Trang

By Mary Sisson

"Trang is a clever return to the social sci-fi of yesteryear."—The New Podler Review of Books. Award-winning writer Mary Sisson brings you the tale of Philippe Trang, the first human diplomat assigned to a mysterious alien station. Haunted by a recent mission that went very wrong, Trang realizes that not everyone on Earth would like his mission to succeed—and the aliens have some nefarious agendas of their own. As he tries desperately to keep everyone from killing each other (not to mention him), strange forces threaten to destroy his very mind! If you like character-driven stories that feature a blend of drama, tragedy, comedy, and action—such as the works of Joss Whedon or Charles Stross’ Laundry Files novels—and you don't mind some really bad language, read Trang today! (107,900 words/370 pages long.)

About the Author:
Mary Sisson is an award-winning writer, editor, and journalist. She graduated magna cum laude with a degree in English and American Language and Literature from Harvard University, and she has a master’s degree in Journalism from New York University, where she received the Edwin Diamond Award, the department’s highest honor. She has contributed to award-winning books ranging in topic from terrorism to food to history to technology. None of this means she’s actually any more qualified to write about aliens and space Marines than the next person, but she carries on regardless. See what’s she’s up to by visiting marysisson.com!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Sisson
• Release date: Feb 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458050199

Mary Sisson

Mary Sisson is an award-winning writer, editor, and journalist. She graduated magna cum laude with a degree in English and American Language and Literature from Harvard University, and she has a master’s degree in Journalism from New York University, where she received the Edwin Diamond Award, the department’s highest honor. She has contributed to award-winning books ranging in topic from terrorism to food to history to technology. See what’s she’s up to by visiting marysisson.com!

Book preview

TRANG

by Mary Sisson

Published by Mary Sisson at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Mary Sisson

To Beth Trilling

Every writer should have a friend like you.

Chapter 1

August 31, 2113

It was the greatest event in the history of the space program—quite possibly in the history of Earth. It marked the dawn of the Golden Age of Space, a time when space captured the popular imagination like never before. It was a seminal moment, the kind of watershed event that changes everything afterward.

But to Wouter Hoopen, general manager of the Titan station, it was just another fuck-up. Another embarrassing, stupid little fuck-up by his station, which was embarrassing him enough as it was.

As Wouter would later note in his own, very private defense, the timing could not have been worse. He found out about it just as he got back from a weeklong trip to a Space Authority conference on Earth—a conference that was supposed to be a break, a rest from the claustrophobia of the station and the stress of seeing the same damned people every damned day.

And instead of a vacation, all he had gotten had been variations of the question, What, exactly—? What, exactly, was the Titan station for? What, exactly, could scientists do there that would ever justify its cost? What, exactly, was its purpose?

Why were people even asking these questions? For God’s sake, there used to be enthusiasm for space exploration, thanks to a charismatic, popular, and now, alas, quite deceased prime minister who spearheaded the construction of the Titan station some 20 years before. And now Wouter was left managing an aging station with a budget set by a gaggle of bean counters in Beijing who didn’t have to live on it and certainly weren’t going to die on it if they didn’t allot quite enough money for maintenance.

Even among the spacers—and this was where Wouter really felt the knife in his back—fervor for the Titan station had waned. His reception at the conference had been positively chilly. The planetary scientists were saying that actually being on Saturn’s moon was less helpful than one might imagine. Astronomers interested in deep space saw no advantage to the station whatsoever. Nothing living had been found, so the life-science types weren’t even at the conference, having long ago decided that space travel just sucked up their funding.

The only solid support came from the Malthusians and other catastrophiles, who continued to insist that the dwindling growth of Earth’s population, along with the ever-decreasing levels of pollution emitted by increasingly environmentally friendly industrial technologies, would someday, somehow render the planet uninhabitable. Needless to say, their opinion was hardly mainstream. And when your most ardent backers were wearing Accept Suicide buttons, you had a problem.

Wouter had cashed in every favor and used every connection he had to become manager of Titan Station specifically because he had wanted to stand out from the crowd. Being on Titan, having actually been in space, seemed like the perfect antidote to what he had to admit was an all-too-mediocre resumé as a Space Authority middle manager. But if Titan was mothballed, then what would he do? Given how far the station’s star had fallen, he’d likely wind up back on a cubicle farm, laboring in obscurity until his necessarily modest retirement.

Worse yet, if there was some kind of disaster—no, he couldn’t even think about that. Even if he survived, he would be a pariah, a deathwatch. There would be investigations, and Wouter was certain that those unimaginative bean counters in Beijing would prove surprisingly creative when it came to shifting blame to the station’s general manager.

The best-case scenario was this: Things would eke along, with Wouter the head of this marginally useful, greatly resented, shabby little station.

Dear God. There was no escaping it. He would never be promoted again.

Wouter had reached this conclusion during his trip back to Titan station, so he was in a very black mood indeed when he arrived. The first thing he was told when he stepped off the ship was that someone had lost a research satellite. At that point he was just about ready to take a calming stroll outside without his suit, or—and this was always the advantage of being general manager—to make someone else take one.

