Dark Matters (standard:science fiction, 5612 words)
Author: Eutychus	Added: May 25 2005	Views/Reads: 3536/2382	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Alien wholesalers, intriguing gadgets, and a few items that seem too good to be true. Would humanity walk down this road a second time? Thoughts welcome. Am I just too obvious with this effort?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“Yes it is. Thanks.” 

I was ushered into a very plain office a few minutes later and
introductions were made. The regional sales manager introduced me to 
the practice of addressing a Trid by both first and last name to show 
respect for both the individual and their family. Because of my limited 
abilities, he suggested that I simply use the first syllables of each 
name. When I explained that this would have me calling him Grendel, the 
monster from the Beowulf epic, he seemed pleased to be thusly 
associated with a human piece of literature. To differentiate, I placed 
the emphasis on the second syllable. 

“Grendel, just how am I expected to be of service to you?” 

“Though I have studied your world and its many cultures for some time
now, I do not always know when which customs might apply. I flustered a 
member of the Sony corporation last week by calling for medical aid 
when he bowed to me. That is a difficult posture for my species, and I 
assumed a need where there was none. I need someone to help me put 
forth a comfortable persona, one with whom people might feel at ease. 
Your background in cultural anthropology should help me present myself 
that way. You know not only the customs, but the reasons for them as 
well.” 

“I see. Wouldn't a book have done the same thing at a lower cost?” 

“I think the word is ‘nuances'. A book would never be able to explain
the nuances of your cultures like a human with experience in the 
cultures. Then I also need someone to bounce ideas off when approaching 
how best to market something. You will tell me when something I propose 
offends kosher sensibilities, agitates some group sensitive to a point 
of view, or crosses ethical boundaries I may not know about.” 

“Then this is a full time position. You would be surprised by how easily
some humans take offense.” 

“Yes, full time and then some, once we get into a routine. But I will
not make demands that will detract from your family obligations. Those 
are very important. I want you to understand that I take such things 
very seriously and that I appreciate the way your species, overall, 
shares this passion. I have decided that I like humans and will enjoy 
doing business with them.” 

I wondered if I was a cultural liaison or a pet. He explained the
benefits package and associated minutiae and then acquiesced to some of 
my technical questions. 

“May I ask how your species manages the mind boggling distances you
travel?” 

“I am not well-versed in these things, but I know that it involves a
transfer of matter. At the edge of every star system, there is a point 
at which the gravity of the local group and the primary star of the 
system reach equilibrium. In your system, that point is close to half a 
billion miles beyond Pluto. At that point, certain aspects of quantum 
physics may be bent. The method of travel we use requires that a mass 
of matter at this end of the trip equal to the mass of the ship and its 
cargo must take the place of the ship at our end of the trip. Because 
it is at this point of equal attractions that comets linger between 
trips around your sun, there is always something available for the 
exchange. Once the exchange takes place, fusion motors or chemical 
engines provide propulsion within your solar system.” 

“And on the return trip, the comet returns to its place at the edge of
the solar system?” 

“Or some portion of it. As I said, equal masses. If we delivered several
tons of  a particular mineral, we would try and return home with 
perhaps an equal quantity of chicken wings. This accomplishes three 
things. It gives my race a taste of your world's protein, it 
discourages establishing a trade deficit so that all worlds may 
continue to benefit from our activities, and it keeps us from having to 
dissect a comet because of a change in mass. The last thing we need is 
more garbage cluttering up our space lanes.” 

I left the discussion at that. While I hadn't the aptitude to grasp the
physics behind the Trid mode of travel, it was still good to know the 
basics. 

For the next few weeks, Grendel had me analyzing transcripts of phone,
video, and email discussions he had with various people in the course 
of his work. I pointed out a few social blunders, but none that would 
cause major damage to anyone's bottom line. I read up on a lot of the 
technology they offered and was truly impressed. I expect the fuel cell 
the size of a roll of quarters capable of producing enough electricity 
to run a car for five years at a stretch to become a hot ticket item 
and will anticipate a company discount when they become available. 

