Edited Transcript of Transmissions from the Embassy on Krillia Prior to the Incident

For Cabinet Ministers Only

We have just moved into the embassy building today. I apologise for the lack of communication since we left orbit, but as you can imagine there has been so much to do. The main problem is the Krillians’ lack of the concept of private property. We have had to erect a strong fence around the compound and install additional security doors inside the building, otherwise the Krillians simply wander all over the place. I felt it necessary to delay transmissions until I could be sure of having a secure base to operate from, so to speak.

This I see as the most exciting of the challenges facing me. This is a truly alien culture, in every sense of the word. The language is in many ways the simplest of barriers to overcome. Though their language seems to have a dozen meanings for every word, this will be resolved by the battery of linguists and computers we have with us. Much more difficult is the total lack of a common experience on which to base our conversations.

The simplest of things are wrought with difficulty. The Krillians have a total of six sexes, for instance. Although I assume that only two are responsible for the actual conception, there appears to be a whole arcane ritual involving all six sexes that take place over a Krillian year. So inviting dignitaries to social occasions is a nightmare. How many of his entourage will attend with a politician? How does one word the invitation? The very simplest of interactions becomes a minefield of possibilities.

This is what excites me the most about this posting, and I am looking forward to progressing relations between our two peoples to a point where we can both understand the other from a cultural as well as a linguistic point of view.

I think that I may have under-estimated the difficulties in the language. Despite our wide variety of languages on Earth, they all have one thing in common: they are spoken. Krillian, it appears, is more than just a spoken language. This explains why each word has so many meanings. Much of the meaning of the words is conveyed by body language, especially the positioning of the antennae. You can see the difficulty I face, attempting to talk the language without the necessary equipment.

Whilst my attempts at greeting my guests in their native tongue (though of course they do not have a tongue as such) are appreciated, I’m sure, I was a little alarmed as to the impression some of them had. At least one visitor thought that I had introduced myself, not as the ambassador, but as the temple prostitute (not an accurate translation, but how do we accurately translate a sexual role that has no comparison in any scenario on Earth?). Many more thought I introduced myself as the coward. This is potentially much more serious, as the Krillians are by nature a martial society.

To this end I have had one of the boys make me up a set of posable antennae that I strap to my head, and manipulate by hand as I talk. It looks ridiculous and is cumbersome, and a more permanent solution would be to have a motorised version with a remote control. However, in the short term it seems to do the job, and I hope that it will help reduce further misunderstanding.

Relations are moving ahead, albeit at a slow pace, but each day we inch closer together. I must reserve much of my praise for my Krillian counterpart, the curiously entitled Chief Scout. Being a hive community, many of their first contacts with others come from the scouting parties each hive sends out. Hence ‘ambassador’ roughly equates to ‘scout’. Anyway, he tries very hard to speak English to me, though of course his diction cannot possibly be accurate with his physiology. Likewise, I’m sure my Krillian is painful for him. But we manage a little conversation between each other, though official talks are always handled by translators, for fear an innocent remark might be open to misinterpretation.

He is very interested in our culture, and constantly expresses amazement or disbelief. His society and the various discoveries I have made that I attach to these reports fascinate me in turn. I have to constantly remind myself to make no value judgements, and he too must privately condemn some of our practices.

For instance, procreation is a very holy act for them, surrounded by religion and elaborate ritual. That we feel free to have sex whenever the desire between two consenting adults dictate is sacrilege to them, just as the lack of choice that they have as to their role in society smacks of oppression to me. It is the way that our species have evolved, and as such we must respect each other’s practices.

Our garden is coming on nicely now. The salad vegetables are growing well in the soil, and are immune to any of the local pests. In the event, though, our concerns over food have proved groundless. The local vegetables are edible, and though they taste a little strange, they are quite palatable. As per the advice of the xenobiologists, we are avoiding eating meat. Although the Krillians appear to be omnivores, it is better not to appear to be meat-eating monsters from outer space.

