by James White
Federation World
James White
While James White is best known for the Sector General series, he has written many more science fiction novels. This is one of his best, easily equal to any of the Sector general series. The book is set in a near future after humanity’s contact with aliens. The aliens offer to relocate all of mankind who qualifies to the Federation World, a Dyson sphere near the center of the galaxy. The principal characters are not accepted for citizenship, instead qualifying for positions on the Federation staff. Their job is to make contact with new species and to invite them to join the Federation if they qualify. White’s writing is remarkably clear and easy to read.
James White
Federation World
To Walter Willis whose example some forty years ago, and on many occasions since, made a young fan artist realize that words can say more than pictures
in Appreciation
A Del Rey Book
Published by Ballantine Books
First Edition: June 1988
Cover Art by David B. Mattingly
Chapter 1
THE building was a white cube twenty stories high with a broad flight of white stairs leading up to the quietly impressive entrance on the second floor. From past experience Martin knew that the stairs retained their perfect whiteness no matter how many hundreds of people climbed them and that the sign above the entrance, which read FEDERATION OF GALACTIC SENTIENTS EXAMINATION AND INDUCTION CENTER, projected the same message regardless of the language or degree of literacy of the person viewing it.
He had not had the opportunity of speaking to a blind candidate for Galactic citizenship, but presumably he or she would have received the message in some other fashion.
As he began to climb, Martin saw that there were just three other people on the stairs-a young couple, working students judging by their age and dress, and an old man who was obviously much too frail to work. The oldster’s face had the anxious, stubborn look of one whose life on Earth had become untenable for a variety of reasons which forced him to try for something better, or at least different. The young couple climbed briskly and confidently, as if they knew what to expect at the top. Like Martin they had probably been here before and had had second thoughts. Unlike Martin they now seemed to have made up their minds.
Not wishing to get into a discussion with any of them, Martin held back to allow the others to precede him.
Going through that entrance was still a shock, he thought, and always would be no matter how often he did it. There was no physical sensation, just the shattering realization that one had arrived in the center of an enormous reception area with a transparent roof, and that it was not on the second floor but the twentieth. Like the perpetually white stairs and the omnilingual signs, instantaneous matter transmission was just another piece of technological intimidation aimed at making the backward Earth people more amenable.
The reception area was carpeted and furnished in warm, relaxing shades of gold and green and brown, and covered with random groupings of chairs and reading desks. All but a few of the chairs were empty, and the desks were heaped with Federation literature. Three of the distant walls were covered by large pictures, each of which showed a stylized, almost heraldic, representation of one of the member races of the Federation of Galactic Sentients. There were close to two hundred of the pictures ranged around the three walls and, so far as Martin could see, none of them was duplicated.
Along the wall facing him, like a row of unmanned reservation desks at an air terminal, were the examination computers.
By the time he reached them the old man had been passed through, and he could hear the young couple talking quietly to the visual display unit of the examiner. But they were several desks away and Martin could not tell whether they were asking or answering questions. Then suddenly they lifted their hands from the top surface of the unit and moved around the desk to disappear through one of the two doors beyond it, the door bearing the symbol which appeared on all of the Federation’s literature and equipment. He had been watching the successful candidates so closely that he walked into the outer edge of another desk.
The display unit lit up, and the words which appeared on it shone white against a field of deep green.
GOOD AFTERNOON, SIR. PLACE ONE HAND ON THE UPPER SURFACE OF THIS UNIT AND STATE YOUR REASONS FOR WISHING TO BECOME A CITIZEN OF THE FEDERATION OF GALACTIC SENTIENTS. PLEASE RELAX AND TAKE ALL THE TIME YOU REQUIRE.
Martin looked at the examiner, at the large, smooth cube whose only features were its display screen and the ever-present Federation symbol centered on top, and kept his hands by his sides.
He said, “I have studied the brochure and have asked questions not covered by it on two previous occasions. I do not want to waste your tune.”
THANK YOU. SIR. PLEASE PASS THROUGH ON THE RIGHT AND USE THE UNMARKED DOOR.
For a moment he thought about passing on the left and going through the other door, the one bearing the symbol of a black diamond with rounded sides set in a circle of silver, and which looked so much like a single, alien eye, then he discarded the idea. During his last visit he had tried to do just that and found himself without warning at the foot of the entrance steps, with prospective candidates looking anxiously at him in case they, like himself, might be expelled as temporarily or permanently Undesirable.
