*
Tykiah hadn’t personally come to collect them, because she was obviously busy with the broadcast, so a silent half hour passed before the transport touched down in the Kolean capital, which Ted had learned was called Dreak City. It wasn’t exactly an awe inspiring name. In fact, to Ted’s human ears, it sounded all too close to “bleak,” but he supposed it was named that way for a reason.
From the first second they stepped off the transport, things got hectic. As they emerged into the lobby of the airport—they had to use a public port this time instead of a private one because there were no other landing pads close to the studio—a mass of reporters mobbed them, clicking odd-looking cameras that reminded Ted of old cell phones.
“Mr. Anderson!” one cried, speaking horrific, accented English to the point Ted didn’t even understand what he’d said. “You do interview?”
Ted held up a hand to politely decline but a surprisingly angry Alana began shoving him through the crowd. Judging by the look on her face, she did not seem to like crowds or the spotlight in the slightest and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
It was like a scene out of an old movie. There were people everywhere, and the flashes of the cameras nearly blinded Ted and made him dizzy. Never in his life had he wondered if he was epileptic, but now he wasn’t so sure. Out of the fray came Tykiah, hollering at people to back off in Kolean, as she and several security guards formed a path to the doors and out into a waiting vehicle. Ted had learned that individual cars had never caught on on Kolea because you had to sit down in one. But obviously, they had dug one up for him. It was modern-looking enough. Sleek and black—almost stereotypical as a huge government sedan. It bore a passing resemblance to Earth cars, but there were several key differences too. It was much narrower, for one thing. Ted didn’t have much time to soak it all in before Alana shoved him into the car and jumped in herself, while Tykiah brought up the rear. Like everything else on Kolea, there were harnesses attached to the walls and you were supposed to kind of kneel there. Ted fastened himself in and did just that.
The noise died suddenly as the car door snapped shut, and Tykiah instantly released a breath. Ted could watch her visibly relax, her nerves calming down. “I’m so sorry about that, Ted,” she said, clearly apologizing for the unexpected mass of people. “The media found out when you would be coming in and everybody wanted to get the first photo of you.”
“I’m sure they got a couple,” Alana muttered, looking very shaken. Did her issue with crowds go beyond uneasiness? Ted made a note to ask her later. This all seemed so far away from the peaceful pasture with the gazelle.
Tykiah shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to the broadcast center now. Macedr made the announcement earlier this morning, and the Wren just finished her interview.”
“Is Fjala still there?” Ted asked, feeling a vague desire to see her again.
But to his disappointment, Tykiah shook her head again. “No. She left before the swarm began,” she said. There was a kind of sadness in her voice, as if she’d not even been able to see her mother.
“Smart woman,” Alana commented.
Ted took a deep breath and looked out the window at the city, taking his mind off Tykiah’s demeanor and fingering the note cards in his pockets, trying to remember some of the pronunciation. This was going to be hell.
They arrived at the studio with plenty of time to spare, and after having to fight off the paparazzi again, including one little girl who managed to break through the crowd to stare up at him in disbelief—he had to hand her to a security officer—they made it safely into the building.
The studio was small and narrow, since it was in the middle of downtown and doubtlessly there hadn’t been much space available to build it. In the back there was a little entryway, a few offices, and a lounge which Tykiah and Alana ushered Ted into before closing the door.
“Sorry we’re being all secretive,” Tykiah said as Alana hurriedly translated. “I’ll brief you now more thoroughly about the interview. This is meant to be an informational session for the Kolean people. Macedr and the Wren have already been interviewed, and the interviews will air this evening. Macedr’s job was to break the news officially of the Parliament’s action. The Wren’s was to encourage support. And now you’re here to tell your story.”
“Is there anything I definitely shouldn’t say?” Ted asked, fingering his note cards again. Nervous habit, he supposed. But if he needed to cross anything off his pre-constructed speech, now would be the time to do it.
Tykiah thought about Ted’s question for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anything specific I need to tell you. I looked over your notes and said they were fine, remember? Just be calm and try not to get angry. Koleans don’t respond well to anger.”
Ted nodded. “I’ll try and remember that.”
A sharp rapping came on the door and Tykiah immediately jumped to get it. “We’re ready to film, Tykiah!” a male voice called through the door.
“All right!” Tykiah called back, motioning for Ted to get moving. “Go with him, and good luck!”
She turned to Alana. “Alana, your mother isn’t here yet, so please go with Ted and provide a translation.”
