Leaving Paradise, page 16
He laughed.
‘I'll go and find someone else to talk to,’ she said and blew him a kiss, then walked away and talked to another man. He watched her merrily saunter along the river-front and moved his replacement hand and arm as gently as he could, twitching the fingers and thumb in all directions. Everything right down to the nails looked right, except for the lack of hair. He moved his left hand across and ran it across the palm of his right hand and shivered at the sensitivity. He tapped his hand and then his forearm, as if to check his arm didn't sound hollow or unnatural. It didn't. He lay there waiting for the meeting to occur.
He set off for the meeting hall with time to spare wanting to gauge the atmosphere of those attending, wondering how they had reacted to Sadjika’s words. On the way he was recognised by several people. They approached him warily, and touched him on the shoulder, and said, ‘Hey! Weren't you one of the six explorers; yes, you are the one from this area.’
Zenan turned. ‘Yes, that's right,’ he admitted.
‘It's you who’s going to speak today, then?’
‘Yes.’
He stopped to let them catch up. They were of mixed age and wore multi-coloured clothes. One asked, ‘what did you feel when you left?
‘There was a moment when I didn't want to go. I wondered if I would ever come back,’ he admitted.
They sensed he was feeling uncomfortable and respected his need for peace and moved ahead. He let them get well in front of him and continued onto the auditorium. When he arrived, he was shocked to see so many people, there were far too many people to go into the building, and they would have to watch on the large screens outside. He walked through them unobtrusively. He explained to a co-ordinator who he was and was led to a seat at the front. The vast expanse of the hall was filled with thousands of people talking. He felt apprehensive because he knew the significance of what he would say. A man motioned to Zenan to come forward. He tried to clear his head of all unnecessary thoughts and walked onto the slightly raised platform. When he faced his people, he saw the enormous screen surrounding the room and were filled with images of him. The people gradually grew silent and focused their attention on him.
He self-consciously touched his artificial arm. His voice was shaky initially but the longer he spoke, the firmer he became. He explained his single contact with an inhabited world to the best of his abilities, admitted his lack of knowledge due to his confinement. He avoided nothing - neither his loneliness, the circumstances of his violent actions, the removal of his arm and what he understood of their world. They laughed when he told them of trying to talk to the animals and stamped their feet when he told how he saved Kesh. He explained he had brought a female from that world to here and waited for the uproar. It was his confession to murder which grew the loudest gasps and sporadic shouts of horror and demands for further explanation.
Zenan grew pale and faint at the response, called for a chair and remained seated for the rest of the debate.
‘You say you killed a man for attacking you. Do you attempt to justify your actions?’ A woman sneered at him. She was in turn jeered at, and Zenan carefully explained his feelings of terror and pain. ‘Do you think it is easy for a person such as me, one of you to kill as if it were nothing?’ he replied.
The debate was unlike any he had seen before; there was more passion and even fury visible on the faces of some of the participants. He called on his comm for the City’s AI.
It spoke to the audience explaining the senior City AIs had discussed what Zenan did and agreed no crime was committed. It was certainly no act to be proud of but in the extreme circumstances they should not be shocked at such a reaction. It assured them that anyone thinking of copying the act against a person they disagreed with would find themselves living beyond the shield within a day. Its intervention restored calm.
He was asked for his views on the events Sadjika had described. ‘What are we?’ he said. ‘Do we intend to sit back, in our self-contained world of paradise and do nothing while a sentient race is obliterated? When we knew nothing, we could do nothing. We do not exist merely for pleasure, irrespective of other's suffering. We are Alsouartiscans. What if the enemy come to our world next?’
‘But that,’ a woman said, who said she represented the non-interference movement, ‘is no longer relevant. It spoke of global horror. It did not speak of galactic horror. What are we to be, the new repressors of the galaxy? The enemy are years away and unaware of our existence.’
‘If we let a sentient race be treated in such a way, for their 'arrogance' in expanding to another solar system or for daring to be created, who is to say we are not next as our system of organisation does not fit into their pattern, because it defies their reason. Do we want to sit here, surrounded forever by weapons, fearful of attack entrapped in one tiny part of the galaxy or do we want to be able to travel wherever we want in freedom?’
There was no decision made that day. By the time the meeting ended, it was evening, and he felt hungry. He left in the company of several supporters of the movement for intervention and they took the transit to a distribution point and lay outside and ate.
His mind was working on advancing the intervention plan to its logical conclusion. He left the movement's supporters convinced of the necessity of intervention but beginning to become aware of its shortfalls. Making his way back home by transit, he stopped to perform exercises, only just remembering the Surgeon's warnings over the healing time necessary.
He lay back and thought. He checked his messages. A happy and mockingly indignant Dertuisc noted his lack of appearance at her party and movement. He wondered how they were progressing on the last project he had been involved in - energy efficiency and accessed their work. It seemed so long ago that his mind strained to focus on the work on screen and the equations and statistics. He was annoyed at his temporary loss of ability and so he accessed his personal file. Like every person on his world, his thoughts and feelings could be deposited in the gigantic storage network and be accessed from the screens and portable units. He had the memories in his mind which were partial and imperfect, but the memories contained on the personal file of his vid were real and whole. He saw both still and moving images of people. Notes he'd written and dictated. He laughed and contemplated his files. But he realised what he was looking for was not there.
