Evaluate: A Spo novella (Alien Cadets)

by Garrett, Corrie

  Vanessa broke in. “But so many people have died… millions. If you care about culture—”

  “Your planetary population was above eight billion. Many millions have died, but society remains. If they have the will to survive.” His tone was harsh, and the words fell like stones into the silence. “The sabotage of the Hadron Collider was damning enough, and everything I have seen confirms this.” He gestured at the boy. “Even his rage gave him no strength.”

  The kid stared back at Eto. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “That was grief,” Vanessa said, “not rage. It was a moment of weakness.”

  “Neither do you!” the boy yelled. “I’m not weak.”

  “You chose death. There is no strength in death. No possibility. No future. You chose nothing.”

  “I—”

  “And then the terrorists,” Eto continued, as if David had not spoken. “Not only did they choose death for others of their species, which would be understandable if they were at war, but they chose death for themselves. No matter what their goals, we define that as a malignant form of intelligence.”

  Aaron opened his mouth, but couldn’t immediately put his thoughts together. The diffused sunlight shining through their windows was beginning to make it very warm inside, and his head throbbed. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “I hate what the terrorists did, but the only thing I can respect about them is that they were willing to die for what they believed. They weren’t hypocrites.”

  “In a sane society, one proves their loyalty by living for a cause, not dying for it.”

  “But if that’s the only way—”

  Eto made a growling noise. “When is that ever the only way?”

  Aaron stopped, upset that he was defending the terrorists who’d begun this nightmare. What they’d done was indefensible and evil.

  “Well,” Ming cut in, “it is their way. They have been bred for it. I believe you wear a necklace with one of those symbols?” he asked Vanessa.

  Vanessa started, her hand going to her pocket. “It’s a crucifix. I’m Catholic.”

  “I, too, have read the summaries of this religion,” Eto said. “It is a barbaric symbol, but no worse than the death chambers of the Merith or the Vel cleansing rituals. We would not hold that against you, but the fact that you venerate the idea of—”

  The branch of a nearby palm tree fell with a thunk onto the nose of the helicopter. It balanced there like a seesaw. The fronds waved on the right and the stalk swayed on the left.

  It didn’t spark, but Aaron knew that didn’t necessarily mean they were safe.

  The branch wavered there, and then a slight breeze sent it sliding off on David’s side. When the tip of it was about three inches from the ground, a spark jumped.

  Leaning at a forty-five degree angle between David’s door and the pavement, the dry palm leaves ignited.

  #

  Eto exhaled forcibly, frustrated and sick with the human smell building in the tiny cockpit. Now there was a fire to contend with. He did not believe the helicopter would be readily flammable, but it was far from ideal. If things continued to deteriorate, they would have to test the doors despite the danger.

  Vanessa eyed the flames. “Now I wish the electricity hadn’t been restored.”

  “Electrical faults are the fourth leading cause of home fires,” Aaron said automatically.

  The flames were climbing the branch like a ladder toward the helicopter.

  The kid cursed. “Now I’m gonna die anyway. In a freaking fire.”

  Eto flexed his mandibles in exasperation. He pulled out the phone and called the Los Angeles coordinator.

  Ming quietly translated. “He is saying… we are still trapped in the helicopter, and now the branch of a tree is on fire. It is probably not enough to cause the helicopter to ignite, but he does not know. The electricity needs to be shut off in this region.”

  Eto put the phone back in his tunic pouch. “Someone should be here shortly. There was some damage at headquarters.”

  He wasn’t sure what he was more angry about: the disintegration of his day or the end of his last, failed attempt to achieve meaningful communication with the humans. He had humbled himself to try to communicate with them yet again only to have Vanessa, whom he’d been relatively sure of, embrace insanity by nearly topping out the aircraft’s capabilities.

  A car pulled into view, carefully navigating the intersection in front of Union Station. It was the first person they’d seen since they crashed. The car was moving slowly as the driver cautiously avoided debris.

  The car paused just past the blinking red light.

  “I think they see us,” Vanessa said. Sure enough, the small, dirty sedan turned into the parking entrance and headed toward them.

  “That’s not good.” Aaron waved his arms. “He shouldn’t get so close.”

  It was an older human with gray hair on his head and face. The palm tree that had fallen blocked his way. The human parked behind the tree and got out of the car.

  Vanessa waved her hands more forcefully, pointing to the power lines and then away. “Don’t come any closer.”

  The man squinted at them in the cockpit and then pointed to the fire.

  “Yes, we know. Don’t come any closer.” Vanessa shook her head at him.

  He looked around and then picked up another palm frond that had fallen.

  “He’s going to try to knock it away. Will that connect him to the current?” she asked Aaron.

  “It’s possible. It’s definitely too dangerous to try.”

  The old man did try, though. Even when Eto was disgusted with the humans, he had to admit they were brave. Perhaps that was why he’d fought so hard to find the evidence he needed. If the cowardly Tergre could be part of the Council, surely there should be a way for the brave humans.

  Aaron rubbed his lip nervously. “It’s people like this that make me love this city. Yes, a lot of people are stealing and fighting, contributing to the chaos. But so many others are quietly surviving and helping when they can.”

