by C. J. Odle
“You’re here to ask me about my books,” she guessed before Sirius could ask its questions.
“Yes,” Sirius sent. “Perceptive.”
“The world is full of philosophers,” Professor Allen said, “and you don’t appear to be picking witnesses at random. If you picked me, it must be because of my particular specialty.”
“Indeed,” Sirius agreed. “Will you tell us the title of your last book, please?”
Professor Allen nodded. “It’s called Testosterone: The Hormone That Destroyed the World. Although I should probably point out that my publisher had more say in the title than I did.”
“The title is not important,” Sirius sent. “What matters is the content. Will you please describe the elements of your work?”
“My book explores the ways in which testosterone, and the aggression it promotes in mankind, has helped to fuel harm throughout much of human history,” Professor Allen explained. “My basic finding suggests a fundamental conflict between the moral and ethical standards put forward by almost every society and the aggressive tendencies resulting from testosterone. Indeed, in most societies, those standards are necessary precisely to counter those tendencies. In societies without sufficient internal standards, externally imposed moral structures might be needed, as societies giving in to those tendencies completely have usually been those who caused the greatest misery to the world.”
Sirius nodded. “Can you give some specific examples?
“Certainly. Take the British. Over the centuries, this one aggressive nation has invaded nearly 90 percent of the world’s 195 countries. An astonishing figure. Now, of course, both internal and external moral standards would prevent this from happening.” The Professor clasped her hands before continuing.
“And currently around the globe, there are over forty armed conflicts. War crimes are a common feature of these conflicts, where the most aggressive and ugly instincts of mankind are given free rein. In these situations, externally imposed moral and ethical standards are necessary to stop further atrocities.”
“Would you agree that testosterone encourages selfishness?”
“A certain degree of selfishness and competitive behavior is necessary for survival, but too much damages the community that individuals depend on.”
Sirius nodded. “Go on, Professor Allen, did you find a solution to this problem?”
“I explored the ethics of potentially reducing the testosterone levels of the species,” Professor Allen said. “There is an issue of freedom of choice and ‘naturalness’ to set against the need to do it. Although this type of eugenics is morally questionable, I did conclude that unless we deal with this physical element, nothing is likely to change in practical terms.”
“So in your expert opinion, you’re saying that mankind is incapable of living in harmony with both itself and the wider environment?” Sirius sent.
Professor Allen took a few moments to reply. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Tell me, Professor, would you say humans are a moral species?”
Again, the academic paused. “It would depend upon which moral standards you use, and which members of our species you then apply them to.” She sighed. “In general, though, no. Almost every approach to morality argues against the killing of other people, but there are still murders. There are also many arguments against the destruction of the world around us, the exploitation of others, and the manipulation of the weak, but humans have done that to each other throughout history and are doing so still.”
“Thank you,” Sirius pulsed before addressing the court. “So you see, humanity represents a danger to all around it. It does not live up to its own moral standards, and indeed it cannot. To do so would require fundamental changes in the species.”
Sirius stepped back to its narrow perch and edged onto it as Vega walked to the witness box to take over the questioning. Professor Allen loosened her neck scarf.
“Tell me, Professor Allen, can the destruction of an entire intelligent species be justified? Even if that species potentially represents a threat to everything around it?”
Professor Allen gave Vega’s words as much serious thought as she had the previous questions. It didn’t seem to touch her that she was discussing whether she and everyone around her could be morally killed.
“If ‘utilitarian’ is stretched to include other life-forms on this planet and beyond, there is certainly an argument in favor of what you ask,” Professor Allen said. “But we must also remember that utilitarian arguments can be used to justify acts we know to be evil. Why should I not murder a stranger to give away his organs to save more lives?”
“If we were to decide to remove humanity from this planet, would this action be considered moral?” Vega asked, the translucent fingers on its right hand rising and falling.
“An argument could be made, but I would think of it as a fundamentally immoral act with an untenable justification.” Professor Allen paused. “Which in turn brings up questions about the moral authority of a trial such as this. Essentially, you have declared your authority to convene this trial based on the social contract of Galactic Law, and have failed to demonstrate humanity’s implied consent.”
Vega nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”
Above the judge’s chair, the bright sphere of the Supreme pulsed like a heartbeat. No one there could guess what effect, if any, the philosopher’s arguments had had on it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jake and Sarah had been waiting in the circular control room for well over an hour. After first talking to Marina, they’d walked farther up the corridor and in less than thirty seconds had arrived at the sealed aperture. Jake had pulsed the door open to reveal the coruscating energy of the Pyramid on the pedestal in the center of the room.
It felt odd to be able to roam freely around the ship, but the aliens didn’t seem to care about their absence from the trial. They were just the insurance, the moral sop in the event of total genocide.
