First Contact: A Pax Aeterna Novel (Call of Command Book 1)

by Trevor Wyatt

  “I believe they do, more or less,” Jeryl answered. “Ghosal has an attitude, and I understand that. He seems pretty human to me in terms of his emotional colors. We solved his puzzles. He’s no fool—arrogant, yes—but no fool. His ship could swat us out of space, but at this point I’m not liking him for the culprit.”

  The Admiral drew a deep breath but simply nodded at him.

  “That said, sir,” Jeryl said, “What do you want me to do?”

  “The main thing is to make sure this blue-faced so-and-so either is, or is not responsible for what happened to The Mariner. If not, we’re good, and history proceeds. If he did it, well, we’re in a pretty pile, and I don’t mind saying so. It’ll be a mess, son, a big steaming mess.”

  “I know.”

  “Very well,” said Flynn. “Stay safe, but don’t back down.”

  He smiled. “I suppose I don’t really need to say that to you, do I?”

  He smiled back. “No sir, you do not.”

  “I thought not. Flynn out.” And he cut the slipstream link.

  After he did, the captain sat back, looking around his office. It was comfortable, but not what anyone would call luxurious. He had an art screen that was usually tuned to Impressionist painters, his bunk, a closet, and a desk with a chair—which was where he’s sitting, looking at the blank slipstream monitor.

  He didn’t want to go back into CNC, but he didn’t want to be alone, either. He put in a call to Ashley.

  “Lieutenant,” he said, “I want to see you.”

  “Sir,” she replied crisply. Within a minute, the door announced her arrival.

  “You were talking to Flynn,” she said

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “You have that look on your face, that ‘I just had a chat with my boss’ look.”

  “I didn’t know I had one of those.”

  “Well, you do. What did he say?”

  He gave her a précis of the conversation. She listened, nodding.

  “He’s being pretty reasonable,” she said.

  “Yeah, considering that he could fry my ass if he wanted.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t think he would ever do that, even if you screwed up royally. Which you are not about to do.”

  “Not deliberately, anyway.”

  She turned serious. “That encounter with Ghosal or whatever his name is...what do you think he’ll do?”

  “I really don’t know. I think, I hope, that he’ll reply as an equal, and not send a torpedo into our guts.”

  “Can we deflect one if he does?”

  “No idea.”

  “An action like that would make the Sonali into the biggest and nastiest bad guys we’ve ever met,” she said. “I mean Mankind, not us.”

  “That’s completely correct.”

  She let out a small chuckle. “I suppose there’s one good thing to be said about it.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Humans won’t be hating AIs anymore. We’ll all be on the same side. Every xenophobe in the Union will have a new target.”

  “Yeah, no, that’s some cold comfort, there, Ashley.”

  She smiled ruefully at him. “It’s all I have for you right now, Jeryl.”

  At that moment, his screen lit up and he saw Mary Taylor's face. She looked frightened.

  “There’s a new transmission from the alien.”

  “We’ll be right there,” he told her. Ashley and the captain headed out the door on the double.

  Chapter 15

  Jeryl

  When Ashley and Jeryl entered CNC, they immediately sensed the tension. Jeryl sped to Mary's station. Her face was damp with perspiration. He lay what he hoped was a calming hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s going on, Lieutenant?”

  “We’re being hailed by the Sonali craft,” she said.

  “I’ll take it at my station,” he told her. “Put it on the main screen as well.”

  The grim blue visage of command Legate Ghosal swam into view on the small viewer before him, while giving the air around the big screen at the front of the chamber a sickly beryl tinge.

  Without preamble, Ghosal said, “I have been in touch with my superiors.”

  A thought clicked into place at the back of the Captain’s mind. Ghosal had inadvertently revealed that he, like them, had the capability to communicate FTL. This fellow isn’t as smart as he thinks he is, thought Jeryl.

  Ghosal clicked and popped at them.

  “Captain Montgomery,” he said in translation. “You were given clear instructions to leave this place. Why, then, are you still here?”

  Once more, Jeryl’s mind flashed back to one of Professor Guss’s lectures.

  * * *

  “Let’s look at some hypothetical situations,” Professor Guss said, pacing back and forth at the front of the room. The hall had stadium seating, so it was easy for Jeryl to see him. Plus, less than a quarter of the seats were filled. The class was an elective, and it was obvious that most students didn’t consider it to be worth their while. But Professor Guss never seemed to mind.

  “You’ve landed on a planet that you know has intelligent life. You have seen cities from orbit, and individual structures. But these people are pre-spaceflight. They’ve lofted no satellites, and haven’t visited any of the other worlds in their star system. With all the best intentions, you set down on their planet in some out-of-the-way spot near one of their urban centers so that you can observe them before deciding whether to contact them or not.”

  Alyce Teodosio’s hand shot up. She was a small, intense Latina who rarely smiled.

  “We shouldn’t contact them at all,” she said. “Ideally, we wouldn’t interfere with the course of their natural advancement.”

  He pointed at her.

  “And there are studies that back you up, Miss Teodosio. They claim that any contact with a pre-spaceflight people could result in a deleterious effect on their confidence in their own efforts. They could stop trying, in other words,” he said.

