“We obviously had to quickly narrow our search, so these are the criteria we used: First: Caucasian male between the ages of twenty to thirty-five. Caucasian refers to a pale, whitish colored skin. In the U.S., a significant majority of the population are Caucasians. Of more importance, there is significant discrimination against people of other skin colors. In general, the darker the skin, the greater the discrimination. This discrimination against dark skin is even more pronounced in the area of the country you are going. There was no reason to place you at such an inherent disadvantage. You could make a completely innocent comment or gesture and run into problems with the authorities just because of your skin color.”
Fortunately, we’ve progressed past that, thought Hoken, but not as much as many in our society would like to think.
“Second,” continued Gunnerr, “we restricted our search geographically to people who live within a fifty kilometer radius of the city where you’ll ambush Rennedee.
“Lastly, we searched only for those with a military history. In the U.S. there is currently a military draft. Only a few males are forced into compulsory service, but all males between the ages of eighteen, the age that most complete high school, and twenty-five, must register their eligibility.”
That made Hoken wince. Compulsory service? But he was especially appalled by the sex discrimination. The females got a free ride while the men made all of the sacrifices. On Oria, the military men were paid well, and were honored members of society. Even in war, no one was forced to bear arms. If you didn’t volunteer, however, it was a stain against your character that could never be erased. It was difficult to succeed in subsequent civilian life if you avoided military service in time of need.
Gunnerr said, after a short pause, “This was a real advantage for us because the military records were by far our best source of information. Military service also meant they had weapons training.”
Hoken finished his vegetable bar and washed it down with the last swig of water.
“These initial criteria gave us 237 names. When we added a history of behavioral or psychiatric problems, his name easily was at the top of the list. It was immediately so clear he would be your perfect cover that we stopped looking. There was no reason to check on anyone else. We have since concentrated all of our efforts on gaining every possible piece of information on him that we can.”
Hoken looked at the pictures and was almost immediately disgusted. It was clear even to an extraterrestrial, a man from another part of the galaxy, from more than 200 trillion kilometers away, that the human whose body he would possess was physically unattractive. But even more striking than his physical features was a general impression that conveyed an obvious lack of integrity, of something almost sinister or even malevolent. Humans from different cultures, races and ethnic groups usually agree on what represents beauty. There are pretty birds, and ugly birds, pretty dogs and ugly dogs. To borrow an expression from Earth: Human #1 was butt-ugly, like he had been beaten with an ugly stick after walking through a forest of ugly sticks.
People can look at a picture and instantly recognize the face of happiness, sorrow, grief or disgust. The man whose image was displayed on the screen was clearly one of the lowest representatives of humanity. Although Hoken could just shake his head, he had to admit that the Orian military had clearly chosen his cover very well.
Hoken continued to stare at the images. The earlier pictures, the passport photo and military pictures from his late teens, showed a well-groomed young man, of average to aesthetic build, not muscular; but he appeared fit enough, with wide shoulders and a flat stomach. In the more recent images, although only a few years had passed, he had a base, almost disheveled, appearance. The beady eyes reminded Hoken of the flattl, the most vicious and rightly feared snake on Oria, a serpent that could grow to five meters or more, which preferentially avoided the strong to take the young and plump and tender as its victims. The drooping eyelids and somewhat small, low-set ears, further highlighted #1’s seedy appearance.
But what really caught Hoken’s attention was the mouth. Especially the mouth. The thin, slightly pursed lips caused the corners of the mouth to turn slightly downward, almost like a continuous scowl. When Hoken tilted his head one way and then the other, he was sure that sometimes it made the look on #1’s face appear more like a smirk than a scowl. The pursed lips caused an almost dimple-like appearance around the corners of the mouth. With his chin held firmly down and pointy, it looked like the perfect embouchure of a good clarinet player, only without the clarinet.
Hoken shook his head. He wanted to say, What have I gotten myself into? But almost as quickly, he decided to just let it ride and was back to the task at hand—namely, the mission, which was how to kill Rennedee.
Hoken worked on holding his lips exactly like that, so it would eventually be automatic. But however much he tried to interpret the man behind the pictures, it never suggested anything pleasant, happy, care-free, generous, intelligent, or trustworthy. It was clear that Human #1 was not just physically ugly but also emotionally ugly.
“From the available information we’ve been able to construct a 3-D image of him,” continued Gunnerr. The other pictures were minimized to one-half size to make room for the 3-D reconstruction. The image was rotated through 360°, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. Then he was seen from above, showing the top of his head. Hoken quickly noticed the hair pattern, which would be very atypical for an Orian but which was not uncommon for a human male. His brownish, slightly wavy hair showed a minimal receding in the area around the temples, resulting in an almost isolated island of hair at the front, top, and center of the forehead.
Hoken had seen enough of Human #1 for a while. He began to look over the data files, starting at the reader’s left and moving to the right (Orian was similar to most Earth languages: read from left to right, and top to bottom. Even maps were displayed the same, north on top and east to the right. It seems that the same general algorithms and brain hard-wiring for basic intelligence and processing of information are fairly similar throughout the Universe.) Everything was displayed in both English and Orian; the former so he would be learning the new language, and the latter so there was no misinterpretation.
“Human #1 was born in the city of New Orleans, in the state, similar to our provinces, of Louisiana,” said Gunnerr. “We have no pictures of his family. It’s very unlikely you’ll meet any of these people, but if you’re questioned by acquaintances, or especially by the authorities, you obviously have to know some details about your family,” he said as if Hoken had already taken over the body of the Earthman.
“His father’s name was Robert. His mother, Marguerite, worked as a practical nurse. He has a brother, also named Robert, and a half-brother, John.
“His father collected insurance premiums, and from everything we’ve found so far, was a hard working man. Unfortunately, he died two months before Human #1 was born, causing a permanent strain on the family’s finances. As a result, Human #1’s handling of money went far beyond frugality, even far beyond cheap, to the point that he won’t even spend money to provide basic food and shelter for his wife and children. His wife is often forced to live off the kindness of others—to mooch. Sometimes she’s even reduced to begging to keep their children fed and clothed.”
Hoken just shook his head. How pathetic. This man is scum. After hearing that Hoken would never underestimate the man’s vileness. Whenever Hoken saw something like this, it just made him appreciate that much more the great family he was blessed to have.
“His mother’s financial problems sometimes became almost desperate,” continued Gunnerr. “For a