Lost in Translation

This is it, I think with a steadying breath. The first day of your new job. I try to shake the jitters out of my hands as I open the front door. The building is large and new, and the wheels of my suitcase barely make a sound as they glide on the clean floor. The woman at the front desk looks up from her computer and gives me a pleasant smile.

“You must be Elena?” She asks from the desk, as if I could be anyone else. It was nigh impossible to find this place to begin with, let alone get a job here. It wasn’t exactly the military, or the government, but a job somewhere in between. Located in the depths of New Mexico, my new job took me to a building so far out I was surprised it even existed.

The job of a translator had been offered to me just about five months ago now. That’s how long it took to get ready for this place. Everything had to be in order before I could get here, or so I had been told. Whatever the case, they offered room and board on top of a high paying salary. I thought, how could I not take it?

Turns out the catch was I had to be cut off from the rest of the world for the entire duration of work. Highly classified, they said. Government secrets, they told me. I could manage, this will be worth it.

“Yes, that’s me.” I say with a wry smile. It’s hard not to be a little nervous. Once I go in, there’s no coming out for the next two years. That’s what my contract said anyway, here’s to hoping they don’t keep me any longer. Unless I grow to like the job, I suppose, but I would still appreciate going back into the world at some point.

“Perfect, here’s your room key.” The woman said before handing me a key card not unlike those at a hotel. “You’ll find your new employee package in there. I hope you enjoy your time here, and thank you for joining us.” The woman said cheerily. I smiled before turning to leave.

I had to wonder, what did she get up to all day? It’s not like many people are coming in and out of here. There were two levels of gates just to get onto the base, and supposedly everything is provided for us in here. The other staff buildings are for, well, the other staff. The ones that don’t have to be in here.

Whatever, I guess. I brush it off as I enter the elevator and follow the instructions on the packet holding the key card. There were thirty above ground floors on the building, and at least five below ground that I had access to. I guess that means there’s even more I won’t get to see, meaning thus building had over thirty-five levels to its name. It was the largest building I had ever been in, and I was sure to keep this key card with me wherever I went. The packet it came in had instructions on one side and a mini map on the other. It was very helpful in finding my way to my new room.

I got off the elevator and quickly turned down the hall, navigating my way by the miniature map and the occasional sign at intersections labeling the room numbers. Thankfully, it didn’t take me long to find my room.

I use my card to open up the door and find something like an apartment room in front of me. It’s clean and everything’s been put together neatly. The colors of the walls and furniture are all neutral greys and whites. There’s one small window on the far wall, with a TV and couch in front of it. The curtains are drawn, making it dark enough that I have to turn the lights on.

To the left is a small kitchenette with the basics fit for one person. A small fridge, two burner stove with a small oven, a small microwave, and even a closet that holds a combined washer and dryer. I leave my bag in the living space as I close the door behind me, walking to the bedroom on my right.

The bedroom holds a large twin bed at the back wall with a single dark grey dresser. The bed is made up with a simple stripe pattern comforter and matching pillows and sheets. It’s not the most comfortable look, but at least it’s not a sterile look either. I turn back to the living room, finding a coffee table sitting in between the television and couch. On it is the package the clerk had mentioned.

In the package I find a notebook, two different books on language and translation, a travel coffee cup, and a small stationary set. There’s no wrapping save for the ribbon that holds it all together. Most of it feels impersonal, with all of them including the business’ logo of Earth surrounded by stars. Even the books were published by them, which I found a little odd. I suppose they were the equivalent of a handbook or guide.

What I find most interesting is the smaller book at the very bottom, if you could call it that. The book was very thin, barely two-hundred pages. Not what I would expect for a book titled A Practical Guide to Draconians, Their Language and Culture. I could feel eyebrows scrunch in consternation. Draconians? I knew the job meant working with closed off and rarely heard of cultures, but dragon people? Perhaps I should wait for the job briefing later today, I’m sure that would explain a lot more.

I set the items back down on the coffee table before maneuvering back to my suitcase. It’s large, and in such a small space it feels even larger as I take it into my bedroom. Everything inside has been carefully picked through several times, so by the time I’m able to unload it everything springs free. My clothes had been hastily stuffed back inside each time, my few personal items almost getting lost in the wreckage.

I had been allowed very things to bring. I managed to keep a photo of my and my family, my parents and brother crowding around me on my graduation day. Along with it was the frame, the glass of which unfortunately broke at some point. I had also brought a couple of light novels to read, though I yearned to bring more. Lastly was my little horse figurine, something I’ve had since I was young. It wasn’t a lot, but I was grateful for what I was able to bring. I had nearly finished putting my clothes away when I heard a knock on my door.

“Just a minute!” I called out, shoving the drawer closed and heading to the door of my little apartment. I open in up to find a very stern and grizzled old man standing in front of me. Despite his age, he was exceptionally fit, and his hair was cut short in a military style.

Uh-oh, I think. Perhaps this place is more military than I thought. I swallow hard before speaking.

“Um, hello?” It’s hard not to make it sound like a question. I was not expecting anyone, least of all a towering older man who looked like he wanted to rip my arm off. His face soured even more after I spoke.

“Miss Johnson I presume?” The man asks in a gruff voice. I don’t know what I’ve done to offend him, but I hope that this interaction of ours won’t go on for much longer.

“Yes, that’s me, Miss Elena Johnson.” I clarify. He only looks more upset, his eyebrows coming together and causing a crease in his forehead.

“I was told you’d be ready to work immediately.” Ah, he expected a work horse it would seem.

