Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General
Date [standardized human time]: July 21, 2160
Virnt paced on the sidewalk as we approached Kuemper’s convoy, lifting a segmented leg to wave farewell. He appeared to be on a holopad call, so I returned the gesture without saying a word. The Tilfish scientist was under a lot of scrutiny, after his leadership of the memory transcript project led to reviving me. There was additional pressure to extend the uploading capabilities beyond humans, though neuroscience from an Earth-based company was most advanced with our own kind. Legislators were keen to get involved, despite the fact that Austrian authorities and the UN had been apprised ahead of time. I intended to weigh in on that when the Sapient Coalition called, but securing aid for the war was a higher priority. Even synthetic bodies couldn't survive antimatter bombs; this endangered every being in our space.
“As I was saying, there’s been a vast uptick in the number of people participating in memory transcripts, ever since we announced Meier’s success. It’s insurance against death!” Virnt gushed to the person on the other end of the phone. “More machines are getting installed…some in public places. Everyone will be able to be reborn after death! It needs to be in every hospital, so we can scan anyone who passes through the doors or dies on the operating table.”
I turned to face Kuemper, as she slid into the back of the vehicle. “Is that what you’d want, if something happened to you now?”
“Yes. My specific consciousness would still end, granted, but a part of me would live on and get to see the future,” she answered. “I had a scan a few years ago. I plan to update my memories every so often, so they can restore me as I was.”
The Tilfish continued jabbering into the line. “Elias has been quite successful. He is truly immortal so long as our servers and data survive! If something happens, we have his program exactly as it was—it can be restored. I know he’s had his struggles, but I’m planning to swap out his eyes this week. It’ll be no different than surgery; go to sleep, wake up with modifications.”
I hesitated to close the car door. “What are you doing to my eyes?!”
“You wanted eyelids, so I’m going to give them to you. I’ll tell you later! Anyhow, as I was saying, we’re working to improve the sensory suites. Taste and smell are tricky. Proprioception, equilibrium, and motion detection are easier to fine-tune; they’re a bit rudimentary now. Humans are complicated and have a thousand chain reactions to different environments. I’d like Elias to test out things like…swimming underwater, standing on one leg, or typing with his eyes closed once we give him eyelids.”
I’m learning new fears. I don’t want to hear any more of this conversation.
“Start the car,” I grumbled, shutting the door. “Please. Covering my ears doesn’t work that well, and he’s talking pretty loud.”
Virnt’s mandibles parted with delight, likely because he’d been asked something about human senses. “Balance comes from inner ear fluid, sloshing around; that’s not so easy to replicate, so we’re more applying the predicted stimuli that would occur if that fluid was there! However, you also rely on your eyes and body awareness. Humans are remarkable—”
The vehicle started off down the road, leaving the overexcited Tilfish behind. The car ride was a perfect showcase of just why my three senses needed fine-tuning; the sensation that I wasn’t breathing escalated to levels of panic, while my “suffocating” body experienced waves of nausea. I needed to suck down oxygen to steady myself, to feel any of the input from my metal form as genuine. My limbs shook involuntarily, and I suddenly wished I walked down to Embassy Row, like I had during my visits to the Ulven and Racads. It hadn’t been as bad in a spaceship with inertial dampeners, where I’d had minimal view of my surroundings. Then again, I’d been curled up in a ball for that trip.
Kuemper’s eyebrows knitted together, before she placed a palm atop my hand to ground me. “After Virnt announced all that to the world, I think I can figure out what’s going on. Cars are no good?”
I shook my head, hating that I could feel sick to my non-existent stomach; it was phantom pain. The Secretary-General brought the car to a halt while I hugged the door, face pressed up to the window. The grating sensation that I was holding my breath was always present, but now, it felt like I was swallowing water by the bucketful. How could a car ride have sent my programming on such a cascade? The smallest, mundane experiences were now something I had to worry would set off my brain, and put me into a full state of panic from wrong signals. I wanted to apologize to Kuemper for creating such a scene, and pulling myself together for a few minutes.
