Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Scientist
Date [standardized human time]: March 13, 2160
When General Naltor relayed the news of our visitors to the FAI scientists, their indignance at being held hostage in their workplace evaporated—just as mine had once I was briefed in the convoy. The press had been alerted as well, as the Lassian government prepared an official livestream alongside several broadcasts. How would the aliens respond to a series of questions, if we allowed reporters to corner them? The aliens appeared to want to address the media, though they might not be prepared for provocative queries. Dustin, Nulia, and Haliska didn’t seem unwilling to answer our inquiries, but there was such a thing as too much all at once.
I whispered for Naltor to let the aliens address the populace, before allowing them to initiate a question-and-answer question only if they wanted to; the journalists needed to be advised to proceed with caution. Our visitors were friendly, as far as I could tell, but the last thing we wanted was to scare them off. It was apparent there were some abscesses in their past that they were slow to divulge. It had been my mission to figure out what we hadn’t been told, but I found myself easily distracted by the human’s banter. Dustin regaled us with stories from his society, and images from across the galaxy: all analysis of their food policies evaporated from my mind.
“So that great signal—the mystery frequency that kept showing up, and some people thought it was aliens—that we spent years researching? Hundreds of scientific papers written on it. What we thought were alien signals, were actually microwaves. Like I was saying, we heat our meals. The data points were microwaves from impatient folks forcibly opening the damn oven before it was done,” Dustin chuckled.
Naltor’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “How many years were spent researching this?”
“Seventeen, if I remember. Seventeen years before someone goes: hm, wait a second, this frequency is one that’s really familiar! All because a multitude of people don’t follow instructions, and the oven leak was right by the signal receiver.”
“I would be so frustrated if FAI had spent years analyzing a signal that was from within our lab,” I groaned. “I guess it’s strange to have spent so much time finding ways to analyze the stars, and have first contact just…fall into our beaks.”
“It’s happened to many of us,” Nulia remarked. “Gojids knew about aliens since before I was born—unlike Dustin’s species. Dustin remembers when his kind first found aliens. Then humans…their soldiers landed on my planet. Our entire village panicked, and my mother…abandoned me. A human soldier came and saved me: raised me as his own.”
Haliska lashed her conical tail. “When you talk like that, you make humanity sound like the aggressors. We all know they didn’t want that. I didn’t think we were spelling out the details of the war here and now.”
“The Bissems already know that there was a conflict, and that terrible things happened. I don’t see the point of sugarcoating it, especially when it’s shaped all of our pasts. It’s difficult to explain what Gojid culture was like, before the humans rebuilt the cradle’s bombed-out husk, and Project Chronicle…wrote us a guidemap.”
“Bombed-out husk? You said earlier you lived on ‘Skalga’ since you were a child.” General Naltor’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. “Are you telling me that’s because your planet was destroyed in this conflict too?! The humans were fighting you…and they did this?”
“The humans fought with decency, as decent as a war can be, and did everything in their power to avoid civilian casualties. There’s many videos of their sacrifice and valor, protecting innocent lives like mine. The same species that destroyed the Thafki homeworld centuries ago swooped in, while the Terrans—sorry, alternative name for humans—were occupying our planet. Which truth be told, they only did because our generals wanted to wipe them out.”
“What the fuck? This history gets more and more fucked up, the more I hear. Do enlighten me on what motivated your species to wish humans extinct, at what sounds like their first contact. Would you ever get the same idea about us?”
“No. That government is long gone. We’re allies with the humans nowadays, and committed to peaceful exploration of the galaxy alongside them.”
“You skipped my first question. What was the reason you wished for the humans’ extinction?”
Dustin slumped his shoulders. “I…was hoping to touch on happier topics, General Naltor. Let’s just say for now that it was hatred. It’s been coloring every culture we’ve come across, and it’s been a painstaking journey to fix it. As I said, we’ll tell you the…tragedy of our galactic introduction, at some point. I just see cameras outside, and I don’t want our first words to billions of frightened Bissems to be about a war of extinction that happened twenty years ago.”
