by C. J. Odle
At last, Sirius finished. “We have heard Vega claim mankind can become more than it is. This witness is the leader of the most advanced and most powerful nation state on Earth, yet his testimony only proves how difficult it would be for humanity to avoid destroying itself and the planet. This world leader refuses to acknowledge climate change and admits that his government is corrupt.
“Humanity has not fundamentally changed during the last few thousand years. It still retains the same basic instincts, but now possesses far more dangerous technology. I have no further questions.”
Sirius gave a small nod to Vega as it stepped back to its narrow seat and sat down. A few of the witnesses stretched and got comfortable in their assorted chairs as Vega walked slowly toward the president. The Supreme pulsed a range of colors across its expanding and contracting sphere and then returned to white light.
“My colleague has stated that humans do not focus enough on the needs of the whole,” Vega sent, “but in fact the evidence often shows the opposite. Can you tell the court the total federal budget for the last fiscal year?”
The president relaxed and his face regained its authoritative composure.
“Certainly, 4.3 trillion dollars, give or take a cent.”
“Can you also tell the court the percentage of that amount spent on Medicare in addition to Social Security and unemployment?”
“Around 60 percent, nearly 2.6 trillion dollars.”
“That’s a very large percentage. So all that money goes toward helping those over sixty-five, those with disabilities, and the needy to have access to heavily subsidized medical treatment, and to help people who are having difficulty finding work, plus other social care programs?”
“Yes. That’s right,” the president said, warming to his theme. “We are a caring society, and these figures prove that. We like to look after the vulnerable and needy. There is a strong tradition of charity and giving in our culture.”
“Would you like to provide some further examples?” the alien pulsed, and spread its three-fingered hands in invitation.
The president drew himself taller and cracked his neck, his strong jaw becoming even more defined.
“Well, take education, for instance. With most universities, including Ivy League schools, full scholarships are available to those who are talented but lack funds. There are also a wide range of grants and awards. And let’s not forget private philanthropy; some of our most successful businessmen have donated the majority of their wealth to foundations set up to pioneer new medicines and reduce poverty.”
“You mentioned philanthropy,” Vega pulsed. “The Pyramid analysis revealed this rising over 4 percent during the last twelve months in all nine categories of recipient organizations, including religion, the environment, animals, the arts, and international affairs. Why do you think this is?”
The president smiled. “More and more people want to do their best to help, even if just with a few dollars. The collective will is there. Your figures again demonstrate the charitable nature of our society and prove that, as a nation, we do care about each other.”
Vega turned to face the bright pulsing sphere of the Supreme.
“Despite difficult economic conditions, donations from the citizens of the United States to help the wider community increased over 4 percent last year.” The alien gestured toward the president.
“This man’s government spends more than 60 percent of its annual budget on projects that directly help the old, infirm, and needy. These two figures of 4 percent and 60 percent provide concrete and irrefutable proof that individuals do care about the needs of the collective. I have no further questions.”
“What?” Jake shouted aloud. Where were the questions about the ability to work together, the need to strive to understand the universe? What about the money put into medical research, the ideals of the Founding Fathers, or even perhaps a follow-up to the alien’s opening remarks about the flourishing of the arts?
After the alien’s telepathic communication and the President’s civilized replies, Jake’s outburst seemed impossibly loud. He was abruptly aware of the attention of everyone in the room shifting to him. Possibly everyone around the world.
“You have no place in these proceedings. Please remain silent,” Sirius pulsed.
“Humanity is on trial, and I’m a human,” Jake sent back. “Besides, I wouldn’t accept this from a public defender working on a misdemeanor, let alone a trial of this scale.”
“Even so.”
The Supreme’s authoritative voice cut through it all. “Sirius, do you have any further questions for this witness?”
“No,” the alien replied.
“The witness is dismissed,” sent the Supreme. “There will be a break now before the next witness. The being ‘Jake’ may wish to speak with the being ‘Vega’ during this time.”
Not exactly a rebuke, but certainly a reminder to follow court protocol. Jake wouldn’t have tried what he’d just done in a human court because of a guaranteed slap down from the judge.
The president looked weary as he walked back to his stately brown chair still wearing the crystal necklet. The large screen above the console went blank, and while the other witnesses broke apart for a few minutes, Jake glanced at Sarah and then stepped over to Vega.
“You cannot interrupt the trial, Jake,” Vega sent. “Sirius will argue it is not a fair proceeding, which could prejudice our case.”
“Why didn’t you question him further?” Jake pulsed. “I can think of a dozen more questions you could have asked.”
“And those would have worked,” Vega sent back. “If he were able to lie or tell half-truths. If Sirius hadn’t been able to come back and question him again.”
“I don’t agree. For instance, what about the flourishing of the arts?”
