A Learning Experience

Chapter Nineteen

New York, USA

After some careful diplomatic negotiation, it had been decided that Steve could beam directly into the United Nations itself, rather than face the gathering crowds outside the building. All of New York seemed to have come to a halt as protesters, in favour of Steve or against, had descended on the city. According to the reports Steve had seen, the NYPD — completely overwhelmed — had called for reinforcements from all over the State and convinced the Governor to call up the National Guard. It was still proving hard to control the crowds.

The silver light faded away, revealing a UN staffer who looked rather shocked by what he’d seen. Steve smiled at him, noted the man’s nametag — KOMURA — and then allowed the Japanese man to lead him towards the waiting room. According to Kevin, who had slipped bugs into the UN after the emergency session had been called, several ambassadors had been replaced in a hurry by more senior representatives, while hundreds of deals were being struck under the table. But then, Steve acknowledged, they’d done the same themselves. His representatives had spoken to several democratic governments, offering fusion and other technological goodies in exchange for recognition. He had a feeling that the overall response relied upon the outcome of the coming session.

“The Secretary-General will summon you in ten minutes,” Komura informed him. He looked as though he wanted to ask a few questions, but held his tongue. “Nothing about this is normal, I’m afraid.”

Steve nodded and waited until the man had made his escape, then checked the bracelet at his wrist. The force shield should protect him from anything up to and including an IED, but he was grimly aware that human ingenuity might find a way to break through it. Light passed through the shield, after all, and a teleport lock could be blocked fairly easily, even with human technology. The Secret Service had already started to broadcast radio signals through the White House, ensuring that Steve couldn’t kidnap the President if the whim struck him.

He rolled his eyes at the thought. Why would he want the President?

It was nearly an hour before Komura returned and invited him to proceed into the General Assembly Chamber. Steve, who had been monitoring Kevin’s observations of the diplomats, wasn’t surprised at the delay. The Russians had already lodged a strong complaint with the Security Council, backed up by China, while they were trying hard to line up other backers from the rest of the Assembly. In the meantime, the French seemed caught between the Russians and the promise of fusion technology, while Britain and Canada were reserving judgement. From what the President had said, there was too much political strife in America itself to make any promises about which way the United States would jump.

Steve had grown up in the countryside and he had never been able to understand why New Yorkers chose to cram so many people into so small a place. The old hints of claustrophobia came back in full force as he stepped into the chamber and faced the stares of the gathered diplomats, ambassadors and world leaders. Part of him wanted to trigger the emergency signal and teleport out, vanishing in a haze of silver light. Surely, facing the Taliban armed with only his fists would be easier than facing so many hostile stares.

They can’t do anything to you, he told himself, firmly. And they can’t stop you either.

But somehow the thought didn’t help.

The silence shattered with an angry demand from the Russian Ambassador in Russian. It took the interface a few seconds to provide a translation — the Russian was complaining about the violation of the Outer Space Treaty — and in the meantime several other ambassadors started shouting too. The Chinese Ambassador seemed to believe that Steve had undermined his country’s laws, something that puzzled him, while several African ambassadors were railing against the white man. But it was hard to be sure. Everything was just blurring together into a god-awful racket.

There was a loud banging from the General Secretary’s seat. “Order,” he snapped, as the room started to quieten down. “Mr. Stuart. You have been… invited here to give your side of the story.”

Steve smiled. “You make it sound as though I am on trial,” he said, gathering himself. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that the General Secretary had any real power. If the five permanent members of the Security Council agreed, they could do whatever they damn well pleased. “Might I ask what the charges are?”

There were some titters from the reporters, but the diplomats remained silent.

“It is our intention,” Steve said, when it became clear that no one else was going to speak, “to establish a new nation covering the solar system, one capable of defending the human race against alien threats and taking humanity to the stars. We do not intend to become embroiled in affairs on Earth, nor do we recognise the existence of treaties intended to limit the development of outer space.”

“Those treaties were signed by your country,” the Russian Ambassador bellowed.

“The human race is not alone,” Steve continued, ignoring him. “There are over ten thousand alien races out there, some of whom have already kidnapped humans from Earth and turned them into living weapons. Others will see us as a threat… or a prize to be won. And, right now, Earth’s defences rest in our hands. There is nothing the massed might of the United Nations” — he fought down the urge to let loose an undiplomatic snigger — “can do to protect the planet, if one of the Galactics decide they want it.

“You speak of international treaties and accuse us of breaking them. The Galactics are not signatory to any of our treaties, nor should we expect them to respect our legal positions. We do not, yet, have the force necessary to hold our own. It is our priority — and it should be the priority of the entire planet — to build both that defensive force and a society capable of facing the galaxy calmly, but confidently. That is our task.