Virnt, I know you’re reading this. Add this to your bug fix list…pun intended.
There’d been zero ways to cope or find relief, in the thick of it. The general sensation of unwellness hung over me, along with a desperate desire to inhale through my nose. I found the strength to unhook the door—I had to get out of this car, or it would be my second coffin. Perhaps I could walk off the episode in the punishing July heat. Back when I was a human, diplomatic attire was punishing in these months, with sweat drenching me from head to toe. Looking down at my shoes, I could see the pavement shimmering as it reflected the scalding sun. Nobody without a robotic body should be out in this weather, and I’d meet Kuemper there. However, her car merely rolled alongside me, matching my pace.
“Go on without me,” I offered. “I’m sorry. I know the way to Embassy Row; I’ll catch up.”
Kuemper raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “You don’t know which one is the Leshee embassy, and there are 150-plus of them. I want to keep an eye on you anyway.”
“Ok. I’ll pick it up…it’s not like I can get tired. Hell, I won’t be out of breath if we talk while I run.”
“You’ve never been in better shape. The best persistence predator this planet has ever seen.”
“You have a good point. Even death couldn’t stop me.”
I started off at a light jog, not trusting my limbs not to do something zany. Gray-haired Elias hadn’t been a marathon runner—a contest I imagined our alien neighbors didn’t enjoy watching—but my present form could sprint without ceasing. There was no burning from lactic acid within muscles, only legs complying with the demands they were given. There were a multitude of stares and people recording, as they realized who I was; I supposed tearing down the streets of Vienna in July in a full suit-and-tie attracted attention. I found myself grinning at the absurdity. My pupils scanned to ensure I didn’t run into anyone, not wholly trusting my depth perception.
The amusement died down as we neared the diplomatic entrance to Embassy Row, and I spotted a memorial park situated just shy of it. My legs slowed just long enough to read the entrance plaque, head turning to face it. It had a list of names of all humans who died outside of Earth during the Federation War, with several walls lined up within a cobblestone circle. That wasn’t what had caught my notice out of my periphery. It was the bronze statue that I’d registered, one with a face that I couldn't help but recognize. A cold feeling stirred within, gazing at a spitting replica of Elias Meier. They built…statues here to remember me.
How did I even feel about that? My name was on the wall right alongside thousands of others, who hadn’t gotten any second chance. I picked up the pace with new urgency, all too eager to get away from my likeness. Maybe this new body was just a thinking statue to Elias, the pacifist icon of the UN. There was no time to fall back into such thoughts, since I didn’t want to cause our tardiness to the meeting. We were practically at the embassies, and from there, I could follow the Secretary-General’s car to the Leshee’s turf. Kuemper’s motorcade bypassed the stringent security, with the checkpoint gates opened ahead of our arrival.
I’d zoned out as we wove to a domed building, where iridescent, frog-like beings waited for us. A gray blur appeared in my periphery, swooping down toward me; that proved enough to jolt me back to the present. Korajan had landed right next to us from the sky, gliding alongside me for a split second. Though I was startled at first, I managed to recover without flinching. The Secretary-General’s motorcade proceeded ahead of me to the reception area, where Leshee staff waited to greet us. I walked a few paces behind with the Duerten ambassador, taking on a calm amble and straightening myself up. The avian parted his beak, eyes curious.
“You’re going to ask for us to get you an audience in front of the Shield,” Korajan stated as a fact. “That’s what my UN contacts seemed to imply.”
I nodded. “We were hoping you’d help us.”
“No human has ever been allowed to visit during Shield meetings, Elias. Many feel that would be the beginning of us merging with the SC, rather than keeping an autonomous union. If I might be so frank, certain parties maintain communications with Earth because they see it as a necessity.”
“In what way? In case you need our assistance?”