The induction centers had attracted a large number of Undesirables in the early days. There were stories told of individuals and groups who had tried to exert physical or psychological pressure of various kinds with a view to organizing private armies on the new planet. And there had been the more simple, direct types who had wished merely to dismantle, remove, and study the Federation equipment for its weapons potential. The response in all cases had been nonviolent, but salutary.
At the first sign of tinkering, either with the minds of the candidates or the induction center equipment, the offenders were moved-teleported-a distance of a few miles. The more persistent or aggressive ones found themselves suddenly on the other side of the planet, without their weapons, equipment, or clothing.
Martin considered himself at worst a borderline Undesirable, so he went through the unmarked door.
He found himself in a small room which, judging by the view from the window, was on a much lower level of the building. The room was bare except for the desk containing the examiner at its center, and the display screen was partially hidden by a female candidate standing before it. She turned her head briefly to look at him, then returned her attention to the screen.
She was tall, slim, dark-haired, with a firm and mature face and skin so smooth and unblemished that her age could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Like the heavy, dark-rimmed spectacles she wore, her clothing was functional rather than decorative. Nevertheless, and in spite of what the examiner might decide about her as a candidate, Martin would not have described her as Undesirable.
“No, I am not frightened by your advanced technology,” she said quietly in answer to a question Martin could not see, “nor do I consider it to be magic. Your miracles are superscientific, not supernatural, in spite of the symbolism of the entrance stairs and the near Heaven you are offering us. But I keep wondering why you try so hard and often to impress us with this technology.”
Martin edged sideways until he had a clear view of the screen, upon which appeared,
IT IS OUR POLICY TO TAKE EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO DRIVE HOME THE FACT THAT THE ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY EXISTS. WHETHER OR NOT YOU HAVE OCCASION TO USE IT. OR HAVE IT USED AGAINST YOU IN THE FUTURE. DISTANCE WITHIN THE GALAXY MEANS NOTHING TO US. NEITHER ARE THERE ANY PROBLEMS OF TRANSPORTATION, SUPPLY. ACCOMMODATION. OR LIVING SPACE ON YOUR NEW HOME. WE ARE CAPABLE OF TRANSPORTING YOUR ENTIRE SPECIES. ALL OF ITS
ARTIFACTS, DOMESTIC ANIMALS. LARGE NUMBERS OF NATURAL FAUNA, VEGETATION. AND EVEN THE ENTIRE GAS ENVELOPE OF YOUR PLANET WERE IT NOT SO POLLUTED AS TO BE SCARCELY BREATHABLE.
THAT TECHNOLOGY ENSURES THAT NO FEDERATION CITIZEN LACKS FOR ANYTHING IN THE PHYSICAL SENSE. WHAT THEY DO WITH THEIR MINDS IS THEIR OWN BUSINESS PROVIDED THE END RESULT OF THEIR THINKING DOES NOT INTERFERE WITH THE FREEDOM OF OTHER CITIZENS, EARTH-HUMAN OR OTHERWISE.
“I know, I’ve studied the brochure,” she replied sharply. “But I’m concerned about the long-term effects of such mollycoddling. Surely there is the danger that the whole race will vegetate, stagnate?”
YOU HAVE NOT STUDIED IT CLOSELY ENOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. THE INTENTION IS NOT TO FORCE YOU INTO IDLENESS BUT TO ENABLE YOU TO ACHIEVE YOUR FULL POTENTIAL. ALL INTELLIGENT SPECIES FEEL IMPELLED TO WORK AND BUILD AND THINK CONSTRUCTIVELY. HOBBYISTS, FOR EXAMPLE, FREQUENTLY DEVOTE MORE TIME AND EFFORT TO THE WORK WHICH INTERESTS THEM THAN TO THEIR SO-CALLED PROPER JOBS. BUT FEDERATION CITIZENS DO NOT WORK BECAUSE ANOTHER INDIVIDUAL TELLS THEM TO DO SO. NOR WILL THEY BE OVERPROTECTED. YOUR PEOPLE WILL STILL DIE BECAUSE OF OLD AGE, ACCIDENT, OR DISEASE. AND IF ANYTHING IS DONE TO CHECK THESE PROCESSES, IT WILL BE YOUR DOCTORS AND RESEARCHERS WHO DO IT. YOU MAY REQUEST FEDERATION ASSISTANCE WHENEVER YOU NEED IT, BUT THE REAL WORK WILL STILL BE DONE BY YOU.
