The Dedalus Book of Finnish Fantasy

by Johanna Sinisalo

  Dr. Smith commented that the visitors from outer space have in fact behaved very moderately and have actively avoided any aggressive confrontation with humans. Referring to the often cited Barcelona Case, in which a motorist was killed, Dr. Smith claimed that this was a matter of pure self-defence, the type to which any pilot would resort in an emergency situation. The belligerent motorist had approached the unknown pilot, pointed a weapon at him and asked him to “put his hands up”. The fate of three hikers allegedly kidnapped in Dublin could be understood as arising merely from a keen intellectual interest. There is no evidence to support claims that the hikers were tortured or that any other attack was made against their persons. According to eye-witness accounts they were simply shown into the ship, after which the ship rose into the air. Dr. Smith explained that he had the impression from witness statements that the hikers had in fact boarded the ship of their own accord. One of them had even “laughed and waved his hand”. In view of the current political climate on Earth, the experiences of these hikers appeared to speak in favour of the visitors. He said it was natural that our guests from outer space should wish to examine the behaviour and physiology of human beings. This honourable congress should strive at all costs to understand this side of the argument too, he said.

  The representative from the United States said he found such a notion unacceptable. He believed establishing needless trust in this manner was something which could well be left to the press, as it appeared so many governments had compromised their national security to such a degree. The speaker argued that the possibility of a military invasion was supported by the number of sightings recorded in the vicinity of research institutes and military targets. Surely the honourable Dr. Smith was not unaware of these sightings. Based on material collected in the West, it would appear that even projects of the most remote interest were well documented in outer space. We can even say that the submarine Tornado, lost last summer during a military operation in the Pacific, was literally snatched from beneath our eyes. I hazard to suggest to Dr. Smith that many of the military experts present at this very congress are awaiting the return of this submarine with great interest – if, that is, he can arrange for its return. We cannot afford to reject as fancy the disappearance of our most valuable submarine, after three admirals in the United States Navy and a host of lower-ranked officers witnessed how, in mid-operation, the submarine was raised out of the water into an enormous flying ship which then disappeared forthwith. I do not wish to rebuff Dr. Smith for his generosity of spirit, but I would prefer this provocation towards the United States to be seen as stemming from a primarily scientific interest.

  Dr. Smith replied that in no way did he deny the truth of the events in question. However, he urged those present to assess whether representatives from outer space may simply consider our machines a curiosity. This argument is substantiated by the fact that the visitors have not destroyed these machines, but have in fact striven to acquire a representative cross-section. In this they seem to have succeeded, he added.

  A general from the Soviet Union said that perhaps he had not understood the irony of Dr. Smith’s words. He asked whether Dr. Smith represented a particular government. Dr. Smith replied in the negative. The general then asked who or what exactly Dr. Smith did represent at this congress, if not the visitors from outer space themselves. Dr. Smith stated that he was speaking as an expert at the invitation of the conference organisers. The representatives from outer space do not need anyone to defend them – quite the contrary, it seems to me, he replied.

  The general then turned and addressed the organisers, asking whether delegates might now consider Dr. Smith’s expert opinions heard and continue the discussion of questions of a more military nature. He said he felt it would have been preferable, concerning the functioning of this congress as a whole, if Dr. Smith’s expertise had better addressed the facts.

  After Dr. Smith had left the lecturn, the general expressed his condolences for the losses experienced by the United States delegation and admitted that the Soviet Union had been aware of this. He said he considered it symptomatic of the age that the interest of those from outer space seemed to focus so strongly on our military operations. We may have to accept the fact that all our new inventions are widely known about and that the possibility of keeping future developments secret was very small indeed. He felt it harmful to the military status quo that the developments and material powers of those in outer space were so sparsely documented here on Earth. He also revealed the acquisition of a number of metallic objects, but reported that the process of examining them was significantly slowed due to the peculiarity of the metal. Analysis has been hindered by the almost complete lack of similarity to other known elements. This, however, is only one side of the matter, said the general. If the argument for the decommissioning of weapons achieves a foothold amongst delegates, the chances of winning any potential conflict will be lost. Here he made reference to the previous conversation and stated that the Soviet Union had already asserted its position on the matter. He also pointed out that this was a position shared by the United States and hoped that other governments would soon follow suit. What is at stake is ultimately the fate of the human race, said the general.

  A speaker from the floor asked delegates to consider a situation in which the visitors from outer space may feel it necessary to invade the Earth. He said that this was not a question which could be assessed from the standpoint of traditional military objectives. He proposed, speaking only for himself, that one such objective may be that of sustenance. If we assume that the Earth has something to offer them, a military invasion of this nature may not be out of the question after all.

