Memory Transcription Subject: Elias Meier, Former UN Secretary-General
Date [standardized human time]: February 11, 2161
Sitting in Secretary-General Osmani’s office, ready for General Jones to waltz into her dismissal, I hoped that she wouldn’t weasel her way out of this. I liked to think that she was a patriot, in her own mind, and wouldn’t sabotage the interests of her planet over a personal matter. Any information she had to take out the Remnants had to be received before we dropped the hammer. I was never too comfortable at being the bad guy, even with someone of her shady character. However, I suspected from Hamza’s steely eyes that he could be objective and impassive when needed. His leadership was well-timed.
What baffled me was how bumbling and ineffectual the aged spymaster had been; perhaps she’d see on her own that it was well past time she was put to pasture. The attempt to blackmail Tassi had been so hamfisted, and potentially damaging to the United Nations’ relations with both the SC and the vulnerable Bissems. It could have the blowback of seeming like our first contact was to take advantage of the helpless carnivores, much like the Federation—especially after I learned that the actual first contact team were roped into this scheme. I feared what had been done to our own scientists to facilitate that.
If Jones was going after the Shield or the Remnants, I might understand; my continued attempts to win them over aren’t the most strategic move, and they are our adversaries on the basis of what we are. We must not become like the Federation or the Krev Consortium with our own people. Humanity has seen the dangers.
Osmani steepled his fingers. “Commanding allies after what happened at Grenelka is our top priority. We must hit the Ghost Farsul with multiple blitz attacks quick and hard, and prevent Jones from alienating an SC that is backing us full-throatedly. Your rebuke had something to do with that, I wager.”
“I spoke the words every human was thinking,” I responded. “That’s how we do our business: direct, not back-handed like her methodology. We can be fed up and still go about achieving our goals in a lofty way.”
“Sometimes, violence and fighting dirty is the only option; a bloodied nose demands an answer in kind, or you’ll continue to be kicked. I see the pragmatic value of covert operations, as I think you do. However, by any stretch of the imagination, the Bissems weren’t in this boat. They should be categorized as a species the UN has a duty to protect from the very same hatred that befell us.”
“Yes, we haven’t done them many favors. Getting rid of our Jones problem is the start of showing our sincerity. It’s necessary to clear the path to proper SC unity as well; we need trust.”
“You know what you believe, your will is strong, and you have clear-cut goals. I respect that, Elias.”
“Thank you, sir. I could say all of the same things about you.”
Our conversation fell quiet as we heard the clacking of shoes down the hallway, the measured, composed steps of someone who was never caught off-guard. I wondered if Jones had an inkling of what we were planning, but it didn’t show on the unphased smile when she opened the door. I knew Osmani had already run this by the actual nation which held Jones’ leash, to avoid an international incident. Who the US employed on Earth was their business, but who represented all of us to aliens was ours. I really wanted to see us be better; the greatest gift of digital immortality was that I could live long enough to witness it.
“I’d be a shitty spy if I couldn’t tell when I was about to be cut loose.” Jones spoke the words with little emotion, and settled down in the chair. “You don’t like to admit that I’m as much a part of humanity as you—perhaps without the glamor that Elias indulges in. The KC were and are a serious threat, and I did what was needed to ensure our success.”
Osmani arched an eyebrow. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
“I fail to see how coercing Dr. Tassi has anything to do with the Krev Consortium,” I interjected.
Jones smiled. “Yes, well you never liked me. You’re still living in 2136 in many ways, Elias, but the rest of us moved on. I never actually wanted Tassi as an asset. Did I want her to spy on a few variables? Sure—and she did it while thinking she was playing me. I didn’t strongarm the one member of her team that she cared for most; and I could’ve, with something as simple as blackballing his Venlil artist brother from several Skalgan galleries. I knew it’d push her to him.”
“So that’s where Dustin vanished to?! He was working for you?”
