The Plant Pt. 06 - Ambassador

"As you know, he comes from a long line of diplomats," Margaret said. "It's in his DNA, so to speak."

"Yes, as he constantly reminds me every chance he gets," Theresa quipped. "Tell him." she began, her mind deep in thought. "Tell him that Her Majesty, the Queen Mother of Earth has graciously accepted his request for an audience and expects him to report to her office at 11:05 am. Precisely." Margaret snickered at that. "Got that?"

"I got it," Margaret said trying to stifle a laugh. "11:05 am, right?"

"That's right. 11:05. Not 11:06 or 11:04. 11:05. On the dot. Otherwise, I might be occupied with something else."

"As you wish, my Queen," Margaret said. Her hands flew over her keyboard. When she was finished, she looked at Theresa. "There. Done."

"Thank you, Margaret. Now if you don't mind, I'll retreat into my office. Oh, have we heard anything from New York?"

"Not yet, but I expect to hear from them today."

"Thank you, Margaret," Theresa said before going into her office.

...

Tsod looked at his human body in the full-length mirror and took in what he saw. He had to admit, these backwater humans did a pretty good job of encapsulating the real "man," as it were. At six foot, eight inches, he towered over the average human male. Weighing in at a muscular 240 pounds, he could easily intimidate most men.

His face could only be described as chiseled and his body was picture-perfect. Broad in the shoulders, narrow in the hips, something humans called a "six-pack" and well-defined muscles in his legs and arms.

Topping all that off was a penis that measured ten inches, soft. At first, he never understood how human males could go through life with only one penis. But now he knew. First hand.

Yes, these humans knew how to craft a body, he thought to himself. Human females would probably go nuts over this, he thought. But those ten inches were reserved for one female only, as the green mark on his upper left chest indicated.

He reached down and picked up the barbell on the floor next to his feet. According to the markings on the weights, 200 pounds of solid iron were attached to the short iron bar. He easily curled it a few times and watched his muscles ripple in the mirror. He switched the barbell to his left hand and did the same.

"Admiring yourself again, are you, Tsod?" a female voice asked. He dropped the barbell and turned to see an equally nude female admiring his body. This female was none other than his mate for life, Tamsin. He took in her nude form and his penis began to grow and get hard. She walked to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Mate with me, my husband," she cooed as she pressed her breasts into his body. "Feed me."

"As you wish, my love," he said, taking her in his arms. Just as he put her on the bed, his communication device beeped. Annoyed at the distraction, he looked at the message. He nodded his head and turned to Tamsin.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"The queen," he said derisively. "She wants me to report to her office at 11:05 sharp."

"That gives us just enough time, then," she said. "What is it the humans say? Fuck me?"

"I believe it is," he said.

"Then, FUCK ME!" she declared, wrapping her legs around his body.

...

Tsod, now showered and dressed in an expensive tailored suit, stood in front of Theresa's office door as he monitored the time on his wrist watch. He knew the queen's penchant for punctuality and wanted to enter just as the clock said 11:05.

When his watch read 11:04:55, he looked at the receptionist who nodded her head. He opened the door to find the queen, completely naked, riding one of her consort's 12 cocks reverse cowgirl-style as she sucked on another. She pointed to a chair in the room and indicated that he should sit.

He obeyed and watched as she fucked herself to orgasm. Her consort ejaculated in her pussy and her mouth at the same time. She eagerly swallowed his fluid, wiping her mouth after she was finished. She stepped up and wiped her hands as she walked toward him.

"Good morning, Ambassador Tsod," she said, holding out a hand. He looked at it askance, causing her to cock her head. "What's the matter, Ambassador? Have you forgotten your manners?"

"Of course not, my Queen," he said, taking a knee in front of her. He gingerly took her hand and kissed it lightly, trying to avoid the areas wet from her consort's ejaculate. She smiled as he released her hand and motioned for him to stand.

"My apologies, Ambassador," she said. "It is not my wish to embarrass you. If that were the case, we'd have an audience here. I'm simply trying to behave as you suggested. As you may recall, it was you who suggested I act in a more regal, stand-offish manner, even though it does not suit my personality. And I did wipe my hand before I presented it to you."

