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Xirminator -> Science Fiction Stories (6/11/2009 15:22:10)
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I've been focusing solely on writing this last few days. If anyone's been paying attention, I haven't been commenting at all. Recently, I'm dabbling in science-fiction, and this is one of the stories I came up with.
Comments, criticism, compliments and anything else goes HERE.
One Little Lie
“Sir, leaving hyperspace; we‘re entering the Human Enclaves now.”
“Prepare defensive systems – just in case,” Riltvak said.
“Yes, Captain,” the first-mate said, turning to the screen in front of him. Riltvak had travelled through the whole Galaxy with this crew and this ship, finding new worlds, fighting pirates, bringing wealth and fame to his home planet; he knew his crewmen well enough to sense their nervousness. They didn’t expect him to be worried like them - he was Captain Riltvak, after all - so they did not share their mutters with him, and that made him feel a little left out. He didn’t hold it against them. He wasn’t about to admit it, but he felt as nervous as they looked. Entering the Human Enclaves was a risky business. He had the backing of the United Worlds behind him and the Founder himself onboard, but still… suppose the humans didn’t like it? Having the Founder onboard wasn’t going to magically stop the missiles when they fired them.
Not that anything could, really. The human race was one of the oldest races in the Galaxy. When Riltvak’s race had been young and primitive, the humans had already been nurturing blobs of unintelligent life into civilizations and turning fiery worlds into blooming paradises. Ancient history spoke of their mysterious technology, their ingenuity, their determination to survive whatever the Galaxy threw at them. Sometimes, he wondered if the humans had created his homeworld, Lisindra, and whether they were behind all those ruins the gods had supposedly left behind.
Riltvak suddenly felt something change in the control room. It was a subtle shift in the positions of his crewmen, all of them suddenly sitting straighter in the chairs and all the muttering coming to a sudden end. He knew what that shift meant; it happened every time the Founder entered the control room.
He didn’t remember when he had started calling Olmand ‘Founder’. It was probably about the time Olmand had become so involved in politics that he had forgotten his family and friends, when all that mattered to him was the next move in the endless game. The cold, harsh Founder clashed horribly with the boy-Olmand of Riltvak’s memories. One was spattered and grinning after their mud wrestling; at Riltvak’s side in every fight and bursting with childish dreams. The other was the Founder of the United World Organizations, a straight, severe figure, robed in splendour and one of the foremost political powers in the Galaxy. The boyish fancies he had as a child had all been replaced by the single desire to unite all civilizations in the Galaxy.
A commendable goal, Riltvak thought. The Founder had done well. There were no wars within the United Worlds, trade had boomed, people toasted the Founder and called him Peacemonger. There was only one failure in his career, only one stain on his reputation. He could not convince the humans of Earth to join the United Worlds.
That hadn’t surprised anyone when it happened. The humans were reclusive, after all. They did not trade with anyone, or involve themselves in the political issues of the galaxy. Sometimes, one of their sleek, black, featureless ships would pass almost unnoticed through other star systems, on some enigmatic mission of their own. All attempts at communicating with them about these intrusions went unheeded, threats were ignored, and whoever was stupid enough to direct action against them often found them vanishing from all radars.
The United Worlds, directed by the Founder, had to go so far as to approach their home system repeatedly, at great risk, to extend their invitations, but always, they had been turned back by the silent ships of the humans. The Founder had grown more and more impatient over the years, until finally, threats had started to accompany his invitations. The humans became somewhat of an obsession to him. Riltvak knew that his intents were altruist at heart; if the humans joined the United Worlds and shared their technology and knowledge with the other races, the Galaxy would be transformed.
Now, the Founder had come to deliver an ultimatum. Perhaps he would have done something else had he not been pressured by the leaders of the United Worlds, whose reasons for seeing the humans in an alliance with them might not have been completely selfless.
“Founder,” Riltvak said. Riltvak was not a military man, but he saluted to the Founder nevertheless. He couldn’t think of anything to do that would be appropriate around this man, except for formalities. The boy had completely vanished from him, leaving only the cold, taciturn mind of pure authority. The Founder had long stopped trying convincing Riltvak to call him Olmand. Riltvak wasn’t sure whether it was because he had simply grown tired of trying or whether he did not care anymore.
