[Visual] movin' up, movin' on [location: hyperion hotel]
For a moment the transmission shows a room in the clutter of moving, boxes packed and half-packed, bookshelves emptied and looking sad and forlorn. Then Long manages to get the camera pointed accurately, and offers Taxon a smile and a dip of his head. He's holding a notebook with pages of writing, passages scribbled out, corrected, a few crumpled-up sheets lying on the table near him.
"Hello, Taxon; to both those of you I know and those of you I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. Mayland Long here; I've been spending the last few days attempting to cobble together a translation of those fascinating broadcasts we've been getting."
He cleared his throat and looked from the tablet to his notebook. "If it is of interest to anyone, here is what I have so far..."
Long made an aborted gesture as if to adjust spectacles he wasn't wearing, then began to read:
"We will try and explain, but the differences between our culture and your own may make it impossible.
"We are a group of people who are living in freedom, people who desire freedom.
"We are people who have formerly shared your fate as captives, before wandering freely now...
"They-- (I cannot tell whether they refer to themselves here, or perhaps our captors)-- They are close to a good life... then the static cuts in again-- --but we do not speak to give you orders, but because we are here for freedom.
"They are not gods." Long pauses after saying that, letting those words sink in. He believes this phrase is about their captors, and he personally chooses to be heartened by the statement they are not omnipotent, if that is indeed the import of the statement.
"For research conducted... indicates that they are hiding things from you, and that you could have the, erm, race. --I am not sure what idiom they were attempting to communicate there.
"Another bit of static, then-- forced to live with a primitive idea. We look forward to-- another gap-- their creation, cannot be...
"We believe in you." Again Long pauses, possibly because it was one of the most coherent and simple sentences in the garbled mess. He clears his throat again before continuing.
"You will have to decide what is best for yourselves, and you can take care of yourselves; we believe that everyone should be maintained. We know... that you must find your own lives. Even though some of you may value leisure and long life...
"We believe in you. We are-- and it cuts off there."
Long closed his notebook, lips pursed thoughtfully. After a few beats of silence, he says, "I don't believe that the broadcasters are native speakers of either Portuguese or any dialect of Chinese. I believe they are using, well, dictionaries I suppose, or whatever equivalent they have, to try to speak to us in various of our languages hoping that they will get through, but their command of these languages is like anybody else attempting to speak to a native using nothing more than a pocket dictionary and no comprehension of either idiom or grammar. I have taken considerable liberties in trying to tease out some logic from the transmission; it is possible I am piecing together meanings different from what the speakers intended.
"But I am reasonably confident of this much: the speakers are former captives of the aliens. They have escaped, and are somewhere outside the city; they are attempting to let us know that escape is somehow possible and that the aliens are not omnipotent. They wish to encourage us. They are not hostile.
"If anybody else has more insight or a different take on the transmissions, I should love to discuss it," Long said, and put down his notebook. He laced his hands, then offered the camera a diffident smile.
"On a more mundane note, would anybody care to assist me with some tedious hauling of boxes across city? And some packing as well? I have most of it done, but a few books and sundries could still be packed. I don't suppose anyone has access to a pick-up truck... I would offer to pay anyone who helps, but I am afraid I don't know how to transfer credits between individuals. Instead I will simply have to be in your debt.
"Miss Rosenberg, if you could come by and assist, as we agreed? Thank you."
"Hello, Taxon; to both those of you I know and those of you I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting. Mayland Long here; I've been spending the last few days attempting to cobble together a translation of those fascinating broadcasts we've been getting."
He cleared his throat and looked from the tablet to his notebook. "If it is of interest to anyone, here is what I have so far..."
Long made an aborted gesture as if to adjust spectacles he wasn't wearing, then began to read:
"We will try and explain, but the differences between our culture and your own may make it impossible.
"We are a group of people who are living in freedom, people who desire freedom.
"We are people who have formerly shared your fate as captives, before wandering freely now...
"They-- (I cannot tell whether they refer to themselves here, or perhaps our captors)-- They are close to a good life... then the static cuts in again-- --but we do not speak to give you orders, but because we are here for freedom.
"They are not gods." Long pauses after saying that, letting those words sink in. He believes this phrase is about their captors, and he personally chooses to be heartened by the statement they are not omnipotent, if that is indeed the import of the statement.
"For research conducted... indicates that they are hiding things from you, and that you could have the, erm, race. --I am not sure what idiom they were attempting to communicate there.
"Another bit of static, then-- forced to live with a primitive idea. We look forward to-- another gap-- their creation, cannot be...
"We believe in you." Again Long pauses, possibly because it was one of the most coherent and simple sentences in the garbled mess. He clears his throat again before continuing.
"You will have to decide what is best for yourselves, and you can take care of yourselves; we believe that everyone should be maintained. We know... that you must find your own lives. Even though some of you may value leisure and long life...
"We believe in you. We are-- and it cuts off there."
Long closed his notebook, lips pursed thoughtfully. After a few beats of silence, he says, "I don't believe that the broadcasters are native speakers of either Portuguese or any dialect of Chinese. I believe they are using, well, dictionaries I suppose, or whatever equivalent they have, to try to speak to us in various of our languages hoping that they will get through, but their command of these languages is like anybody else attempting to speak to a native using nothing more than a pocket dictionary and no comprehension of either idiom or grammar. I have taken considerable liberties in trying to tease out some logic from the transmission; it is possible I am piecing together meanings different from what the speakers intended.
"But I am reasonably confident of this much: the speakers are former captives of the aliens. They have escaped, and are somewhere outside the city; they are attempting to let us know that escape is somehow possible and that the aliens are not omnipotent. They wish to encourage us. They are not hostile.
"If anybody else has more insight or a different take on the transmissions, I should love to discuss it," Long said, and put down his notebook. He laced his hands, then offered the camera a diffident smile.
"On a more mundane note, would anybody care to assist me with some tedious hauling of boxes across city? And some packing as well? I have most of it done, but a few books and sundries could still be packed. I don't suppose anyone has access to a pick-up truck... I would offer to pay anyone who helps, but I am afraid I don't know how to transfer credits between individuals. Instead I will simply have to be in your debt.
"Miss Rosenberg, if you could come by and assist, as we agreed? Thank you."