“Unwittingly. I had agents swap out his holopad, and just like that: ears in the Bissems camp, on everything the Arxur and Sivkits might be plotting against us. Furthermore, and this is the important bit: the Arxur had escaped at this point, but I couldn’t directly ask them for help. That would’ve damaged the UN a hundredfold more than this coming to light. Do you understand?”
Osmani crossed his arms. “How that constitutes asking the Arxur for help? You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“General Naltor is predictable. He likes being…in charge and in control of situations, responding poorly to any attempt to bully him. The kind of Bissem that puffs out his chest to threats and tries to reverse them. If I threatened to reveal his ties to the Arxur, it was obvious he’d dig himself in deeper and turn the narrative. What’s the only thing the SC might appreciate? Helping defend Talsk. My plan saved the Farsul. It led to them taking refugees to win support.”
“You have no account for pushing a potential ally and symbolic victory into the waiting grip of the Yotul, who were just looking for proof that we should be banished from carrying out any uplifts?”
“White knights Meier and Dustin happily swooped in to help and prove that humanity at large wasn’t like that. You’ll win them back over. Let me add that the Arxur’s fleet would’ve saved Aafa, were it not for Meier’s unexpected interference to bring the Remnants to town. That doesn’t fall on me. My plans worked to perfection.”
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“This bastardized scheming isn’t what I’d call perfection,” I spat. “You don’t care who you hurt, including good people. Our people.”
“The survival of a planet outweighs the mental state of one scientist, and you’re more naive than even I thought if you don’t see that.”
“You have no boundaries over how to accomplish an objective. I don’t abide by the school of Machiavelli, certainly not with public-facing civilians or prisoners of war!”
“Tsk tsk, simmer down. You’re not in charge here; Hamza Osmani is. Mr. Secretary-General, your advisor is angry that I didn’t handle Gress with kid gloves, and can’t square it away with his own morality that I am a necessity. I could say my actions are for humanity’s benefit, but it’s beyond that: it’s for our continued existence. Any liberties I take are with that knowledge.”
Osmani’s eyes shifted toward me, a shrewd glint in his pupils. If I was capable of sucking in an apprehensive breath, I would have. The way Jones dismissed me and claimed that I was stuck in the year 2136 filled me with anger. On the contrary, I had moved on, and wanted to make my own name from myself; to do that, I needed to literally have my own name. She still saw the same Elias Meier from those days, just like Kuemper, Syba, Virnt, Korajan, and everyone else. I wanted to renounce my claim that I had any connection to the dead Secretary-General, beyond being built from his memories. I sought my own life.
Hearing them call me his name and speak about “my” past life, as if any of that belonged to me, is incongruent with my view of myself; I don’t want to be referred to in such a way. It’s time I crafted a new name, to clearly separate myself from the Swiss, biological human who bled out on the Venlil streets without ever knowing humanity’s ultimate fate. The man who breathed, tasted, and dreamt at night.
I hoped Osmani wouldn’t be swayed by Elias’ past history with Jones, since his first concern was that this was a personal vendetta. He seemed to care about steering the Sapient Coalition in the right direction.
“You tied yourself to this, Jones. That was your mistake, and you know it,” the Secretary-General sighed. “The Bissems could say that we knew about your techniques and did nothing, if I let you stay on. You’re too hot to touch on a political level and you know it.”
Jones gave a shrug. “Yes, yes, I’ll disappear to the shadowland. I don’t need a title, and I’m happy to let them think I’m gone. I can give a show of tendering my resignation a month from today—time to point you where you need to go to hit the Remnants at the top. Those ears I have on the Sivkits—”
“What did you do to Dustin?” I blurted.
“Dustin was going to start blabbing to anyone with ears. An operative offered him a job at a xenobiology project to restore Ivrana’s ecosystem and document its lifeforms in case of planetary extinction: a legitimate venture, mind you, and one he couldn’t resist. He had to leave immediately and go off the grid for a few months, allegedly due to a need to avoid distractions with the planet about to go critical. He’s safe and working a dream job, and will be rather confused that you thought he disappeared for malevolent reasons. I needed time, so Tassi had to think it handled.”