“I’m sorry,” I say with a shake of my head. “I was told I’d be starting tomorrow, and that I’d be getting a full briefing today.” I make sure to emphasize tomorrow, just to make sure he doesn’t miss that part. He frowns at me, and it’s almost a grimace.

“This is important.” The man states, and I realize he hasn’t yet even bothered to tell me his name. “How soon can you be in that briefing?” He asks me, and I’m tempted to say whenever I was actually scheduled to be there.

“I’m sorry Mister…” I pause to look at his name tag that’s pinned to his dark uniform. “Mister Thomas, but I was supposed to have-” I’m quickly cut off by him.

“This is urgent Miss Johnson, I need you on site immediately.” Well, when he puts it like that. But if I give in now, and it’s not actually that bad, who’s to say he won’t do it again? My indecision must have been apparent because he sighed heavily.

“I don’t think I should have to remind you of your position Miss Johnson,” Mister Thomas begins. “But you are here for a reason. You are paid to be here.” He says this as if I’ve forgotten such a thing. The sign-on bonus alone was enough to pique my interest.

“Alright,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just on-call whenever you want.” I remind him. He might be my boss, maybe, but even so I have standards. He rolls his eyes but moves out of the way to let me through the door. I make sure to have my key card and phone before I leave. The door locks behind me as I follow Mister Thomas down the hall.

“To be clear,” he says as we hurry down the hall towards the elevator. “This is not a job briefing, but a mission briefing.” I give him a quizzical look, but he ignores me and continues. “Most of our translators do the basic day to day work with multiple individuals a day. It’s why we hire polyglots like you,” He gives me a sharp look before continuing. “But you will have something more important to do, on top of your regular duties.” Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good. “You’re expected to work with the hostile race we call the Draconians.” I almost pause when I hear the word race, and not people. “Your mission is to get a truce out of them, by any means necessary. That is,” he turns to face me at the elevator door. “So long as it’s something I approve of. I will be present for all negotiations.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Maybe we should back up a few steps. Draconians? Negotiations?” It’s all a bit much, I barely even got here after all. Mister Thomas sighs as if I’m being slow.

“We’re not working with humans, Miss Johnson.” He says slowly. “We’re working with aliens.” I blink, opening my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. What do I even say to that? My mind reels with the new knowledge.

“I’m sorry, you mean, like little grey men?” I ask almost incredulously. The elevator dings behind us, and I’m ushered inside.

“Yes and no.” Mister Thomas replies. “Didn’t they give you a book or something?” He looks down on me, pressing the button for one of the middle levels of the building. There is more than a little frustration in his tone. According to my key card, it was one of the levels that held things like large meeting rooms or some sort. I wasn’t really paying attention to that right now.

“Well, I mean, I got a book on these… Draconians.” I explain, looking squarely at the elevator doors. “But I’ve only just got here.” I can feel my face scrunch up in confusion. “I have no idea about any of this- Aliens? Really?” I whip around to face Mr. Thomas, who has resumed his grouchy expression from earlier. In fact, I don’t think it ever really left.

“Yes, Miss Johnson, really.” He was so over this, as if I should have been more prepared or something. But how was I to know? I mean, the job offer said nothing about extraterrestrial beings. It specifically said other cultures, as if I would be just a regular translator or ambassador, not an interstellar communicator.

Before I could ask any more questions, the elevator stopped. The doors opened just a heartbeat later, and Mister Thomas was quickly making his way out. I had to hurry to catch up to him, and he made no effort to slow down for me. I was on the shorter end of average height, and he was most definitely on the taller end. His longer strides made it hard to keep up as he deftly navigated the plain looking halls, passing numerous rooms without a second glance.

“Where are we headed?” I asked, the silence beginning to wear on my nerves.

“A conference room.” Mister Thomas replied flatly. I was under the impression that most if not all of these rooms had been conference rooms. Why choose one so far in the building? I decided not to voice this question, as I valued my life at the moment. I had a feeling that the patience of Mister Thomas was beginning to wear thing. Instead I followed him quietly, my mind working through the new yet limited information I had.

This place was almost certainly a military base. Mister Thomas is likely my boss or direct supervisor. My job is to be a translator to negotiate a truce with aliens. None of this was on the job offer or my contract, and yet here I was stuck with it. Perhaps I should have asked for a copy of that contract, just so I could wave it around and say something about how that’s not my job or something. But I was here now, and I imagine it would be very difficult to leave.

Eventually Mister Thomas came to an abrupt halt at one of the doors, and I nearly crashed into him. He gave me a stern look, putting his hand on the door handle before pausing there.

“Obviously I can’t expect you to make any negotiations today,” he begins to say. “But I do expect you to make a good impression.” He gives me a hard look, and my bad feeling goes to a worse feeling. “We have a lot riding on this, and your ability to form a good relationship with him, so don’t fuck it up.” He gritted his teeth when he spoke, and practically snarled at me by doing so. I swallowed nervously but nodded. It seemed to be enough because he opened the door and walked in. I quickly followed him, but stopped dead at the door when I saw what was in there.

I had expected the usual, run of the mill, meeting room. Something that was either too cold or too warm with a long table and chairs, accented by bare walls and neutral colors. Only some of that was true for this room. The walls were a sort of gentle mint green color, and the room was both warm and humid. It felt like a lizard tank, which was likely intentional. The lack of backs on the chairs was also intentional. Instead they were just the cups of the seat, holding a slight curve with cushions for comfort. What I saw at the other end of the table explained why they looked like that.

What sat on the other end of the table were two humanoid creatures, if humans had the heads or raptors with horns like a dragon. I suppose that’s why they’ve been dubbed Draconians. And neither of them looked happy.