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Flock of Birds
The scientist pulled up a chair to the interrogation table. Across from him sat an alien with unblinking, mirror-like eyes.
“Why’d you come here?” the scientist asked.
“Where is here?” the alien replied in its strange, sing-song voice.
“Nevada. America. Earth. Milky way. The universe is a big place. Why choose us?”
“I wasn’t going to choose you, until you shot me down.”
The scientist repressed a scowl.
“Don’t feel bad,” the alien said. “There are a lot of flying things in this universe. Seeing as you can’t fly, it’s only natural to try and bring things down to your level.”
The scientist chuckled. “We’re more interested in you than the birds.”
“Yet here I am in the birds’ nest.”
The scientist coughed awkwardly and returned his attention to the papers in the file. “Can you tell me where you’re from?”
The alien frowned. At least, it looked like it was frowning. “You can try and make me. I am prepared to commit suicide before divulging that information.”
The scientist turned slowly in his chair to look at the two-way mirror behind him. It spat his own uncertainty back at him. “Why?” he asked.
“Too much of a risk,” the alien replied simply.
“There’s no risk to sharing, let me assure you. Shooting you down was an honest mistake. We can all move forward from here.”
The alien considered the scientist’s words. “My species possesses many abilities you do not. Unfortunately, reading minds is not one of them. Perhaps if it were, I could ascertain your true intentions.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“The death of my species.”
“Do you really think we could do that?”
The alien shrugged. At least, it looked like a shrug. “Who’s to say?”
“I can say with some authority that we can’t. When we shot your craft down, we did it with missiles. Organic chemistry. Propellants. Not magic. Not mind reading.” The alien’s mirror-like eyes looked bored somehow. “Look, what I’m saying is that even if we wanted to destroy a hypothetical alien race--which we don’t--we don’t have the tools to do it.”
“So you say.” The alien leaned over the table, its grey skin glittering in the harsh fluorescent light. “Have you ever heard of a relativity bomb?”
The scientist tapped his fingers on the table for a minute. Then, abruptly, he stood up and walked out of the room.
On the other side of the two-way mirror, a group of military personnel in lab coats and dress greens glared at the alien. Rows of computer screens cast their faces and medals in pale blue light.
As a single organism, they whirled around to stare at the scientist. The scrolling rolls of data pouring down the computer screens made their eyes twinkle.
The scientist asked, “Have we ever heard of a relativity bomb?”
The others shook their heads as one.
The scientist nodded, then marched back into the interrogation room. The harsh light overwhelmed his eyes for a moment. He felt sorry for the alien, whose eyes were at least twice the size of his.
“What’s a relativity bomb?” he asked.
“A purely hypothetical device.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. It travels faster than the speed of light and has the capability to destroy any planet it strikes.”
“Does your species have such a device?”
“No.” The alien raised an eyebrow. At least, it raised the part of its face where an eyebrow would have been. “Do you?”
“No.”
The alien sat back in its chair. “Then we are at an impasse. I can’t be certain you don’t have it, and you can’t be certain I don’t have it.”
“I’m telling you, we don’t,” the scientist said, frustration welling up in his voice, “We want a peaceful solution here.”
“What if peace is not an option?”
The scientist passed a long, wary look at the two-way mirror. “What’s that mean?”
“I mean, we are two souls trapped in a dark night. There are monsters out there, as well as a few others like us. Perhaps if we call out, we will find the ones like us. But perhaps all that calling will just attract the monsters to our doorstep.” The alien peeled back its lips, exposing row after row of razor-sharp teeth. “Do you think I’m like you? Or am I one of the monsters?”
The scientist stood up slowly and backed out of the room. The alien cooed like a bird and smirked.
The door slid shut.
“Why’d you come here?” the scientist asked.
“Where is here?” the alien replied in its strange, sing-song voice.
“Nevada. America. Earth. Milky way. The universe is a big place. Why choose us?”
“I wasn’t going to choose you, until you shot me down.”
The scientist repressed a scowl.
“Don’t feel bad,” the alien said. “There are a lot of flying things in this universe. Seeing as you can’t fly, it’s only natural to try and bring things down to your level.”
The scientist chuckled. “We’re more interested in you than the birds.”
“Yet here I am in the birds’ nest.”
The scientist coughed awkwardly and returned his attention to the papers in the file. “Can you tell me where you’re from?”
The alien frowned. At least, it looked like it was frowning. “You can try and make me. I am prepared to commit suicide before divulging that information.”
The scientist turned slowly in his chair to look at the two-way mirror behind him. It spat his own uncertainty back at him. “Why?” he asked.
“Too much of a risk,” the alien replied simply.
“There’s no risk to sharing, let me assure you. Shooting you down was an honest mistake. We can all move forward from here.”
The alien considered the scientist’s words. “My species possesses many abilities you do not. Unfortunately, reading minds is not one of them. Perhaps if it were, I could ascertain your true intentions.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“The death of my species.”
“Do you really think we could do that?”
The alien shrugged. At least, it looked like a shrug. “Who’s to say?”
“I can say with some authority that we can’t. When we shot your craft down, we did it with missiles. Organic chemistry. Propellants. Not magic. Not mind reading.” The alien’s mirror-like eyes looked bored somehow. “Look, what I’m saying is that even if we wanted to destroy a hypothetical alien race--which we don’t--we don’t have the tools to do it.”