The alien frowned. “The current government spends nearly one thousand times more money on the military than it does on the arts. And the current president wanted to abolish the National Endowments for the Arts, the main arts organization.”
Jake threw his hands up in the air. “OK, freedom of speech, then?
“According to the Pyramid, six corporations control over 90 percent of American media. How would that have looked when Sirius confronted the president with the facts?”
The alien had a point, but even so, Jake felt it should have questioned the president more.
“You’re not fighting your corner hard enough,” Jake insisted.
Vega spread its hands in surrender. “It isn’t about fighting, Jake. The aim of our trial is to establish the truth.”
“Even if the truth means the death of everyone on the planet?” Jake pulsed.
“I need to prove to the Supreme that hope exists for your species,” Vega sent. “I found two key indicators from the Pyramid data that supported this, and that the president could talk about truthfully.”
Again, Jake could see the alien’s point, but it still didn’t feel like enough. He couldn’t remain a helpless observer while Sirius built up its case. He couldn’t let the trial run its course while his whole species teetered on the brink of extinction. As soon as this last thought entered his head, Jake knew he must act and do whatever he needed to ensure that humanity survived.
Vega had spoken before about the odds not being in mankind’s favor. Jake was going to change those odds, and he knew exactly where to begin.
The courtroom flickered to life on the large screen, and Sirius called Dr. Gardener, the world’s leading particle physicist. He got up still wearing his lab coat, and adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses as he stepped toward the witness stand. Sirius handed him the crystal necklet, and he examined it carefully before putting it on, the open ends of the circle fusing behind his neck. Unlike the president, he seemed intrigued by the experience, and his relaxed expression revealed no fear about telling the truth.
“Tell me, Dr. Gardener,” Sirius pulsed, the flat tone of its words broadcast across the world in nearly seven thousand languages,
as well as appearing directly in the minds of those in the courtroom. “What would you say is humanity’s most important trait?”
Dr. Gardener didn’t hesitate. “That would be our curiosity. We have a need to know about the universe around us, often simply for its own sake. Most animals will not give up resources or food to learn more about the world, but we will.”
“This curiosity has led to many technological advances, hasn’t it?” Sirius continued, its eyes narrowing slightly.
Jake could guess where this line of questioning was leading. He was more concerned with how he could set his plan in motion. He couldn’t do it here, but would he be able to simply wander around the ship? He’d taken chances in other places, other trials, but never in a situation with so much at stake.
“Our technology doesn’t seem like much compared to yours,” Dr. Gardener said.
“But you have reached space, and are looking for ways to expand into your solar system. Within a few generations of your species, it is possible you will do so successfully. Once this is achieved, the next step will be to travel to the galaxy beyond.”
“You must have a much clearer idea about our potential progress,” Dr. Gardener said, taking off his glasses and wiping them with his lab coat, “since you know what is involved. But if I had to guess, then yes, I would say it is likely to happen eventually. Especially now that we know intelligent life exists on other worlds.”
“You have also achieved significant advances in other areas,” Sirius sent, glancing at the witnesses. “The gas engine, power stations, intensive farming. You are familiar with the research on your planet’s changing climate, Doctor?”
Dr. Gardener nodded. “I am.”
“Isn’t it true that humanity has done untold damage to this planet? That it has already caused the extinction of many other life-forms? That its actions threaten to permanently alter the environment?”
“That is true,” Dr. Gardener admitted, peering at the alien.
“So the research that arises from your curiosity is often put to selfish and violent use,” Sirius continued. “For example, many of your species’ scientific advances have been turned into weapons.”
“Only a few,” Dr. Gardener corrected.
“Your own field of physics,” Sirius insisted, its slit mouth twitching, “was used in this. Mankind found out about the subatomic universe and immediately used it to craft bombs to destroy cities. You learned about bacteriology and used it to make biological weapons. Computational power increased, and now there are people trying to work out how to shut down the infrastructure of enemy nations. Would you not agree that mankind’s defining trait isn’t curiosity but rather its inclination to destroy?”
It was a compelling point, powerfully made, and despite himself, Jake found it difficult to disagree.
“I guess there’s a case for saying that,” Dr. Gardener said, frowning slightly.
“There is a case for saying much more,” Sirius insisted. “The evidence suggests that mankind has gone beyond the point of no return. It is heading toward its own destruction, and the only question is how much of the galaxy it takes with it.”
Sirius stepped back to its seat and glanced at the two presidents, while Vega got up to walk slowly to the front.
“Sirius spoke about climate change. Dr. Gardener, is this change inevitable?”
Dr. Gardener considered the question for a moment. “At this stage, some degree of change is almost certain.”
“Almost?”
“It is already occurring,” Dr. Gardener said. “But the worst-case scenarios might not come to pass.”
“What would it take to avoid them?” Vega sent, the long fingers on its right hand rising up and down.
