And that was the problem. No society could absorb that much change in one gulp. Varosa Uman’s species had endured a millennium of chaos after it had received its version of the Message.
It was an elegant defense. The Message satisfied the consciences of the species who employed it and it permanently eliminated the threat posed by visitors who might have hostile intentions. Interstellar war might seem improbable but it wasn’t impossible. A small probe could slip into a planetary system unannounced, establish a base on an obscure body, and construct equipment that could launch a flotilla of genocidal rocks at an unsuspecting world.
Varosa Uman’s people had never sent another visitor to the stars. As far as they could tell, all the species that had received the Message had settled into the same quiet isolation—if they survived their own version of the Great Turbulence.
“The Message can be considered a kind of conditioning,” a post-Turbulence committee had concluded. “The chaos it creates implants a permanent aversion to interstellar contact.”
Revutev Mavarka was an Adventurer—a member of a minority group that constituted approximately twelve percent of the population. Varosa Uman’s species had emerged from the Turbulence by forcing far-reaching modifications on the neurochemical reactions that shaped their emotional responses. They had included a controlled number of thrill-seekers and novelty chasers in their population mix because they had understood that a world populated by tranquil, relentlessly socialized serenes had relinquished some of its capacity to adapt. No society could foresee all the twists and traps the future could hold.
Most Adventurers satisfied their special emotional needs with physical challenges and sexual escapades. Revutev Mavarka seemed to be captivated by less benign outlets. His fiftieth awake had been marked by his attempt to disrupt the weather program that controlled the rainfall over the Fashlev mountain range. The First Principal Overseer had added twelve years to his next dormancy period and the Integrators had approved the penalty.
In his seventy-third awake, Revutev Mavarka had designed a small, hyperactive carnivore that had transferred a toxin through the food chain and transformed the habitués of a staid island resort into a population of temporary risk addicts. In his eighty-first, he had decided his happiness depended upon the companionship of a prominent fashion despot and kidnapped her after she had won a legal restraint on his attentions. The poisoning had added twenty-two years to his next dormancy, the kidnapping twenty-eight.
Varosa Uman and her husband liked cool winds and rugged landscapes. They liked to sit on high balconies, hands touching, and watch winged creatures circle over gray northern seas.
“It’s Revutev Mavarka,” Varosa Uman said. “He’s made an unauthorized contact with a visitation.”
“And the Integrators think you can give them some special insight?”
“They’ve placed me in charge of the entire response. I’m replacing Mansita Jano.”
Siti called up Mansita Jano’s data and scanned through it. “He’s a specialist,” Siti said. “It’s a big responsibility but I think I agree with the Integrators.”
“You may belong to a very small minority. They gave me a scrupulously polite briefing.”
“They don’t know you quite as well as I do.”
“Mansita Jano was getting ready to arrest Revutev Mavarka. And offer the Message.”
“And you think the situation is a bit more complicated…”
“There are two visitors. One of them is acting like it represents a planetary authority. The other one—the visitor Revutev Mavarka contacted—looks like it may have more in common with him. I have to see how much support Revutev Mavarka has. I can’t ignore that. You have to think about their emotional reactions when you’re dealing with the Adventurer community. I have to weigh their feelings and I have to think about the responses we could provoke in the visitors—both visitors. We aren’t the first people to confront two visitors but it still increases the complexities—the unknowns.”
“And Revutev Mavarka has piled more complexities on top of that. And the Integrators understandably decided we’d be better off with someone like you pondering the conflicts.”
* * *
The contact had told the Betzino-Resdell community they should call him Donald. So far they had mostly traded language programs. They could exchange comments on the weather in three hundred and seven different languages.
The alters that were interested in non-human sexuality lobbied for permission to swap data on sexual practices. There were six alters in the group and they represented the six leading scholars associated with the North Pacific Center for the Analysis of Multi-Gender Sexuality. The exploration units they controlled had observed the activities of eight local life-forms. All eight seemed to have developed the same unimaginative two-sex pattern life had evolved on Earth. Their forays into the cities had given them a general picture of the inhabitant’s physiology but it had left them with a number of unresolved issues.
Topic: Does your species consist of two sexes?
Betzino-Resdell: Yes.
Donald: Yes.
Topic: Are there any obvious physical differences between the sexes?
BR: Yes.
Donald: Yes
Topic: What are they?
BR: Our males are larger, bigger boned on average. Generally more muscular.
Donald: Males more colorful, more varied facial feathers.
Topic: Do you form permanent mating bonds?
BR: Yes.
Donald: Yes.
Topic: Do any members of your species engage in other patterns?
BR: Yes.
Donald: Yes.
