Historical Account of Ilfeq, Crewman of the Xlnfrag

It had been a few days since we had established the settlement on the planet which, by now, is officially known as Aldous IV, although back then we had taken to call it Huxley. I don't know where the name came from, but it stuck. The humans had, by and large, adapted to the new circumstances: The complaints about having to wear masks outside had decreased significantly, as had proclamations of planning to engage in sexual intercourse with either the suits or the planet. At the time I already knew that those were not to be taken literally, yet I found them quite entertaining for their absurdity. In general, the mission seemed to be going well. Quite ironic, I think, considering it was rather shortly before the massacre.

It came as a rather big surprise for me when I was called to the office of Captain Ishiim. I had not expected that he would have any issue with my work, you understand, and in my nervousness did not consider any reason other than dissatisfaction for the summon. It was in the evening, after my shift for the day, so initially I believed that I must have made a mistake. But I couldn't think of anything. In fact, I couldn't think of any error I could have made in my time on the Xlnfrag at all, not of one that would justify being called to the Captain on such short notice. I had been mostly successful in my endeavours to calm disputes between crew members, regardless of their species, I had filed my reports in time, and I had made various proposals for a more effective way of dealing with certain issues. Yet I was so restless, so afraid, that I thoughtlessly greeted a Worker as he passed me. The poor Item'qar clearly didn't know what to do with that. In the time before the war, you have to understand, a Warrior would only address a Worker in order to give him a command. So a Warrior greeting him and just leaving was a very confusing situation for him.

It did not take too long for me to reach the Captain's office, a comparatively large cabin and one of the very few with a door. That was because things spoken by those of high rank are obviously more risky than those spoken by their subordinates. In order to give a superior the ability to avoid a panic breaking out among the crew, you first had to give him the ability to shut out everyone from discussions and reports concerning such things as a failure of the hyperdrive, a fuel leak, issues with the life support system, food scarcity and so on. Also, of course, secret assignments. It would be very strange indeed if briefings for undercover missions were audible to everyone who passed the office.

Oh, I'm getting sidetracked again, aren't I? I'm sorry. Well, I opened the door, entered the office, and saw the Inquisitor. Tell me, are you old enough to remember the Inquisitors? You see, they were the fifth caste, and aside from the Leaders, they outranked absolutely everyone as long as their services were required. They studied our laws, and the laws of other species as well, and they decided whether or not a crime had occurred. And if that was the case, they decided on the sentence. Seeing a Inquisitor was not a good thing. They meant trouble.

Which is why it was probably a good thing that Captain Ishiim immediately said to me: "Inquisitor Traal is not here for you, Problem Solver Ilfeq", or else I might have lost my mind. Oh, sure, chuckle all you want. You don't know what that was like. No one, and I mean no one, made sure that an Inquisitor did his job properly. They had almost completely unchecked power over any Warrior, Thinker, or Worker. The only way one had to question their verdicts was to appeal to the Head Inquisitors, but if they chose to uphold the original verdict, one would be in even bigger trouble for wasting their valuable time.

Anyway, it didn't take me long to regain my composure, and when I looked around the room – larger than the average cabin precisely because there would be meetings like this with several people, but still rather cramped – I noticed a Thinker standing opposite to the Inquisitor. I considered my options. I went with the Thinker. A bit of arrogance is a lot better than the thought that your executioner is standing next to you.

"These are Inquisitor Traal and Thinker Asilish. In a few minutes, Thinker Chx is scheduled to join us via his interface. He and Thinker Asilish will give their insight in human biology and culture. I would usually not have invited you, nor Inquisitor Traal, to attend this exchange, but your services and expertise have been requested for a later part of this meeting. Any questions?"

"Yes, Captain Ishiim", I responded, "but I believe they will be clarified over the course of the discussion."

The Captain nodded. "They just might. If at any time-" his interface gave a signal and he stopped talking. A moment later, the voice of Thinker Chx filled the room.

"Captain Ishiim."

"Thinker Chx. You are listened to by Thinker Asilish, Inquisitor Traal, and Problem Solver Ilfeq, as well as myself, of course. Begin by giving your report in your position as the ship's xenobiologist, please."

"All I can do, really, is sum up the facts that I have already mentioned in my reports. The Terrans lack in mental capacity compared to all other sapient species that we have encountered. They are on an evolutionary stage where physical capabilities are valued higher than intelligence. However, interestingly enough, they are currently at a turning point in their history that opens up absolutely fascinating possibilities for the future. I will return to that at a later point." The Thinker made a short break, possibly to go through what he was about to say one last time.

"They have an underdeveloped immune system when compared to us, but ample vaccines to prevent most of them. However, their medications is by and large focused on fighting the symptoms of a disease, rather than destroying it's cause. I believe that, if we offer them the knowledge and technology to change that, it will give a great deal of support to those politicians willing to join the Confederacy. That is probably our easiest way of achieving that. I have repeatedly warned the High Leaders not to choose conquest. Do not misunderstand me: There is no way we would lose to the human race. They lack weapons technology capable of breaking through our shields. But at some point or another, we would have to go down onto the planet. Which brings me to my next point:

They are vastly superior to us in terms of physical strength, with the exception of our Workers. The gravity of their world is forty point eight five percent higher than on Ite'sheshyn. In the gravity that is provided by our ship, they are capable of carrying a very large amount of weight. In turn, we would be heavily weakened by Earth's gravity should we invade. They would throw away their weapons and come at us with nothing but their hands and teeth, if need be.