  No doubt Aaron was thinking this man—if he didn’t die—would help the boy, David, get away.

  The old man slowly nudged the branch away from the helicopter until it fell off and then he stomped the flames out.

  “Yeah,” David said. “Go, dude.”

  Before any of them could respond, David grabbed the door handle.

  “Ha, power’s out. Didn’t die.” He swung the door open and jumped out.

  The old man was looking into the open door, taking in Eto and Ming with surprise.

  In the brief second it took Eto to process that David was out and not being electrocuted, Aaron yelled, “Keep going.”

  David didn’t look back. He grabbed the old man’s arm and started dragging him back toward the car.

  They were in the car and backing away less than ninety seconds after David had jumped.

  “Well.” Eto touched the wall of the helicopter. Nothing happened.

  He glanced back to the intersection and saw that the flashing red light was now dark.

  The car pulled away, and Eto made no attempt to wrench his way out of the back of the helicopter to chase them down. He’d finally seen it: the spark in the boy’s eyes as he grabbed the door and jumped out. His willingness to risk everything for survival. The humans didn’t seem to understand the difference, but Eto had finally seen it. He just wished it had surfaced sooner.

  Aaron, on the other hand, had an interesting expression on his face. He surely thought his small insubordination in telling the boy to go was to be punished with death. Eto was surrounded by lunatics.

  It wasn’t that the humans had no survival instinct at all, it just didn’t seem to activate until they nearly died. As tired as he was of them, humans could be appealing in their own way.

  He finally came to the crux of it. Despite their lunacy, humans did not seem malignant to him. They were strange and alien, but he felt more kinship with them than he did with any
other species he’d worked closely with. All day, he’d been searching for a way to reconcile his duty and this understanding.

  He couldn’t say any of this to the emperor, but he finally settled the issue in his own mind. The humans were not so very far from what the Council would find acceptable. Perhaps there was an alternative.

  Part 5

  The communication room at Spo headquarters had been somewhat haphazardly constructed. Instead of a smooth sphere, the ceiling and walls were only roughly polygonal. The display module stood just ahead of him to his left, and he waited patiently for the technician to connect it.

  This time, he was alone in the room. Two weeks ago, he’d let Vanessa stay in the room while he communicated with a colleague in orbit.

  She had taken a step back. “It’s just, the perspective is so strange. It’s not blurry, but the curves…”

  “Our technology mimics our biology, just as yours does. Our eyestalks give us a fundamentally different view than you.” He had almost said their vision was better, but he had avoided the gaffe. It was common courtesy to pretend that other species’ senses were as valuable as the Spo’s.

  Now, Vanessa waited in the hallway with two Spo guards.

  The view Eto saw today was from the Spo emperor’s estate in one of his two dozen viewing rooms. They were each decorated with different paraphernalia according to the purpose of the conversation. The war room had blades of varying antiquity and rare value, the negotiation room had trouncer skulls, and the family room held glass art made from the silicate remains of the emperor’s predecessors.

  In this room, which Eto did not immediately recognize, there were eight stands holding lamps.

  The emperor sat in the middle.

  Eto bowed low, waited a beat, and rose.

  “I have presented myself today to give the findings of my evaluation of the human species on the planet Earth.”

  “Yes, yes. I understand you were just trapped in an earthquake. Wretched planet. What are your findings?”

  The Spo emperor behaved with extraordinary pomp on some occasions, but when it was only him and one of his high-ranking officers, he preferred efficiency.

  “It has been complicated. Despite their superficial similarities, the humans are no Tergre.”

  The emperor waited, so Eto took a deep breath and continued.

  “I believe that they are sentient and sane. They display, on the whole, an adequate survival instinct for their future development.”

  “You’re qualifying that rather heavily.”

  “I am. There seem to be certain circumstances that entirely circumvent their sanity. They value self-sacrifice.”

  The emperor flushed a disgusted amber.

  “But not in self-mutilation, as we feared. The idealistic ones prefer to die with others, such as those who attacked the particle accelerator and inadvertently caused the cataclysm. The despairing ones prefer to die alone. However,” he continued before the emperor could interrupt, “I believe that with judicious care, their survival instinct could be revived. Already, the millions of deaths have had a polarizing effect. They seem to have much literature on the possibility of global destruction, both secular and holy—”

  “Everything you say makes me less inclined to undertake this task.”

  “Yes, sir, but as I said, the polarizing effect has caused many of the fanatics to… to commit suicide. I believe the population that remains in the wake of the catastrophe is more survival-oriented than the former population.”

  He took a deep breath. “I believe we have accidentally contributed to that. Our recent use of force has forestalled organized revolt, but had the opposite effect on individuals. If we allow this feeling to coalesce, even against us, a healthy sense of survival may develop.”

  The emperor stared at him, his eyestalks twisting slightly. “Have you been ill? Do you suggest that we make our task harder by causing a human uprising? We can put down a centralized rebellion, but if they attack individuals in overwhelming numbers, occupation will be far too costly.”

