Hello, dreamers! I’m pleased to announce the release of my first novella, The Envoy!
The Envoy follows David Ferguson, a career diplomat with the United Nations. Ninety years after humanity was first contacted by the Cheron, David is assigned to the first envoy of an alien species. But when the envoy appears to be a human child, he makes the fateful decision to become the envoy’s guardian. And ultimately, he finds himself experiencing something unexpected: parenthood.
I regard this story as one of the best, most innovative pieces I’ve ever written: something that challenges the very concept of science fiction literature. It ended up being a deeply-personal story for me, inspired by my own journey into parenthood. The result was a touching, surprisingly human story of science fiction, one that I’m thrilled to share with my beloved readers.
To celebrate this occasion, and thank my loyal dreamers, please enjoy the complete first chapter of The Envoy:
Guardian
It was a beautiful day. The sun shone bright overhead, a soft breeze whipped through his jacket. He adjusted his suit again, smoothing out a few wrinkles and buttoning up against the breeze. Everything had to be perfect. First impressions were everything.
As he joined the assemblage before the aperture, he was dismayed to find he was last to arrive. But no doubt their anticipated visitor wouldn’t ask who had arrived first. Decades of careful planning and preparation had all led to this moment, one unlike any other humanity had before witnessed. And for David Ferguson, it represented the culmination of a lifetime of diplomatic service.
It had been ninety years, nearly a century, since they’d made contact. After so much speculation, it was hard to imagine their first contact had occurred on Earth, much less at a time when space travel was still in its infancy. But in a once-secret lab in a sun-baked desert, man had discovered he was not alone in the cosmos.
Much had changed since then. A device, now known as the aperture, had been built and moved to a plaza outside the United Nations building, where he now stood with a small throng of dignitaries from every major government on Earth. They’d tried to maintain contact, but it had been difficult, until now. Today, humans would receive their first visitor from another world. And today marked the start of the most challenging assignment of David’s career.
“Dave,” a man near the back of the throng greeted him with a nod, which he returned.
“Ambassador,” he replied, dutifully. Ryan Kelly was among his closest friends, and had served as the United States ambassador to the United Nations for nearly twelve years.
“Nervous?” Kelly asked.
“No,” David lied.
“Really?” Kelly asked, incredulous. “Hell, if it was me, I’d be scared to death.”
Despite having been in contact with them for nearly a century, humanity knew very little about the Cheron. Attempts had been made to press them for information, yet beyond providing schematics for the aperture, they’d been elusive. Mankind knew little about their technology, their culture, their planet. Indeed, they knew little about the Cheron themselves, beyond having been told they were “very different” from humans.
After so many years of frustration, it came as a surprise when, only months earlier, the Cheron had abruptly contacted them. The message was simple: “Prepare to receive our envoy”, accompanied with a date and time. That was all. They had no idea who, or what, to expect. Only that, in less than five minutes, Earth would receive its first ambassador from another intelligent species.
As with the others in attendance, David had been furnished with sunglasses. Having viewed footage of the aperture opening, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Placebo effect was his assumption. A nearby clock counted down the minutes to opening, now two minutes and counting. Around him, many of the attendees now donned their sunglasses, suggesting most of them were unfamiliar with the device. As the clock hit one minute, the wind seemed to pick up, blowing pages from folders as the attendees grasped their lapels. At thirty seconds, all eyes were on the aperture. No doubt many were expecting a flash, perhaps a loud boom. Many would be disappointed.
It began with a hum: a low, electric sound as the capacitors charged. Superconductors slid into place around the ring. As they aligned there was the briefest arc of electricity, a crackle of lightning across the ring. The area within the ring began to warp and skew. It seemed to bubble outward. The lensing effect was disorienting; a few of the attendees looked away, growing ill. What happened next, no one knew. This was the moment all of them had come to see.
David strained his eyes, wishing he was closer. He’d read countless papers on the physics of the aperture, finding it largely impenetrable. The event horizon continued to twist and skew. Colors seemed to run together and part again, swirl and morph. He wondered what they were seeing. Were they looking at the other side, distorted by gravitational lensing? Was he gazing upon an alien world?
The image began to quiver. A moment later, a ripple appeared, and a single individual emerged. The assemblage gasped in unison. For his part, David merely stared, confused. He turned to Kelly, finding him every bit as perplexed.
“I…” Kelly stammered, “I don’t understand. Weren’t we expecting an alien?”
David turned back toward the podium. She looked to be about nine or ten years old, short and thin. From her curled hair to her long skirt, the white socks and Mary Jane shoes, she looked almost comically out of place, as though wearing a costume. What was this? Was she human? She appeared to be: brown hair, round face, wide eyes. Yet her dress, her hairstyle, the bright red headband, all looked as though plucked from a catalog circa 1963.
