by Dean, Warren
It was as if no-one feared anything any longer. The warning that the serum did not make people invulnerable had fallen on deaf ears. Billions of people now believed that they would live forever. They would never have to answer to a higher power for their actions. Spiritual doctrines lost their purpose and the world's religions no longer had any influence over the behaviour of their adherents.
Claiming a share of the planet's dwindling resources became the overriding protocol driving humanity. Governments and individuals alike threw the rule of law onto the scrapheap and employed whatever means they had at their disposal to protect what they had, or to take what they didn't have. Society was breaking down and savagery was filling the vacuum. Panic stricken governments fought criminal warlords for control of their nations. Nuclear weapons had not yet been employed but, given the shocking proliferation of violence on the planet, it was only a matter of time before humanity's most destructive weapons were unleashed.
Not for the first time, Vi wondered what had gone wrong. When the expedition had first arrived on Earth, its civilisation had been fractious, but stable. On the whole, humanity had responded positively to first contact. It had been happy to accept new technology from its unexpected benefactors. There had been some unpleasant confrontations, such as the Russo-Chinese skirmish in Mongolia, but those had blown over. The doomsayers who had warned of impending catastrophe had eventually been silenced by a complete lack of supporting evidence. Even when the expedition departed, things had been relatively calm and peaceful. Only afterwards did the situation go downhill.
Not surprisingly, Analyst Ko had expressed the view that the humans' innately violent nature was to blame and that they had been destined to self-destruct sooner or later. The contact expedition had nothing to do with it.
Human civilisation had existed, in some form or another, for about seven thousand years. In all of that time it had survived and prospered. And yet, nine months after the visit of its first extra-terrestrial visitors, it had shaken itself apart. It seemed an unlikely coincidence.
Ko had an explanation for that too. Until relatively recently, humans did not have weapons powerful enough to do serious damage to the planet or to affect significant numbers of people. But in the last hundred years or so they had developed bombs, missiles and biological agents capable of wiping out millions. In that time they had come dangerously close to ruin a few times; avoiding disaster more by luck than by design. But their luck had run out. Even though they had been given a glimpse of a better way of life, they had clung to their tradition of conflict and aggression.
Vi thought that Ko was being deliberately provocative. His forthright views had set off a furious argument. Was human civilisation worth saving? Was the expedition responsible for its predicament? Opinion was sharply divided. The intellectual school of thought was that contact had inevitably changed the course of human history; a butterfly effect of sorts. Had there been no contact, it may have followed the same path to destruction, but then there would have been no debate about responsibility. Having chosen to interact with humanity, the older race was now duty bound to do what it could to repair the damage.
More popular was the notion that the humans had been gifted technology which they could have used to better their way of life. Their election to cause harm instead was their own doing and could not have been anticipated by their benefactors.
The Ancient Council had been non-committal; it had expressed concern for the welfare of its newest client race, but had stopped short of resolving to intervene.
Vi decided to test her new status as saviour of her species by composing a missive supporting the call for rescue ships to be sent to Earth. She suggested that their crews include mediators who could work on resolving the larger conflicts. This would hopefully restore some semblance of normality to the planet and give its governments an opportunity to restore law and order.
Initially, she sent the missive to the governors of her reproduction centre with a request to pass it on to the Planetary Council. They received it politely and promised to give it their consideration. She waited a while for a response, but nothing was forthcoming. Instead, she was summoned for an evaluation by the centre's psychoanalysts. One of the questions they asked was how she had been receiving news of what was happening on Earth. Duty bound to disclose her sources, she did so. Her supply of news promptly dried up and she spent many days in frustrated limbo, desperate to know what was happening but having no way of finding out.
The conventional wisdom of the reproduction centres was that its females should be distracted from their primary purpose as little as possible. A peaceful and harmonious environment was maintained at all times and contact with the outside worlds was strictly controlled. Anyone or anything which could, in the opinion of the governors, have a negative effect was kept out.
Most of the females in the centres were young and idealistic. They were content with their allotted lifestyle, never having been exposed to any other. But Vi had been schooled as a translator, had accompanied Ambassador Ba's expedition to Earth, and had experienced the teeming planet's diverse cultures, ideas and personalities. She was no longer content to sit beatifically in what she had begun to think of as a prison. She knew that she could not leave, at least not until her usefulness as a test subject was at an end, but she was determined to participate meaningfully in the debate about Earth.
After concentrating on modifying her aura enough to convince the governors that she was serenely content and had given up her effort to participate in planetary matters, she resolved to aim for a higher target; the Ancient Council itself. It might not be swayed by her missive, but at least she would have the satisfaction of getting her point across.
