by Mitch Benn
Compositor Vstj’s home was a commanding pyramid-shaped house which sat on a hill overlooking the city. It had been built many orbits before Vstj was born, by one of Vstj’s many illustrious ancestors. Vstj himself had lived there as a child with his parents, and lived there now alone.
Most evenings upon his arrival, Vstj would let himself in by one of the smaller entrances at the rear of the house (the imposing front door had been locked for many orbits, and Vstj never saw the point of opening such a grand portal just for himself) and fumble around for the master light switch. The motion detector switches which, in most Mlmln homes, would activate the lights upon the occupants’ return, had long since malfunctioned. Vstj would occasionally contemplate getting them fixed, but then decide not to bother; it was hardly a chore flicking on a switch.
As the lights flickered on, Vstj would always be greeted by the same sight. The lobby of his house was lined with holographic portraits of his deceased relatives. On one side, his father’s family; eminent scientists, every one of them, for as far back as the family could trace itself. There was Gfn, the master agri-geneticist, inventor of crop-growing techniques which had made famine a distant memory on Fnrr. Here sat Chlgf, astronomer and astral spectroscopy pioneer; his methods were used to determine the atomic composition of distant stars even to this day. Next to him there was Dfn-Shfr, creator of the intelligent responsive fabrics which almost everyone in Mlml wore, and so on and so on.
Facing the scientists from across the lobby, Vstj saw his mother’s family. Soldiers. Military leaders, generals, space admirals, defenders, champions. Legends. His own mother’s portrait hung at the far end of the lobby. As Vstj proceeded along the corridor, she would stare down at him with the same look of disappointment she’d always worn in his presence while she was alive. Vstj would avert his gaze and shuffle on.
Vstj would make himself something to eat; generally configuration 4 or 12. He wasn’t especially fond of configurations 4 or 12, but his protein manipulator was very old and had become jammed on those two settings. He knew it was time he replaced it, but it was a design classic, he would tell himself, and besides, there wasn’t anything actually wrong with configurations 4 and 12.
Vstj would then spend the rest of the evening going over some work on his slate, or perhaps reading the news, before swallowing a couple of rather strong sleep-inducing tablets and activating his sleep-well. He did this because once in his sleep-well, in the darkness, silence and weightlessness, he would be alone with his thoughts, and Vstj didn’t like his thoughts very much.
Tonight was different. Tonight Vstj’s pill bottle remained unopened. Tonight Vstj was content to remain conscious for a little while before drifting naturally off to sleep. He thought back to his conversation with the Ymn child. He’d helped, hadn’t he? He’d actually helped. He’d had a positive effect. He half wished his mother were still alive so he could tell her about it. Not that she would have been particularly impressed. The nation on the brink of war and here he was still shuffling numbers and fretting over budget projections. Well, maybe he’d show her. Maybe he’d never gone to war but now it looked like the war was coming to him. Maybe he’d finally have the chance to do something properly brave.
Wait, am I actually looking forward to this? wondered Vstj. What sort of a person does that make me?
Vstj’s last thought before dozing off was that perhaps he should have taken the pills after all.
3.3
Terra had been looking forward to today. No Lyceum, and with work at the Life Science Hub temporarily suspended, she and Lbbp had planned a day of games. Tb-tb-tff and perhaps even dfsh, if she could persuade Lbbp to go out into the public gardens. Lbbp got embarrassed playing games in public; it was rather sweet, thought Terra.
She had a disappointment coming.
- I’m sorry, Terra, said Lbbp, switching off his comm. They’ve convened an emergency debate at the Forum, and I’ve got to attend as part of the Preceptor’s advisory panel.
- The Preceptor has an advisory panel?
- He does now, and I’m on it. Listen, Terra, Lbbp sat down, took both of Terra’s hands in his own and looked her in the eyes, if there’s any chance of averting this war we’ve got to take it. The politicians will never figure it out; all they care about is what makes them look good. They’ve invited the Preceptor to speak before the Forum. If anybody can think of a way out of this it’s him, and if he says he needs me there I can’t turn him down. Do you understand?
