by Nathan Jones
That sort of barbarity was common in human civilization tens of thousands of years ago, and few argued it was a strong possibility.
Once consensus had been reached that the humans were really there and they were probably members of a forgotten colony, the question turned to what to do with them. Tycho was pushed even farther into the background for his debate, since his expertise wasn't really useful here.
Which was unfortunate, because this was where he wished his voice was loudest.
The Forum quickly split into three opposing factions. The largest faction wanted to make contact and fold this colony into human civilization for humanitarian reasons, based on the horrific conditions those billions of poor people were living under. The obvious solution was to offer the newly discovered branch of humanity all the technology and social advancements they so desperately lacked and put them under the protection of the AI caretakers.
The smallest and most extreme faction, and ironically one populated heavily by the sorts of fringe radicals who considered humans cowards for not interacting with each other personally, considered the barbaric cultures the colony humans lived in to be dangerously unstable. So much so that even observing them might corrupt human civilization, leading humans into a devolution that would bring about the return of war and other horrors. They strongly advocated for the eradication of the forgotten colony and the purging of all records of its existence.
Not only did most vehemently oppose this suggestion on moral grounds, but it seemed pointless to even debate it because the AI caretakers would never allow the extermination of any humans. Or at least not without such a violent shakeup of civilization that it would destabilize humanity far more than any “corruption” from the forgotten colony.
The third faction, and the one Tycho threw his support behind, was populated largely by those who shared the concerns of the extreme minority about cultural contamination. That wasn't why Tycho supported them, of course, since he considered the new world a wonder and its various cultures a mystery he wanted to deeply delve, as a way to better understand his own emptiness living a life without real human interaction.
What he supported was that the third faction had a less extreme solution than the second faction, and wanted to simply quarantine the forgotten colony and prevent all study of or interaction with it.
That was exactly what Tycho wanted. Because of course destroying the world was horrific and completely unthinkable, but on the other extreme the first faction's solution wasn't much better in his opinion. If it had its way, and they simply folded the new humans into their civilization, then the forgotten colony's wondrous cultures would be exterminated every bit as thoroughly as if the world was outright destroyed.
If that happened then something rare and precious would be lost. To all of humanity's detriment, he felt.
Which was why Tycho argued so fiercely that they should simply leave the forgotten colony alone. He didn't speak his deepest reasonings aloud, knowing how people would respond to them, but in his heart he couldn't bear the idea of losing the place that seemed to have everything that had been missing in his life.
A place where mothers nursed their infants and cuddled their children, where fathers roughhoused with them after dinner and tucked them into bed with a story. Where a child frightened of bad dreams wasn't held back by a companion from creeping into his parent's bed for safety and comfort. Where his parent didn't send him away when he was eight and put him in the care of robotic replacements because he'd become too inconvenient.
A place where you had to have the courage to approach a complete stranger and see if they might be someone you could love. Where you battled that uncertainty each day as your feelings grew until a wondrous bond was created. Where children were brought into a family and clumsily raised by parents who loved them so fiercely they would do anything for them.
A beautiful place.
He wasn't blind to the evils that could be found on the forgotten colony, the societal ills that human civilization had eradicated millennia ago. But they were the rare ugly exception to something precious.
Absurdly, even with the poor conditions and violence and discomfort and misery, Tycho wished he'd been raised on Earth. But even if he couldn't live that way himself, the least he could do was preserve it.
It was an uphill battle, fighting for isolation rather than integration. And not just with the rest of humanity, since Callista was firmly in the first faction's camp.
And as usual, when it came to arguing her position the silvery-haired woman didn't pull any punches. “Don't you think you're being a bit selfish? There are billions of people suffering on that planet. We can save them all, give them good lives, and it would require no sacrifice at all on our part. You really want to deprive all those people down there who are being murdered, raped, suffering starvation, and all the other horrors, just so you can feel good watching people sharing heartwarming moments?”
Tycho was genuinely taken aback by her points. He hadn't viewed it from that perspective at all. From the perspective of the people this decision would affect most.
Which, he supposed, was the very definition of selfishness.
All he could think to reply with was, “Do we have a right to decide what happens to that planet? We haven't even properly studied them, researched what course would be most beneficial for them. And we certainly haven't asked what they want. Are we going to just eradicate their cultures, their familiar lives, everything that makes them who they are, so we can feel good about ourselves?”
He could almost see her frustration in her transcribed words in the reply. “Why should we have to ask them what they want? They want to not suffer anymore! We're not all as in love with unpleasant experiences as you are. Especially when they have no choice in the matter.”
Ouch.
Callista threw all her debating acumen behind her position, and incredibly her influence had actual weight in a discussion involving hundreds of billions of people. Tycho tried not to view that as a betrayal, and supposed he hoped she wouldn't view his equally impassioned, if less persuasive, opposing position that way either.
Somehow, without ever wanting to, he'd become her debate opponent.