Instead, he chewed out everyone on the station and demanded a frantic investigation into the satellite’s whereabouts.

Not that it helped. The satellite, which was doing radio mapping—a project one astronomer at the conference called typical of the make-work the Space Authority cooks up in its pathetic efforts to justify the existence of that boondoggle—had vanished. There was no trace of wreckage. There was nothing odd about the satellite’s transmissions or trajectory before it disappeared. It was just gone.

Wouter’s resulting tantrum was sufficiently dramatic that his staff was still diligently looking for the satellite five days later. It was a lucky thing that they were, because when the satellite reappeared in exactly the same place where they lost it, its trajectory was totally off. Given the busyness of space around Saturn, it probably would have smashed into something if they hadn’t found it as quickly as they had. Wouter’s people tried to fix the satellite’s trajectory remotely, but it had apparently been damaged and was transmitting something that made the computer crash, so they cut off communications and sent out a retriever.

Using a retriever satellite was always tricky—you had to match trajectories and deploy the grapplers without damaging the target too much, all via remote control—but Wouter’s techs proved up to the job and brought in the research satellite intact.

And after that great save, did Wouter get one iota of appreciation from the Space Authority? Of course not. Instead, he was ordered to ship that satellite right back to Beijing, where people who were so very much smarter than he was could figure out what went wrong.

The station still had its records, though, so Wouter sent the incident data to everyone’s file, just to see if his people couldn’t show up those smug SA bastards a little.

They didn’t disappoint. The next day, when Wouter entered the grubby cafeteria, he saw two of his techs laughing over some of the data.

What’s so funny? Wouter asked, sitting gingerly in one of the chairs. It had been fashionable, and perhaps even comfortable, when it had been installed 20 years before.

Oh, see, it’s like a joke, said the first tech, Manuel.

It’s a computer joke—a computer-language joke, said Edmary, the other. See this?

He pointed at some data on his scroll.

Wouter recognized it. That’s what the satellite was broadcasting when it reappeared, he said.

Yeah, someone was goofing, said Edmary.

It explains why the computer went haywire, said Manuel.

I think it does, Edmary agreed.

What is it? asked Wouter, feeling slightly excluded, which made him feel slightly annoyed.

Oh, well—I mean, don’t get mad, we didn’t put it in here, said Manuel. But sometimes programmers will write to each other in computer language. It’s kind of like a secret code or something.

Yeah, like if I need to borrow money, I might send Manuel here a little note that says, ‘This unit has insufficient power and requires a temporary influx of power from another unit with a surplus,’ said Edmary.

Manuel made a quick flip of his palm, clearly rejecting the request. Edmary put his hand to his heart in mock-hurt, and then continued.

You’d write it in code, you know, just like a computer would send out a request on the network. It’s a little joke. But you have to be careful where you send that kind of stuff, because if it goes to the computer and not to Manuel, the computer might actually try to follow the orders.

He pointed at the scroll again. See, this message is in the same language the satellite uses to communicate with the station computer, which is why it caused problems. Somehow it wound up where it didn’t belong.

What does it say? Wouter asked.

This is like what you might write somebody new—like a girl or something—somebody who you wanted to meet. Like, this line is, ‘This unit requires information from other units.’ And that line is, like, an approval code—that means, you know, that the unit is cleared.

Friendly, basically, said Manuel. Trustworthy.

Right, it’s like, ‘Tell me about yourself, I’m a nice guy,’ Edmary continued. And then, this is a request for the other unit to transmit the contents of its databases, and that’s a priority code.

Manuel smiled. Someone wanted to meet someone really badly.

Wouter frowned deeply. If Beijing found out about this, would they figure out a way to blame him somehow?

We are totally not the ones who did this, said Edmary to Wouter.

Maybe a little green man is looking for love, said Manuel, with a laugh.

Manuel’s joke stuck in Wouter’s mind as he lay in his lumpy bed later that evening. It was crazy, of course, but what if a—?

No—he couldn’t even think it without hearing, Typical of the make-work the Space Authority cooks up in its pathetic efforts to justify the existence of that boondoggle.

But if he found life, intelligent life, wouldn’t that actually justify the existence of his station? In moments of budgetary desperation Wouter had toyed with the idea of passing off some of the Titan’s more bizarre crystalline structures as a form of life. Imagine if he found the real thing?

Think of what it would mean for Earth.

Think of what it would mean for Titan station.

Think of what it would mean for his career!

Think of the funding!

The key, Wouter decided, would be to figure out a way to investigate without anyone knowing what he was doing.

He could look at where that satellite had vanished. That would look good to any outsider—maybe there was some odd feature at that point in space that would be of scientific interest. He could send another satellite there—one of the ones that took video images of the rings, maybe. God knows, no one in the SA would care if one of the viewfinder satellites went offline for an hour or twelve: The general public thought the images they sent back were pretty, but scientifically, they weren’t worth much.

So the next shift, he asked his staff to send one of the viewfinders to the coordinates where the radio telescope had vanished and reappeared.

They did.

And it disappeared.

