Articles of the Federation - Keith R. A. DeCandido [53]
Yorgas’s latest demand to Tierra had been for the right to put a scientific base on Brannik IV. He’d been saving that one for when he was really desperate, because that had been a bone of contention between their two worlds for years. Delta laid claim to Brannik IV-but did nothing with it.
Tierra sat calmly in her chair and said, “Brannik IV is an important strategic- “
Slamming his hand on the large wooden table, Yorgas bellowed, “Enough! You have been spinning that lie for centuries!”
“It is no lie!” Tierra’s calm quickly evaporated. “Our military base there- “
“Can just as easily be put anywhere. But Brannik is the only other planet we have found where the animal life matches the fossils on our homeworld from the Oida age. Studying Brannik might provide some answers regarding that period. Yet you continue to prevent us- “
“Oh, please,” Tierra said with a dismissive wave. “You only wish to gain a foothold in the solar system that is most proximate to ours so you can spy on us.”
Rolling his eyes, Yorgas said, “Trust me, we have little interest in watching your deviant planet all have sex with each other constantly.”
To Yorgas’s surprise, Tierra laughed at that.
“What amuses you, Ambassador?”
Instead of answering his question, Tierra turned to one of her aides. “Kedda, I owe you dinner.”
Yorgas didn’t like the sudden jocular tone. “What are you talking about?”
Now Tierra looked right at Yorgas and fixed him with a smile that six months ago might have charmed him. Deltan pheromones were well known throughout the galaxy, and their effect on Carreons was nauseating. One risked turning into a quivering mass of sexual idiocy in the presence of a Deltan, which was why Yorgas found them so despicable. Still, even Yorgas had to admit that Tierra, at least, had a certain charm. However, the long months of negotiation had bled all the charm out of her from his perspective, and so now the urge to cave her face in with a rock simply increased to a desire to light her boots on fire and watch her slowly burn to death.
“What I’m talking about,” she said, “is that Kedda bet me a dinner that today would be the day that you would finally resort to name-calling. I’m actually impressed, Ambassador, that it took this long for your prudish idiocy to come to the fore.”
That simpering bitch. “The fact that we don’t flaunt our base instincts for all to see doesn’t make us idiots, Ambassador, it simply makes us moral.”
As Yorgas was speaking, one of the doors to the Wescott Room opened to reveal President Nan Bacco, who said, “Because of course, Ambassador Yorgas, morality is an absolute throughout the galaxy.”
Yorgas felt his face grow colder with embarrassment. This president was also human, but unlike the one in the picture-who was unusually tall for a human, with broad shoulders and a hard face-this one was female, short, and frail-looking. Bacco had come across as more formidable in the footage he had viewed before coming here, and he now realized that it was a trick of the camera, as it were.
“I would disagree with that, Yar Bacco,” he said, addressing her formally. “Morality cannot be anything but an absolute.”
“Well, that’s easy for a person representing a monolithic morality to say-assuming you do have a monolithic morality. Does every Carreon behave with the same morals?”
“Of course,” Yorgas said, even though he knew it to be false. But he would not show weakness before this woman.
She took a seat that was halfway between Yorgas and Tierra on the side of the table. “Well, I envy you that, Mr. Ambassador, I really do. If everyone shared the same morals, we’d probably have a much easier time of it.”
“Time of what, Yar Bacco?”
Bacco hesitated. “I was about to say government, but honestly, the answer to that would be ‘everything.’ It must simplify things for you so much, to come at everything with such great moral certitude.”
“I suppose it does,” Yorgas said