First she had to think of someone conservative enough to be permitted to visit her, but who would be prepared to break the rules for her. There was only one candidate; her old mentor Master Za. She knew him well enough to know that, despite outward appearances, he was a rebel at heart. The idea of defying the authorities by delivering a controversial missive to the Ancient Council would appeal to him. So she sent him a graciously worded invitation to visit her when he had the time. She loaded it with simpering banalities; a strategy with a dual purpose. It would convince the governors that she was suitably compliant and, more importantly, would bring Za running to find out whether his favourite scholar had taken leave of her senses.
He arrived two days later, an uncertain expression on his face. For a while she kept up the pretence, chatting superficially about her life at the centre. Any of the governors listening in would be pleased. Then, when she saw a look of mild alarm settling over his face, she winked at him, slowly closing and then opening one of her large green eyes.
"Master Za, have one of my sweet pastries," she said before he could say anything and give her away. She passed one to him on a small tray, her slender fingers curled demurely underneath it. "I baked it myself. You will be surprised when you taste it."
She wasn't wrong. When he bit into it she could almost see the amazement which lanced through his aura. She had mixed a liquid data stream into the filling and, when he swallowed it, her missive to the Ancient Council scrolled unbidden through his mind. He grimaced, which reminded her how much he disliked ingestible media. He hated having data fed directly into his brain by an intelligent liquid.
She hoped he would forgive her for the discomfort when he realised the purpose of her subterfuge. As long as he didn't give anything away, he could pass on her missive to the Council and the governors would be none the wiser. After they had finished their inane conversation, he gave her a slow wink, which she took as a signal that he would carry out her plan. When he left her, he was grinning broadly, clearly amused by the plan she had hatched to hoodwink the governors.
For days afterwards, Vi waited on tenterhooks for some reaction. The governors were unlikely to be pleased when they discovered what she had done, although she didn't think they would dare punish her. She was a national heroine after all and any
unkind treatment would be dimly viewed by the citizens of Azura. She was less confident about what the Ancient Council might do. It would have less compunction about censuring her if it viewed her sentiments as unwelcome or inflammatory.
But there was no reaction at all. At first she wondered whether Za had changed his mind and decided not to help her after all. But that would be unlike him; he was usually meticulous about keeping his promises.
After a while, she surmised that the Ancient Council must have elected to ignore her. It was a sensible response from the council's point of view; by ignoring her, it gave her opinion no official recognition or publicity. Hers remained just one voice among many; some advocating intervention on Earth and others opposing it.
Disappointed, but determined not to give in, she began considering what else she might do. But there were few options. Anything said or done within the centre would be suppressed. Any request to leave the centre would be refused on the grounds that she was in a delicate condition. And she wouldn't be able to send out any more missives via Master Za. The governors were not likely allow him anywhere near the place.
As the days rolled serenely by, frustration set in. She heard no outside news except for the carefully tailored version approved by the governors. And she couldn't think of any way of getting herself or her views out of the centre. She began to think darkly about escaping, sneaking out one night and disappearing into the city. But then what? Where would she go and what could she do? As a fugitive, who would take her seriously? Anyone she contacted would simply report her whereabouts to the centre. She would be gently returned there, the governors making soothing comments to the effect that her recent experiences had left her emotionally exhausted. Any public credibility she had built up so far would be in tatters.
When relief from her dissatisfaction finally arrived, it came from the most unexpected source she could have imagined. Late one night she received an urgent summons from the master of governors. She was more than a little startled; he did not usually conduct business in the middle of the night. The only explanation she could think of was that the Ancient Council had finally decided to do something about her missive. Feeling abashed, she pulled on her yellow-brown shimmer-robe and hurried through the dim corridors of the sleeping quarters and across the gardens towards the administration building.
The main doors were already open and she was surprised to see the master himself waiting for her. His aura was like thunder; he was clearly angry about something. He didn't speak, simply turned and walked towards the principle meeting chamber. Wondering how much trouble she was in, she followed him, barely resisting the urge to drag her feet.
The plush chamber was dimly lit and she couldn't help glancing surreptitiously around. This was where the affairs of the centre were conducted. It had banked seating on all four sides of the room, surrounding a central podium used to chair convocations. The seats were all empty and there was only one other person in the chamber; a thin, slightly stooped figure in a blue-green shimmer-robe. She felt slightly relieved; she had been expecting to see an array of disapproving faces. Then she saw who the other person was and her heart sank.
Analyst Ko was standing at a small interface module set into the podium, studying holographic data. When he heard them approaching, he deactivated the holograph and turned. She could see from his aura that he was weary; the weariness of working long hours. The master of governors began to say something but Ko interrupted him with a dismissive gesture. "Thank you, master, you may leave us."
The master began to object. "It is not usual for females in our care to be left alone..."
"She will not be alone, master, she will be with me."
"Ah, of course, I suppose it is permissible in the circumstances."
Ko didn't reply.
"I shall wait outside," the master continued uncertainly. "Please do not hesitate to call upon me should you need anything." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
Vi was puzzled by the exchange and surprised that the master had backed down so quickly. How was Ko able to wield such authority over the master of a reproduction centre? And what circumstances were they talking about? If the Ancient Council was unhappy with her missive, surely it would have simply instructed the governors to censure her. Why was Ko involved at all?
