Report from the Field

Mike Resnick and Lezli Robyn

 

 

 

 

To Galactic Coordinator Ryllf:

 

Day 1, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I am to receive this assignment. We have been observing the planet the inhabitants call “Earth” for more than four hundred million years now. At first we couldn’t understand why they would not respond to our signals, which was the reason for the First Expedition, but what we discovered was that evolution seemed to be occurring at a much slower rate here than in neighboring systems. We returned sporadically, and although a race known as Man had finally developed sentience, it did not have the technological wherewithal to receive our signals or send any of its own, so we passed word to our member worlds not to bother trying to contact Earth until we informed them that the inhabitants were capable of capturing and interpreting our signals.

It was less than a century ago that our observation post in the Spiral Arm observed a marked increase in Earth’s level of neutrino activity; we have given them these few extra years to develop before telling the Galactic Community at large that it is acceptable to make contact with them. We never want to be guilty of rushing things; I’m sure we’re all painfully aware of the unfortunate situation on Blarnigog IV. (Well, on what used to be Blarnigog IV, anyway.)

I will be using our standard procedures to monitor their transmissions and get a better idea concerning how best to alert them that a vast and long-established Galactic Community has been observing them for almost half a billion years, just waiting to welcome them into the fold.

I am both proud and honored that you have chosen me to be the one to make the initial contact.

 

Day 2, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

I am truly impressed by this gritty little race. Most of them live in cities, all concrete and steel and glass, and some of these cities hold ten million or more inhabitants. All right, that’s insignificant compared to some of our megalopolises, but a million years ago, on our last visit here, their progenitors were living in trees.

They are centuries, perhaps a millennium, away from fast and inexpensive forms of transportation such as teleportation, but they have developed mass travel on land, on sea, and in the air. They have created written languages, eliminated most disease, have invented a remedial (but functional) form of computer based on, of all things, the silicon chip, and have even managed to construct an orbiting space station.

I am sure I will report that they are ready for membership in the Galactic Community—and oh, the things we can teach them! I hate it when we offer to initiate a race such as the Breff and they arrogantly claim to need none of the myriad benefits we can bring them. The people of Earth still die of old age, they haven’t yet discovered even the simplest means of exceeding the speed of light, their medical science hasn’t yet mastered the brain transplant, and their agriculture is so backward that there are actually hungry people on the planet. In a week’s time we can show them how to feed everyone on a continent with the food that is produced on only six square pryllches, and with a simple injection at maturity no one will ever show the effects, visual or internal, of age.

This world has been isolated long enough. I will monitor its transmissions for a few more days, making notes on all the areas in which we can bring our expertise to bear, but there is no question in my mind that it is time to invite Earth into our community and give it the full range of benefits that accrue to all our members.

 

Day 4, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

I may have spoken a bit too soon.

I saw some disturbing transmissions today. I am not sure that I fully understand them, but they have convinced me that the situation bears further study before we make too hasty a decision.

There seems to be a small round creature, relatively helpless, without any discernable means of locomotion. It is spherical in shape, white, clearly defenseless, resembling in almost every way the adorable quiblit of Altair IV. You might remember that more than a million quiblit were slaughtered on their home world when one race from the Galactic Community first colonized their planet an eon ago, not realizing that they were sentient—or even alive. I have not as yet been able to determine the genus or species of this white sphere, but I feel I must do so with some degree of haste, for clearly its existence on Earth is otherwise of limited duration.

I was subjected to the appalling spectacle of Men taking turns beating these poor creatures with elongated clubs in the most sadistic possible displays. Not only that, but literally tens of thousands more Men cheered lustily every time one of these creatures was struck with a club.

The worst part? Many of the creatures somehow survived, and their reward was to be pummeled by the club-wielding Men again and again.

Such public displays of brutality are not readily discerned except in select locations, but that they exist at all gives me a very uneasy feeling about this race.

Clearly a certain degree of sadism exists just beneath the surface. When I could no longer force myself to watch the endless torture of the round creatures, I sought other transmissions to see if this was an aberration I had uncovered, or if I had not previously been looking deeply enough into the race’s motivations.

And what I found was a transmission labeled “Late Night Entertainment,” depicting a confrontation between a male and a female of the species. The lighting was poor, even after I internally adjusted my optical lenses, but I was able to make out most of their actions. At first I thought they were simply practicing a new means of sharing their food supply, because they kept pressing their mouths together—but then (and I am not fabricating this, bizarre as it seems) the larger of the two began peeling layers of skin from the smaller! A moment later the instigator was running his manipulators and mouth all over what was left of the smaller one’s body; she was clearly too terrified to contemplate escaping, and her moans and screams were so horrifying that I fear I shall hear them to my dying day.

