We differ from the Formics’ assault on Earth only in that we are alert to the possibility of encountering intelligent life, and we are determined to abandon any world which contains it.
I do not believe that this noble self-restraint will survive the first encounter with such a sentient species. First, we will have every motive to find that they are not sentient, including redefining sentience upward until we ourselves do not meet the criteria.
Second, if their land is desirable and they seem not to be using extensive tracts of it, we will delude ourselves that the land is “empty” and will allow “limited” colonization. We will do this because the planet will already be promised to a group of colonists, who will already be on the way to it and cannot be turned back until they arrive.
Co-occupation of a planet with an indigenous sentient species will inevitably lead to genocide or sequestration of the natives, unless their technology is equal or superior to our own, in which case our outnumbered colonizing force will be destroyed.
Therefore, any approach to an alien goldilocks planet must be conducted exactly as one would approach an enemy whose intentions are not yet known.
This does not mean that the normal military decision-making process will be appropriate, primarily because the normal military decision-making process is not appropriate for the military, so it would be insane to transfer it to exploratory expeditions.
Good commanders, military and otherwise, recognize these laws:
1. Nobody thinks of everything.
2. Not everybody thinks of anything.
3. In a genuine emergency, the course of action will be unanimously and immediately recognized and carried out; good leadership in such a case consists of maintaining order and keeping records.
4. If it is not a genuine emergency, then inaction is the best policy until there is enough information to allow the decision-making group to pool information and offer multiple suggestions.
5. Retreat is a course of action. In most emergencies it is the obvious best course. Otherwise, desirable inaction includes not retreating.
6. The leader who consults only himself is so stupid and dangerous as to constitute an emergency requiring his immediate removal. The process of removal must not be treated as mutiny.
7. Consultation requires asking, listening, and considering. It does not require compliance. The leader must explain the reasons for the ultimate decision.
8. The duty of team members who are not the leader is to provide the leader and other team members with as much information and as many possible courses of action as possible, including irrelevant information, since the determination of relevancy is preemptive decision-making.
From MinCol: Dabeet is finally getting some idea of why he is alive.
To MinCol: A purpose imposed on a child by another, however well-intentioned, will invariably cause the child to regard it as the most detestable of all possible goals and he will devote his life to obliterating or obliviating it.
From MinCol: Unless the purpose-imposer is actually helping the child realize the child’s own unconscious desires.
To MinCol: Thus do parents and teachers deceive themselves into believing they are omniscient. The belief in one’s own omniscience is the least reparable form of ignorance.
From MinCol: The fact that I continue to consult with you is proof that I have mastered Dabeet’s eight principles. And also the dozens of principles he has not yet detected.
To MinCol: The fact that you continue to meddle in Dabeet’s life in every circumstance except actual emergencies is proof that the time I spend consulting with you is completely wasted.
From MinCol: Keep up the good work.
Dabeet knew perfectly well that nobody would see anything suspicious about a meeting of the team of builders. Toons and special squads met together whenever they needed to decide something or plan something or get some kind of training.
But Dabeet was so tense and alert as the team assembled that he felt a little nauseated and a little faint. He had never felt this way before, and he even wondered if he might be coming down with something.
Then, when everyone was there, Dabeet realized that he wasn’t tense out of fear that the teachers or staff would suspect something strange or dangerous was going on. He was tense because he didn’t know whose meeting this was. While he and Monkey had decided to assemble everybody, she was the one who actually notified the others. Did that mean she was in charge of this meeting? Or would it be Zhang He?
And now that they were all here, he knew. It was Monkey’s meeting. That came as a great relief. Dabeet briefly tried to figure out why. Had he been afraid that it would be Zhang’s meeting? Despite Zhang’s recent hostility, Dabeet still regarded him with great respect. And, if he was really to be honest with himself, he still felt trust in and affection toward Zhang He.
Why not? Zhang was the first to join him in the battleroom, the first to accept Dabeet’s leadership. Who cared what his motive was? Nobody was ever going to be Dabeet’s friend because they thought he was so bacana. And he wouldn’t want to have friends who chose their friends on the basis of general coolness. Merit was what mattered, and no matter what Zhang He said, Dabeet knew that Zhang had joined with him because Dabeet was doing something interesting and useful that nobody else was doing.
That was then. This meeting wasn’t about innovative battleroom tactics. And another reason Dabeet felt relieved, he realized, was that because Monkey took charge of the meeting, it meant Dabeet didn’t have to. That would have been very hard, since the meeting was about dealing with danger that Dabeet had brought to Fleet School with him.
Not by my choice, thought Dabeet. But whom was he arguing with? Keep silent, he told himself. Let others say what they will. All that matters is that this group of innovative, cooperative, intelligent people participate in trying to solve the problem.
And then Dabeet thought: Am I one of that group?
Maybe that’s what this meeting is really supposed to decide.
“This isn’t about the battleroom,” said Monkey. “Or anything inside the school. The whole station may be in serious danger from outside. From Earth, or at least from a conspiracy that has its roots on Earth.”
