The Trojan Horse by Christopher Nuttall Page B

that it hadn't been built with humans in mind.  The proportions were odd to his eyes, casting a faint air of unreality over the entire scene; the lighting was bright, almost bright enough to hurt.  It smelled strange to his nose, something almost familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on the precise scent.  The aliens who had arrived to serve as silent escorts beckoned them forward whenever they started to fall behind, as if they were impatient to begin.  Jason found himself struggling to contain mounting excitement as they were finally shown into what was clearly a lecture hall.  It was large enough to hold almost two hundred humans.
     
    He smiled as he took one of the seats and waited patiently.  The Galactics had offered to give information sessions to humans – and Jason, as the Discoverer, had found it easy to get a place.  He felt as if he didn't belong among the gathering of political leaders, businessmen and even a handful of religious representatives, but it hardly mattered.  How could he have refused the chance to actually ask questions of beings who had seen what awaited the human race in space?
     
    ***
    An hour later, he was feeling much less optimistic.  The Galactics – they all seemed to be the same race, almost indistinguishable from one another – had opened with a brief session that repeated what they’d said at the UN, and then followed up with a series of blandishments that were long on optimism and short on detail.  They seemed happy to answer some questions in great detail, but other subjects seemed to draw imprecise answers – or even a simple refusal to answer at all.  It galled him as much as it puzzled him; they’d been promised answers, yet all they’d been given were bland statements that were devoid of any actual content.
     
    Impatiently, he raised his hand.  The alien standing in front of them – wearing a black unmarked tunic and a hood that almost seemed to cover the alien face, but not the bright red eyes – looked at him, inviting him to speak.  SETI had primed him with any number of questions about the universe, yet so far he hadn't had an opportunity to ask any of them.  And now that he did, he wasn't sure if he wanted to ask after all.  The answers might not be forthcoming, or he might not want to know...
     
    “You’ve told us that there are many forms of intelligent life among the stars,” he said, without preamble.  SETI had picked up on one thing about the Galactics that really didn't make sense.  For a multiracial society – in the truest possible sense – they seemed to all share the same racial origin.  “Why haven’t you introduced us to other forms of intelligent life?”
     
    There was a pause as the alien appeared to consider.  Jason had once attended a political rally where the candidate had made the mistake of too-obviously depending upon prompts from his political manager, waiting in the wings and using a concealed earpiece to advise his master.  The alien seemed to be doing the same, although it was impossible to tell for sure.  They might be simply checking and rechecking the translation.  There had been a number of confusing utterances made by the aliens that had been blamed on translator error.
     
    “Your race is unprepared to encounter more than one other form of intelligent life at present,” the alien said, finally.  They hadn't been given any names, or any other way of telling the aliens apart, something that bugged Jason and everyone else.  “You must understand that while there are many races that are humanoid, there are many others which have almost nothing in common with your race.  We were chosen to meet with you as we share a superficial similarity in form, but no biological similarity that might open the risk of a disease passing from an alien race to your own.”
     
    Jason frowned.  He’d read The War of the Worlds in grade school and he’d been disappointed by the ending.  SETI, however, believed quite