Asylum
Copyright© 2026 by Tedbiker
Chapter 12
Hector Finch:
I was very conscious that our visitor was tense, and that proximity to the planet’s Head of State had something to do with that tension.
“In human culture, Commander, it is customary in a situation like this to share food and drink. We have hot and cold drinks. Perhaps the most common one to offer is coffee, which is a mild stimulant, but an acquired taste. It is naturally quite bitter and some humans add milk or sugar, or both. Tea, which is a herbal infusion, is also popular in some cultures, such as Taki-san’s, and Ambassador Leila’s. Both can be drunk cold or hot. This is hot. We also have cold fruit juices, plain water, and beer and wine. Beer and wine are fermented and contain various amounts of alcohol, that is, C2H6O.” I stopped, to allow Andromeda to finish translating and permit our visitor to assimilate the information.
She said something and the translation came out as, “Perhaps I might have some wine?”
Miu carefully poured a glass of a pale wine made from an Andromedan fruit similar to Terran grape. It had proven popular with the colonists, though most preferred the beer. Romy poured coffee and handed it to me with a smile, while Miu poured tea for Leila and Taki. Once everyone had a glass or cup, savoury finger foods were offered. We sipped, and we nibbled.
When we’d finished the snack, cups and glass empty, the alien met my eyes.
Her speech, her language we humans could not understand, was translated by Andromeda, but Andromeda had said something to her before that. Later, Andromeda told me that she’d explained that she could not guarantee communicating the exact nuances. Commander Zdreeth, apparently, replied that she understood and would try to ensure that no misunderstanding could occur. So the message I heard went, “Sir, your picket Commander gave me a provisional sanctuary. Might that be confirmed?”
“We will need to talk to you to ensure that our requirements for sanctuary, what we call ‘Asylum’ are satisfied. I doubt there will be any problem with that. However, I think you really need rather more than that. Andromeda does not have military resources to campaign outside our own system. We can protect ourselves, provide for ourselves. As for you, we can protect you and your crew. But...” I paused for emphasis, “I suspect you’re more concerned for your people than that. You need to seek help from a better source.”
She stared into my eyes. It was a penetrating, somewhat intimidating stare. After several seconds she asked, “And that would be?”
“The United Planets Federation Council. The UPF have a substantial navy, which we do not, and they’ve been upgrading their technology with help from Andromeda.”
“And they would help?”
I shrugged. “I think they might be persuaded, especially if you have any evidence of the behaviour of your attackers. If they attack your empire, it would probably be a matter of time before they turn their attention to Terran colonies and Earth.”
“We have video recordings,” she said. “And scans from orbit as we were getting ready to leave. Understand, our people are not aggressive these days, though we are evolved from a predator species. But I think they will fight as best they can.”
“I suggest we download your records to formats consistent with Terran technology,” I said. “Ambassador Trivedi, your thoughts?”
“Your Majesty,” she began.
“Leila,” I sighed.
“Your Majesty, in this context,” she emphasised, then glanced at our visitor. “Our leader does not like protocol,” she chuckled. “Commander,” she went on, “there will be factions in the Council. There always are. We have hawks and doves, and they always argue. But I think the hawks will prevail. The fleets, or at least some in authority, will welcome a confrontation with an aggressive species. They were keen enough to try force against Andromeda.” She turned to Taki. “My friend, I suggest you go to Earth with the Commander and perhaps her navigator?”
Our visitor looked thoughtful. “Will they listen to me? An alien? Begging for help?”
Taki injected a serious comment. “I cannot guarantee anything. But I think the idea of a new sentient race, and the prospect of a real threat to Federation security, will cause them to take you seriously.”
“Then I will try, with my navigator as you suggest. But do I use my own ship?”
“No,” I told her. “We could use one of ours, but I suggest the Mat Trans network would be better. We would deliver you, your navigator and Taki-san to our Embassy on Earth. And our ambassador to Earth will approach the Council on your behalf.”