“Riltvak.” The acknowledgement was curt, as usual. The Founder did not even look at him. “How much longer?”
“We’ve entered the Enclaves just now.” He touched the screen in front of him and brought up an image of the ninth planet and the moon orbiting it, which was a few million miles ahead of the Daystar. “I expect they will contact us as soon as we‘re close enough to their outpost.”
“Good, good.”
Riltvak stood uncomfortably, but no more words were forthcoming. The silence was broken by a sudden hiss of static as the communicator lit up. He snapped up to attention as a computerized voice said, “This is control from Nine. Please identify yourselves.”
“Daystar here,” said Captain Riltvak immediately. “Escorting Founder Olmand of the United Worlds to Earth.”
“A moment please,” the voice said. The communicator was silent for a while, then. “Understood, you may proceed. We will be sending a ship to escort you; please do not be alarmed.” The communicator flashed off.
“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Riltvak said dryly. “How come they’re letting us pass?”
“They must have heard about the ultimatum I intend to deliver,” the Founder said. “Obviously, we have not been secretive about that. It is not something they can ignore.”
Riltvak lowered his voice, to keep his first-mate from listening. “We’ll see how they take it when you actually deliver it.”
“I am confident that they will be cooperative,” the Founder replied calmly. “Why would they let us in, if they do not fear the might arrayed against them? The humans cannot defeat the entire Galaxy.”
“What if they refuse again?”
“They will not.”
“But what if-”
“Then we will have to act according to the terms we will have stated.”
Riltvak ground his teeth together as he worked to keep his expression calm. The humans weren’t doing any harm, were they? Who cared if they didn’t want to join? Surely there were better options than war?
The Founder looked at him. “Remember the Oath, Captain. You are here as a neutral observer. You will report exactly what transpires, and you will not interfere. The only reason you are here is because the public has faith in you.”
“I would never break the Oath,” Riltvak said, feeling anger rising inside him. “I know what I’m here to do. I just want you to think about the people that will die for you and your United Worlds, just because you politicians are afraid of them. Fact is, you don‘t know anything about them.”
“One way or another, we will find out everything about them, Riltvak. Your feelings about the whole matter are irrelevant.”
“Founder, I–”
“Do you understand?” The Founder’s tail had risen slightly, and the scales around his neck protruded outwards. Riltvak recognized the signs of anger found in every Lisindran, but he couldn’t let it go.
“Olmand–”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
Riltvak turned his back on the Founder and fixed his eyes on the screen, anger burning away in his chest. Argument was hopeless with these arrogant, unmoving politicians. Olmand had melted away, leaving behind a mere shadow of himself, a rigid, unswerving shadow. To think that he would no longer care that they had been brood mates, growing together, consulting each other about everything they did and wanted to do. It made Riltvak furious to think about the change in his childhood friend. Those years they had spent apart had changed everything, and the Founder’s uncaring attitude towards their memories felt like betrayal. He hoped that this stone-faced politician would burn, then felt guilty for thinking that.
The miles were flying away in millions as the ship’s drive blasted them through space, bending space around them, and the third planet was drawing closer. With a touch, he zoomed into the image, and was suddenly startled by how similar it looked to Lisindra. The expansive blue oceans covered most of the planet, the rest made up of green landmasses. Just like home, thought Riltvak. Except for the moon. Lisindra had no moon; its nights were dark.
As the image zoomed further, he saw many glittering domes littering the surface of the landmasses. They were of varying sizes, but all of them were huge. The largest of them encompassed whole mountain ranges.
“What in the name of the Galaxy are those?” his first-mate asked
Riltvak shrugged. “If things go well, we might know soon enough.” He was aware of the Founder watching unobtrusively over his shoulder.
The communicator hissed to life again. ”Daystar, this is Earth. Please respond.”
“We’re hearing you loud and clear,” Riltvak said.
“A ship is about to intercept you. Please do not be alarmed. It will lead you to landing bays on Earth.”
