Still, he found the overall prospect stifling. And this sure did put an end to the great big dreams of youth-all those gaudy, wondrous visions of cruising the galaxy in starships.
Oh well. Too bad.
That cloud of gloom followed him to the men’s room and back. It hovered overhead as he conferred with Akana and the others about their next set of questions for the Artifact aliens.
Even as Gerald sat back down at the big table, checked his notes, and ordered the house lights dimmed, knowing that no human being in the history of his species ever had a bigger audience, he was still thinking about Ben Flannery’s model.
Just as he prepared to reconvene the question and answer session, Gerald realized.
The Oldest Surviving Member still wore that beatific smile, hands folded across a broad belly that jiggled in a manner that struck Gerald as… well, jolly.
A virt glowed in the corner of Gerald’s percept. One of many that flowed in from the Advisers’ Gallery, got bounced from Hermes to Tiger, and then passed to Ramesh and Genady and the others on the Contact Team. This one had an especially high topic relevance score.
Several amsci-posses and Fourth Estate studios have studied this Oldest Member character and a slim majority conclude he’s a fake! A composite, formulated with elements of Buddha and Santa Claus and several other reassuring archetypes, drawn from our own mythology.
Several high-rated Post-its were attached to that first message.
Yes, but also look at the ninety or so aliens behind him! Many of them are twitching their hands and/or manipulator organs, or speaking, without turning toward each other. These motions reach a crescendo, seconds before the Oldest Member starts talking. Statistical analysis suggests they
Another replied, just as cogently.
So? Is that a bad thing? We demanded they come up with some shared way to talk to us. This is a logical solution. What bothers me is they didn’t tell us. That they believe this fooled us. Do they think we’d actually expect the most influential member of their society to just happen to be charmingly humanoid! What do they take us for?
One more gloss commentary lifted above the others.
Should we let them go on thinking that?
It came accompanied by a quick-vote of the contact committee, approved by Akana.
Yes, we should. At least till this hypothesis is confirmed.
Gerald nodded. Fine by him. His plate was already full of prioritized questions. It hardly mattered whether the jocund-looking figure in front of him was a simulation of a simulated being, or merely concocted to look like one.
He leaned forward, speaking directly and clearly toward the Artifact.
“We wish to know more about the commonwealth or society that we have been invited to join,” he said. “So I have a list of questions.”
The Oldest Member’s smile only widened. Om bowed once, in clear readiness to answer.
“First,” Gerald asked, “is there a hierarchy of rights and privileges among you? One based upon age, perhaps? Can newcomers expect limitations, joining with relatively little knowledge?”
The emissary spread his hands apart, giving an impression of self-deprecating modesty.
The eldest can expect small gestures of respect but I am obviously not one to dominate others!
Om then brought both hands forward, palm-upward.
If you join us, expect the privileges of full membership from the very start.
Gerald wasted no attention for the murmur of satisfaction that arose, behind him. He hurried on to the next question.
“Will we gain immediate access to your society’s store of information, history, technologies, and other wisdom?”
Gerald almost held his breath. Here was where he expected Elder Races to waffle, to start talking about
Yes.
Gerald blinked, surprised by the simplicity. On impulse, he ignored the agreed-upon queue of questions, to follow up.
“That’s it?
“You mean
Certainly. All of it. Why not?
“And what will be required of us, in exchange?” Gerald asked next. Many anxious discussions had flurried over the issue of payment, should the aliens ask for it. Would it be in the form of Earthling culture, music, literature, to be beamed to their homeworlds? Or in services? Or (according to Ben Flannery’s model) committing to a particular belief system?
Not that
In exchange, we ask nothing except that you act in your own self-interest maximizing your own potential to survive. To continue and to replicate down the ages of time. If you seek this, we shall help. We offer the means of survival.
A crescendo of virts pressed in from all sides. Excited comments and queries with high relevance scores, gisted from people or groups with peerless reputations. Each seemed to press a different aspect of the “survival” issue- some desperate matter that might be improved with alien science and methods.
Overcoming environmental damage to the planetary ecosystem.
Solving the water and energy shortages.
Decoding the riddle of life and disease.
Deciphering mysteries of the mind.
Resolving conflict and putting an end to violence.
Answers about God and salvation.
Confronting the riddle of death.
The lattermost had already been promised, enticingly. Now details appeared to be imminent.
But Gerald knew that it was too soon to get into specifics. Not wanting to play devil’s advocate, he still could not stop himself from following the pull of his own curiosity.
“But… aren’t you concerned that we might…
Such things happen. But the knowledge that we share should ensure your survival. And most of the problems that now vex you should vanish like a bad memory.
While most people reacted positively to that response, with smiles and sighs, Gerald caught a warning glance from Akana, not to diverge from the script again without consulting her. He nodded and cleared his throat, then spoke straight from the list.
“Please tell us about the federation of worlds that we are invited to join.”
Gerald saw his sentence enter the Artifact as a string of letters that divided and mutated into more than seven dozen different streams of characters, each zeroing in upon a different alien figure. At first Om-the Oldest