And incredibly, even outnumbered and taking the less superficially feel-good position, the third faction managed to gain momentum. Tycho was surprised to find that his role as the person who'd discovered Earth gave him more weight than he'd expected, and it turned out that many found his notions of leaving the forgotten colony's disparate cultures in peace to develop as they would to be charming, even idealistically romantic.
Somehow, against all odds, the third faction's support drew even with the first faction's. The final victory was when the second faction, almost en masse, decided their only hope of a solution they could stomach was quarantine rather than the outright eradication they wanted, so they threw their support behind the third faction and gave them the solid majority.
Seven hours into the Forum meeting the resolution was passed to order the AI caretakers to isolate the Sol system and keep any and all outside influences from touching Earth. Be it communication attempts, sending supplies or other physical objects, or actual attempts to set foot on the planet.
At the time of the vote attendance had grown to just over 705 billion people, which meant roughly two-thirds of humanity had participated in the decision, and around 400 billion had supported the resolution.
As the allnet became a blizzard of celebratory, grudgingly congratulatory, or bitterly petulant comments, Tycho got a message from Callista in their private conversation. “Well I guess that's that, for better or worse. Meet in your galactic living room to share a bottle of simulated champagne?”
* * * * *
Simulated alcohol triggered the same neuroreceptors as the real stuff, but many preferred it since it wasn't actually present in the system, which meant the level of “drunkenness” could be controlled or even made to go away entirely at a person's leisure.
Of cour
se it had the same habit forming effects as actual alcohol, which was why Tycho tried to be responsible in consuming it.
Usually.
He and Callista curled up together on his couch facing the open view of the Milky Way galaxy, sipping from tall champagne flutes as they pored over various major hubs where the debate still raged about Earth and the significance of its discovery, as well as what to do about it.
They'd already finished off a bottle between them and were making a good start on a second one, and at that point the silvery-haired woman was practically draped across him like a blanket, drowsy and apparently at ease. But in spite of the warm buzz in his mind and the intimate position he sensed an uncharacteristic stiffness, almost aloofness, to Callista's demeanor, as if she was struggling to keep some thoughts bottled in.
And struggling more and more with each glass, her replies becoming more terse and her tone more strained.
He had a feeling it was because of the wildly different positions they'd ended up taking about what to do about Earth. In all their preparations for his presentation neither of them had really discussed what should actually be done about the new planet, aside from broad speculation about the effects of the news itself.
So Tycho took a final sip from his glass, then set it aside and shifted to look into her smoky eyes. “I'd like to hear it, Calli,” he said quietly.
She seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, and didn't waste a moment. “Why are you so down on human civilization?” she demanded. At his confused look she clarified. “Our human civilization, I mean.”
He sighed. “I'm not.”
“You are! I never hear anything from you but what's bad about it, while you show me a place like Earth that seems like a living nightmare in comparison and have nothing but glowing praise! Not only that, but then you act like you want to protect them from us, as if out in the rest of the universe is the horrible place.”
Tycho felt a surge of annoyance, which the alcohol only fueled. He disabled its effects before the lack of inhibitions turned him into a jerk, forcing himself to remain reasonable. “You know that's hardly fair.”
Callista stared at him hard, and then when she spoke next the faint drunken slur was gone from her own voice. In fact her expression was sharp, focused. Almost like during a debate. “Isn't it? Look at what we've accomplished! We've eliminated all violence, all conflict, all suffering. We've had tens of thousands of uninterrupted years of peace and prosperity!”
“We eliminated all conflict by severing all human ties,” Tycho shot back. “Not because it was the best way to live but because it's the easiest, the safest, the most convenient.”
“That sounds like the best way to live to me,” the silvery-haired woman snapped.
“Then why do you spend hours, days even, preparing for debates when you could just show up and use whatever arguments spring to mind? That doesn't seem very easy or convenient.”
Callista opened her mouth, then shut it. “That's completely different.”
“Is it?” Tycho smiled grimly. “Deep down we feel a need to strive, to push for better than what we have. To take worthy risks if the reward is worthwhile, to make sacrifices to reach our goals. To constantly improve. That's what brought humanity into the stars, to where we are today. But somewhere along the way we left that ideal behind, thinking technology had solved that need along with every other one. We threw out the good along with the bad and called it a net benefit.”
“How is it not?” Callista waved her hand at the barred spiral galaxy in front of them. “You spent years exploring the universe. Your current job is exploring the universe! You can go where you like, do what you like, and nobody's stopping you from doing anything. You're never hungry, or cold, or in pain, or in fear of your life. You could spend a billion full lifetimes on the allnet and still not explore all the content available. And your companion is there to meet all your human needs. You could even get more, a whole menagerie of them, if that's your fancy. I know some people who do.”
“All my human needs except my need for other humans.” Tycho trailed his hand down her arm until he could hold her hand, squeezing it gently. “Calli, the time I've spent with you is the only thing in my life that's felt real for as long as I can remember. Your few visits to my estate in the last few months are the only times I've actually enjoyed being there, and my few visits to yours are the first time I've enjoyed space travel in over a decade.”
