Ambassador

fiction by michael werneburg

I looked from one to the other, and back at the screen when the live footage resumed. There was the young Dalai Lama, shaking hands with the secretary-general of the UN. Then the presidents of France and Brazil were greeting our Prime Minister. Everyone was ignoring the wind and drizzle and looked downright pleased with themselves. In all of history, not many firsts would beat First Contact, and their names would be immortalized. Time was now short—the whole thing would be starting soon.

"Look," I said, not taking my eyes from the screen, "you two aren't thinking–"

"Oh yes, we are," Cuong said, cutting me off. Breathlessly, he said, "It explains so much: its lack of response to speech or signing or music; its failure to complete the pattern matching or the mathematical puzzles. The underdeveloped communication center in its brain. It probably communicates, but in a limited way we haven't discovered not only because it's alien but because it's not sentient. We can't get an explanation of its mission or technology because they're not its mission or technology. A different species sent that poor creature across light-years as a test!"

As the image panned across the dignitaries, I caught a glimpse of the young woman from the Prime Minister's office who'd contacted me about this job in the first place. The daughter of an old colleague from decades before. I looked at Jane. "Well?" I asked.

But Jane just nodded at the television slowly, not saying a word. She had gone flush. "This was supposed to make my career. I've been talking to three top Universities...."

Cuong began to laugh. I watched him bouncing his fists lightly on the table with delight. "Rover's a space monkey!" Cuong exclaimed. "Extraterrestrial space monkey!"

Jane gave him a sour look.

"Have either of you heard of Laika?" I asked. I got two blank looks in response. "Laika was a stray dog from Moscow who became the first animal to orbit Earth and return, in 1957."

Cuong consulted his phone. "Looks like the first chimp was in '61. Named Ham."

I realized that it simply hadn't occurred to any of them to consult with our own history of space exploration while conducting their research. And it hadn't occurred to me to ask if they'd brushed up on something I'd seen as a kid way back in the 1970's. Arithmetic told me that these would have been in grade school in the 2000's and 2010's. Had that been too late perhaps to learn about the likes of Laika and Ham? I looked back at the screen. I told the scientists, "The world's leaders are about to introduce themselves to some distant planet's chimpanzee. Or maybe dog."

Jane leaned forward, her chin on her hand. "Won't we look silly when the space craft's true designers arrive?"

Cuong looked at her, his brow furrowed. Gesturing with his phone, he said, "It says here that the first manned flight was the same year as Ham's flight."

Jane gave him a tired look. "So you're saying we have maybe a few months?"

The waitress had listened to all of this. She laughed and walked toward the characters at the bar. "Hey, you should hear this!"

I watched her go in dismay. Our failure was going to lead to humiliating embarrassment at the highest levels of international government. But then I realized with a start that I could still head this off. I reached for my phone and headed outside to call young Anika from the PMO. Maybe I'd land that pay-day after all!