  “Yes. But if we attempt to pacify them, and this is in my report, only some of them would accept us. Others would still resist, and they would fight intensely between themselves as well as with us. Their sense of global identity is almost completely destroyed. That kind of infighting may truly break it. Their cultures may not survive. But if we allow them to create a global identity in relation to a common, though necessary, evil, I believe they may be ready to pass the trial with the appropriate leadership when the time comes.”

  Eto thought briefly of Vanessa, crying out at the sight of the darkened sky. “On the other hand, I believe that if we put no force on the humans, they will not be found sentient and sane by the Galactic Council after the probation period. They need a stronger will to survive and strong leadership. Both of those might be accomplished by us. If we do this effectively and the humans are allowed into the Galactic Council, our profits will be enormous, as you know.”

  “That is an incredible gamble.”

  “As we knew this sponsorship would be.”

  “Yet here’s the shifty little Crosspointers sponsoring those new, obedient trees, and the Vel with their reclusive protégés. We get saddled with sentient fanatics.”

  “They are better than the Rik.”

  “They could hardly be worse!”

  “I only meant that, as the Rik are involved in a troubled sponsorship, the humans might be a successful balance…”

  “I know. And we would have to train their children,” he mused. “We could repurpose the training centers we use for our Tergre exchange program, but then we would need a new contract to train the Tergre at a subsidiary location.”

  There was no question, so Eto remained silent.

  “Do you believe their children would be capable of diplomatic and legal training?”

  “Yes. Gustav will present his report later today, but he tells me that was the essence of his findings. That part, at least, would be relatively easy.”

  The emperor laughed gratingly. “It’s been many years since your training days, I see. I toured one of the Vel facilities only yesterday and you may tell their mentors how easy you find it.”

  “I am not a mentor, but the humans are easily as intelligent as the Vel.”

  “It’s not always intelligence that’s the problem.” The emperor scraped his mandibles together. “Training centers aside, you recommend that we continue with the humans? Your evaluation leads you to believe that they can win the sentience trial?”

  “It does.”

  The emperor looked at him for a long moment. “I have received a similar report from General—what name did he pick? Ahmad. Two others have recommended the opposite.”

  Eto tried to stay as expressionless as possible. The decision was the emperor’s. Eto had no desire to bear responsibility for this entire undertaking. If the evaluations were evenly split, it was for the emperor to choose the fate of humanity, not him.

  With a moment of profound relief, Eto realized that this was the end of his assignment. His positive report had given the humans an even chance of selection. He could leave this unstable planet and continue his career. The current conflict with the Merith seemed to have drawn to a close, but there were always other venues. He might enjoy a lengthy break from the Merith, and request a post near the Rik. They would bear watching in the coming years.

  “Thank you for your report,” the emperor said. “I will relay my decision to the generals onsite. You are free to go.”

  Eto waited stoically until the view disappeared.

  He was free to go. He waited for the relief to turn into satisfaction, and completion, but did not feel it. Instead, his brief feeling of relief began to evaporate. What would the emperor decide to do?

  He exited the room. Vanessa was flanked by two guards. While she had refused his orders to come to headquarters, thus inadvertently causing their crash, she had not executed any other overt action against them. Eto dismissed the guar
ds.

  Vanessa cautiously pushed away from the wall to walk beside him. “Are we going? Am I allowed to leave?”

  Eto nodded.

  If the Spo left, she would die. Not right away, but her likelihood of surviving five years was very low. The coming winter was going to be very bad, even in a relatively even clime. The earthquakes would continue sporadically, probably for years. The breakdown of civil governments would contribute to isolation and degradation.

  Many humans might survive, but what was left to them would be poached by the Vel, the Merith, the Rik… oh yes, certainly the Rik. No doubt they were watching with avid interest, hoping the Spo would leave the humans vulnerable.

  He looked at Vanessa again. Slavery was not uncommon in the galaxy. It was regulated by law to protect the rights of Council species, but if the humans were not granted full sentient status, or worse, judged ‘malignant,’ they would have no protection. From rich collectors to avaricious slavers, the humans would be at the mercy of the galaxy.

  It would be a form of survival, but even the Spo might balk at survival on such terms.

  “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Vanessa’s voice surprised him. “You changed your mind, I think. But that hasn’t changed.”

  “All people die,” Eto equivocated.

  “Yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I know I’ve only been around you a few weeks, but I’m starting to understand you. And the way you looked at me just now…like you looked at David.”

  Eto turned to see her face.

  “You never expect to see me again.”

  Eto didn’t answer as she followed him out the front door and down the steps of their headquarters. They’d chosen the Department of Water and Power, as that was already a centralized and important command center.

  Aaron stood outside. He had not, technically, offered any resistance at all, so he was not being held.

  There was a sense of finality about his stance.

  “You’re still here?” Eto asked.

  “Yes. I gotta get back to my crew. Help with the latest quake. But I don’t suppose we’ll ever meet again, so I wanted to say: it’s been… interesting.” Aaron’s face was grave. “I won’t submit to the Spo if you continue the way you’ve started, but I’m glad you let the kid get away. I’m glad I met you. I’ll know who I’m fighting, and that’s not insignificant.”