The next morning the airship cruised over the saurian settlement at the southern end of Long Island, before positioning itself over the location of the UN building and lowering its cabin. Some fine-tuning using the slider viewer positioned the cabin in the same location as the floor at the front of the Assembly – dangling in mid-air above the saurian Earth. The members were taking their seats so we waited, the great ship’s sophisticated wind sensor and control system holding the cabin steady. After a while the President called the Assembly to order. The time had arrived.
The slider machine wound up with its teeth-aching hum and the scene on the viewer appeared full-size as the hole opened. I stepped through onto the floor, into the dead silence of complete shock. The machine wound down behind me. I nodded pleasantly at the President and General Secretary, then strode up to the podium. It wasn’t strictly necessary for me to speak out loud – all present could mind-link, and although they didn’t all understand English very well the corps of interpreters had rapidly transformed themselves into converting mental as well as audible speech. However, this session was being broadcast around the world, and few viewers yet enjoyed the remote mind-linking technology.
After the usual pleasantries I launched into my prepared speech, my voice rather hoarse with disuse.
‘The last time I addressed you, it was to send a mixed message, warning of impending disaster but raising the hope of avoiding the worst consequences, through the assistance of the saurians. This time, my message is equally important, but entirely positive. I have come to tell you of a new opportunity which has opened up for mankind – a whole new world which will enable you to resolve many of the major problems which you now face, provided it is handled carefully and constructively.’
I went on to tell them about the discovery of New Earth, and its history. Then I described to them the offer of the saurians to arrange for the transfer of large numbers of people to the empty world. The excitement in the great room built up steadily as I spoke, with some initial incomprehension as well; I realised that the news that physical transfer between parallel worlds was now possible had not yet been widely disseminated, and the ability to locate empty worlds – let alone the discovery of one – had been kept very quiet by the scientists involved. Then I turned to my conclusion.
‘Before this transfer can begin, you need to agree a number of issues. One which almost decides itself is who will have the rights to which areas of land; we can only transfer people to the same location as they are currently in, so New Yorkers will step through into the new New York – although in terms of its physical structure, it will seem very old, with not a single skyscraper! However, within that there is the potential to resolve a number of intractable problems. To give an obvious example, New Earth contains a Holy Land, with a Jerusalem, a Temple Mount, and the same religious tradition. And all empty of people. I do not need to spell out the possibilities. Another self-evident truth is that we cannot transport everyone at once; you will need to determine the priorities. Will it be refugees? Or those who are experiencing famine? Persecuted minorities? Or those who wish to set up different nations or kinds of culture? But you must also bear in mind other practical limitations. At the simplest level, we could transport people who are starving in Africa to a New Africa which is not suffering from over-grazing, over-use of water, or the negative effects of climate change. All they would need is temporary shelters, tools to help them clear the ground and enough basic supplies to keep them going until their first crops matured. However, anything more than a subsistence level existence would need much more elaborate preparation. The water supply and drainage systems in urban areas would need renovating, as would the buildings. There is no power supply. No functioning transport system. No vehicles. A major engineering effort would be required to make even the smallest city habitable in a way which most people would find acceptable. This may be a productive use of the manpower of the world’s armies, but only small equipment can be sent through the slider holes. The colonisation of New Earth will be a long, slow process. Before I finish, I would like to introduce someone to you – the Convenor of the Planetary Assembly of the saurian Earth.’
On cue, I became aware of the rising electrical tension, and as I walked down to the floor of the Assembly the slider hole popped into existence beside me. The Convenor was standing in front of the hole. I reached through and touched her head. She hopped through the hole and I shut down her conscious mind for the fraction of a second it took for her head to pass through; she scarcely stumbled as she walked with the usual saurian awkwardness into the Assembly and headed for the podium. I scanned the Assembly’s mood and ruefully reflected that they were getting so used to experiencing severe multiple shocks whenever I appeared in front of them that they were in danger of developing a Pavlovian response and keeling over whenever they saw me.
The Convenor spoke in good if strange-sounding English – she was much more used to reading than speaking it. Fortunately, she was thinking it as well, so the message came through loud and clear. After the diplomatic formalities, she elaborated on the saurian offer, detailing what they could do in building and operating more slider machines, and how many people per hour could be expected to pass through each of them. The human scientists who had helped develop the slider machine had tested it and discovered that, with their newly-acquired mind-linking ability, they experienced the same problems that saurians had in crossing through the slider hole, so would have to pass through unconscious. I wondered in passing why and how I seemed to be the only individual with mind-linking powers who was able to cope with the transfer.
She concluded with the following words: ‘Finally, in carrying this out we respectfully urge you to bear in mind the mistakes of the past, and to establish principles of sustainable development so that the New Earth can enjoy the prospect of a much happier history than this one, or indeed than the tragic fate which befell its original inhabitants. Now it is up to you.’
The applause started slowly then built to a storm of approval. The Convenor seemed rather taken aback – not the response she was used to from her own Assembly, I guessed. I sent her a private message: ‘This makes a nice change – let’s get out while we’re ahead.’
We solemnly processed to the reopened slider hole and passed through, the applause ringing in our ears.
Back on the ship, Richards sent his congratulations. Just before he signed off, he added a parting shot, tinged with wry amusement. ‘You do realise, don’t you, that you said “you” when talking about humanity and “we” when mentioning the saurians?’
I pondered that one for a while, my feeling of dislocation returning. Just where exactly did I belong?
Back at Laketown – the Assembly having decided to stay put for the duration of the current crises of the New Earth and the S2 exchange – we discovered that the S2 Representative had returned from his brief tour just a couple of hours before. A formal celebration of his visit and the discovery of New Earth had been arranged for that evening. His S1 “minders” had clearly been conditioning him, since at the sight of me he managed to control his obvious emotions, although I still picked up a vague sense of deep-rooted abhorrence.
After the Convenor made a little speech in honour of the Representative and gave her formal report on the visit to the UN (hardly necessary as those present all knew the details anyway, but even the S1 saurians were not averse to a little formality from time to time), the Representative responded vocally, his mind closed. This was mentally translated into S1 saurian (by one of their experts on S2) and subsequently into English (by Tertia, sitting next to me), so I followed what he was saying with only a slight delay. He thanked his hosts for their hospitality, complimented them on the beauty of their world – although he commented that it seemed remarkably empty – and then dropped his bombshell.