by C. J. Odle
“While your species has acquired greater and greater technology, it has not developed socially or ethically to nearly the same extent. As such, humanity represents a danger to the world it inhabits, and should it survive, it will represent a danger to every other world possessing life.
“Humanity stands on the cusp of expansion into the stars. It cannot be permitted to do so.”
Sirius looked from the Supreme to the witnesses. “In the course of these proceedings, you will hear about the destruction mankind has wrought. You will learn its limitations and its interests. On other worlds, the Startoucher experiment has succeeded. But on this planet, while the results have been interesting, the experiment has failed.”
The alien’s forehead furrowed as it turned back to the Supreme.
“Not a day goes by without humans killing one another,” Sirius sent. “Or without them destroying the natural life of this planet. Our previous experiments have shown that during the evolutionary cycle of a typical self-aware species, a decisive point is reached. Individuals must evolve to encompass the consciousness of the whole. Otherwise, individual actions will eventually prove fatal to survival.”
Sirius’s large black eyes regarded the witnesses as it pulsed its words quietly.
“Your aggressive tendencies have not changed. If your scientists make the next leap in war technology, a single bomb would be capable of obliterating your planet. What I am asking for is immense, but I would not ask it if I did not believe it would be to the benefit of life as a whole. If we do not act, many more species will suffer.”
The alien swung around to face the large screen above the console on the curved wall opposite the Supreme. Sirius made a small motion with its three-fingered hand, and a multitude of different images of Earth as seen from space appeared on the screen.
“I want to be clear that I have considered and understand the implications. I am asking for humanity to be removed from this planet. I am asking for the destruction of a species with more than seven billion representatives.”
Images of people flashed across the screen, but too quickly for the eye to fix on. There was a trick in that, Jake felt, letting the Supreme see that Sirius had considered the implications of what it was asking, without giving it enough time to focus on any of the individuals whose lives might be destroyed.
Sirius’s face looked grave as it finished its opening statement.
“Under current Galactic Law, established to allow the peaceful flourishing of diverse beings, there exists the provision to remove a self-aware species if that species represents a needless critical threat to other life-forms. Even if, as in the case with humans, that species is unaware of Galactic Law.”
Sirius pointed a long finger at the witnesses.
“Their tribe-group governments develop weapons with no thought of future consequences. This impulse, left unchecked, could one day lead to weapons almost on par with wider galactic technology. They poison their planet and strive for power in what remains. Supreme, I submit that humanity is too dangerous to be allowed to exist.”
“We will see,” the Supreme sent, and these words seemed to reverberate around the room, perhaps around the world.
Smaller, quieter echoes appeared in Jake’s mind.
“We will see.”
Sirius stepped to its narrow stool and sat down, the alien’s thin legs dangling above the floor. Vega got up and walked forward to address the room, and Jake leaned forward expectantly.
“Much of what Sirius has stated is true,” Vega sent, which wasn’t really the opening Jake would have gone for. You never did the other side’s work for them. Still, it could be a powerful opening, used well.
“Like Sirius, I formed part of the original team of scientists sent to seed humanity on this planet. I can understand Sirius’s disappointment.”
Vega paused, and Jake really hoped this was the moment when the alien would turn the opening statement around.
“Mankind has damaged the world on which it lives. It has warred in a way our people can barely comprehend. It is on the cusp of developing even more powerful weapons, and if it were to expand into the galaxy, it could prove a danger to all the species around it.”
Vega just seemed to be continuing in the same vein, and Jake fought to keep from speaking out. He could do a better job. What was he here for if not this?
“It is even true,” Vega said, “that our own calculations have not come out in favor of the species, predicting a 48.9 percent chance of decisive change.”
OK, he’d heard enough. Jake was going to—
“But percentages can change,” Vega went on. “And we do not wish to condemn a species over a percentage point. Thanks to the choices we’ve made to share our presence and this trial with humanity, if humanity is allowed to continue, it will do so with a much larger understanding of itself, its origins, and its potential. It will—”
“Objection!” Sirius bolted to its feet with the telepathic equivalent of a shout.
“The fact that humanity is watching this trial should have no material bearing on the outcome.” The alien gestured toward Vega. “This whole situation has been manipulated by my colleague.”
“Overruled,” the Supreme pulsed, its sphere of light expanding in a blinding flash to fill the room before shrinking back in size. “Sirius… you and the being known as Vega must live with the consequences of your actions. I will consider all factors before making the final judgment.”
“But—”
“Sit… sit… sit,” the Supreme’s voice echoed into a void.
Sirius’s slit mouth twitched as it stared at Vega, then the alien regained its composure and perched on its stool.
Vega pressed the three fingers of each hand lightly together before continuing. “If mankind survives, it will go forward knowing it is but part of a much more important whole. It will know what is expected of it, and why the galaxy requires it to be more than it currently is. Sirius will tell you about what humanity is. I want to speak about what humanity could be.”
