You're in something that reminds you of a luxurious jumbo jet.  A pretty Polynesian princess type girl is staring at you attentively from over the back of the seat in front of you.  On the cuff of her jacket is a paired circle of green shapes and blue shapes.

Behind her a step, and using up most of the twelve foot clearance is a thin, gray-skinned, and snouted humanoid with luminescent green eyes.

Behind them, you can see a number of bright young people of varying genomes in similar jackets, and dotted amongst them some adults.

"It seems that this is not a medical emergency the Galacticans have dropped in my lap."  The alien says with that strange mix of almost human sounds, and inhuman touches in his voice.  "Welcome to the Hope of Earth.  My name is...problematic. Simply call me Emmissary Four."

"I'm Stella Harjeeling.  Chess grandmaster, bronze hurdles, and working toward my undergrad in optronic computing.  My parent is Councilperson Harjeeling."

There is some noise at the back of the crowd.

The shapes are irregular.

"K*lled?" The alien questions sharply. "Translation f*ntion check."  It babbles a bit in its own language which is full of low whoops, whistles, and hisses.

"Killed?" Stella echoes.

A man pushes his way up through the crowd.  He looks ill-at-ease, and he is attempting to exert his authority.

"You're a stowaway, and a non-secure person, and under the authority of the United Planet..."

"Kevin Lindsholm. This is my ship although it is named for your planet. Tom Day is to have freedom of it while he is aboard." The alien speaks.

There is a long pause.

"Lets play question and answer.  You get three questions, and I get three questions." Stella says brightly into the vaccuum.

"Stella, you have to share. What about us?"  A young male voice from behind her complains as the rest of the young adults surge forward.

"Thats a Nazi uniform. Waffen SS, although I don't recognize the medal on his chest with the bell on it.  I don't think the Nazi's had a medal with a bell..."  One of the guys speaks.  "Piotr Radicheev, masters in twentieth century history, and I've climbed three of the Big Seven, on Earth that is."

They ask you how you travel, the nature of each world you've visited, and how you're certain that your story is true and that you're not just a stowaway who's been hypno-drugged into believing some fantasy.  The last question comes from a guy with a cold sneer on his face.  He's obviously not well liked, and just as obvious no one wants to get in his way.

"Jacob Riley. Harvard Law. UPC Agent, Tanto Class."

"In order of the questions given, I travel (I presume you mean between worlds) it seems that I travel via a medium called 'Scriff' which is as near as I can tell scientifically speaking a psychoactive particle between universes that enables a being to move from one world to another after their death.

====This brings a buzz as a number of people try to debate their theories of the nature of reality.  Its a very esoteric discussion with bits of quantum mechanics and other theories tossed in.  But the others hush them.

The nature of each world I've visited....the first world was an ice world, wherein I met another person like myself called Michael Devries,

====So you're not singular. Stella notes.

 who explained who and what I am.  We were killed in an avalanche.  The second world was an anagram of my own world with subtle variations and the presence of psionic activity.

====This provokes a ferocious arguement between those who accept certain low-grad psionic effects, and those who think its hokum.  Lindsholm points out that the UPC has officially created a commission to look into the matter, and that quells the debate.

 I attempted to take advantage of the differences between worlds to amass a fortune (to equip myself properly)

====You see a number of shocked looks.

 and caught the notice of the local authorities via some kind of psionic detection.

====This pleases those shocked.

 I never did find out how.  The third world was circa 2030, with transhuman genetics.  Psychomathematical equations (Sky Equations) determined that humanity was likely to enter a dire dark age, thus a band of ascended humans attempted to create a new ideal using mythology and comic books by acting as super heroes.  I helped them find another band that were trying to create a dire future for humanity; and was killed in the attempt at stopping them.  I was also subject to the ascension technique.  The final world before this was a world in which the Nazis and Japanese Imperium divided the world between them due to a lack of an organized resistance.  There were several versers there, one of which I teamed up with to obtain some equipment to help the resistance.  He was killed.  I wanted to do some good there before I was killed again so I went toward a city hoping to find a library.  There was no civilian traffic so I used a uniform I...aquired from an SS officer in the struggle with my compatriot and then went on a 'suicide' mission against their equivalent of Dr. Mengele who was conducting even more horrific experiments than in my timeline.  I got him

====They like this part of your story very much.

....but in the process...died yet again and ended up here.