Let me emphasize: We would crush them. But there would be losses on our side, too. Easier to just offer them the medical technology."

Captain Ishiim seemed to consider that for a moment. Then he gestured to Thinker Asilish. "Give us your account, please."

"Thinker Chx is correct, both to claim that we would easily win a war with humanity, and to advise not to make that attempt regardless. Historically, they seem to not take well to being conquered. While they acknowledge the measures of their rulers to join a new state or pass a law they disagree with, it has to be a decision their rulers make without force. That, however, applies to the democracies only. At the current time, there are five great powers on Earth, who have divided the rest of the countries so that each of them has a hegemony over a large part of the planet. These five countries are the only democratic countries that are left. The only other nation where for which that was true, Britain, was crushed in a war just recently. All the other governments are of collective character. That may sound surprisingly progressive. But do not be fooled: The leaders of each country are dependent on the support of their regional hegemony, and will not support us against their will."

"As far as I am aware", said Captain Ishiim, "The High Leaders want to go for the diplomatic approach anyway. All these difficulties will not matter then. But do you think they will indeed be suitable for membership in the Confederacy? Have they achieved the necessary wisdom and ethics?"

I remember that Thinker Asilish scratched his throat with his antennae at this point. He seemed a little uncomfortable, but did not yet say anything. Instead, I took the chance and gave my input to the conversation: "Captain Ishiim. Thinkers. Inquisitor Traal. I may be out of place, but I believe the humans are indeed capable of joining us, and of fulfilling our standards. They are quite capable of warfare and willing to fight, as is obvious by the fact that we share this ship with soldiers. But they have high ethics, too. Their rules are strict, and give high penalties to those that would harm non-combatants. A human seems almost incapable of harming another human in anything other than a case of panic or emergency."

It was then that Thinker Asilish spoke again. It was apparent that he chose his words very carefully, like he was afraid to cause a premature reaction, and as he spoke I understood why:

"It is true, Problem Solver, that they have strict rules. And I can confirm that the commanders make sure everyone remains, by and large, disciplined and sticks to the rules. But I have reason to believe that these primates, while usually polite and civilized, have a capability for horrible deeds. In my research about their culture, they have opened up about a lot of their history, although of course they were not fully qualified Thinkers, nor the human equivalent to our kind. Men and women from all three nations were very open about most things that are three hundred Terran years or more in the past. But the closer you get to the present, the less they reveal – until the current century, about which they speak freely. I know very little, in fact almost nothing, about the one before, the twentieth century, as they call it. Let me be clear: Two of their most influential spiritual icons, Jesus the Anointed and the Awakened One, teach to live moral lives and not to give in to the instinct to fight. They teach to practice kindness and selfless behaviour. Others speak about responsibility, about protecting the innocent, and of honour and self-sacrifice. Noble concepts, all of them. Human philosophy and religion can give the impression of the most peaceful sapient species we have ever encountered. But I do not think that that is accurate. I believe something happened in that twentieth century. I do not know what it was, but I know it must have been terrible. So terrible, in fact, that all three nations represented on the Xlnfrag have ordered their soldiers not to speak of it."

There was silence for a few moments. Naturally, that didn't have to mean anything that would be considered bad on a cosmic scale. Yet the implication was quite horrifying. Today, we know what happened in the twentieth century. And we know that the humans were quite capable of reproducing those horrors. But back then, we could only guess. And Thinker Asilish did just that:

"My focus has, so far, been on the nations of France, Germany, and America, as those are the home countries of the humans on board. But there seem to be similar gaps in history when it comes to two of the other superpowers, namely Russia and China. It appears that the humans on board have also been ordered not to disclose those aspects of history. I cannot be sure, but I think that the events of the twentieth century may also be related to the second issue this meeting is about, namely Daniel Sylber's disobedience."

"Yes", said Captain Ishiim. "We'll come to that in a moment. Thinker Chx, you mentioned something about a turning point?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. Very interesting to me, you see, but as of right now it is merely a theory. As you may know, physical prowess becomes less valuable as a society progresses. Since machines are capable of doing much of the physically draining work, a progressing culture will instead put more value and emphasis on the intelligence of it's members. Over the course of time, and we are talking thousands and thousands of years here, it will lead to a species that is incredibly intelligent, but physically far weaker than before. But that does not erase the necessity for a group to do elementary physical work in the absence of machines, or in the event that the production of machinery is too expensive. And this is where the feudal character of Earth comes into play. You see, physical labour and the basic tasks of production for a variety of things have been moved from the powerful nations to the less powerful ones in relatively recent history. Should this trend remain the same, we might deal with a two class species in about twenty thousand years. North Americans, Europeans, Russians, Chinese, and Indians would be the intellectual classes, while people from other continents, namely Africa, South America, and Australia, would be the working classes. This might manifest in their biology to an extent where it would seem impossible to change that society. Already, we see hints of that, although they are not that strong as of yet."