  A Kenyan biologist pointed out that, being himself familiar with the food crisis on Earth, it would be strange to assume that the visitors would settle for the meagre benefits of such an invasion. In a scenario like this, the benefits would not be ample compensation for the sacrifices an invasion of this scale would undoubtedly require. He said he would be pessimistic about the future of the human race in the event that the visitors sought merely to improve their food stocks. In his assessment he said that biodiversity on Earth may indeed be well suited to the visitors’ nourishment requirements, but that it was equally possible that they were interested in humans themselves. The Kenyan representative did, however, ask delegates not to misunderstand his words as condoning the use of humans as a foodstuff.

  The Belgian representative said that the proposed scenario was undoubtedly a highly interesting one and could indeed prove correct. He hazarded that it would be worth considering the scale on which humans, harvested and refined, could serve as a foodstuff for the visitors. Then we would find out precisely what benefits they would be yielding. He did not suggest that it would be wise to predict development of this nature, but was keen to point out that, in the event that such action proved unavoidable, people would have to prepare themselves well in advance. He asked that the revulsion widely felt towards this type of system not prevent delegates from debating the matter on a theoretical basis. Personally he believed that it might be possible to achieve very high production levels indeed. This would, of course, require the majority of the human race to be confined to zoos, nourished entirely by the Earth’s own food stocks, and this in turn would raise the overall volume of humans considerably. He calculated that steady feeding, if it were properly regulated, could guarantee the production of at least 16–18 billion people. These were the sort of projected figures, he said, which one could assume would be of great interest to the visitors. These days it is common for food to be distributed very disproportionally indeed, something which, he pointed out, had come in for much criticism of late.

  The Norwegian representative asked whether this turn in the conversation meant that the congress was now to concentrate on debating these newly proposed solutions as opposed to the possibility of military intervention. He stated that he was not vested with the authority of his government to take part in a debate of th
at kind. If he had understood the conversation correctly, he said, he felt this would in effect amount to the surrender of the human race.

  The American delegation replied by pointing out that these problems cannot be viewed separately, rather they should be seen as intrinsically bound up with the wider question of military strategy. In ascertaining the objectives of the visitors we are simultaneously ascertaining the challenges we will face in the event of a possible military defeat. In this sense we believe the new proposals are firmly linked to our fundamental question, something which does not necessarily involve surrendering. To put the matter discreetly what we are looking at is some kind of compromise.

  A Swiss researcher said that, as a scientist, he was of course not the right person to pass judgement on a matter of military strategy. But it seems that this debate is assuming that human meat is somehow more valuable than that of animals as a source of nourishment. Naturally this is partly a matter of individual taste, but even if we were to leave this point for a moment, it is undoubtedly true that humans would be far easier to mass produce than animals. The speaker argued that a small number of human beings could, due to their superior levels of intelligence, be trained to oversee the production of those raised for meat; naturally this solution would require fewer of the visitors than for, say, raising animals in bulk. Of course, there would be nothing to prevent them from raising animals in addition to humans. These are merely practical considerations, the speaker added.

  The French representative confirmed that it would be possible to refine humans so that carcass weight could be increased, thus making the whole operation more cost-effective, and that specific improvements could be made in the quality of the meat itself. He added that speculation of this nature may seem macabre, but that these were nonetheless the biological facts. The speaker suggested that those trained to oversee production could also serve as quality controllers and experts with a firm grounding of the conditions on Earth. He said that these were perfect conditions for such cooperation. He declined to comment on the ethical questions raised. That would clearly require the opinion of an expert.

  At this point the comment was made that the debate had not yet considered the implications of transporting slaughtered meat or how human meat should be preserved, as the quantities involved would be so vast. The speaker said he was convinced of the benefits of mass-producing meat on Earth, but said that the possibility of marketing human meat in interplanetary commerce was wholly speculative. He said he believed that turning the Earth into some kind of food supplier in space would involve ironing out many details yet, though theoretically he considered the idea entirely viable.

  A West-German professor said he agreed whole-heartedly with the other speakers, as he felt the voluntary organisation and coordination of meat production may be precisely the kind of positive gesture the occupying forces would no doubt expect from responsible leaders on Earth. The suggestion of a system of quality control he said was “spot on”. He said he believed that, in establishing meat production of this kind, the aim will presumably be firstly to save on production costs and secondly to minimize the number of staff tied up on Earth. The professor said that, in the event of an invasion, the question would arise as to whether there are people on Earth with the skills required to undertake leading positions in product development. As much as he did not wish to seem overly patriotic, he said, he felt his countrymen have experiences which may be of great use in this matter. He suggested that a committee be established without delay to take care of any preliminary organisational matters and to prepare for ongoing contact with the representatives from outer space. The speaker said he was happy to leave open any questions regarding the details of the action required for such a change, but that he considered making initial preparations a matter of the greatest urgency.

  Good Heavens!

