His presentation complete, Montee risks a look up from the lectern, letting his gaze drift to the far side of cavernous Honor’s Room. There the commissioners, a distinguished group comprised of the world’s most acclaimed scientists and political leaders, sit quietly behind a massive stone table that stretches across the rear podium. The air hangs heavy as he waits, his legs seemingly ready to give. Finally, after a moment too long, the Chair takes a deep sigh and rises.
“It would seem that the lengthy time you’ve invested in your research, intimately intermingling with these creatures, no less”—he pauses, thumbing through the archaic stack of papers and images—“has concluded with a rather extensive, and I must say, impressive report. Correct me if I am wrong, but my readings do not provide a favorable impression of this species. They are aggressive. Territorial. Destructive. Have little or no regard for their own. And, with no natural predator, their population has outgrown their food and water resources, resulting in one herd attacking another--”
“That’s to be expected, Commissioner Zye,” interrupts a panelist two seats over. “Remember, these are simple creatures with limited adaptation skills.”
Commissioner Zye nods. ”Noted. I think my fear is that their proclivity for violence will not stay self-contained. Their nature is one of using up the resources of a region, then simply moving on. This report details some of their early attempts at migration beyond their own realm, so we must weigh the possibility that one day they might stretch their hunting grounds in our direction...”
The panelist on the far right jumps up. “Unacceptable! These creatures are horrid and vile. They pose a great threat. I move to have them eradicated immediately.”
“Hear, hear,” call out a good number of the group in unison.
“But, wait...wait...” Montee raises his hand. “Did you not listen to the Sound-maker? Feel its impact? See how this changes everything?”
“Sound-maker?”
“Yes... the little box included with my report.”
“Well, no...we thought the report brought forth enough of their nature. No need to—“
“Never mind,” Montee interrupts with a huff. “Let me show you.”
Feeling the weight of the commission’s eyes upon him, he shifts a stack of his papers, revealing a small device. A set of wires dangle from it leading down to large boxes that sit to either side of him. With a smile, he swipes the device’s glass cover and the grim hall suddenly fills with magical sounds.
There’s a collective gasp and several of the commissioners spring to their feet.
“What...what is that?”
“It’s called music.”
“And these creatures make this, uh, music?”
“Yes,” he says, swiping the glass to turn it off. “As repulsive as these creatures may be, they bring hope in their art. And music. Throughout their Earth they play it in so many different forms, yet each speaks to the heart, as if it were a universal language.”
“We’d love to hear more,” says the Chair.
“Of course. Please...listen to the music.”
“It would seem that the lengthy time you’ve invested in your research, intimately intermingling with these creatures, no less”—he pauses, thumbing through the archaic stack of papers and images—“has concluded with a rather extensive, and I must say, impressive report. Correct me if I am wrong, but my readings do not provide a favorable impression of this species. They are aggressive. Territorial. Destructive. Have little or no regard for their own. And, with no natural predator, their population has outgrown their food and water resources, resulting in one herd attacking another--”
“That’s to be expected, Commissioner Zye,” interrupts a panelist two seats over. “Remember, these are simple creatures with limited adaptation skills.”
Commissioner Zye nods. ”Noted. I think my fear is that their proclivity for violence will not stay self-contained. Their nature is one of using up the resources of a region, then simply moving on. This report details some of their early attempts at migration beyond their own realm, so we must weigh the possibility that one day they might stretch their hunting grounds in our direction...”
The panelist on the far right jumps up. “Unacceptable! These creatures are horrid and vile. They pose a great threat. I move to have them eradicated immediately.”
“Hear, hear,” call out a good number of the group in unison.
“But, wait...wait...” Montee raises his hand. “Did you not listen to the Sound-maker? Feel its impact? See how this changes everything?”
“Sound-maker?”
“Yes... the little box included with my report.”
“Well, no...we thought the report brought forth enough of their nature. No need to—“
“Never mind,” Montee interrupts with a huff. “Let me show you.”
Feeling the weight of the commission’s eyes upon him, he shifts a stack of his papers, revealing a small device. A set of wires dangle from it leading down to large boxes that sit to either side of him. With a smile, he swipes the device’s glass cover and the grim hall suddenly fills with magical sounds.
There’s a collective gasp and several of the commissioners spring to their feet.
“What...what is that?”
“It’s called music.”
“And these creatures make this, uh, music?”
“Yes,” he says, swiping the glass to turn it off. “As repulsive as these creatures may be, they bring hope in their art. And music. Throughout their Earth they play it in so many different forms, yet each speaks to the heart, as if it were a universal language.”
“We’d love to hear more,” says the Chair.
“Of course. Please...listen to the music.”
