Office for the Dispersal of Information, Selena City

The State Journalist shifted behind his desk. " I am afraid I don't understand. You claim the aliens ran towards the disaster?

You understand the penalties for misinformation. It will cost you your job, at the very least. If I publish this account of yours, it will definitely cost me mine! Start again, from the beginning."

The Civil Safety Officer was squirming under the pressure. "Sir, the alarms went off correctly. I began evacuating all the personnel out of the area. Everything was fine, exactly as we train for.

Then it started to go wrong. The human contingent was moved safely out of the building, I began moving them on."

The State Journalist nodded " An acceptable story. Why are you needlessly exaggerating it?"

The Civil Safety Officer began fluttering it's crest " Sir, that's when it began to go wrong! Casualties were projected to be well within the norm for a Category Four Event. Our cost/benefit analysis is state of the art!"

"Again, acceptable."

"Then one of the humans asked me what had happened. I explained that one of the city capacitors had failed, igniting several buildings. I reassured the human that it was a normal failure, that the city budgeted for this kind of thing, that it would be compensated for any losses."

It paused, trying to comprehend what had happened next. Reassuring himself that he hadn't lost his mind.

"The human became aggressive. I explained that, once the fire died down, we would recover any property or remains. That the families of the casualties would be compensated.

He began asking about ' fire services' and 'rescue teams'. I'm afraid I misunderstood. I explained again that city personnel would approach as soon as the danger had passed."

"The human became angry. Its language was vile. Then it spoke to the other humans and they turned and ran towards the disaster zone."

The State Journalist stopped taking notes.

"Perhaps they didn't know that interfering in a Category Four Event is a felony. I have never met one of these Humans. Perhaps they are a scavenger species, attracted to death?"

The Civil Safety Officer was now fluttering wildly.

"I attempted to prevent them from leaving. One of the humans struck me, I was incapacitated. Those creatures are dangerous, perhaps mad."

The State Journalist was inclined to agree. Unfortunately, now he had to interview these creatures.

"Thank you for your contribution. You may not speak of this event until I publish the official account, and you are forbidden from deviating from that account once it's published. You understand?"

The Civil Safety Officer scrambled out of the room, its feathers settling in relief.

"Of course, Sir."

Outside his office were a pair of heavily armed Uncivil Security Officers. They were guarding a large, tired and untidy human.

The Journalist called them in.

"You may leave the human here and wait outside."

The Officers were reluctant. "Honoured Sir, we believe the alien is dangerous. Our orders are to remain with it at all times."

The State Journalist examined the creature. It didn't look aggressive at the moment, just tired.

"Wait outside the door. I'm afraid this interview is classified. I'll call you if I need you."

He looked at the human." Please make yourself comfortable and identify yourself."

The human looked around. A couple of miserable office chairs for children and a couch that looked like it was an ornament. He went for the couch, getting comfortable for the first time in a very long day.

"My name is Shields. Arron Shields. I'm a human from the Sol system. What's yours?"

The State Journalist was shocked. His name was confidential, not to be used at work, or at all really. His own mate might have forgotten it by now.

"You may refer to me as State Journalist. That is my title and position."

"Bit of a mouthful. You must be a bundle of laughs at the office parties. I'll call you Journo. It's the human equivalent."

The State Journalist was confused. His translation software was perfect. The word Journo didn't exist, but the humans were new. He didn't want to be incorrect.

"Perhaps you can explain why you and your colleagues committed a felony on your second day on the planet?"

Shields looked up at that. "A felony? What for? Do I need to stick around for court or something?"

The State Journalist paused and grabbed his notes. This human understood nothing.

"There is no court. You entered a Class Four Event and assaulted a Civil Safety Officer. Those are the facts. I am simply writing the official account of the event. Afterwards you will serve your sentence.

Your colleagues have already been committed. You were selected simply to explain the events. Unless I need to speak to them, they will remain in custody."

Arron had a brief idea of the chaos his friends would be causing right now. " So, already sentenced. For how long?"

"That will depend on how much your interference with the Class Four Event cost. If you have distorted the cost/benefit, that would affect the number. Probably eleven cycles. That's normally the sentence."

"Fuck. How long is a cycle on this planet?"

The Journalist responded, as to a hatchling.

" Two hundred and eighty days, of course.

Please, can you return to the matter in hand. It is important that we understand your behaviour. We need to keep our risk analysis up to date."

"Alright, Journo, here's what happened. We were negotiating for mining rights in your outer system, then something blew up. Something big.

There was some kind of alarm and we were led outside. Everyone- your people- just sort of wandered away. I asked some little guy in a uniform what was going on.

He told me one of your city capacitors had exploded - you do know what kind of a shit idea it is to build a capacitor that big in a city is, right?"

The State Journalist shook his beak. "I am unfamiliar with the technical aspects of this incident. That is the responsibility of the City."