“No, I’m afraid it’s rather impolite. You’re the dominant power in our galactic neck of the woods, and they don’t want to war with you. They’d rather interact with the UN on some level, since it beats the perceived alternative. There would be great animosity toward an ‘intrusion’ in our halls.”
I clasped my hands behind my back. “What do you think, Korajan? Why are you telling me this?”
“I think you have proof now that the Sapient Coalition is threatened, and you believe you could rally us to your cause. My advice is not to look too far outside the Duerten Forum or the Leshee Junta. I do have great respect for humans, and I know that treatment hurts you more than you let on.”
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“I’ve faced worse. I’m curious, Korajan, how you became an ambassador on Earth. Did you always have such favorable views of humans?”
“No,” the Duerten admitted. “I’ve seen the patterns in your social dynamics and customs over time. Originally, I was half-hoping the worst commentary about you was true. A part of me wished you would rip me to shreds or lose control while I was alone on your world. I wanted a human to swallow me whole before my grief did.”
“I’m so unspeakably sorry. It’s my sincere hope that your mental state has changed for the better.”
“It most certainly has. Honestly, what helped me most was visiting a live music bar, and listening to songs a local band wrote about Earth’s bombing. It reminded me of…a lot of things. They started to recognize me, and I understood their pain so intrinsically, Elias. I started playing the tambourine just so I could join their jam sessions. Even learned enough English to songwrite a little with them.”
“It’s wonderful that you found the right people, Korajan. If you ever feel inclined to share your songs with me, I’d be honored.”
“Perhaps I will. It might be unbecoming of an ambassador, but I’m offering all of this in the spirit of friendship. I’ll still help you, whatever you decide. Just be aware of what you’re getting into.”
The two of us fell in alongside Kuemper, who was exchanging pleasantries with Leshee Ambassador Yali. The amphibian looked a bit uncomfortable by my presence, which I found understandable; it wasn’t discrimination over my species, but my unique circumstances. I wondered about how long I’d be the sole revived brain scan. It was unfortunate to have nobody to talk to that was going through the same thing, as was often the therapeutic practice for other traumatic events. Then again, I didn’t want to bring anyone else back to this reality until Virnt had ironed out the flaws. My self-awareness heightened as I saw a Terran metal detector in the entrance, and hung back—knowing full well I’d trip it.
“Maybe I should stay here,” I whispered to Kuemper. “Are you okay with Virnt reading…sensitive state discussions? He has access to everything I see.”
The Secretary-General snorted. “That Tilfish has our top clearance level. He has to, with the important figures he’s done memory scans on. Not to mention he’s worked with the military and Project Chronicle.”
“Right. Give me a moment to, ah, collect my bearings.”
Korajan hopped through the detector, beckoning to me. “Elias is going to set off the security alarms, Ambassador Yali. You know, I shudder to think that resurrected Duerten might not be able to fly. I mean, we need light bones, and metal is quite the opposite.”
“What happens if a metal predator goes on a rampage? He’s unkillable,” Yali whispered to the Duerten, soft gums showing in her mouth.
I don’t think the Leshee meant for me to hear that, but I suppose the exterminators wouldn’t have much impact on me.
Fumbling for a way to reassure the amphibian, I strolled through the checkpoint, setting off a series of alarms. “It doesn’t seem a pleasant way to start a diplomatic meeting, weighing whether we can kill each other. I have always been an advocate of peace, and spent my tenure avoiding unnecessary bloodshed. We’re here in the hopes of banding together against a novel threat.”
“The United Nations recognizes how vital the Leshee are to the Shield. We hope to not only offer a warning, but to find a path forward that keeps civilians out of harm’s way,” Kuemper chimed in.
Yali hopped toward a seating area, eyes filled with anxiety. “I’ll hear what you have to say, but I would appreciate if we could keep this brief. I’m not accustomed to this type of human, Madam Secretary-General.”
