Federation World

by James White

  “During that time,” Beth went on, “the race will probably not die out, but there will be a high incidence of cancers, sterility, mutant births, and drastically reduced resistance to disease and wound infection. They may never be able to rise again, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they’ll have the descendants of the First’s bull-boys riding on their backs if they even try. They don’t deserve any of this, especially not the First’s plan for them.

  “You should disperse his organization to centers all over Keida,” she ended vehemently, “not allow him to keep it intact. Break your promise to him, dammit. In these circumstances no sane, ethical being would think any the less of you.”

  “No,” Martin said quietly. “I have special plans for the First and his organization. They will no longer be able to affect, or infect, the other Keidi.”

  It was the doctor who spoke first.

  “You disappoint me, off-worlder,” he said. “Is this the great wrong whose doing so troubled you?”

  “Yes,” Martin said, still looking at Beth. “I want you to prepare the transmitters for the immediate transfer…”

  “I’ve already done that,” she said impatiently.

  “I mean,” he said quietly, “the orbital transmitters.”

  It was obvious from her deathly pallor and the sudden fear in her eyes that she had already guessed what was in his mind but, for the benefit of the recorders, he went on to tell her exactly what he wanted done so that there would be no possibility of misunderstanding.

  The doctor, sensing that something was wrong, moved his horn uncertainly from one to the other but did not speak.

  “You’re mad,” she said angrily, “if you’re not joking. You’re breaking every rule in the book. Worse, you’re breaking rules that are so basic that they didn’t even think it necessary to write them! Opening all the induction centers to Undesirables was bad enough, but this!. I don’t think there is a precedent, or a punishment, for what you’re doing. Demotion and loss of non-Citizen status, psychological reconstruction, maybe even reclassification as Undesirables. I just can’t imagine what they will do to us.”

  “To me,” Martin corrected.

  “To us,” she said firmly. “I have no better answer to the problem. Maybe the hypership will refuse to transmit an illegal instruction tike this, I hope.”

  “Try,” Martin said.

  Beth swung around, played a brief, silent composition on her console and said, “Federation hypership One Seven Zero Zero Six requesting immediate reactivation of circum-Keida matter transmission network, all units.”

  The intership communication screen lit at once with the reply.

  STATE PURPOSE AND AUTHORITY.

  She looked at Martin, giving him a last chance to change his mind, then said firmly, ‘The emergency evacuation of remaining Keida planetary population, currently awaiting transfer from equatorial continent induction centers, to the Federation World. Authority, non-Citizen Contact Specialist MJC/221/5501, Level Three and non-Citizen Ship Handler ECM/221/4977, Level One.”

  REQUEST REFUSED. AUTHORITY INSUFFICIENT

  The reply did not seem to surprise her. She changed her approach and said carefully, “Information requested. Am I correct in thinking that a high level of computer mentation is necessary to coordinate the (ie.: materialization, transmission over interstellar distances, and reassembly without distortion of the individual atomic particles which comprise a planetary population, food and draught animals, selected artifacts, and vegetation? All data on the present emergency will be transmitted. Is the level of mentation sufficiently high to evaluate and check present planetary geophysical data, current and predicted long-term radiation effects on the population concerned, and the nonmaterial factors involved, specifically the political, ethical, and emotional considerations peculiar to intelligence bearing organic life forms?”

  FOR YOUR INFORMATION THE LEVEL OF MENTATION IS AT LEAST THE EQUAL OF THAT OF A HYPERSHIP MASTER COMPUTER. PRESENT THE DATA.

  The reply appeared in supposedly unemotional white characters on a black screen, but Martin could imagine icicles forming under each and every letter. Beth had told him on several occasions that the more highly evolved the computer, the more susceptible it became to the human or other-species influences such as flattery, criticism, or a professional challenge.

  For a very few seconds the hypership spoke in its highly compressed language and the mattran coordination computer listened, and Martin held his breath.