Because he wanted to understand the dynamics of human relationships, he
soon became a frequent dinner guest at my place. He commented that the 
brother and sister animosity displayed by my ten and twelve year olds 
was not unique to Earth. He was impressed that my wife and I took it in 
stride and dealt with it well. 

“Are we making a good impression?” Kate asked as we prepared some coffee
and dessert for the post-meal calm in the den after our children had 
taken off to play with some of the other neighborhood kids. 

“I really don't think this is about making an impression. I get the
feeling that Grendel misses his own family. And on that point, I need 
to ask him something.” 

Grendel monopolized the after dinner discussion and my family structure
question never got asked. He brought out what I thought was his version 
of a PDA, but it turned out to be a photo album that reminded me of the 
old HP commercials that used the Kinks' tune “Picture book” for 
inspiration. Curiously, the photo array only showed a single family 
unit. There was no evidence of the Trid multiple-adult blended family I 
had learned about in my research. 

“I feel that this sampling of protein was good for me,” Grendel said,
reflecting on the meatloaf we had eaten earlier. 

“Do you really mean ‘good for me' or just ‘good'?” Kate asked. 

“Good for me. I carry a gene that makes it necessary for me to ingest a
lot of protein, and I think this particular sampling was good for the 
condition I have.” 

Unsure if it would be uncomfortable for him if I pried, I chose not to.
Instead, I invited him to a neighborhood barbecue that was planned for 
the coming weekend where he would be able to sample ribs, burgers, 
chicken, and hot dogs. 

Early in the week, I checked in with my ex-student to report on upcoming
offerings to various companies. There was more information for sale 
this week than anything else, and sometimes that worried the Committee 
more than some new gadget. 

“I understand that you entered this arrangement with the Committee as a
passive operative, meaning that you would be reporting on things you 
happen across. I'd like to push the definition of that agreement by 
asking you to research something particular,” Palmer said after the 
initial exchange of knowledge. “We have been working with a mineral of 
Trid origin in the lab for several weeks now and are really impressed 
with it. I'd like you to get any details regarding the mineral that 
doesn't come out in the PowerPoint presentation.” 

“I'll give it my all. What's it called?” 

“The trade name is tenebrium, spelled just like it sounds. It forms in
the presence of tectonic activity on the Trid home world. Heat and 
pressure force several elements into an interesting compound that has 
industrial applications in solid, liquid, and gaseous states. The most 
interesting I have run across is the fact that the mineral, in its 
liquid form, will undergo polymerization. We have created an alloy with 
it and some of our home grown polymers that the computer models tell us 
would quadruple the output of a standard fuel cell.” 

“We may be able to come up with a fuel cell that would make the Trid
fuel cell seem like a pale knockoff?” 

“Perhaps. Everything we have done with this mineral gives us every
indication that it is just too good a thing to be true. You know what 
they say about something that seems too good to be true, right?” 

For the rest of the week I tried means subtle, discrete, blatant and
obvious, and learned nothing more about tenebrium than what was 
available from the marketing arm of the Trid Corporate Expeditionary 
Force, which told me there was more to be learned. 

Saturday morning before the barbecue, I spent an hour changing the
brakes on our car. I considered the respirator lying in the bottom 
drawer of what had been my dad's tool chest and wondered why it was in 
with his tools for working on his car. I had memories of him wearing 
the thing when the wheels were on the floor of the garage with the lug 
nuts carefully placed in the hubcaps. Those memories came hand in hand 
with memories of him chasing me out of the garage until he was finished 
with his work. Until that morning, I had never thought to ask him why. 
I had always assumed he simply did not want a kid under foot. 

After I finished my brake job, I did a little research on the Net. The
P-100 filter cartridge in Dad's respirator was specified for use around 
paints, solvents, and asbestos. Hmm. That led to another hour of 
Internet searching. 

“Good morning, Kyle Valendar,” Grendel said as he exited his car and
approached Kate and myself by the tomato plants next to the front 
porch. 