Was this some sort of joke?
As the child stood motionless, seeming to survey the crowd, the silence gave way to hushed whispers. Hoping to cut through the confusion, Kelly stepped forward, motioning for David to join him. The two walked briskly toward the platform, then up the stairs, until they were standing before the aperture. There, they found the secretary general standing with a gaggle of functionaries, all clustered tightly around their young visitor.
“…and these are the current heads of UNESCO, and the Security Council,” the secretary general was saying, motioning appropriately to the man and woman standing to his left. He paused, noticing the new arrivals. Looking up at them with the quick smile of a politician, he went on, “Oh! And this is the United States ambassador to our organization, Ambassador Ry-”
“United…States…” their visitor repeated, haltingly. David’s jaw dropped. She could speak.
The SecGen nodded slowly. “Yes…” he replied. “It is one of the nations on our planet. This complex is located within their borders.”
David took the opportunity to study her closely. She certainly looked like a human child, yet something about her made him uncomfortable. Every time he looked at her eyes, he felt his skin crawl. It took a moment for him to realize what it was: she didn’t smile. No smiles, no laughter. He’d always associated children with giggling and wide grins. Something about a child so expressionless felt deeply unsettling.
“United States,” she repeated. “A populous, ethnically-heterogeneous nation-state on the American landmass.” She paused, looking around as though appraising her surroundings. “This is one of your newer nation-states, if I am correct. Why does it serve as the seat of your global government?”
“Er…” the SecGen stammered, awkwardly, “We…do not have a global government…”
“Not yet,” David offered with a disarming smile. “But we’re working on it.” He approached her, pushing his discomfort aside in hopes of a good first impression. “Hi,” he began. He was unsure of whether to treat her as a visiting dignitary or a child, and ultimately settled on informality. “I’m David.”
She stared at him quizzically. “What is a ‘David’?” she asked, confused.
“It’s…his name…” Kelly replied from behind him, haltingly.
While the others were clearly confused, David understood. He’d spent years preparing for this moment; preparations that included extensive reading on theoretical interactions with alien species.
“‘David’ is my name,” he began, gesturing toward his chest for effect. “Our species uses names to differentiate between individuals.”
“It’s how we tell each other apart,” Kelly offered.
“I see,” she replied. She paused for a moment, thinking, before looking back up at David. “I will require a name,” she declared.
David exchanged awkward glances with Kelly and the others. Eventually, it was the SecGen who voiced their confusion.
“I apologize if we seem…uncomfortable…” he began, haltingly. “You see, we were told to expect-”
“An alien,” Kelly finished for him.
The girl nodded slowly. “Your confusion is understandable,” she allowed.
“I mean, your own people said you were ‘very different’ from us, right?” Kelly went on. “From where I’m standing, we couldn’t be much more alike.”
“I am the envoy sent by my people,” she began. “However, we have learned through experience that encounters such as these are often expedited by providing a suitable framework for discourse.”
“So…you adopt a form we’ll be more comfortable with…” David observed, softly. He had to admit, it was sensible; opening dialogue with an alien species could prove impossibly complex without first establishing a common frame of reference. One of the two parties needed to take the first step, bending to accommodate the other. The Cheron, it seemed, were happy to do so.
“That is effectively correct, yes,” she replied.
Kelly leaned forward, focusing on one particular word. “…’effectively’?”
The girl paused before responding, as though searching for a way to simplify the explanation. “What you see is not a disguise. There is no deception at work.”
“You mean you are human?” David asked, shocked.
She nodded. “By any reasonable measure. Though I assume you will wish to perform tests to confirm this.”
“You assume correctly,” Kelly replied. He gently grabbed David’s arm, pulling him aside.
David looked at him sideways, lowering his voice. “NYU?”
Kelly nodded. “It’s the closest biology lab, and they’ve handled a lot of exo-stuff for us over the past few years.” He paused, looking toward their guest as though gauging whether or not she could hear them. “You, uh…” he stammered, “you think it could be true?”
“That she’s human?” David asked, looking over at their guest as well. He sighed heavily. “Look, we know almost nothing about these…people. Their culture, their tech…we don’t even know what they look like. So, do I think it’s possible?” He paused, turning back to Kelly. “Ryan, we’re standing in front of an Einstein-Rosen bridge, where we’ve spent decades communicating with aliens…” he trailed off, looking back at their guest. “What does ‘possible’ even mean anymore?”
David hated hospitals. Worst was the smell: the odor of fresh plastic and disinfectant, mixed with burnt coffee. Invariably it conjured images of surgical masks and bloody latex, of tubes and ventilators, and the infernal beeping of EKGs. He hadn’t been in a hospital in years. He hated being in one now.
