Existence

spreading onward to even newer worlds, then there’d eventually be fierce competition over the best planets, the best resources. You’d get interstellar empires with boundaries and battle fleets and neutral zones and all the cliches that we saw in old time sci fi.”

The starscape in front of Gerald blossomed with three colors-red, green, and yellow-that started as small, isolated blobs, but grew and expanded, then inevitably splashed against one another, then spread sideways, each color trying to find a way around the other. Friction at the border generated sparks and the appearance of heat.

“Things could get pretty tense-if that were the way of things. Of course, this model assumes we’re dealing with classic expansionism which depends upon being able to move about physically, with ease.

“But what if interstellar travel is really hard to do?” he continued. “Then a species makes do with its homeworld, plus maybe a few-or a few dozen-colonies. On the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t matter. Their main agenda for the galaxy as a whole would be exploration and contact. Friendly and advantageous cultural relations.

“Plus the spreading of values.

“We know that cultures do that. They not only want to contact other societies, but to influence them, to change them, to recruit them, in much the same way that religious proselytes try to win converts. They do this for the simple reason that it sometimes works! And when it does work that idea system gets stronger and spreads farther.

“Say, for example, we made radio contact with some neighboring planet and found the inhabitants to be likable folks-except that we also discovered they practiced slavery. Well, at minimum, we’d try to talk them out of it. If we had technological advances to offer them, we might even make that a price of admission. Liberate the oppressed or we won’t give you that cure for warts. Are you with me so far?”

Gerald nodded. He took another bite of his sandwich but had no idea how it tasted. The model had all of his attention.

“Okay. So, let’s take a look at what happens when we have three advanced civilizations, as before, starting out amid a starscape that has many abodes of life, some of it already sapient.” Ben waved his hand, starting over. “This time, however, the three advanced races ‘spread’ by sending friendly contact probes to neighboring intelligent races, recruiting them into their own loose cultural networks.”

Again you had the same colored origin points amid a dusting of grayish stars. But now, little dots moved away from each civilized core. Sometimes a dot sent by a red sun toward a gray one would turn that new star red, meaning that a cultural conversion had taken place. Whereupon soon that new site of red culture would send out more red dots of its own. Bypassing stars that had already turned yellow or green, these streaked eagerly toward any gray lights that weren’t yet aligned with any faction.

“Remember that it does you no good to stay neutral, refusing to join any of these alignments. Because they do offer advantages, access to libraries of advanced technology and rich cultural traditions. Generally speaking, your only option as a newcomer is to pick the best offer, ideally one that’s compatible with your needs and your particular species’ predilections.”

Gerald thought. Sure, it’s fine to recommend that we be picky and careful, listening to all sides… until you factor in human impatience when promised immortality!

Ben seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

“I imagine it can sometimes be a matter of whoever gets to make a pitch first. I bet they have over time developed a real science of salesmanship. Closing the quick deal.”

In the simulation, dots were now seen flying past each other all over the place, sometimes leaping great distances, all in a desperate flurry to steal a march on their rivals, finding more stars-or new sapient species-to convert. And while some isolated regions might go uniformly with a particular color, most were soon a messy weave of all three tones.

“Now picture this happening with more colors… maybe dozens of separate, zealous cultural memes, all of them eagerly dispatching missionaries.”

With blue and pink and orange and purple added in, the starscape was rapidly becoming a confused, spaghetti tangle of multihued warp and weft.

“You can see that, in this cultural competition, a real advantage goes to whichever society creates the most emissaries, sending them on farthest and fastest. And to those who are the most persuasive. And sometimes… those who just happen to be lucky, getting an envoy in at the right place and time.”

Gerald blinked. It did seem pretty obvious from Flannery’s simulation. Appalling, but obvious.

“Very interesting, Ben,” he replied, meaning it sincerely. “But, um, doesn’t all of this depend upon there already being a planet with a sapient race, orbiting around each of these gray candidate stars. Sapients who are ready to be converted?”

“Yes-”

“But it can take a long time for such a species to arise on a world, as it did on Earth. And so… oh, I see.”

He did, indeed. Ben performed another magicianlike flourish and his next simulation appeared. It showed dots of many colors converging on a likely planet till the surrounding solar system positively swarmed with eager recruitment envoys from every color. And those envoys then tarried, like drones hovering around a bee hive, waiting for as long as it would take for a new queen to emerge. Each of them eager to be the lucky, chosen one.

“All right,” he told the anthropologist. “This theory might explain why all these probes on, near, under, and above the Earth seem so jealous and hostile toward one another. Even if they come from the same meme-alliance… say, the Blues… they’ll still differ in which planet sent them, or when. Hence the particularism. The petty jealousy.

“It’s a pretty convincing model, Ben.”

“Thank you.” The blond professor seemed pleased.

“Only then…” Gerald frowned. “How do you explain the Oldest Member’s words? When he claimed that the species and civilizations out there don’t compete with one another?”

Flannery shrugged.

“Translation error. Recall that they learned English from our own encyclopedias and wikis, where ‘competition’ is generally taken to involve physical activity-like war or sports or capitalism. That has to be it!”

“But Ben, our histories do contain clear examples of missionary expansionism that involved the spread of cultural memes, just as in this model. So surely they would know that our word ‘competition’ also applies to-”

“I’m certain it’s a simple glitch in meaning.” Flannery nodded, eagerly. “Together we’ll uncover it. Just keep at it, my friend, poking them from every angle.

“Anyway,” Ben continued. “It seems that we’ll soon have a lot more artifacts to work with. Even if all the ‘others’ now being recovered on Earth turn out to be too badly damaged, it should be fairly easy to find intact ones in space. Already there’s discussion of joint recovery expeditions. China is even talking about pulling its Big Cheng lifters out of mothballs. It really is important that we learn what all of these messenger probes have to say, before committing to anything!”

Gerald nodded, agreeably. Yet he had a cynical, private thought.

This, from the fellow who was in such an eager rush, only an hour ago, to join the Galactic Federation?

He had to admit that Ben’s model of rival cultures appeared feasible and plausible and fit most of the facts.

It was also somewhat depressing to picture the galaxy in this state-a petty, relentless struggle for cultural converts, spanning perhaps hundreds of millions of years and spilling across the sky, leaving little room for new thoughts, open ideas. To have to choose from just a dozen or so cultural norms… even from hundreds… well, who would find that a pretty picture?

Well, it beats being conquered by some oppressive, monolithic alien empire, I suppose. And some