“I’d be happy to recuse myself if it’d put your mind at ease,” I responded. “Believe me, Ambassador, I’m not used to this type of human either, yet I have to live in this body. Perhaps I belong on the sidelines, though I assure you, my only intent was to gather allies. Until I stay dead, I’ll never stop trying to find new friends for humanity, and achieve the harmonious future I’ve always dreamed of.”
“The Leshee are your friends, Mr. Elias Meier. We have helped you before in the hopes that you’d show up, if we ever needed it. However, my government is beginning to feel this is a bit one-sided. You seek aid often, without anything given in return.”
“If you seek monetary or material recompense, we can arrange that,” Kuemper stated. “However, we always considered our relations to be a mutual alliance.”
Korajan parted his beak. “The Duerten will not keep score, as we are forever in debt to Earth and her people. Humanity saved Kalqua, Yali, and they’d help you. Consider it fortunate your planet was not subjected to an orbital barrage.”
Sympathy glistened in the Leshee’s eyes. “We would never wish such a thing upon ourselves. My words are merely reflecting the uneven nature of our present arrangement, should the humans wish to call on us for a favor again.”
“Forgive me, but have you ever asked anything of us?” I chimed in. “If the roles were reversed, and you came to us for ten favors in a row, we wouldn’t be settling a ledger. We would extend a helping hand out of our goodwill and generosity. That is the definition of a friend: someone who is there no matter what, when you need them most.”
Kuemper cleared her throat. “We aren’t here for ourselves, and even the times we have been, it’s to save lives. We care for our citizens, and will always step in to resolve issues outside of Earth. I find it unfortunate that humans in Shield space are imperiled to this day, though we are grateful for any and all assistance the Leshee have given.”
“A question, if you’ll humor a ‘metal predator.’ For all the talk of our inherent violence and rampages, how many times have you needed to approach us regarding any of your people on Earth?”
“Once,” Yali replied, lowering her head. “There’d been a train accident, it turned out. Human rescue workers dug a little girl out of the rubble, resuscitated her twice…refusing to give up on saving her. The surgeons operated on her for hours, showing no appetite for her insides or the blood aromas swirling around them—only deep-rooted concern.”
“Perhaps such a story could buy us a bit more goodwill, my friend. It’s proof that we give to anyone in need, and seek nothing for it.”
Korajan fluttered his wings. “I can attest to their kindness. I’ve witnessed it. Their involvement in this disaster started to help the Sivkits, a party outside their organization, who’d turned away from us all for decades. Humanity heeded the call regardless.”
“Now, they’ve entered our space. Three massive drone contingents, on separate vectors, were detected on a stealthy route into the heart of our territory,” Erin Kuemper added. “We don’t know their destination, but we suspect Nishtal is a likely target. Help us protect the homeworld we just now rebuilt. The Shield knows what an arduous process that was.”
I nodded my head, turning my eyes toward the friendly Duerten. “I’ve absolutely heard what Korajan expressed, about risking your own assets on account of the Sapient Coalition. That takes tremendous nobility and courage. However, even the slightest contributions could make a difference. Count the fingers I have on a hand—that’s all the ships it would’ve taken to stop one bomber that hit Kalqua or Earth. That’s all it takes to save millions of lives.”
“When you put it like that…I’ll see if we can spare a small number. Every ship does make a difference,” the avian ambassador murmured.
There was a brief spell of hesitation, as the Leshee ambassador pondered our words. Her species and ours shared the common link of being judged for biological requirements, as their tadpoles required water to survive. Since the Kolshians viewed that as a vector for disease, the amphibians were ostracized and considered unclean. They’d grown their influence as the Shield’s numbers grew, though they still clung to old Federation rhetoric—like most species in their organization. I hoped that they could put aside the dogma long enough to act for the common good.
“While the Krakotl have become dietarily contemptible…like many Coalition members, after being around you…I will recommend that my government intercedes on Nishtal’s behalf,” Yali decided. “Now if that’s all…”
“It’s not.”