Dr. Gardener pursed his lips. “Probably the near-total cessation of the use of fossil fuels for industry, along with changes to farming methods, the common diet of large parts of the world, and approaches to transport.”
“So radical changes to the way you live,” Vega sent. “But not impossible.”
“No, not impossible.”
“And the technologies Sirius mentioned. Is it not also true that, in recent years, more and more focus has been put on technologies relating to the climate and the environment? On both renewable energy and climate science?”
“Yes, that’s true,” Dr. Gardener said, unbuttoning the top of his lab coat. “It’s taken a threat of this scale to motivate us, but we are beginning to learn more about the planet and ways to protect it.”
“Is it possible for mankind to reverse the damage it has done?” Vega asked.
Dr. Gardener took his time before answering. It was what Jake would have wanted from an expert witness, a sense of considered authority, with each question being taken seriously.
“It’s possible,” he said. “We would need to find a way to reverse the damage to the atmosphere; although, in the long term, the ecosystem of the planet may be self-correcting. And we’d need to find ways to bind more carbon. We already have the means to bring back some species. So yes.
“It wouldn’t be easy. It might even be unlikely, if you think about the problems of doing it while meeting the needs of an expanding population, but it’s at least theoretically possible.”
The alien waved a thin translucent arm in the air. “And over the course of human civilization, surely technology and scientific discovery have more often than not had a beneficial impact?”
“That’s correct,” said Dr. Gardener. “For instance, take medical care and its effect on life expectancy. I think I’m right in saying this has doubled over the last century. Many dangerous diseases have been eradicated, and our understanding of sanitation has completely transformed.”
Vega nodded. “Yes, a hundred years ago, the global average life expectancy was just thirty-one. Now it’s over seventy. Some countries in that time frame, like South Korea, have gone from just twenty-three to more than eighty.
“Finally, may I ask, why did you decide to become a particle physicist?”
Dr. Gardener adjusted his glasses and sighed.
“I wanted to understand the universe and share those discoveries with the world.”
“Thank you, Dr. Gardener,” pulsed the alien before turning to the Supreme. “No further questions.”
Sirius made no move to leave its narrow chair.
“The witness is dismissed,” sent the Supreme, a range of colors flickering across its brilliant sphere of light.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jake knew this witness break would be the ideal time to sneak out of the courtroom. Vega and Sirius were working side by side at the console, pressing crystal buttons. Each crystal released a ribbon of colored light that spiraled upward toward the ceiling. The two presidents and the pope chatted amiably, and Amita and Paige continued to fill up their borrowed notebook. Professor Allen was congratulating Dr. Gardener on his performance in the stand and studying his crystal necklet. The shaman swayed quietly in his hammock, and the sphere of the Supreme pulsed dimly, expanding and contracting in muted shades of light.
“It’s now or never,” Jake sent to Sarah.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain later. Follow me.”
Jake pushed himself off the couch and, keeping his gaze down, stepped quickly across the middle of courtroom floor. Sarah followed in his footsteps, and as they reached the entrance, the door glided open. Jake turned left into the corridor and put his finger on his lips to indicate no talking. They walked along the crystalline tube until the telepathic presence of the two aliens and the Supreme faded completely from his mind.
Sarah hugged him. “How do you think things are going back there?”
She looked concerned and obviously needed reassurance, but he wanted to be honest. “This… I don’t think this is going our way,” Jake said aloud.
“You don’t know that for certain,” she said, running her hand through her hair.
Her voice carried a note of defiance, of wanting it to be true, a
nd Jake could feel this mirrored in himself. But wanting it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t just be a passenger on the sidelines while Sirius sliced its way through the witnesses and Vega failed to muster a robust defense. He reached out psychically toward the courtroom again, but he didn’t feel any telepathic sense of the aliens or the Supreme.
“I can see the way things are going,” Jake said, his voice quieter. “I know how trials work, and it’s obvious who’s gaining the upper hand. Sirius is just a better lawyer than Vega.”
“You’re being a little harsh,” Sarah said, but without much conviction.
“And then there’s the business of balancing our chances with the Pyramid,” Jake said.
“That’s going to be hard to ignore, unless…”
“Unless what?” Sarah asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Unless there were a way to affect it.”
“You mean those hackers you met, don’t you? Jake, even if it were possible, think about what you’re saying. You’re planning to interfere with a trial where billions of lives are at stake.”
“It’s nowhere near a fair trial anyway,” Jake insisted. “We haven’t been given time to prepare, we’ve had no choice about our lawyer, and the witnesses have all been selected by the prosecution. We’re the equivalent of the petty criminal who gets the worst public defender because they can’t afford better, and who then ends up against some hotshot junior DA looking to make a name.”
She crossed her arms. “What happens if we get caught?”
“It won’t matter,” Jake said. “We know the actions of humanity during the trial have no bearing on the Supreme’s judgment.”