We come from a world where we have known
incredible standards of excellence....
--Thornton Wilder
President Allison, the dozen aliens, and their entourage rolled
smoothly down to United Nations headquarters in their limousines and
were whizzed up to the 38th-floor skyscraper office of Nils Nilsen.
They ignored a ramshackle group of writers who were picketing in
UN Plaza. Two of the writers wore beards and all of them looked
self-conscious. One of the placards they carried said: SCIENCE FICTION
WRITERS' GUILD--ALIENS UNFAIR TO SCIENCE FICTION. Another said:
SPACEMEN GO HOME; YOU'RE RUINING OUR RACKET. A handful of subteenagers,
clutching copies of _Galaxy_ and _Fantasy & Science Fiction_, gave them
an occasional cheer and occasionally a new arrival sought an autograph.
The UN police looked on tolerantly. One of them said: "Poor guys. First
sputniks. Then Moon rockets. Now this."
The President, the Secretary-General and the aliens, each of whom had
picked up a dispatch case to go with his Earth-style suit, came down
the elevator and went to the Security Council chamber.
The Council was called to order. Allison read his speech proposing
membership for Monolithia. The chief delegate of the space nation was
invited to address the Council. He read his speech, five hundred words
of platitudes which didn't deviate by a comma from the advance copy
Eurydice Playfair had delivered to the wire service overnight.
The Council voted unanimously, 11 to 0, to recommend that Monolithia
be admitted. The Council adjourned and Nils Nilsen called the General
Assembly into extraordinary session for that afternoon. The Assembly
met at 3 P.M., unanimously voted Monolithia in, then adjourned until
its regular September session.
The UN thus became an interplanetary organization, with Monolithia
pledged to uphold its peaceful humanitarian aims.
It had been an easy story for the desk to handle and we had it all
wrapped up before my relief came in.
Then Riddie called and said the aliens had scheduled their first press
conference for 6 P.M. in her suite at the Waldorf. I asked John Hyatt
if he wanted me to cover it.
"I don't think you need bother, Sam," he said. "The reinforcements from
Chicago arrived this morning. We'll send Red Melville and a couple of
his juniors to help Reb. They haven't had a big story since the Chicago
fire."
"Okay, John. I'd as soon watch it on television."
As I was driving home from the end of the bus line I heard on the car
radio that Congress had voted to give the Monolithians the freedom of
the United States. The Senate, reassured by the aliens' acceptance
of the principles of the UN, had originated the bill and the House
immediately shouted it through. The President signed it on his return
from New York, saying it gave him great pleasure inasmuch as it
granted the visitors from space all the rights and privileges of U.S.
citizenship.
Mae fixed us an armchair buffet and we ate while we watched the press
conference on TV.
There was the usual milling around at the start. I saw Reb Sylvester,
putting in overtime, and Red Melville and a few other reporters I
recognized from the wire services and papers. Eurydice Playfair and two
of the aliens sat at a table on which was a cluster of microphones. An
announcer for the television network was describing what we were seeing
and giving us background information we already knew.
"I see your friend Eurydice is doing all right for herself," Mae said,
full of those overtones a wife has for any female in the office who is
under sixty.
"Mn," I said. "She quit us. Shh."
The television announcer made some introductory remarks, then Riddie
made some and introduced one of the aliens (who were wearing their
Young Men's suits) as Mr. Reev. She spelled the name.
"Are there any questions?" she asked, and there was a roar of laughter
as dozens of hands shot up.
Reev, smiling, indicated the AP man, who asked where exactly Monolithia
was.
Reev began an involved answer which Riddie interrupted, saying a fact
sheet containing technical data would be distributed after the press
conference.
The UPI man asked what Reev's exact title was.
"Permanent representative to the United Nations from Monolithia," he
replied.
WW's Reb Sylvester, apparently referring to Stew Macon's piece on the
definition of monolithic, noted that this referred to any massive
homogeneous whole, such as a state or an organization. "Is there any
significance to this term," he asked, "which as you know has been
applied in the past to the government of the Soviet Union?"
"We have no connection with the Soviet Union," Reev said, "except
those we have established with it and more than eighty other countries
through the United Nations." He added with a smile: "As your
definitions note, we are homogenized, like your milk."
Amid laughter, Reb asked: "Would you describe your government as a
democratic one?"
"Utterly," Reev said. There was no trace of accent in his speech. The
clicking Ian McEachern had noticed in the voice of the Monolithian he
had spoken to on the phone at Burning Tree was entirely absent, as if
they had perfected their study of English.
A Canadian Press man noted that "reeve" is a term his country uses for
the president of a village or town council, and asked if there was any
significance in the fact that Reev's name was almost identical. Reev
looked baffled, but Riddie said it was merely coincidence. The CP man
then asked the name of the other Monolithian.
"Jain," he said, spelling it. He added with a smile: "No significance;
it's just a name."
A man from Reuters asked if the Monolithians were aware that President
Allison had signed a bill making them honorary citizens of the United
States.
"We are grateful for that," Reev said. "But I think you will find that
the new law bestows full, not honorary, citizenship."
"Are you prepared to live up to the laws of the United States?" an
unidentified reporter asked.
"Fully," Reev replied. "And to those of the United Nations. Not only to
the letter but to the spirit of the law."
"Do you believe those laws to be fair?"
"The Constitution of the United States and the Charter of the United
Nations appear to be the most perfect examples of humanitarian
principles we have encountered anywhere in our travels," Reev said.
Jain nodded agreement.
"How many of you are there?" an NBC man asked.
"Twelve of us here in New York," Reev said. "An equal number at Burning
Tree. Then, of course, there are hundreds of us in each of the mother
ships."
"The mother ships? What are they?"
"The craft which actually made the interstellar journey. They are
moored, as some of your press accounts have indicated, outside your
atmosphere."
"How far out?"
"As far out as the Moon, but exactly opposite it, on the other side of
the Earth."
"Is that why we had no warning of your approach from the observatory on
the Moon?"
"Probably. That's the way we planned it."
"Are those ships armed?"
"All our craft are armed, but only with defensive weapons. We travel
only in peace and molest only those who would molest us."
There was a stir among the reporters, and a man from _Missiles and
Rockets Magazine_ asked for a description of the weapons.
"I am afraid that is what you would term classified information. Our
representatives and those of your Defense Department and the United
Nations Secretariat have scheduled a meeting to discuss possible
exchange of information touching on these weapons--which I emphasize
are strictly defensive in nature."
"Are you armed personally?" the AP man asked.
"We do not carry concealed weapons, if that's what you mean," Reev
said. "But we are capable of defending ourselves against any attack on
ourselves or our friends. I don't wish to sound ungrateful, but the
elaborate security guard provided for us and your President when he
traveled with us was quite superfluous."
"I don't suppose," one of the television men said, "you'd be willing
to give us a demonstration of your defense weapon? It'd make quite a
graphic picture for the television audience."
"We'd be glad to," Reev said, "if you could suggest a way."
"Well," the TV man said, looking around the room, "I could throw one of
these big, glass Waldorf ashtrays at you...."
"Now wait a minute," one of the other reporters said. "We don't want
glass shrapnel flying around the room."
"No one will be hurt," Reev said. "You will see. I suggest you focus
one of your cameras here." He indicated a spot about two feet in front
of his face.
"Okay," the TV man said. He picked up the ashtray, which was a good
eight inches in diameter, and hefted it.
"Empty the cigarette butts first, at least," someone said.