“And you learned about this from your last dirtside visit?” Ignazio asked her.
“I learned about it from the obvious source,” said Monkey. Then she outlined very briefly the threat to Dabeet’s mother, what the kidnappers had told Dabeet their plan was, and the action Dabeet had already taken to signal the potential raiders.
Then there was silence. A long silence, in which nobody looked at Dabeet.
Dabeet wanted to assure them, to convince them, that there had been no choice, that when he arrived at Fleet School, he hadn’t known anybody yet, so why should he have felt any loyalty? In other words, he wanted to persuade them not to be angry with him.
But what was the point of that? They should be angry and afraid, because Fleet School was in serious danger. Or might be. They had to plan as if it were. So their anger, even if it was temporarily directed at him, was still a positive. At least they hadn’t laughed at Monkey’s assessment of the threat. They were taking the problem seriously.
“What do you already have?” asked Zhang He.
That was his leadership, thought Dabeet. Zhang was asserting that Monkey was reporting to him, and through him, to the whole group.
“Dabeet and I went into the back passages.”
“The ducts?” asked Timeon. “Like Bean?”
Ragnar rolled his eyes. “The service corridor, right?”
“Easy to get into, on every level,” said Monkey.
“Easy to get trapped in,” said Ignazio.
“No more so than the public corridors,” said Monkey. “Also, lots of chemicals and solvents, as well as emergency atmo suits.”
“What, you think we should make bombs, blow up the station, and then float around in spacesuits until the grownups come to save us?” asked Timeon.
Monkey looked like she meant to respond angrily, but Zhang He intercepted her. “If need be,” said Zhang He. “She was listing our resources, not making plans, and it’s good to know that we have chemicals and what we could do with them.”
“Explosives, definitely,” said Monkey. “Some oxygen-dependent, some that could work without O-two. Not sure if anything would work as a rapid solvent, at least not on whatever suits the raiders might be wearing.”
“We’ll work out the chemistry later, when we have the full inventory,” said Zhang He. He glanced around the group. “Does that make sense?”
Dabeet assumed for a moment that what Zhang was really saying was, Anybody want to argue with me? But no, thought Dabeet. There was no anger or assertiveness in Zhang’s voice or face or body when he asked if it made sense to defer the discussion about explosives.
“What about just telling the teachers and letting the security forces take care of it?” asked Ignazio.
Monkey looked at Dabeet. So did Zhang. And then, finally, so did everybody.
“I told Robota Smirnova about the threat,” said Dabeet. “Before she was moved out of the station itself. If she isn’t part of the conspiracy, then I can only assume that she has alerted the appropriate people in the security force.”
Ignazio shrugged. “Well then, if they’ve got it in hand, what’s it to us?”
Dabeet wanted to retort that as anyone with half a brain would realize, assumptions about what Robota might or might not have done meant nothing. What guarantee did he have that she had believed his story? But he held his tongue.
“If we see signs that the security forces are ready, fine,” said Monkey. “But have there been any changes in routine? Has our brilliant military contingent been increased? Are they responding to the potential threat?”
She was referring to the two IF marines detailed to maintain discipline and security inside the station.
“They don’t seem any less lazy and stupid than usual,” said Ragnar.
“The real security needs to take place outside of the station,” said Zhang He. “So the raiders never get inside. We won’t see their preparations for that.”
“I have a pretty radical idea,” said Timeon. “What if Dabeet didn’t open the door?”
“His mother will be killed,” said Monkey. She looked at Zhang. “That was in the message you helped him decode.”
“Will my mother be killed?” asked Ragnar. He looked around the group.
Everybody except Dabeet avoided his gaze. Most of them looked down at the floor.
“Sorry,” said Ragnar. “I just don’t know how many people should die on this station to save one kid’s mother from what might be an empty threat.”
“This is all hypothetical,” said Zhang He. “It might all be kuso. But we’re navigating in unmapped space. So we can’t afford to assume anything. And we can’t just write off anybody. Or anybody’s mom. Not now.”
Dabeet knew he shouldn’t be resentful of Ragnar’s suggestion that Maria Rafaella Ochoa might be expendable—he had harbored the thought himself. But the crassness with which Ragnar asked, “Will my mother be killed?” rankled deeply.
Ragnar saw Dabeet’s inadvertent response. He gestured toward Dabeet. “Why is he even here? He shouldn’t have heard my comment, but I did need to say it, and it’s not as if he’s contributing anything.”
Monkey leaned her head against Ragnar’s shoulder. “You’re so sweet, Ragnar. He’s keeping his mouth shut precisely so that you can say such stupendously insensitive things, as if Dabeet were not a human being with feelings. I think he’s doing it so splendidly that we should let him remain as long as he can stand it.”
Ragnar shrugged her away. “If we have to be nice, we can’t make an honest assessment.”