He went to Kani's room. The door was open, and she wasn't in. He was surprised at her continued absence but imagined she must be immersing herself in new experiences and hoped she was enjoying herself. He returned to his room and decided to indulge himself in a tricky puzzle which he had not been able to complete before he left in the spacecraft. It was a complex three-dimensional puzzle game which he accessed on the screen. He applied sensors to his eyes, which was not compulsory, but which enhanced the experience considerably. He attempted to continue from where he last failed; he tried and tried again but with no success. The intricate slides and arrangements of the puzzle were too much for him. He felt frustrated and decided to play a much easier game. The game was simple, but the number of routes towards the end numbered in the millions. The ending however was only possible in three ways; either the surrender of your enemy, the destruction of your enemy's forces or their capture. It triggered a jolt in his mind, causing him to disengage immediately.
He mulled it over as though he were moving a particularly unattractive piece of food around, examining it thoroughly. The principle was very simple; the way to overcome your enemy was to make it so that they did not exist at all. Extermination would achieve this, but it was unthinkable. The solution was to turn you enemies into you. If they were able to defeat the Regulian forces in combat but the causes of the conflict were not changed then it would be merely suppressing the inevitable war which would occur again. The cause of the war might superficially be seen as racial or xenophobic but he wondered if it was due to a conflict of resources, as a result of the Regulian economic organisation. He asked City One’s AI for advice. It agreed that there was no military solution to the conflict that was acceptable, on the question of how to turn the Regulians into good Communal citizens the AI would only say ‘it would not be easy and would take centuries if they were agreeable to the process. You would need to persuade our people that such a course of action was beneficial to both our societies.’
Such a policy if adopted would mean control or involvement of their populated worlds, perhaps containing tens of billions of people. Yes, he thought, they would be interfering, but they would have allies and supporters from the indigenous population and they would support them and back them until they ruled their respective worlds. They could fly flights of huge craft with food and equipment to distribute it free across the worlds and help them towards paradise which they had here.
He leapt up and ran down the stairs to air his suggestion. ‘Sisters and brothers,’ he began. ‘Would you comment on my thoughts on the logical conclusion to the policy of intervention?’
They could see the eagerness in his demeanour and they halted their conversations gradually and allowed him to speak.
They listened to him in silence. When he had finished, they chorused. ‘It's utterly monstrous.’
‘It's impossible, unfeasible and lacks all notions of ethics,’ cried another. Others remained calm and offered differing criticisms.
Zenan answered them, ‘we all are agreed that we would wish all people and animals to enjoy life as we do on our world, do we not? We differ only in our approach to the end?’
They all agreed.
‘The spirit of Alsouartiscan freedom comes from within. It is not imposed on us by some Alien power. Are we to become the galactic enforcers of our view of how people are permitted to live?’ A young man stated.
Zenan replied, ‘every year an entire world of people continue to exist as billions of animals will die for their sake and people will live lives of prejudice, insecurity, and utter lack of power and control of their destinies. If we are able to stop it, we must - from the logic of ending all suffering caused by mankind it must be carried out as soon as possible.’
‘The task is virtually impossible. The utter enormity of it is unimaginable. We have no Army of soldiers to battle on planets. We number a billion people. How many would want to die for others to be free?’
‘Impossible – you are expressing pessimistic thoughts. When it concerns changing or altering human behaviour never mention the word 'impossible'.’
A fair-haired woman who sat intently listening said, ‘we wouldn't need an army of people - we would gain enough support from the inhabitants of the world. Even if we didn't we could manufacture Sentinels to fight on the surface of planets.’
‘Sentinels?’ asked a young man.
‘Yes,’ continued the woman, ‘the metallic entity projects. They are quite old now. We have little need for them here. But we could upgrade them and then we could manufacture hundreds of thousands more.’
‘You're calmly planning the deaths of maybe millions, if not billions of persons who would fight against us!’ A man who looked aghast said, ‘no one will ever support you!’
Zenan said, ‘these are new thoughts for us. There will be resistance, but we must plan our strategy for the aftermath of the war with the fleet heading towards the Clax's solar system. To get here, to where we are in terms of our organisation of our society would on any world cost perhaps millions of lives, is that any reason to try and halt it? I can’t imagine so many dying; there must be those we could ally with?’
‘It sounds terribly dangerous.’
‘Yes, but if we can turn them into living like us then future war between us would be impossible,’ the fair-haired woman responded.
‘If we defeat them, we will be at a decisive juncture in our role in this part of the galaxy,’ stated Zenan, standing up. He thought, if I can convince one person within a few minutes and she can convince one, within days it will spread among many people. He was only seeking to awaken the idea within each one of them. The fair-haired woman who had supported him in the argument told him her name was Cinel. They agreed to split up and start to spread the idea.
