We could not allow you to give us your children."

    "We ask that we be allowed to learn your ways and the ways of other sentiences in the consortium you have organized.  In return we will serve you and the consortium with our many talents."

    The XO jerked his head away from the projection and slid back toards the far partition.  Silver followed him a few meters away with a mumbled excuse.  The XO's face was drawn, his teeth bared and the skin around his breast armor white with tension.

    "I don't know about this," he said, "I don't think we should let them in on our technology, much less into our hardware."  He looked at the yeoman who seemed fascinated by the helix, drawn like a bird to the eyes of a snake.  "Diamonds may not be our best friends."

    "We'll do some serious negotiation before we sign anything, Ex.  This looks like a meaty meal if we stalk it right.  Did you notice any weaponry?  Any defense systems? Anything except ore, cargo and pops for the picking?  I think we can chance it."

    The XO ground his teeth quietly, but said nothing further; he knew the Captain would do what he wanted regardless.

    Ultra had turned away, but her aural openings were aimed in their direction.  She appeared to be scanning the interface device.  Was she more than a projection, or could the crystal in the helix interpret any kind of energy?  Silver approached the crystal; the projection turned his way and approached.

    "What sort of quarters will be appropriate for you?" He addressed the rock. 

    "A place that allows us to absorb energy across a wide spectrum would be very gracious," the projection said, "or you may place us in your quarters as is your custom, I believe, for diplomacy with prospective allies.  We are very interested in the notion of zygotal reproduction." 

    He would have sworn she had fluttered her eyelashes, if she had any, and it was sure that her fragrance had deepened with her voice transmission.  This would be a unique entry for his personal log.

    "Yeoman, escort Madam Marine to my quarters, and instruct her in the operation of environmental controls."

    "Aye, sir."  The yeoman reached for the helix, but it rose to the claws of the projection who then carried it, following the yeoman sedately.  Nyarly noticed a pattern of markings on the projection's tail, like a quilt pattern of rhomboids.   He wondered if they were flaws in the crystal or just done for effect. 

They were effective.

(to be continued)

* Madam is an honorary title for any person who has been successful in negotiating transactions of the Brotherhood, stemming from the original nature of their commerce: it does not carry sexist overtones in their culture.