"Yes, Your Majesty, you did," he said somewhat sheepishly. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

"Your apology is accepted, Ambassador," she said. "Is everything alright? Is your human form acceptable to you?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, it is much more than I had hoped for," he said.

"And your mate, Tamsin? Is her form acceptable to the two of you?"

"Very much so, Your Majesty," he said, recalling their most recent tryst.

"Just so you know, I can still smell her on you," Theresa said. "For future reference, it would be good to cleanse ALL of your body before meeting others."

"My apologies, Your Majesty," he said sheepishly.

"Accepted. Now, what was it you wished to see me about?"

"I was curious to know what security measures are being put in place for me and my team," he said. "As you know, I am the Emperor's direct representative to the United Nations, and I would hate for him to learn that one of his diplomats have been injured because of human immaturity, incompetence or insecurity."

"Let's get one thing straight, Ambassador," she said. "I understand you are the Emperor's direct representative to the U.N. You must also understand that I too, serve at the Emperor's pleasure as his highest executive on this planet. Which means that as long as you are on this planet, you answer to me. If you have a problem with any of that, you are free to take it to the Emperor. Through me."

She pulled a sheet of paper out of a folder and placed it on her desk. "Surely you got the memo," she added. He said nothing for a few moments, then smiled.

"The Emperor speaks very highly of you," he said. "I see why. You have grown into your role quite well. Perhaps I underestimated you. It will not happen again." She nodded her head.

"I certainly hope not, Ambassador," she said. "As to your concerns about security, let me put your mind at ease. New South Marsookia is quite secure. Measures have been put into place to keep it hidden from prying eyes. In addition, the latest shielding technology has been put in place to protect the island. And you will be surrounded by a force of some 5,000 well-armed and trained soldiers and security personnel, all of which have been designed from conception for their roles."

"I am impressed," Tsod said. "Are these soldiers human or Gingravik hybrid?"

"They are all hybrid, in human form," she said. "Like you. In fact, the technology that made your integration successful is the same that produced them."

"If I may ask, how did you manage to accumulate so many in such a short period of time?" he asked.

"Our designated field breeders have done a remarkable job of producing fertilized eggs over the last couple years. Thanks to our scientific research here, we were able to significantly enhance their development while infusing them with the necessary skills," she said. "Along with their complete loyalty to the cause. You could say it's in their DNA."

"I see," he said. "And the breeders? Are they still in the field?"

"Many of them are, however, we have been forced to scale their operations a bit due to the pandemic. It's possible we may have to end that part of the program after the summit."

"And what of this facility? I'm sure you understand that once the summit is complete, this place will quite likely come under intense scrutiny."

"I have already considered that, Ambassador," she said. "Which is why we are in the process of transitioning this base to NSM. Over half of it has already been moved, and the rest will be gone by the time the summit happens."

"And if I may ask, what about your human employees? Will they make the move as well?"

"So far, every single one has expressed a desire to make the move," she said. "No one has rejected the offer."

"A testament to your leadership, Your Majesty," he said.

"Thank you, but it's really quite simple. Treat people with respect and dignity and they generally reward you with their loyalty," she said. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes. Have you heard anything from the United Nations?"

"Not yet," she said. "But I hope to hear something very soon. The minute I hear from them, you'll be informed."

"Very well," he said. "Thank you for your time, Your Majesty."

"You're welcome, Ambassador," she said. He stood and turned to leave, then remembered where he was and turned back to Theresa.

"Please forgive me, Your Majesty," he said. "By your leave." She smiled and nodded her head.

"Of course, Ambassador. And may I say that you look quite dapper in that suit. Italian?"

"I was told it was made by someone named Armani," he said.

"It looks very nice on you, Ambassador. Just one suggestion, though."

"What's that, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"Your shoes. They're on the wrong feet," she said, pointing down. He looked where she pointed and realized what she was talking about. Red-faced, he looked back at her.

"I wondered why they were so uncomfortable," he said. There's more to being a human male than I originally thought, he said to himself.

"Live and learn, Ambassador," she said. "Good day."