“Entertainment”? What kind of race can possibly find this entertaining?

Day 8, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

It may be noted that it has been some time since my last report. It took longer than expected for me to be able to purge the negative emotions I experienced when watching the last transmissions I reported on; and this was necessary for me to objectively consider the latest revelations of this complicated race. I was determined to discover some more positive aspects of Man, and I did indeed do so—at least initially.

Man has a rather remarkable ability to empathize with creatures of limited intelligence, which I find puzzling when I consider how I’ve just seen him treat his own kind. They even call one species that often cohabits with them “Man’s best friend,” and can be heard cooing to it in high-pitched tones, thereby causing the creature’s nether-most appendage to spasm uncontrollably. For reasons unknown to me this seems to be a desirable response. So is allowing these four-footed creatures to drag their owners around the city, usually before the sun has arisen, just so they can defecate on the very objects Man seems to take such pride in building. And here is the most puzzling part of all: the creatures—their most common identifications seem to be Pookey, Cuddles, or Fluffy—are often being overfed to death in the name of love.

Is this another example of cruelty (albeit a passive version) on the part of Man? I was not sure, so I decided to investigate how they treated their own young.The transmissions I found on the subject were, in a word, astonishing.

First I saw something termed a “documentary” on water births, which is apparently a modern way of helping the females expel their offspring. However, I couldn’t see how it could possibly help the female, who alternated between screaming incoherently and yelling “I will never let you touch me again!” to her mate during the final stages of the process.

It should also be noted that once the offspring is born it is immediately turned upside down and pelted sharply on its waste conductor—an unnecessary torture that caused the offspring to cry in agony and begin gasping for air.

And this barbaric ritual is not confined just to water births. Indeed, many human medics (the ones I had previously praised for eradicating many diseases) seem to take great pleasure in pelting a newborn infant immediately after it is born in a hospital, just to hear it scream in pain, before returning it to the mother so they can move on to pelt the next one.

I am at a loss to discover the purpose of this ritual, other than to introduce the offspring to violence at an early age, and I am starting to strongly suspect that this sentient race is not as evolved as I initially thought. In fact, I am beginning to have considerable doubt as to Man’s ability to interact and work with the civilized races of the Galactic Community. How could this race have made such huge scientific advancements in such a short time, and still exhibit such obvious signs of barbarism? Clearly I will have to study them further.

 

Day 9, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

For today’s research I decided I needed to determine how Man instinctively perceives himself before I can fully understand how we should perceive them as a race. So I looked for transmissions that focused on the race’s artistic development to see what I could glean from their use of creative mediums.

Again, I was surprised. For a sentient race, they seem to have very primitive means of expressing themselves. While I discovered some simply beautiful art pieces, such as the statue of David, generally Man seems to have an inclination to revere the more flawed pieces of creation, perhaps as a metaphor for how he sees himself. The arm-less Venus de Milo and the headless Winged Victory are held in no less esteem than the complete David.

There is a museum in Amsterdam that showcases the art of one Vincent van Gogh, who by all accounts was a mentally disturbed being, mutilating one of his own auditory appendages before self-terminating more than a century ago. For reasons that elude me, members of his own species still revere the paintings he created, calling them “cutting edge.” (I haven’t been able to adequately translate that term, though I suspect it may refer in some obscure way to the removal of his auditory appendage with a sharp object.) The proportions of the various structures depicted in his “paintings” are clearly mathematically inaccurate, and yet it is that very inaccuracy that seems to inspire the most admiration. So I decided to look at the work of more recent artists on the assumption that Man’s creative ability must surely have evolved in the intervening century. After determining only to research artists whose work is respected by a large percentage of the population (thus ensuring I would have a more complete understanding of Man’s perceptions in general), I discovered the paintings of Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Ruiz y Picasso—an impressive name, to be sure—and was shocked to discover that this man, probably the most revered artist of the past millennium, had such a distorted vision of humanity. He often painted faces in which both optical lenses were on the same side of the olfactory appendage, or in which the skin—which comes in various shades of black, brown, tan, red, yellow, and pink among Man’s sub- races—was blue. In fact, he frequently painted contorted images of both the male and female members of his species, their forms brutally mutilated and twisted almost beyond recognition.

I must conclude that if this is what is praised above all other artwork, Man is still a barbarian at heart—even his depictions of himself are violent. However, just to be certain, I examined the works of one other highly respected artist, Salvador Dali, but words are inadequate to describe the endless aberrations I encountered in painting after painting.