  DATA EVALUATED. PROPOSED SOLUTION CONTRAVENES CITIZEN EXAMINATION AND INDUCTION PROCEDURE. REFER REGULATIONS 1. 4. 7 THROUGH 18. AND 145A. COUNTER INSTRUCTIONS ARE ACCEPTABLE ONLY FROM A SUPERVISOR LEVEL ONE OR ABOVE. REQUEST REFUSED. INSUFFICIENT AUTHORITY.

  Beth looked briefly at the master screen, where the sensors were reporting increasing levels of seismic activity and of mental distress among the Keidi inside their quaking centers. The most optimistic forecast for the eruption was only a few hours away, but it could happen at any time. With a visible effort she curbed her impatience and spoke as one highly intelligent, responsible, but utterly emotionless computer to another.

  She said, “The data supplied was intended simply to inform you of the complexity of the problem. A solution was not requested since many of the factors involved, the sometimes illogical and emotion-based thinking associated with the nonmaterial aspects of their lives, place it beyond your level of competence. The problem can be fully appreciated, and a solution provided, only by another organically constructed computer or computers of Supervisor or Planner level empowered to modify or temporarily rescind the regulations being contravened. This is an emergency situation with insufficient time to seek the advice or permission of organic superiors. The solution must therefore be provided immediately by subordinates assuming full responsibility and temporary authority. Activate the orbital transmitters forthwith.”

  The reply did not appear for nearly three seconds, which was a very long time for such a high-level computer to consider its response.

  WARNING REGULATIONS 1 AND 4 SPECIFICALLY FORBID THE INTRODUCTION OF ANY INTELLIGENT LIFE FORM OR FORMS INTO THE FEDERATION WORLD WHO HAVE NOT BEEN CLEARED BY THE INDUCTION CENTERS, AND WITH PARTICULAR REFERENCE TO BEINGS CLASSIFIED AS UNDESIRABLE. ACTUAL OR ATTEMPTED CONTRAVENTION OF THESE REGULATIONS AND ALL ATTENDANT CIRCUMSTANCES WILL BE REPORTED TO SUPERVISOR LEVEL FOR INVESTIGATION. EVALUATION, AND DECISION REGARDING DISCIPLINARY ACTION TOWARD THE BEING OR BEINGS RESPONSIBLE IN THIS INSTANCE THE REPORT WILL NOT BE TRANSMITTED UNLESS OR UNTIL THE INSTRUCTION TO CONTRAVENE THESE REGULATIONS IS CONFIRMED.

  “A nice, considerate computer,” Beth said softly. “It’s offering to let us off the hook, giving us time for second thoughts. Maybe we should…” Martin shook his head.

  “Your original instruction,” Beth said, in a human and very frightened voice, “is confirmed.”

  REACTIVATING ALL UNITS. PLANETARY MAT-TRAN NETWORK OVERRIDE ON. INTERSTELLAR MATTRAN INTERFACING WITH INDUCTION CENTER TRANSMISSION ROOMS. AWAITING DESTINATION COORDINATES.

  Chapter 31

  THE interstellar matter transmitters, which had remained dark and inactive while three generations of Keidi had grown to maturity on the planet below them, blazed suddenly with light. During the Exodus hundreds of them had encircled Keida like a dazzling string of jewels which shone so brightly that night had become a soft, gray twilight.

  Now there were only the ten which had remained in orbit, to accommodate those Keidi who were expected to try for Federation citizenship from time to time. A combination of pride, independence, hostility, and, in recent years, the guards and labor camp of the First Father.had kept them inactive, but ten of them were more than enough to handle the transfer of the present Keidi population.

  Martin said, “They’ll have to go to one of the areas allocated to warm-blooded oxygen breathers with similar gravity and atmosphere requirements, but with enough distance separating them to avoid premature contact with…”

  “Do I understand you correc
tly?” the doctor broke in harshly. “Are you going to move my people from this, our home planet, to an alien and dangerous world? One that is already populated by strange, frightening, and perhaps hostile creatures whose effect on the Keidi is unknowable. And you would do this without asking their permission or giving prior warning? You are doing a great wrong, off-worlder.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Beth said tiredly. “But there is nothing to threaten you on the Federation World, unless it is some of your own people. And yes, that is what he intends unless you can make him change his mind.”