“Do you think we can actually pull this off?” Sarah asked.
That was the question. When Jake had contacted Marina again and she’d outlined Gemini’s plan to do another download, it seemed vaguely plausible. But that had changed when she’d started going into the details. How was he supposed to force an alien computer with his mind to delete the existing data and download a fresh batch? Let alone do all this and not be caught by the aliens. Still, he did his best to project confidence.
“What other choice do we have?” he asked.
“We could wait for the outcome of the trial,” Sarah suggested, her eyes widening.
Jake stopped and looked at her. “Could we really risk it, knowing what it would mean if we lost?”
Sarah shook her head. “No, I guess not.”
“Let me check in again.” Jake shut his eyes and concentrated.
Marina’s blue hair and porcelain face shimmered into his mindscape. Each time they communicated, the telepathic connection strengthened, although her voice remained faint.
“Jake,” she sent, “it’s time to try and interface with the computer. The guys think it should activate just through your psychic connection, but try to feel as much like an alien as you can.”
“That’s it?” Jake asked, incredulous.
“Yes,” Marina sent. “Then once you’re in, you can work out how to wipe the data it already has and, when we’re ready, to start downloading again.”
It didn’t sound easy. How would he even connect with the Pyramid in the first place? He took a deep breath and tried to extend his mind toward it as he did when communicating telepathically.
Nothing. The Pyramid flickered with light but gave no indication that Jake had affected it. He focused and sent a pulse of energy, the way he’d done to open the sealed aperture, and then tried forming a welcome and directing it across, but the alien computer remained untouched by his mind.
“Maybe there’s a password after all,” Jake said aloud. He decided to ask Marina, who quickly came
back to him.
“The guys say to try ‘password,’ ‘123456,’ and the names of the likely users. Yes, I know it sounds silly.”
Jake tried them, one by one. He tried to think of anything he’d heard about the aliens. He tried “Pleiades.” He tried “Startoucher.”
“None of it’s working,” he complained to Sarah.
Sarah took his hand in hers, and the sensation of her skin on his reminded Jake of why they were doing this. She lifted his palm and pressed it flat against the Pyramid.
“Now try.”
Jake wanted to argue that it couldn’t be so simple, but maybe it could. After all, the aliens touched the Pyramid sometimes when they operated it. He pulsed energy through his hand into the alien machine. The Pyramid flickered more rapidly and then began to glow.
Jake entered a pristine sapphire-blue dimension. His visionary space filled with thousands of grids of light stacked upon each other, each one containing an infinity of points.
He reached out again for Marina’s consciousness.
“I’m in.”
When Sirius called the president of China to the stand, the world held its breath. Even the one million people amassed in Tiananmen Square were silenced by the solemn expression on his face. The president stepped into the witness box and held the necklet in his hands but made no move to put it on.
“I do not recognize the authority of this court,” he said, shrewd eyes peering at the alien. “The only authority is the collective will of the people, expressed through the Party.”
“And do you truly believe that?” Sirius sent. “This is an opportunity to demonstrate it to your people. Say it with the necklet in place, and they will know you are serious.”
The president grimaced and put the necklet on, the blip of light circling above his red cashmere sweater and white shirt collar.
“You are the president of the most populous country on this planet?” Sirius pulsed.
“I am.”
“And you act for the benefit of all of those people?”
The president paused. “For as many as possible.”
“Including those who dissent?”
“There will always be those who act to undermine the most appropriate forms of government. Our form of communism represents the best—” the president fell silent as the words were choked off.
“And with this communism, is it not true that your country no longer clings to the ideals it once held?” Sirius asked.
The president looked around, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Because with your nation, and all others, the system put in place to try to overcome social inequality is changed by those with the greatest thirst for power.” Sirius turned to the pulsing sphere of the Supreme. “The same pattern has repeated itself throughout their history. A desire for a better way of living, followed by new groups assuming control and oppressing those controlled.”
He returned his attention to the president of China. “True or false, your cities are massively overpopulated?”
The president seemed to be regretting his decision to put the necklet on. “Yes.”
“And as a result, your pollution levels are among the highest in the world?”
“Our people have the right to advance,” the president said. “Why should Western countries go through the process of industrialization unchecked but then try and prevent us from following them?”
“What about the well-being of the environment?” Sirius asked, staring directly at the president without blinking. “Do you believe the type of rapid growth your country has experienced will be sustainable in the longer term?”
Another pause. “No.”
“Isn’t it also true that many other countries around the world face similar problems?” Sirius asked. “That many other places exist with cities growing out of control, where the water is poisoned, where the air itself is ruined by factories and unscrupulous businessmen?”
The president of China stood even more stiffly. “It is.”