Wouter sent his report to Beijing with mixed emotions—they could roast him for losing a second satellite, but on the other hand, it was intriguing, wasn’t it? He had his staff look through old satellite trajectories, and other satellites had passed through those coordinates as recently as four months ago without any incident. None of the telescopes picked up anything strange there, and his staff reviewed four months of observational data without finding anything of note. He sent the results of their research on to Beijing, hoping that it would help guide their bean-counting minds toward the intriguing and away from the wasteful school of thought.

But the viewfinder got back to Wouter before Beijing did, reappearing 46 hours after it vanished. Again, its trajectory had obviously been interrupted. The staff sent a retriever after it, not risking communication this time. The retrieval into the satellite bay went off without a hitch, as did the automated quarantined download of the viewfinder’s data. Wouter and several of his staffers gathered around the one working screen in his office to see what the satellite had seen.

The image was clear, but at the moment of disappearance there was what looked like a jump in the star field. A circle of light appeared and vanished at the periphery of the image, which became distorted for a moment as the viewfinder compensated for a sudden change in light levels.

Then, a small, white, oval object appeared. It sped up to the viewfinder quickly, making Wouter wonder if it was an asteroid shooting past.

But then it slowed. The object hovered in the image, only a few meters away from the satellite.

"What’s that?" asked a staffer.

Act skeptical, thought Wouter, suppressing a smile. Let’s not get excited—it could be a hoax, he said.

It wasn’t a hoax, he knew it, and he clasped his hands in his lap to conceal his excitement. I’ll be able to write my own ticket! he thought.

The oval paced the viewfinder for a bit, matching its trajectory. There were no markings on its surface, and no indication of any sort of door or window. There was, however, a little dimple in the center of the oval.

After a few moments, a tail snaked out of it, seeming to feel its way through space toward the viewfinder.

Suddenly the station’s breach alarm went off, making one of his staffers scream and nearly scaring Wouter out of his seat.

He would later think it odd that he didn’t have the same initial reaction that everyone on Earth seemed to have—he didn’t wrongly assume his station was under alien attack. Instead, he foolishly wondered for a moment if the alarm was coming from the soundless video. Then, as he scrambled to seal his environmental suit, the chilling thought occurred to him: I’m too late. My station’s fallen apart.

Once everyone was sealed up, he found the frantic staffer who had set off the alarm. There had been no breach, thank God, but the staffer had seen something on the viewfinder satellite, something that had left him gibbering.

Wouter looked through the window at the satellite bay, which had sealed and was now pumping out the toxic Titan atmosphere.

He saw it then, sitting on the outside of the satellite, nestled next to the camera aperture.

Later investigation would reveal that that same camera had prevented Wouter’s techs from spotting it during the retrieval. They had instructed the retriever to approach the viewfinder from behind, so as not to damage the camera, and from that angle the camera itself had blocked their view of the thing.

That thing was a large cluster of round purple lumps, a bit like the inside of a pomegranate or a bizarre and fatal tumor.

Wouter ordered the area sealed off completely, sent a missive to Beijing, and ordered a decontamination of the rest of the station before allowing his staff to unseal their suits.

Then he went back to his office and watched the video. He saw in fast-forward what the rest of Earth would watch in detail, over and over and over again, in the months and years to come. He saw the other ovals and their tails as they looped around the satellite and pulled it through space. He saw the appearance on the edge of the screen of a structure that grew larger and larger until it swallowed up the view. He saw the strange things—creatures? robots?—that examined and worked on the satellite in an open bay on the structure’s side. He saw the left hand of the image replaced by a white field, while the right half showed the ovals reattaching to the satellite and hauling it away. He saw the ring of light marking the spot where the ovals detached and let the satellite float away, and then the sudden appearance of Saturn, with its familiar rings and moons.

And he saw the equally dramatic change in the white side of the screen as the viewfinder approached the ring. There, in the middle of an unchanging field of white, was a round, growing spot of black.

A hole.

Chapter 2

May 27, 2118

Philippe Trang stood outside the door, frozen.

A sound had caught his attention, riveting him to the floor.

Bzz-bzz. Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz. Bzzz-bzz-mbzz.

It was coming from behind the door.

It’s not flies, Philippe thought to himself. It can’t possibly be flies.

He could feel the panic rising all the same. He took a moment to control himself, to suppress all emotion, and then he pushed the button.

The door in front of him opened, and Philippe saw the gently lined face of the evening’s host, Chen Ming, head of the DiploCorps’ Beijing office.

Ming smiled with obvious warmth, and Philippe instinctively smiled back with what he hoped appeared to be equal warmth.

They greeted each other and shook hands; then Ming held onto Philippe’s hand as he escorted him into the apartment. The drone of conversation became punctuated by pleased exclamations. Everyone soon stopped talking, turning their well-coiffed heads to look at Philippe.

The man of the hour! announced Ming.

Philippe smiled and bowed slightly, realizing that he was going to be put on display immediately. Good thing I don’t need to go to the bathroom, he thought.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to present to you Philippe Trang, Ming continued. His voice was not loud—he seemed far too elegant a man to raise it—but it carried throughout the spacious room.

As you may have heard, Ming said knowingly, eliciting smiles from the audience, "tomorrow Philippe will leave Earth and travel to the Titan station. From there, he will go through the portal and take up residence on the alien station.

