Discovering the Evolution of Grey
The rules
of Initial Contact were simple. First, three cycles of undetected
study were required in order to assess the culture and benefits of a
sentient species before contact. Second, the Observation Team itself
was not to make the I.C.—that privilege belonged to someone of
higher rank and time of service. And finally, Initial Contact was
prohibited among species that were telepathic.
Experience proved these three rules essential. Who could forget the
massacre on Vymar-3? If there had been further study before
contact, scientists would have known the Vymarian species
were paranoid and territorial, explaining their over-reaction to the
loss of a few minor resources.
As
for the second rule, it was practical for business. By prohibiting
I.C. by the Obs. Team, young scientists were kept around to serve.
This hierarchy insured huge profit shares to the most loyal and hard
working scientists. Those selling or withholding information were
punished, but the patient ones were wealthy and famous.
Of
course, the telepathic rule was also logical. One can hardly
plunder a planet properly if the natives know your intent.
Connar’s time had come. He had fought, flattered and fibbed his way
onto the I.C. lead ambassadorship of the Gam-4 mission. Conn was a
scientist by default, a pioneer at heart, born a generation too
late. His parents had been part of the Exploration Rush, but like
the settlers of the 1800 Americas, had seen the vast empty prairie
of space and actually stopped to build their paradise. While
others moved on in search of Utopia, Conn’s parents ran a rest
station for those who came behind and then moved ahead of them. His
parents were content, but Conn never forgave them.
Conn, like many of his generation, led the Exploitation Rush that
inevitably followed. He joined the Science And Profit Corporation
to find gain and glory in the planets that the pioneers had
overlooked in their haste to be first elsewhere. These were not
Utopias. Most were unsuitable for sustained colonization, so the SAP
Corp. was licensed to find other uses and to make diplomatic
relations with any species deemed suitable for providing resources
or knowledge that advanced humanity.
The Gam mission was a particular prize assignment. The profit
sharing potential was enormous if the rumors of a rare guldomite
fuel source were proven true. Conn, as I.C. Ambassador, was now
licensed to achieve fame and wealth in one quick mission.
He
wasted little time traveling to his destiny. His space jumper
established orbit around Gam-4 as he briefed his I.C. team. He had
chosen only two men to accompany him; after all, less people meant
more profits. The last transmission from the SAP Obs. Team had
indicated that they were suffering from Celeval virus. Only Onh’p
and Jay-s2 had immunity on his potential team so Conn elected to
take them and go early, rather than waiting to fully immunize
everyone else.
Conn briefed both team members aloud, even though he knew they had
ported the info into their cerebral index. Porting, after all, only
affected short-term memory so it was necessary to reinforce the
information constantly. (He had chosen his team for their loyalty,
not their intelligence.)
“The Gams are a quiet, quad limb species, with no armoring or
apparent defense mechanisms and no known enemies,” Conn stated.
He
flicked the image of a Gam in front of them. “The young are black
and white, while the mature ones are a mottled gray color,” he
continued. “They have oval, squat bodies with eye stalks on either
side of their mouths and ears on two limbs. There is no separate
head, just these sense organs centered into the body itself.”
Conn changed the image to written notes. He wished he had more, but
data thieves were everywhere, so most information waited safely on
Gam-4.
“They use a primitive language to communicate; using four sounds
common to our own infants’ linguistics-- Ma, Nya, Ya and Da. The
leader of the Obs. Team, Franq Nie, seems to think this is because
they are some of the easiest sounds to make with rudimentary vocal
cords. The fact that they have a language helps qualify them as
sentient, although we have no real indication of brain activity or
size. They seem to be established as a barter society, which will
make it easier to acquire guldomite if it does exist. Any
questions?”
“If it is guldomite, how much?” Onh’p was his practical pirate; Conn
could relate to him.
“Even a miniscule amount is worth more than two work cycles of
payment. We are to establish relations and get guldomite at all
costs.”
Jay-s2 spoke. “Again sir--why can’t we wait for the initial team to
finish its report? The Obs. Team hasn’t completed three complete
cycles.”
“These are extenuating circumstances,” Conn answered quickly,
wishing that he’d have left the blunt fellow behind. Jay-s2 was his
regulations soldier and thankfully had no idea of everything Conn
had done to bend Rule One. Conn admired tenacity, but not when it
interfered with progress.