Sirius addressed the court again. “Humans are a danger to this world. As a self-aware species incapable of evolving beyond their current stasis, humans are a danger simply by existing in such large numbers. Simply by wanting to be, and to have.”
Sirius walked slowly back to its narrow seat, its body stooped as though fatigued. The alien edged fully onto its narrow perch, and its thin legs once again dangled above the floor.
Vega got up and stepped to the front as the president of China tucked the loose collar of his shirt back underneath his red sweater.
“You’ve admitted that some of world’s cities have problems,” Vega sent. “Is it true that many countries, including your own, are investing heavily in trying to find solutions for those problems?”
“We are,” the president said, for once happy to answer.
“Is it also true there are now whole cities being designed to fit in much better with their environments?”
“It is.”
Vega went on. “You will, of course, acknowledge the significant challenges in building such cities when there are so many people on this planet?”
“I do,” the president said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a wan smile. “Believe me, no one understands the difficulties associated with such a large population as I do. Yes, I have both the responsibility and the privileges of power, but I am also interested in helping those in my country. I do not want poisoned rivers for my people.”
He looked Vega in the eye. “And now I have a question for you. Why have you not given us the means to overcome these problems? It is obvious from the way you dealt with the attacking planes, and from your presence here, that you have vastly superior technology. And, if what you say is true, you are also responsible for placing us here. So why have you done nothing to help your creation?”
Sirius cut in, not giving Vega a chance to answer. “This proceeding is not about us but about the potential threat mankind poses. Please confine your answers to this matter and nothing more.”
But the president had made his point, and he received no further questions from Vega.
Gemini had hacked many computers over the years. Government systems, obviously. The Pentagon’s e-mail was easy. But they’d done much more, partly to uncover everything they could about aliens, but mostly to test their skills and see what was possible.
They’d hacked research institutes and universities with supposedly secure encryption networks. They’d made a major retailer’s delivery drones play pass the parcel with fragile boxes, and hacked a GPS app to see just how far out of his way they could take the CEO who’d produced it before he resorted to using a map.
But hacking an alien supercomputer was new, and Marina could feel the guys’ excitement as their hands flew across the keys of their laptops like frenzied concert pianists. A small group of hardcore hackers worked alongside them, spread on the floor of the tent amid a tangle of cables. Connected to Jake, Marina had squeezed herself into a corner while she relayed the guy’s latest thoughts about how to perform the miracle required.
“I’m in,” Jake pulsed, the words loud and crisp in her mind.
“He’s gained access!” Marina exclaimed. “What should he do now?”
The assembled throng looked up as Billy swiped the hair from his eyes.
“He needs to delete the previous download.”
“The guys say try and find the old data and delete it,” Marina sent.
“I’m staring at layers and layers of grids, each one with thousands of tiny points of light. Any ideas?”
Marina passed on his message, and Gemini crossed their arms in unison.
“Nice,” Adam grinned. “So that’s the future of computing. One of those points must be the download, the alien equivalent of a file or folder.”
“It’s just a question of working out which,” Billy explained, blinking rapidly.
Marina sent across Gemini’s comments and then added. “Jake, this is a computer controlled by psychic aliens, so
maybe you just have to tell it what you want it to do.”
Billy and Adam uncrossed their arms and adjusted their baseball caps before tapping again furiously at their laptops. Jake would get in touch once he’d found the needle in the aliens’ haystack.
The army of hackers across the planet continued to attack the unsavory sections of the web, those dark pockets hidden away from an unsuspecting public. File by file, server by server, white hat hackers, black hat, blue hat, gray hat, and any other color you could think of, scrubbing out terabytes of dirty digital footprints.
Marina gazed through the front of the tent at the majestic alien ship perfectly still in the air and then scanned the groups of people clustered in the desert night. She started to worry. At first, the sheer excitement of Jake and Gemini’s plan had carried her away, but now her instincts told her that they should be doing nothing. Just being there for each other and waiting for the outcome of the trial would be enough.
Jake scanned the vast grids of light stretching across his mindscape as Sarah’s voice cut into his consciousness.
“Jake, are you OK?”
“I’m fine, but I need to find the download.”
“Try navigating in the way that you did to locate Marina.”
Sarah’s spoken voice was soothing, and her idea seemed like a good place to start. Jake put the focal point of his awareness on the top grid, and immediately he rose upward and started to fly high above it. He was looking down over a vast sapphire field with brilliant gridlines and intersecting points stretching in all directions. Jake focused on the horizon, and the grid moved slowly beneath him, and as he pushed his mind forward, the luminous lines began to race past, and he felt like an eagle streaking across the pristine landscape of the Pyramid.
He slowed down to look at the points of light. As he swooped lower, he could see that each had a tiny pulse, millions of points beating in unison, an immense living network of unfathomable beauty and complexity.