The moment the voice disconnected, the screen blacked out. Riltvak was momentarily startled, but then he zoomed out of the image until the ship travelling ahead of them could be seen properly. Riltvak, who was a proud (self-proclaimed) expert of space-faring craft had never seen anything like it. It was sleek and black, shaped like a needle. There was no indication that it could be opened, no windows, no hatchways. There didn’t seem to be any fins for atmospheric manoeuvring or any propellant of any kind. It was exactly like in the stories that were told about human ships, invisible, silent sentinels, perhaps deadlier than anything the rest of the Galaxy had ever seen.
No one commented on the ship’s sudden materialization. Nerves were too strung up for any sort of chat.
Riltvak instructed the first-mate to bring the Daystar behind the black ship, and they started to slow down as they started the descent into the atmosphere of the planet. The screen turned white momentarily as they entered a layer of clouds, and then burst into blue as they broke through them.
They followed the ship as it continued in a straight line towards one of the landmasses, until they finally flew over a vast gleaming city of towering spires draped with fronds of green vegetation. On the fringe of the city was the landing strip, a smooth rectangular area, lit brilliantly by the light of the sun and framed by a square of tall, verdant trees. Ships similar to the one that guided them hovered over it, while others so small that they were only black dots on the screen went about their business like a swarm of bees around their hive. Riltvak couldn’t get his eyes away from the screen, it was all so strange.
The communicator hissed one last time as it told them where to land, and Daystar touched down with a gentle bump. Riltvak took a deep breath. “Well, I guess we’re here.”
The Founder swept around, looking perfectly relaxed, and headed towards the doors without a word. Riltvak sighed and turned to his crew. “Men, you will take the ship into orbit as soon as we’re off the ship. If anyone tries to contact you, relay it to me. Don‘t do anything without my command.”
Riltvak left the control room and headed towards the elevators that would bring him to the hatchway on the bottom of the ship. The Founder was already there, along with a specially chosen advisor. Riltvak barely knew him, but he knew he was called Femur. Femur was a bird-like Frikalti from the Belur system, who worked as an -ologist of something or another. No doubt the Founder expected him to come up with answers to the things they saw on Earth.
The hatchway opened with a hiss of escaping air. The ramp extended slowly, and the Founder stepped on it first and made his way to a planet so far untouched by anyone not human. The Frikalti descended after him, and Riltvak waited a moment before going down. His going last was meant that he was here merely as an observer; it was a United Worlds custom. He doubted whether the humans would understand the significance of that.
The landing strip was still buzzing with activity. Swarms of small black ships, gleaming with sunlight, suddenly and smoothly took off, others landed so gently that they appeared hardly to touch the ground, and as soon as they did, hordes of white, wheeled robots dashed forward to unload freight or refuel the ships. The Founder stopped as soon as both his feet were on land. He looked around, waiting for them to arrive.
Riltvak had another opportunity to wonder what they humans really intended by finally letting the Founder through. Would they be audacious enough to scorn the Founder or insult him in some way? Or had they suddenly given in? He wished this problem would be resolved as quickly as possible; he couldn’t bear to wait any longer.
The Founder waited, motionless, but the Frikalti was making a strange noise in his throat, almost like a chirp. “Ah,” the Founder said, a moment later, “I believe they are here… or someone is, at any rate.”
Riltvak saw something approaching from the other side of the landing strip, where there was a small cluster of buildings. He realized instantly that it wasn’t a human, simply because it was made of the same black material that comprised the hulls of their ships. Its general features were very similar to a Lisindran’s, except that it had no tail and its face had no snout; it was flat. A moment later, it had reached them. The Frikalti scientist buzzed excitedly as he, like Riltvak, realized that the black metal was wreathed in a strange blue light - similar to a hologram, but apparently as fluid and free as air. Instead of being constrained to the single surface that emitted it, it swam around the robot, until it suddenly focused on the general area of its head, brightening into two round eyes and a mouth.
“Ostentatious,” the Femur squeaked as quietly as possible. “Equipping a robot with such technology is clearly meant to impress us. How wasteful.”
Yeah, Riltvak thought, but I bet you still want one.
The robot stopped before the Founder, its ‘face’ occasionally flickering. “Welcome to Earth. Might I have the pleasure of your names?”
The Founder looked surprisingly cool as he said, “I am Olmand Bertikes, Founder of the United Worlds and their representative. Femur Lunas is my advisor. Captain Riltvak is here as a neutral observer, bound by an oath to report events as they occur.” There was a subtle threat hidden in those words. Perhaps the Founder expected Riltvak to report that they had been greeted by a machine, rather than the humans themselves. Riltvak didn’t blame him for that; such a thing was, after all, a bit rude.
“Where are your masters?” the Founder asked.
The robot glanced down at him, being at least a foot taller. It crossed its arms, the smooth featureless metal apparently flowing or bending at the elbows. “My apologies,” it said, sounding confused. Riltvak wasn’t surprised at its tone; he had expected the robots to be smart, perhaps even a realistic mimicry of life. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Why has no one been sent to greet us?” the Founder asked, with the patience of one trying to make a persistent serving-bot understand that he could carry his own luggage.
“I am here, am I not?” the robot asked..
“I expected to meet the humans that form the government of Earth, or at least a representative - not a machine.”
“I am a representative of the Council,” the robot said. “My name is Lansor 7, but you may call me Lance.”
The Founder didn’t even blink. The Frikalti squawked loudly, even Riltvak took a sudden step back in surprise, but the Founder was unmovable as a statue. Nothing could surprise him.
The robot – or Lance – was quick to notice their reactions, no matter how subtle or quickly corrected. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. I believe that other races have different ways of interacting with their creations.”
“I was unaware that robots were given an equal standing to humans,” the Founder said quickly.
“No need to worry,” Lance said. “The most advanced robots on Earth - such as myself - simulate organic life perfectly. It could be argued that we possess a consciousness. Only molecules make us different. Now, if you would please follow me.”
The robot led them away across the landing strip. Riltvak watched the robot as they walked, too bewildered to actually wonder at the powers of those that had brought it into existence. Femur was looking around quickly, his head swivelling around on his thin neck as he absorbed everything. How many theories was he forming right now? Did he feel like Riltvak, that he was completely out of his field here?
They approached one of the sleek, black ships waiting at the far end of the landing strip. The featureless midnight metal seemed to flow open on one side, leading to a dimly lit interior. Everyone acted as if this was perfectly natural; the Founder, especially, seemed determined not to appear impressed by human technology. Femur noticed it, but a quick look from the Ambassador kept him from getting excited about it.
The interior of the ship was spherical. It contained five comfortable seats arranged around a circular table. The black walls were almost transparent on the inside, and Riltvak could see what was going outside. The robot sat with them, and as soon as the opening had been covered up by the flowing walls, the ship took off with an almost imperceptible bump.
The landing strip had soon disappeared in the distance beneath them and the ship rose high enough that they could see the curving surface of the planet, a shimmering light separating its edges from the blackness of space. Riltvak saw one of the massive, translucent domes, gleaming with the brilliance of the sun. It was so huge that it actually was noticeable on the horizon, a bump in the otherwise perfect curve of the planet.
“What is that?” Riltvak asked.
“It is a sealed environment,” Lance said. “We have many. Most are completely self-sufficient. We use them to protect the animals and plants that we require for our survival, or habitats that we deem too precious to lose..”
“Isn’t regular farming enough? Why so much protection?” Femur asked, craning his neck to get a better view of it.
“The humans take no chances with their food supply. Those domes provide a safe, controllable environment. The species within them can be influenced adjusted with the injection of new genes or species into the system - and if necessary, any unsatisfactory products constrained and destroyed. No form of pollutant can enter the system, and the domes are protected against all forms of weapons. The domes are not simply a way to make food better. They are a means to ensure the survival of humanity. Even if the planet were to be destroyed, the domes would survive, for they reach beneath the ground.”
“Preparing for the destruction of the planet is a little overboard,” Femur said. “There is no weapon that advanced.”
“Better be prepared than not at all,” the robot said. “We have our enemies, as I’m sure you are aware.”
The Founder looked up quickly. “These domes make the population vulnerable. The ones who own the domes are in power to dictate, if they control the supplies.”
“The domes are not owned by anyone. They are sealed off. Any harvesting of surplus is carried out by machines – which do not have sufficient intelligence to carry out revolutionary coups or anything of that sort.”
“What if someone tries to do that – say by influencing the machines?”
“There is no reason why anyone would want to that,” Lance said. “Anyone from Earth, that is. Things that your societies are still struggling to overcome, such as poverty, unemployment, these things we have taken care of. Everyone is as happy as they can be.”
“But you do not allow humans outside the Enclaves!” the Founder persisted. He seemed determined to find a flaw in anything human. “That is a suppression of freedom!”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong on that point,” Lance said. “We do, in fact, allow humans to leave the system. You just fail to notice them.”
“Then why do you isolate yourselves from other societies, from us?”
“Tell me, why did you not include the Berinari System in your organization?” the robot asked.
“The inhabitants of the Berinari system are very primitive, they have not even mastered space travel yet,” Femur quickly replied. “We will let them grow awhile, before we intervene in their natural course of development.”
The robot nodded, his face flickering again. “This is what we do with you. You are too young, too inexperienced. You cannot give you our utopia for the simple reason that you are not ready for it. You will spoil it.”
The Femur fluffed up his feathers. “We are not primitive,” it said indignantly.
The robot looked at it. “Tell me, Frikalti, what difference is there between your race and the animals of your homeworld? You are simply more intelligent, able to understand what you see around you and make use of it. Yet, instinctually, you are still like them. You act on impulses that these animals share with you. This is the same for the majority of all the other races in the United Worlds. No matter how sophisticated they think they are, they wage war or use peace to gain territory, and through that resources and influence.”
“Well, obviously, we have to eat,” the Founder said dryly.
“As do humans. The only difference is that our instincts do not determine everything in our society. In your worlds, there are criminals and liars and self-serving schemers. Many of these act on these selfish instincts. How many of the other races do you really trust? Why should we believe the United Worlds Organization is an indication of a prospering Galaxy, when it simply fear of conflict that brings you all together? When you overcome that competitive drive that is behind everything you do, then, perhaps, we will break our isolation.”
“And how is it that humans overcome this competitive drive?” Femur asked.
“We trust. Look, we are almost there.”
Their attention had been diverted by the conversation, but now they realized that the ship was slowly descending into a city. Silvery spires and rooftops swallowed them as they dove between the buildings. The ship went down far enough that they could see pedestrians on the streets below, but not far enough that they could distinguish them. They joined a travelling row of other ships, and then broke off again almost instantly to turn around a corner.
Before them appeared a giant, golden pyramid, set in the middle of an enormous circular plaza. The pyramid seemed to shine with fire as the sunlight played on its surface, and the white, pearly plaza’s reflections combined with it to form a dazzling illusion. The ship touched down before the temple-like pyramid, and Riltvak suddenly felt nervous. It was time to finally meet the humans.
They saw the buildings outside tilt as the ship started descending. It was heading towards one of the buildings, one that had a promontory on one side. The ship landed on that promontory and they disembarked.
After a brief ride in an elevator, they arrived in an expansive room with huge glass windows overlooking the city. Two red couches say around a small glass table, and soft music was playing, but they could not tell where it was coming from. A relaxing, cool breeze was coming in from somewhere, but again, they could not see its source. Lance politely bid them to wait and left the room.
The Founder seated himself on one of the couches and waited patiently, his tail swinging rhythmically with the music. Riltvak paced around near the windows, looking out at the metal buildings.
“Well, they are a strange race, no doubt about it,” he said, breaking the silence.
“They can probably hear you,” Riltvak said quietly.
“And see us,” Femur added. He pointed towards one of the corners, where there was a dim blue light. “That must be some sort of camera.”
“I agree,” the Founder said. A moment later, he announced, “and I do wish they would hurry up.”
“Founder Olmand,” a voice said suddenly. They all looked around towards the door, to see a human standing by the door. It wasn’t like anything Riltvak had seen before. It had two legs, two arms, a head, two eyes, a mouth and nostrils. Its shape, in fact, was similar to that of a Lisindran, although it had no tail. But it seemed so fragile, with its thin fingers unadorned by claws, with its pale white skin, that Riltvak was sure he could tear apart with his hands. “Now that you are finally here, I should welcome you to Earth, but after we turned you away so many times, I suppose that would be inappropriate.” The human’s eyes seemed to dance as looked into the Founder’s. “And you, Captain Riltvak, I have heard much about you. Your exploits are truly fascinating to follow.”
Riltvak nodded and muttered a thanks. He was feeling strange. Adrenalin was running through his body for no reason at all, and his mind was screaming at him to pounce on the human and rip out its throat. The thing was he didn’t know if it was merely his hunting instinct or plain terror. And yet, there was nothing formidable about the human.
“And you, Femur Lunas, I hear you are quite the scientist about the United Worlds. I am honoured to meet you,” the human continued pleasantly.
“And you as well,” Femur replied politely. “I assume you cannot converse acoustically.”
The human smiled. “That is true.”
Riltvak suddenly realized what was wrong. The human’s mouth was not moving when it spoke, and the sound was coming from everywhere around them.
“You have speakers concealed in the walls, then?” Femur mused. “And yet, how do the speakers receive what you intend to say?”
“It detects my thoughts,” the human said. “You truly are an observant one.”
Femur nodded again.
“You know all of us, but we do not know you,” the Founder said, interrupting the little conversation.
“That is true,” the human said. “I am Aligan, a male of the human race, representative of the Senate and that same race.” It was odd watching him gesture with his hands while no sound came from him.
The human seated himself on the couch opposite the Founder, with the round glass table between them. There was a moment of silence, the human looking expectantly at them, and smiling. Riltvak detected a faint edge in the situation. The humans were acting as if they expected the Founder’s visit to last only a few minutes. They had not bothered to take to any place where he could accommodate himself, nor arrange meetings or appointments. Aligan apparently had arrived here to talk and then they would be off on their way. That suited Riltvak very well.
Another robot entered the room, carrying a small plate of Trems and a bottle of Latvk – both of which came from Lisindra. Aligan smiled, and Riltvak, for a brief moment, thought that the smile looked like that of a predator taunting his prey. Aligan did seem fragile and yet his bearing was confident, unafraid. No mere mammalian creature had ever made Riltvak feel this way. He knew he could leap across the table and snap the human’s neck in a blink of an eye, but there was something about Aligan that would have made a Fanged Rabanest think twice.
He waited politely as the robot poured him a glass of Latvk and retreated to a distant corner. The Founder seemed completely relaxed – although his eyes were narrowed – and he was in no hurry to start the conversation. He sipped from the glass with an air of pleasure and then set in down on the table as he savoured one of the Trems.
The human crossed his legs and waited.
The Founder made the first concession. “Thank you,” he said, “for these delicacies. A charming gesture, if I might say.”
The human’s smile widened like a black hole about to swallow a star. “Don’t mention it. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“I am here, as you know, on the behalf of the United Worlds,” said the Ambassador. “Here,” he drew out a document, “I have an invitation, signed by all representatives of the United Worlds. We would like you to join our organization.”
“And the reason for the invitation?” Aligan prompted, making no move to look at the paper..
“There is no reason,” the Founder said, waving a hand negligently. “The United Worlds Organization dreams of an integrated galaxy, where all are equal and live in harmony. Your race is one of the few that have not yet joined, and we will do our utmost to convince you.” A subtle threat loomed in the Ambassador’s honeyed words. “Of course, the alliance will prove beneficial to both sides.”
Aligan’s eyes glittered. His smile widened. “And if we refuse?”
The Founder pretended to be taken aback. “Why would you refuse?”
“That, Founder, is our secret agenda. What‘s yours?”
The Founder ignored the deliberate taunt. “Well, if you don’t wish to cooperate, you will lose beneficial trade opportunities as well as the support of the United Worlds.”
“We are completely self-sufficient,” Aligan said. “I am sure Lance has told you a few things about us. You know that statistics on a chart mean nothing to us.”
The Founder’s tail twitched impatiently. Riltvak wondered if they shared the same feeling; he wished they would both get to the inevitable point. “Then join to nurture a relation between you and the rest of the Galaxy. Join to lessen the tension, to harbour trust. Lance said you humans value trust.”
“Tempting… trust.“ There was a slight undertone to this, almost as if it was another taunt.
“Well?”
“We refuse.”
“You’re not even giving it any consideration?”
“Stop acting surprised, Founder. We refused this invitation six times already. Tell me, what will the United Worlds do now?”
“The United Worlds will issue an ultimatum.”
“And what happens after we ignore it?”
“The Fleet of the United Worlds will invade your star system.”
“Oh dear. How terrifying.” Again, there was a strange lilt in Aligan‘s tone.
“Indeed. Self-imposed isolation is not advisable.”
“I will be very clear with you, here,” Aligan said, leaning forward. “When the United Worlds brings its fleet against us, we will retaliate. We will destroy your fleet and we will use a deterrent action. Some planets central to your organization might suddenly find themselves in trouble.”
The Founder bristled. ‘There is no need for threats against the innocent.”
The human grinned. “Threats? Isn’t that what you’re doing, threatening us? Join us or we will destroy you.” It shrugged. “We pose no threat to you. If you can offer trust, then trust us in this. We have no interest in your civilizations, even if we are responsible for the existence of some of them.”
“I am offended by your arrogance,” the Founder said, standing up.
“It is not arrogance,” Aligan said, his expression becoming serious. “It is simply nature. Do you give your spaceships to the bloodflies that populate your planet? Do you give utopia to a herd of cattle? No, you pass them by, without noticing them. You do not know, but there is a vast, vast difference between our civilization and yours. Many of your worlds would not exist without our intervention. Many of your races would have died out if we had not saved them. Others would never had developed if we didn’t nudge them in the right direction.”
“And you suddenly stopped being so generous?” the Founder demanded acidly.
“Oh, yes. We were merely experimenting, you see. You especially, as a Lisindran, should be more grateful to us. We terraformed your world from a rocky little world and we built the first organisms that would eventually populate your world and evolve into you.”
“Then, our gods aren’t real?” Riltvak asked. He wasn’t a religious man, but being told his whole existence was the result of a whimsical experiment was alarming.
Aligan smirked. “No… at least not in the way you believe.”
The Founder had grown as still as stone. “When the United Worlds hear you claim yourselves to be gods, they will call for war.”
“We don’t think ourselves as gods, Founder. Your forefathers simply made a mistake, for which you ought to forgive them. You cannot understand our civilization. When compared to you, yes, we are gods. Yet, I feel generous,” Aligan added dramatically. “I will give you a clue that may help your civilization to grow up. Sit down.”
The Founder abruptly sat, an expression of disbelief appearing on his face. “How?”
Riltvak looked in puzzlement at them. What was happening?
“Why do you think I cannot speak?” Aligan said. “How do I communicate with the rest of my species?”
“Clearly, you must have some other way of speaking. Your mouth is clear indication that you once must have been able to speak acoustically, but you must have evolved beyond it.” Femur said. “I don’t see how else you could communicate, however.”
“The answer is obvious. We communicate with our minds. After millions of years of evolution - and perhaps a little adjustments of our own - we have developed brains that can communicate directly. We can listen to the thoughts of other living beings, and to an extent, control them. From the very beginning, we had no claws to protect ourselves with, no poisons to scare predators away. We could not outrun the fastest predators, we could not overpower our prey. Our evolution took a different path. Our intelligence was the priority. It took your races much longer to develop any sort of intelligence, because you did not need it as desperately as we did. After so many years, we have come to this.
“Of course, It means we cannot hide our thoughts from each other. Our society evolved with us. Crime and corruption disappeared, for could route criminals and liars before then even acted. We were forced to become more open-minded and less judgemental. We were forced to understand each other. This was not some philosophical decision aimed to bring about the greater good. It was not false understanding, based on tolerance and appearance and morals. We had to understand and trust each other because we had to. Nature demanded that of us, and we evolved. Eventually, no more criminals and liars and selfish people were born. Why? Because they could not survive in our society. We evolved away from that phase. And thus, we were able to work together and become what we have become.”
He smiled, somewhat wistfully.
“Of course, certain things became obsolete. For example, it is very hard to write a story when everyone around you knows what is going to happen at the end – and when everyone keeps thinking of how bad is it. It is as if you are trying to tell a joke, and everyone knows the punch line. I can appreciate the significance of such things from your memories,” he added, “but in our society, such a thing as a joke does not exist. That’s why we watch you, why we observe you. Because you bring to us things we do not know. Riltvak’s adventures were tremendously fascinating to all us. There is not one human who cannot speak of his bravery.
“That is the only thing we shall impart with you. Perhaps, one day, you may grow to become like us and start to truly trust each other. For now, however, you will have to depend on the trust of appearances and believe that we have no intention of harming you. We are not a threat to you, and we do not wish to go to war. If, however, you declare war on us, we will have to retaliate. Tell the United Worlds that.”
The Founder did not reply immediately. It took several minutes before he looked up and said, “I will discuss this with my peers as soon as I can. What transpires from there is not my responsibility. Take us back to the Daystar.”
The journey back to the ship was solemn. The Founder was in no mood for conversation and Riltvak did not dare speak with Lance – who was driving them again – in case the Founder disapproved of overfriendliness. Riltvak kept wondering what was going on in his old friend‘s mind. Would he listen to reason and try to avert war, or would he claim that the humans were a threat, that they were too dangerous to be left unwatched?
Riltvak knew that he would be called on to confirm whatever the Founder said. His words would be the absolute truth – according to the oath he had taken prior to the journey. But the absolute truth could be bent and twisted by one such as the Founder. If Riltvak said that he did not see the humans as aggressive in any way, the Founder could simply raise doubt by talking about human motives in the future and so on. Of course, Riltvak doubted whether the Founder would do this, but the other political authorities in the United Worlds were not as worthy as he was.
“We have arrived,” said Lance. They felt a gentle bump as the robot brought the ship down. The walls of the ship flowed open, and the Founder stepped out silently, evidently unable to speak. Riltvak made to stand up, but Lance turned around in his seat. “Please wait, Captain.”
Riltvak stopped near the opening. “Yes?”
“Aligan has contacted the Senate and they have reached a decision,” said the robot. “Do you think that war is imminent?”
”I don‘t know,” Riltvak said. “The Founder won’t call for it, but if the United Worlds pressure him. It depends on their decision.”
“They are not our friends.”
“That’s fairly obvious,” said Riltvak dryly. “What are you going to do?”
“When you are asked to give a report, we need you to lie.”
“What do you mean?”
“You must tell them we are considering a decision. The point is to stall them from reaching a decision, make them wait, even if you must go against the Founder‘s will.”
“You think that’s going to change anything in the end?”
“The humans are also going to destroy a small, uninhabited planet a few light years away from our system. We will claim that it was being used as a base by a pirate fleet. That should be enough of a deterrent. But you must make them wait, so we can make the right preparations.”
“Why didn‘t you just tell the Founder you‘ll consider it?”
”That was the viable option, true, but we are not used to lying. They have not lied for thousands of years. So you must forgive them if it slipped their minds. Humans still make mistakes. You can correct that mistake, because they believe that you cannot lie.”
“You’re asking me to break an oath?”
“The breaking of the oath will not beget you eternal damnation. We created your planet and brought about your civilization. But, I’m sure if there’s a real god, you’ll have his forgiveness. After all, what is one little lie when it saves billions of lives?”
“So you don‘t believe in god?”
“No Captain, I believe in tune-ups and spare parts.” The robot turned back to the controls. “I hope you make the right choice Captain. Farewell.”
The Founder was waiting inside the control room, already writing his report. Riltvak was only very mildly surprised when he saw that the Founder said he was suggesting a small skirmish, so that at least some human capabilities would be measured. Riltvak sighed. Even in a small skirmish, people would die for reason at all. And the humans had promised retaliation against the various planets.
“So, what did the robot want to tell you?” the Founder asked, after Riltvak did not comment on his decision.
What is one little lie when it saves billions of lives?
“Oh, he just wanted to know something about that time I got stranded on Somari VI,” Riltvak said nonchalantly.
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