Regarding the last question...how do you know you're not all currently dreaming in a mass induced hallucination to provide fuel for artificial intelligences in lieu of solar power? Yes, that doesn't sound logical.

The reason I know this is not a fantasy is three fold; first, I possess great knowledge of hypnotic and mental techniques and know what to look for.  At least in my timeline, it requires great subtly to master such techniques...a 'hypnodrug' would not be sufficient to create the amalgam of my memories.

===="We could do it here, but anyone learned in the techniques could quickly unmask the situation.  I can do it in ten minutes.  My professor at Buenas Aires can do it with 95% accuracy within one minute.  I'm Sergio Valenicia, linguist and pschyology intern, and practitioner of what is frequently called Brazilian judo."



  Memory wipe and transfer, if you have such a technology could potentially do it, but that is unlikely given the fact that anyone wishing to do so would know I am more than likely to be subjected to scans of a superior technological nature.

====No one claims to have this tech, although Lindsholm looks a bit more saturnine than usual.

Second, while I am unsure of the technical state of this world; my initial reaction is that I may possess at least some technological artifacts anomolous to human technology in this timeline.

===="You do. The physiological changes in your body that are still ongoing would not be possible for these humans to replicate."  Emmissary Four speaks.

And third, because the first memory I have of this world is 'bubble universe' which I am pretty sure even in the most advanced technological society is hard to create; ergo leaning more toward the theory of trans-universal transit than 'someone playing an extremely advanced fraternity trick.

But honestly? Deal with reality as you experience it...ultimately, that is all you can do.

This test, is it a test for all of humanity or merely the people here?

"It is an Admittance Test for Humanity." E4 says.

What is the primary purpose of this school?

"They won't tell us.  We get chosen, five hundred of us by whatever means we like, and taken halfway across the galaxy to the School of a Dozen Doors, and we meet some alien races also taking the test, but THEY WON'T TELL US WHAT THE TEST IS!"  Stella shouts the last bit with an exasperated look at E4.

"Correct, except its only a small fraction of the galaxy, not even a thousand lightyears." E4 replies calmly.

And...wh" Tom almost asks 'Who are the galatics' but that's really a wasted question, since they're clearly, at the least, 'the guys in charge, so instead he asks,"at are the basic ethical codes and goals of the Galactics?"

===="A most interesting question, Tom Day.  We believe they are, and they claim to be benevolent, but they have also engaged in the most remarkable cruelties.  Perhaps this will help you explain better.  I know of five ranks of Galactic society.  The Galacticans are above those ranks.  We, the Emmissaries are on Rank One. Your kind, are not on the ladder yet.  I have never met a Galactican, but some of our greatest saints and heroes have.  By all accounts its an overwhelming, life-changing experience.  They are simply more than me, more than you.  We appear wise and powerful to the humans of this world, but I feel simple when I talk to many of the rank two species.  And I cried like a child to leave the presence of a rank three species the one time I was so blessed.  I felt like a small child again, barely walking, and in the presence of my mother whom I adored with all the uncomplicated love of a small child.  You see, we, the Emmissaries as you call us, and you, the Humans are not that different. Granted, we've had hyperspace and star colonies for a thousand years, but we're still much like you.  But, those above...."  He smiles you think. "Sometiems they insprire love, and sometimes they make my brain hurt."

PT

PT

====So you're not singular. Stella notes.

====You see a number of shocked looks.

===="We could do it here, but anyone learned in the techniques could quickly unmask the situation.  I can do it in ten minutes.  My professor at Buenas Aires can do it with 95% accuracy within one minute.  I'm Sergio Valenicia, linguist and pschyology intern, and practitioner of what is frequently called Brazilian judo."

===="You do. The physiological changes in your body that are still ongoing would not be possible for these humans to replicate."  Emmissary Four speaks.

"They won't tell us.  We get chosen, five hundred of us by whatever means we like, and taken halfway across the galaxy to the School of a Dozen Doors, and we meet some alien races also taking the test, but THEY WON'T TELL US WHAT THE TEST IS!"  Stella shouts the last bit with an exasperated look at E4.

"Correct, except its only a small fraction of the galaxy, not even a thousand lightyears." E4 replies calmly.

