In the Name of Earth

Chapter 5: Space 101

On his tight blue diplomacy student uniform, Marvin stumbled through the gravity-free corridors of the space station on his search of classroom 37, where he was scheduled to have Introduction to Space. The name was disturbingly vague and infuriatingly corny, but if 20 minutes bumbling around in 0-G had proven anything it was that introduction to space was absolutely necessary, however generic it was.

At some point along the way, when Marvin was almost taking hold of a handrail, Alexa had floated right past him, giggling. If watching his struggle was not enough, she had taken the chance to gently nudge his shoulder, sending him into an endless backflip away from the handrail. That had added at least five minutes to his journey.

At least, once inside classroom 37 and surrounded by other rookies, embarrassment would be a little lighter given how the entire class bumped heads trying to seat down.

“Good morning, class!” a tanned man, in slick gray hair combed backwards, floated right into the room in a navy-blue suit and nimbly flipped over his head to grab hold of speaker’s podium. He then proceeded to pull himself until he looked like he was standing behind the podium in perfect gravity, despite several students still fluctuating upside-down. Marvin included.

“I’m Professor Watson, and this is Introduction to Space. Or how I like to call it, Space 101!” the professor’s and class names were magically added to the board. “Here you’ll learn everything there is to know about the EDS, the Milky Way and humanity’s place in it. You’ll also learn how to not look stupid in zero-gee, which you clearly desperately need, but that’s not until next month. For now, just don’t be upside-down when the countdown starts.”

At that point, Marvin was still having trouble even telling which way was up.

“The most important skill you’ll have as stellar diplomats,” Watson proceeded, “is the ability to ignore everything you think you know and adapt to new realities. The fact that none of you had a meltdown upon discovering we’re not alone in the universe proves you’re pretty much naturals at that, but don’t think it’s a one-time thing.

  “What might come across as common sense to us or most species in the galaxy might be an entirely alien concept to the people you are talking to. Culture, morality, values, interests, rituals, religion, diet… All things can be entirely subverted by a race. The only thing you can prepare for is to be constantly surprised.

“That said, we are lucky that enough of the most developed species in the galaxy share some basic primal values. To ensure stability for all life across the Milky Way, these primordial values have been translated into the Galactic Code! Some refer to it as a constitution, I like to see it as the space equivalent to the Geneva Convention. Any species that dare violate it are mercilessly hunted down and driven back to the stone age to maybe try again in a few thousand years.

“Over the course of your training, you will be expected to know the whole thing by heart! It is the single most vital piece of knowledge for any diplomat. First because, if you accidentally break it, you’re f*****g with eight billion humans, including your moms and dads and boyfriends and girlfriends. Second because the Code is our first and last line of interstellar defense. Without it some asshole alien empire would have already turned Manhattan to a big egg hatching pool and shipped everyone you know to be slaves in Gallornium mines.

“Now, we’ll eventually go over all the details, but this is the single most important part of the Code. Techno-Sentience Classifications,” Professor Watson keyed something on his infopad and a chart appeared on the pads of all his floating students. He gave the class a moment of silence to study the five major groups and all its subgroups. It went from A to E, each of those divided in six parts.

“We evidently have taken the liberty of renaming the classifications to make them more human friendly, attributing our letters and numbers, but here is the key take-away: A1 you’re smart s**t. E6 you’ve just discovered to make fire and are still figuring out your ooga-boogas. Only one species is currently at A1, the Moderators.”

Everyone’s infopads showed a picture of majestic bird-like creatures with colorful beaks.

“They’re the most advance race in the galaxy and have apparently figured out some transcendental interdimensional sci-fi mumbo-jumbo that puts them ahead of everybody. Thankfully, they are good guys, as far as we know. Instead of conquering the galaxy, they just watch and enforce the Galactic Code. If anyone’s getting too cocky, Moderators just slap’em into extinction.

“The other A-list species are extremely advanced technologically and uh… spiritually, however they measure that crap. Nice guys who don’t want to e*****e everyone they meet. These guys write the Galactic Code with the Moderators and pretty much rule the galaxy.”

“Like the G7 back on Earth?” Marvin asked, just now managing to grab hold of a chair bolted to the ground.

“Not a bad comparison,” the professor nodded. “Except they aren’t seven, but a few dozen.

“Now, moving on to B-listed species. Spacefarers not developed enough for the A.”

“So, us?” a floating boy asked.

“No! Going to the moon and back is as much Spacefaring as riding a bike down a garage ramp on training wheels is cycling. Whatever space travelling we do here depends on alien tech and is not available to humanity as a whole. For all practical effects we’re still stuck to Earth.”

“Why though?” a girl who had managed to sit down asked. “If we have all this tech in Gaia Station, why not share?”

“Any guesses?” Watson asked the rest of the class, making Marvin recall what Ludwig had said about people freaking out.

“Humanity’s not ready,” Marvin risked. “It would be like giving an A-Bomb to a medieval nation. Technological development in a society must be progressive.”

“Pretty good answer,” Watson said. “But in truth it’s illegal according to the Galactic Code. Technological and cultural exchange is allowed between societies listed as A or B, and species at C4 or less can be influenced if they prove a liability to their ecosystem. It’s in the gap that lies the problem: C1, C2 and C3 species. Developed enough to care for themselves but not intellectually ready for contact.”

“Are we one of those?” Marvin asked.

“C3. Right on the limit.”

“And how do we pass on to B?”

The professor smiled. That was not on the program for the first class, but he would not mind telling. In fact, he really wanted to spoil the surprise.

“Traditionally, we would take it one step at a time,” Watson allowed himself to flutter away from the podium. “The criteria to move up to C2 would be a unified government for all humanity. As you can probably guess, that’s a f*****g long way from even remotely happening. Last time we tried that route, 75 million humans died and we slipped back onto C4 rank. We almost had an alien intervention to control our nuclear threat to Earth, but we got the UN to employ ecological measures just in time to go back to C3.

“So, if we’re getting to B anytime soon and without spilling red blood, we’ll need a shortcut. By definition, B-listed species are capable of one or more of the following: Building interstellar spaceships of purely human design; colonizing a planet in another solar system; developing technological innovations for the galaxy or; waging interstellar war!”

The last topic of the list sent a shiver down Marvin’s spine, all the way to his toes. The memory of a cafeteria filled with human space-soldiers in black uniform immediately resurfaced, accompanied by Alexa’s words:

‘…merely an initiative. We have to start somewhere.’

Was that she meant? That would be insanity! There was no way a war with an interstellar power would benefit humanity, even if it forced their way into the B-list and allowed for unprecedented technological leaps. Then again, out of all the options posed by the professor, Marvin had no reason to believe any of the others were anywhere near happening. Humanity was definitely not building a spaceship within the next centuries. Mars was still far enough, let alone another star. For all he knew no human creation would be innovative enough for the galactic community either, and there was no evidence of extrasolar colonization, despite that not sounding so absurd.

Marvin was shooting his hand up to ask about colonization initiatives when an alarm buzzed, and the polite feminine voice returned on the speakers.

“Educational Center, brace for localized gravity restoration in 5. 4. 3. 2…”

Marvin clutched to his selected desk and pressed his butt to the chair behind it, soon feeling the grip gravity take over the effort. Infopads rained all over the room, accompanied by some unlucky students. Most landed on their feet or butts, but a poor fool on the back of the class collapsed head-first into the floor.

“f**k!” Professor Watson ran to the man. “I told you to not be upside down! Class dismissed! See you all Friday!”

And that was Space 101. Something told Marvin he would fit in quite alright in the final frontier.