Alana looked horrified. “What? No, no I can’t.”
Tykiah looked at her. “Why?”
“Because... Because I’m not a professional translator, Tykiah!” Alana cried, her voice going higher and higher with each word. “I can’t... I can’t go on national broadcasting!”
“It would only be for the interview. You wouldn’t even need to appear on camera,” Tykiah said. “Millika is going to help the team add subtitles in post-production. You’re only there because Issar can’t speak English and Ted can’t speak Kolean. At least, not fluently.”
Alana took a deep breath and looked at Ted, as if trying to talk herself into it. She looked like there was just about anything in the world she’d rather be doing.
“Tykiah, if she doesn’t want to, she shouldn’t have to,” Ted snapped in Kolean, the words coming out much harsher than he’d intended.
The effects were almost instantaneous. Alana’s jaw dropped and she gasped, actually gasped. Tykiah looked as though someone had just cussed in front of her two year old. She took a couple of deep breaths before exiting the room, looking as though she were about to cry.
“Ted,” Alana whispered, trying to be diplomatic about it. “That... wasn’t a good idea...”
“W—What did I do?” Ted was almost as shocked as the Koleans were. Then he remembered. Koleans didn’t respond well to anger. He had just been told that. God damn it.
“I know you didn’t know,” Alana began, “but when you act angry towards someone trying to help you, it’s very personally insulting. To us, it shows you don’t truly appreciate our efforts to help.”
“I do appreciate them, Alana. More than anything.”
“I know that. And I know you’re an alien, unfamiliar with our ways. Tykiah will figure that out eventually, though you’ll need to apologize to her. Profusely. But we don’t have time for that now. You have to do the interview.”
Ted took a shaky breath and let it out. “Yes, you’re right.” Just what he needed. More stress on top of already astronomical levels of stress. A knock came on the door again, more frantic than the first, and Ted opened it to face a very harried and wide-eyed crew member. The man looked like he wanted to say something to Ted, but thought better of it. There just wasn’t the time.
“Go,” Alana said, and so Ted allowed the crew member to lead him over to the set where they filmed the show. Alana followed them, her face twisted in anxiety. Ted honestly felt sorry for her—he knew how bad crippling stage fright could be. But he wasn’t sure what, if anything, he could do about it.
The set was simple. The backdrop was a sky blue and there were two cream colored mats, a Kolean woman standing on one of them. She was only a little older than Alana, probably in her mid-thirties. She was wearin
g far too much make-up, and her feathers were dyed all sorts of different colors, from blonde to pink, and fluffed in different ways in different places on her head, like the weirdest hairdo Ted had ever seen. This was the most popular TV personality on Kolea? Apparently Koleans didn’t watch a lot of TV.
“Ted?” she said pronouncing his name reasonably well as she extended a hand to him.
“Yes. And you must be Issar,” Ted said, forming the sentence in Kolean. Alana had told him it was correct, so he hoped it was.
It must have been good, because Issar was utterly shocked. “Welcome, friend. I am so grateful you agreed to come on the show.”
Ted understood some of that, but asked Alana politely to translate for him so he could understand the parts he missed.
“Thank you. I’m glad to be here.” Ted could manage that basic sentence just fine.
“So, shall we start the interview?” Issar asked, motioning for Ted to stand on the mat next to her. He did, and it was just as comfortable as the mats in Kolean homes. He vaguely heard Issar order something and Alana inform him the camera was running as his mind began to drift.
“Today is a very special day in Kolean history,” Issar addressed the camera, not reading from any sort of paper or screen. “For the first time, our people have encountered an alien life form that does not mean to harm us, but instead needs our help to free his family and his people from the same invasion force that threatened us not so long ago. I am here with him now. His name is Ted Anderson.” The camera operator panned out, encompassing the entire set into the shot.
“So, I guess the first thing you should do is introduce yourself,” she said.
“I’m Ted Anderson,” he said, as Alana’s voice echoed his own words in a different language. “I am human, and come from a planet called Earth. I have been the guest of the Kolean people for the last three weeks, and have been warmly welcomed by everyone I’ve met.” Well, not exactly everyone, but close enough.
Issar bobbed her head, seemingly fascinated. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your stay.” She launched right into her next question. “And you were found and brought here by two officers, one from the KIS and the other from the KSS?”
“That is correct,” Ted said, not naming names.
“And your species call themselves human?”
“Yes. Modern humans, or Homo sapiens as our scientists call us, have a history on Earth stretching back over 200,000 years.”