“The real question isn’t whether you’re ready for us, here on Ivrana. It’s whether we’re ready for you,” Haliska admitted. “Whether we can…avoid making the mistakes of our predecessor organization. Maybe we can pen a new chapter of our history, together.”
“I need to know what is going on,” Naltor fired back. “If there is a threat to Bissems—”
Nulia fiddled with her claws. “We’re not a threat. We’re taking every precaution to avoid causing you inadvertent harm, to culture or to safety. The threat to…divergent societies was averted when the humans exposed centuries of lies and tyranny through their arrival.”
Centuries? I inhaled in slow fashion, trying to process their words. “I’m beginning to suspect I have underestimated just how troubled the galaxy’s history was.”
“You have no idea. Let’s just say your first contact would be quite different, without us,” Dustin sighed. “May I ask for us to enjoy the feast, through a cultural exchange: one with more levity than the current topic? I meant what I said about not wanting to get into this history in depth, yet it keeps coming up. I’m quite excited to meet the FAI scientists, and to speak to the public.”
“I’m nervous,” Haliska grumbled. “Very nervous.”
My flippers rested by the door, observing the crowd of cameras waiting for us. “This is a celebration of the aliens’ arrival. I agree that we should focus on what they are now, and not what they were in recent years…as they’ve forgiven our own contention here. I’m eager for every citizen of every nation to hear their words.”
“As are we. Our team only learned simplified Vrit, but that won’t be a problem for you once we pass along our translators.” Nulia tapped a spot right underneath her tiny ear, suggesting she had some subdermal implant. “May we exit the vehicle?”
“Of course you may. There’s a podium with a microphone where you can address the watching world, before the feast begins,” the Selmer general sighed.
The arctic-subspecies Bissem popped open the door handle, assisting me into the street with a flipper. Gathered FAI scientists looked like children who’d caught their first fish, eager to steal a glimpse of the alien visitors. Military personnel were corralling the media, as well as public spectators who’d torn down the sideswim at the news. PSAs were being broadcasted, warning anyone in the vicinity that their safety could not be guaranteed, and that this was an emergent situation. There was awe, excitement, curiosity, and fear commingling in the crowd. This was the moment Ivrana would be introduced to a galactic community, and we’d be asked to rise to the occasion.
Every Bissem will see how much work and effort the aliens have put into learning about us, and how similar they are to us. For a moment, when the human was talking about those microwave signals, it felt so normal.
Dustin bobbed his head at each of his colleagues, before leading the way out into the open. There was a wave of gasps, from Bissems who hadn’t envisioned an alien looking anything like him: the patchy fur definitely caught them off-guard. The shocked exclamations intensified once the two other visitors emerged with submissive postures. It was rare to see reporters tongue-tied; that effect didn’t last long, though they seemed more subdued and taken aback than usual. The human raised a delicate hand, his palm facing the cameras, in a gesture that was likely some sort of acknowledgment.
General Naltor helped usher the aliens toward the podium, though he seemed a bit leery of outright touching them; that might make it all real. The Selmer shushed the reporters’ questions, and after seeing that the Terran intended to deliver a speech, they obeyed for once. Apart from a few shouts of “Hello!” and “Welcome!” from spectators that were likely science fiction aficionados, everyone was willing to wait in silence. I noticed several FAI colleagues shooting greedy glances at me, wishing they could transfer what I already knew into their minds. Our scientists looked more ready to strap the visitors to a chair and interrogate them than the reporters.
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“Wow. Hey there. I’m humbled and honored to be speaking with you: to be here on your beautiful planet! Please, do not fear us.” Dustin waited a moment as a new round of gasps took off; none were more surprised than my fellow scientists, at his perfect Vrit. “I know what you’re all thinking. Really, I do! It was only twenty-three years ago that I sat in an orphanage on my homeworld, listening as our planet’s chief diplomat told all ten billion of us we’d met aliens. Now, I’m here, as that mystical being a sea of cameras are pointing toward, and I know that this feels like a pivotal moment in your history.”
I’d love to hear Dustin describe more of what first contact felt like for humanity. I want to know if his people shared any of those transcendent emotions and wild thoughts that ran through my head today.
