Far outside, in an absolute benighted system, at the southern end of the remote Walker Cloud, shines an insignificant small Red Dwarf next to its big brother...a small yellow star. Around it, in a distance of approximatly 20 million miles, an even more insignificant desert planet turns its dreadful ellipses, which life forms were not even able to take the next step in evolution; consisting only of microbes, bacteria and, here and there, some cell accumulations.
Such is the insignificance of that planet that creation itself has lost interest in it.
If evolution had not abonded all hope on this cosmic sauna, local hypothetical animals with hypothetical eyes would see a drastic change in their not hypothetical insignificance if they crawled over the Permanent Dune G03 in Sector Gamma 9. And that, nearly over night!
In the midst of nowhere, at the edge of a great arid plain and the sandy desert of this very dune, close to an oasis, first robotic, and then organic workers started to build a provisional settlement. All modules; from H-fueled generators, hydrocultural green houses, archology domes to living quarters have all been delivered, erected and connected within the last six days.
And now, on the seventh day, the builders are standing outside the settlement around a grey pad with a silvery shuttle on it; cheering euphorically for the reason of their efforts:
Out of the vessel, one by one, people wearing white coats, designer-glasses, name plates made of platin and over-prized notebooks in leather suitcases made of extinct Gaian species, descended with a arrogant glance at, in their eyes, ordinary growling people while ignoring them as hard as they can. A snooty group of bigwigs, with an ego of the size of a gas giant, isn't it?
And the worst thing is...
...I am part of them.
As the last of the shuttle's passengers, my humble self, Hans von Goeben, walks down the gangway, the rest of the team, together with most welcomers, have already started to hike towards the installation. The remaining workers did not take and carry Hans' luggage for him, unlike the one of his scientifical associates. Maybe his shabby, worn-out coat, taped glasses and jeans make him look like the rest of the servant crew who are following right behind him...
Hans sighs and starts to tug his suitcase through the sand of the desert; catchingup with his rest.
Here he is now, Hans thinks, having one of the most well paid jobs a freelancing scientist like him can get on the free market. Working for a renowned indipendent research group, having the luck to get chosen by their committee to be the biological expert for the team they were creating.
"Only get to Planet Wiesbaden in Omega 54, a forgotten desert world", they said,
"Analyse some extremophiles and micro-organisms in a comfy, air-conditioned lab", they said,
"It will be like a paid holiday trip", they said.
...of course they did not mention that he will be stuck for weeks with those swellheads who have their heads dig up so deeply into their behind that they do not even talk to someone who has no academic title! Not to mention crawling through a desert with 34 pounds of baggage...
Afterall, the laboratory assistants talked and laughed with him onboard while the fops were staring black holes into their overprized netbook screens. Hans has rarely been looking forward like that before to work in a laboratory. All of his scientifical colleagues are operating in other specialized buildings, or are outside the camp. So, this will be the onliest chance to evade his "appreciated" team, aside in the canteen and during feedback sessions.
After a strict march and a mouth full of sand thanks to stumbling over his own suitcase, he arrives at the group which is already assembled in the big, glassy dome in the midst of habitate, and staring up to a man in front of a holographical blackboard..
The slim, but very tall man is standing there on a podium to formally greet the first guests on Wiesbaden.
He is maybe about 30 years old, and unusually pale for being here since three days, in the aggressive suns of Omega 54. As Goeben comes closer to the already speaking orator, he notices that his hands are shaking slightly, and a whole stream of sweat pearls running down his face. Together with his style of speaking, it is a logical conlusion that this man is very nervous for some reason, or excited.
Or both. Yeah, probably both.
"...more than h-happy to welcome you in Camp Astra, on the virgin world of, uhm...uhm...",
he stutters and turns around quickly to a man in a black, expensive suit who whispers something up to him,
"...oh right, of course! Of Wiesbaden, hehe..."
He gulps and continues.
"N-Nobody knows what can be found here, what treasures this planet hides. And it will be the task of you, dear guests, to reveal those treasures! Appearently the committee was very eager to make this happen as f-fast as possible and sent you, without informing us, three days earlier than expected to..."
The man in the suit coughs loudly, which made the tall one flinch.