Topic: How common are these other patterns?
BR: In many societies, very high percentages engage in other patterns.
Donald: Why do you wish to know?
* * *
The visitation committee was receiving a full recording of every exchange between Revutev Mavarka and the visitation device that called itself Betzino-Resdell. Revutev Mavarka was, of course, fully aware that he was being observed. So far he had avoided any exchanges that could produce accusations he had transmitted potentially dangerous information.
“It must be frustrating,” Varosa Uman said. “He must have a million subjects he’d like to discuss.”
“We just need one slip,” Mansita Jano said. “Give us one slip and he’ll be lucky if fifty members of his own class stand by him.”
“And the visitor will have the information contained in the slip…”
Mansita Jano’s facial feathers stirred—an ancient response that made his face look bigger and more threatening. “Then why not silence him before he does it, Overseer? Do you really think he can keep this up indefinitely without saying something catastrophic?”
* * *
“I’ve been thinking a dangerous thought,” Varosa Uman said.
“I’m not surprised,” Siti said.
“Every intelligent species that has sent visitors to an inhabited world has apparently lived through the same horrible experience we did. Some of them may not have survived it. If our experience is typical, everybody who receives the Message responds in the same way when they receive a visitation after they’ve gone through their version of the Turbulence. The Message is a great teacher. It teaches us that contact with other civilizations is a dangerous disruption.”
Two large winged predators were swooping over the water just below the level of their balcony. The dark red plumage on their wings created a satisfying contrast with the grey of the sea and the sky
“I’m thinking it might be useful if someone looked at an alternative response,” Varosa Uman said.
Siti ran his fingers across the back of her hand. They had been married for eighty-two complete cycles—twenty-four hundred years of full consciousness. He knew when to speak and when to mutely remind her he was there.
“Suppose someone tried a different role,” Varosa Uman said. “Suppose we offered to guide these visitors th
rough all the adaptations they’re going to confront. Step by step.”
“As an older, more experienced species.”
“Which we are. In this area, at least.”
“We would have to maintain contact,” Siti said. “They would be influencing us, too.”
“And threatening us with more turbulence. I’d be creating a disruption the moment I mentioned the idea to Mansita Jano.”
“Have you mentioned your intellectual deviation to the Integrators?”
“They gave me one of their standard routines. They pointed out the dangers, I asked them for a decision, and they told me they were only machines, I’m the Situation Overseer.”
“And they picked you because their routines balanced all the relevant factors—see attached list—and decided you were the best available candidate.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious I got the job because I’m more sympathetic to the Adventurer viewpoint than most of the candidates who had the minimum expertise they were looking for.”
“You’re certainly more sympathetic than Mansita Jano. As I remember it, your major response to Revutev Mavarka’s last misadventure was a daily outburst of highly visible amusement.”
Siti had been convinced he wanted to establish a permanent bond before they had finished their first active period together. She had resisted the idea until they were halfway through their next awake but she had known she would form a bond with someone sooner or later. They were both people with a fundamental tendency to drift into permanent bonds and they had reinforced that tendency, soon after they made the commitment, with a personality adjustment that eliminated disruptive urges.
Siti found Revutev Mavarka almost incomprehensible. A man who kidnapped a woman just to satisfy a transient desire? And created a turmoil that affected hundreds of people?
Twenty years from now she won’t mean a thing to him, Siti had said. And he knows it.
“He’s impulsive,” Varosa Uman said. “I can’t let myself forget he’s impulsive. Unpredictably.”
* * *
Trans Cultural had asked all the required questions and looked at all the proffered bona fides. The emissary called Varosa Uman Deun Malinvo … satisfied all the criteria that indicated said emissary represented a legitimate governmental authority.
“Is it correct to assume you represent the dominant governmental unit on your planet?” Trans Cultural asked.
“I represent the only governmental unit on my planet.”
Varosa Uman had established a direct link with the base Trans Cultural had created in the Gildeen Wilderness. She had clothed herself in the feather and platinum finery high officials had worn at the height of the Third TaraTin Empire and she was transmitting a full, detailed image. Trans Cultural was still limiting itself to voice-only.
“Thank you for offering that information,” Trans Cultural said.
“Are you supposed to limit your contacts to governmental representatives?”
“I am authorized to initiate conversations with any entity as representative as the consortium I represent.”
“Can you give us any information on the other visitor currently operating on our world?”
“The Betzino-Resdell Exploration Community primarily represents two private individuals. The rest of its membership comprises two other individuals and three minor organizations.”
“Can you give me any information on its members?”
“I’m afraid I’m not authorized to dispense that information at present.”