With Kelly and their guest, he’d been rushed to NYU Langone, where a group of medical personnel cleared for exo work would examine their guest. Upon arrival, the child had been placed on a gurney and wheeled off, a small gaggle of doctors and nurses closing around her like a wave. Soon after, a hospital functionary had arrived, ushering the retinue to a set of sofas and chairs to wait. There they remained. It had been several hours. David shifted anxiously on his feet. The area they’d been shown to was fairly comfortable; in contrast to the typical “hospital” layout. It was tall and airy, the seats soft. But they were still in a hospital. The walls and floors were impeccable stark white. Many of those passing by wore lab coats or scrubs. And nothing could disguise the smell.
Feeling more anxious by the second, David leaned toward Kelly, whispering. “Feels like it’s been a while.” By his reckoning, it felt as though several years had passed.
Kelly turned away from the security officer he’d been speaking with. “Has it?”
David sighed in frustration. “I just feel like…I dunno. Like it’s taking a long time. Too long.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow, quizzically. “And just how long is examining an alien visitor supposed to take?”
David shook his head. “I know, I know. I just…”
Kelly nodded, knowingly. “It’s this place, isn’t it?”
David nodded solemnly.
Kelly turned to him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dave. I never got the chance to-”
“Ambassador Kelly?” Both Kelly and David turned to find a middle-aged woman walking briskly toward them. The lab coat she wore suggested she was a doctor; the tablet in her hand suggested she had news.
“That’s me,” Kelly replied.
She extended her hand to him. “Doctor Rosanne Carter,” she offered. “Head of exo.”
Kelly nodded respectfully, taking her hand in a firm shake before motioning to David. “This is special envoy David Ferguson.” Carter shook David’s hand as well.
“How is…” David trailed off, unwilling to ascribe gender to the Cheron envoy. “…our visitor?”
“She appears to be fine,” Carter replied.
“So it’s true?” Kelly replied, incredulous. “She is human…”
Carter nodded. “I must admit, had it not been for the suits and security detail, I might have thought this was some kind of joke. But yes, all tests came back normal. Well, human, anyway.”
David gaped at her. “…so there’s no indication that there’s anything alien about her?”
Carter shook her head. “Nothing we can find, at any rate.”
David looked to Kelly, as they were forced to entertain the impossible.
“Do you think…” Kelly began, uncertain.
“That she’s actually human?” David finished for him. “Not for a second. But I’m having a hard time explaining it otherwise.”
Kelly stroked his chin. “So…” he began at last, “what do we do now?”
David had no idea how to respond. He’d known this would be the greatest challenge of his career, but decades of diplomatic experience had failed to prepare him for this. Years of planning, only to have an alien species seemingly drop a child in their lap.
“You take her home,” Carter chimed in.
For a moment, the two men merely gaped at her. “Excuse me?” Kelly replied at last.
Carter sighed wearily. “Gentlemen, I understand that this is a…bizarre…situation. Trust me, it’s the weirdest day I’ve ever had. But by all outward appearances, this ‘envoy’ is a kid. Just a kid. That’s it.”
“There has to be something else you can do,” Kelly pleaded. “More tests? I dunno. Something.”
“Oh sure,” Carter replied. “There might be other things we can do. CT scan, full encephalographic mapping. But that’s not happening today. We’d need time to prepare, and a full slate of specialists we simply don’t have on hand.” She lowered her tablet. “Until then, in the absence of any data to the contrary, we have to call a spade a spade. She is a child, and the fact is we can’t just keep her here.”
“She’s an alien!” Kelly retorted, incised.
“Not as far as we can tell,” Carter replied, flatly. “And until we know more, the law comes into play.”
“What are you saying?” Kelly replied.
“I’m saying,” Carter began, “That she needs to go somewhere else.”
Kelly sputtered. “What the hell are we supposed to do? Call CPS? Put her in foster care? For Christ’s sake, this is the official representative of another intelligent species! We can’t just-”
“Can I see her?” David cut in. Kelly stared at him.
“Of course,” Carter replied. “She’s perfectly fine, as far as I can tell. Never seen a kid so calm before. One of my more agreeable patients.”
Before David could respond, Kelly dragged him away by his elbow. Once they’d moved out of earshot, he leaned in, rasping. “Dave, what the fuck-”
David glared at him, and his expression softened. He knew that look. David Ferguson was a decisive man. Once he made a decision, he stuck to it.
“Are you actually considering taking her home with you?”
David shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? Put an alien in a foster home?”
Kelly fumed. “Dammit, Dave! She’s not a stray cat!”