  Arto Paasilinna

  Arto Paasilinna (born 1942) is one of Finland’s most popular writers and his novels have been translated into 35 languages. Paasilinna’s writing is direct, approachable, humourous and often overtly picaresque. A recurring theme is that of freeing oneself from the shackles of society and his texts often take a comical and parodic view of myth and religion. He is the brother of Erno Paasilinna, also featured in this anthology. Arto Paasilinna’s breakthrough came in 1975 with the novel The Year of the Hare (‘Jäniksen vuosi’). The extract featured here comes from the novel Herranen aika (‘Good Heavens!’, 1980).

  Chapter One

  My death came to me as a complete surprise.

  It was an August afternoon and I was walking along Kaisaniemenkatu on my way home from work at the editorial office of a local newspaper. I was in a particularly good mood and felt decidedly full of life. At the time I was only thirty years old. Throughout my lifetime I had never seriously considered the idea that I might die in the middle of everything; that it would be sudden and final.

  But that’s exactly what happened.

  Kaisaniemenkatu in August was a hubbub of happy, carefree life. The street attracts all kinds of city women, the vainest and the prettiest, who stroll around department stores picking out that autumn’s most fashionable clothes; all the airheads, still proudly sporting their summer tan, whose mere presence has the power to catch men’s eyes. Watching them is a great deal of fun, examining their thighs and their hips. At this time of year the exhaust fumes of Kaisaniemenkatu smell of cosmetics – Madame Rochas, Dior, Max Factor.

  Perhaps I was watching the bustling life on the streets a little too intently. For a few metres I decided to walk along the road to get a better view of a lovely pair of legs at the edge of the crowd on the pavement. Their firm calf muscles were showing nicely. I quickened my step so I could catch a glimpse of her face. I’m a thorough man, I don’t settle for seeing only a woman’s legs, I want to see her expression too. After all, it’s the overall impression that counts.

  As it turned out I didn’t live to see her face as all of a sudden I was hit by a car, and that was that.

  The impact sent me flying back on to the pavement, where I struck the ground and lay motionless looking well and truly beaten up. The knock was terribly painful, I heard my head crack open. The pain stopped immediately.

  For a short while everything went black.

  Then I saw what had happened. My body was lying on the pavement and the traffic had come to a standstill. The woman I had been following had heard the sound of the crash and had come back to take a nosy look at what had happened. Now I saw her face. Nothing to write home about. I was rather upset: a man in his prime had been run over all for this?

  The car in question had pulled over by the side of the road. The driver was examining the front of his bonnet, in which there were now a few dents. One of the front headlights had cracked. The man took a hankerchief and wiped blood from the splintered glass. From the direction of the railway station came the wail of an ambulance.

  A crowd of people surrounded my body. Somebody rolled me on to my back and held a compact mirror in front of my mouth. Somebody else loosened the tie around my neck. In shock I knelt down next to my body to see if any vapours rose up to the mirror.

  The surface of the mirror remained crystal clear. I looked myself in the eyes: my expression was lifeless, my pupils were growing smaller: apparently I was dead.

  A moment later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics quickly checked my pulse and shook their heads. They lifted me on to a stretcher and placed me in the back of the van. They were no longer in any hurry, I was dead as dead could be. With that the ambulance drove off to take my body to the hospital. This time, however, the sirens weren’t blaring.

  A few minutes later the police arrived on the scene and set about taking notes. The group of onlookers began to disperse, the most interesting part of the incident was over. A security guard from the department store came out to sweep broken glass off the street. A caretaker appeared with a hose to rinse off the few blood stains on the pavement. The man who had run me over was explaining to th
e police that it was entirely my fault. Distraught, he surveyed the damage done to his car.

  So I was dead.

  It seemed impossible. Death had decided to claim me, of all people … the idea was very hard to take in.

  Where was the sense in dying like that, by sheer accident? The triviality and pointlessness of it all began to infuriate me. Who benefitted from a death like this? Would it have been too much to have been allowed to live for even another ten years? Then I would have had enough time to prove that I was still a decent person and not just a good-for-nothing.

  Couldn’t some needless person have died on my behalf? Now everything was left up in the air. Come to think of it, I hadn’t really done anything important or noteworthy, anything permanent in my life. I felt cheated: was an end like this the reason I had lived for over thirty years?

  I thought hard about what I had to do next. Perhaps it would be best simply to let things take their natural course. I stood on the street, unsure and still in shock. It crossed my mind that this was something no living person would ever experience. I smirked at my own stupidity: of course the living know nothing about death. If they did, they would no longer be alive.

  Was I now supposed to continue on my way home, as if nothing had happened, as if I weren’t dead after all? That certainly seemed the logical thing to do. Before the accident I had been planning to stop by a small pub on Liisankatu and have a few pints before going home to my wife. Now after my sudden death, the idea of going to the pub somehow didn’t appeal quite as much. People might even have thought it slightly inappropriate: a man gets himself killed and the first thing he does is head for the pub. In any case I wasn’t the least bit thirsty any more. The desire for a cold beer had obviously remained in my dead body, which was at that very moment being driven to the hospital.