"Philippe will lead the very first human diplomatic mission to an alien culture—or, more accurately, cultures, since there are fully seven alien species living on that station. Philippe will be the DiploCorps’ first representative ever—humanity’s first representative ever—to the aliens. What he is doing is unbelievably important. Without exaggeration, it is the most historic mission the DiploCorps has ever undertaken."

Philippe gamely continued smiling. He hadn’t talked things over with Ming beforehand, so he wasn’t sure if he was going to be expected to say a few words.

It is also something that has never been done before, and as a result, it has generated a great deal of concern, Ming continued. His tone grew greatly concerned as well, and Philippe realized that Ming had, essentially, prepared a speech.

He stopped trying to organize his thoughts: He wouldn’t have to say a thing. Today, he was nothing more than a prop.

"Some of that concern is legitimate, and some, in my opinion, is the result of an unfortunate xenophobia. It is true, as some critics never tire of pointing out, that we’ve been exchanging messages with the aliens for five years, but there is so much that we don’t know—that we can’t know—just from exchanging video. We need somebody there—someone who can actually interact with the aliens, who can live among them and forge the kind of connections that could never be made from the safety of Beijing or Ottawa.

"I’m not claiming we know exactly what will happen—far from it. But while the road ahead is unmapped and full of pitfalls, given Philippe Trang’s remarkable record in the DiploCorps, I am confident that he will be able to navigate it.

Congratulations, Philippe, and thank you, said Ming, shaking Philippe’s hand again. All of Earth is relying on you.

Someone started applauding, and soon everyone joined in.

Philippe smiled and waved to the crowd, feeling vaguely sick.

It was his going-away party. Perhaps fittingly, it was a generic DiploCorps affair, held far away from any place that had any personal meaning for Philippe, and populated mainly by people he did not know. It was held in an apartment reliably suited to the typical needs of an upper-level DiploCorps officer, who would be required to throw several large parties a month: The living/dining/cocktail-party room was spacious but also featured several semi-private nooks, the better to foster those all-important one-on-one interactions.

The décor was lush without being vulgar—the deep red, almost burgundy walls with tan paper hangings rose up from an impressively immaculate white carpet. The wall hangings reflected what Philippe assumed was Ming’s own preference for traditional Chinese calligraphy, but even they obeyed the DiploCorps aesthetic—moderate in size and muted in color, they had been hung perfectly at a discreet distance from each other.

This was a room that, like its owner, whispered and did not shout. The same was true of the soft music in the background and, no doubt, of the expertly blended drinks available. Although Philippe had never met most of the people there, they, too, looked familiar—well-groomed, well-dressed, clearly well-off, yet not garish or ostentatious. Tasteful, tailored, and smooth.

Philippe took a deep breath. He knew this world well; he’d worked in it for years.

This shouldn’t be so tough, he told himself.

They were all there to meet him, of course. Well, not really to meet him—not in any genuine getting-to-know-you kind of way. He was a prop, and they were there to shake his hand and look at his face before he left Earth. Then they would be able to tell their friends, I met Philippe Trang once, the night before he left Earth. I shook his hand and looked him right in the eye. Isn’t it a pity?

Philippe shook his head to stop that train of thought—it would affect his smile, and he needed to smile convincingly now because the flurry of introductions was beginning. The guests were actually lining up, like they would at a wedding or a funeral, to receive the handshake that was due them.

It wasn’t hard. As Philippe expected, no one really wanted to talk to him. Some of them asked him how he was, but luckily they didn’t want a real answer.

Like any reasonably competent diplomat, Philippe was good with names. Still, under the circumstances, it did seem a little pointless to have to learn dozens of new ones. Here, for example, was the last person in the line of new acquaintances, the assistant undersecretary of technology trade standards for the Hong Kong office of the Commerce Division. Philippe couldn’t imagine why he would need to know her, even if she had, as he remarked, certainly traveled a long way.

"Well, I haven’t come as far as you have!" burbled the assistant undersecretary.

Her name was Ling Wei. She was plump and short, with a blunt bob that unfortunately emphasized the roundness of her features.

All the way from Canada! she exclaimed. Is this your first time in Beijing? Have you been able to see much of the city?

Philippe realized that, oddly enough, Wei actually seemed to want to make conversation.

And why not? he wondered. There was no one in line behind her, pushing her along. She was by herself, but she seemed genuinely friendly and sociable—with none of the scary stalker vibe he had occasionally gotten from people who recognized him on the street.

Plus, this was an opportunity to ease the topic of conversation away from himself. He really, really did not want to spend an entire evening dwelling on his own state.

Oh, yes, he replied. I saw the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, and the Temple of Heaven—and of course the Great Wall. It’s all been fantastic.

Wei tilted her head. What do you think of Beijing itself? As a city?

Philippe thought for a moment. I guess the main surprise for me has been how big the Space Authority is here—I mean, I knew the headquarters are here, but. . . .

You can’t go two blocks without seeing the logo, agreed Wei.

