Authors: R. J. Weinkam
Tags: #science fiction, #alien life, #alien abduction, #y, #future societies, #space saga, #interstellar space travel
You can construct an equation to
calculate the path of a toy car coasting down a slope. It would
include acceleration due to the force of gravity and the slope of
the incline, and will give a reasonable estimate of the car’s
progress. If you add terms for friction and air resistance, you
would have even more accurate model. But what if a part of the
track became wet, or a gust of wind blew in from time to time? The
ObLaDas had developed means to include instantaneous probability of
transient factors that were highly predictive. Well, I was never
able to understand what the excitement was about, but it did
convince me that there was a lot more depth to the ObLaDa records
than I, or a few selected keepers, could hope to master.
It was this humbling experience,
but it convinced me to establish an Institute of Scholars to study
the ObLaDa data. All the Institute’s data and findings would be
open to universal access, of course. Who knew what new Einstein
might emerge to make sense of it all? But more positively, a
full-time, dedicated core of the best minds could do more to
understand and communicate the fruits of the Voyager legacy to all
of us than any other means that I could imagine. The U.S.
government initially opposed making the ObLaDa data known, they
still maintained that it was their property, but under a great deal
of public and international pressure, they dropped their threatened
legal objections - that pressure plus an agreement to locate the
first two Institutes in the USA.
Years have passed since the
Institutes were established. Times have changed, but people still
talk of the Outward Voyager and all that happened on her. People in
Europe, especially, and parts of Asia have shared the ObLaDas’
fascination with the alien civilizations that went into decline.
They conducted studies, as the ObLaDas had, on the apparent
fragility of those beings and their institutions. Some concluded
that their technologies, or an excess of progress beyond some
imagined natural boundary, were the cause. A strong anti-technology
movement took hold for a while, but the facts and the ObLaDas’
analyses, which completely rejected that view, won through. It was
not technology or the power that it bestowed on individuals living
under its influence that imperiled life, but the inability of the
long-established civilizations, or their key components, such as
religious beliefs or political traditions, to manage the
consequences of their own progress. Inevitably, it seemed, once
advances in knowledge and capabilities began to occur, they fed
upon themselves and developed at an increasing pace, ever more
rapidly producing profound, world shaping changes, but the social
mores and taboos of the established way of life remained in place,
hamstringing efforts to adjust to the demands of change. The rate
at which these two forces adapted to new challenges differed, often
with fatal consequences. Sometimes the planet reached the brink of
catastrophe only to pull back at the last moment, but sometimes it
stepped over.
Perhaps this should not have been
a surprise. Our own history has been such an extreme example of
these same trends and tendencies. Obviously, we have pushed our
climate and population to the edge of permanent decline; so many
once common resources are now scarce, and at one time several
nations had the capability to destroy all civilization in an hour.
Fortunately, we backed off from that, which might offer some
hope.
The ObLaDas have won popular
respect for their accomplishments, for succeeding for so long on
such a difficult mission, and for being the only species in the
entire galaxy that was able to achieve interstellar travel.
Instinct, genes, hormones, which dominate ObLaDa behavior so
strongly are now recognized and appreciated within our own species.
After centuries in which instincts were thought to be confined to
the lower animals, even to the exclusion of their thought and
reason, we have now started to look at ourselves and find a role
for our instincts in our own behaviors and passions. While I would
like to see how this develops, my body has failed me. Diagnosed
with an odd form of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma two years ago, I seem to be
among the unmentioned fifteen percent not included within the
achievable cure rate. We-who-need-not-worry-about-retirement have a
shorter-range focus on things.
Fortunately or otherwise, the
critical moment arrived. It was my chance at success or failure.
The ObLaDas returned the Voyagers to Earth in the hope that they
could contribute in some way to the formation of a sustainable
civilization. It was their belief that this would require some form
of planet-wide government, but they had no idea how it might be
made to happen. Earth, with its tradition of warring nation-states,
and economic dominance and exploitation, was far removed from this
ideal or, as it now appears, necessity. DePat sought to use the
Outward heritage to directly or indirectly advance these ideas. He
had some limited success, which I see as his legacy, but the
question of global governance, an actual decision on the question,
has now advanced to its tipping point.
Over the years, one by one,
inclusive commissions have been established to address our critical
issues of sustainability. The ILUC, or its new name, the Land and
Oceanic Commission, was the first. The mix of treaties that had
governed the open oceans were eventually replaced by the
Commission, and after the Fallow Land Scandal, it was strengthened,
given the right to pass laws, and to exercise enforcement powers.
But the fact remains that the coastal nations assigned rights over
their territorial waters and coastal rivers only after the damage
to fisheries and the environment were in crisis.
The crisis-beget-commission model
continued, as mass famine and consecutive pandemics forced all but
a few religious fanatics to support formation of the Habitation
Commission, which was empowered to determine the population
capacity of regions across the planet, and to recommend steps to
control the population at sustainable levels consistent with our
now-declining energy capacity. Economic competition had long since
replaced military confrontation as the battleground between large
nations, but persistent small wars and revolutions argued for
worldwide disarmament and creation of the Intervention Commission.
That commission had the task of organizing crisis management and
arbitration efforts in troubled regions before their problems
became acute.