IS IT STILL YOUR WISH TO BECOME A MEMBER OF THE FEDERATION?
“Y-Yes,” she said.
THERE IS HESITATION. HAVE YOU MORE QUESTIONS?
She nodded, then said, ‘Two, perhaps unimportant ones. You communicate with us pictorially or by projecting written language. Why do you use written rather than oral language? Also, it was twenty-two below zero and snowing heavily at my local induction center half an hour ago, and I left my protective clothing with the…”
THE QUESTIONS ARE UNIMPORTANT BUT THEY WILL BE ANSWERED. WE ARE CAPABLE OF PROVIDING AURAL TRANSLATIONS OF OUR COMMUNICATIONS. BUT THE TRANSLATION PROCESS ROBS THE WORDS OF MUCH OF THEIR EMOTIONAL CONTENT AND MAKES THEM SOUND, TO YOUR EARS, HARSH AND UNFEELING. THERE IS THE PROBABILITY THAT YOU WOULD BE LISTENING FOR EMOTIONAL TONES AND NUANCES. OR HIDDEN MEANINGS, WHICH MIGHT CONFUSE YOU AND DISTORT THE MESSAGE. VISUAL PRESENTATION OF THE WORDS REDUCES THIS PROBABILITY.
REGARDING YOUR PROTECTIVE CLOTHING. IF YOUR APPLICATION FOR CITIZENSHIP IS UNSUCCESSFUL YOU WILL BE RETURNED TO YOUR LOCAL INDUCTION CENTER. IF YOU ARE ACCEPTED FOR CITIZENSHIP YOU WILL NOT NEED THEM.
PASS THROUGH ON THE RIGHT AND USE THE UNMARKED DOOR.
Martin saw her shoulders droop with disappointment, but otherwise she remained motionless. She said, “What would happen if I were to be directed through the other door?”
ALL OF THE MARKED DOORS OPEN INTO THE FEDERATION WORLD WHICH WILL BE YOUR NEW HOME, SPECIFICALLY INTO ONE OF THE REORIENTATION CENTERS. THEY ARE THE DOORS USED BY SUCCESSFUL CANDIDATES. THE UNMARKED DOORS ARE FOR THE NON-CITIZENS.
“Dammit, what’s the difference?”
NON-CITIZENS DO AS THEY ARE TOLD.
She opened her mouth to ask another question, but the examiner’s screen had gone dark. She looked at Martin, tried to smile and said, “Good luck.” The unmarked door closed behind her before he could reply.
QUESTIONS? The word appeared on the screen as soon as his palm made contact with the sensor plate.
The letters were white on bright red, he noted. The first examiner’s screen had been a restful shade of green and its conversation polite, even friendly, while the words he had seen projected onto this screen had been curt and downright critical at times. Perhaps the examiners were becoming impatient.
Martin wet his lips and thought, So non-Citizens do as they are told… This datum suggested that the Federation was something less than a perfect social organization since it contained lower grade or second-class citizens.
“The previous candidate asked some of the questions I had intended asking,” he said to give himself time to think and, he realized suddenly, because he was honestly curious. “Is it permitted to know her name and background?”
ONLY IF YOU ARE BOTH ACCEPTED AS CITIZENS OR NON-CITIZENS INTENDING TO WORK ON THE SAME PROJECTS. MY SENSOR INPUT SUGGESTS THAT THE QUESTION YOU WANT TO ASK IS NOT THE ONE BEING VERBALIZED. THIS IS A FORM OF DISHONESTY AND IS WASTEFUL OF EXAMINATION TIME. IF YOU REQUIRE MORE TIME FOR CONSIDERATION, YOU MAY RETURN LATER.
The green screen had told him to take all the time he needed, but this one was rushing things to say the least. Did the red screen imply a warning of some kind? Was he about to be failed?
POLITENESS AS WELL AS INDECISIVENESS IS ALSO A WASTE OF TIME. YOUR MANNER IS UNIMPORTANT. SPEAK HONESTLY. THE SENSOR PLATE IS NOT A TELEPATHIC DEVICE. BUT IT WILL REGISTER THE SLIGHTEST DEVIATION BETWEEN YOUR INTENTIONS AND YOUR WORDS.