“No,” David shot back. “She’s the official representative of the Cheron. And I’m the representative assigned to her during her stay on this planet.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“My job,” David countered. “I signed up for this knowing it could mean anything. None of us had any idea what to expect. I’ll admit this is…weirder…than any of us could have imagined. But I’m still a diplomat. And frankly, I’ve dealt with worse.”
“You’ve never dealt with kids,” Kelly retorted. “Mine were human, and that was hard enough.”
“Nothing worth doing is ever easy, Ryan.”
Kelly chuckled wearily. “We’ll see if you feel that way when she starts dating.”
For a hospital corridor, the Exo wing at NYU Langone was unnervingly empty. None of the usual bustle; no crowded nurses’ station, no gaggles of doctors. No friends and family anxiously pacing in the hallway, awaiting news good or bad. No patients, save one. For all of that, David was grateful. Too many painful memories. Even the sound of an EKG was enough to make his chest tighten. He hadn’t set foot in a hospital in years. The last time he had, the best part of him had never left.
The stillness made it eerie. He walked slowly, light on his feet, as though heavy footfalls might disturb the silence. A single doctor rushed past him at one point, pulling off a hazmat suit. Ahead, a single door was closed. Beyond lay the single room occupied by a patient in the wing.
He opened the door slowly, peering in. She was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, as though waiting for him. To his relief she was fully dressed; he’d feared she’d be adorned in a hospital gown, tubes sticking out of her arms. He wasn’t sure he could have taken that.
“Hello…” he began, softly.
She turned to look at him. “David. Is that correct?”
He nodded slowly. What should he say? He plastered a disarming smile on his face, and began as he would with a child. “Are you okay?”
She paused for a moment, as though assessing her body. After a brief glance at the bandage on her arm where blood had been drawn, she looked back at him. “I am not permanently damaged, as far as I am aware.”
David had no idea where to begin. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, before sitting on the hospital bed next to her. He knew enough about children to know how to put one at ease, yet the proximity to an alien being made him nervous. He looked down at her, speaking softly. “What do you know about human children?”
She paused for a moment, formulating her response. “I am aware that humans are not birthed fully developed,” she began at last. “Your young are reared for approximately eighteen of your years, sometimes longer.”
“That’s correct,” David replied. “Until our…young…are considered fully mature, they require adult supervision.”
She merely stared at him. “Explain,” she responded.
David furrowed his brow. “Well, until they are adults, children of our species are the responsibility of one or more adults. Those adults are responsible for their upbringing.”
She paused, repeating the last word slowly. “Up…bringing…”
David sighed wearily. “It means adults are responsible for protecting them, meeting their basic needs, and teaching them how to one day be adults themselves.”
Again she paused, considering this. “That seems inefficient.”
“Maybe so,” David replied, growing frustrated. “But it’s how we do things, and it’s mandated by law. All children require a responsible adult: a guardian.”
“I see,” she replied. “So, all human children are assigned a guardian?”
“Well…I mean, no…that is…they’re not assigned, per se…but…” David stammered in response. “Look, the point is, as far as we can tell, you’re human, like us. Obviously, we believe you are who you say you are. But in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, we have to treat you like you’re human.”
“A child,” she observed.
“That’s right,” David replied.
She appeared to consider this for a moment. “I do not have a guardian. What happens to children who do not have a guardian?”
David sighed heavily, looking down at her. “Nothing good. Nothing we’d want to see happen to you.”
She stared blankly for a moment, considering this. “Then I require a guardian.”
“In that, we are in agreement,” David replied. “Look, what I’m about to propose is…well, it’s unusual. But I’ve given it some thought. You see, my role in all of this is as an attaché. Are you familiar with that term?”
She paused for a moment before responding. “An ambassadorial aide assigned to a unique area of expertise.”
David nodded. “That’s right. I was assigned to follow your peoples’ envoy. To see to their needs, serve as a direct go-between during their stay on Earth. Whatever those needs may be, for as long as they are here.”
She paused for some time, as though carefully considering her options. Eventually, she turned to look up at him. “Do you have any experience in child upbringing?”
David shook his head, regretfully. “No, I do not.”
She cocked her head, quizzically. “You do not have any children of your own?”
“No,” David replied, looking down. “I…missed out on that one.”
“Then what are your qualifications for serving as guardian?”
David shrugged. “I guess I don’t have any. But I do have decades of diplomatic experience. As far as raising children…well, I guess I have about as much experience in raising kids as you have in being one.”
She looked away again. “That is a fair point,” she replied.
“So, what do you say?”
She hesitated a moment, clearly considering the situation. Eventually, she turned to look at him again.
“I accept you as my guardian,” she declared. “What happens now?”
David now paused for a moment. “Now…I guess we go home.”
The Envoy is available now on Amazon Kindle, Apple Books, Google Books, and Rakuten Kobo. Click here to learn more, and reserve your copy.
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