Aliens From Space by Robert Silverberg (as David Osborn)

Author:Robert Silverberg (as David Osborn) [Silverberg, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi, Science Fiction
Publisher: Avalon Books
Published: 1958-01-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VIII

An hour later he was looking at Domrain again. The delegates had gathered in one of the hotel lounges to watch the Morotan's talk, on video. By now the group was somewhat larger, thanks to a few arrivals on the late intercontinental rockets. Raman's wife had come from India--a handsome young woman with the characteristic dignified beauty of her people. Chang's wife was there, too, quiet in the corner, a lovely girl, and next to her was Sir Adrian's wife, Lady Cross--a woman in her late forties, poised and elegant.

Senator Morris' wife had flown in from California, too; she was younger than Morris--no more than thirty or thirty-five--and she had a forceful, pushy manner about her that was not much different from Morris' own. Completing the group was Mme. Linhares, an attractive and heavily tanned Latin American. Tanya Pirogov and Mari Brewster, old friends by now, sat together; Tanya's English was limited, but she could get along well enough in a simple conversation.

Domrain addressed the video audience for about half an hour. The cameras remained focused almost squarely on the alien's face. Brewster wondered how the hundreds of millions of viewers were reacting to the sight of the Morotan in color, live.

He spoke simply and straightforwardly, phrasing his statements with a good command of English. (As was customary on a world-wide video hookup, an interpreter's voice replaced Domrain's in non-English-speaking countries.) He told of how sorry he was that the coming of the Morotans had provoked unrest and discomfort, and of how anxious he was to assure the world that Morota intended only the most peaceful of relationships with Earth.

He said nothing about the Zugloorans or about the proposed Morotan military outpost to be set up on Earth; it was dangerous to let the public have too much jarring information too fast. Domrain painted a glowing picture of a time when Earth had totally entered into the community of worlds, when travel between stars was a commonplace for Earthmen, when aliens of all descriptions would be greeted as friends by Earth.

It was a good speech. Brewster and the other viewers in the hotel lounge were moved by Domrain's passionate sincerity, his apparently genuine anxiety over Earth's unhappiness, his deep desire to end mistrust between Earth and the Morotans.

The speech would make its intended effect, Brewster predicted. It was bound to win over large numbers of the people who had feared the aliens.

Sir Adrian, who had gone to the White House to report to the President after the evening's conference with the Morotans, arrived at the hotel a few minutes before the end of Domrain's speech. Brewster murmured to him, "How did the President react to the idea of the Zugloorans?"

"He seemed worried. He doesn't know whether or not to trust the Morotans."

"My feeling exactly."

"Nor is he sure whether it's wise to get ourselves involved in this galactic war," Sir Adrian went on, in a low voice.

"I'm not sure it is myself," Brewster said. "But I wonder--do we have any choice?"

It was a good question, but it didn't have any good answers.

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