It was an interesting argument. Vega had steered events around to revealing both the ship and the trial, and now the alien pinned its hopes on the Supreme contemplating the potential effect this would have on a future humanity. However, given human nature, this new knowledge of mankind’s origins and place in the pecking order of the galaxy could easily backfire, with governments uniting to develop a global defense capability to rebut outside interference.
The future was not provable and far too unpredictable.
Jake found himself thinking about another part of what the alien had said. About how percentages could be changed. Jake had learned many things as a lawyer. He’d learned the importance of only asking questions he already knew the answers to. He learned exactly how much pressure to put on people when it came to deals and when to accept a settlement.
Above all, he’d learned not to leave the result in the jury’s hand. While the jury might reach the right conclusion, they could just as easily get it wrong, no matter how well you presented your case. And Vega was playing a very dangerous game when it came to its case. It was admitting everything in the hope that it could be minimized by focusing on the future.
Why take the risk? You could always improve the odds. You found a procedural error to get the case thrown out, or a piece of evidence in hidden in the files. You took out as much randomness as possible. If you couldn’t fight a case with the gloves off, you probably didn’t deserve to be called a lawyer.
Jake could think of at least one way to manipulate the outcome if they were relying on the figures the Pyramid had given them…
But he saved that thought for later as Vega finished its opening statement.
“And we must remember that 48.9 percent is still nearly 50 percent.” The alien looked toward the witnesses. “Despite my colleague’s earlier comments about individual actions, there are many examples of altruistic behavior in the history of human civilization. The founding principles of most societies are fa
ir and just.
“Interesting and diverse cultures have emerged, celebrating the arts in multiple forms, and the average human citizen tries to live peacefully with their neighbors.”
Vega turned around and stepped to the large screen above the console. A series of images passed quickly in a slideshow: the Library of Alexandria; the Parthenon in Athens; the Taj Mahal in India; Petra in Jordan; Machu Picchu in Peru; and then modern cities, London, Mumbai, Mexico City, New York.
The alien waved its hand, and the images changed. The Mona Lisa appeared, Van Gogh’s Starry Night, The Kiss by Gustav Klimt, paintings by Picasso, Keith Haring, and other modern artists. Classical music could be heard as the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra appeared, then the Bolshoi Ballet and Italian opera, followed by snippets of Bhangra, K-pop, and rap.
Vega walked back across the room to directly face the Supreme.
“Humanity deserves the chance to fulfil its potential and become a responsible member of the Galactic community. We created this species, and therefore have a duty to help it evolve beyond its current crisis. Decisive change is possible. Supreme, we must allow humanity to survive.”
“We will see,” the Supreme again sent, the words echoing throughout courtroom and beyond.
As Vega stepped back to its seat and perched on the edge, Jake looked at Sarah and she smiled.
“What’s next?” Sarah whispered in Jake’s ear.
“Usually in our court system,” he pulsed, “the prosecutor calls their first witness. Although, here all the witnesses are supposed to be neutral.”
Sirius walked to the front and stood by the witness stand.
“I call the president of the United States of America.”
Chapter Twenty-One
On the screens around the world, the president of the United States stepped up to the witness box, as the Supreme dimmed the brilliance of its sphere to allow the human to stand in such close proximity. Sirius’s slender arms reached up to place a necklet on the president, a pulse of light slowly circling through the ring of clear crystal.
The majority of viewers had seen the president before. His speeches showed up on news channels announcing the latest actions the US would take. Deeply conservative, and a known hawk on defense, the president had a tendency in his speeches to blame the rest of the world for his nation’s problems.
For Jake, the experience proved more visceral. The leader of the free world poised on the metallic courtroom stand in front of billions of people. Both as a witness and also as one of the accused.
“Are you going to try to make me swear some kind of oath?” the president demanded once in position, with no sign of his previously calm and collected demeanor.
“No oaths are needed,” Sirius pulsed. “The necklet will ensure truth. You are the leader of the world’s most powerful nation. Please share your views on the destruction mankind has caused.”
“We haven’t caused destruction,” the president said. “We have…”
He paused, clawing at his throat, no words coming out. It looked very much as though the necklet was choking him. When it released, he gulped for air, and Sirius explained.
“The necklet will sense if you are attempting to deceive and will stop you from speaking. With this device, the court can verify that anything you do say will be what you believe is the truth.”
“You might as well be torturing the information out of me,” the president said, although his voice sounded more relaxed.
“No lasting harm will come to you,” Sirius sent. “And while the experience is unpleasant, it will not occur if you speak what you feel is the truth. I understand this may be difficult for you.”
It was the closest Jake had heard Sirius come to a joke.
“But since you are talking of torture, let’s start with this subject,” Sirius said. “Why do some on your world, including representatives of the government of the United States, resort to torturing one another?”
“Some criminal regimes might,” the president agreed. “But most nations have been clear about denouncing such actions. We have statements of rights ensuring that all those in the civilized world are safe from such behavior.”