Philippe nodded. I mean, the DiploCorps are headquartered in Ottawa, but that just means the offices are there. You don’t see people in the street wearing DiploCorps jackets and shirts—if those things even exist.

Wei nodded. "Beijing is crazy about the Space Authority, especially these days. We’re always joking about that in Hong Kong—they should just change the city’s name to SA and be done with it."

"That’s a good idea. You could pronounce it Sa, said Philippe. You know, ‘This weekend I’m going to Sa to, um—’"

‘To watch the launch!’ Wei finished.

They laughed. The Space Authority seemed to launch something every few hours—the noise was surprisingly penetrating despite the required muffling. Even when Philippe had gone out of town to see the Great Wall, he had been distracted by a launch—not the noise that time, it couldn’t travel that far, but the blazing light trail in the sky that followed it, a reminder hanging in the heavens that his time on Earth was limited.

A waiter passed them with a tray full of some kind of savory pastry, and Wei almost leapt to stop him.

You have to try one of these, she said, gesturing at the pastries.

Philippe obeyed. The pastry turned out to be an excellent crab puff, with just the right mixture of crab, sauce, and pastry. Wei, Philippe quickly determined, was a fellow foodie, and she had taken a careful and thorough inventory of the appetizers available.

After that crab puff, he was more than willing to mine her knowledge of the other tasty bites available, and her judgment did not disappoint. For the first time, his smile felt natural, and he began to feel like this evening might not turn out to be an excruciating slog after all.

You know, I guess I’m surprised that you’ve never been to Beijing before, given how much you must travel, said Wei, after steering them to some delicious chicken feet.

I’ve actually never been assigned to East Asia, said Philippe. I’ve spent most of my time in much more troubled places—non-Union countries and the like.

Well, um, excuse me? said a voice behind Philippe.

He turned, smiling.

His smile promptly felt strained.

The woman standing there obviously was not a diplomat, or even an assistant undersecretary. Everything about her was a little too. She was a little too young and a little too thin. Her breasts were a little too large for her body, and her lips were a little too big for her face. She wore a little too much makeup, and her short dress was both a little too short and a little too tight. Her hair was a little too shiny, and her eyes were open a little too wide.

This woman was either a politician or, judging from her skirt length, a spouse. Either was virtually guaranteed to be a bother.

Um, she began. Um, I couldn’t help but hear you mention the non-Union countries, and, um, I’m just wondering, what do they think about what you’re doing? Do they think it’s, um, dangerous?

Of course they think it’s dangerous, thought Philippe. It is dangerous.

Well, he said, the non-Union countries have largely decided to let the Union take the lead in Earth’s dealings with the aliens. The Union is the closest thing we have to an Earth government, after all.

But, um, before we were just, um, talking to them, said the woman. And now, um, we’re sending somebody through the Titan portal to, um, actually see them.

"We’ve been talking to them for five years, said Philippe. Presumably if they wanted to attack, they would have done so by now. The aliens have never even come through the portal, and they say they never will without a formal invitation. They’ve been consistently friendly and, as far as we can determine, truthful in their communications. I think that it’s natural at this point that we would explore the possibility of deepening our relationship with them."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. Philippe couldn’t quite decide if her expression indicated actual fear or was merely the vestige of some cosmetic procedure. He really wasn’t in the mood to spend time justifying his mission at this late date to someone who clearly hadn’t bothered to educate herself on the subject, but he decided that a little additional reassurance couldn’t hurt.

"I mean, it’s not like there’s perfect unity among the Union countries, either. Of course, there’s a risk to going through the portal. But there’s also a risk to staying on opposite sides of the portal forever—if we don’t engage the aliens, if we don’t build a positive relationship with them now, then maybe there will be negative consequences down the line from that decision. I can speak only for myself, but I’m not afraid to do this."

He smiled at her, in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. But he was thinking, Whatever happens, I’ve seen worse right here on Earth.

Well, I just don’t think that it’s fair, she replied. I mean, um, the Union is making these decisions that affect everybody, and, um, what are the non-Union countries supposed to do?

Philippe looked about for Wei, if only as a reminder of better days, but the assistant undersecretary had cleared off, leaving him to his troubles.

"Who cares about the non-Union countries? exclaimed a red-faced man who suddenly appeared by the wide-eyed woman’s side. They don’t have the money, and they don’t have the clout—am I right, Trang?"

Philippe’s smile thinned. Actually, the non-Union countries do have a say, through the United Nations, and two years ago they passed a resolution of support—

What’s the United Nations? the woman asked the man, putting her arm around his thick waist. He looked like he was about 30 years older than she was—but Philippe was willing to bet that he had never been as good-looking.

The man waved his hand in the air, dismissively. A useless relic. He thrust the hand out to Philippe. Tau Li. Beijing office. DiploCorps.

Of course, thought Philippe as they shook hands, the suit. Li was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, a model of understated elegance. It seemed somehow not to fit.

Philippe Trang. Nice to meet you. Philippe said.

He waited for a moment, but Li didn’t offer to introduce his—wife? girlfriend? Hopefully not his daughter, considering where his hand was now. Whoever she was, she didn’t seem willing to introduce herself.

