The Empress Yllib’tor lifted a delicate manipulator appendage. It gleamed. Its covering of hundreds of tiny precious gems, each held in place by a bonding chemical whose secret was now centuries old, had taken two skilled artisans over an hour to apply that morning. It would likewise require a master jeweler an additional hour, at the end of the day, with great care and reverence, remove each and every one, soon after sundown. The human across from her had little way to understand conceptions of beauty among the Eando, but her anti-geriatrics must have been effective in other areas, for three centuries was old even for her species, and yet there wasn’t even a hint of tremor in her motion as, with a practiced but not careless twist, she lifted the kettle and poured him a glass of tea.
(The Dutch East India Company would not have approved of this use of the term, seeing as how the ingredients in his cup contained nothing which resembled leaves of camellia sinensis. But in Humanity’s admittedly-limited experience, we’ve never yet found a sentient species which doesn’t have some sort of social ritual developed around the preparation and consumption of a bitter herb with stimulant properties. Generally speaking, sentients show that they are friendly by not attacking you, not bearing weapons, and asking irrelevant or uninformed questions about your general well-being; and they conduct polite negotiations during the bodily absorption of energy-producing materials. Humanity has a certain edge, in that those who smoke cigars or pipes have a built-in moment for extra thought during which they inhale tobacco. It is said, uncharitably, that humans prefer to be a little smarter and live shorter lives. It is noted, with some surprise, that humans do not see this as an insult.)
“So this Democracy of which you speak,” said the Empress, “I’ve read a number of your books about it. I find it a fascinating concept.”
“I am certain that the Imperial System is the finest possible system on this planet,” said the diplomat, diplomatically. “I have a complicated mission. I am tasked with helping bring, er, knowledge of the democratic process to planets which have not previously experienced it.”
“You mean, all of them?” asked the Empress.
The Ambassador blanched. Ordinarily, a poker face is of some utility to an attaché, but there was no point, in this case. The situation was hardly a secret.
“It is true we were expecting to see more species in the Galaxy believing in, er, ah…”
“Freedom? Happiness? The unique benefits one can receive only from the particular form of governance most preferred by one’s own species?” The Empress made one of those tooth-motions which, to the best of the Ambassador’s knowledge, implied something like a smile, although apparently most other mammalian life-forms experienced the same sensation on seeing it: You are small and made of meat, and this thing is large and ate your kind once; RUN!
It was true that humans expected that many other species would have tried Democracy—or at least, something they could recognize—and in that assumption, homo sapiens was badly, badly wrong. More wrong than it could have conceived. In addition to serving passable stimulant-beverages, The Empress represented one of relatively few forms of government which they could understand.
“Rule by the Roundest”, for example, made no sense unless you lived on an extremely high-density, high-gravity planet, at which point, to human eyes, it still made no sense. “Government by the Ungovernable” suggested that if you took those misfits who most despised the idea of ruling, and made them rulers, you’d get better results than having a professional class of politician. It didn’t seem to run poorly, particularly since, 500 years ago, that species had introduced a rule prohibiting professional dueling with the confines of the Halls of Power.
There were a number of unexpected discoveries during the Era of Extraterrestrial Exploration. The number of aliens who lived on planets where humans could (with appropriate temporary lung and internal organ modifications) breathe and eat and otherwise co-exist with local biology? That was surprisingly large. The number who were unwarlike (or, at least, not utterly bellicose) and willing to speak with us? Another surprise.
The number who wanted the manifold benefits of democracy? Approximately none.
The Empress smiled again; the Ambassador really wished she’d stop.
“I understand you are returning to your adorable little planet soon.”
The Ambassador nodded. “I’m to give them all a full report. They want to know what progress we’ve made.” “And you say that your system of government is uniquely beneficial?”
The Ambassador’s nod was more eager now. “Yes! Government for the people, by the people! It’s what we all want!” “So all of the people decide on everything?”
“Technically, all the people decide to empower some of the people, who then are empowered to make major changes in what we do and how we use our manifold resources.”
“And the governed enjoy this?”
“They have more say under this government than under some sort of tyranny!” The Empress smiled that smile again, and some part of the back of his head tried to count the teeth. This was a serious mistake.
“I am truly fascinated. Your leadership is wise and makes excellent decisions?”
“Well, they’re not perfect, but they respect the will of the governed.”
“How important that is!” the Empress replied, without any apparent sarcasm. “One can only have so many soldiers. And there are so many who might covet a throne, were it poorly used. For myself, when questioned, I might note that I answer to the nobles, who answer to the army, who answer to those who work the land and the industries.”
“But serfdom is…is…no-one enjoys being a serf, is the problem, your Highness.”