We held a reception for the local hive leaders last night. It seemed to go well, thanks to the Chief Scout’s advice over what to serve and when. It appears that my concerns over how many wives, or whatever the equivalent is, would attend were unfounded. Officials do not expect to bring any of their family to these sorts of things. We played a variety of Earth music, and a Krillian ensemble played Krillian music. I’m afraid that it made no sense to me at all, but then much of today’s music back on Earth leaves me cold as well.

There was an awkward moment when two of our staff started to dance. The Krillians thought that there was some sort of fight breaking out, and started to screech the most awful noise. Apparently we had breached some holy law, which was all very embarrassing. Who would have thought Hassidic rabbis and Krillian politicians would be in such agreement over couples dancing? Chief Scout and I smoothed things over, but I must admit for a moment, when all that screaming sounded, I was in a fearful panic. Still, we know better now, and dancing will be strictly off the agenda at any future events.

Despite the events of last week, in general the party was a success. So much so that we will be invited to a Krillian feast in return. It appears that this marks the end of the first phase of Krillian courtship, a sort of mass engagement party. Chief Scout is a little vague about the details. It appears to be taboo to talk about their religion, and religion and courtship are intertwined here. At least we will not be getting any intergalactic Jehovah Witnesses arriving on our doorstep.

I regret to inform you of the death of Simon Dean, one of our translators. It is a terrible thing when one so young and gifted is taken from us in an untimely manner. I have attached the full details about his death, but let me take this opportunity to explain the circumstances.

The Krillians have a highly structured and ordered society. Variation from the norm is not tolerated. That is to say, it is so in-built into their makeup that they cannot conceive of opposition to it. Any Krillian that deviates is a criminal, much in the same way that on earth someone who deviates by, say, murdering someone is a criminal. Though this may sound harsh to our ears, it is the way that the Krillian live. Minor infractions against the hive are dealt with summarily. It is not unusual to see a Krillian beating a junior for the smallest offence, and the Krillians, from the top to the bottom of the hierarchy, accept this as the right thing to do. They have no concept of a police force, as they are all responsible for the society that they live in.

I was in talks with a Krillian responsible for their scientists about the exchange of technology between our peoples. Simon was translating, as was a Krillian. Simon made the social faux pas of correcting the Krillian’s translation, and interrupting the scientist to do so. The Krillian instinctively struck Simon, intending it as a reprimand. Unfortunately, we don’t have the carapace that Krillians have, and the blow was of such a strength that Simon was killed instantly.

The Krillians have immediately expressed their concern over the incident, and have apologised without reservation. Bearing in mind that the Krillians see apologies as a sign of weakness and humiliation, this is an amazing expression of their contriteness over the incident. Chief Scout has pleaded their case, and is most anxious that this incident should not sour our relations. I am satisfied that this was an entirely unintentional accident, and Chief Scout assures me that steps are being taken to ensure that such a tragic incident never happens again.

I suggest that we put this unfortunate incident behind us and continue our mission here. To this end I still intend to attend their party on the 28^th of this month.

It is becoming increasingly difficult not to make judgements about our hosts. Our psychology is so different it is amazing we can speak at all.

Chief Scout told me steps would be taken over the tragic death of Mr Dean, and so they have. Today Chief Scout delivered to me the head of the Krillian that killed poor Simon, as though he were delivering a letter. He could not understand my horror.

Nevertheless, I think that this demonstrates their concern. This is, apparently, the first deliberate execution in Krillian history, as far as I can tell. I have begged him not to do this again, though I sense that he feels aggrieved that I did not accept this token in the spirit it was meant.

Still, we learn, we move on. I hope to God that we can understand each other better to avoid such disasters in future.

Oh my God. My God. They are animals. They are monsters. I can’t believe… I can’t believe that they did that. I’m sorry, I have been drinking. But my God, there isn’t enough drink in the world. They… what they did. Oh my dear Lord, what they did. And they wanted me to join in. They…

[INAUDIBLE, POSSIBLY RETCHING SOUNDS]

Why did we come here? Oh my God, take me home. For the love of God, bring me home. I can’t… [SOBBING]

Sorry, sorry. I’m drunk. I’ll get back to you.