The analyst studied her for a moment before he spoke. He seemed distracted, as if his attention was focussed elsewhere. "I trust you are well?" he asked politely.
"As well as I can expect to be," she replied cautiously. Courtesy was not one of the analyst's strong points and lent an almost surreal air to the night's events. "Is this about my missive?"
He looked at her blankly. "I don't know anything about that," he replied, reverting to his more usual brusque tone. "I am here on behalf of the ambassador."
It was her turn to look blank.
"Ambassador Ba," he said, failing to keep a note of exasperation from creeping into his voice. "The Ancient Council has authorised a second expedition to Earth. The ambassador has been tasked with commanding it. A fleet of ships is being assembled on Primefall and will depart soon."
Vi's heart leapt in her chest. At last, something was being done to help the humans. Perhaps her missive had served some purpose after all. "I am very pleased to hear that. But why have you come all the way to Azura to tell me this?"
"The ambassador has requested that you be permitted to accompany the expedition and the Ancient Council has authorised it. Have the governors not informed you?"
She was stunned by the revelation. It certainly explained the master's sour mood.
"You will resume your previous post as head translator, of course," appended Ko, mistaking her silence for indecision.
"I, er..." was all she could say.
"Well, I don't have all night," groused Ko. "If you are intent on coming, fetch your belongings and meet me at the gate. I have a 'pod waiting to take us to the spaceport. We must leave immediately."
Vi wasted no more time. She left the room at a dignified walk, skirted the master of governors who was seething silently in the corridor, and then ran the rest of the way to her quarters. She hadn't fully realised it before, but this was what she had been waiting for; an opportunity to get out of the centre. A chance to go back to Earth had been beyond her wildest dreams, but it was suddenly a reality. How the ambassador had arranged it, she couldn't imagine.
She didn't bother packing all of her belongings. There wasn't much of consequence and it could easily be sent on later. But there was one thing she was determined not to leave behind. She drew a slim storage receptacle from the bottom of her closet and lifted the lid. Folded neatly within was the blue-green shimmer-robe she had worn on Earth. The governors had pursed their lips disapprovingly when she had brought it with her to the centre. Ordinarily they insisted that females entering the centre put their old clothing aside, but Vi made it clear that she would complain vociferously if any attempt was made to relieve her of the memento. At the time, she was the centre of a great deal of attention and the masters decided to let her keep her garment rather than risk public criticism.
She threw a few other items into the receptacle and then hurried through the deserted corridors of the centre towards the entrance. There she found a waiting 'pod, Ko fidgeting impatiently within. The 'pod pilot took her receptacle and stowed it in a luggage compartment while she slid into one of the passenger seats. Then the 'pod took off and sped towards Azura's small spaceport.
The pilot had obviously been told to hurry; she could sense the telekinetic exertion within his aura as he powered the 'pod rapidly across the night sky. She glanced out of the window and watched the speckled city lights whip by below.
When they reached the spaceport, she and Ko transferred into a waiting shuttle, which blasted off almost immediately. She just had enough time to secure her storage receptacle within a luggage rack and strap herself in. There were only a few other passengers aboard, all male of course, who ignored her completely. Once the sh
uttle had left the planet's atmosphere, she caught a glimpse of the familiar bulk of a star ship in orbit. When they got closer, she was thrilled to see that it was none other than Emissary. She still thought fondly of the studded black sphere as her home from home.
The shuttle floated smoothly into a docking bay. Her stomach lurched as the ship's artificial gravity took hold. She released herself from her seat and retrieved her luggage. Then she followed Ko and the other passengers onto the ship's reception deck. Without sparing her a backward glance, Ko headed for the bridge deck, vanishing up the nearest levitation-well. She decided to stay with the other passengers; Emissary had its own translator and she did not need to step on his toes just yet. She would wait until they rendezvoused with the expedition at Primefall before taking up her station as head translator.
The ships' com chimed, signalling that it was ready to leave. She and the other passengers rode a 'well to one of the passenger decks, where they strapped themselves into travel-pods. Her luggage she stored in a compartment set into the floor below her pod. Like the shuttle, Emissary had very few passengers aboard, most of them in the purple-pink shimmer-robes of analysts. She glanced down at the yellow-brown robe she still wore and resolved to change into blue-green as soon as possible. Perhaps then the other passengers would deign to acknowledge her.
Looking around at the largely empty cabin, it seemed almost as if Emissary had been sent primarily to collect her. If that was so, she was touched that the ambassador had gone to so much trouble and expense to make sure she joined the expedition. She wasn't aware that he valued her so highly. Perhaps it was because she was relatively well known on Earth and he wanted as many familiar faces as possible involved to assure the humans that the intervention was in their best interests.