“Time for what? How do you have ears on the Sivkits if he isn’t eavesdropping on Tassi?”
“You think he never messaged Tassi from that holopad? He became unnecessary that moment. The spyware infects any device it encounters, so it leapt onto Loxsel’s holopad from there. The Sivkits have a good idea where the ghost Farsul’s new base of operations are, after searching their cleaned-out old one for any clues. Right here.”
Osmani jotted down the stellar coordinates, eyes narrowed. “I’ll organize a strike force at once; that lead should curry enough favor with the Bissems to undo any harm done by an errant spymaster. They want the ones that attacked them, as we do we. I appreciate the help, General Jones. The information is vital, so I can acknowledge that your…plan paid dividends.”
“What matters is knowing as much as possible about who we're up against, and finding the leverage for mankind to come out on top. I told you, I’m trying to win this war for us. I have ears in the Shield as well, and for any politicians I know are voting against siding with Earth, I have blackmail strategies in mind. We cannot always play nice and beg for friendship as Elias wishes.”
“You have no idea what my wishes are. If you did, you’d stop calling me that name,” I grumbled.
“Oh? That’s the first anyone is hearing of this. What exactly would you have me call you instead of Elias Meier—the name you introduced yourself by and had no problem hearing from friends?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not him; I’m the first of a new kind of a human.” The first. I guess I’m finally freeing myself of this burden. I should choose something…symbolic, that suits who I feel I am. Who’s the progenitor—the first human to walk the earth—in the world’s most prominent religion? “Adam seems suitable. Adam Meier has an odd ring to it, but I could get used to it. While this life was not what I chose, the name could be. Let Elias rest.”
Jones gave a mocking clap. “How original. Look, Adam, I hardly care what you call yourself. You’re good for symbolic gestures and grandiose speeches, but your idealism clouds your judgment.”
“Adam’s idealism brings an uncompromising clarity to both his judgment and his resolve. I embraced his aid because of his refusal to stop striving for a better future,” Osmani countered, giving me a slight nod. “I will not always heed his guidance, but I see the value of having someone of such character. Those views preserve the part of humanity that can be spoken of in decent company. He has every reason to take pride in his moral conviction and the tasks he’s undertaken.”
“That’s very kind of you.” The lack of saliva in my mouth became noticeable, as I tried to swallow; I was touched enough by the Secretary-General leaping to my defense at once, that I felt like I should be choked up. “Thank you, sir.”
“I don’t need your gratitude for heartfelt admiration. While you may feel that you were a copy, I think you stand as your own person—and I won’t hear you disparaged. Jones, see yourself out. That resignation letter should be on my desk, exactly as you proposed.”
The general stood with a curt frown. “As you wish, sir. So long as you know I’ve done nothing but my duty in the service of humanity.”
“Yes, yes. Leave us. I have planning to do for that raid on this ghost Farsul base, and I dare not waste a second. It’s time we take out their leadership, and dig up their deepest secrets. You’ll have your cozy pension and your good name, so I suggest you leave before those go up in smoke.”
I watched as Jones exited, and reflected on her explanations for her actions. It was devious enough to have borne fruit, but I could only see how broken Tassi was after having her hopes crushed. There’d been enough enthusiastic scientists who were chewed up and spit out by a heartless galaxy, just like Elias’ friend, Dr. Kuemper—reduced to a sorry, jaded state of giving up on the Orion Arm. Right and wrong should matter in a proper society, one that held itself to higher standards than its predecessor. I felt good to have affirmation from Osmani about who I was and what I believed in.
With the question of my sense of self resolved, I was freed to choose a new life beyond diplomatic confines. Adam Meier would take the mantle of paving a path for synthetic organics, and ensuring that moral protections were taken into consideration on both sides of the equation. He had his own friends, like Korajan, Syba, and Tassi, who knew him and formed connections in this existence. My contributions to a better future would be singular—and my own. That was enough to give me the peace and determination to continue down my current path.