The Empress smiled. “Serfs, if I understand your history, do not own that for which they work. Our creators own what we make, subject to Imperial tax and Imperial whim.”
“With respect, Imperial whim could cover quite a lot of potential hardships for those subject to it.” “…which is why some of our Emperors have not lasted very long.”
The Ambassador, sensing a battle with no winner, said tactfully, “I thank you for allowing us to distribute our materials among your people.”
“Oh, really, the amount of effort necessary to stop the curious from finding new sources of humor is quite disproportionate to the benefit of attempting to shield them from knowledge. They simply go around and find the most inconvenient knowledge. Starving people will eat your caviar; well-fed people realize that caviar tastes terrible, and we only consume it for the sake of form.”
(The term she used wasn’t literally ‘caviar’, but humans had decided to translate it as such, for the sake of not thinking too hard about what she was really saying.)
The Ambassador nodded. “I am certain that this is true,” he said, politely. With an experienced motion of his own, he consumed the last of his tea—it was bitter, so bitter—and made the appropriate diplomatic noises, which took a bit of time, preparatory to his leave-taking.
Finally, the Empress stopped him. “My friend, before you go, it is our custom to grant some gifts. Please—don’t reciprocate; should we ever visit you and yours, simply gift us in return.”
The Ambassador nodded; he’d known this protocol, of course, but he hadn’t planned to bring it up.
“First, for you, our native workers have studied the customs of your planet, and we have created for you, personally, a garment.”
The Ambassador prepared to be impressed by it—no matter what it might be.
It turned out to be a t-shirt—the most expensive t-shirt in the Universe, most likely, seeing as how few other races wore the things, and this one was made from the ‘silk’ of Imperial spinner-arachnids, bred ten thousand generations for the mellifluous softness of their thread.. It said, in English, “I visited the Monster Planet, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”
He blinked. The Empress said, “I hope we properly understood the appropriate ceremonial wording.” He glanced over at her—those teeth, those teeth. If she was joking, he couldn’t tell.
“I shall treasure it forever, Empress.”
“And now, some of our native tea, that you may sip it always and think of us.”
A servant wheeled out a little wagon, on which there was a large, dense hunk of vegetable matter. The Ambassador tried not to wince. “Thank you again, O Empress Divine.”
“And finally, a little something for your very, very enlightened rulers.”
This time, the wagon was much larger—and flanked by armed guards.
Form often, though not always, follows function. This looked very, very much like a primitive missile. “The fins are purely decorative; we heard they were traditional.”
“The Ambassador stared at the lethal-looking object. “What is it?”
“It’s a bomb, of course. Like most civilized societies, we pride ourselves on our ability to defend ourselves. And we believe that our fellow rulers should have similar powers. This works with a certain levitation technology—you might or might not figure that part out, but if not, you could put it, or any duplicates you make, into a…is ‘suitcase’ the word I seek?…‘briefcase!’ You could put it in a briefcase, and it will vaporize, oh, approximately, a large city.”
The Ambassador had once been envoy to a species whose eyes were literally on stalks, as if they’d been drawn by some over-enthusiastic fan of early scifi films. He was quite sure that their eyes had never popped so far from their heads as his did now.
“Why…what…why would you give this to us?”
“My dear colleague, we are both of civilized species, are we not? Think of all the technology embodied in a such a complex weapon of vast destruction. It’s the single most compact item we could offer you if we wanted to bequeath to you some of our technologies.”
“But…the destructive potential…a city?”
“Or two, yes. Maybe three. With some aftershocks.”
“That…we…”
“You will take it to your leaders, won’t you? Otherwise, my species—my whole race, I fear—would be most mortally offended, and that wouldn’t be desirable in the slightest.”
“I…”
“After all, we are fascinated by this ‘democracy’ of yours, and its ability to make the wisest and most sensible choices. You’d like to bring it to our people; well, certainly, if that’s what they desire. Who are we of the Empire to stand in your way?
I mean, for us, something like this, why…if we didn’t have numerous checks and balances in place, it could wreak havoc. But your wise rule by the people, that will surely be proof against any possible misuse of this (if I might be so bold as to say) explosive treasure trove of knowledge, eh? Please. Bring it to your knowledgeable leaders, that they might, in their astute judiciousness, put it to best use.”
The Ambassador struggled for words; the aliens, meanwhile, were already loading it onto the ship. “You shall be missed,” the Empress said. “Do stay in touch, won’t you?”
The Ambassador, quiet now, gave a slow, stiff nod, and then walked, like a man condemned, towards the disquieting bulk of his ship, whose engines would take it, all too rapidly, back to Earth.
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[I write things. You can find some of them on Amazon.]