“ 'Morning, Grendel,” Kate said with a little wave. 

Grendel did not seem to be in a mood for small talk. For some odd
reason, he seemed intent on discussing the ethical problems human 
governments might have with the Trid peddling their cloning technology 
on Earth. Though our own dubious flirtation with cloned livestock and 
animals on the endangered species list had been ongoing since twenty 
fifty, the United Nations ban on human cloning remained in force a 
century after it had gone into effect. There were no signs of changes 
to that mandate happening any time in the near future. 

“What is this fear your species seems to have regarding growing
replacement parts?” Grendel asked. 

“I don't think there is an organized resistance to therapeutic cloning,
and we got over the problem of using frozen embryos when they perfected 
a means of using adult stem cells in this research. But growing healthy 
organs is not yet commercially viable.” 

“I'm sure we can provide you with the means to benefit your citizens
while still maintaining the integrity of your legal mandates regarding 
replacement technology.” 

“If you are meeting with resistance to your overtures, it may be more a
matter of pride than ethics. We are a very self-deterministic sort, we 
humans. We have never had outside help available before and you are 
probably experiencing the bruised ego of human ingenuity. Of course, 
just knowing that replacement organs can be grown may be all our 
researchers need to find the answers they need on their own. I hope 
you'll forgive our tendency to want to do things on our own.” 

“I understand perfectly. But a big part of joining the much larger
community that we represent will be learning to appreciate the benefits 
you can derive from species other than your own. I will be unashamedly 
deriving both pleasure and benefits from this afternoon's meal with no 
emotions involved other than appreciation.” 

“Yes, we'll have to do some growing in short order, I can see that. But
if I may broach the subject of your medical situation, is there nothing 
that all this replacement technology can do for you?” I asked, knowing 
that the question would either force out the details I had been 
unwilling to look for when he first mentioned a genetic problem or 
change the subject entirely. 

“The genetic disorder that I mentioned last weekend keeps me from being
able to take advantage of these technologies. My body does not 
recognize its own genetic code in the event of a transplant. This is 
the case with five percent of the population of my world and the only 
recourse for me is to ingest massive quantities of the proper kinds of 
protein. This is another reason why I have a passion about sharing our 
technology with your world. You have made strides with anti-rejection 
drugs that my world never explored because we developed our replacement 
technology before experimenting with transplants. I was hoping we might 
trade the one for the other.” 

“Then there is something else in your makeup that would make
anti-rejection drugs useful?” Kate wondered. 

“Yes. In addition to the genetic disorder I mentioned, I am also subject
to a disorder that effects fifty percent of the adult males of my 
world.” 

“Genetic?” I asked. 

“No, environmental. The damage was done by the time I was a teenager but
has not shown up until recently, which is the reason for my passion 
vis-à-vis protein rich food sources.” 

“Pardon my surprise, but shouldn't a society as advanced as yours be
able to eliminate an environmental problem that causes a quarter of the 
population serious medical problems?” 

“The situation is . . . complicated. There are circumstances both
economic and political that keep us from effectively dealing with the 
problem.” 

“Then you know the cause of the contamination?” 

“Yes, but the contaminant in question is so widespread in both its
natural distribution on the planet and in its uses that any process 
that might remove it from contact with people would be formidably 
complex.” 

“Well then you just stop using it. You find something else that does the
same thing and use it instead,” I told him and explained how we had 
used lead in the past and how the heavy metal had affected people who 
internalized the element via ingestion from lead pipes, pewter eating 
utensils, or lead based paints. 

“In theory, yes, that is the best course of action. But we Trid have a
stubborn streak in us that rivals the one found in humans. When the 
gains are so great that it becomes easy to turn a deaf ear and blind 
eye to the problem, the problem is easily ignored. And the folks who 
process the mineral did just that for many decades even when they knew 
about the problems it would cause.” 

“Were they ever held accountable for this knowledge that went unshared?”


“Attempts both through the courts and the legislatures of most of our
nations were tried and eventually found wanting.” 