“I’m here to tell you that all of this will become a lot easier to process, sooner than you think. Before you know it, Bissems might be up there helping a new generation: some child who listened to my words and felt compelled to explore the stars. It’s a beautiful cycle. I’m also here to tell you that none of us are mystical at all. We’re a handful of species that happened upon warp engines, and formed an organization that ensures cooperation between eighty-two diverse civilizations. We’re called the Sapient Coalition. We are devoted to science, to individual rights, and to peace.”
Warp engines. That answers my question about their mode of traversing those vast distances. Imagine what that technology could do for the Lassmin Space Program!
“I also know that you’re likely feeling self-conscious about how we might judge you for your worst moments. We felt the same: if I stood here and described all of the blunders, the mistakes, the divisiveness or just the plain stupidity of my people’s history, I’d be here for several lifetimes. We fervently believe in your species, and that you share our fundamental drive to explore this universe that we inhabit for only a fleeting time. That you can join us in celebrating new life and new cultures!”
I heard from Dustin earlier that his people were divided before first contact. As much as I wished they’d be perfect, there is something to be said for their flaws: that they haven’t forgotten their past.
“We recognize our immense responsibility, introducing you to new technology. Great minds scattered across many worlds have made fantastic discoveries and creations that can save and better Bissem lives. I’m talking about eliminating the language barriers on Ivrana that hamper communication. I’m talking about curing diseases, advanced prosthetics, genetic knowledge, and life extension technology. Spaceships that can bring you to nearby stars! We want you to share our blessings.”
Several cheers rose up from the crowd, as watching Bissems seemed delighted by the possibilities that the human had laid out. There was so much needless death and suffering that the aliens’ advanced science could conquer; there was a great deal of knowledge the numerous civilizations in the Sapient Coalition must’ve acquired. This altruistic rhetoric should make it evident that they intended to better our society: not to eradicate it like Bissem colonizers on Nelmin, or whatever had been done to the Thafki and the Gojids. If we were the first ones the SC had reached out to as an organization, I wanted to tell them they were doing well. I wanted to play a part in helping them learn, and create something better.
“But we must pass these marvelous things along with care. We wish to avoid their misuse, or for them to be twisted into harmful applications. We don’t favoritize any faction. The last thing we want is to aid death and division, when we’ve become so very fond of all of the cultures…the unique flames of life lit within billions of Bissem souls. We wish for you to retain that beautiful uniqueness, by maintaining your ways and customs. We hope you’ll challenge us with new ways of thinking, and that you’ll one day join our cause, as fellow beings linked by the strange experience of sapience. Thank you.”
Nulia gave Dustin a congratulatory pat on the back, and his binocular eyes swelled with water from deep emotions. It seemed as though the human was moved by the prospect of Bissems hearing his words, and joining humanity’s pacifist cause. The reporters launched into a vigorous set of questions, asking for the Terran to expand on his points—and on other things he hadn’t covered, such as how the SC found Ivrana. Haliska offered a brief comment that they’d take interviews at a later date, while Nulia tacked on that they planned to share their culture and history through data releases. All of their knowledge, dispersed through the internet: to be used by all Bissems for the greater good!
It was almost too good to be true, yet I didn’t doubt their intentions for a second. Despite the seedy past I’d heard about, I found myself swept up in this new era of idealism; what Dustin outlined had been my life’s dream as well. Even if it wasn’t perfect, or the transcendent society my heart desired, I still yearned to learn everything about it. I was glad that an official livestream would be recording the feast that took place inside. The FAI scientists permitted to dine with guests should offer up interesting questions. The public might see the beginning of those answers outlined during our communion.
Dustin turned to face me, a glimmer in his eyes. “Dr. Tassi, one of the data points humanity asked to share is called the Golden Record. We attached it to the first probe that left our solar system: much like Lassmin’s space program did. A collection of our culture and our goodwill. We have so much more to share, but as the galaxy’s sentimental people, we’d love for that to be the first thing you see of us.”
“That sounds delightful! We attached something similar to one of our probes: a codex of greetings in our primary four languages. FAI scientists recorded a message as well…you may have seen our faces before.”