“So you say.” The alien leaned over the table, its grey skin glittering in the harsh fluorescent light. “Have you ever heard of a relativity bomb?”
The scientist tapped his fingers on the table for a minute. Then, abruptly, he stood up and walked out of the room.
On the other side of the two-way mirror, a group of military personnel in lab coats and dress greens glared at the alien. Rows of computer screens cast their faces and medals in pale blue light.
As a single organism, they whirled around to stare at the scientist. The scrolling rolls of data pouring down the computer screens made their eyes twinkle.
The scientist asked, “Have we ever heard of a relativity bomb?”
The others shook their heads as one.
The scientist nodded, then marched back into the interrogation room. The harsh light overwhelmed his eyes for a moment. He felt sorry for the alien, whose eyes were at least twice the size of his.
“What’s a relativity bomb?” he asked.
“A purely hypothetical device.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. It travels faster than the speed of light and has the capability to destroy any planet it strikes.”
“Does your species have such a device?”
“No.” The alien raised an eyebrow. At least, it raised the part of its face where an eyebrow would have been. “Do you?”
“No.”
The alien sat back in its chair. “Then we are at an impasse. I can’t be certain you don’t have it, and you can’t be certain I don’t have it.”
“I’m telling you, we don’t,” the scientist said, frustration welling up in his voice, “We want a peaceful solution here.”
“What if peace is not an option?”
The scientist passed a long, wary look at the two-way mirror. “What’s that mean?”
“I mean, we are two souls trapped in a dark night. There are monsters out there, as well as a few others like us. Perhaps if we call out, we will find the ones like us. But perhaps all that calling will just attract the monsters to our doorstep.” The alien peeled back its lips, exposing row after row of razor-sharp teeth. “Do you think I’m like you? Or am I one of the monsters?”
The scientist stood up slowly and backed out of the room. The alien cooed like a bird and smirked.
The door slid shut.
I've seen this kind of idea explored before in short stories, and I think it's an idea that can be got across well enough in a minific. Plus, the Area 51 grounding let's me quickly and completely picture the larger scene without you having to describe much of anything. So, concept-wise, I think this is great.
Where I'm tripping up a little is in how you get to the impasse itself. Like, why is the scientist so hung up on the alien's home planet? It seems to me that a normal response, whether from a trained interrogator or just from a basically curious person, to "I'll kill myself if you push at that question" would be to say "Okay, then can you tell me about this other thing instead?" and to try to find some safer ground to build a rapport and satisfy scientific curiosity. You know, tell me about your species' biology, are there other intelligent alien races... at least try to find something important that the alien might be willing to share, and to get a dialogue going (whether the alien would share is another matter, of course; I'm just hung up on the scientist's latching on to "where are you from?" to the exclusion of all else). And then at the end we go straight into the whole Dark Forest theory without ever explaining why it can't be solved for this particular contact. Because, you know, contact has already happened, so the dark forest doesn't really apply anymore; this is two species side-eyeing one another in the shadows, each (well, at least one) trying to decide if the other is an apex predator. Which isn't to say that the larger circumstance can't tie into the theory, but that it's more tangential to the question (especially considering, again, the arbitrariness of focusing on "where are you from?" in the first place) than you're presenting this as.
Anyway, that was a whole lot of words to say "if you tie the conversation to the dilemma a little more cleanly, I think it'd land even better." This is still an enjoyable little bit of back-and-forth, and one I enjoyed reading!
Where I'm tripping up a little is in how you get to the impasse itself. Like, why is the scientist so hung up on the alien's home planet? It seems to me that a normal response, whether from a trained interrogator or just from a basically curious person, to "I'll kill myself if you push at that question" would be to say "Okay, then can you tell me about this other thing instead?" and to try to find some safer ground to build a rapport and satisfy scientific curiosity. You know, tell me about your species' biology, are there other intelligent alien races... at least try to find something important that the alien might be willing to share, and to get a dialogue going (whether the alien would share is another matter, of course; I'm just hung up on the scientist's latching on to "where are you from?" to the exclusion of all else). And then at the end we go straight into the whole Dark Forest theory without ever explaining why it can't be solved for this particular contact. Because, you know, contact has already happened, so the dark forest doesn't really apply anymore; this is two species side-eyeing one another in the shadows, each (well, at least one) trying to decide if the other is an apex predator. Which isn't to say that the larger circumstance can't tie into the theory, but that it's more tangential to the question (especially considering, again, the arbitrariness of focusing on "where are you from?" in the first place) than you're presenting this as.
Anyway, that was a whole lot of words to say "if you tie the conversation to the dilemma a little more cleanly, I think it'd land even better." This is still an enjoyable little bit of back-and-forth, and one I enjoyed reading!
As the kids say:
That escalated quickly. Again, though, that's pretty much intrinsic to the minific format...
I found myself wondering about the present tech level of Earth in this story, though. Does humanity have some form of star-to-star transportation? If not, it seems silly to fixate on the location of the alien planet when there's so much else--like how to travel from star to star--that could be of interest...
Mike
That escalated quickly. Again, though, that's pretty much intrinsic to the minific format...
I found myself wondering about the present tech level of Earth in this story, though. Does humanity have some form of star-to-star transportation? If not, it seems silly to fixate on the location of the alien planet when there's so much else--like how to travel from star to star--that could be of interest...
Mike