At this moment, based on these observations, I am leaning toward the conclusion that Man is not ready to be offered membership at this time. However, before I make my final decision and formally submit my findings, I feel I must determine if there is a potential in Man that outweighs what I have seen to date.

 

Day 12, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

It occurred to me, as I again consigned myself to watching more of Earth’s transmissions, that the two genders of this race—so different as to almost be considered separate species—do not appear to have equal status on their world. It is clear to me that the female gender of the race is weaker in physical proportions, so I sought out transmissions that focused on the limitations of the female form—and what I unearthed appalled me. I discovered that, as small as they already are, it is an accepted notion in their society for females to deny themselves the necessary nutrients to be physically healthy, because apparently starving their form makes them more attractive to their potential mates.

Yes, I know this sounds absurd, but the evidence is overwhelming. In fact, females who obtain the truest form of Man’s desire are designated by the term “models.” So using that word I intercepted a transmission depicting “catwalk models,” to see what represents perfection in Man’s eyes. To say that I was shocked is actually understating the case. The transmission displayed females whose skeletal structures often showed through various points of their skin, their fragile frames encased in uncomfortable-looking coverings that appeared to limit their movement.

And they did not look like happy specimens of their race. All of the females exhibited unresponsive—one might even say lifeless—facial conformations, clearly to mask their pain as they strode down the “catwalk” wearing long-spiked torture devices on the bottoms of their locomotive appendages.

They would not even react when the spectators surrounding them started banging their manipulators together (to keep them submissive with the threat of violence, perhaps?) as they reached the end of the “catwalk.” Instead each model would turn this way and that with that soulless look to her face, pause as if stunned to realize she was trapped, and then turn around and retreat the way she had come—only to repeat the torture encased in another more uncomfortable contraption not five minutes later.

Not only this, but in transmission after transmission I find that females, and to some extent males as well, mutilate their flesh, piercing auditory and olfactory appendages and even more personal body parts with everything from metal to superhardened carbon, evidently on the assumption that such displays of courage in the face of senseless pain find favor in the eyes of the opposite sex.

I was utterly confounded. I had to discover if the threat of violence was the underlying reason females mutilated various body parts and deprived themselves of life-sustaining nutrients in order to attract a mate, or whether there was a deeper psychological reason that could explain such unnatural acts. So I began to research what females desired in a mate to better understand their mentality, and quickly discovered there were many mating manuals on the subject, all helpfully categorized (and thus easily researchable) as “romance novels.”

To make sure I was getting an accurate perception of the female mind in general, I read only the manuals that were considered the most popular of their kind—and there I made the most horrifying discovery. It appears that there is a sub-species of Man that Earth females are unable to resist. This object of lust is always “tall, dark, and handsome,” exhibiting “bedroom eyes” (which I assume are carried in with them and donned only within the confines of the sleeping quarters) and a “silken touch” (incomprehensible) that can immediately mesmerize the female when employed—and once mesmerized, he actually drinks their blood!

Yes, you read correctly. This sub-species of Man practices a form of barbaric cannibalism that either kills the victim to unnaturally sustain his own violent existence or infects them so they devolve to also live the “tortured life of the undead.” And for some baffling reason, the females of Earth find it wildly pleasing when a vampire (the designation of this violent sub- species) tells them that their blood is so desirable to him that he has to fight not to “drain her dry,” which I have since discovered is a euphemism for killing them.

How could any sentient creature find the threat of death attractive? That they willingly put themselves in violent life-threatening situations, declaring their (ironically) undying love for these dangerous and dominating Vampires, leads me to the conclusion that this race is instinctively drawn to violence on nearly all levels of their collective psyche.

And if Man’s propensity for violence could possibly deny him a position in the Galactic Community, I believe the presence of Vampires (even if they are just a minority) requires that First Contact be made by a member of our Interplanetary Relations Division that is from a race without a bloodstream. We don’t want to risk spreading such an insidious disease throughout the galaxy until a vaccine can be successfully created and tested and/or the Vampires are completely exterminated.

My last chance to determine if Man has any potential to evolve past his current self-destructive tendency lies with his spiritual beliefs—but that is a task for tomorrow. I have spent several days poring over these mating manuals, and desperately need to purge the violent images before I can begin to continue this report with any degree of impartiality.

 

Day 13, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

I never thought I would be the one who could potentially deny a sentient race’s entrance into the Galactic Community, but it is becoming more and more likely.

Today I endeavored to discover this race’s spiritual underpinnings. I elected to study only the most popular and well-known beliefs to get the clearest picture of the race as a whole. What I discovered was nothing short of appalling.