- I suppose, said Terra sadly.
- Good girl. Now look, I should be back before sleep-time; I’m sure you can find things to do with yourself until I get back. Play games on your slate, read some stories, hey, WRITE some stories, why not? Lbbp got up to go. Terra had an idea.
- I could come with you! I could come to the debate!
- I really don’t think so, Terra, said Lbbp, packing his slate into a bag. It’s not the sort of thing you’d enjoy.
- Why? Because I’m a stupid Ymn? Terra surprised herself with her own anger. The conversation with Yshn had clearly upset her more than even she had realised.
Lbbp sighed, exasperated. - No, because you’re only eight orbits old!
- Fthfth’s eight orbits old, I bet she’s going, retorted Terra.
- I happen to know for a fact that she’s not, said Lbbp over his shoulder as he strode towards the window. Now stay put, get some food from the manipulator, I’ll be back before you know it. And with that he opened the window, activated his bubble and floated off.
I bet they’d let Fthfth go if she wanted to, thought Terra. She’s the star pupil after all, and she’s not a stupid Ymn like me . . .
Oh terrific, thought Terra crossly, they’ve even got ME thinking it now.
Terra got up and stomped over to the table. She picked up her slate and started a game of one-player dks-wks but her enthusiasm failed her.
It’s not fair, thought Terra. They’ve all got this idea stuck in their heads that Ymns are dumb savages, but the only Ymn any of them has ever met is ME, and I’m not a dumb savage, am I? I’m as civilised as my friends, I’m as clever as my friends, I’m at least as polite as most of my friends . . . How not-dumb and not-savage do I have to be before people get over the idea that all Ymns are dumb savages?
She threw the slate down in frustration, and was immediately relieved to see it bounce harmlessly on the padded seat. Tantrums were all well and good but breaking her slate wouldn’t help. She picked it up and checked that it was still working.
Just how did this idea become so deep-rooted? she wondered. Why do Fnrrns dislike Ymns so much when they know so little about them?
With nothing much else to do to stave off the boredom of a day without games, Terra decided to do some research.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, and stroked the slate to activate it. She began an archive search: Ymn/Fnrrn interaction to the present day.
The search went back further than she’d expected; the astro-exploratory programme at the Ff-Shkrr Preceptorate in the nation of Gst-Sh-Kssk on the far side of Fnrr had first detected radio transmissions from Rrth nearly an era ago; since then the Ymns had been monitored by Fnrrn astronomers and xenologists from all over the planet.
She found articles filed by the first Fnrrn scientists to visit Rrth, including an accident report (and insurance claim).
She found a record of the first proposal to establish formal contact with Rrth, submitted by a team of scientists from Dskt some thirty orbits after the first discovery of the Ymns’ civilisation. It was turned down by their own Academic Council on the grounds that Ymns were not yet sufficiently ‘morally and culturally advanced’ to be exposed to Fnrrn technology. A similar proposal submitted some orbits later to the Hrrng Preceptorate was rejected for much the same reasons.
She smiled to see Lbbp’s name on a botanical survey. So long ago! He was older than he looked (or admitted to being). He had conducted a study of a densely forested area and enthused more than was entirely scie
ntifically appropriate about the richness and diversity of life-forms he’d encountered.
Her face fell to read Lbbp’s addendum to his own report. He’d appended it a few orbits later after returning to the same place and discovering it stripped, barren and deserted. He expressed his anger towards the Ymns who had done this in extremely unscientific language.
Terra read on; she found more and more reports from survey missions; papers by eminent Fnrrn sociologists and psychologists speculating on the possible underlying causes of the Ymns’ propensity for violence and intolerance; proposals to ‘rescue’ various endangered Rrth species and preserve them in captivity on Fnrr (this idea didn’t seem to have gone anywhere, to Terra’s disappointment – the idea that there might be a secret zoological reserve full of Rrth animals somewhere on the planet appealed to her greatly).