In the end, the Moderation
Commission proved to be the most influential. Nothing was more
competitive or powerful than our societies’ drive toward economic
success. Our interconnected global markets were all built on the
expectation of continued growth and ever increasing earnings. These
historic benchmarks, however, are unattainable and incompatible
with an economy facing a declining population and planned
contraction. New standards of merit were needed, as were financial
regulations that rewarded no-growth, break-even performance as
being successful. Stabilization of the financial markets was a big
job, though not one that I particularly understood, but it was of
critical importance.
The Oceanic Commission has had
formal lawmaking authority for some time, and now there is a move
to expand that level of power to the other Commissions. A global
charter has been proposed that would increase the status and
authority of the International Commissions. Passage would require
nations to relinquish more of their authority, their sovereignty.
This is ever hard to do, and factions in several countries are in
opposition to the charter. It was a critical make-or-break
point.
It was widely believed that if the
Charter were defeated, it would bring about a revival of
nationalism, with nations and corporations once again jostling for
their own primacy. Supporters of the charter were initially
optimistic. The commissions had functioned very well and
effectively. Countries almost always adopted the rulings that were
recommended by the Global Commissions, and popular opinion favored
approval of the charter. But as always, the ones with something to
lose were more energized than those that might gain some vague
future benefit. The preliminary vote count did not look promising
and they were worried. This time I did not need to force myself
into a conference, or push data onto a committee. One of the larger
organizations working in support of the charter contacted me for
help. I could, and I was eager to do so, I told them, but I did not
say how it was to happen.
When DePat organized the ObLaDa
memory cube data, he kept one area of knowledge apart. In fact, he
removed all reference to it. It was the content with the greatest
potential to change the planet and he insisted that it be withheld
until after some viable form of permanent worldwide governance had
been established. The information would help that body succeed, he
believed, but he did not want to risk having it be known by an
unsettled world. It now seems that I may never see that day. I
decided not to wait, however. It became clear to me that this was
something that I must do by myself. We had a considerable staff
within the Outward Institutes, but their skills were in research,
patents, and presentations so they would be little help in dealing
with the massive national delegations that surrounded the Charter
Council. I decided to go there alone, keep my plans confidential,
meet the Council, and make an offer that I hoped would not be
refused.
Gerald Lorentian was President of
the Charter Council. We had never met, but I knew of him. He was
head of the EEC when we negotiated the location of three Outward
Institutes. It was a small coup for his administration. I hope he
still felt some small obligation; perhaps he did, for he agreed to
meet me for dinner. I had only been in Zurich in passing, but the
Council agreed to arrange for my stay, something I considered a
good sign.
Gerald was seventy-three, with a
long history at high levels within the EEC, and an unexpected
personal interest in marginal agriculture. He was tall,
distinguished, with a famous wavy gray mane, and the gracious
bearing of the old school. We met at the Alden Hotel and walked to
a nearby restaurant. He brought an aide, Heinrich Jostelin, who had
either a phenomenal memory or a hidden recorder, because the
verbatim text of our conversation ended up in Gerald’s personal
files.
Lorentian knew who I was by
reputation, and I had no difficulty convincing him that I wished to
represent the ObLaDa legacy. In fact, when I explained that I was
there to offer something of wide interest to the participating
nations, he had no hesitation in accepting that this may be so. He
did not ask for clarification just then. After we had finished
dinner, Lorentian ordered Kier Royals and sat back. Time to turn to
the business at hand.
“
There is a portion of the ObLaDa
legacy that has not yet been disclosed,” I told him. “It includes
information of some great and enduring value, perhaps of more
import than the totality that our Institutes have yet produced. I
intend to describe this advance to the Council, but I will not
provide the enabling information, the details that are needed to
make it operational, until after the Charter has gained final
approval. I can assure you that the capability that I will describe
is great enough, beneficial that is, to sway nations to support the
Charter, even those that are leaning against it at this time. I
would like to make this offer personally, with your assistance, of
course.”
“
Do you expect to address the
Council yourself?” he asked.
“
Indeed, sir, that is my intent. I
feel confident that you are in a position to make this
possible.”
“
The Charter Council is a serious
and prestigious institution. It has well considered and approved
procedures, and there is no provision for private citizens to
approach the Council.”
“
Be that as it may, Mr. Lorentian,
I doubt that your procedures anticipated the fact that a citizen
may have information of great importance. I understand that you, as
President and presiding officer, could make the necessary exception
to allow me to speak, should you wish to do so.”
“
But that is just it, Mr. Keifer,
I do not wish to do so. I have the respect of the Institution that
I have been honored to represent, and I intend to honor its
precedents. The most I could allow myself to do would be to read
your proposal to the Council myself.”
Lorentian was a life-long
politician, who had grown manipulative and officious in his old
age. Perhaps he had always been so, but I, in my old age, can be
grumpy as well as imperious, and I was no longer completely
naive.
“
President Lorentian, I am not a
diplomat by nature nor inclination, but I have become familiar with
the rougher side of politics. What I have to offer is very
important and powerful information. I expect that it will change
the position of even the most adamant opponent and win unanimous
support for the Charter. The nations will see it as something that
is more valuable than any degree of sovereignty they would
relinquish to the Charter Council. This may all occur with your
support, as the visionary leader who enabled this important
development, or in the face of your opposition. It would not be
good for a politician to be on the losing side of this proposition,
especially at the end of his career.”
The color drained for Lorentian’s face while
Jostelin’s turned beet red. “I am sure you do not mean to threaten
me, I only agreed to speak with you as a courtesy.”