“I see. So what do, or did, you do for a living, Ted?”
“I was an information archivist. I was responsible for preserving various documents, images, and video from the past and digitizing and organizing them.”
Issar nodded, seeming to understand what that was. “What about your family?”
Ted swallowed, mulling over his answer in his head for a moment. “I grew up with my mother, father, and older brother in a city on Earth called Baltimore,” he said. “My brother’s named Lawrence, but I have no idea where he might be now, or if he’s even still alive. I married my wife, Leslie, almost fifteen years ago, and we have a beautiful daughter, Rachel.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. “Neither of them are here with you. Do you know where they are? If they are safe?”
Ted paused. Answering that question would be difficult for him. He couldn’t make it sound like he was using his wife’s suicide as a sympathy plea, but at the same time, it was the most bitter truth. “My wife committed suicide when the Drevi forces overran our home. They took Rachel and me to a facility where they examined the human captives before sending them off to various research centers. They took Rachel away from me while we were there.” That had been the worst night of his life. He remembered sitting in the corner of the cold compound, unable to stop crying and refusing to eat anything before the Drevi soldiers forced him onto the transport that would take him to Dr. Hio’s lab. In total despair, images of his daughter flashing before his eyes, he had just wanted to die. But he couldn’t verbalize that.
In spite of his omission of some details, the studio had gone silent nonetheless. Ted could see genuine sorrow in Issar’s eyes, and suddenly he felt bad for writing her off as a goofy-looking alien with too much make-up. This affected her. It affected all Koleans. A sinking feeling swelled in his stomach as the realization of what he was doing sunk in. These were people he was going to drag into a probable war that would lead to many casualties. But Earth desperately needed their help, and he had to see this through, one way or the other. It was too late to turn back.
After several seconds, Issar regained herself. “So you’re still searching for your daughter.”
“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t my main priority when I return to Earth,” Ted responded. He honestly didn’t want to up and leave the Koleans to fight his battle—mankind’s battle, if word of his daughter’s location surfaced when he got back, but he might just have to.
“I’m sure the commanders and KIS officers with you will understand,” Issar said, though the promise was rather empty, and they all knew it. This mission was bigger than one man, no matter the individual circumstances. The fate of his species mattered more. “Can you describe your journey here?”
Ted did. He launched into the tale of his life at Dr. Hio’s lab, the guilt he felt watching his own people be subjects of the Drevi’s experiments, and his miraculous escape thanks to Alana and Trell. He described his time on Kolea, leaving out certain details, like exactly what he and the Wren had talked about and certain aspects and details about the mission. For all he knew, Drevi spies could be in hiding somewhere, or even listening in. He couldn’t be too careful.
When Ted finished his story, there was another round of silence in the studio as the tragedy soaked in. Ted wondered if that same sorrow would be on the faces of most Koleans when the program aired. A bit of guilt washed over him; he didn’t want to open old wounds for a people who had already faced the Drevi once, but then again, it was the truth.
“Do you have any more questions for me, Issar?” Ted asked, shattering the silence.
“No. No, I don’t think so,” Issar finally said, folding her notes in half. “Thank you for your time, Ted, for sharing your story. I wish you the best of luck on your voyage tomorrow.”
The cameras stopped rolling with a noticeable buzz as Issar gave a respectful bow and hurried away to... wherever she was going. Alana glanced over at Ted. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, releasing a deep breath. “What about you?”
“I survived,” Alana said, fluffing her crimson feathers. Despite her words, she sounded tired, and Ted would never be more grateful for her interpreting skills and her willingness to help him than he was at that moment.
Suddenly, the back doors burst open and Millika barged in, wide-eyed and harried. “Did I miss the interview?” she said, whipping off her scarf and looking around the studio wearily.
“You did,” Alana said.
“But how did... Did you translate?”
“Don’t remind me,” Alana muttered.
Millika’s face scrunched up as she reached forward and pulled Alana into an embrace. It was the first time Ted had seen Koleans hug, and he was rather surprised by it. Apparently the studio crew were as well, since they watched with stunned eyes.
Millika pulled away, the moment broken. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, dearest. I’ll get back in the editing room and help them do the subtitles. Would you take Ted home? I’m sure he wants to rest before tomorrow.”
She nodded. “You don’t need to tell me twice.”
They snuck out a side entrance of the studio to avoid the crowds and got back into the car that would take them to the airport.
VIII