“You saw us develop nuclear weapons,” someone said, “and use them… and yet you did not see fit to step in then?”
“But when,” said the figures reasonably, “would have been the right time to step in? Appalling though nuclear weapons are, they are responsible for fewer deaths than the invention of the simple sword. Should we have intervened then? No, the time was right when two factors concurred: when you became technologically capable of wiping yourselves out, and when you had the intellectual capability to understand your place in the universe and the rightness of our need to intervene.”
A silence lengthened, and Allen found himself standing. “Why,” he asked, “are we here? Why have you chosen us to tell all this to?”
He sat back down, frustrated that he had not asked more — like, what had happened aboard the plane, with the silver dancing spider; just what had the Serene done to him and, presumably, to everyone else in the amphitheatre?
“You were chosen,” said the golden figure before Allen, “because the Serene need human representatives to assist with the many changes that will affect Earth over the coming decades. You were chosen, all ten thousand of you, because you were assessed and found to possess the attributes required by the Serene.”
Someone asked, “Which are?”
Again Allen gained the impression that the figure before him was smiling. It gestured with an outstretched hand and said simply, “Chief of all, you posses humanity, an empathy with your fellow humans, a common decency. You are, if you like, representatives of your race.”
Allen stood again. “But what exactly do you want with us?”
The figure inclined its head, a gesture he recalled from the figure which had visited him back in Uganda. “One day a month, maybe two, you will be required to work for the Serene, to travel the world and, in time — when we have established settlements on other planets of the solar system — to those too. You will liaise with people working in various positions on the many projects we are establishing to bring change to the world, whether these projects are political, technological, scientific, social… For the duration you are working for the Serene, you will be unaware of what you are doing. Those days will be, as it were, blank; you will have no memories of what you did, who you met, or what you talked about.”
Someone objected, “But that’s wholly unreasonable!”
“But necessary,” said the golden figure. “There will be those amongst your kind who are opposed to the Serene and the changes we are instigating. If you retained awareness of the work you do, you could be compromised, endangered. It will be safer, for yourselves and for the success of the various projects undertaken, for you to work in ignorance. However,” the figure went on, “those amongst you who do not wish to lend themselves to our ends, who feel they cannot work within this remit, are free to absent themselves from proceedings.”
Seconds elapsed. Allen considered what they had been told, thought through what he was allowing himself to do, and did not demur. He swept his gaze around the auditorium. Here and there he saw figures disappear, absorbed back into the padding which cradled them. Someone nearby was thus retracted, his place taken by a seamless black void.
The golden figure went on, “Very well. Thirty of you from a total of ten thousand have decided not to take part in what lies ahead. They will be returned to their lives without prejudice, but without any knowledge of what occurred here today.”
“And the rest of us?” someone asked.
“Shortly, you too will be returned. You will retain memories of what happened here, and in a little under a month you will be contacted.”
“And will we be… compensated for the work we do for the Serene? Many of us have jobs which…”
The golden figure interrupted. “You will not be paid, as such, to work as representatives of the Serene; however, nor will your work situations be prejudiced.” The figure spread its arms. “In time, the nature of work as you know it will change, as your society changes. With limitless energy, with advanced computer systems, with much production automated, you will find that you have increased leisure time… which in turn will bring its own demands.”
A silence developed, and then someone asked, “Why should we trust you? Why should we take on trust everything you have said? For all we know, you might be the front for some hostile alien invasion.”
“I assure you that that is not the case, as you know…” And, again, the intimation that the figure was smiling. And the representative of the Serene was right: Allen knew, somehow without knowing quite how, that the invasion was wholly peaceable.
The African woman stood up again. “You said that there are other races that you’ve helped, out there in the universe… But when will we meet them? When will the human race be allowed out of the solar system to mix with these other races?”
He looked across at the woman, admiring her foresight.
“It will happen in time,” the golden figure said. “You are not prepared, quite yet, but that will change. One day you will meet beings similar to yourselves, and many wholly dissimilar, which inhabit the breadth of the galaxy.”
Allen looked at the African. Her mouth was open in wonder.
The golden figure finished, “Shortly you will meet individually with us, and any last questions will be answered.”
Seconds later the golden figures fade from sight. The panoramic view of the Saharan city vanished, to be replaced with the golden glowing disc, and suddenly it felt as if he was being absorbed into the very fabric of the padding around him.
He was back in darkness, with a golden strip glowing on the floor before him.
He was eased into a standing position, and stepped towards the lighted strip. He followed the light, but this time walked only a few paces before he found himself once again taken up by the padding. He sat, waiting, and a second later a golden figure manifested itself before him.
As earlier, in the lounge back at the national park, Allen made out flashes and pulses of light within the body of the figure, and again he wondered at the nature of this ‘self-aware entity’…
The figure reached out towards Allen’s right hand. It held something — a band of gold the identical colouration of itself — and slipped it over his hand. Allen looked down. A slim bangle sat on his wrist, warm to the touch. As he stared, it seemed that the band was absorbed into his flesh. Seconds later it had vanished.
The figure spoke. “Mere monitoring devices. Do not be alarmed. They also allow us to communicate with you.”
Allen said, “You said that you’d answer any final questions?”
The figure inclined its head. “That is so.”
“In that case, what happened to me, and presumably to the others out there, when time seemed to stop and I saw a silver…?”
The figure raised a hand. “It was not as you assumed. You saw what you thought was a spider, felt it invade you… This was your mind, making sense, as it were, of sensual inputs which were beyond its comprehension. It merely substituted images, sensations, that you could readily comprehend.”
“Then what did happen to me?”
“Your mind was audited,” the golden figure told him. “Your identity was accessed, recorded, and found suitable. The exact process of what we did would be beyond your scientific comprehension.”
“And… and how you managed to stop the entire human race from committing violence? Presumably that, too, would be beyond my puny intelligence to comprehend?”
“Intelligence does not come into the equation,” it said. “Rather, you — and I speak here of ‘you’ as the human race — you do not have the required scientific knowledge to understand the process whereby the Serene facilitated charea, as we term it, a word allied to the Hindu concept of ahimsa. Suffice to say that on a level of reality beyond the sub-atomic, there are fundamental particles — which you call strings — which are accessible and are… the only word I can find that remotely suggests the term we use, is ‘programmable.’ Through this readjustment of fundamental reality, the Serene brought about charea.”