“We invite other humans, individual humans, to join us. Give us those who want to build a new world, those with the dreams that will take them to the stars, those who wish something more than the hidebound governments of Earth can provide. We will take all who are willing to fit into our society and work to defend Earth.”

He paused, long enough to realise that he had captured the attention of everyone in the vast chamber. “You have demanded that we hand over the ships and technology to you,” he said, looking at the Russian and Chinese representatives. “We must refuse to comply with your request. Quite apart from the grim awareness of just what you would do with the technology that has fallen into our hands, we have no faith in the governments of Earth. How could this organisation, an organisation that produces little beyond corruption and paperwork, hope to coordinate the defence of the entire world?

“We make you this offer. Recognise our right to exist, place no bar in the path of anyone who wishes to join us and we will trade technology to improve your lives. Fusion power will transform your societies, medical technology will help cure your ill… there are no shortage of possible pieces of technology we can offer you. But we only offer it on the condition you stay out of our way.

“If you refuse, you will get nothing. We will not interfere with you. But we will not grant you our technology either.”

There was a long silence, broken — eventually — by the representative from Iran, who started ranting about American interference and infidel lies. This time, Steve understood; Wilhelm Tech had openly admitted their alliance with Heinlein Colony and Iran had banned the dongles, which hadn’t prevented Iranians from smuggling them into the country. The Chinese, he realised, probably had the same concerns. Their firewalls, intended to prevent their citizens from plotting resistance to their rulers, had been neatly circumvented.

We will have to do something about their nukes, Steve thought, coldly. But it wouldn’t sit well with the pledge of non-interference. Or perhaps we should just leave the Middle East to them.

Komura beckoned to Steve frantically as the roar grew louder. UN security forces were rushing into the room, hastily preparing to separate the ambassadors if the threatening riot actually materialised. Steve hesitated, then allowed the Japanese man to lead him out of the chamber and into a small antechamber. Inside, there was a comfortable pair of armchairs and a small tray of expensive alcohol. Steve took one look, then dismissed it.

“There are some diplomats who wish to talk to you,” Komura said. “In private, I should add.”

He hesitated, then leaned forward. “Are you interested in recruiting a semi-professional diplomat?”

Steve turned to look at him. “And you’re interested in being hired?”

“Yes,” Komura said. “Have you ever tried to work here?”

“No,” Steve said. He gave the young man a long considering look, then nodded to himself and produced one of Charles’s cards from his pocket. “Call this number, then go to the address they give you for pickup. You’ll have to undergo a security check first, but if you pass you’ll be welcome.”

Komura nodded. “And if I don’t pass?”

“Nothing bad will happen,” Steve said. “But you won’t get to see the stars.”

By the time he finally found time to move to the hotel and meet the reporter, Steve felt utterly exhausted. As he’d expected, several nations had attempted to strike private bargains with him, the French and Israelis being the most persistent. The latter had good reason to need Steve’s technology — they’d offered everything from diplomatic recognition to outright military support — but the former seemed to be playing both ends off against the middle in hopes of coming out ahead. It was a typically underhand dealing for diplomats in the UN.

Gunter Dawlish had started to report from Afghanistan after Steve had retired from the military, but his name wasn’t unfamiliar. Steve had read a few of his articles before the attempted abduction, what now felt like years ago. He’d spoken to Craig Henderson and a couple of others he knew who had stayed in uniform and they’d all confirmed that Dawlish was a straight-shooter. Maybe not inclined to take everything said by the military for granted — Steve could hardly blame him for that attitude in an age of spin — but not an ideological or personal enemy of the armed forces.

“Mr. Stuart,” Dawlish greeted him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

Steve smiled. Before Dawlish had finally been accepted as the first reporter to get a private interview, Kevin had interrogated him thoroughly. The reporter had agreed to let Steve and Kevin read his article before it was posted, then make changes if any were suggested. Steve had agreed, in turn, that the whole interview would be recorded and the only changes would concern his own words, rather than the editorial slant. Later, the record would be released on the internet in any case.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “And thank you for agreeing to meet something private.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to risk this scoop,” Dawlish assured him. He took a seat and then motioned for Steve to sit down facing him. “First question, then. Where you responsible for events in Afghanistan?”

Steve lifted his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said, finally. “We were.”

Dawlish nodded, then changed tack. “How much of the official story is actually true?”

“Almost all of it,” Steve said, without going into details. So far, the President had managed to cover up most of the DHS raid and he wasn’t going to broadcast the story unilaterally. “All you really need to know is that we were kidnapped by aliens, turned the tables on them and took control of their ship.”

“And that there really is an alien threat,” Dawlish said. “Do you believe we can build a defence in time?”