“What is the nature of the problems caused by this mineral?” I asked,
realizing that I might have found my source for information on 
tenebrium. 

“It creates something similar to what your doctors call sclera derma.
The skin around the torso thickens and hardens in response to the 
irritation the mineral causes. The chest becomes unable to expand and 
the subject eventually dies from being unable to breathe. It is not a 
way of dying that any of my people would choose if given the choice. 
Though replacement technologies give the affected new skin, there is 
that small percentage of us who cannot take advantage of that option. 
Hence my interest in your anti-rejection drugs.” 

“And consuming the right kinds of proteins slows down the process?” 

“Precisely. It is a stop gap measure that will not prolong life
indefinitely, but I will do whatever I can to remain alive.” 

“As would we all. There is nothing to be done for you?” 

“The companies that mine the mineral funded the development of our
replacement technology and therefore own many of the process patents. 
They profit from selling the mineral and from treating the disease it 
causes. I think they feel that their obligation is at an end. 

“Some of us brought legal action against the companies responsible. In
enough of the cases, we won the judgment and forced them to promise 
they would pursue other forms of treating the disorder. But unseen 
legal maneuvering on the part of these companies allowed them to put 
off dealing with the situation until they felt it was to their best 
advantage, regardless of what became of the people in circumstances 
similar to my own. Medical options remain unexplored; the responsible 
parties have adopted a practice of throwing small sums of money at the 
victims hoping this will solve something. Feeling somewhat 
disenfranchised, I decided to search other worlds for possible cures.” 

“Best of luck in your search. Hope there is something that can be worked
out as per the anti-rejection drugs. Could you explain something to me 
about Trid marital relationships?” 

“I can explain the relationship but can never fully explain Trid
females.” 

“Another thing our species have in common. What is the idea with the
blended marriages? Two males and two females in a union together 
strikes me as just a little complicated.” 

“Oh, you are referring to another outcome of our experience with the
mineral.” 

“That worked its way into defining what constitutes a family?” 

“Not really. You have a misunderstanding of our family relationships. We
have what you call a nuclear family and then there is an extended 
family group that is arranged by the government. There is no 
relationship per se between the other family I and my spouse are 
coupled with. In the event of the death of either spouse in either 
family, the surviving spouse and children become the legal 
responsibility of the extended family. There are no sexual obligations, 
if that is what concerns you regarding the arrangement. It is just a 
means our governments have worked out to minimize the financial and 
emotional burdens of the loss of a spouse.” 

“I see. It is amazing that you would allow a commodity to redefine such
basic relationships in life.” 

“As I said earlier, the dynamic of this mineral in our society is a
complicated one.” 

“This mineral wouldn't be the tenebrium that I was reading about this
week, would it?” I asked, feeling a little like someone at the base of 
a mountain looking up at a precarious snow mass poised to let go if 
someone sneezed. 

“Yes it is. You sound concerned.” 

“Only because humanity has its own version of the same story to tell and
I'm nervous about perhaps having to deal with another chapter. Do you 
know what mals are?” 

“Mal- is a Latin prefix indicating something bad. Malodorous,
malevolent, maladjusted.” 

“Malfeasance, of the corporate variety such as you encountered with your
mineral. On Earth, mals is also an acronym. It stands for Magnesium 
ALuminum Silicates. On the surface this does not sound threatening. 
They sell magnesium tablets to older folks to help them metabolize 
calcium. Aluminum can still be found on the outside of some houses. 
Silicates sound a lot like sand. Nothing dangerous there, so who is 
going to pay attention when the list of ingredients includes mals?” 

“I take it magnesium aluminum silicates have consequences?” Grendel
asked. 

“Indeed they do. Or did. They were finally phased out of the marketplace
some ten years ago, but not before exacting a tremendous toll. Mind 
you, I researched this topic this morning so my knowledge, while fresh 
in my mind, is not likely to be complete. The first thing I learned is 
that mals is the most recent name for a mineral that has been used off 
and on for two thousand years. Its more familiar trade name used to be 
asbestos. When certain facts became known and ‘asbestos' became harder 
to sell, they renamed it. Rather than come up with a solution, they 
gave the problem a different name.” 