“I suppose we have, then. If I remember correctly, us discovering you caused quite a stir: semi-aquatic flightless birds! All sorts of facts about Bissems made the rounds on the internet. You’re the first pre-FTL civilization humanity has discovered. This is big to us as well.”
“You stated our classification like it was noteworthy. Are birds…there aren’t any other sapient birds?”
“We know two of them. The Duerten and the Krakotl.” The human’s eyes darted back and forth, with jerky movements that seemed to be acknowledging the watching cameras. “I’ll happily provide you with a species codex when we transmit our data for your perusal; that info will probably come tonight. The Duerten are not SC members; they run their own group called ‘The Shield.’ We would’ve brought a Krakotl along with our first contact party—we almost did—but they’re still a bit…fractious. Complicated. We figured you’d have more in common with the water-loving Thafki. You’re both drawn to it, aren’t you?”
“It’s in our nature. It’s why we build our nations on the coastline; it’s the giver of food and comfort. I believe Haliska said you enjoy it too, despite being mammals?”
The Thafki blinked at the sound of her name. “Humans are quite fond of the ocean. They evolved to be arboreal, but they seem to do whatever they want. There isn’t much in nature you won’t find that they’ve turned into some form of entertainment or escapism.”
“Earth is the galaxy’s entertainment capital for a reason. There’s something about their enthusiasm, their willingness to take on anything, that’s singular,” Nulia remarked. “I imagine some of their pastimes might expand your horizons.”
The human chuckled. “Bissems already share our pastime of making meemuhs. I bet my face is being plastered on dozens of them right now.”
“That was a Terran word you just used?” I prompted.
“Pictures with silly captions on the internet? That’s our word for them; I know you have a different one, but I’m blanking. Say, I bet you could make one of us three exiting the vehicle, and everyone staring at us. Some tagline like, ‘How your parents look at you when you flunk a test.’”
“You’re an idiot,” Nulia sighed. “You know millions of people can hear what we’re saying?”
“Then they’ll make the memes just like that. I planted the seed. A little fun and humor wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It’s a way of seeing the light in what’s crazy. It’s a very…human thing to do.”
“Did you make memes when Kalsim was bearing down on you?”
“Of course we did, but let’s not talk about that guy now. Dr. Tassi, would you mind showing us to the feast?”
General Naltor ducked away, from where he’d been giving a statement calling for cooperation between the Vritala, Selmer, and Tseia subspecies. “You’re asking the wrong Bissem, but yes, we can show you inside. I think that went exceedingly well. You were quite personable and humble. I don’t know if that’ll resonate with people, but that quality of yours has impressed me, Dustin.”
“Thanks. I respect that you want what’s best for your people, General Naltor. Protecting the vulnerable is the most honorable thing any sapient can do. Attitudes like that are one of the reasons I have high hopes for Bissems, to become a force for good—smashing down any preconceptions.”
“You talk a good game, alien. Let’s eat, shall we?”
I studied the Thafki out of my periphery, noticing her moving closer to the human. “Are you alright, Haliska? I notice the suggestion of the feast seems to spark a reaction from you.”
“I…apologize. I’ll be fine. This just isn’t my favorite…activity,” the blue-gray furred mammal muttered. “I’d much rather be having a swim together, but I’m here to learn and to be a positive influence. That’s right. Positivity.”
Haliska sounded beyond unconfident, though despite my increasing suspicions over her feast anxiety, I couldn’t bring myself to advise Naltor to call it off. If the alien said she was fine, then surely I was worrying about her emotional state for no reason. Thafkis’ demeanor could be more timid than other species, from living in a “commune” without a homeworld; we couldn’t apply Bissem standards to these visitors, no matter how similar to us they acted. Dustin had requested not to delve into the most disquieting issues tonight, and I was willing to respect that. However, it might be worth investing more mental resources into picking up on any clues…just in case the Thafki was in a vulnerable state.
This can’t go wrong, with a livestream of the feast happening; I don’t want it to reflect poorly on Haliska, not without the context of what’s up with her. I’ll keep an eye on her, and I suspect General Naltor will too.
With the entire world watching our shared meal, I led the way into the FAI convention center, and prepared to introduce the aliens to the other scientists who’d spent a lifetime seeking proof of their existence.