CHAPTER 17: Evolution

In the backwater Terran system, the sensational phenomenon of contact with the Scythians erupted into a chaotic profusion of activity. The arrival of the Scythians caused a sensation to be sure, but it was news of the imminent Chem invasion that set off a near panic. When the Scythians offered to arm Terrans, however, the ancient Terran ability to adapt to change asserted itself, and panic gave way to single minded effort.

That effort was evident everywhere, except in the small ante-chamber adjoining the CODOTS council room. Admiral Augesburcke sat quietly, listening to the discussion of his four department heads. Faizah Sadat was a beautifully aristocratic politician from Egypt, and headed the state department of CODOTS. She was never at a loss for opinion, and never fearful of voicing it.

“We must, I think, continue to try and discover the motive behind the arrival of the Scythians. Their dubious desire to arm us as their protector is suspicious at best. I abhor the thought of Terra entering the company of galactic civilizations as a mercenary state; especially in concert with the Scythians. Despite their apparent concern, I don’t think they’re being honest about the situation. If there’s a possibility of a diplomatic avenue out of this we must investigate it. Perhaps we can still contact the Chem through diplomatic channels.”

General Sampson, formerly of the US Army, agreed. “The explanation of Scythian benevolence as a driver for their actions is completely transparent. They’re hiding something. No doubt, it would help us to know exactly what and why they’re here. However, there is also no denying the fact that the Chem are coming. It’s all over the ethernet, and it’s not just Chem broadcasts.”

Sampson punched up a display on his laptop and transferred it to the main screen. A half dozen different feeds with different alien broadcasters popped up. They all spoke in translated English, and the agitation in their voices was obvious. He turned the sound down. “As you can see we’ve intercepted broadcasts from all twelve identified cultures outside our system. To our distinct disadvantage there is one common link: the Galactics, all of them, look upon us as the aggressors. I must admit I was surprised.

“Somehow I expected we’d come on the scene as unknowns. The opposite seems to be the case. Everyone from the military controlled Chem to the obscure Hederans think they know everything about us and our aspirations. Every other broadcast on the ethernet is about the “Legend of Alexander,” and the violent ascension of the Terran species into the galaxy. It’s incredible!”

“It’s insane, this Alexander the Great business,” Sadat nodded. “Who could imagine such an idea capturing the populace of a civilized galaxy?”

“It’s certainly unfortunate, but itnforrs not an irrational conclusion based on their limited knowledge of us,” Doctor Juhma Koto, a Psychologist from Zambia interjected. “Much of what I can conclude is based only on conjecture, of course. Building psychological profiles for the Galactics cannot be done without some comparison to our own Terran psyche, which we understand imperfectly at best. Still, according to our observations, given the information supplied to the Galactics by the Scythians, and according to what the Galactics have broadcast compared with what the Scythians have admitted to us, it is quite possible, even probable, that the Galactics could paint just such a picture of us. Think of the data we made available to a race of beings desiring to portray us exactly as the Galactics now see us. You don’t need to sift through Terran history very carefully to amass evidence which would be patently insurmountable.”

“By which you mean to say that you consider diplomatic channels as impossible at this time?” Sadat asked.

“You ask for a sure answer where there is insufficient data, Ms. Sadat,” Doctor Koto said.

“I have come to regard your opinions as rational, Doctor, despite my own desires. I would accept your guesses at face value.”

“Then I’m afraid I would agree with your assessment, but for more than one reason. You see, the Galactics view us as barbarians. They justly fear us even as Rome feared the barbarians of Europe despite the disparity in technology and civilization. More than that, however, they fear Alexander. I use the name because to the Galactics it’s more than a name. However it may have occurred, the Galactics have turned Alexander the Great into a half mythical, half real hero who will one day lead Terra to the stars. That journey will have one easily defined purpose: a continuation of Alexander’s conquests. To the Galactics the natural aspiration of all Terrans is the continuation of Alexander the Great’s conquests, and in their opinion, he is what we accept as the ultimate pinnacle of the Terran condition.

“We all strive to be like Alexander, but even if we cannot be Alexander we can still take part in attaining his goals. It’s a form of bonding and identification that all civilizations must have in one shape or form if they are to advance. It’s tragic that this mechanism is so damning; still, it’s understandable considering the data available. The Galactics formed their opinion of us from a limited and focused source of data supplied exclusively by the Scythians. Although the Galactic opinion is without foundation that fact is, unfortunately for us, irrelevant. Nothing we can do or say will easily change it Ms. Sadat.”

“Why is that? Propaganda is a well documented tactic both politically and militarily. Why can’t we put our own spin on this—we’ve an army of political advisors and handlers who live for this sort of thing?”

“Two reasons,” Doctor Koto replied. “First, the accumulated evidence is already out there and second because it’s factual. Propaganda based on falsehood is difficult enough to combat, but propaganda based on facts, even incomplete facts, is entirely different. We’d have an extraordinarily difficult time refuting it. We’re not just another galactic civilization; we’re outside their norm. They are bound to have a significant level of paranoia about us—even under the best conditions. Remember wea isre dealing with a galaxy that’s been at peace for almost thirteen thousand of our years. They’re not used to war, and even if they were to recall their past wars they would remember that those wars were intercultural.”