IF YOU CANNOT ASK QUESTIONS, THEN VERBALIZE YOUR FEARS OR SUSPICIONS. AND REMEMBER THAT 1 CAN OFFER YOU NO VIOLENCE, SO DO NOT BE AFRAID. THE MOST I CAN DO IS DECLARE YOU UNSUITABLE FOR CITIZENSHIP
Martin felt himself begin to sweat. Why could he not simply accept everything he had been told and ask to be a Citizen? The standards for acceptance were unclear but, judging by the large numbers and types of individuals who made it, they could not be so high. Unless there was something inherent in his personality which rendered him unsuitable, something which was registering on the examiner’s sensor plate?
“Why do so many others qualify?” he asked suddenly. “Oldsters, children, people of average intelligence and below, or those with no particular skills or training? Some of them were accepted at first examination in less than fifteen minutes. I saw it myself.”‘
DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF SUPERIOR TO THEM?
He felt his hand sweating on the sensor plate and he thought, Be honest. Truthfully, he replied, “Superior to some of them. But why are they accepted?”
THEY ANSWER QUESTIONS. YOUR TYPE. INDIRECTLY OR OTHERWISE. ASK QUESTIONS. YOU ARE ABOUT TO ASK ANOTHER.
“Very well,” Martin said angrily. “Considering your advanced technology and its potential for giving virtually unlimited assistance, why must we leave Earth to join the Federation?”
THIS IS COVERED IN DETAIL ON PAGES 7 THROUGH 18 OF THE BROCHURE.
“I know, I know,” Martin said, wondering why a mere device, no matter how sophisticated its design, should make him feel like taking a sledgehammer to it. Was the examiner merely a terminal of an advanced computer as the brochure said it was, or was he taking their word for that, just as the unquestioning, unsuspicious, ordinary, and successful candidates for citizenship had taken it? More calmly, he went on, “I fully realize that our solar system is very far removed spatially from the center of galactic science and culture and that, because of your advanced transportation systems, this separation is more important psychologically than physically. But surely if we were to remain on Earth, our contacts with other Federation cultures would be more gradual, and natural?”
REFER TO PAGES 21 THROUGH 25.
Perhaps there was not a multi-tentacled Federation Citizen controlling the examiner as Martin had begun to suspect. It was behaving like a computer now, one which had been programmed by a bunch of extraterrestrial bureaucrats.
“I have studied those pages closely,” Martin said patiently. “Earth is a very sick planet. Polluted, overpopulated, and denuded of natural resources to such an extent that in a few decades starvation and war will result in virtual genocide, according to your people. You are probably right. But why, with the incredibly high level of technology which you are so fond of demonstrating to us, don’t you simply cure our sick planet? Forcing our people into premature contact with alien cultures could be dangerous.”
DOES THE PROSPECT OF MEETING EXTRATERRESTRIAL INTELLIGENCES FRIGHTEN YOU?
The sensor plate was clammy against his palm. Give an honest answer, he reminded himself, because if you do not, then this damn thing, whether it is a device or a front for a Citizen examiner, would be aware of it.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Chapter 2
THE screen remained blank,
projecting an angry red rectangle on which he expected the words of rejection to appear. Not only was his palm on the sensor plate sweating, but he could feel sweat beading his forehead and trickling down from his armpits. And still the screen remained blank.
He continued staring into it, and, because those events were so much on his mind, he began to form mental images on the blank red surface of the arrival of the stupendous Federation ships…
They had made no secret of their arrival. Upward of two hundred mighty vessels, ranging in size from three hundred yards to three miles in diameter, had taken up positions in synchronous orbit above the equator to hang like a blazing necklace of diamonds in Earth’s night sky. Within the hour, they had identified themselves and given the reason for their presence.
The people of Earth were being given the opportunity of becoming Citizens of the Federation of Galactic Sentients. Examination and induction centers would be set up forthwith, and it was expected that the majority of the planet’s inhabitants would pass these examinations and move to a world which had no pollution, power, population, or food supply problems, where there were no deserts or arctic wastes, and where every square mile of the new world’s land surface was or could be made fruitful. To cushion the shock of first contact and to avoid the initial, and natural, feelings of xenophobia all communication between the Federation people and Earth candidates for citizenship would be by printed word only.
The invitation had appeared at hourly intervals on every TV screen in the world, and there was no way, short of switching off the set, of blocking the message. And when the big, white cubes which were the twenty-story induction centers appeared on pieces of empty ground convenient to the most populous areas, they could not be stopped either.