But what was this? An article marked ‘Secret’ which nonetheless had opened right up when she’d touched the title on her slate. Secret but not secret? How did that work? Intrigued, she read the heading:
PROPOSAL
Submitted 3.2/7 33-29
To: Academic Council, Hrrng Preceptorate.
Copies to: Department of Extraplanetary Affairs, Hrrng Forum
Specific Attention: Zft-sh-Ngst-sh-Shm, Preceptor; Jsht-sh-Flgst-sh-Thn, Director of Extraplanetary Affairs
Proponents:
Gsk-sh-Bthtf-sh-Pskt, Senior Postulator
Hrf-sh-Tstk-sh-Sffk, Postulator
Dfst-sh-Kshchk-sh-Lbbp, Postulator
Fnng-sh-Glkn-sh-Bddf, Postulator
Proposal to initiate population control measures with regard to species 676, hereinafter referred to as Ymns, dominant life-form of planet 6-66-724-41/3, or Rrth.
A knot formed in Terra’s stomach. She read on . . .
Previously submitted reports (see appendix 1.0 for full reading list) have established, in our opinion, the clear danger to interplanetary peace presented by species 676.
Ymns have already caused irreversible damage to the ecosystem of their home planet (see attached reports 1, 2). Ymns have a history of violent conduct towards each other and the other species of Rrth. They persist in eating animal flesh despite having developed nutritional techniques which make this unnecessary. They have created weapons powerful enough to destroy all life on Rrth.
Formal contact with Ymns is prohibited by order of the Forum and the Preceptorate Academic Council. Their own attempts at space exploration have thus far been primitive and limited to their own planetary system (see attached report 3). However, projections of future Ymn technological progress (see attached report 4) concur that Ymns will achieve the capability for interstellar travel within the next era.
We contend that such a turn of events would be catastrophic for interplanetary relations.
A virus has been developed by the micro-biological research hub at Hrrng Preceptorate. If introduced to the biosphere of Rrth it will reduce Ymn fertility by approximately six eighths. All other life-forms will remain unaffected.
The Ymn population will decline generation upon generation; within an era there will be less than one quarter of the current number of Ymns alive on Rrth. This will reduce their capacity – and inclination – to expand beyond their own planetary boundaries.
This procedure will be painless and entirely non-lethal – no Ymns will die, but considerably fewer will be born. Our actions will go undetected by the Ymns; they have not yet eradicated disease from their species and this reduction in fertility will simply be ascribed to a mysterious epidemic.
For full technical and chemical specifications, see appendix 1.1
Terra’s head spun. The knot in her stomach had become swirling nausea.
They were going to . . . They wanted to . . . The Fnrrns had considered culling the Ymn race. Not with traps or weapons, but with disease and sterility. The misery and confusion such a measure would have caused on Rrth . . . They hadn’t done this, had they? They hadn’t actually gone ahead with this horrific scheme? It was dated from before her own birth – had she been one of the few Ymn babies born on Rrth at that time?
She scrolled frantically to the bottom of the document.
PROPOSAL REJECTED 2.3/7 33-29 For full declaration see attached statement 1.1
She sighed with relief, although the nausea remained. Whose idea had this been? Who could ever have thought this was a good plan? She scrolled back to the top of the document.
Proponents:
Gsk-sh-Bthtf-sh-Pskt, Senior Postulator
Hrf-sh-Tstk-sh-Sffk, Postulator
Dfst-sh-Kshchk-sh-Lbbp, Postulator
Fnng-sh-Glkn-sh-Bddf, Postulator
Her eyes scanned across the names, the names of those ‘scientists’ who had wanted to purge her species like some sort of verminous infestation.
Her eyes stopped at the third name.
Dfst-sh-Kshchk-sh-Lbbp, Postulator
There was a metallic taste in her mouth and a buzzing in her ears.
Dfst-sh-Kshchk-sh-Lbbp, Postulator
The nausea rose up out of her stomach and into her throat. She dropped the slate, staggered to her feet and rushed towards the waste cubicle.