  Jeryl raised his hand, and the professor nodded at him.

  “I don’t necessarily agree,” he said. “Instead of being intimidated, they could just as easily be spurred on to develop their technology, because they would have proof that it could be done.”

  “It might depend on how advanced they were,” said a young man with a blonde buzz cut. “If they were on the level of Cro-Magnons, say, they might run and hide, whereas if they were as advanced as Persia around the time of Jesus, they might ride out to investigate, with weapons ready but not intending to attack.”

  “Or if they were like Nazi Germany, they might just start shooting in the hope of capturing that shiny starship.” Alyce said, turning to look at him.

  “Any one of these possibilities could be true,” Professor Guss said. “Which is why you would, one hopes, as captain of that Union ship, spend a good amount of time observing them clandestinely. We currently have no laws covering First Contact, even though we have been exploring nearby star systems for many years. There have been efforts to create such laws, but the idea of intelligent extraterrestrial life simply isn’t taken seriously at the higher echelons of our government. One day that will change, but by then it may be too late.”

  “But let’s move on to other scenarios,” he said. “We won’t consider the possibility of contacting a benevolent species, because that’s a happy-ending sort of thing. Peace and love, blah blah blah.”

  He smiled at the ripple of laughter in the hall.

  “Let’s assume that you are the captain of an exploratory vessel that has entered a system that’s home to a technologically advanced civilization. As you approach the target planet you see that it’s ringed with myriad satellites, hundreds, maybe thousands. Perhaps there are bases on the outlying planets. You’ve taken care to avoid contact with them, and once you arrive at the home world, you’re glad you did. Scans tell you that many of the orbital stations are carrying nuclear as well as conventional weapons. The plan
et’s surface is environmentally degraded by mining for elements used in making weapons, and by insufficiently shielded nuclear plants. You may be surprised that they haven’t yet blown themselves to atoms or poisoned themselves to death.”

  Laughter rippled across the hall again, but this time it was a little muted. After all, something like this almost happened to their own planet.

  “Miss Teodosio?” He lifted his eyebrows at her.

  “I’d definitely want to lay off at a distance and observe them,” said Alyce.

  “So would I,” he said, “but for the sake of the discussion, let’s say they detect you and start shooting.”

  She blinked. “I wouldn’t return fire.”

  “Why not? They have proven their aggressive nature. It’s clear that if they manage to get out of their system, they could spread that aggression and perhaps prove to be a danger to us. Why wouldn’t you at least knock the attacking satellites out of space?”

  Jeryl raised his hand again. “I’d sequester them,” he said. “Make sure they couldn’t be a threat to anyone else. Maybe incapacitate their weapons satellites and put up our own, to keep an eye on them.”

  “But doing that would be the same as interfering with their natural advancement, as Miss Teodosio suggested a while ago.”

  He bit his lips. “In the strict sense, yes; but if their ‘natural advancement’ would imperil us or other species, it would be justified—in my opinion.”

  “And if this sequestration or segregation results in extreme hardship for them? When we could have assisted them to mature past their ‘primitive’ behavior?”

  The students casted uneasy glances at each other.

  “They’d have every reason to fear and hate us, if we shot down their satellites,” Alyce said. “I’d say do nothing, but establish an observation post to keep an eye on them. If they get out of hand, I don’t know...some sort of escalation would be necessary.”

  “Possibly, possibly,” said Professor Guss. “And we can leave it at that point.”

  “But what’s the answer, sir?” Jeryl asked. “How can we know what to do?”

  Professor Guss smiled at me. “That will be for you or one of your colleagues to tell us,” he said. “And I wish you luck. Because there really is no answer.”

  * * *

  Now, Jeryl was in a situation close to the one posited by his old professor. And he had no idea what to do. He was winging it, but he won’t tell anyone else that that’s the case. He glanced over at Ashley in her station, and he saw her looking him.

  Jeryl was sure she suspected. He gave her a smile that was as calm as he could make it.

  “I apologize if I’m causing any stress, Command Legate,” he said, “but my orders are to determine what happened to our ship. I regret to say that we can’t leave until we accomplish that task.”

  “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear,” Ghosal said, a distinct edge to the translated voice. Their computers weren’t as sophisticated as ground-based machines, but even so, they were running neural networks with strong learning capabilities. They were very good at analyzing subtext from both tone and body language, and it was obvious that they had been able to educate themselves about the Sonalian emotional spectrum. Professor Guss would be happy.

  “You’re trespassing in our territory,” Ghosal went on, “but we’ve no wish to be punitive. I offer you a choice: come as an ambassador to the Home Planet, or leave.”

  And for the first time, the Captain saw Ghosal smile. It wasn’t a pleasant sight.

  “Or you can die.”

  “You’re threatening me?” he asked, surprised despite himself.

  Professor, I wish you were here with me now. I could benefit from some calm insight!

  And Jeryl heard him reply, Don’t react to his words. Think: What is he truly upset about? His civilization is familiar with others. There’s something different here for him, and he’s being reactionary. That doesn’t jibe with the idea of a cosmopolitan space-faring species. Perhaps there’s a personal for him in your interactions.