Man is a race of death worshippers!

There can be no mistake about it. At least a third of Earth’s population, a staggering two billion beings, practices a religion that is based on the death of one man some two millennia ago. Although there appears to be some discrepancy between the texts of the various sects practicing this religion, the violent nature of the man’s death is beyond dispute. There are literally tens of thousands of graphic representations in museums around the world, depictions of how his manipulators and motor appendages were “nailed to the cross” preceding his death, a procedure whereby spiky objects were inserted through the flesh of the victim to forcibly affix him to an artificial structure.

Coming from an enlightened race that believes all sentient life is sacred (well, all that they know about, anyway), I was shocked to discover that instead of saving this man from such a violent death, his friends stood by and watched him die, then created a religion that postulates the theory that it is acceptable for an innocent being to die in order to atone for someone else’s crimes—someone he did not even know.

Followers of this religion wear replicas of the instrument of his death—the cross—around their necks, and more than half of them practice symbolic cannibalism in their designated buildings of worship, drinking his blood and eating his flesh (well, artificial substitutes for them) as a way of spiritually connecting to his violent murder. They even go so far as adorning their own burial sites with representations of this instrument, a clear statement that they admired a brutal and violent death, even if their own leave-taking was peaceful.

I would veto Earth’s membership right now, except for this one fact: the object of their worship seems to have been imbued with an inexplicable power to heal all pain and cure all suffering—true acts of kindness. If that is so, it may well be that he was an early mutation, that Man is still capable of evolving as a race, and this endless violence I have catalogued is merely an adolescent stage through which the race is passing. It is with that single hope that I will put off my decision for another day, while I scour the planet to see if there are any other heretofore overlooked forms of benevolent mutation.

 

Day 14, Year 403,772,109 of Project Earth

Yesterday I was appalled. I mean, here was a race, clearly in its adolescence, a race that hadn’t yet outgrown sadism, brutality, ignorance, even death worship.

But that was yesterday. Today I am terrified.

I began my search for the advanced members of the race, the possible mutations, those who demonstrated those qualities and abilities that would reassure the Council that Man indeed deserved to be invited into our vast community of civilized worlds.

Where does one look for such beings? In the most popular transmissions, of course. And so I did.

And yes, they exist.

Very few of them represent themselves as they truly are to the rest of their race. At first I thought it was because they are so advanced it would generate feelings of inferiority in those who interact with them. It turns out that the truth is much more diabolical.

For you see, Man’s mutations are not mental, not spiritual, but physical. They hide behind what they call “secret identities,” though the reasons for this are vague, since they are clearly impervious to permanent injury. Most of them wear colorful, form- fitting costumes. Many wear capes, which seem to hinder movement and I suspect serve the same purpose as brightly colored feathers in avian species: to attract the opposite sex for procreative activities.

They have not all evolved in the same ways. One has blinding (and I mean that literally) speed. One morphs into a muscular giant of a color not seen on any other member of the species. One stretches almost to infinity. One female is equipped with phenomenal strength and a set of artificial implements that are little short of magic. One climbs walls. One’s manipulatory appendages actually become sharp-edged metal weapons, his every injury healing instantaneously. And the most revered of them all has every physical asset of the others: invulnerability, unlimited strength, the ability to levitate at phenomenal speeds, and even the ability to see through solid objects.

And what do they do with these attributes?

They fight.

Whom do they fight?

Another class of costumed mutants, clearly for dominance in the power structures of Earth.

I have observed only a few such encounters in public transmissions, but the collateral damage must be almost unimaginable.

I am forced to the following conclusions:

1. There are physical mutations in the race of Man, and there is no reason to think they will not continue to increase in numbers, as clearly these particular mutations are survival traits.

2. Based on my observations, the fact of the mutation does not cause a diminution of aggressive behavior.

3. We in the Galactic Community have no defenses and no weaponry capable of dealing with the most powerful of these mutants.

4. Based on everything I have learned about Man during the past fourteen days, it would be foolhardy, indeed suicidal, to assume they will be content to be a small cog in the galactic machine, or that they will not look farther afield for additional conquests once they have pacified their enemies on their home world.

Therefore, it is my recommendation to the Galactic Coordinator that Earth be isolated for another hundred millennia. There must be no contact, no radio or microwave transmissions, no attempt at communication of any kind. I further recommend that the entire Sol system be placed off limits for that same duration.

It’s a pity. It seemed such a promising little planet when we discovered it four hundred million years ago. Perhaps if the Neanderthals had won that first great war. . . .