So, you’re the wonder kid who gets to go meet the aliens tomorrow, Li said. He waved his free hand in the air as he talked. "Through the portal, and to the alien station."

In that instant, Philippe realized two things about Li: The man was profoundly drunk, and he was profoundly jealous. At this very moment, Li was wondering why, with his big mouth and his trophy girlfriend and his willingness to get sloshed at official functions, he wasn’t getting the kind of assignments that put him on the global news feed as the public face of the DiploCorps.

Schadenfreude wasn’t a noble emotion, Philippe knew. But it could be a useful one. He used that feeling of superiority to help him glide fully into the diplomatic frame of mind—confident, serene, benevolent.

I’m very excited, he said blandly, especially about meeting the Communicator.

Li opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. Philippe realized why when he heard Ming say, I would be, too. Philippe, I’d like you to meet someone.

Even Li has the sense not to mouth off in front of his boss, Philippe thought.

He turned to Ming, and all thoughts of Li vanished from his mind. Standing by Ming was Shridar Bhattacharjee.

Shridar Bhattacharjee?

Philippe did a double take, but there was no mistaking that friendly, bearded face, that long, slightly crooked nose, those large, chestnut-brown eyes. Shridar Bhattacharjee! Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize!

This is Shridar Bhattacharjee, said Ming, as though Philippe needed to be told.

It’s an honor to meet you, sir, Philippe managed to say, eagerly shaking the older man’s hand. The hand felt somewhat thin, and Philippe noticed that Shridar did seem somewhat frail—he had retired from the DiploCorps at least a decade before, and of course his remarkable work in Korea had taken place quite some time before that.

Shridar’s eyes were still lively, though. "It’s an honor to meet you," he said, generously.

Philippe suddenly felt warm.

Now, don’t you think, brayed Li in Shridar’s general direction, "that someone like you should be the first diplomatic contact with the aliens?"

Shridar laughed and waved his hands. Oh, no. I’m far too old. This is a job for a younger man.

But really, Li klaxoned.

The Space Authority was quite specific in their physical requirements, said Ming, cutting Li off without the least visible trace of irritation. And Philippe’s not exactly a child—how old are you?

Thirty-six, said Philippe.

And you’ve got a lot of experience in, shall we say, non-conventional situations, Ming replied with a smile.

Philippe smiled back. Well—don’t tell anyone I said this—but I think the DiploCorps’ attitude is, if somebody has to be eaten by a space monster, it should be somebody junior.

Li exploded with laughter. His companion waited a moment, and then joined in with a nervous giggle.

Ming and Shridar didn’t laugh, however. Instead, the two older gentlemen exchanged a look of concern.

About that: What do you think of your security arrangements? Shridar asked. Are you satisfied with your level of personal protection?

Philippe paused for a moment. It seemed like a bizarre and tragic waste of possibly his only chance ever to speak with Shridar Bhattacharjee to be talking about the minutiae of his own life. Still, one had to be polite.

I don’t— Philippe almost said care, but that sounded a little too blunt, or perhaps a little too honest. I don’t worry about that—like Ming said, I’ve been in any number of dangerous missions, and I’ve always felt like the Union Police had those sorts of matters well in hand.

But this isn’t like any other mission, said Ming.

Well, of course, Philippe agreed. But I guess I feel like people who know a lot more about security than I do are taking care of that end of things. There’s not much I can do except leave them to do their jobs.

Shridar and Ming exchanged another look.

Ordinarily, I would agree, said Shridar. When the Union is, ah—

Unambivalent, chimed in Ming.

Unambivalent, Shridar nodded. When the mission is clear, then, of course, you would leave security to the Union Police. They’re the experts. But when things are like they are now—the mission is utterly open, there is no way to define success—then sometimes you don’t really get the support you need.

You may be pulling in one direction, said Ming. And there are factions in the Union that may be pulling in another. There is still, as I mentioned, a great deal of xenophobia, even among the upper echelons of the Union. It can complicate things.

Philippe stared at the two older men, the noise of the party washing over him. What was there for him to say?

It’s a bit like what happened to you with General Jesus in Guantánamo, said Shridar. "When the larger direction of a mission is unclear, the

Reviews for Trang

[demonite93 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first book of a series. It revolves around Earth finding aliens that are friendly and wanting to to engage in learning about each other. There are a few different types of aliens and the author does a really good job differentiating each type from the others. The Earth diplomat is put in a unique position and the story unfolds really well. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and was slightly disappointed when it was over. The author does a really fantastic job of showing the different perspectives of situations for each of the aliens, the Earth diplomat, and the Diplomats guards.