"...w-well, where are my manners, I bet you are thirsty and tired after such a long trip from Cambridge to this place. Please, follow your assigned servants to your apartments, and in about one hour, we will have our first lunch in the community canteen!"
Even before the crowd is able to applaud him, the beanpole steps down from the podium and quickly walks towards the laboratory.
"Well...looks like he will work in my territory..."
Hans thinks and has to smirk. Ironically, one second later he shows the same reaction the tall man has had when the man behind him coughed, as a black glove tipped on his shoulder.
Without the notification of the first group, a second group consisting of butler, maids and service bots formed behind the first one during the speech.
Following his assigned servant James (seriously, why are people like him almost everytime named like this...?), it turns out Hans will live closely to the laboratory, and therefore shares the house with the assistents while the others; archeologists, geologists, analytics, engineers, xenologists and so on; live across the central square. A circumstance Goeben is happy to live with. James begs for pardon as he doesn't know wether the silent idiotic smile from Hans is a negative or positive answer to his question if he would like to change houses to avoid the assistants' presence. So James puts on the typical notorious butler smile.
Maybe this will be a relaxed stay with minimum contact to Cambridge's research elite, afterall...
A few days later, everything seem settled down. It was far into the night, most of the personnel went sleep.
Walking through the empty corridors to his apartment, Hans was almost like lost in his thoughts, not really paying attention to directions. But the moment he stopped to look around he found himself standing in the long corridor stretching out way too far, by left and right there were countless doors. It did not resemble the ones at the settlement. Turning around to look behind it was exactly what was in front, only mirrored. Just a little ahead one of the doors was open wide. As he cautiously stepped forward Hans could hear distant voices, a crowd, it became louder and louder as if heading straight at him but there was nothing ahead approaching him. Then, like some kind of wave, it passed through the corridor briefly transforming it into a much familiar scene from his days in Cambridge. Just for a moment there were students rushing back and forth across the corridor and he was just one of them, younger too. The wave passed through and all was back again, a simple and empty corridor with one of the doors opened. A dream-like state, but an illusion of this magnitude and detail, plucking out memories... well, there weren't that many forces in his experience to be capable of manifesting this.
"Ah there is my student, come in."
As soon as he stepped through the room became just like the majority of a relatively small classes, so familiar, just like the ones he spent several years studying in Cambridge university. Bringing out memories of the old. Along with the teacher of biology, Dr Charles McQuillen, a humble man of science, but also stern and rigid, no tiny detail had a chance of escaping from his scrutiny view.
"Take a seat, anywhere you want." - he gestured to Hans. All seats were empty. Feeling a momentary hesitation he added: "There were more students before and I remember when this class was full, but those times are gone and it would seem you're the last one to be in this establishment."
Hans sat in first row right in front of Charles.
"All the others went on with their lives, I suppose." - he turned off the display on his desk, turned up to Hans and continued. "It is too short and many seem to think they have better ideas how to spend their precious moments. Frankly I was wondering whether you'd come back at all, seeing as most did not. I reckon this establishment had ran out of its course seeing all this."
The last phrase was a particularly typical of him, always lamenting about education system going down the drain, always a critic but genuinely striving for the betterment, or at very least keeping the bar of education and sciences with times.
"So, how was your summer? Good, effective and productive, I hope. Unlike some others I could name whose only thoughts were... Ah, nevermind. My colleagues from Heissenberg told me you were spending it on planet Gaia mostly. Such an amazing place. Besides I was informed you took care of your summer-time tasks while being there. So what do you think of it? Was it worthwhile for you?"
Charles, much like his ancient relative, was a stern proponent and defender of natural selection and the theory of evolution, even at times when it became under attack by discoveries of alien artifacts at several worlds, not to mention 'fourth grade religious rabble', as he called them, came about in full arms and constantly pressuring and harassing xenoarcheology to come up with conclusions fit for their agendas.
Some dreams...are lucid. Some are...enjoyable. Others are only blurred and stretched sparks of the sleepy mind.
And others are crystal-clear.
The dream Hans is in right now definetly belongs to the last one.
It was late at night in the laboratory. The overseer put more pressure on the lab team to analyse the many various probes faster which were found over the last couple of days.
The assistants have gone to bed long time ago, while Hans was running a last test on
the metabolic end products of an unknown gram-negative bacteria's mitochondrion, when suddenly the sandman knocked at his door, thanks to this awesome and exciting material he is working with.