“The presence of another visitor from your society seems to indicate you do not have a single entity that can speak for your entire civilization. Is that correct?”
“I represent the dominant consensus on our world. My consortium represents all the major political, intellectual, and cultural organizations on our world. I am authorized to furnish a complete list on request.”
* * *
Betzino-Resdell had created an antenna by shaping a large rock slab into a shallow dish and covering it with a thin metal veneer. The orbiter passed over the antenna once every 75.6 minutes and exchanged transmissions.
“You should create an alternate transmission route,” Revutev Mavarka said. “I’ve been observing your skirmishes with the other visitor. You should be prepared to continue communications with your orbiter if they manage to invade your base and destroy your antenna.”
“Do you think that’s a significant possibility?”
“I believe you should be prepared. That’s my best advice.”
* * *
“He’s preparing a betrayal,” Mansita Jano said. “He’s telling us he’s prepared to send them information about the Message if we attempt to arrest him.”
Varosa Uman reset the recording and watched it again. She received recordings of every interchange between Revutev Mavarka and the second visitor but Mansita Jano had brought this to her attention as soon as it had been intercepted.
Mansita Jano had raised the possibility of a “warning message” in their first meetings. The Message itself contained some hints that it had thrown whole civilizations into turmoil but most of the evidence had been edited out of the historical sections. The history of their own species painted an accurate picture up to their receipt of the Message.
The humans would never hear of the millions who had died so the survivors could live through a limitless series of active and dormant periods. They would learn the cost when they counted their own dead.
But what would happen if their visitors received a message warning them of the dangers? Would it have any effect? Would they ignore it and stumble into the same wilderness their predecessors had entered?
For Mansita Jano, the mere possibility Revutev Mavarka might send such a message proved they should stop “chattering” and defend themselves.
“We have no idea what such a warning message might do,” Mansita Jano said. “Its very existence would create an unpredictable situation that could generate endless debate—endless turbulence!—within our own society. By now the humans have received the first messages informing them of our existence. By now, every little group like these Betzino-Resdell adventurers could have launched a visitor in our direction. How will we treat them when we know they’re emissaries from a society that has been warned?”
“I started working on that issue as soon as I finished viewing the recording,” Varosa Uman said. “I advised the Integrators I want to form a study committee and they’ve given me the names of ten candidates.”
“And when they’ve finished their studies, they’ll give you the only conclusion anyone can give you. We’ll have fifty visitors orbiting the planet and we’ll still be staring at the sky arguing about a list loaded with bad choices.”
* * *
The Integrators never used a visual representation when they communicated with their creators. They were machines. You must never forget they were only machines. Varosa Uman usually turned toward her biggest window and looked out at the sea when she talked to them.
“I think you chose me because of my position on the Adventurer personality scale,” Varosa Uman said. “You felt I would understand an Adventurer better than someone with a personality closer to the mean. Is that a reasonable speculation?”
“You were chosen according to the established criteria for your assignment.”
“And I can’t look at the criteria because you’ve blocked access.”
“That is one of the rules in the procedure for overseeing visitations. Access to that information is blocked until the visitation crisis has been resolved.”
“Are you obeying the original rules? Or have they been modified here and there over the last three thousand years?”
“There have been no modifications.”
“So why can’t I just talk to someone who remembers what the original rules were?”
“You are advised not to do that. We would have to replace you. You will do a more effective job if you operate without that knowledge.”
“Twe
lve percent of the population have Adventurer personality structures. They’re a sizable minority. They tend to be popular and influential. I can’t ignore their feelings. Does my own personality structure help me balance all the relevant factors?”
“It could. We are only machines, Overseer. We can assign numerical weights to emotions. We cannot feel the emotions ourselves.”
Varosa Uman stood up. A high, almost invisible dot had folded its wings against its side and turned into a lethal fury plummeting toward the waves. She adjusted her eyes to ten power and watched hard talons drive into a sea animal that had wandered into the wrong area.
“I’m going to let the study committee do its work. But I have to conclude Mansita Jano is correct. We can’t let Revutev Mavarka send a warning message. I can feel the tensions he’s creating just by threatening to do it. But we can’t just arrest him. And we can’t just isolate him, either. The Adventurer community might be small but it could become dangerously angry if we took that kind of action against one of the most popular figures in the community while he’s still doing things most Adventurers consider harmless rule bending.”
“Have you developed an alternative?”
“The best solution would be a victory for the Trans Cultural visitation. Arranged so it looked like they won on their own.”
She turned away from the ocean. “I’ll need two people with expertise in war fighting tactics. I think two should be the right number. I’ll need a survey of all the military planning resources you can give me.”
The Year’s Best Science Fiction Page 61