Christopher Nuttall - A Learning Experience

“The Secretary-General will summon you in ten minutes,” Komura informed him. He looked as though he wanted to ask a few questions, but held his tongue. “Nothing about this is normal, I’m afraid.”

Steve nodded and waited until the man had made his escape, then checked the bracelet at his wrist. The force shield should protect him from anything up to and including an IED, but he was grimly aware that human ingenuity might find a way to break through it. Light passed through the shield, after all, and a teleport lock could be blocked fairly easily, even with human technology. The Secret Service had already started to broadcast radio signals through the White House, ensuring that Steve couldn’t kidnap the President if the whim struck him.

He rolled his eyes at the thought. Why would he want the President?

It was nearly an hour before Komura returned and invited him to proceed into the General Assembly Chamber. Steve, who had been monitoring Kevin’s observations of the diplomats, wasn’t surprised at the delay. The Russians had already lodged a strong complaint with the Security Council, backed up by China, while they were trying hard to line up other backers from the rest of the Assembly. In the meantime, the French seemed caught between the Russians and the promise of fusion technology, while Britain and Canada were reserving judgement. From what the President had said, there was too much political strife in America itself to make any promises about which way the United States would jump.

Steve had grown up in the countryside and he had never been able to understand why New Yorkers chose to cram so many people into so small a place. The old hints of claustrophobia came back in full force as he stepped into the chamber and faced the stares of the gathered diplomats, ambassadors and world leaders. Part of him wanted to trigger the emergency signal and teleport out, vanishing in a haze of silver light. Surely, facing the Taliban armed with only his fists would be easier than facing so many hostile stares.

They can’t do anything to you , he told himself, firmly. And they can’t stop you either .

But somehow the thought didn’t help.

The silence shattered with an angry demand from the Russian Ambassador in Russian. It took the interface a few seconds to provide a translation — the Russian was complaining about the violation of the Outer Space Treaty — and in the meantime several other ambassadors started shouting too. The Chinese Ambassador seemed to believe that Steve had undermined his country’s laws, something that puzzled him, while several African ambassadors were railing against the white man. But it was hard to be sure. Everything was just blurring together into a god-awful racket.

There was a loud banging from the General Secretary’s seat. “Order,” he snapped, as the room started to quieten down. “Mr. Stuart. You have been… invited here to give your side of the story.”

Steve smiled. “You make it sound as though I am on trial,” he said, gathering himself. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that the General Secretary had any real power. If the five permanent members of the Security Council agreed, they could do whatever they damn well pleased. “Might I ask what the charges are?”

There were some titters from the reporters, but the diplomats remained silent.

“It is our intention,” Steve said, when it became clear that no one else was going to speak, “to establish a new nation covering the solar system, one capable of defending the human race against alien threats and taking humanity to the stars. We do not intend to become embroiled in affairs on Earth, nor do we recognise the existence of treaties intended to limit the development of outer space.”

“Those treaties were signed by your country,” the Russian Ambassador bellowed.

“The human race is not alone,” Steve continued, ignoring him. “There are over ten thousand alien races out there, some of whom have already kidnapped humans from Earth and turned them into living weapons. Others will see us as a threat… or a prize to be won. And, right now, Earth’s defences rest in our hands. There is nothing the massed might of the United Nations” — he fought down the urge to let loose an undiplomatic snigger — “can do to protect the planet, if one of the Galactics decide they want it.

“You speak of international treaties and accuse us of breaking them. The Galactics are not signatory to any of our treaties, nor should we expect them to respect our legal positions. We do not, yet, have the force necessary to hold our own. It is our priority — and it should be the priority of the entire planet — to build both that defensive force and a society capable of facing the galaxy calmly, but confidently. That is our task.

“We invite other humans, individual humans, to join us. Give us those who want to build a new world, those with the dreams that will take them to the stars, those who wish something more than the hidebound governments of Earth can provide. We will take all who are willing to fit into our society and work to defend Earth.”

He paused, long enough to realise that he had captured the attention of everyone in the vast chamber. “You have demanded that we hand over the ships and technology to you,” he said, looking at the Russian and Chinese representatives. “We must refuse to comply with your request. Quite apart from the grim awareness of just what you would do with the technology that has fallen into our hands, we have no faith in the governments of Earth. How could this organisation, an organisation that produces little beyond corruption and paperwork, hope to coordinate the defence of the entire world?

“We make you this offer. Recognise our right to exist, place no bar in the path of anyone who wishes to join us and we will trade technology to improve your lives. Fusion power will transform your societies, medical technology will help cure your ill… there are no shortage of possible pieces of technology we can offer you. But we only offer it on the condition you stay out of our way.

“If you refuse, you will get nothing. We will not interfere with you. But we will not grant you our technology either.”

There was a long silence, broken — eventually — by the representative from Iran, who started ranting about American interference and infidel lies. This time, Steve understood; Wilhelm Tech had openly admitted their alliance with Heinlein Colony and Iran had banned the dongles, which hadn’t prevented Iranians from smuggling them into the country. The Chinese, he realised, probably had the same concerns. Their firewalls, intended to prevent their citizens from plotting resistance to their rulers, had been neatly circumvented.

We will have to do something about their nukes , Steve thought, coldly. But it wouldn’t sit well with the pledge of non-interference. Or perhaps we should just leave the Middle East to them.

Komura beckoned to Steve frantically as the roar grew louder. UN security forces were rushing into the room, hastily preparing to separate the ambassadors if the threatening riot actually materialised. Steve hesitated, then allowed the Japanese man to lead him out of the chamber and into a small antechamber. Inside, there was a comfortable pair of armchairs and a small tray of expensive alcohol. Steve took one look, then dismissed it.

“There are some diplomats who wish to talk to you,” Komura said. “In private, I should add.”

He hesitated, then leaned forward. “Are you interested in recruiting a semi-professional diplomat?”

Steve turned to look at him. “And you’re interested in being hired?”

“Yes,” Komura said. “Have you ever tried to work here?”

“No,” Steve said. He gave the young man a long considering look, then nodded to himself and produced one of Charles’s cards from his pocket. “Call this number, then go to the address they give you for pickup. You’ll have to undergo a security check first, but if you pass you’ll be welcome.”