"Your Majesty," he said with a slight bow. Theresa and Bernie watched as he turned and walked back through the door. When she felt he was far enough away, she began chuckling audibly.

"Be nice, my queen," Bernie said quietly. "He's still learning to be human."

"I know, but it's just so... funny. I hope he figures out the difference between his right foot and his left foot before he meets with the delegation from the U.N."

"I'm sure he will," Bernie said.

...

The Secretary-General of the United Nations sat in his office on the 38^th floor of the Secretariat Building and looked out the large windows at the East River and the boroughs of Queens and Brooklyn as he pondered the strange communique that had been hand-delivered to his office three days earlier.

According to the message, an ambassador from the emperor of something called the Interstellar Gingravik Consortium wished to meet with him and a small team of diplomats at a location to be announced in the future. His first thought was this had to be a joke. For starters, there was no such thing as "Gingravik" and the notion of anything being "interstellar" was laughable.

He looked at the envelope containing the strange message and saw it had no postmark or return address. On top of that, the routing stamp looked quite normal. Perhaps this was someone's idea of a joke. He promised to find the person responsible and fire them personally. But when he asked around, no one seemed to know anything about the letter. It was simply there, along with the rest of the correspondence addressed to him personally.

His first instinct was to throw the letter in the trash. He reconsidered after a while and gave it some thought. If it was a joke, he wasn't amused, but he wasn't about to give anyone ammunition to spread rumors. And he certainly wasn't going to let himself be the butt of laughter behind his back.

He thought about involving security, but rejected that idea, concerned it could be the catalyst for said laughter and jokes. If he simply shredded the document and ignored it, no one would ever know of its existence, he reasoned. But...

What if this was real? There had been a rash of reports of UFO sightings and strange encounters from very credible witnesses lately -- far more than had been publicly reported. If this was real, then he would go down in history as the man who made first official contact with an alien race. Take that, Mr. President, he thought to himself, referring to the current occupant of the White House. He picked up his phone and dialed the toll-free number mentioned in the letter.

...

Margaret sat at her desk going over all her work. Another group of employees was set to fly out today, along with more equipment. Some were going to NSM, while others were headed for other satellite facilities. After all her work making this place a reality, she hated the thought of seeing it torn down and moved.

But, she thought, it was inevitable. She had hoped they could stay here at least another couple years, but that just wasn't in the cards. With everything going on, she half-way expected to see columns of vehicles filled with armed federal agents and soldiers coming down the road.

But now... She didn't know what to expect anymore. As she thought about this, her switchboard sounded off and she saw the light corresponding to the line set aside for only one purpose flash brightly. Was this really him, she asked herself. She pulled up her script, put on her headset and answered the call.

...

The Secretary-General sat stunned after making the call. Yes, the woman on the other end assured him. This is very real. And yes, the ambassador was very serious about making contact. She assured him the ambassador would contact him in exactly 30 minutes to introduce himself. He gave her the number to his direct line and ended the call.

He instructed his receptionist to hold all calls and visits until further notice and waited. The next 30 minutes seemed like hours, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang exactly 30 minutes later. The call came from an unlisted private number. He pressed a button on the phone to start a trace, then answered the call, somewhat nervous.

"Marco Gutierrez," he said when he picked up the phone.

"Secretary-General Gutierrez?" a deep baritone voice asked at the other end.

"This is he," Marco said. "And with whom am I speaking?"

"I am Ambassador Tsod, representing His Highness, the Emperor of the Interstellar Gingravik Consortium. I trust this conversation is being kept confidential?"

"It is, just as your associate requested, Ambassador Zod," Marco said.

"That's 'Tsod,' Mr. Secretary-General," the man on the other end said.

"My apologies, Ambassador," Marco said. "May I ask how you got your initial communique to my office?"

"You may ask, Mr. Secretary-General," Tsod said. "Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to explain. I'm sure you understand."

"Vaguely," Marco said. "I sincerely hope this isn't some kind of practical joke, Mr. Ambassador. Rest assured, if it is, there will be legal consequences."