Her smoky eyes softened, and she settled her other hand atop his and rested her head on his chest. “It's romantic nonsense, Tych. All human perception is colored by feelings. You're happy with what we have because you're happy right now. But once you get bored of me and move on to something else you won't remember our time together with such rose tinted glasses.”
Tycho buried his face in her silvery hair, breathing her in. Beneath the intoxicating perfume she wore was her own scent, which to him was far more alluring. “I won't get bored of you, of this,” he murmured.
Callista just laughed. “It's who you are, Tycho. You've gotten bored of everything in your life so far. You'll get bored of this too. And I won't fault you for it because I'm the same way. All humans are. And once you get tired of me you'll see that what we had was no more special than your time with Eva, and you'll realize that being around real humans isn't some magical cure for the lack of purpose and meaning you feel in your life.”
She lifted his hand in both of hers and kissed it. “Maybe then you'll finally stop looking for what isn't there and let yourself be happy.”
He didn't like hearing that kind of cynicism from her. Especially in regards to what she thought he felt or would do. He shifted around until he could look into her eyes. “I'll never get tired of you.”
“Maybe you won't.” The silvery-haired woman abruptly pressed her mouth to his, slipping her tongue between his lips to seek his out and tease it. Tycho's own mouth opening was more from surprise than in response, and he stared at her closed eyes only inches from his in shock.
This was the first time they'd kissed like this and it caught him completely off guard.
She pulled back after a dizzying few moments to stare at him fiercely. “You won't know one way or another until you stop holding back and let yourself actually experience being with me, won't you?”
“Calli,” he said, voice strained and more aware than ever before of how their bodies were pressed together. “I thought you wanted to take it slow.”
“I changed my mind.” Callista shifted around to straddle his hips, fierce eyes boring into his. “Or am I right, and once we've done everything there is to do together you'll get bored, realize once the novelty has worn off that being with a real human isn't all it's cracked up to be?”
Tycho responded by grabbing her hips and rising to press his mouth to hers again, this time working his tongue between her eagerly parted lips. Callista gave a low moan at his attentions and let the kiss continue for a while before pulling back.
Her face was flushed, voice breathless as her hips began moving beneath his hands. “Either way, it'll be fun while it lasts.”
Chapter Thirteen
Outcomes
When their passion had faded and they were lying in each other's arms on the couch Tycho ran a hand through Callista's silky hair, savoring the fading sensations of what had easily been the best experience of his entire life.
He just wished it could've been in real life, with her, rather than simulated. He knew there was no practical difference but it still felt like they'd missed a chance to have this experience for real.
“I love you,” he suddenly said.
The silvery-haired woman laughed easily and turned her head to kiss his shoulder. “Are you sure that's not just the endorphins released by shared intimacy talking, Tych?”
Tycho lifted her chin with his finger so he could look into her entrancing eyes. “I mean it,” he said quietly. “I can't believe I was lucky enough to find you in the first place I looked. I want to spen
d the rest of my life with you.”
Callista laughed again, although she seemed a bit uncomfortable. With a sigh she drew free of his embrace and restored her clothes to her allnet simile. “We should get back to work, darling. Tides of opinion are constantly shifting, even after the vote's been cast, and we want to be there to help guide them the right way.”
He looked at her in disappointment, slow to restore his own simile's clothing. “Right now?” he asked plaintively. “I wanted this moment to last a bit longer.”
She regarded him, smoky eyes solemn. “You do want to keep working to show everyone Earth as you see it, don't you? As the beautiful, terrible place it is? Right now far too many see only the terror.”
With his own sigh Tycho sat up as well and restored his clothing. But rather than get to work like she'd suggested Callista simply sat there beside him staring pensively at the image of Earth, still floating on the display before them with the work they'd abandoned for more enjoyable pursuits. It was framed by the open void where the Milky Way hung, creating an oddly striking image of the world and its parent galaxy.
Tycho put an arm around her and pulled her close as he also stared at the view. Of the woman he loved looking so entranced, that is; he still couldn't believe how happy he was. And it could only get better once they were together in real life, couldn't it?
“Their world is just so small,” Callista abruptly said as he toyed with her shimmering, unbound hair and stared at his own reflection in it.
He smiled slightly. “It's almost a perfect match for Homeworld.”
She blinked and stared up at him as if she wasn't sure whether he was joking or dense as a neutron star. “They think they're alone. They have no idea that humanity fills a dozen galactic superclusters in the explored universe. No idea of their own kind's ancient and proud history.”
Tycho shrugged, teasing at a slight tangle in her hair until it was as smooth as the rest. “They're still limited to picking up radio signals from space. Most of our communication is either carried through hardlines through permanent rifts or quantum entanglement nodes. Our technology is advanced enough that they can't even detect the traces of it.”