I can barely believe what happened last night, but when I went out to the garden this morning, there she was.

I’m sorry, let me try and explain.

Last night I attended the ‘engagement party’. It was held deep in the hive city, underneath the central tower. The room was a large circular affair, tiered, like an amphitheatre. There were drinks, but no food. The attendees were exclusively what I think of as male, the dominant gender amongst the Krillians.

A Krillian orchestra was playing throughout the evening, pieces that had no tune to my ear, but an insistent beat throughout. Chief Scout sat by my side, explaining the subtleties of this and that.

Then a group of Krillians entered, of a type that I had not seen before. Chief Scout explained to me that they did not venture out of the building, spending their entire life there. They were a vital part of Krillian courtship, and their entire purpose in life was to start the process of procreation.

Unlike the other Krillians I had seen, they had no protective carapace. They were small, perhaps half the height of a normal Krillian, but much plumper. They filled the stage in the centre of the room and started to dance to the music. Chief Scout explained that that was why there had been such concern at the dancing at the embassy. The guests had thought that they were being invited to become engaged, and that this was unacceptable.

But here it seemed to be very acceptable. Every male’s eyes were fixed on the dancers, even Chief Scout’s. Some would stand and shout, only to be pulled back into his seat by his neighbours. There was a tension in the room that even a human could sense. The males became more and more agitated, to the point that I was becoming quite uncomfortable.

Then the dancers stopped, and with one voice cried out a Krillian word even I could translate. ‘Eat’.

With that, the whole room descended on them. I can’t even begin to describe the horror of it. Even now, I am shaking and nauseous with the memory.

They ate them. They just fell on them and ripped them apart with their mandibles. It was horrible. They just ate them alive. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The dancers themselves seemed to enjoy it. There was no screaming, there was no attempt to run away. They just offered themselves up.

I know I should not judge. I know I should have made an excuse and left. But I was rooted to the spot. I could not move. I was horror-struck. It was only when Chief Scout came up to me with an arm, as a gift, I suppose, that I could move. I ran from the room, Chief Scout chasing after me. He was genuinely concerned about me, I think. He escorted me home to the embassy.

This morning a gift was left for me. One of the dancers. Alive, dancing in the garden. When I went to see her, she would only say the Krillian word ‘eat’. I tried to explain to her that she was free to go home, but I think that her mental capacity is not such that she can understand much. I had to leave when she tried to place her arm in my mouth. My stomach was heaving dry retches.

I have contacted Chief Scout to get him to remove the abomination from the embassy, but he won’t hear of it. I have disgraced myself in Krillian eyes, defiled their holy practices. He warned me that I must eat my gift, if only to appease the community. He realises, I think, that morality is culture-specific. That we must not judge according to our own standards. But how can we not? How can I not be filled with horror and outrage at them? How can they not at us?

This has been a total disaster. I wonder if we will ever be able to recover?

The dancer died some time during the night. Chief Scout tells me that this was to be expected. They live only to feed the males before courtship. That is their life expectancy. I have apparently angered the entire populace by allowing her to die uneaten. Now she is past her sell-by-date. There is a mob outside the fence, and Chief Scout informs me that he will no longer be able to attend the embassy.

I have instructed the staff to destroy any documentation. We have issued weapons to the security staff. I can see no light at the end of the tunnel.

They have breached the compound. There is gunfire from downstairs. We are some 150 souls, they are an entire planet. There will only be one outcome.

I suppose that this was inevitable. We are too far apart. We cannot build bridges across entire oceans. May I suggest all further diplomacy is carried out at a distance. Please, for the love of God, please do not send another party onto the surface of this planet.

Do not try to avenge us. They are no more evil than us. We are just different. We are, in every sense, from different worlds. And if there is one thing we can salvage from this, it…

[TRANSMISION ENDED]