  To Martin she went on pleadingly, “We are considering contravening Rule One, but we haven’t actually done anything yet. If we changed our minds even now, the supervisor might consider this a temporary aberration in a couple of otherwise responsible non-Citizens. It was bad enough letting the First blackmail you into keeping his organization intact, so that his particular form of poison could reinfect all of Keida. But now you’re going to infect the Federation World itself with that same poison. I can’t even imagine what they will do to us for that. Think, please. There must be another answer.”

  “We both know that this is the only answer,” Martin said quietly. To the doctor he went on, “The Keidi will be told exactly why and where they are going and what to expect when they get there. We owe them that much, at least, for precipitating this disaster…” “But Regulation One…” Beth began. “I know, I know,” Martin said impatiently. “It states that no intelligent being who has not passed through an induction center and qualified as a Federation Citizen or non-Citizen in Federation service may be transferred to the Federation World, nor may he, she, or it be given information about the World. I think the last part was probably included so as not to make the Undesirables feel too bad about what they were missing, it being considered kinder not to tell the damned too much about heaven.”

  Beth shook her head. “Couldn’t we move them temporarily to the north and south continents? It would be rough on them, especially on the very old and young, but only for the time necessary to explain the situation to the supervisor and get permission to…”

  “If permission was not given,” Martin broke in, “and we, through a combination of moral cowardice and inaction, had to leave the Keidi here to degenerate physically and culturally on their contaminated planet, I don’t dunk we would feel very proud of ourselves.

  “While I’m talking to the refugees, let them see what is happening to their planet right now,” he went on, “and be ready to project the Federation World visuals to all centers.”

  “Except the First’s?” Beth asked.

  “All centers,” Martin said. “I have a promise to keep.”

  He talked slowly and simply and without making any attempt at verbal dramatics, letting the inputs from the visual sensors do that for him as he described the present plight and the probable fate of the Keidi people should they remain on their home world. While he spoke Beth projected the terrifying, three-dimensional pictures of the great chasms that were beginning to open up in their forests and fields, splitting or swallowing up or demolishing newly built shelters and the old, pre-Exodus buildings alike.

  He spoke of the north and south continents which were free of earthquakes but, because Keida did not have the axial tilt which would have given seasonal changes, remained cold and virtually barren, requiring pre-Exodus levels of population and technology to make them habitable. This was the reason why the Keidi had gravitated to the now. doomed equatorial continent and the Estate of the First. He reminded them of the words of the First and the doctor when they had been describing the short- and long-term effects of radiation exposure. He told them that Keida was no longer a suitable home for its people, and that when they moved into the matter transmitter compartments they would be transferred to another world.

  It was a world where the soil was fertile, the temperature and climate mild, and the territory available to them and their descendants unlimited. It was the world where the pre-Exodus Keidi who had qualified for citizenship and their descendants now lived and flourished. In centers all over Keida the interior lighting dimmed, and he showed it to them.

  Beth said softly, “Just let the First try to take the credit for that!” The doctor made an untranslatable noise so high-pitched that it might have come from one of the First’s child trainees, and Martin had to stop talking for a moment because the sight, although familiar to him, was still enough to take his breath away.

  In all the projection screens there blazed a picture of the countless suns which crowded the center of the galaxy, except, that was, for the one place in the middle of the picture where there hung a featureless, black diamond shape which absorbed the light all around it like a gigantic, three-dimensional shadow.

  “This,” Martin said, “is the Federation World…”

  He went on, trying to word the explanations of what the World was and how it was made, so that even the younger Keidi, untutored as they were in astronomy and astrophysics would understand.

  As the view from interstellar space was replaced by sharply detailed pictures of the interior, Martin tried to describe its topography and environmental variations, its incredibly advanced technology, and, most importantly, its reason for being.