[jjmcgaffey · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fascinating. It's a very interesting first contact situation - with not just one race of aliens, but several. The thing I liked best about it (being a diplomat's daughter) is that the humans are a diplomat (the protagonist and title character, Philippe Trang) and a group of soldiers - and Trang is neither a helpless, bureaucratic-minded wimp hiding behind the soldiers nor a big, tough, clever guy out-soldiering the soldiers. He has his job and does it, and (after some personality and culture clashes) lets the soldiers do theirs. It's a big group - 14 soldiers - and we only get to know four or five of them in detail and the rest as sketches and personality quirks; however, all the characters are presented solidly and remain in character for what we know of them. Including the ones who reveal unexpected depths (or sometimes shallows...). The aliens are immensely varied - the different races are physically very different, and over the course of the book we learn that their cultural views are even more different. But they are also individuals; there are personality conflicts and cultural conflicts within individual alien races as well (Max, Moritz, and the trader, for example (yeah, well, their names are unpronounceable and untranslatable - so they let the humans label them...)). No great mass of interchangeable aliens here - the choices of individuals, of several races including human, make major changes in the flow of events. It's really well-done - the more I think about it, the more I like it - as well as an exciting story. I did have major problems with how Trang handled his problems in the middle - despite the many mentions of Guantanamo, I didn't see why he was so determinedly ignoring the contact. It became clearer later, just before he manage to accept reality. More than a little annoying though - I stalled reading for quite a while, but I did still want to see what happened. And I was rewarded - it wasn't the obvious answer, through several times when I "knew" what the answer was. Good story, and I plan to read the rest of the series as well.

[fromkin_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

We all know what aliens look like - cute little fellas like E.T. or powerful hunters like "Predator." Mary Sisson sets up a new world, populated by a wide variety of alien species that don't look, think, speak, or act like TV or movie aliens. And, that's the best part of "Trang." Sisson creates a universe of largely polite alien interaction on a space station created by the Hosts, as part of their religious heritage of protecting a space portal recently discovered by Earth. The DiploCorps, based in 2118 Beijing, sends Canadian diplomat Philippe Trang to establish contact with the alien races - the first human to visit the station. He is accompanied by a protective unit of Special Forces, hard-core, foul-mouthed soldiers led by Mission Commander Shanti, a cloned Amazon. Trang begins a "standard" diplomatic mission, attempting to learn about the various alien races, eventually becoming embroiled in the usual areas of international (or interspecies) dispute - power, primacy, trade, space, history, the future, and religion. While Trang struggles to understand the alien races, he also struggles to deal with his Special Forces minders, particularly Shanti, who proves to be more than she seems. She and Trang become entangled in Host prophecy as they try to save the Host world from an ambitious competing race."Trang" was a fun read, nothing deep, probably offensive to those put off by abundant obscene language on the part of the Special Forces troops. Trang isn't a terribly interesting character, but the alien life forces are a fascinating group, from the eager-to-please, spiritual hosts to the hovering, silent White Spiders. A good airplane book.

[bluelotus28 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I have mixed feelings about this book. I enjoyed reading it, and I feel that Ms. Sisson did well at crafting believable characters and novel and interesting aliens. Yet I had no love or attachment to Trang, the title character himself. The story itself moved rather slowly up until the very end, where the action seemed to happen in the last chapter of the book. I am not sure if this would have been better off as a novella, or developed further and fleshed out as a full novel. I enjoyed some of the "side" characters more than the lead character himself (like Shanti, the CO of the Special Forces detail that accompany him, or "Creepy" the alien Messiah).I do recommend this book if you are looking for a light read with interesting characters (and some rather foul language too, so be aware!) to pass the time. I also plan on reading the next book in the series, if only to see where the story goes.

[aquinaught · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Disclaimer: I received this ebook via the LibraryThing Member Giveaway direct from the author. I'd like to thank Ms. Sisson for going above and beyond to ensure that my copy was not trapped in an erroneous email spam filter. I'd also like to apologize to her for taking so long in writing this review.First contact with an alien civilization has been established. As our race communicates with and investigates those behind the contact, we learn there are multiple races living in relative harmony aboard a community station. The station has strict rules, of course, and humans are the latest race to be invited so we're to be on our best behavior. Set in the not-too-distant future, we can imagine the large-scale human traits we encounter today hold true here: xenophobia, paranoia, and greed. Rather than treating this first physical contact as a momentous occasion akin to "one giant leap for mankind," Earth's leading government seems bent on seeing this operation fail. They send a good--but not the best--diplomat they have. He's protected by an elite squad of marines who all seem to have discipline issues. Philippe Trang, the diplomat, is bombarded by petty emails unfiltered by any sort of assistant, who I would expect to accompany mankind's first representative to the stars. We're meant to believe that Mr. Trang is quite competent at his job but he has neither the accoutrements nor the experience to back that assumption. He has one solid, impactful line item in his resume but his behavior throughout the book really didn't jump out at me as being clever enough to warrant what I would see as an enviable position in history.The pacing started out a little slow but I think that works in the story's favor. The reader sees through Trang's eyes as he's learning the methods and intricacies of each of the races present. He's taking everything in and cataloging it for future use. He's not taking chances. He's making friends and learning about them. It's exactly what I'd expect a diplomat's default behavior would be. Unfortunately, the pacing didn't increase until the very end which featured a deus-ex-machina and a twist that smacked of "bet you didn't see this coming!" which relied on some convoluted (but consistent, at least) metaphysical behavior.While I thought the choice of a diplomat protagonist was an interesting take on the genre, neither he nor the story resonated with me. I am very much a resonance reader; if I latch onto something, be it an idea or character, I'm hooked until the wee hours. Unfortunately, I was searching too long for something to really hook me here and it affected my enjoyment of the work.

