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Life Is One

by Marian Allen

The planetary ambassadors, forced into unwonted proximity in the safe room, each reacted in their own particular way, each way affected by – to be quite honest – the characters of their planets. Although the motto … slogan … headline … what you will of the Sentient Congress was Life Is One, it was undeniable that life might be one but expressions were different.

Years of work in diplomacy had ingrained habits of accommodation to what had become, by unspoken consent, a “standard” presentation, more or less adhered to by any diplomat who had advanced enough in the discipline to make it to the Congress. Now, under duress, cracks appeared in the veneer and true personalities (shaped, as has been said, by planetary character) showed through.

Anderon’s limbs stiffened and elongated, so that they towered over everyone else. Their voice became thin and frail-sounding, although the inner strength of Anderons was well known.

“Whhhhhere is my family?” they breathed. “Bring them hhhhhere to me.”

The head of security, a light brown human, said, “Everyone’s family is safe. This room is too small for all dependents. They’re safe and secure.”

“All together?” asked Brule, now low to the ground and spread over what the other ambassadors felt was more than their share of space.

A wave of shock ran through the ambassadors at this question. It was one thing for them to associate with people of other planets; it was quite another thing to expect civilians to be subjected to the ordeal.

“Each in their own space,” Security said. Her training had enabled her to react and reply without showing the contempt she felt for such parochialism on the parts of sentient beings who had dedicated their lives to pretending they welcomed working together.

Eddragar moaned. They were the newest addition to the Congress, and wasn’t yet hardened to the ordeal of physical contact with other planetary beings. Their color was darker than anyone had ever seen it, and they were obviously weakening, their vitality failing.

The other ambassadors crowded around Eddragar, some touching their drooping limbs, some brushing their core with tendrils, each administering care as their species’ did for their own.

Eddragar’s moans became groans and they shivered and wilted more.

Brule, the longest serving ambassador, said, “We’re making them worse. Security! Help Eddragar move to one side of the room. We must all move away.”

The other ambassadors forced themselves closer together to put more space between themselves and the stricken being. Security used her grav-nav device to move Eddragar without touching them and so making their distress worse.

It was most uncomfortable, being so close to alien beings, but it didn’t occur to any of the ambassadors to resent Eddragar for forcing it. Eddragar was young and inexperienced, and they were old hands at this. And, after all, Life Is One.

MY PROMPT FOR TODAY: A dream I had last night about a natural disaster that brought people together, and this picture of my herbs, on a latticework table to protect them from the groundhog. The purple basil is drooping, for some reason.

MA