"Anyway, I asked him if we could help. We are all Engineers, most of us with a background in Rescue and Recovery. Mining tends to produce people like us.

He was being a dick, told us that no-one was coming. Said your people would wait until the fire died down and then they'd collect the dead. He seemed to think we were worried about insurance. Idiot. I may have given him a slap when he got in the way"

The State Journalist sighed, familiar as he was with conflicting stories, this was something else. How was he supposed to write any of this? The alien was mad.

"So you sought to interfere? I assure you, our system is perfect. Your intervention was unnecessary! The damage in these situations is always the same. It is carefully assessed from previous examples, then costed and appropriate plans made. What could you hope to achieve?"

Arron shrugged. "Just the simple stuff. Save people from a burning building or two, patch up the injured, take the names of the dead. You know. Rescue."

Feeling he had to explain, the State Journalist looked back to his training " You could have been hurt. You or your colleagues could have died.

You entered a Class Four! Didn't you realise the risk? You are aliens, there is no way you were connected to the casualties or property. Risk/benefits are clear. What you did was insanity."

Arron shrugged again. He was tired and this place made less sense every time someone tried to explain things.

"Look, you want to hear the rest or not?"

"I'm sorry, please continue."

"So we saw the fires. Three of us went into the first building, the other three went next door. I was in some sort of school. Lots of bad paintings and bright colours.

I guess kids are the same everywhere. We started grabbing the little ones.. you know your kids weigh fuck all? Cute as buttons but I could carry six at a time.

Anyway, we cleared the place, got them out of harm's way. Then the roof collapsed.

We left the kids with their teachers and went to help the team next door. You have to realise we were waiting for your rescue services to turn up. Instead we got arrested"

The State Journalist was at a loss. "You used that term before. Can you explain what it means? I assume you don't mean our clearance teams."

"Yeah, we realized that the little guy who tried to stop us was serious. You don't have any rescue. Humans respond to any and all accidents by engaging with the situation immediately. We try and rescue anyone involved and limit the damage. We don't do math about it."

He waved his hands to emphasize his point

" We train for years, cycles to do it properly. How to enter a fire, how to do first aid, all that stuff. How to build safe fucking buildings. Yours are shite. No fire doors, no fire suppression. Nothing."

The State Journalist thought maybe he had found the problem. "You must have a very small population. We number several billion, it would be an expensive waste to attempt to protect each individual from such events."

Arron laughed " We have many times your population. Nearly all are protected, as much as possible, by our systems.

Brave men and women who spend their lives on this, and have done for hundreds of years. You're just a bunch of cynical assholes. Humanity will despise you. Not because you can't save your people but because you don't fucking try."

The State Journalist was shaken. He had written many stories about such unhappy events, carefully updating the algorithm that valued life and property. The idea of a world of people that didn't care about the cost was shocking.

"You said you interfered with a school. While it is, of course, regrettable that hatchlings would suffer, economically it makes no sense. They do not contribute and the number lost per cycle is minimal. Are you suggesting we build an entire infrastructure to provide 'rescue' for them?"

Arron had had enough. He stood up. " I don't think I can explain. On our worlds, a child's life is worth everything. There is simply no measuring the value. It doesn't apply. Publish that."

Office for the Dispersal of Information, Disciplinary Committee

The State Journalist sat in front of the board. He had no illusions about what was about to happen here.

"What possessed you to publish such a thing? You attack our very profession! Even as we speak, the riots continue. Everyone with a hatchling is demanding this 'rescue' you wrote so much about. We have been forced to release the humans, just to get them off our planet."

The State Journalist knew that this was his farewell speech. He had practiced it in front of a mirror for longer than he was willing to admit.

"Sir, the humans are right. We have been blinded by math and tradition. This will not be cheap. It doesn't matter, because it is right."

He was glad Shields was out of this mess, but still, he had liked the strange creature.

"I'm sorry you released the humans, I think we will need them, or others like them, to help us."

"You have betrayed every principal of your office. You are fired. Never will you carry the title of State Journalist again! Consider yourself lucky you are not incarcerated as well."

The former State Journalist stood up. " I am content with your decision and I no longer want that title. I have been given a new one. You may call me Journo."

Mining ship Rock Me Baby, Outer System, accelerating

Shields had had a long week. Fire, prison and then a midnight pardon and a quick shuttle. At least everyone was back on the ship. What a fucked up planet. Xenos, didn't matter what you did, you were wrong.

"Hey Shields, call from Earth. Pick up will you."

"Shields here, what's up?"

"Engineer Shields, this is the Human Xeno Relations Committee. We just called to say thanks."

Arron was confused. The XRC were usually the ones bitching about behaviour. Especially about Engineers.

"Err, thanks for what? It wasn't our proudest moment."

"We just received orders for eleven million fire extinguishers and more. You have grown men weeping back here. Standard contact commission applies, so I think your mining days are over unless you want to buy a planet and dig it up for fun. Tell your crew. Congratulations."