[honoliipali · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I found this story of the first human interaction with alien species to be interesting. I am normally not a sci-fi reader but won this book from LibraryThing. This story was well crafted and written. The different species types and their interactions was interesting and I found myself anxious to read more to see what happens next.I especially enjoyed the characters and their development. The author does a good job quickly establishing the many characters in a way that I was able to grasp each as individuals yet manage to keep them separate and independent.This is a good read and should be read by all scifi buffs.

[terriko_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is a neat take on a first contact scenario for Earth, and the main body of the story follows the young diplomat called upon to meet the aliens while dodging politics, bureaucracy, misunderstandings, mistranslations, and a rowdy and crude security force. I've read a lot of such stories, but I found the characters of Trang especially believable even when incredibly unbelievable things were going on. And though I can't put my finger quite on why, this book felt surprisingly unique within the genre. I put it down a few times during the first few chapters, but the story picks up considerably once the main characters start to appear, and even though it wrapped up nicely I'm finding myself eagerly anticipating what might come next in the series.[Note: I received a free copy of this for review, but I'm sure I'll be buying the next book!]

[falcon124_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fascinating approach to the "first contact" scenario with a collection of aliens, bureaucracy, translation errors, scared governments, military muscle, psychic experiences and one poor diplomat stuck in the middle trying to figure it out. The story was well paced and revealed developments at a rate that kept me interested without bombarding me in the process.Worth reading & I'm looking forward to checking out the sequel.

[rottie_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed Trang by Mary Sisson. I was having trouble putting it down near the end wondering where it was going to go. I see that the way it ended that there will probably be a second book. I would read this 2nd book since I found the story interesting in how it was told. I would recommend this book to others to read as well.

[roadway2000_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Good sci-fi book with aliens and diplomat and his security force. There is quite a bit of pretty rough language in this book, so keep away from younger people. Other than that quiet a interesting story which will keep you entertained.

[zungr-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mary Sisson's Trang reads like a mini space opera, covering the first posting of a human diplomat to an alien space station. The first chapter of the book lays down a situation that engaged my interest and had me wanting to find out what happens next, and this forward momentum is carried throughout the rest of the book.*** SOME SPOILERS AHEAD ***While the diplomat Trang and his Special Forces security chief Shanti are well developed as was their evolving relationship to each other, there were some characters who probably should have contributed more to the storyline with a bit more page time. The whole of Chapter One is taken up by Wouter Hoopen, but he is mentioned only fleetingly in the rest of the book. An astrophysicist whom Trang meets early in the book is likely largely absent after her chapter is over. On the other hand, the aliens depicted by Sisson are well constructed, feeling neither too conveniently human-like, nor too alien as for them to appear artificially constructed by a too eager hand.Trang's mission is presented as a series of engagements with his own mission personnel, as well as encounters with the various aliens on the alien space station, with each race of aliens having their own agenda. His later emerging psychological problems again drew me in wanting to know what exactly was happening to the protagonist of the book. Overall, despite some minor quibbles I have with the book, it was a pleasant read that had me tearing through the pages wanting to know what would happen next.

[robin.linehan · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I usually only read true stories, but I have to say, I really enjoyed Trang. It was my first sci-fi and I couldn't put it down, the language at times was a little foul but I would definitely recommend this book. I look forward to reading the rest of the Trang series.

[simone12_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I started reading this book because I was looking forward to escape into a story and be absorbed into a different world. Although the book didn't turn out to be so compelling that I could nicely coccoon on my sofa it still offered a good reading experience. The story takes place on a spacestation filled with strange aliens, which provides the writer with a host of entertaining meetings and situations. In meeting different alienraces there is also time for contemplations regarding the human race and the way we threat our planet and our own people. Although the story sometimes seems tediously long and all the swearing doesn't really help the story along, I still found myself taken by the story and reading along to find out how things would devellop. The climax came suddenly and the ending felt abrupt but I will surely read the other books in the Trang series to find out how the Hosts will run the station now that their Messiah has returned and to learn what the secret of the mysterious White Spiders is!

[magelet87 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

When alien life is discovered, Earth sends Philippe Trang as a diplomat. Soon, though, he discovers secrets that put him, the aliens, and Earth in danger. This was a great read. I would recommend this to anyone who loves mystery, sci-fi, and some foul language.

[jessicasim · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I started reading this book because I was looking forward to escape into a story and be absorbed into a different world. Although the book didn't turn out to be so compelling that I could nicely coccoon on my sofa it still offered a good reading experience. The story takes place on a spacestation filled with strange aliens, which provides the writer with a host of entertaining meetings and situations. In meeting different alienraces there is also time for contemplations regarding the human race and the way we threat our planet and our own people. Although the story sometimes seems tediously long and all the swearing doesn't really help the story along, I still found myself taken by the story and reading along to find out how things would devellop. The climax came suddenly and the ending felt abrupt but I will surely read the other books in the Trang series to find out how the Hosts will run the station now that their Messiah has returned and to learn what the secret of the mysterious White Spiders is!