  “… The primary purpose of the Federation is to seek out the intelligent races of the galaxy and bring them to this place of safety before they perish in some natural catastrophe or in some unnatural manner devised by themselves. In this world they will grow in knowledge and in numbers and, in the stillness of time, they will intermingle and share the fruits of their respective cultures. Ultimately they will be capable of achievements unimaginable to the most advanced minds among its present-day Citizens,

  “But it will be a slow, natural process,” he continued, “free of any kind of physical force or mental coercion. While the Citizens are climbing to the technological, philosophical, and cultural heights, they must be protected from those who, like a slow growing, insidious malignancy, would warp and weaken and ultimately destroy them from within. That is why the examination and induction centers were set up on all the inhabited worlds discovered by the Federation, to exclude the troublemakers, the power seekers, the intelligent predators who prey on their own kind, and so it was on Keida.”

  Martin paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Beth was staring at him, her face looking white and pinched. The doctor’s eyes were on the screen. Neither of them moved.

  “After the Exodus,” he resumed, “the only people remaining on Keida were these Undesirables and those Keidi who would have qualified for citizenship but for reasons of their own elected to stay. Since then two generations of Keidi have been born, many of whom would have qualified for citizenship had they not been prevented by force or misinformation from visiting the induction centers. But now the Keidi who remain are in danger and there is no time for the usual examination and selection process. It had been decided that, rather than allow the potential Citizens to share the fate of the Undesirables, everyone who chooses to do so will be moved to the Federation World.”

  He had to give them a choice because the Keidi were proud and independent to a fault, but they were not stupid. Martin sighed and took the final, irrevocable step.

  He said briskly, “Will everyone who has chosen to go please form into groups of twenty persons or less and move with your possessions into the matter transmitter compartments. Don’t worry about being separated, everyone who is presently occupying a center will be sent to the same destination. Shelters and basic needs will be fabricated and supplied shortly after your arrival…”

  He ignored the attention signal winking impatiently on the comm panel. The First was trying to talk to him.

  “… Since you have not been accepted as Federation Citizens,” he went on, “you will be placed at a sufficient distance from the descendants of the Keidi who preceded you so that you will not be able to meet or influence them until such contact is mutually desired. But the distances separating
your new towns and settlements will be similar to those you are accustomed to on Keida, that is, within a few days’ or weeks’ journey by land. The sole exception to this will be the First, his Family, and the specially chosen members of his Estate. They, for the reasons I have already outlined, will be placed together at a very great distance from everyone else.”

  He pressed his accept button and said, “Speak, First Father.”

  “There has been gross misdirection, off-worlder!” the

  First said angrily. “For my help with the evacuation you are obligated to allow me to stay with my people, with all of my people!”

  “My obligation,” Martin said firmly, “was to allow you to keep your Family and your organization intact wherever I sent you. That obligation will be discharged.”

  “Listen to me, you treacherous off-worlder,” the First said in a voice that was so calm and controlled that it made Martin shiver. “My people need me on this new, safe, comfortable world. More than ever they must be organized, disciplined, toughened, welded together into one tight family unit that will be the fear and envy of the countless millions of soft, spineless Federation creatures all around them. Be warned, off-worlder, my Estate will cover even your great Federation World. Mere distance will not keep me from my Keidi, and from fulfilling my destiny.”

  “Mere distance…” Martin began, and stopped.

  The First had not realized the awful size of the super-world-nobody, himself included, could. A diameter in excess of two hundred and eighty million miles and a useable surface area of nearly two hundred fifty quadrillion square miles, or well over one billion times the entire surface area of Keida. He would place the First one million miles, or maybe more, from the other Keidi settlements. It would be a very long walk, over fallow, synthesized soil or the as yet uncovered metal shell of the world itself, to reach them-if he knew which direction to take. But suddenly Martin felt sorry for this fanatical old Keidi Undesirable who honestly believed that he knew what was best for his people, and he resisted the temptation to gloat.