  Personal? the Captain replied. How can that be? I don’t know him. I have no idea what his background could be. I don’t know what his cultural imperatives are.

  Then you’d better think about them, Guss said, and his shade evaporated.

  I haven’t got time to ponder abstract concepts like cultural imperatives—why has my mind even thrown that idea into my consciousness? Jeryl thought.

  Ghosal said, “These are not threats, Captain. They are statements of fact. You must choose which path you will pursue.”

  The screen blanked out.

  Chapter 16

  Jeryl

  Jeryl stared at a blank screen, with everyone in CNC waiting to see what he would say or do. He was waiting to find out, as well.

  What he did was stand, lifted his chin, and said, “I’ll be in my office.”

  Without another word, he left CNC.

  He needed to think about what Professor Guss had to say about cultural imperatives because there was something there—he was sure of it.

  But there was another little detail he wanted to check on as well, and as soon as he was alone he did. He signaled Gunny, the Armory AI, and had a brief discussion with him. After he was done, he was sure that The Seeker stood no chance of winning a firefight with Ghosal’s ship. Analysis of the behemoth’s systems showed that they were not only outgunned, they would also most likely be chased down and swatted out of space with little effort on the part of the Sonali.

  They weren’t a great deal more advanced than The Seeker was, but the gap was wide enough to give the Sonalis an edge. Jeryl’s crew could probably improve their navigation and propulsion systems to match them; he knew for a fact that they had ships on the drawing board that would be able to put up a stiff defense against Ghosal. But there had been no need for the Union to put any crash programs into development. The Outers weren’t any more advanced than the Union, so the improvement in their military capabilities hadn’t been a priority. Until now.

  But what Jeryl really wanted to think about was what Professor Guss had said about possible differences between intelligent species. Because there was a hint there, he believed, if he could find it quickly enough.

  * * *

  “So let’s talk about the day after First Contact,” Professor Guss said at the beginning of another lecture.

  “You can talk to each other, and relations are being established. This is a good time to reflect on adaptation. Both sides are going to have to make changes in their worldviews if the relationship is to be successful. So you need to be aware of three levels of interaction: cultural exclusives, cultural electives, and cultural imperatives.”

  He paused, and there was silence in the hall. No one had a clue what he was talking about.

  “You’re thinking that you’ve wandered into a sociology class,” he said, smiling. “In a way, you have. But sociology is at the bottom of all the things I’m trying to teach you. Without some understanding of how the other guy’s social relationships and interactions work, you’ll never get beyond the ‘C-A-T spells cat’ and ‘1 plus 1 equals 2’ stage of communication. What I am saying here is that the problems only begin when you first meet.”

  He snapped his fingers and a virtual data board appeared. On it were written three things: cultural exclusives, cultural electives, and cultural imperatives.

  “So, what’s a cultural exclusive?” he said. “These are local customs. Earth is one planet, but it’s broken up into countries and nations, and those are broken up into states or territories, which are further broken into regions.

  “Cultural exclusives pertain to regional people. To give a broad example, if you were a Christian, you wouldn’t go to a Muslim country and try to act like a Muslim. That would be deeply insulting. By the same token, you can joke about your own family, but if an outsider makes fun of them, you’ll be furious. That’s a cultural exclusive.”

  He looked around. “Are we clear on that?”


  There are murmurs of agreement from the audience, including Jeryl.

  “Good. Now let’s move up the ladder to cultural electives. Those are customs also, but you needn’t conform to them. For example, in the Czech Republic, it used to be customary for alcohol to be offered at the start of a business meeting, even if it was eight o’clock in the morning. If you wished to be considered polite, you’d take a sip. It needn’t be more than that. Muslims would offer coffee to signal friendship. And so on.”

  More murmurs of agreement and understanding, much nodding of heads.

  “And at the top of the list are cultural imperatives,” said the professor. “Now, these are customs that you simply must adhere to if you want to be successful and show genuine respect. This becomes slippery. To be successful in a post-first-contact world, you will have to build a relationship with the other side.”

  He paused.

  “I see many puzzled looks. As if to say, ‘Well, that’s obvious, Professor Guss.’ It should be, I agree; but it really isn’t. Upon meeting the representative of an alien civilization, you have to understand that you will not be communicating with the civilization—you will be communicating with a person, even if he doesn’t look like any person you ever heard of.

  “And if you don’t build a relationship with him—or her, or it, whatever—you are doomed to fail because at the bottom, communication is between people, not companies or religions. Can anyone tell me why this is?”

  Jeryl thought as hard as he ever have in my life; he was sure he understood his professor’s line of reasoning. He raised his hand.

  “Yes, Mr. Montgomery,” he said, nodding at him.

  Jeryl took a breath. “You have to build trust.”

  He grinned. “That is exactly right. Trust will make or break a deal. Is there another example of a cultural imperative?”

  A Japanese girl raised her hand.

  “In my culture,” she said, “you can’t act in such a way as to lose face or to cause someone else to lose face.”