"I understand your concern, Mr. Secretary-General," Tsod said. "Let me assure you in no uncertain terms. I am not a man given to what you call practical jokes. I am here to present myself and my team to you and your delegation. I would like to meet with you sometime very soon. Perhaps within the next month or two."

"Will you be in New York sometime soon?" Marco asked.

"No. I have no plans to visit your New York. I would insist that you and your delegates meet me and mine at a secure location of my choosing. I guarantee your safety and promise to prove our origin at that time," Tsod said.

"What is it you seek from us, Ambassador?" Marco said.

"Mutual understanding. Perhaps even the beginning of a friendship between our two peoples."

"I have many questions," Marco said.

"And I will attempt to answer them to your satisfaction," Tsod said.

"You're not here to... exterminate or disintegrate us, are you?" Marco asked, feeling a bit silly after asking the question. Tsod chuckled at the question.

"Of course not, Mr. Secretary-General," he said. "Perhaps you have watched too many of your motion pictures."

"Perhaps," Marco said with a chuckle. "Looking at my calendar, perhaps we can meet on the weekend of November 19. Will that work for you, Ambassador?"

"Yes, that will work for me," Tsod said after a few moments. "I will contact you at this number on November 17 with your itinerary, if you wish. Plan on my call to come in at 3:15 pm your time. I will provide the accommodations and make the travel arrangements for you. No press is to be involved whatsoever. You may bring a small security detail if you wish, but I ask that you limit your delegation to no more than 10 individuals. If anyone asks, you and your delegation are simply taking a weekend retreat to discuss issues. Is this acceptable to you, Mr. Secretary-General?"

"That is acceptable to me, Ambassador," Marco said. "I look forward to hearing from you."

"And I look forward to speaking with you again, Mr. Secretary General," Tsod said. "Oh, and one last thing."

"What's that, Ambassador?" Marco asked.

"Your trace will not work," Tsod said, leaving Marco feeling a bit embarrassed.

"How," Marco began before Tsod interrupted him.

"How did I know you were trying to trace this call?" Tsod asked. "Because, it is what I would do in your place. Good day, Mr. Secretary-General. I'll be in touch." Marco found himself staring at the handset when the call ended. He replaced the handset and pressed another button to see what the trace found, and saw only a message that the attempt had failed.

"Damn," he said under his breath. He took a quick bathroom break, then sat back down at his desk and started making calls.

...

"That went well," Theresa said when Tsod ended the call. He looked at her and Margaret before speaking.

"Yes, it did. Better than I had hoped. Still, I have concerns. We have a lot to do, Your Majesty. I will confer with my colleagues to firm up our agenda. I take it you will be at the meeting as well?"

"I will," she said. "We can discuss that later. Right now, we need to double down and get the rest of the facility moved. Margaret, I'll leave that in your capable hands."

"Yes, my queen," she said.

"I have an idea I'd like to run by you, Your Majesty," Tsod said, glancing at Bernie. "Perhaps we can discuss it in private."

"I have no secrets from anyone in this room," Theresa said.

"Very well. At some point, the UN delegation will want to meet a native Gingravik. Preferably someone with some clout, maybe even a title. It would give us more credibility in their eyes," he said.

"Bernie is a native Gingravik," Theresa said. "He was made my official consort before we became permanent mates. Is that not enough?"

"For you and I, yes. I have an idea, though. I'll need to speak with the Emperor first, with your permission, of course, Your Majesty." Theresa had a good idea what he intended and it made sense to her. Bernie had given his entire life for her and the Gingravik cause. If anyone deserved to be honored, it was him. She nodded her head.

"You have my permission, Ambassador," she said softly.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. And if I may, there's one other subject I'd like to address."

"Yes?" she asked.

"You have a lot of... shall we say, non-essential native human personnel here. Maintenance workers and the like. Do you intend to invite them to NSM as well?" he asked. "If these negotiations are successful, and I expect they will be, the possible consequences to them -- that is, of choosing the Empire over their native country -- could be enormous."

Theresa regarded him for a moment before speaking. Deep down, she knew he was right. As far as the authorities would be concerned, those people could be seen as traitors to their country if the worst happened.