===="A most interesting question, Tom Day.  We believe they are, and they claim to be benevolent, but they have also engaged in the most remarkable cruelties.  Perhaps this will help you explain better.  I know of five ranks of Galactic society.  The Galacticans are above those ranks.  We, the Emmissaries are on Rank One. Your kind, are not on the ladder yet.  I have never met a Galactican, but some of our greatest saints and heroes have.  By all accounts its an overwhelming, life-changing experience.  They are simply more than me, more than you.  We appear wise and powerful to the humans of this world, but I feel simple when I talk to many of the rank two species.  And I cried like a child to leave the presence of a rank three species the one time I was so blessed.  I felt like a small child again, barely walking, and in the presence of my mother whom I adored with all the uncomplicated love of a small child.  You see, we, the Emmissaries as you call us, and you, the Humans are not that different. Granted, we've had hyperspace and star colonies for a thousand years, but we're still much like you.  But, those above...."  He smiles you think. "Sometiems they insprire love, and sometimes they make my brain hurt."

He nods.

"I see your point, and its one that the Committee spent considerable worry on.  Almost certainly there is someone or multiple someone's on board the Hope who harbor plans against the benevolent rule of the UPC.  We searched their backgrounds out as thorougly as we could, but many of them were attached to important people.  They were apprentices to some of the best people on the planet, or children of such, or outright powers on their own.  We naturally chose the best we could, but that means keeping a control on them could be difficult.  We did cull out a number for being politically unreliable."

He pauses.

"Let me discuss this with my fellows in the Guidance Council.  I think we can agree in principle that this proposal of yours seems a good idea, but I'm uncertain how far I should trust you."

Once he leaves, the others rush in with questions.

"Do you have a sample of scriff?  What is your home universes most popular theory of universal origins? Can you look at this timeline of the last thousand years and identify any discrepancies between your home timeline and ours?"

"Stalin was a monster.  I don't know..." Stella begins.

"Voting in the old Soviet Union was perfunctory.  Its one of the benefits of the JPG, or Joint Powers Group.  Each side taught the other side something.  We created nationalized health care based on their system, and utilized industrial planning.  They picked up the vote, and other basic freedoms such as the freedom to speak, as long as its not hate speech."  The young guy smiles.  "Sam Cooper. History major, author of The Rise of the Planet-State which is a children's popular history for teenyboppers.  And I practise Kendo."

Your last question, the Emmissary gets involved in which makes it much harder.  He tries to build up from universal constants to describe your time, and convert it into his.  Finally, the others lose their patience, and consult your watch.  It freaks them out more than a little bit.

"Your 'second' is 94% of our second.  We have a hundred seconds to a minute."

After all that is done, the answer turns out to be 'roughly two days'.

PT

Sam Cooper enthusiastically agrees, and notes that there are several other sword martial artists on the ship.  One is an instructor in Ninjato, and another is a Roman reenactor Legionairre.

"The motivation for the JPG, um, we outgrew our antiquated nationalist passions and realized we were all one brethren."  Stella says.  "Is not peace better than war?"

You look at their Supreme Court Records.  The language is similar in many respects to the US Constitution.

  Talking about your religion without an invitation is illegal.  While there is private property, tax rates for most people who are not on relief range from sixty to eighty percent.  Its also generally accepted that certain things need to be nationalized for the good of all.  Wintertime strikes by fuel source companies are forbidden.  Hate speech is outlawed.  This includes mentioning that someone is fat.  Single barrel shotguns and swords are legal.  The limits on press freedom are more like the UK than the USA.  The gov't has the right in certain issues or cases to get a court order allowing preemptive censoring.

However, all these limitations take place against a background of many people saying how unfortunate they are, but necessary.

Emmissary Four smiles, you think.  "When we think that a civilization might be of use to itself, others, and the greater galaxy we offer them a chance.  The type of chance depends on them.  For your race, it is the House of a Dozen Doors."

"Consider this, Tom Day, your attitudes that your race has toward privacy are commendable in many regards.  But of what use would they be to a race that was telepathic?  And what if you were to meet such a race, what then?"

E4 continues to be obscure, but finally you get a little out of him.  "We like things that work, that offer beauty.  What beauty is in your case, I don't know.  Perhaps if you got a haircut."  It takes a few seconds for you to realize, but an alien just teased you about your looks.

You get the dossiers.  It quickly asks you a question.  What is your definition of 'religious fanatic'?

They are rotating people in and out of the general area you are in to ask questions, although Stella (as daughter of a Councilperson and the first person to talk to you) is staying.  They call back and advance the instructor and the reenactor up to the front of the line.