Sirius nodded. “The civilized world, yes. So your country does not use pain or violence to extract information?”
The president straightened his black suit and regarded the strange creature in front of him.
“We use enhanced interrogation but we do not use tort—” The necklet cut him off.
“Please remember, what is important is the intent to deceive,” Sirius sent. “Shall we try something else? One of the key criteria the Pyramid analyzes is the management of a planet’s resources by the dominant species. This gives an accurate indication of the long-term sustainability of the overall ecosystem.”
Sirius glanced at the witnesses and turned back to the president.
“For how long now has it been known that fossil fuels are a finite resource? How long has it been known about the damage to the atmosphere caused by burning them?”
“The evidence is unclea—” The president choked again. He flared up in anger. “Fossil fuels are essential for our economy. They’re cheap, and trying to change over to some liberal solar power dream would ruin us all. We need to keep the lights on, damn it!”
“And, of course, you need fuel for your military vehicles,” Sirius pulsed. “Is it not true you spend much of your budget on ways to kill other members of your species? It is not also true that you possess weapons capable of killing hundreds of thousands, if not millions at once?”
The president didn’t even try to lie. “Yes. But they are necessary.” He glanced at his Chinese counterpart. “What do you think would happen if we laid down our arms? Do you think things would be better? Safer? I’ll tell you right now, China would run straight over us and conquer our country. If not them, the Russians. Hell, even the British might try to get their empire back.”
“And would it matter?” Sirius sent.
“Our people would lose their freedom!” the president sputtered. “They would stop living in a democracy and be ruled by dictators!”
“As opposed to being ruled by people with enough money to invest in their political campaigns?” Sirius asked. “Tell me about the laws you have passed in favor of businessmen that provide you with funds.”
The president ran his hand across his full head of hair and clenched his jaw before responding calmly. “OK, I concede that you may have a point.” He fixed the alien with a commanding gaze.
“Show me, show us, these examples of other species in your experiments who have societies with no violence and no corruption? So far you’ve shown us no proof.”
Sirius stared at the human for a few seconds and then turned around to face the large screen on the opposite wall. The alien waved a three-fingered hand, and a cloud of pink interstellar dust came into focus on the screen.
“The Merlutians in the Lagoon Nebula. Approximately five thousand light years from Earth.”
The viewpoint zoomed into the interstellar cloud and then panned across thousands of stars before rushing toward a blue planet turning slowly on its axis. The image fell through the light-blue clouds of the upper atmosphere and then down into an immense ocean of turquoise water, plunging for miles until reaching the ocean floor.
Vast underground cities of pyramidical and octagonal structures could be seen, built in a crystal-like material and glowing with light. A strange being floated into focus, its octopus-like head pulsing with neurons and firing flickers of light along its numerous limbs. More Merlutians drifted into view, and pulses of energy passed silently from one to the other.
Sirius turned back to an astonished president.
“The Merlutians used to be a very aggressive species, but when they reached the decisive crisis point, an acceleration occurred in their capacity to empathize. This solitary change informed the trajectory of their future evolution.”
The alien again faced the screen and gave a small wave of its
hand.
Another planet came into view, with enormous mountains of rock and ice towering above green-hued clouds. Huge birds circled around the top of the tallest peak, crying out, and then the image dropped through the clouds to reveal a vast panorama of a multilayered megalopolis.
“The Altairians,” Sirius explained, “used to war among themselves all the time. Then a technological breakthrough created an entirely new method of self-governance.”
An assembly hall appeared on the screen, not unlike the meeting room of the United Nations. A tall being stood at the front, and the image zoomed in to show a tailless reptilian body with a large head. The Altairian held in its scaly hand a small computer device, and hoisted it up for the thousands in the audience to see as it explained its function in a guttural language.
Sirius pointed at the screen. “An Altairian scientist developed artificial intelligence that helped individual members of a community make decisions to benefit the whole. Initially adopted in small cities, it was eventually rolled out across the entire civilization. All citizens have an equal vote on every decision. This has removed the need for politicians. So far, it’s been very successful and has revolutionized their culture.”
The courtroom once more appeared on the screen as Sirius faced the president.
“These are just two examples; there are many more. Now let us get back on topic.”
The president looked pensive as Sirius fired another barrage of questions.
“Can you name one system of governance in humanity’s history that has not resulted in corruption and abuses of power? Democracy, monarchy, ideology, oligarchy, and autocracy all have failed, have they not?
“Your government has known about the existence of life from other worlds since two of our colleagues crashed their craft and died here in 1947, yet this information has only been shared with the military. Why?”
It went on and on, and it didn’t get any better. Sirius asked about the divisions between the rich and poor. About the number of people starving, and the role of bankers in the recent financial meltdown. The president wasn’t a stupid man, but he clearly floundered when faced with the wide-ranging scope of the accusations. All the small inequalities people lived with from day to day, the alien brought out into the open. All the things they saw on the news and then forgot about, it wouldn’t let go.