“This is interesting because the story has such a familiar feel to it.
Were the producers of this product familiar with its effects?” 

“They knew that it was associated with respiratory problems and they
even funded studies to see just how dangerous it was. When they learned 
how bad bad could get, they did the prudent thing and told no one. They 
continued to develop more and more products that exposed more and more 
people to asbestos and then had the nerve to act surprised when people 
started suing them. When it became obvious that there were tens of  
thousands of people affected, most of whom were going to die and the 
companies began to reap what they had sown, they declared bankruptcy. 
Not that they were anywhere near insolvency. By restructuring under the 
bankruptcy laws, any awards won by plaintiffs in lawsuits were paid in 
pennies on the dollar. A million dollar award became a ten thousand 
dollar award.” 

“How long term is the disease associated with asbestos?” 

“The incubation period can be as long as fifty years, but when a person
became aware they were even sick, they were usually already in the 
final stages of the disease. Very few who filed suit ever learned what 
the outcome of their attempt at justice was.” 

“Are humans so shallow that they think money can make up for the loss of
a loved one?” 

“Of course not. Humans, even from a very young age, have a hard-wired
sense of right and wrong. When someone is wronged, it is understood 
that the one who did the wrong should be held accountable. Because this 
situation was fostered by incremental decisions made over a period of 
many decades, it is difficult to place the blame on an individual or 
even an individual company. So the company is punished, and the only 
kind of punishment appropriate to an entity that exists to turn a 
profit is a monetary penalty.” 

“That doesn't seem much like justice.” 

“I and the families of the affected agree. It must be a universal
formula for this state of affairs. Someone realizes they made the wrong 
decision at some point in the past, decide to throw money at the 
resulting problem hoping it will go away, and then blame the legal 
system for doing its best to make the punishment fit the crime.” 

“You said nothing about developing treatments for the disease they
caused. They did, of course, fund the cure, did they not?” 

“What cure? Any treatment options seem to have come from individuals who
won fractional settlements and donated sizeable chunks to research 
organizations who wanted to see a cure happen. Back when our 
legislators got themselves embroiled in the melee and were attempting 
to solve the ‘asbestos problem' by setting up a trust fund to 
compensate the afflicted and negate any liability for the companies who 
killed tens of thousands over the course of a century, there was a 
chorus of disapproval by victims of asbestos disease. They wanted 
someone to find a cure rather than compensate the dying, and who can 
blame them? Would you rather be around to meet your grandchildren or 
know that the grandchildren would be able to go to college because you 
died from a disease that was entirely preventable?” 

“Obviously I'd like to meet my grandchildren. Why wouldn't this problem
be a priority for the companies and the governments who enact 
legislation to protect workers? I've had dealings with your EPA and 
OSHA and know that there is a conscious concern for the safety of 
workers in your nation.” 

“Remember that the incubation period is measured in decades. By the time
the disease reached the point of actually killing anyone, we are 
talking about old men. Old men die. No one is surprised. And if the old 
man happened to smoke, the lung cancer that killed him might be thought 
understandable. Everyone will accept that he probably did it to himself 
and not look for another cause of death. In fact, it was only at the 
beginning of the 21st century that they even began tracking 
mesothelioma, the deadliest means of demise by asbestos, as a cause of 
death. Come on inside and I'll show you something.” 

After we relocated to the computer, I pulled up a number of pictures I
had downloaded earlier that morning. I scrolled down to one in 
particular and used it to fill the screen. 

“What is this?” Grendel inquired. 

“This is a grave marker. I liked what it said on the back and thought
you would appreciate it too. Can you make it out?” 

“I'm sorry, but I only learned the spoken languages of Earth. Writing is
an entirely different set of Trid learning drugs.” 

