Sergei Lukyanenko - The Genome

“Executioner-spesh. Officially, it has another name, but that’s what it is. Actually, that is my main specialization.”

“You’re from Eben!” exclaimed Alex, finally catching on. “Damn…”

“Yes, I am.” The woman glared back at him. “The planet Eben is quarantined. I was born there. I served in the Mutual Understanding Corporation until the age of thirty. Was taken prisoner of war during the battle of Pokryvalo. Five years of psychotherapy. Temporary citizenship of the Empire, with a permit to work and reproduce.”

Now it was clear to Alex why this woman with five—well, let it be four—specializations was wearing the pin of a cargo technician, a profession she had acquired on her own.

“What is your decision?” she asked dryly.

“May I ask you something, off the record?”

“Yes. I think that would be fine…” She looked suddenly embarrassed.

“Do you have any experience with determining specialization?”

Janet shrugged.

“Well, I’m not an expert, of course, but I have some experience. It’s standard procedure in our fleet to determine which specialization will turn out to be the dominant one, and whether there are any physiological conflicts in the body. For example, the work of a doctor and a detective cannot be combined for psychological reasons, and the jobs of a navigator and a pilot because of physiology. Everybody knows that, but there are many situations which are much more complicated.”

Janet, it seemed, was happy to talk. Alex nodded, satisfied with her answer, and then asked, “And why did you lose the war so quickly? Ten years ago, Eben’s fleet almost matched the firepower of the Imperial forces. And you had all that training… each person had at least three specializations, right? I mean, what happened?”

“You really don’t know?” A slight note of surprise flashed in Janet’s voice. “We had not been trained to fight against humans! Quite the opposite… We believed that the human race had to rule the universe. Another six months, or a year, and nothing could have stopped us, believe me. Oh, Deus Irae! Our Liturgy -class space cruisers could have blasted off a star’s photosphere, turning it into a supernova! The cleansing fire that would have burned away all the planets of the Others!”

“Good thing you didn’t have the time to build those cruisers!” said Alex, closely watching Janet’s reaction.

“Not so. Two cruisers were ready. They couldn’t have broken through to the sectors of the Others, but to blow away the Sun or Sirius—child’s play!” she laughed without mirth. “My dear Captain, we could not fight against humans! It was a shortcoming of our own propaganda. We could cajole, or beg, or explain… take prisoners and brainwash them… but to kill our own kind…”

“The Empire also suffered losses…”

“Mostly by accident. Sometimes as a result of nervous breakdowns. Some officers shot to kill and then sent a ray into their own heads, as soon as they realized that they had killed their blood brothers. You didn’t have such problems.”

“Last question, Janet. Forgive me, but I have to ask.”

“Go ahead. I understand.”

“What is your present attitude toward Eben’s ideology? Put yourself in my shoes… to have a person aboard who was born to exterminate any non-human intelligence…”

“I still hold firm to my view that the human race is the ideal one in the universe. Chosen by the Creator.” Janet was silent for a moment, and then added rather dryly, “Alex, you do understand that the consequences of a specialization are irreversible. Absolutely irreversible.”

“But how do you manage to lead a normal life, if you still believe that so strongly?” Alex looked around to see if he could find at least one of the Others. Quicksilver Pit was far from the frontier, but some trading vessels of the Others did fly here. Too bad—there were no non-humans in the cafe. Not a single bulky, clumsy Fenhuan, wrapped into folds of pseudo-feathers, nor a small and agile Bronin, nor a Zzygou… not that those “fragrant” creatures would be allowed to come into a restaurant.

“Now I am convinced,” said Janet very firmly, “that the xenocidal methods of our ruling church were a disastrous mistake. They are unacceptable for moral and ethical reasons, because by killing the Others without being threatened ourselves, we would be dropping down to their level. The human race must conquer the galaxy by peaceful methods, by perfecting our technology and biotechnology, expanding to other planets, creating beauty, and multiplying vigorously. That is the way to drive the defective races to extinction, clearing the galactic space for us humans. I am even inclined to think that we would then have a duty to preserve their cultural monuments, establish museums and memorials, and use every opportunity to keep the remnants of their worlds’ biodiversity in zoos and on reservations.”

“And you live your life based on these convictions?”

“Yes, of course. In the ten years since my liberation, I have given birth to four healthy and intelligent children, and specialized them in socially useful, peaceful professions.” She thought for a moment, and then added, “Well, nominally peaceful… You don’t have to worry, Captain. When I see one of the Others, I won’t remember any methods to exterminate it. Unless there is imminent danger.”

“All right, then. If the contract and the ship suit you…”

Janet nodded. A slight smile appeared on her face.

“I think they will suit me. I would prefer a job in cargo, but being a doctor won’t be bad. All my other specializations are much more unpleasant. You need recommendations from previous employers?”

“Yes, please. I have no doubt that your qualifications are excellent, but that’s the procedure.”

Alex handed her one of the copies of the contract he had brought with him, and they had another drink to seal the preliminary agreement. Then Janet left.

Alex’s cigar had long smoldered to ashes. In any case, he was supposed to order another one, and so he did.

A medical doctor from Eben… that was a great irony of fate. Well, fate was a master of irony.

He had absolutely no doubts about Janet’s professional qualities. All of her other specializations were a definite plus, even if she never got to use them. She was practically incapable of aggression towards humans because of the shortcoming of Eben’s propaganda machine, the shortcoming which had enabled the Empire to quarantine the planet, to seal it off from the rest of the galaxy.

But would Janet lose it at the sight of a non-human? Would she remember her specialization of executioner-spesh? No, that was hardly possible. She had, after all, been released by the military psychologists, free to interact with society, even have contact with the Others. The psychologists must have been sure of their tactics. Come to think of it, that was a very clever solution to the problem. They did not touch the main postulate of the Ebenian worldview—namely, the idea that humanity was the master race. All they did was convince the POWs of the necessity of using peaceful means to achieve galactic domination. So out of a hundred thousand raging prisoners who would never again see their unfortunate home world, they got a hundred thousand well-qualified speshes who were also fanatically loyal to humanity. The military was forbidden to recruit them, as far as Alex knew. In the military, their faith might acquire thousands of new believers, and the psychological blocks could be dashed to pieces.

“Captain?”

This fellow was very young, barely twenty. Obviously right out of the academy.

“Yes?”

“Do you have a vacancy for an engineer-spesh?”

People were all so impatient today for some reason! Alex had had occasion to witness a hiring ritual conducted by his former captain, Richard Klein—or Roaring Richard, as others used to call him behind his back. During the hiring, Richard seemed to be a completely different person—thorough, patient, even somewhat drowsy. And those who approached his table behaved the same way…