Steve met the reporter’s eyes. “I believe that if we don’t try, right now, we will never know,” he said. “Earth is small beans, by Galactic standards. Most of them don’t even have the faintest idea we exist and care less. But that is about to change. We will be… protected, if we’re lucky, or enslaved if we’re not. Building a formidable defence is our only hope of salvation.”

Dawlish nodded. “There’s been a lot of speculation on the internet about what kind of society you intend to build,” he said. “Some people have been expecting a redneck paradise, with only WASPs allowed, while others think you’re going to build a Objectivist dream, with you as John Galt. What do you really intend to build?”

Steve frowned, inwardly. The President had also mentioned John Galt. Coincidence?

Probably, he decided. “I don’t have time to explain all the flaws in Atlas Shrugged,” he said, after a moment. “Unless you want to turn the rest of the interview into a literary criticism session?”

Dawlish shook his head, hastily.

Somewhat amused, Steve went on. “The short answer is that we intend to build a democratic state built on individual rights and responsibilities,” he said. “Generally, anyone who is willing to accept the rights and responsibilities of being a citizen will be welcome to join us as a voting citizen. We don’t really give a shit — pardon my French — about age, race, sexual orientation or religion. As long as someone is prepared to uphold their rights and responsibilities, they are welcome.”

“That’s interesting,” Dawlish said. “There’s a preacher in Montana claiming you’re going to build a world without homosexuals, Jews, Muslims and Catholics.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m not a member of any church,” he said. “I can’t be held responsible for a loudmouth who just happens to share the same state as myself. If anyone else thinks I should be…”

He shrugged, again. “That’s their problem,” he explained. “Basically, we intend to uphold personal rights and responsibilities. You have the right to do whatever you please as long as you don’t hurt non-consenting adults. If you do, you will be tried by a jury and punished as the jury sees fit. We expect there will be some teething problems along the way, but that’s the basic idea.”

“Some teething problems,” Dawlish said. “I used to study the opening of the Wild West. Just establishing law and order took years.”

“We may well have the same problems,” Steve said. “I have several people looking at legal issues for homesteaders in the outer solar system. Upholding their rights requires a force capable of doing just that, but such a force could easily turn into a major problem in its own right. Just look at the federal government.”

Dawlish leaned forward. “Are you anti-government?”

Steve had expected the question, but it was still tricky to answer. “I believe that as long as humans are imperfect beings, we need some form of government,” he said. “A lawless anarchy might sound ideal, but it would rapidly devolve into the stronger picking on the weaker. At the same time, I believe that the government can grow too big and too powerful and become a bully itself. That, I think, is what has happened to our federal government.

“I could cite any number of cases where federal authority has been abused, without any recourse for the victim of federal mistreatment. There are farmers who have been raided for daring to sell untreated milk, small businesses ruined by pointless petty regulations, political correctness allowed to drive wedges between people, policemen abusing the general public, lives torn apart and people jailed because of the tiny difference between a legal and illegal weapon. And, if you look at the laws the right way, everything the government does is perfectly legal.

“But it sure as hell isn’t right.

“I don’t promise paradise,” he concluded. “Our hopes of creating a post-scarcity society have faded when we discovered the colossal power requirements for constructing matter out of raw energy. Building our society will be a long and bumpy road, but we have the experience of previous societies to guide us and help us avoid mistakes.”

“But you’ll create new ones of your own,” Dawlish commented.

“Oh, certainly,” Steve agreed. “But we’ll try to learn from our mistakes.”

Dawlish nodded. “How do you intend to relate to nations down on Earth?”

“Ideally, we won’t have anything more than friendly trade relationships,” Steve said. “Maybe not even that, for non-democratic states. Our intention, as always, is to build an off-world society capable of facing the challenges of the stars. We have no intention of building an empire on Earth.”

“I’m sure the federal government is relieved to hear that,” Dawlish said.

Steve nodded, but said nothing.

“However, there are worse states than the United States,” Dawlish added. “Don’t you think you have a moral responsibility to deal with them?”

“I really hate it when people suggest I have a moral responsibility to do anything,” Steve admitted. “On the face of it, I suppose you do have a point. But let’s face it — we overthrew Saddam and, partly because of problems in the federal government, we wound up fighting a bloody war for six years. There’s still a striking lack of gratitude in large parts of the Middle East.”

He held up a hand before Dawlish could say a word. “I know, we didn’t help them as much as we had hoped,” he added. “But it put me off future interventions even before we captured the alien ship. In future, our only interventions will be against governments that refuse to allow their people to leave their states and go to space.”

“I see,” Dawlish said. “I have quite a few other questions…”

Steve grinned. “I’ve a better idea,” he said. “How would you like to see the moon?”

Dawlish grinned back. “I’d love it.”