World Without Weapons
Part One
Paz orbited peacefully above the planet. Aboard the Terran ship, however, the atmosphere was tense. A slight technological edge, a case of mere centuries, had allowed the Earth to choose to be the visitors.
Of course, everything had started when Humanity finally reached for the stars. It had taken millennia, but it had happened. After centuries of works of fiction depicting all kinds of spacefaring stories, science and technology had finally caught up with our imagination.
An age of desperation came next. People discovered the true meaning of “astronomical distances”: years upon years of travel on ships that reached a fraction of the speed of light just to reach your backyard, always hoping that a neighbour might pop up over a fence and say hello. But as larger portions of the galaxy were explored, it simply didn’t happen.
Traditionally, when astrophysicists and xenobiologists had been asked about the possibility of life on other planets, they had always been cautious. “Life? Definitely yes, but most probably microbial.” “Intelligent life? We hope, but who knows.” “The galaxy’s so large that it seems odd we’re alone.”
Yet we always wondered. Nobody could be sure. All we had was a sample of one life-sustaining planet, one civilization, and it wasn’t enough to be sure. Perhaps the Universe did need a whole galaxy to create one single civilization. Perhaps we were alone, after all. Reaching a point where we could dare traverse the Milky Way had taken long enough; crossing the cosmic sea was seen as an impossible task even for those trailblazers. The reality of millions of light-years of travel was too much to bear.
Then came the contentment, the spreading of Humanity. After all, even one galaxy was large enough, and exploring it all would take long enough.
Until They were found. The First Contact took place as science had predicted: through electromagnetic signals. It must have been simultaneous, us and them finding our waves bouncing off our detectors, so weak and almost lost among the galactic noise. Yet, once one knew where to look, so clearly there.
We were not alone.
It was exhilarating.
However, as if it was some kind of cosmic joke, the location calculated for They put them basically at the other side of the Milky Way, just off the galactic center, so that by sheer luck our signals grazed the nucleus and reached each other.
Communication was attempted, in a strange, leapfrog way. Every message we received, every signal we sent, had a trip that lasted thousands of years. First we had to understand them, how they communicated, which methods they used, learning how to speak an alien language, finding out whether there was only one or many. Then we had to let them know we were there, and that we were friendly. We were explorers, and we were coming. And then, as we jumped forward, at the same time we were waiting. Perhaps They had killed themselves and we were trying to talk to ghosts.
Patience.
Humanity had learned patience.
They became almost a legend, as generation upon generation of humans found new worlds, terraformed them, and inhabited them. Yet at the same time, we had ships going Their way. We never gave up, always monitoring Their signals ahead, always sending reports back, confirming They were still alive, us getting closer. Closer.
Did They have hope as well?
Centuries later, we discovered they did. A message was finally found, directed to us, and They knew we were coming. From then on, the conversation took centuries to come and go, yet it happened, with our ships approaching fast.
Fast. It looked like a joke.
It still took centuries. They were advanced, but had only recently started space travelling. They had barely gone beyond their home system, and that was possible because They lived within a cluster: Their neighbour stars were really close. Where we had spread wide and thin, they had packed close to home.
And early enough something was evident: They had no weapons. None was ever used, none appeared.
Paz was chosen to be the first Terran ship to touch down on Their home planet. Ambassadors had been appointed, translators provided. Personal exoskeletons readied to support the humans’ weight on the stronger gravity, breathers readied. The expedition members had been briefed on Them and their customs. Xenobiologists and xenopsychologists warned that many details were still to be smoothed out.
An orbital rendezvous could have been chosen, but They preferred a landing party. Paz had been escorted by three ships, however, for the last leg of her journey. Her shuttle was also accompanied by suborbital ships on her way down.
And the real First Contact, on the flesh, finally took place.
*****
Part Two
“Ambassador *^´, it’s a pleasure to finally meet face to face. This is quite possibly the most important moment for both our civilizations.”