“It says ‘This side of the headstone made necessary by W. R. Grace.
Since I doubt they'll accept responsibility, I want to make damn sure 
they get the credit!' I thought that summed up the feelings of the 
afflicted nicely. They cannot get any satisfaction through the courts, 
no one in the government sees fit to fund research into effective 
treatment, and they die because no one had the sense to warn them about 
the dangers. Admittedly, it's a little like a mouse making an obscene 
gesture at the eagle swooping towards it, but I like the sentiment.” 

“I have obviously underestimated the resourcefulness of human corporate
enterprise. For this kind of problem to be ignored for so long must 
have required a tremendous investment in public relations.” 

“I'm sure it did. Every time something surfaced about the carcinogenic
nature of asbestos, someone would have to be there pumping 
misinformation to newspapers that discredited the reporter who broke 
the story, call into question the facts presented, blame the plaintiff 
lawyers for creating an ‘asbestos hysteria' that unfairly demonized 
well-meaning but misunderstood corporations, and contribute to the 
campaigns of  lawmakers up for re-election who would be sympathetic to 
asbestos companies as a result. An ugly picture, to be sure, but since 
no one ever saw the entire landscape all at once, it didn't offend as 
it should have.” 

Grendel shook his head and sighed. “I suppose it's not going to work
here either.” 

“ ‘Here' as in Earth? What won't work?” 

“There is a proviso in my contract with the Corporate Expeditionary
Force which states they will resume funding to search for effective 
treatments for people with my genetic defect if I can provide them with 
a market for tenebrium that will offset the cost of the research. After 
hearing about your planet's experiences with one such mineral, I would 
not inflict another upon it. Tenebrium will not be offered among the 
items we would sell on your world.” 

“After learning what I have about it, I would do my best to discourage
anyone from buying it anyway. I appreciate you taking the high road and 
will do what I can to see that you have access to some of our 
anti-rejection drugs.” 

“I am grateful. But yours is only the second world we have visited that
was capable of making use of tenebrium. There may be other planets in 
the universe whose inhabitants would not be affected by the mineral as 
your race and mine would. Even if your anti-rejection drugs don't help 
us, there are other worlds that may allow me to fulfill that proviso.” 

“Then you will be moving on to the third world?” I asked and felt a
shiver as I remembered how the asbestos companies had refocused their 
efforts after the ban on the use of asbestos took effect in the United 
States in 2110 to establish markets in developing nations. 

“I believe we will. It looks as though this will not be a full time
position for you after all.” 

“I don't think it would have been even if you took a longer term
interest in Earth. Explaining how not to offend people who for all I 
know deserve being offended is not a very fulfilling way of making a 
living. I have always been a teacher, and part of the satisfaction 
comes from seeing the student figure it out for himself. You have no 
desire to learn, but simply have a need to know. It's not the same.” 

“Understood. When the time comes, please remember to return your
security badge.” 

Return my security badge? I had considered keeping it as a souvenir. It
was a pretty impressive piece of technology in itself. A holographic 
photo, full medical profile on a magnetic strip and a DNA sample for 
use in accessing higher-level security areas of the Trid embassy. Wait 
a minute! 

“Grendel, how many other humans are working for you?” 

“You are the only one in this country.” 

“In that case, I'll be keeping the badge. With all the replacement
technology you possess and your personal penchant for protein, you are 
not leaving here with a sample of my DNA. The last thing I want is to 
be associated with the slogan ‘billions and billions served' on the 
Trid home world.” 

“Kyle Valendar, why would you think such a thing?” 

“During our initial interview, something about the intonation of your
voice when you said ‘I like humans' made me wonder. The later 
discussion about your protein needs made me suspicious. If I made an 
incorrect inference, I apologize.” 

“No need to apologize,” he said as I shut down the computer. I turned
away from the screen just in time to see him mouth the word “damn”. 

“Well, it's about time for the barbecue. I think you should plan to be
satisfied with the ribs.” 

For the remainder of his time on Earth, I would place the emphasis on
the first syllable of his name. 


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