At least this is what Hans would tell himself if he were awake, while the bizarre sceneries are passing by. He simply felt asleep during work.
It would not be the first time that he had a realistic dream, one of those which can be remember in every detail the next day, but this...felt differently, yet familiar at the same time. Like a hypnosis, a trance.
Over the whole time, he wasn't saying a single word. Even when he saw his old professor for Xenology in Cambridge offering him a seat in this spooky-empty class room, he just let it be.
Now, the old man has stopped talking. Waiting for an answer to his question. Staring at his student.
Normally, dreams are like a film, a passive show you are forced to watch with the imaginary eye.
You can not change anything; whatever happens, happens anyways.
No direct influence on it in real time. No pause option, no correction.
And it will go on and on and on until you wake up or it the dream ends itself.
The lack of these essential, especially the last, traits of dreams is where things started to get really fishy for Goeben.
Nothing happens. No answer escapes his mouth. No motion. Nothing. Only his regular breath.
They both were sitting there, staring at each other for minutes before the next move is finally made. For the first time, Hans notices that this whole concept can't be a normal dream: The uncomftable feeling of those big, strangely colored eyes focusing his own person made him cough and evade eye contact for a second...
...an intended reaction!
Being totally gobsmacked, his younger self freezes like dived into liquid nitrogen. This can't be possible. Close to a mental breakdown, he looks at his trembling hands. Now being aware of them; seeing them shaking; he can feel their motion. Touching one hand instinctivly...he is able to feel it! This means...
Neural feedback!
"...h-how...in Gaia's name...",
Goeben stutters and instantly held his breath as he can hear his own voice.
Now his mind starts to work blow on blow.
As soon as the first shock was over and the direct control of his actions hasn't stopped, the realisation began. A first idea starts to grow of what the heck is being played here...the reason why this feels a bit familiar, despite this dream-like environment.
He focuses the Professor with a hesitating frown:
"M-my summer on Gaia was indeed well spent and productive, Prof, but I guess you already know that. And I am feeling fine, besides nearly suffering a heart attack a minute ago. But I would feel even better if you would tell me what this is all about...Professor?"
"Heart attack? You're young enough, although you might want to watch your health more closely, wouldn't hurt."
Gaia showed up on display. A remote lush world, just at right place and among the few planets in Sirius fitting to be ever called a 'new Earth'.
"You know, my early days were spent there too. Sometimes wondering when I retire this will be the place to go. It just shows how life in the universe isn't as rare as we had thought before. And you've done impressive work, Hans, you're becoming a proper man of science, inquisitive of the world and unabated by corporate agendas and their lure of quick money. And I grew weary of where it all goes, so let me tell you a recent story. A few months ago I was invited to conference held at Colorado, Liberty. Have you been there? Not only food is bad but manners there, my goodness, I'd sooner let a molly step into my class!"
Charles also had unusually high expectations just about everything there is, likely due to very conservative and aristocratic upbringing. He was also not very keen to travel around the world. Professor frequently expressed genuine shock observing lower class of social manners.
"Anyway, the invitation at first seemed like a good one, a scientific assembly and a good choice of modern topics. I saw a number of my colleagues attending as well, and promptly accepted to give a speech as well. What I did not know is that the discussion panel also had a number of other unlisted people whom I'd like not to be associated to at all, let alone bother to argue. I don't like to say it but that Liberty backwater system has its reputation of eh... suppressed reasoning, to put lightly. I had suspected that some of those individuals may show up one way or another. What I did not expect is sitting alongside them on the stage as opposed to having them standing outside the building and waving their nonsensical slogan protest boards and shouting garbage from speakers, but more on that later."
Charles slowly stood up. Students usually noticed he always have to walk back and forth around whenever delivering a lengthy speech, and this moment was no exception. But this one was also ramping up to become a fierce rant.
"Wasn't all bad at first, no, but eventually came the subject I was looking forward to: the overwhelming evidence of intelligent life-forms other than our own. You know, I've always said it's a remarkable event in the history of mankind. Something we ought to celebrate rather than sweep it under the rug and pretend it did not happen. But what happened at that conference was plain mind-bogging. Some of the panel attendants jumped straight ahead stating there is no other intelligent life, there is no evidence whatsoever, and even went even further to declare there can be no evidence, vehemently refuting any possibility. For a moment I was entirely lost, not sure what was going on, until I kept listening and figured out this was a rather blunt set up to have create a certain impression for a public. They continued to pressure, resorting to say everyone who thinks otherwise is a conspiracy nut wearing a tinfoil hat. Now, I've heard that kind of talk a number of times before. But this ain't theoretical subject any more. We have abundance of evidence, even though some would like to deny in the face of reality, but then again they're free to deny laws of physics and to jump out of this building attempting to defy gravity, wouldn't that be an elegant conclusion? Ah, Hans, those people..."
He let out a deep sigh, shook his head and paused for a few seconds as if regaining what was he about to say in the first place.
"Nevertheless the moment came for my speech to take place and I was greeted by a moderate applause but also occasional booing from a distant part of the audience. Not a stranger to such reaction I made my speech anyway, at least for those people who were willing to listen. Someone had to say, someone had to speak, might as well be me. If we don't speak against this chauvinism I shudder to think what terrible mistake we're about to make. The other attendants were trying to interrupt me and derail from the subject, much to my irritation by the fact the host and moderator of the discussion panel was clearly biased in their favor and in fact welcoming their ridicule as if it were genuine question and concern, it's anything but I assure you. You can imagine what happened when I had mentioned that there is in fact another intelligent life form in Sirius. Not the ruins of a long gone civilization that were discovered sometime ago but the actual living entities at the fringe systems beyond the explored space. I had expected people even in that corner of space would most certainly know that by now. I'm convinced they're fully sentient and most certainly unlike any animal life form we had seen before. Intelligent and on the fairly advancement level or perhaps beyond that of ours. We can keep theorize on details as scientists ought to in the meantime but the sheer fact of those aliens existing is completely irrefutable. Never had I imagined such a tremendous event would happen in my own lifetime. But the next speaker went on profoundly lambasting what I just spoke to the audience. All that much to the sneering grimace of the host and several other members of the panel. It is then he said that the beings we had found aren't truly sentient and can't be sentient because they weren't made by a god and because they lack a soul. Notice how at first they were in plain denial but now merely shifting it into realm of theology that has absolutely nothing to do with this. But it went on and on, claims followed basically saying they're mindless animals. And I sat there silently, I wasn't listening to that nonsense any more, and then I thought how devastatingly it must be for their inflated ego to resort to such primitive argument in a futile attempt to reinstate their self-serving sense of importance in the universe. It's like those people suddenly were taken aback by the fact they no longer had a monopoly on intelligence in the universe. I'd say we never had such privilege in the first place."
"Questions followed and sure, I've said it honestly there - for now we hadn't had much of a success at having an intelligent conversation with those beings only a brief glimpse, but then again the difference between them is already such drastic that it may take a pretty long time. I still remember the first got the images we got from Tannik Seldon. Oh, he risked quite a lot. They're quite reclusive and don't exactly show much direct interest in us, a fair deal. Frankly I'd be very cautious there too for obvious reasons. Even hostile reaction might have reasons and we have to be very careful from now on about what we do, there are plenty ways things can go badly for us, plenty things can be interpreted wrongly. That thoughtful moment I was interrupted by obnoxious fat boar of a man, the so-called expert in national security, he said we ought to send in military into their supposed space to estimate risks and possibly 'fix it for good'. Right. What better way to start a conversation by sending in big guns combined with a thorough lack of a scientific comprehension and any notion of how to approach it. I walked out. I'm beginning to see more and more of this and it is troubling."
"After all this was over and I was sitting at starport cafe waiting for a shuttle to take me to passenger liner back to Cambridge when I was greeted by a stranger. Right from the start he seemed a little odd to me, a bit nervous, and apparently he knew me not just by name but I didn't know him at all nor he was keen to tell me who he really is. The only thing I figured out that he was attending the conference as well. Initially he spoke how the evidence is clearly there, and for a moment I had thought that at least someone can see it but then he suddenly went into a crazy drivel speech, talking about how we are under attack by the 'unseen alien menace'. I quickly realized the man is plainly insane, probably watched too many fiction holomovies, mixed up in a questionable sanity. He surely needed help, but a professional care, not the kind he wanted, I suppose. Thankfully the announcement to board shuttle rescued me from the clutches of the madman as he shouted insults at my back when I hastily departed. Traitor, he called me, betrayer of mankind, saying how we all going to pay for the apparent lack of vigilance. The sour sense left from the conference itself wasn't enough and now this. But really, vigilance towards what exactly? Over the journey back to Manchester I kept thinking about it and what drives such people. Is it rebellion against the unknown and unexplained? Must we always put ourselves into aggressive-defensive state of mind whenever facing something we do not yet know? Instead of attempting understand, to explain it and figure out sensible approaches these people would want to condemn us all to the stone age mentality, throwing rocks and bombs at whatever we don't understand and don't like as if that would solve anything. As if..."
"As if..." - he repeated again quieter taking seat back. Where in place of once an exceptionally enthusiastic man, his passionate lectures were sure a testament to dedication, there was now an old, a tired person. Initially invigorated by the first discoveries his inner energy seem waned away giving space for troubled thoughts on reactions that he was a witness to.
"So, Hans, let me ask you something. Imagine you were on that discussion panel, what would you have said to them? And what do you think they would have replied?"
The initial irritation, doubt and distrust Hans was experiencing before has faded during the professor's enormous flood of words. Obviously, his old mentor evaded the pupil's demand for an explanation what is being played here.
There are times, regardless if you are a child, a teen or an adult now, when you know instinctivly that you should better shut it and play along for your own sake.
This was one of those moments, and it was enforced even more by the professor's authority. Even though the question if this is a vision, a dream, or whatnot and who the hell this old bloke in the shape of a university professor is: It seems to be secondary at the moment.
Continueing the conversation is of greater importance for the professor than Goeben's need for clearification at the moment. Maybe after the old man has recieved his answers, Hans might get his questions also clarified. For now, the older one of the duo is in charge of the situation. So better accept that.
The prof would see a nervous Hans sitting there, baffled by his long speech, but also partially by being thrown into the old role of a student which is supposed to think and answer his teacher's question.
Hans tries to sort himself out before attempting to formulate a satisfiying answer.
He takes a long, deep breath and looks the professor confidently in his eyes.
"Well, *Professor*...", Hans emphasizes the last word in a special way, "... you probably know me long enough already to know my point of view: I would have positively argumented like you for alien life, of course. Why else would I have shown strong interest in Xenology for almost a decade by now, when not believing in other races?"
Hans starts to gesticulate. The nervousness seems to be broken with the first sentences.
"Like said, there are a few facts which can not be denied by any serious scientist:
Most importantly, the mathematical likeliness of life on foreign planets is so high, that this circumstance, this argument of pure practical math, can not be neglected:
There are dozens of billions habitable planets in the milkyway. Now, even if the chances for the existance of a life form which is able to build civilizations are tremendously small, seeing those numbers makes it, vice versa, very likely that such a life form exists somewhere.
Let's say there is a chance of 1:100 million that a race is able to evolve into intelligent beings, and there are 24 billion habitable planets, this means the result is...ehm...yes, 1:240 that such evolution has happened."
Hans puts the calculator aside.
"Math is the highest instance in science; numbers always tell the truth. And when the result of a certain calculation seems to be incorrect, it is not the numbers which are not working properly, but the calculation itself or theory behind the calculation which is wrong. Since the theory of the chance for existence of sapient life forms in the milkyway at all is already proofen to be correct by our own existence, such a calculation of chances for "the others out there" is justified. It even has to be DENIED that there was, is or will be other intelligent life out there."
He scratches his head.
"And along with all that theory: One glance at some uncolonized planets, the ancient ruins...heck, even during a flight through the Omicrons, probably...you see non-human life and traces of "the others"! The jungle planet Gaia, all those water worlds like Juno and extremophiles in the vaccuum. Only to count life itself. On the other hand, there are the AIs as intelligent beings and, of course,..."
Hans nods to towards the professor with a thin smile,"...for the most obvious example, the Nomads."
Hans nods slowly and forms a conclusion for his statement.
"So, the reaction towards this argumentation would be the same, I guess. A shame that those people back at the meeting are calling themselve scientists."
He shrugs and leans back in his wooden school chair, fixing an imaginary point in the distance to evade the constant stare of the professor.