Dertusic thought the idea was excellent and told him that she'd heard the same ideas being put forward elsewhere. ‘If it were to work,’ she said, ‘it would mean that every person near us in the galaxy could be living like we are within a few generations. Wouldn't that be wonderful beyond belief?’
‘It would bliss,’ he agreed.
He discussed, advanced and spread his idea to everyone he met. The following day, Zenan found that sixteen thousand kilometres away the debate was raging over what would occur after the war. He went to his room and said the number for City One’s main AI. It responded and he wondered how many thousands of simultaneous conversations it was able to have. He greeted it and asked it again about the idea of turning the alien humans into communal people.
‘If that is possible it would mean an end to war between humans. Several people put this idea forward before you yesterday.’
He was glad others had thought of it before him, ‘do you believe it is possible though?’
‘We have so little information on the Regulian Empire it is not possible to predict the outcome, however such an aim is agreeable to us. We would enjoy controlling such worlds and ensuring the happiness of the humans there.’
‘I’m glad you agree.’
‘There is large opposition to the idea; centuries of isolation mean a culture of non-interference. However, the empathy of people means many will desire such an outcome. It will be an interesting debate.’
He thanked City One for its advice.
21. Vacation
He decided upon a trip to the rain-forest regions to the south of where City One lay. Zenan stayed at Forest Centre Three for three days - a day longer than he anticipated. He played games, watched holos and found companionship. In the confines of the forest centre and with the surgeon computer's warning in his memory, Zenan refrained from practising his unarmed combat skills. He took the hyper-speed train back to City One but decided to walk back the several kilometres back to his home. He picked one of the many open spaces in the city, which was given shade by a nearby building and began to practice.
He had been unable to do this while on Teres, initially because he was distracted by the visit to another world, then during his imprisonment he wanted to give the impression of his vulnerability. He wondered how slow his reactions would be. He removed his tunic and began to stretch and warm-up. The hairs on his replacement arm were growing.
He relaxed and loosened every relevant part of his body, and began. He practised every kick, punch, every hand technique and every block that he knew, in all stances, on every side, imagining attackers from every angle. He practised every series of pre-arranged moves, until the perspiration flowed, and his breath grow shorter. He trained for several hours, patiently and with meticulous replication. He started slowly at first, cautious of his arm but it felt normal so he trained at near full power. He thought back to killing the man and became annoyed at the way he had been so easily caught unaware. It was unexpected and shocking, and the pain was intense. He’d been hit numerous times while practising self-defence, but with padding, few strikes felt as painful as being struck hard in his unprotected groin.
The concept of self-defence was considered redundant and out of place on his world and Zenan received incomprehension and sometimes distaste when certain people became aware he studied the art. Running, swimming or general exercise invariably soon bored him and both the knowledge that he was learning techniques which were over a thousand years old and the careful supervision and progress and even competitions made it enjoyable. The Alsouartiscan way was to allow people, within certain boundaries to pursue whatever they enjoyed.
He sat up and meditated. He heard a voice seemingly coming from far away, which brought him out of his trance and opened his eyes. There was quite a large man standing over him.
‘Hi! Do you remember me?’ The man laughed.
The man had fair hair, blue eyes, was taller than himself and wore similar attire to his clothes.
‘Possibly.’ Zenan said, hesitating.
‘Well, perhaps it brings up... unpleasant memories?’
‘Yes... I do remember you.’ Zenan stood.
‘I saw you practising... you look like you've only just started again after a long break. Have you?’
He remembered the man was called Martic and had beat him in a competition a year before. He invited Zenan to take part in a tournament.
He entered as an individual, because he wanted to have the opportunity of fighting with Matric and to test his skills. The competition was carried out under the rules which Zenan preferred; fully padded. It was a betrayal of the original intention of the art and unrealistic but since serious injury and even death could result due to unintentional blows it was the only way except for virtual.
He won several bouts, against less experienced opposition but did not meet Martic, was defeated in the next round, and retired with some of the combatants to the bar for a drink. He noticed in the corner of the room there was an obscured sign, and though he could only read the two letters he grew excited at what he thought was around the corner. It was a hoverfield. He asked several of the people present whether they would join in with him but they all declined energetically. This was unsurprising since it was a potentially dangerous game but one on which Zenan relentlessly practised on simulations for thousands of hours, and experienced hundreds of hours of it for real until he was good. The only danger was the unpredictably of fellow fliers as collisions at full velocity were potentially dangerous.
After much persuasion and talking he finally managed to persuade three other people to come and have a game with him but they only agreed to simulation. Rasthra was a woman who had fought well in the unarmed combat competition and was keen to challenge Zenan in flying. He enjoyed the experience of flying in general, even if simulation was second best and respected her skills, so he switched to playing as though he were playing for his own life. Zenan and Ilsk improved their tactics and scored until they were almost level. The game was not without incident; once with a free ball, floating after a re-start, Rasthra and Zenan appeared to be on a collision course to grasp it and they flouted the rules and did not veer to their left when the crucial moment came or reverse their power, but instead, dived above and below one another, somersaulting and coming back to attempt to reach it again. They did collide with one another one in a drifting slide, trying to intercept the passed ball.
