A piercing shriek from the front of the office suite alerted Nipunika Carpano to the new clients' arrival. She waved away the business plan she had been working on, beeped for her partner, and hurried out to greet them, palms perspiring.
Two Cacs'kians dithered at the receptionist's station, immense avian creatures in transparent environment suits. One, white feathered with fierce, glassy red eyes, stood nearly seven feet high, towering over its much shorter buff-colored companion. Nipu noticed that the white alien was breathing quite heavily. Both creatures had fleshy beak-like protuberances dominating their faces. Floating between the two aliens was a spherical guide module supplied by the United Worlds and emblazoned with its logo.
Maureen the receptionist had abandoned her chair and was as flattened against the inner glass wall separating her from the cube farm as it was possible for a woman her size to be. She snapped her head around as Nipu entered the lounge. Vast relief replaced astonished horror on her broad pale face.
Before Nipu could say anything Barry Ehrens, the other half of Ehrens & Carpano Public Relations, appeared at her side. "It's all right, Maureen, they've got an appointment," Barry said, with what Nipu thought enviable sang froid. To the aliens, he said, "Welcome to Ehrens & Carpano! I'm Barry Ehrens, and this is my partner Nipunika Carpano."
The midget, buff-colored alien stepped forward and clucked, sounding so much like a broody hen that Nipu had to purse her lips hard against a burst of hysterical laughter. A dislodged feather or two floated to the floor. "Thanking you, Mr. Ehrens," said the guide module in translation. "Being First Tramontane Nuncio G'erk 15,287 of P'kothian Lineage, West Hemisphere, Pandallian Region."
The tall white Cacs'kian abruptly shouldered Nuncio G'erk aside. Nipu blinked. Standing now directly in front of G'erk and completely blocking him from view, the giant alien barked, "Being Second Tramontane Nuncio H'okgon 2,784,894 of Molowet Lineage, West Hemisphere, Aurutt Region! Allowing addressing as Nuncios G'erk and H'okgon."
"Welcome, gentlemen," said Nipu, bowing slightly. She and Barry ushered the aliens past the panting Maureen and into the further reaches of the office suite. Nipu hoped the aliens were gentlemen; it was impossible to visually distinguish sex among Cacs'kians.
Nuncio H'okgon certainly wasn't acting much like a gentleman, Nipu observed. H'okgon stalked along directly at Barry's side, forcing his small colleague to walk next to Nipunika, behind them.
Their progress toward the conference room was accompanied by muffled exclamations and occasional dull thuds and thumps as various objects slipped out of fingers loosened by amazement. Nipu cringed inwardly at each interruption. Dammit, it wasn't as if she and Barry hadn't warned them.
A series of meetings had prepared their employees for the firm's first off-world clients--or so Nipu had thought at the time. Ehrens & Carpano was a small but aggressive company, trying to secure a toehold in tough economic times. No other PR firm on the planet was willing to sign the pompous, strutting Cacs'kians.
"But we will," Barry had said, striding back and forth at his end of the oak table, ignoring the dubious glances the creatives and account reps were shooting at one another. "We will, and we'll ace the gig." He grinned confidently at his employees. Nipu wished she felt as calm as Barry looked.
They had to ace the gig. If they did not, this company, which she and Barry had founded right out of college, was toast. E&C had too many creditors--including Nipu's father--and too few clients. Ehrens & Carpano was on life support, and the clock was ticking.
Her father, she knew, expected her to fail. He had bankrolled her partnership with Barry solely because he didn't believe that she could actually succeed. And when she failed, she'd either fall completely under his control or else she'd have to strike out utterly on her own, with no support and no money. Frank Carpano never made it easy for anyone, not even his own children.
So when Barry came up with the desperation move of taking on an extraterrestrial client, Nipunika had reluctantly agreed.
Now, as they ushered the Nuncios G'erk and H'okgon into E&C's conference room, Nipu wondered again if the idea really was all that good. Despite their ridiculous appearance the Cacs'kians were more imposing in the flesh than she had expected, even after studying several hours of video footage and stills from the various scientific expeditions that had contacted Cacs'k. She felt claustrophobic about having to be closeted in a small room with them for the next half-hour or so. As the group passed the ladies room, she told Barry she was going to make a quick pit stop. She ducked inside the lav. She examined herself in the mirror. At twenty-nine, Nipu was two years younger than Barry, slender and black-haired with her Indian mother's silky persimmon complexion and big dark eyes, and the straight-ahead pragmatic personality of her Italian father. She had not, however, to her eternal gratitude, inherited his big Roman nose--or his cold demeanor.
By the time she entered the conference room the others were all seated. She took her place at the far end of the oak table, a rather strained smile on her face. No onlooker would have realized that Nipu was the victim of an almost crippling xenophobia: she was utterly terrified of non-terrestrials.
She had never told Barry. Few others in fact knew. Her parents did not. Only her therapist understood the true depth of Nipu's phobia.
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