Page 77 of The Space Traveller's Lover
“After Omega Centauri, we must have a victory conclave with all our vast fleets at the Andromeda galaxy,” Kuzhma-Or announces. Then, standing over the images of the planet that they have been transforming to their ultimate wish, in two hundred and fifty fleeting Earth days, he roars, “Suan enjie. Our Rom-Ghenshar might and wisdom will always triumph. Yeiren Ojserahni. Unshe” (This is our universe. Forever)!
CHAPTER 33
THE LAST MEETING
Earth is a precious planet. Let’s celebrate its revival.
As the first rays of sunshine bathe the pyramids’ glinting edges, all the paths leading to the towering structures fill up with people coming from all directions. The crowd moves forwards in increasingly packed expanding swathes, reined in only by the meandering banks of the splendid River Thames.
Thousands of faces merge in an awestruck euphoric thrill. Eagerly the people wait, their voices rising. They chant and applaud as if clamouring for a long-awaited encore, their enthusiastic cheers filling up the air, echoing across the sprawling squares.
“Hurrah, hurrah. Hip hip hooray! Welcome, Rom-Ghenshars.”
“Long live the Rom-Ghenshars! Long live planet Earth!” Large white banners display the words in big bold letters, waving in the wind alongside large flags with colourful designs. Some flags depict the Sun and Earth, others the twin suns Rom and Ghenshar, and Rom-Enjie. The guardian robots make their way through the crowd, dispensing drinks and boxes full of food, as well as colourful T-shirts and hats to the humans.
At each side of the ample avenues, rows of large screens atop high poles display images from the elevated stage assembled in front of the Central Grand Pyramid. The countdown in minutes and seconds flickers at thebottom of the screens. For the people waiting, the seconds are not moving fast enough.
Since they first came out of their shelters, the humans have been preparing to meet their alien visitors.
The broadcast helicopters transmit through all the ARA channels, ensuring no one can miss the most important event yet after their arduous long-suffering days.
The newly appointed ARA’s North and South generals are pacing around the stage, checking the microphones, glimpsing at the giant screens, listening to the reports from their central command. The two men keep a firm, focused posture, altogether hiding their internal nervous disposition. They must make sure they don’t repeat the mistakes of the past.
The Rom-Ghenshars have shown that they keep to their word. The robots have healed and fed the people. They have rebuilt their cities, industries, and hospitals; they’ve even brought the unstable climate under control. The Earth hasn’t had an extreme weather episode for months now. If the former generals had listened to them in the first place, millions of lives would have been saved. The order “Don’t attack our saviours” is now enshrined in all ARA’s stations.
The message for the much-anticipated meeting had come suddenly but was nonetheless well-received. The ARA broadcasting channels had been interrupted by Shaillah’s smiling face. “London, the Rom-Ghenshars want to invite the humans to our long-overdue meeting. Tomorrow, from six in the morning to late at night. A summit of friendship. A summit of celebration. A multi-world summit!”
The Rom-Ghenshars had set the time and place, but they’d never said how they would arrive. The live streaming stations and lookout telescopes frantically scour the hovering destroyer-crafts, failing to detect any giveaway signs. But all of their equipment, even to the last second, is pointing in the wrong direction.
The dazzling figures of Shaillah and Kuzhma-Or suddenly appear at the centre of the stage, making the generals jolt and momentarily lose their composure.
The large screens instantly show the striking stage images as the jubilant crowd cheers and waves in perfect lockstep, as if they had rehearsed every move for this very occasion.
“Good morning, London. Good morning, Earth,” Shaillah announces, her crystal-clear voice chiming through the loudspeakers. She smiles and waves with both hands, enticing the crowd with her warm, gracious demeanour. Her face fills every screen. It’s as if all the cameras are stuck on her rosy cheeks, glossy red lips, and expressive gaze.
“Ahhhhh!” the crowd exclaims as if everyone has been seduced all at once. Their clamour gradually turns into an expectant silence as everyone waits for the ARA generals to speak.
“Welcome, friends. Our planet is your home!” ARA’s South Region General Ali Sheik greets them in his raspy, grovelling voice. The tall, sturdy officer tries to sound as firm as he can while swelling sweat droplets cover his bald head and forehead, and his glasses briefly slide down his wet nose.
“We look forward to working together for a brighter future,” North Region General Jason S. Bowden adds in an overly enthusiastic voice. He is about to continue his speech when one of the stage assistants brings him a note. His face turns grey as he reads the grim message, but nobody is paying attention to him. Everyone’s attention is firmly focused on Kuzhma-Or’s and Shaillah’s hypnotic appearance.
“People of this glorious planet, let me introduce you to our galaxy’s supreme commander— our illustrious Kuzhma-Or!” Shaillah announces.
The imposing figure of Kuzhma-Or now takes centre stage on all the screens. His immaculate military uniform, bristling with gold decorations and badges, has all the hallmarks of a legendary invincible commander. His smooth white beard and piercing eyes, twinkling with a fearsome spark under his sleek helmet, summon the conjuring power of an all-victorious warlord.
“Sheban lai. Seya” (It is high time. Welcome)! Kuzhma-Or’s booming voice resounds across the vast square. He extends his arms from under his long black cloak as a row of multicoloured lights sparkles across his belt. His welcome message, in both English and the Rom-Ghenshar symbols, appears on all the screens.
By now, at their central broadcasting hub, the ARA technicians realise they can’t control the live transmissions. It seems that the Rom-Ghenshars has effectively taken over the worldwide broadcast.
Stunning images of alien star systems and detailed views of breathtaking landscapes of unknown planets suddenly appear on the pyramids’ sleek walls and throughout colourful holograms floating above their heads.
“We have so much to show you,” Shaillah announces, her face beaming with excitement. “We have so much to share with you. Our Supreme Commander Kuzhma-Or, illustrious veteran of countless planetary missions, blesses the Earth, this extraordinary planet, with his infinite kindness.”
“Welcome, welcome! We love you,” the people excitedly clamour over the cacophony of applause and cheers.
Shaillah’s spirited voice raises over the rowdy crowd, instantly grabbing their attention.
“We, Rom-Ghenshars, can tell you that Earth is one of the most beautiful planets in this galaxy—so delicately blue and lushly green. It’s worth our every effort to preserve it.”