“Nobody’s worried that we’ll suffer from an excess of niceness,” said Zhang He. “It may be that Dabeet will be prompted to remember information that he doesn’t know that he knows. He’s also quite possibly the smartest person in Fleet School, so it’s not inconceivable that he’ll have an idea worth thinking about.”
“Test smart,” murmured Timeon.
“I’d rather have test-smart,” said Ignazio, “than everything-stupid.”
“If I had a plan,” said Dabeet softly, “I would have either proposed it or carried it out. I only just got into the back corridors, thanks to Monkey. I’m going to explore a lot more, just to see what’s there. I’ll tell you what I find.”
“We already have your list of cleaning supplies,” said Ragnar.
“And if that’s all that’s back there, won’t it be good to know that?” asked Dabeet. “I know that I brought some aspects of this problem with me, but do you really believe that if they’re determined to do this, my noncooperation would have stopped them? It’s quite possible that I’m in this only so that after it’s all a disaster, I’ll be available to blame it on.”
“And all the families of the dead Fleet School kids,” said Ragnar, “will feel much better if you can prove that you tried to stop it.”
“I think the only question we need to answer today,” said Dabeet, “is whether we’re going to try to kill them the moment they appear, or keep our violence level low until they escalate.”
“Your question contains the answer,” said Timeon. “We have to wait till they prove they’re terrorists.”
Monkey shook her head firmly. “That could be with one big station-shattering explosion. If they come, they start dying right away.”
“Make them attend meetings like this till they die of boredom,” said Ragnar.
“You can leave when you want,” said Zhang He.
“I think the real question, the first question, the one we need to decide right now,” said Ignazio, “is why we think we can decide for everybody. Isn’t the whole population of the station at risk? Why do we think we’re fit to decide for all?”
“Because we make really cool structures in the battleroom,” said Monkey, as if this should be obvious to all.
“Very funny,” said Ignazio. “But if we keep this confined to the six of us, how are we different from Dirt Boy keeping this secret for all these months?”
“No name-calling,” said Zhang He.
“Because we might hurt the kay-quop’s feelings?” asked Ignazio. “He’s free to leave, too.”
Dabeet stood up. “I think you’ll be able to speak more freely if I’m not here. I hope you’ll let me know what you decide.” He walked out of the barracks room they were using.
It was rumored to be the barracks that Ender Wiggin’s Dragon Army had used during Battle School days. But if there was an aura of success and brilliance that would spread to anyone using it for a planning meeting, Dabeet had not detected it.
They would think he left because he was angry, but that was only partly right. He agreed with all the scorn they directed at him. He deserved it. But it also wouldn’t help them think well, so it needed to stop. The best way to stop it was to remove the target.
Dabeet went to the first closet door in the corridor, jumped up to tap the palm lock, and was about to go inside when he heard someone coming. He pushed the door back into closed position and sat down against the door with his head resting on his knees.
Adult steps. They came to a stop next to him. “Where are you supposed to be?” asked a man’s voice.
“In a barrio in Indiana,” said Dabeet.
“Oh, it’s you.” Dabeet knew the voice now. It was Gusti, the accounting teacher.
“I lost track of time,” said Dabeet.
“You don’t lose track of anything,” said Gusti. “But I’m looking for Teburoro Timeon. Somebody said he went up to this level and maybe you’ve seen him.”
Dabeet lifted his head from his knees, not having to pretend to feel despondent. “All I’ve been looking at is my knees,” he said. “But you’re the only person I heard walk by.”
“Get back to … whatever…” said Gusti. “Or don’t. You may be right about Indiana.
I’d rather be there myself.”
Dabeet shook his head. “Everybody had a choice at the end of the war.”
“Some of us thought we’d have a brilliant military career,” said Gusti, “instead of being stuck in a near-Earth station babysitting a bunch of innumerate children.”
Since Dabeet had a better understanding of higher mathematics than Gusti, he was pretty sure that gibe didn’t apply to him.
Gusti walked away, continuing to pass along the corridor. He didn’t stop to open any of the barracks doors, as if it didn’t occur to him that the child he sought might be in one of the rooms. Then again, the children were not supposed to be able to open barracks doors without having their palms authorized.
Maybe the system was supposed to work that way. But Monkey had read the transcripts of the trials of Hyrum Graff and others after the war, and among the details she thought she remembered reading was a document that included a code-number override to Dragon Army barracks. And since it had worked, everybody assumed that what they had been told about station security was true.
But what if it wasn’t? Dabeet got up from the floor and walked along the corridor in the direction he had been going before, toward the upshaft. He stopped at the first door he came to, which was definitely not Dragon Army’s barracks door, and entered the same code into the virtual keypad.
The door opened.
Was the code a universal override?
Dabeet closed the door and went along to the next barracks door. Since the whole length of each barracks ran parallel to the corridor on the opposite side from the hidden service corridors, the distance from one door to the next was considerable. And, just as with the service corridors, the curvature of the wheel of the station made it so that two barracks entrances were the most that were ever visible at a time.