Dfst-sh-Kshchk-sh-Lbbp
She vomited violently into the waste scrambler and fell to the cold floor.
Lbbp
Terra found that she was clinging to the smooth surface of the floor with her fingertips.
Lbbp
Everything she believed, everything she depended upon, everything she loved, seemed to be sliding away from her.
Lbbp
It was all true, everything Vstj had said, everything Yshn had implied, everything everyone had ever said about her behind her back. It was all an experiment. Take a member of the most brutal and despised race in the universe, dress it up like one of your own children and see if you can educate the little animal. Teach it to speak, maybe even to perform some simple tasks. What was it Lbbp had once said?
- A bad scientist tries to prove himself right. A good scientist tries to prove himself wrong, and only when he fails does he conclude that he’s right.
So that was the idea. Propose that Ymns are so savage and primitive as to merit partial extermination, then test your own theory by trying to civilise one of them. Terra’s whole life had been an academic exercise, a follow-up experiment, just Lbbp being thorough like the good scientist he was.
- We don’t need to keep secrets from each other. That was something else Lbbp had said. - We don’t need to keep secrets from each other.
The throbbing in her head subsided enough to allow her to get to her feet. She wiped her eyes, sniffed and walked to the window. She tapped on the crystal and it slid open.
The city lay before her, illuminated by its own lights and three moons. It had never looked more alien to Terra.
She stepped out of the window.
3.4
Later that evening, Lbbp floated back towards home, tired and stressed. The emergency debate had generated much in the way of fear and apprehension and little in the way of hope. Mlml’s military commanders had declared themselves confident in their ability to repel a G’grk assault, but these assurances seemed hollow, perfunctory. The last hope now lay with the Dskt resistance; if they could keep the G’grk busy enough then the attack on Mlml might never come. Because if it did come, it was clear now that it would be unstoppable.
The debate would reconvene in the morning. Lbbp wasn’t likely to get much sleep tonight.
Lbbp noticed Terra’s bedroom window was open. He diverted his course towards it and stepped inside, deactivating his bubble.
- Terra? Why have you left your window open? It’s freezing in here.
No reply. Lbbp looked round for the child but couldn’t see her. There was a curious noxious smell in the air.
Terra’s slate was on the floor. She knew better than to leave that lying around, thought Lbbp. It was then he had the first inkling that something was wrong.
Lbbp picked up the slate and read. He got as far as the
heading ‘Proposal’. With a sudden lurch of panic he knew what had happened. How had she found it? And why, WHY hadn’t he mentioned it before?
He told himself not to be silly, he knew exactly why he’d never mentioned the proposal to her before. She would have reacted, well, pretty much how she HAD reacted.
She couldn’t have been gone for more than a few spectrums, and Lbbp was fairly sure he knew where she’d be headed. He just needed to find one thing first.
Rushing into his little reading room he found the shiny white travelling case. He wrenched it open and started to rummage through the contents.
Yes. Found it. His old field-scanner. And it was still working.
Lbbp passed the field-scanner’s strap over his shoulder, grabbed a spare power cell for his bubble, ran back to Terra’s room and leapt out of the window.
3.5
Terra had absolutely no idea what she was going to do next.
She’d been floating over the forests of Rfk when her gravity bubble’s power cell had started to fail. It made its warning pip-pip sound and began to descend. The current generation of gravity bubbles made sure to return you to the ground before completely losing power; a mandatory safety feature installed after a few foolhardy Fnrrns had pushed their luck and chosen to ignore the low power warning. Unpleasant for all concerned, especially those poor unfortunates who’d been underneath them at the time.
She’d made it to the beach, her toes brushing the treetops as she descended. Now she sat on the rainbow sand and gazed out across the triple-moonlit sea.
She knew she could never go home again.
And where was ‘home’ anyway? Lbbp’s apartment? Or ‘the lab’ as she now thought of it?
She peered up into the night in search of constellation 133-4/77. She found it easily in the clear black sky. Staring at the space between the two centre stars, she resolved to find a way back to her real home. Back to Rrth.