He couldn’t, but Carol could. “They betrayed you first,” she said, and she’s right. Monica is constantly aware of that now, since nowadays her hands are always tingling. The superpowers aren’t very strong yet, and Carol and Director May are the only people still alive who know about them, but that’ll change once she seriously starts using them. Her mother and husband, God rest their souls, both had long conversations with her about how sooner or later, this was going to change all of their lives completely. Of course, that had assumed nothing else would change everything first.
Carol also said she’d make sure they knew Monica was coming, though she didn’t say how. It seems they can detect her despite the cloak, too, because when she’s just about at the Wakandan border, her radio crackles on, and a voice addressing her as “American fighter plane” demands she identify herself. When she gives her name, they direct her to land in an open field between the huts, there to wait for a greeting party.
She’s also gotten to look at photos of people likely to greet her. “The Queen will want to,” Carol told her, “but they probably won’t let her, not that first time. You’re more likely to meet the head of the Dora Milaje.”
It is indeed Okoye who leads what are clearly representatives of the other five tribes, all on top of what definitely aren’t normal rhinos, given the better eyesight alone they must have. She dismounts first, right in front of her, and commands, “Hold your right palm out.” When Monica does so, she places the beads on her wrist above it, and a moment later they project a photo of her into thin air. “Lieutenant Colonel Monica Rambeau,” she says, clearly in confirmation. Monica wonders where they got her DNA, if they used that. “You have information for us.”
Monica nods, and pulls a flash drive from her pocket. “I have data gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and by Stark Industries. Although even the latter has not made this public, both have separately gone into space in recent months, and left behind buoys for the gathering of information.” She sees the tribal representatives exchange startled glances; they clearly did not expect that out of the less technologically advanced outside world. “And while neither organization has enough data to determine this on their own yet, combined, certain pieces of it will provide both a rough estimated time of arrival and the right signal frequencies to contact a certain people who have been trying to get to Earth for some time.”
She gives an explanation about the Asgardians then, as much as she knows. When she finishes, Okoye asks, “And you want us to contact them?” Her voice is carefully neutral. “You want us to bring them here, to Wakanda?”
Monica’s rehearsed what she would say here multiple times. “You must realize what would happen if they tried to land in most countries. These are an extremely powerful people bearing technology advanced beyond what most of Earth has, but there are probably only two of them left alive now who really know how to defend themselves; Thanos made that clear. It would be easy for my government, or many of the other world’s government, to separate them from each other and from their protectors, and then what do you think would happen to them?
And if you really don’t care about that, what do you then think would happen to their technology, whose hands it would fall into? You might find yourselves invaded again, and lacking the huge advantage you had last time.”
That’s having an effect; she can see it on everyone except Okoye. She continues, “If you’re worried about having to provide asylum, I don’t think you’d have to do that permanently. From what I’ve heard of them, the Asgardians might even be too proud to let you. But they need a place to land safely, to learn the truth about what’s going on here on Earth, to meet up with their King-remember his trying to come to certain countries could also cause trouble noone needs, and to decide what to do from there.”
She thinks she might be convincing them. The only one who still looks outright skeptical is the one she’s identified as M’Baku, who’ll probably remain against it anyway. “You have not told your own government about this,” he asks, “have you?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard what they’ve been doing,” she sighs, “and they will soon turn on me anyway.” And she sends a small blast into the grass, weak as she can make it.
That, unfortunately, makes the representatives look more wary. Except the one Monica recognizes as Nakia, who asks softly, “Do you yourself need help?”
“No,” Monica’s quick to say. “I’ll be all right.” May’s already promised to protect her, and she’s sure she would even if she found out about this, though she might also penalize her for it heavily. Monica doesn’t think she’d protest if she did.
That they wouldn’t have to take her in probably relaxes the entire party. Though Okoye just says, “We will analyze your data, and I think it likely the Queen will decide to be of aid to these people, but we make no promises.”
That’s about as good an outcome of this meeting as Monica hoped for. “Thank you,” she says. “It has been an honor to meet you, and I shall be glad if we ever meet again.” She genuinely means it, and she’s glad that, as she replies in a similar matter, she thinks she can see a hint of a smile on Okoye’s face.