“We’re actually going to rescue the Obs. Team as part of our
mission,” Conn said, deciding to appeal to his Jay-s2’s sense of
moral duty. “Celeval virus, as you know, is potentially lethal.”
Conn went on. “This virus also alters brain waves and memory
storage, making it difficult to port the information the team
already has. If we lose that team, it will take another three
cycles to license and go through the procedure again.”
“SAP Corp. was willing to forego the first rule in light of this
species’ lethargic, placid nature. They have been classed “minimal
risk”, so I.C. is acceptable by our company.” Conn ended the
briefing and returned to the pilot’s chair.
The jumper craft landed lightly and Conn stepped out the portal. He
felt like a child released from the womb. No Utopia, indeed. The
Gam’s planet was sulfurous and had winds hard enough to gash through
light suits. Conn moved to the Obs. Team complex quickly; it
really didn’t pay to stand still.
The complex was camouflaged by rock formed to look like the barren
hillside. The surrounding vegetation patches grew in a low fluid
like carpets that migrated to follow the sun’s rotation. Stepping
on them was risky, because the plants were carnivorous—they didn’t
care where they found their mineral intake. Conn walked carefully to
meet the Obs. Team leader, Franq.
Franq was from old Earth, Conn remembered from his report. Franq
had spent half his life in space travel to get to his first SAP
station. He was older than the other four Obs. Team members and
would probably never get to make an I.C. Conn would never
understand these science types who were into worshipping discovery
as its own payment.
“It’s all true,” Franq greeted Conn exuberantly, throwing his arms
wide, his silver suit glistening in the bright light. “Guldomite
everywhere.”
Conn couldn’t help smiling back. “Is it easy to mine?”
“Mine?” Franq laughed. “Even better. The young Gams excrete it!”
“Waste products? Then they’ll be happy to have us haul it away.”
“No, no, it’s a food source for the adults. The young eat the
plants and the adults consume the guldomite made from it. The young
just suck in the plant life and the adults suck in the guldomite.”
“Why don’t the plants eat the Gams?” Conn asked, watching some
plants glide by as he nimbly hopped up inside the complex.
“The plants die from exposure to lead. That’s why your suits will
be lined with it. All Gams ingest lead particles as well as plants
and guldomite.”
Conn visited the sick Obs. Team quickly. He had been inoculated,
but didn’t have much to do with the comatose team. He had Onh’p and
Jay-s2 set up a medical kit to treat them and then continued his
briefing with Franq.
“Tell me about the language I’ll be using.” Conn wanted to get
right into action. However, Initial Contact had a lot of procedures
to follow, mainly the appearance of asking for what you wanted from
the natives before taking it.
“It’s so easy. You’ll dress like a young Gam for the encounter,
since their speech is less sophisticated.”
“Sophisticated? We’re talking four sounds.”
“A
limited vocabulary, I’ll admit. But it takes a while to get the
nuances. Nya means “no”, Ya means “yes”. Easy, right? But what if
you want to say “Maybe”? A young Gam just says Nya-Ya and combines
the two, Nya first if his answer is more toward no than yes. But an
adult might express it as Nya-Nya-Ya-Nya, showing more no than yes
and waiting for you to convince him with an even long string of
yeses and nos.
Conn shrugged. “Okay, I’ll use the young Gam’s form, just so I
don’t look like a fool.”
Franq nodded. “Less said is better. Now the other two sounds are
Ma for “give” and Da for “take”. Remember, this is a bartering
crowd, so use a questioning tone rather than a commanding one. You
don’t want to challenge a gray adult with the wrong tone.”
“Sounds hard rather than easy.”
Franq snorted. “You’ll be trying to learn in a few solars something
that took me over a cycle. Just think of it in math terms. It’s
like a base four language. Or like a genetic code, ACTG.”
“That doesn’t help much.”
“C’mon. Think of it as the linear four points of a compass. The
young start with that and the adults add the degrees or points in
between.”
Conn shook his head; patience was not his best quality. “Just let
me port your notes into my cerebral index and then we can talk.”
Franq seemed insulted. “Do you give up thought when you become I.C.
leader? Don’t you get implications? If we had used the compass
model instead of the light switch to start programming comps, we’d
be light years ahead of where we are now.”