The words tumbled from my mouth, reaching a snap decision after recalling my conversation with Korajan. I shifted my eyes back and forth between the Duerten and the Secretary-General, searching for approval. My old friend—a former SETI scientist having reached the top echelons of the UN—gave me a nod. While it would make a fractional difference to acquire any manner of aid, we couldn’t set our aim that low. My goal heading into this was to knock on every door I could, and Korajan’s warning only convinced me that galactic change was still a necessity. The Shield fearing us wasn’t something that we wanted; they weren’t our enemies, and it was high time their members realized that fully.
If Noah had risked his literal head with a hostile audience, it fell on my shoulders to do the same. I was a diplomat that wasn’t in physical jeopardy, and like Virnt gushed on his call, my “program” could be restored in the worst case scenario. Someone had to start down the path of warming the Shield, as an entity, toward our cause.
“I would like to visit the Shield,” I stated with confidence. “I know the Leshee have the sway to arrange such a meeting. I’m well aware that you haven’t invited a human within your halls, since your formation. However, if you invite me, that will remain true. Any metal detector can tell you I’m not human.”
Yali seemed dumbfounded. “Then what are you?”
“I asked that same question when I woke in a lab, Ambassador. You know that I’m something beyond predator or prey…that we’re all moving toward something far outside the animal kingdom. Instead of worrying whether I’m unkillable, the Shield should be asking whether you could be too. You don’t want a golden age of progress to pass you by. You don’t want it not to come about at all because a war took us down.”
“Opening your doors could strengthen technological trade between our forums,” Kuemper tacked on. “If we can work together during wartime, there’s no reason we can’t better each other outside of it.”
“Is that why Elias came? You’re dangling your new discovery in front of us?” the Leshee ambassador asked. “I don’t see what we have to gain, aside from this elusive promise, by bringing you into our midst. I don’t see what you have to gain.”
I smiled, nostalgia flickering in my mind. “Good things happen when humanity reaches out. We entered a Federation meeting, and convinced dozens to abide our existence; we owe our survival to that. There was also a tiny portion that chose to befriend us because of our plea. I wish to speak a few words, and if one party warms to us for it, I’ll consider it worthwhile. We only ever reached out to the stars in search of friends, Ambassadors.”
“I searched tirelessly in the hopes that we weren’t alone,” Kuemper agreed. “We want to share the universe with others. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I find that to be a beautiful notion,” Korajan interjected. “There have been a vast many positives that came from humanity’s survival and networking. We only know who we truly are because of them. The Leshee aren’t judged by your peers for your aquatic aptitudes, either.”
I gave the Duerten a nod of gratitude. “We have never once tried to force you to merge with us, or engage against your wishes. The Shield exists as a free entity today because our ambassador spoke at a meeting for a few minutes, twenty-four years ago. What could it hurt to give us the same opportunity today, and see what might come of it?”
After another lengthy pause, one where the tension gnawed at my mind, Yali heaved a flustered sigh. “Very well. I’ll approach my superiors about this, and tell them what you’ve said. Our embassy will be in contact if they grant you an audience. Please, leave now…before I change my mind.”
“Thank you. I’m deeply appreciative that you’ve heard our case, and have been receptive to our words. We won’t trouble you any longer.”
“Have a pleasant rest of your afternoon, Ambassador Yali,” Kuemper said, rising to her feet. “These will be historic steps toward a bright, prosperous future. I look forward to improving the dialogues between our species. My thanks as well to Ambassador Korajan for his supportive presence.”
The Duerten squawked in amusement. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth. It’s a simple gesture.”
“I’ve always liked simple gestures.”
I felt a bit less off-putting and out of place upon our departure. With a solid chance at receiving an invitation to the Shield’s place of governance, I thought that the Leshee meeting had been a sweeping success. Flexing my diplomatic muscles paid dividends today, suggesting cyborg Meier still had enough charisma to stay in the game. In the spirit of optimism, it was time to plan just how I’d tackle my visit to the Shield.