She paused and then as if coming to a decision she continued, “There is no reason to choose suicide! You have options in front of you. They might not be perfect options and you might not get everything you want but accept a Coridian Protectorship and you could survive and grow in galactic society. Your people could share in all the advancements and advantages of being affiliated with a dynasty! Think of all the unfairness in your world now—you have millions of people that spend time deciding whether to have fish or steak prepared and served to them for dinner while at the exact same moment thousands of children go to bed hungry. You can change this! You can virtually eliminate poverty by raising the standard of living for everyone. Many of your diseases could be eliminated. The world Coridia offers would be a safe world, a secure world. Without wasting resources on political strife and competition think how much further your society could evolve. You could learn from us, yes; but think how much more dynamic, how much faster you could progress without the distractions of poverty and war. You would have the entire galaxy to explore and study—don’t throw it all away over some overblown sense of racial pride, please!”
The observation deck was suddenly very silent. Despite the millions of stars witnessing our conversation I was starting to feel isolated and alone. As close as I wanted to be with Ashima and Semi there was still a gulf between us. I think I had never felt the pressure more strongly than I did in that moment.
I tried to order the words in my mind that could explain what I felt.
Much of this mission had been spent with me mentally vacillating on what a proper course of action would be: should we take the safe route and accept a Coridian Protectorship or should we risk everything to preserve our independence and self-determination?
Yes, there were still children on Earth that went to bed hungry but I refuse to accept that it’s an either/or solution. We can solve hunger and maintain our freedom. We could seek security without giving up our privacy and control—there must be a way.
I had labored over this. I had thought through every imaginable outcome. I had repeatedly gone to bed thinking about it and woken up dreaming about it. I had pondered the ethics of being a self-appointed speaker for billions of people and I had questioned the morality of making decisions for those billions without consulting them first. I knew the answer in my gut even though I was still struggling to find the words to explain it.
There are moments in life when the spoken word has changed everything; when what is said is so profound that it causes everyone to either reconfirm or reevaluate their beliefs. When the words themselves literally reverberate with truth and consequence. Such words can be spoken publically or privately to cement a course of action, but they always change the course of history.
I instinctively knew that this was such a moment and that I needed to step into it.
I opened my mouth and took a preliminary breath when Anzio started to speak…
“You have declared us a planet of dynamic people. Unique in the galaxy you say. You tell us that we have an industry and drive about us that is unparalleled in this galactic society of yours. You show the astonishment at how fast our technology advances, yes? …yet you never stop to ask the why?”
Anzio looked up into the eyes of Semi and Ashima.
“Earthers as you call us live short lives compared to yours and our whole civilization is much younger. Yet I wonder how it is that you measure the age of a culture? Is it years? Which star are we using to time the revolutions? Some civilizations they grow and mature at different rates, yes? So how should we compare the maturity of a civilization that takes 100,000 years to go from an animal powered cart and landing on their moon to a civilization that takes just 100 years? Which civilization is growing? Which civilization is better prepared to embrace and shape their future?
“The Noridians, they view us as a backwards people stemming from an accidental biological mutation that should have been put down thousands of years ago.
“You Coridians—in truth you see us the same way. You’re just much very nicer about it. You don’t despise us but you do feel sorry for us and therefore you don’t see us as equals. You see us as children that are being manipulated and maybe harmed or scared by divorcing parents; and while you might have the honest concern for us you don’t take us seriously and still see us as helpless.”
Somewhere along the soft oratory Anzio had stood up. Not abruptly or angrily, it felt more like the truth unfolding before us.
“We are not helpless.
“Earthers as you call us, we may not survive the next thousand years or even the next hundred but we will not go down by lying down. You tell us that we have no choice but you do not understand that Earthers do not quit.
“I suspect that Mark can give you our historical examples but know this my friends; Earth civilizations have rarely chosen the easy path and it rarely worked out well when we did.”
There was a strength in Anzio’s voice that didn’t require volume.
“Don’t cry for us Ashima, warn the galaxy—‘Here Comes Earth…’”
He paused, gave a sad smile, and walked out of the room.
“Sit back down Semi… please,” I said kindly. She had stood up to follow Anzio out of the room but now as she distractedly looked back at me she slowly retook her seat.
“Anzio may be saying things you don’t want to hear but he is right; all of the things that you claim to admire about us we are because we do have to struggle and compete. Longer lives don’t give Coridians a greater chance to achieve; it takes away all sense of urgency to accomplish anything. You keep claiming that we advance incredibly fast but that’s not true. The reality is that galactic societies advance agonizingly slow because there is no built-in imperative to move faster.
“Yes, you’ve created a life where no one wants for anything, where everyone is safe and secure—and totally stagnant. Did you say that it had been hundreds of millions of years since anyone had independently discovered faster than light travel? Doesn’t that tell you anything?”
Ashima looked terribly conflicted about how to respond; I couldn’t tell if she was offended, hurt, or just feeling sorry for me.
It was Semi that spoke first.
“Mark, we care about you and Anzio personally but we all know the stakes are much higher than just that. The last thing I want to do is to offend you but the things both of you are saying sound terribly naïve to us.
“Yes, of course we value safety and security and the fact that you would place anything above that is unthinkable to us. Your attitude towards the situation seems risky and brash—not to mention totally unnecessary. We are trying to be transparent with you; we want you to know that Coridia’s offer of protection will still stand no matter what.”
“What exactly,” I asked. “Do you mean by ‘no matter what’?”
“Mark,” Ashima said. “We will honor everything we have said we would do. Silva has made it clear to all of us that Earthers carry different ideas and values that might be strange to us. Nevertheless, we will aid you in seeking an audience with a Lower House; no matter how futile it might be. And as long as it doesn’t put Coridia at risk we will help you with just about anything else you ask for; but when it is all done we strongly believe that accepting our protectorship will still be your best option.”
Now I wasn’t sure whether to be angry or just resigned to their never understanding us…
“Explain to me again why you don’t believe House Gabloriel will speak to us,” I asked.
“We cannot command contact with the Lower Houses Mark,” responded Semi. “They appear to us at their discretion.”