Chang wondered how her AI would translate the idiom. They didn’t have a proper face. Still *^´ took it in stride and apparently understood. Their media were broadcasting the event planetwide. Chang hadn’t exaggerated the effect the Terran visit was having on Them.
“The… pleasure is all ours. We’re… glad to meet you Terrans, after all this time.”
And as rehearsed, *^´ embraced Chang, at least as much as their different physiologies and Chang’s exoskeleton allowed. There were already talks to make the Terran AIs able to interface with Their nanotechnology, in order to allow for less cumbersome visits. But for now it represented just a minor inconvenience for Chang. The embrace took as long as Their tradition required, then Chang placed her right hand over her heart and bowed in Terran fashion, *^´ following suit as approximately as he could.
After that, the Terran party joined Them for a meal. Of course, the Terrans had brought their own food, as their physiology were incompatible with Their chemistry. Further analysis would be carried out to ascertain whether some kind of compromise was safe.
Ambassador Chang was plenipotentiary; it had to be that way, given the distances involved when travelling among the stars. In fact, Chang had never been closer than some seventy-five thousand light-years to Earth, and she never would be, unless somehow They had faster than light drives that They chose not to use.
“I… want to thank you for waiting… until today,” *^´said. “We… celebrate our… Festival.”
For a second, Chang thought her AI had tried to add something before ‘Festival’. But they had already discussed this.
“A few more days represented no effort, Ambassador,” she said. “And if that way we can honour your people, it’s our pleasure.”
“Will you… walk with me outside?”
“Of course.”
Chang and *^´ reached a balcony and stared out. The city below them was large, larger than anything Chang, a born spacer, had ever seen. In fact, not many Terran planets boasted massive cities: they consumed resources that a thinly spread civilization could not afford. But They had spread comprehensively throughout their own and neighbouring systems. Perhaps the Terra of old looked like this, Chang thought.
There was commotion on the street below. A large crowd approached.
“Ah, the Festival.”
Chang nodded, idly wondering how the AI translated the much different body language, if at all.
“It is fortunate… that your expedition has arrived now, of all times. Really fortunate. In the old times… some of us would have… thanked the gods for that. But none of us has… believed in gods for a long time.
“Our past is… full of strife, Ambassador Chang.”
The crowd approached, chanting in unison. They carried platforms with giant figures, and they shook them fervently. Chang’s AI couldn’t catch enough of the chant to offer her a translation, if there was any. She enhanced her eyesight to discern that the figures were clearly of the race of Them.
“War is a… relic of our past,” Ambassador *^´ said. “But we do not… forget. Every millennium, we build statues of… the tyrants, parade them through the streets, and then… tear them down.”
As if on cue, the chant reached a crescendo, and the platforms shook a final time. The statues tumbled, one by one, and disappeared under the crowd. Through her AI, Chang saw how they were trampled, broken and biten.
Without weapons.
“It’s the way we are, Ambassador Chang. We’re… proud of who we are, of the way that has led us here.
“We do not forget.”
Chang stared, fascinated, at the savage spectacle taking place down below.
“This is… our most important… holiday,” *^´ said. “As I told you, it is fortunate you have seen it. There will not be another one until the next millennium.”
Chang wasn’t sure whether it was a statement, a warning, or a deadline.
~~~~
This is my entry for this week’s Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenge: A World Without Guns. This week the challenge was to write 1500 words based on a world where guns are gone.
And I found I didn’t have any good ideas. Or at least, ideas I felt I wanted to develop. Until a good friend, Voima Oy, tweeted this flash story*:
“War is a relic of our past, the alien said. But we do not forget. Every millennium, we build statues of the tyrants, parade them through the streets, and then tear them down.”
I liked it, and I felt I could build my story upon it, so I asked and got her permission.
In the end, I cannot say I’m completely happy with the story I came up with, but here it is anyway.
*If interested, follow the #VSS365 tag on Twitter. There are quite a lot of people writing one piece of flash fiction (or more) a day using a daily prompt.