“I’m here to do I.C., not debate an unchangeable past.” This guy
had been alone too long, Conn thought.
“Besides your analogy is at fault,” Conn argued aloud, angry at
Nie’s condescension. “A computer can’t be more “on” than “off”. The
old computers had to understand just “on” and “off” to work, up and
down, a base two language. But Base 4 language? So what? Even a
compass needs a true north to set the whole thing.”
Franq
snorted, apparently appeased. “At least you have some brains.” He
laughed suddenly. “You may surprise me yet. Truce?” He held out
his hand.
“You may not get another Obs. unless you show me more respect,” Conn
warned, ignoring the extended hand. It was important to establish
his leadership.
“Let’s go to the site then,” Franq retorted, wiping his empty hand
on his pants. “There’s not much time before sundown.”
Conn was surprised at the man’s easy compliance. “What’s the sudden
rush? We’ve got to deal with your sick partners.”
“Not much point,” Franq grumbled, leading the way out. “They’re a
lot like you.”
Franq flew their flotation module out onto the plain while Conn sat
beside him and began porting the preliminary research. Hovering
near the ground, they headed toward the larger hills, skirting
around the sulfuric geysers and hydrogen vents. They eventually
circled a rocky outcropping and slid the module into a tunnel near
the Gam dwellings.
Conn held up the magnifiers and was delighted to see the black and
white crab-like creatures working across a slope. Some had
surrounded a plant puddle and were consuming it, despite its
quicksilver efforts to escape. Others were extending limbs into the
ground and extract galena, lead sulphide, from the stone. In a way,
it was a relief to see them mining and consuming. Beings that
modify their environment understand humanoid needs to do the same.
He
was startled to see how much bigger the gray beings were. Conn saw
they had a voracious appetite and were not above disciplining any
black and whites that weren’t performing at an acceptable rate.
“What do you think?” Franq asked.
Conn sighed. “What can we trade them for the guldomite? Since they
need it as much as we do, it will take something big.”
Franq laughed. “Oh, I’ve got an idea.
That’s why I’m here, remember?” He pointed to the little Gams.
“Just look at them for awhile and enjoy your discovery.” He
gestured toward the hillside. “See how they leave a trail for the
big ones to follow? Guldomite bread crumbs. But the adults devour
the trail. Sort of like the old tale of Sel and Tel. You
remember?”
“Don’t eat the candy house, right?” Great, a scientist who thought
he had morals. Conn stared at all the white nodules of Guldomite.
They dotted the landscape like tiny dirty crystals, a fortune
encrusted on the hills. It was like a dream—and this was destined
to be his. He couldn’t wait to rake it into the ship.
Franq looked at Conn. “Shall we get closer?”
Conn shook his head, regretting the rules of conduct. “Not yet, I’m
required to report back. Onh’p and Jay-s2 may have stabilized your
team by now.”
As
they returned and re-entered the complex, Jay-s2 reported no changes
in the four victims. The serum was not yet reversing the brain
pattern damage.
“We really shouldn’t attempt I.C. yet,” Jay-s2 recommended. “A full
team should back you, sir. This may be a new strain of the virus.
Regulations state we should abandon the site until we’re sure.”
“Is it C.V. or isn’t it?” Conn felt
trapped by rules; Jay-s2 hadn’t seen all that guldomite out there,
but he had. Regulations? Conn wanted riches instead.
Onh’p walked over to join them. “It’s almost as if their memory has
been erased. However, C.V. doesn’t take memory, it just changes
it—a sort of dementia.”
“I’m just glad I wasn’t affected,” Franq said quietly. “Perhaps we
should abandon the site. At least for now. We can all go
and then all come back.”
“You’ll get off the planet when I give the orders,”
Conn said, angry at the attempts to thwart his destiny. “Let’s
continue with the procedure.”
Franq led Conn to a chair so that Conn could port more data. Conn
was aware of a faint headache, but kept going, the soon started; the
sooner done. Even in his sleep mode he ordered continual porting.
After the session was finished in the morning, Franq apologized to
Conn for his outburst. “I’m sorry for my conduct. You know how it
is with Obs. Team. You do all this work and then hand it over. I
guess I was having second thoughts.”
“I
understand,” Conn said, willing to placate the old man if only for a
little while longer. “You feel a little protective and jealous;
it’s hard to let go.”
