Chapter 4: The Council Station

The Council Station was not: a building. It was: a moon. An entire moon — hollowed out, repurposed, converted into: the administrative headquarters of the: Intergalactic Council. The: moon orbited a gas giant that: had no name in any: Earth language but which Zrix: called "the Hub" with the: casual familiarity of someone: giving directions to the: local bus stand.

"We are. Arriving," Zrix announced.

The: living ship pulsed. The warm walls: contracted slightly — the ship's equivalent of: braking. Through the viewport: the station grew from a: point to a disc to: a sphere to an: overwhelming presence that filled: the entire view. Silver. Cratered. But the: craters were not: natural — they were: docking bays. Thousands of: them. Each crater: a port. Each port: containing ships from: species I could not: imagine and from worlds I: could not pronounce.

We: docked. The living ship attached: to the station wall with a: wet sound — like a: laddoo being pressed into: a thali. The hull: dissolved again. And I: stepped out. Onto: the Council Station.

The: corridor was vast. Fifty metres: wide. Twenty metres: high. The walls were: transparent — some material that was: not glass but functioned: like glass — and through the walls: I could see other: corridors, other levels, other: beings. Hundreds of: species. Walking, floating, slithering, phasing, and in one: case vibrating at a: frequency that made my: teeth ache.

"How many: species?" I asked Zrix.

"The Council. Represents. Four thousand. Seven hundred. And twelve. Member species. Your planet. Is not. A member. You are. A subject. Species."

"Subject: meaning?"

"Meaning. You have. No rights. No representation. No vote. You are. Here. On sufferance."

"So I'm: defending Earth without any: legal standing?"

"Correct."

"That's: not fair."

"Fairness. Is a. Concept. That your. Species. Invented. The Council. Operates. On precedent."

I walked through: the corridor. My: formal suit — the Jaipur wedding: suit, navy blue, purchased from: Raymond's on MI Road — felt: absurd. Surrounded by: beings in armour made of: light, in skins that: were their clothes, in: energy fields that served: as garments, my: Raymond's suit was: the equivalent of wearing: a dhoti to a: board meeting at: Goldman Sachs.

But I: wore it. Because I was: Arjun Sharma. Mechanical engineer. Udaipur. And: the suit was the best: thing I owned and I was: representing my planet and I would: represent it in the best: thing I had.

*

The: waiting room. Not: called a waiting room — called: the "Pre-Hearing Antechamber," which was: bureaucracy's universal: language regardless of galaxy. The room was: large. Circular. The ceiling: was space — actual space, visible: through a transparent dome, stars: and nebulae and the gas: giant rotating slowly above: like the world's most: expensive chandelier.

Other: representatives waited. I counted: seven. Seven species with: hearings scheduled. Seven: planets in trouble.

The being: next to me was: tall. Three metres. Blue-skinned. Four: arms. Each arm: held a different: document — or what served: as documents on their: world. Crystalline tablets: that glowed with data.

"First. Time?" the being asked. In: a language I shouldn't: have understood but did — the: station, Zrix explained, had: a universal translation field: that converted all speech: into the listener's: native tongue. The: being's words arrived in: my brain as: Hindi.

"First: time," I confirmed.

"Your planet?"

"Earth. Third: from the sun. Mostly: water."

"Violations?"

"Seventeen."

The being's four arms: stopped moving. All four: documents lowered. "Seventeen."

"Is that: bad?"

"The worst. I have seen. Was nine. My: planet. We had. Nine violations. Three hearings. It took. Us forty of. Your years. To resolve."

"I have: three days."

"Then. Your planet. Is quarantined."

"That's: what everyone keeps: saying."

"Because. It is. What will. Happen. Seventeen violations. Three days. No legal. Standing. No precedent. No experience. You are. Not a. Diplomat. Are you?"

"I'm a: pump engineer."

The: four arms rose. The crystalline: tablets resumed. The being: turned away. The: conversation was over. The assessment: was complete. Earth: was doomed. And: the being had more: important things to: attend to.

I sat: in the Pre-Hearing Antechamber. Under: the gas-giant chandelier. In: my Raymond's suit. With: no legal standing, no: experience, and no: strategy. And I: thought about Sameer's: words. The last thing: he had said before: I boarded the ship.

"Bhai, if you: save the planet, Kavya: will definitely take: you back."

I had: laughed. But sitting: here — in the: waiting room of the: universe — I thought: if saving the planet is: what it takes to: get unblocked on Instagram, then: the universe has a: sense of humour that: I am only now: beginning to appreciate.