Koto accessed a file on his laptop and sent the information to the room’s viewer. The numbers caused an audible gasp in the audience. “The last civil wars on record, the last inter cultural wars that we have been able to access I should say, were the Chem civil wars which led to the Chem Wars of Expansion. Even those conflicts were tame in comparison to our own, however. Galactic warfare evolved long ago into a conflict which excluded the civilian population. A warrior caste is responsible for military operations, and has been for the entirety of recorded history as far as we can tell. Casualties were therefore limited to combatants. Let me put this in perspective; the casualties suffered in the three days of the Battle of the Somme, in World War One, are roughly equivalent to the total casualties suffered by the Galactics in the entire millennia of the Chem wars. Terran casualties for this century are greater than the casualties of all the Galactic wars on record for the last one million years combined.”

“Are we really that brutal a people?” Sadat exclaimed.

Koto sighed, and said, “War is very civilized in the present day galaxy, though it appears to have been otherwise at some time in the distant past. From what we can tell several of the civilizations in the known galaxy are close to ten million or so years old. It’s difficult to say without full access to the Galactic’s records. The Chem are one of the oldest cultures but also one of the most warlike.”

Ms. Sadat asked the obvious question, “Doctor Koto, what would it take to change the opinion of the Galactics, or modify it into a less harmful image of ourselves?”

“That addresses perhaps the most difficult aspect of the Galactic paranoia,” Doctor Koto admitted. “This is because the portrayal of Terra in this aggressive manner persists for generation after generation. Literally since the time of Alexander the Great, the Galactics have expected this terrible invasion from Terra. It’s now a palpable part of their psyche. The Legend of Alexander transcends our definition of legend and enters into what we would call psychosis. This is as absolute and real to the Galactics as their morning meal. It’s ingrained into their military, their political debate, and even into the education of their children. It’s impossible to combat a base of knowledge so thoroughly entrenched with a propaganda campaign.”

“How do we combat it?”

“Somehow, we must mollify the Galactics. Perhaps, if we can gain time by bluff, using the Legend of Alexander to our advantage, we can gain enough respite to allow the Galactics to realize we’re not the threat they think we are.”

“That would be difficult, at best,” Ms. Sadat conceded. “Considering the numbers of our own people slaughtered, enslaved, and impoverished by our own hand how can they expect rational behavior from us? Damn, my own people from the Middle East are still stoning women—the backwards, ignorant bastards. If we’re so capable of heinous acts how can they even expect mercy? I don’t see the prospect of diplomacy bearing any substantial fruit at the time being. It seems I am superfluous.”

“You are many things, Ms. Sadat, but never superfluous,” Admiral Augesburcke chortled, entering the discussion. “However, Doctor Koto makes his point poignantly. We are reviled throughout the galaxy, and whatever the Scythians’ motives we can expect no help from any other quarter. If there were a way to show the Galactics our Humanity, for lack of a better term, I would welcome it and put Ms. Sadat on the ethernet. As things are, however, the less said the better. We are unacceptably vulnerable, but we carry the brand of a bully amongst the Galactics. I agree with Doctor Koto’s assessment. If we can put any semblance of a facade together to go with the fear the Galactics have of us we may be able to bluff our way out of this. It’s a small chance, but it’s better than coming to blows.”

“To that end you are correct, Admiral,” Doctor Koto agreed. “Our primary weapon is the psychosis of the Galactics. Fear is an age old weapon. The idea of the “paper tiger” has merit.”

“To that end we need a “paper fleet.” How is that part of our effort coming along?” Augesburcke asked, addressing General Sampson.

Sampson shrugged, “we’ve just started to tear into the Iowa, but beyond that I’m afraid this is Doctor Hashimoto’s territory.”

Hashimoto cleared his throat uncomfortably. He was the obvious choice as head of the science department, but as a native of Japan, there was an unspoken schism between him and the Admiral. Augesburcke’s father fought in the war against Japan, and scant months prior to “VE” day he’d been captured and executed in a prison camp.

“Well?” Augesburcke demanded.

“Thus far, I think we’ve done well,” the scientist told Augesburcke, bringing up a hologram of the Iowa in the center of the conference table. It was a piece of technology only days old to the Terrans at the table, but they already took it as a matter of course.

Harsh white lights illuminated the battleship against the black night; a bulbous Scythian tender floated overhead. Hashimoto continued, illuminating features of interest with a laser pointer as he talked. “Ingenuity has made a seemingly mad scheme, excuse me Admiral, annoyingly practical. While it is true the requisitioned hulls are not space faring ships but naval warships there is surprisingly little difficulty in adapting them for space flight using Galactic technology. In fact, the vessels of Terra’s blue water navies, which are of course ridiculously antiquated by Galactic standards, are strangely well suited to the task, with some slight modifications. In some instances our lack of advancement has actually proven to be an advantage. Galactic warships depend a great deal on structural integrity fields for their structural strength. Our navies, bereft of this advancement, are naturally designed to endure a constant and significant pounding at sea. They’re far superior in structural strength to any galactic space vessel.”

As they watched, a Scythian tender tried in vain to raise the Iowa with its blue anti-gravitational beam. The bow of the great ship began to rise, but the stern stayed firmly planted on the dry-dock. The Scythian ship started to wobble under the strain, and the Iowa started to shudder. Klaxons sounded all over the shipyard, and workers scurried away from the leviathan. The Iowa began to list to port and fall out of the air.

Augesburcke shot out of his chair. “Bloody Hell, we’re going to lose her!”