Franq seemed pleased. “You do understand. I just don’t know if
what we are doing is right. What right do we have to decide this
planet’s fate?”
Conn slapped Franq’s shoulder. “Right? Wrong? There is no black
and white anymore and no room for religion. Our decisions are for
the improvement of humanity, you know. Evolution means losing
something, gaining something else. You sure you feel all right?”
Conn made a mental note to have Onh’p test the man again for C.V.
He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a few vestals. “Which
ones do I wear, the set on the left or right?”
“Left or right? It doesn’t matter,” Franq said bitterly, his mood
again changing from one extreme to the other.
“They’ve all been lined then,” Conn said, changing into black and
white.
“Right,” Franq said.
Conn was tired of the old man’s attitude, but needed him to fly back
to the Gam’s site. He ordered Onh’p and Jay-s2 to give more serum
and prepare the Obs. Team for departure. Some rules he would
follow. Even if Conn only could take a miniscule amount this time,
he could always come back without Franq and the others. A quick I.C.
and then he could leave.
He and Franq headed back to the Gam dwellings. Franq got out of the
module with him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
Conn shook his head. “Too risky without a full back-up. You can
talk through the mike and use the magnifiers to see what’s
happening. Tell me what to do. That way you’ll be safe,” he said.
That way it’ll be all mine, he thought.
Conn approached cautiously, moving slowly until he saw the Gams stop
to look at him. A huge gray Gam separated from the group and
approached. Conn faced it, but it didn’t seem surprised to see
him. All Conn’s training dealt with the first reactions of the
alien creatures. He knew how to handle surprise, fear, hostility
and curiosity, but not acceptance.
“Ma-ma?” Conn asked carefully, pointing to the guldomite at his
feet. He shifted hastily around another plant puddle. Did the Gams
understand pointing or any kind of sign language? He had forgotten
to ask.
“Ya-Nya-Ya-Da. Ya-Ya-Ma-Ma?” It spoke simply and slowly, giving
Conn time to translate. “Maybe yes take. Yes, yes, give? You’ll
let me take, if I have something to give? I understand.”
Conn laughed. This wasn’t so hard, he was born to be I.C. leader.
“What can we give him, Franq?” Conn spoke into the mike. He was
startled when the answer came from directly behind his back.
“I
already have given him something,” Franq replied, stepping out
behind him. “You are my trade.”
It
took a moment for Conn to understand. “You already made contact,”
he said. The implications of Franq’s words finally struck Conn.
“You’re trading me?”
Franq held up a baby Gam. “They don’t understand the concept of
stealing. But they do understand a trade,” he chuckled. “We all
evolve to our own destiny, sir.”
“Why are you doing this?” Conn waved his arms, hoping the Gams
wouldn’t attack, hoping his team might miraculously appear. “Why?
You would have been rewarded. There’s enough guldomite for us
all.”
“But could you walk away from all of this?” Franq said, coming
closer. “Rule Three, Conn. SAP would have forgiven one and two,
but not three. The Gams already know why we’re here. All this
treasure, all this knowledge—forbidden, untouchable. But we can’t
follow the rules.”
“Ma-ma?” The baby in Franq’s hands interrupted.
“Da-da,” Franq corrected, smiling grimly as he stuffed the captured
Gam back into his waist pack.
“You’re not its long lost father,” Conn said angrily. “You’ll use
it too.” Conn could feel the Gams’ telepathic feelers delicately
reaching into his mind and his headache grew worse. “They caused
the sickness, not C.V.,” he stated. Conn wondered when Onh’p and
Jay-s2 would come, if they could come.
“You wouldn’t have come for me if I
told you that,” Franq replied, nodding slightly. “Gams are a lot
like us, a bit too curious.” Franq turned to go as the Gams came
closer to Conn.
“And you’re a lot like me,” Conn said so calmly that it caused Franq
to turn again. Conn disintegrated his skull with the shooter that
he had pulled from his pack. The Gams halted a long moment near
Conn. Then Conn looked down to see his feet engulfed in a green
puddle. He was vaguely surprised to find that Franq hadn’t lined his
suit with lead after all.
“Da-Ma. Nya-Nya-Da-Da,” the baby Gam said as it crawled out of its
prison. “Ma? Ya-Nya.”