"I'll leave that to you Thinkers. An interesting thought, certainly, but not of importance for the next few millennia. I would then close the this part of the meeting and move on to the reason Inquisitor Traal and Problem Solver Ilfeq are here." His voice turned heavy at that point. "Major Daniel Sylber, currently the commanding officer of the German nationals on the Xlnfrag, has been charged with disobedience and revolution of the first degree by the Inquisitor following a report of Thinker Chx. Naturally, the penalty is decided by Inquisitor Traal, but he agreed to hear your input on how best to deal with this situation, Problem Solver, as you have more experience with human behaviour and norms than he does. Thinker Chx' presence via the interface is necessary because it was his report that started all this, and Thinker Asilish might have valuable insight on human culture that will help the Inquisitor come to a decision as well."

Everyone fell silent, and all eyes were on me. But I couldn't say anything for a rather long time. Too heavy were the implications of what had just been said. Too heavy also the responsibility that I realized had just been put on my shoulders. If we – if I – messed this up, the consequences could be disastrous. It might make it inconceivable for the humans to join the Confederacy if they felt we had overreacted. At the same time, order had to be established. Disobedience could not be tolerated. But oddly enough, all these facts fell silent in my mind as a single sentence echoed through my memories:

I wish Daniel nothing but the best.

Daniel Sylber was a friend of Grenouille, that one human that had grown on me so much. How could I remain cold, remain neutral? But even worse, how could I explain, how could I justify that I could not remain neutral?

You'd think that this was it, wouldn't you? That somehow, this was my great failure, the incredible mistake that caused the massacre and eventually lead to the war: That I failed to remain neutral and somehow convinced Inquisitor Traal to let Daniel Sylber get off easy. But you'd be dead wrong. Because that's not what happened. My failure was that I did not convince the Inquisitor of anything.

Daniel Sylber

Life was good. Of course it was good. It had to be good, because if it wasn't good, then... No. Life was good. Joan was angry with him, and that wasn't good, but he'd fix it, wouldn't he? He would apologize, even though he didn't think that anything he had done actually warranted an apology. He would lie to his friend and tell her that he understood why she reacted the way she did, and that he was sorry.

He did not actually understand it though. Joan had entered the tent, seen Elizabeth Birch, and immediately come up with an excuse that was good enough to fool the Lieutenant, but not Daniel. He had only wanted to make her happy. That was what he was supposed to do, for crying out loud. But he couldn't afford to think that way. Under no circumstances could he afford to lose Joan. Three people, in the entire universe just three people, that he cared about enough to abandon everything, and she had been the only one of them to still talk to him: After London, his sister Annika had told him he was dead to her, and Alina, the only girlfriend he had ever had, had very calmly declared that she thought he needed some time without her after he decided to join the army.

Why are the only people I care about women?, he wondered, not for the first time regretting that self-analysis, and subsequently self-diagnosis, were pretty much impossible. But he was somehow very sure that Freud had something to say about that, although it would probably be something terribly inaccurate, because it was Freud who'd say it.

He looked at his ArmyCom to check the time. He was supposed to take over from Olivia's night shift in twenty-five minutes. Twenty-three, actually. Daniel got up, yawned, and made his way to the shower.

The good thing about a military haircut was that you didn't have to spend a lot of time tending to your hair. It took a lot of effort out of the daily morning routine and gave you a few minutes more time at the very least. Olivia Graupe knew that as well, which was why she'd refused the privilege of female soldiers to let their hair grow as they liked. Well, that, and the fact that Graupe would rather choke on her own vomit and blood than be treated differently for being a woman. When he'd first met her, he thought she was just weird. But she had turned out to be one of the most reliable comrades he got to work with in the entire war. He'd been happy when he found out that she survived London. If she played her cards well and didn't make any stupid mistakes in the foreseeable future, she might rise up through the ranks even faster than him.

He chuckled at that. He was pretty sure that his career was not going to last much longer. He'd called in every favour he'd been owed to be brought on board the Xlnfrag against the governments will. The first mistake he made from now on would be reason enough to discharge him from service, he was sure of it.

The politicians hadn't wanted him on the mission because they knew he hated them. The same Presidential Council, the same Chancellor, and the same minister of defence that had ordered him to lead his people into suicide. He'd disobeyed, obviously. He had not been about to grant those gods that he hated more than anything the pleasure of watching him die young, and his subordinates had simply deserved better than to die as cannon fodder. To be fair, about half of them died anyway, but at least he'd gotten the job done without blowing the rest of them up.

And of course, Annika was not about to do him any favours, either. Her own career in the Alliance's Ministry of Extra-Terrestrial Affairs was going well, and he knew for a fact that she had tried to stop his admission to the Xlnfrag until the moment the ferry had taken off. Not that he blamed her. We're all alone now, Annika, he thought. The gods managed to turn us against each other. You have Granduncle Friedrich, but he won't make it for much longer. He wasn't worried about her. If there had ever been