“Mat Trans?” she gasped. “You have matter transmission? You can move living beings?”
“Andromeda had the technology and taught us how,” I said. “Transmission is energy intensive, but it’s almost instantaneous. We will need to warn Ambassador Charles on Earth so he can lay the groundwork.” I glanced at Leila, who nodded, smiling.
“I will go, if you agree. I’ve never tried that machine of yours. Unlike some,” she went on, “I’m not afraid of being broken down into my component parts and reassembled at the other end.”
It was hard to tell, with the fur on her face, but I would swear that Commander Zdreeth’s face paled. She didn’t say anything, though.
“Tell you what, Leila,” I said thoughtfully, “why don’t you take a trip to Earth this afternoon. Brief Charles on the situation. Show him some video. Leave our visitors here. When you return, we can think about taking them. Depending on when the Council will see them.”
I returned my attention to our visitor. “Commander, stay with us a day, you and your crew. Enjoy our hospitality. There will be a concert in the hall this evening.” I don’t think she quite understood what I was saying, judging by her expression, but, hell ... she’s alien. What would I know about expressions? The Prometheans, well, they are so much like us I’ve no doubts about the ‘progenitor’ thing.
“Thank you, sir,” she said eventually.
The concert was good, of course, even without Bernie who was out on board Jason. During the interval, I noticed that the Streelth, sitting together in the back row, had a space all around them. Clearly our people were uncertain about them. One person, though, obviously had no reservations at all. Our Katya, seven years old, marched up to Commander Zdreeth who was sitting at the end of a row, stood right there within arm’s length, looking up at her. Then held up her hands asking to be picked up.
The Commander’s eyes met mine across the room, what I took to be a question in them. I nodded, without thinking whether she would understand the gesture and also without any thought whether I ought to be trusting this alien with my daughter.
Any questions were moot when the alien bent down and lifted Katy onto her lap. My daughter promptly wrapped her arms firmly around her neck and snuggled. My only thought was ‘out of the mouths of babes’. If a child trusted her, then should I question it?
She stared at me. “Your people,” she began, waving an arm which was not at that moment supporting Katy. “Your people are uncertain about me, but you, you trust me with your child.”
“I trust her instincts,” I corrected. “Are you enjoying the music?”
“I am, though it’s unlike my people’s. Thank you, sir. Thank you for inviting us. Thank you for trusting me.” Her words, of course, came from her translator, with little or no inflection.
“We have a saying from one of our religious books,” I told her, “‘Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings’. Children often see things more clearly than adults, and act on them without restraint. Katy would not have come to you if she sensed that you were dangerous to her.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “Yes,” she said, “We have a similar adage. ‘Children see below the surface and have not learned to distrust’.”
A bell rang, indicating the resumption of the music. “Will you come with me, Katy?”
Katy shook her head. “Wanna stay with Ree.”
I looked at the alien, who said, “Ree is my little name for friends. I am happy to hold Katy if that’s acceptable.”
I nodded again. It seemed that communication worked. “Just send or bring her if you get tired of holding her.”
“I am enjoying it. Reminds me of my little sister.”
I went back to my place as the ensemble reassembled.
The next piece was a favourite of mine, ‘Dance of the Polovtsian Maidens’ by Alexander Borodin, and a small group of young ladies danced to the music for us. They, and the ensemble, received a well-deserved standing ovation. The concert ended with ‘Spiegel im spiegel’ from Anya on the Steinway, with a violinist I couldn’t name, and the hall slowly emptied. I found Commander Zdreeth still holding a sleeping Katya. Katy was still clinging like a limpet to her neck.
When I tried to take her, she protested without waking. When Anya tried the same thing happened.
“I will carry her to your home,” the alien suggested. “Perhaps she will let me place her in her bed.”
So it was. Katy surfaced just enough to allow our visitor and Anya to undress her and to use the toilet, though she insisted on holding ‘Ree’s’ hand until she returned to sleep, tucked into bed.
Leila Trivedi: