by M. ORENDA
Wexler stares at her, dumbfounded.
“The colonel and his team will remain here,” she continues. “They will permit only the humans we approve to enter this place, our place, as guaranteed by the Treaty. They will guard us when we visit your places of government. They will speak for us, as our special envoy, in matters of security and procedure. They have been tested. They have proven that they have the necessary character. We will accept no one else to protect our interests.”
Voss rubs his hand over his beard, searching for some rational response, even though there isn’t one. “With respect, Your Excellency, I serve at the pleasure of the Rhys Corp Board and the president of the NRM.”
“Yes,” Wexler agrees. “I don’t think this is wise. We have others who… might pass all those tests.”
“You doubt our wisdom?” Niri asks, though it’s clearly not a question. “The experience of your one short life makes you so bold, so certain? We cannot help your civilization to achieve its goals, and embrace its destiny, if our sovereignty in this place is not absolute. We do not require your understanding, Mr. President. We do not expect it. We require only your cooperation.”
Wexler purses his lips in thought, then narrows his gaze on Voss. “Very well. Colonel, I’m reassigning you to serve the Devas, and their Ambassador, in whatever capacity she deems fit until she determines that you are no longer needed. We will respect whatever title she creates for you.”
“He is Lieutenant Colonel Jared Voss,” Niri supplies. “Esteemed member of your race, Chief Security Officer of this station, and our special envoy in matters of security and human protocol.”
Wexler nods, then smiles with a convincing show of white teeth, as if embracing a moment of personal triumph. Deal done. Merger complete. “I’m glad we could accommodate you, Excellency. It’s important to us that you find our security forces here are so trustworthy and hold them in such high regard. That’s something that the entire NRM Board will be pleased to hear. So, of course, we welcome the opportunity to start work together, with Colonel Voss as your CSO and personal Envoy.”
“Personal Envoy,” Voss repeats. “With all due respect---”
“A valuable position, Jared,” Wexler replies offhandedly. “This is a mission of paramount importance to the NRM, and Rhys Corp, the company that holds your contract. The Ambassador trusts you, and we trust you.”
Since when? Voss feels trapped in the chair.
“You’re the ideal candidate for this post,” Wexler continues, shooting him a look that isn’t difficult to translate. You’re on the inside now, in a position of trust with the Devas, and we’re going to keep you there because you might be useful… you fuckhead.
“And…” the President straightens his shirt cuffs. “Your efforts will be duly recognized both in regard to your professional status, and your personal investment profile. Congratulations… a well-deserved honor.”
Voss can’t reply.
The president makes a show of looking at his watch, then nodding to the two guards. “I have an urgent meeting.” He turns to Niri, bowing his head in deference. “I hope you can excuse me, Excellency. I trust your new CSO will inform me of anything you need, and supervise the repair and restoration of your operations here so we can begin work soon.”
“Thank you,” Niri says simply. “I am satisfied.”
“Good luck, Jared,” Wexler says, the words sharp. He walks past the windows to the stairs, and the two guards follow him out of sight.
Voss sits, trying to wrap his head around what just happened, and what comes next. The caverns spread their light, casting the empty desks around him in shadow. He grimaces.
“Join me when you are ready,” Niri says. “The air in my quarters has been adjusted for you. There is no danger. I will try to help you understand.”
She slips away toward the airlock, and he watches her go, finally tilting his gaze toward the ceiling in frustration. Understand? Which part? The vague ‘Envoy’ trap? The CSO farce? The Red Filter bullshit?
He rubs his hands over his face, rises from the chair, and follows her.
He finds her in her glass enclosure on the rocks. She’s standing at a holo screen with her back to him, the thick black braid of her hair falling to her waist, the blue green of the caves shimmering in the windows around her. She’s hard at work, her fingertips tracing lines on the design grid, across the glow of virtual lines, measurements and specs changing as she adds details with a slight touch.
He watches her for a moment, thinking it’s too fast, the plotting rapid and emotionless, something alien in the pure precision of thought. And the thing she’s tracing out… An engine? Weapon? It looks like it could be either of those things, or a thousand other things he wouldn’t recognize, things maybe no human would recognize.
“What are you?” he asks, not caring that it sounds harsh.
She doesn’t stop, those delicate fingers playing over the holo screen, expanding a circle shape to add more circles within it. “We are Devas, but you can call me Niri, in honor of the first human who shared her memories with us.”
“What happened to Niri?”
“We are her. She is us.”
“Mind control.”
“Merged state. It was her choice. She wanted to become completely us.”
“So… she can decide to be completely herself again?”
Her fingers pause on the holo screen.
She meets his gaze over her shoulder, then turns to face him.
It strikes him then, how completely alien she is. It’s something he can’t quite formulate, the recognition of it, the difference between a human, and something that merely looks like one. Her expression is colder, sharper, more intense, or maybe that’s just the way she’s watching him now. It’s unclear, but her eyes seem larger, their darkness absolute.
“You fear us,” she says softly. “But there is no reason to.”
“I want to talk to Niri.”
“She is us.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“She has become us, her knowledge of human history, of language, her emotions, and memories, exist in us now. She exists as us, as part of us, inseparable from us. And she has taught us so much about you, the Asura, the warrior who places duty above all else. Why do you think we intervened on your behalf? We know you. We know you have great things to accomplish, great things… much more to do.”
“To do?”
She pauses, as if she’s organizing her thoughts… or listening. “This is the beginning. Your species has gone as far as it can go alone.”
“My… I don’t understand.”
“You stand here as the proof. You are a soldier. Who do you fight?”
“Who?”
“Humans,” she answers for him. “You fight to defend humans from other humans. You fight those among your kind who have no social conscience, who kill without mercy, whose lust for power overrides all obligation to life, and greater society. Such people have destroyed your home world, and continue to spread chaos in their quest to create small and lifeless kingdoms. This is the paradox of evolution. It breeds the strongest, favors fittest, the most aggressive, the most ruthless, and persuasive. All of these traits are useful for the survival of the individual, but they will ultimately corrupt even the largest civilizations, and destroy the potential of the species. The fight for power, survival, creates you in your harshest image so that you will annihilate yourselves if you fail to advance as a race.”
“We managed to advance ourselves to Mars, and discover you.”
She slants him a look of mild rebuke, as if he should know better. “You brought your wars to us, the kind that will destroy this planet, the same way it has Earth. This is not advancement.”
He can’t argue that, so he says nothing.
She turns her attention to the bluish orb of the circular window and reaches out, stroking her hand gently over the glass. “But the universe has an amazing way of compensating for weakness. You think th
at your body, your mind, are your own, but there are trillions of microorganisms inside you that help you to function in your advanced state. They help you to eat, grow new cells. Bacterial cells in the human body outnumber human cells by ten-to-one. They live inside you. But they are not you. They weren’t always part of your biology, but they are now, and this arrangement is beneficial for them, and for you. Evolution has its phases, ways to overcome its own deficiencies. It offers advancements for those species that have proven they can achieve greatness.”
Voss can follow the logic easily enough, even if he doesn’t like it. “And you want to be one of those microorganisms that exist inside us… help us to make that next evolutionary leap forward?”
“Yes.”
“Through mind control.”
“It would not work that way.”
“What way would it work?”
She doesn’t answer right away but moves away from the window, the glow of the holo screen now shimmering between them, its design incomplete.
“Every human is an individual. Their personalities, eccentricities, and ambitions are vital to their success. But what if there were a group of humans who retained---exemplified---all of those unique characteristics, only in a much more stable version, one that harbored no capacity to commit evil against members of their own species? What if there were a group of humans among you that could be completely trusted. A group without destructive greed? No violent psychopathy, no selfish rage, or emotional apathy? What if there were a group of humans that could be relied upon to act in the best interest of all, illuminated, and educated in the wisdom of an immortal collective, like ourselves? It would be an invaluable resource.”
“A group of humans controlled by you?”
“Not controlled… enriched.”
“That’s playing God, and we’ve tried it. Psychotropic nanotech focused on moderating human behavior, buffering the bad, and boosting the good, eliminating the psychopaths. It got hacked and people slaughtered each other worse than before. There were also drugs which produced helpless idiots, incapable of sustaining their existence. The list of human experimentation goes on. It never ended well for us.”
Devas gazes out the module’s windows. “How could it? It was flawed, primitive technology implemented solely by humans, and inherently reflective of the weaknesses of its creators. Who among you would not misuse such technology, given the chance? Who among you has the experience of thinking as we do, without ego, without the drive for personal gain? Who would not somehow use such a thing for war, or profit, or both?”
Voss focuses on the cave system beyond her. “I’ve seen nothing to indicate that you’re not capable of the same misuses.”
“Haven’t you? What is our civilization, if not peaceful?”
“That may not apply to humans.”
“You will learn that it does. The humans who bond our two societies together will prove it. They will live at your mercy, and they will become the unselfish guarantors of your future.”
“Our future?”
“Because of Niri, we know that our species, and yours, are compatible, and we can help each other. Humans can succeed in creating a peaceful interstellar society, in the same way they succeed in digesting their food, by allowing another, symbiotic organism to improve these processes for them.”
“Because you can… what? Shut down murderous impulses for us?”
“Yes. When they are not necessary to defend others, yes. Your society’s strength comes from individuals. We can ensure that those who are naturally gifted, and who carry a social conscience, succeed. While others, who are weak and wish to destroy, steal, or control to the detriment of the species, are tempered, refocused on the positive gifts they have. This is evolution beyond survival. This is evolution of culture, of potential, of eternity, and it is natural. We can ensure that, within this group of enriched humans, everything that is good about humanity will remain, and be enhanced, but there will simply be no terrorists, no dictators, no warlords, or religious tyrants. What if such a group of humans existed? What if a social conscience could be guaranteed?”
Voss feels a stab at that, standing before this… thing, as a man who has given his life, his blood, and that of his brothers, in the perpetual fight against the evil in human nature, inured after so many years to its infinite ability to branch and resurface, its ruthless inevitability. What if? What the fuck?
He grimaces. “You want hosts.”
“Volunteers.”
“Like Niri? What human individuality did you leave her?”
“Niri is different. She can merge with us. It was her choice. In others, we would not be noticed. We would not regulate the self-destructive nature of a great artist, or the sometimes ruthless ambition of a great leader, or the capacity for violence in a proficient soldier. These are the elements of your society which offer protection, drive advancement, and achievement. We do not wish to interfere with that. It is not in our interests. We only wish to accentuate natural gifts, add wisdom, and curb destructive impulses in certain individuals, in order to prevent actions which would be detrimental to your society, a society we are investing in.”
Investing. Voss glances at the holo screen, its implication now alarmingly clear. Investing. Owning.
She presses her lips together, cautious, as if sensing where his mind is going. “We have much to share. Enriched human intelligence, drawing from the power of the collective, will be able to solve the problems in your current scientific theories without effort. This theoretical engine system, given to Niri in images by those who sent her to us, is one we now understand and have already improved upon. Enriched humans will conquer scientific challenges at a much faster rate, allowing you to bridge the distance between galaxies, and cross the universe if you choose. But for you to accomplish great things, such as colonization, and interplanetary civilization, human-on-human war must end.”
“You want us to colonize other solar systems? For you?”
She seems puzzled by that. “For yourselves. We are a collective, a species with no individuals in the way you understand them. We have no ego, and no greed, no desire to conquer. We do not want mindless hosts, slave creatures to mirror our cave bound society. We would derive nothing from this. We cannot function in the way that you do amongst yourselves, as individuals. We do not want to. We have no lust for procreation, no hunger for food, no skill in governing the biological aspects of your existence that you manage so efficiently on your own. We cannot physically appreciate your instincts, many of which are necessary for your existence. You survive as individuals, and we respect that. We want you to succeed, to create healthy new worlds, and take us to them, not as masters, or servants, but as partners. We thirst for more knowledge, for the experience you can have, but we cannot. It is help we are offering you, friendship, and the opportunity to advance to a new version of humanity, one that will no longer tear itself apart.”
He stares at her. In this moment, he hates her. The ferocity of it burns inside his chest, because of what he’s done, because of what he’s been told, and what he trusted was the truth. The entire basis of his service, and his life, has just been reduced to being an unwilling participant in a plot to introduce this thing to the human race.
And, God knows, her arguments are persuasive. Wasted on a soldier, surely, but more than enough to convince an entire planet of corporate fools---who already consider themselves so enlightened---that this is the next step in human evolution, and it includes as much profit as they can bleed from all those new breakthroughs she’s going to give them, all the unimaginable treasure they’re going to cram into the improved ships she’s going to help them design. She’ll have all the volunteers she needs, her own private space corps of ‘enriched’ humans to shuttle her from world to world.
Thus the clarification on violence. It doesn’t get eliminated. No, she’s saying it stays. It just gets limited to the ‘protection of others’, which he knows from experience can mean absolutely anything.
Maybe the elite decision makers of Red Filter have considered that. Maybe they haven’t. Either way, no one asked his opinion because no one gives a shit what he thinks. That much is clear.
Humanity, his humanity, the only one he knows, the one that rose from the dust of Earth, and stood alone, flawed, vicious, but still heir to great empires, and starry poets, and eternal questions it had the right to answer on its own… it’s all disappearing right over the edge of a cliff, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.
Already gone.
He stands in front of her, forced to recognize it, and unable to respond, his fingers forming loose fists, numb. This is what Kazak, and whoever hired him, didn’t understand. They thought this could be curbed by force. At any cost. Kill everyone. Destroy it, rather than allow someone else to own it.
It doesn’t work like that.
Force has limits.
You can kill individuals, but you can’t kill ideas, or wipe out the desire to pursue them. He could break with ethos right now, and take out Niri, based solely on his instinct, and then what? Destroy the station? Kill all of the gifted—most of them still kids? There’s got to be another dozen test subjects like her still on Earth, waiting to be extracted by another team just like his. Should he kill all the new ones too? Children? Torch the cave? Find a way to destroy the colony, all the unknown miles of it, all the portions that exist underwater.
Start yet another war. For what?
This is no hostile invasion. This thing was invited in. The powers that be spent decades pursuing it. They invested their money, and his blood, and it’s not going back in the box. First contact, a grand new partnership between humans and BIO227, a glorious path to the stars.