The instructor is the first teacher you've talked to.  He's in his fifties.  He bows.

"It would be an honor to practise with you.  Are you wishing to simply spar, or do you wish training in Ninjutsu?"

Emmissary Four thinks a bit. "An unusual question.  I find I have to be vague for fear of giving you too many useful sidelights on yours, or simply because others are so alien.  However, the Darvak, and the K'li'ti'na recently succeeded.  The Darvak are small, physically weak, not terribly bright, and mammalian and the K are an imposing physically and mentally insectoid species.  The K nearly wiped out the Darvak at the Valley of Accord test site.  But the Darvak were able to create tensions between the various High Mothers of the K so that the K in turn almost wiped themselves out.  The end result was that the two created a Modality Symbiosis.  The K lead in all manners military, logical, and industrial.  Each K is attended by at least a dozen Darvak who, ah, 'breed like rabbits'.  This causes the K need for servitors to be appeased.  But the Darvak control the governing structure by their votes with the K not being enfranchised because K High Mothers in certain circumstances cannot compromise.

My species is negotiating trade arrangements for supplying the new colony worlds the Darvak and the K have been given by the Galacticans.  Hopefully, we can beat out the Selkie who are nasty clever at being merchants."

He listens to your next reply, and then speaks.

"The Mricha are powerful telepaths, but they simply do not understand the privacy concerns non-telepaths have.  They view it as deception/stupidity or deception/evil or nonsense/nonsense. We have tried to explain it to them, but have given up for fear of provoking greater contempt.  They've been Level one like us for ten millenia, and perhaps they never will reach level two."

You get thirty-five people back from the Sky Equations. The confidence level on them runs from 42% with Sam Cooper: Neo-Jeffy to Kevin Lindsholme: UPC Benevolence at 65% to the Reenactor: Mars at 78% to an unknown guy named Jay Winston with a very incomplete dossier at 94%.

You talk with Stella Harjeeling a bit, and gather that she is the closest thing to a princess you've met.  When she casually mentions taking her herd of ponies she got for her twelth birthday out for a ride in the private park you know it.  She's uncertain of the official line of how well things are going.  She never says it, but there is a shadow in her face and her eyes.  Its doubt and fear.

You practise with the Ninjutsu instructor, Aroyo Yamashirii.  There is a small room used by ten people at a time for exercise.  Its tight quarters.  Your instructor tosses you a ball about eight inches across.  Its heavy, and you catch it.

"Stand on it."  He smiles.  "Balance is where we begin. We will breathe later."

He gives you a diabolical grin.  "Breathing is very hard."

Your training with the reenactor, Luke Gracchi, a worshipper of Mars, is more straightforward.  He points out each piece of armor, and their use.  He then puts it on you, incorrectly, and then lets you figure out the correct way to put it on by the expedient of hitting you with a stick until you get it right.

"Hold your shield too high, and"  Whack. Across the thighs.  "That would be a sword blade and your femoral artery. You'd be now dying."  He hits you hard enough that it really stings, and maybe bruises a little.

E4 is agreeable to a nickname.  He seems curious as to what you will come up with.

There are interesting gaps in the data.  He was arrested for arson, and assault.  He broke bail, but no crimes are listed although he was out for a year.  He threw a high school teacher from a window.  No punishment is listed.  His brain scans are clearly different than the others in the group.  No inference is drawn in the data from that.  For the last five years, despite a continuing record of minor and major crimes before that, he has committed no crime on record.

The Sky Equations admit to considerable error potential, but after grumbling a bit, they comply.  Stella Harjeeling is near the top, as is your Ninjutsu instructor.  Sam Cooper is eighteenth on the list despite being a probable Neo-Jeffy agent.

Eventually, you are told to stop, and then the breathing begins.

"Good, good."  Aroyo pauses.  "Your breathing is...out of tune with your new body.  It changes.  You must change your habits with it."

He sits down across from you and watches you for an hour as you breathe.

"This requires study on my part."

There is definite enjoyment on Luke's part, but it seems to be part of the procedure rather like a drill sergeant calling recruits 'maggot'.  He is trying to make you unflinching in the face of pain and danger.

And you do learn how to put the pieces of your armor on correctly, and very quickly.

"Pain teaches.  The ideal pain is enough to outrage the mind, but not enough to permanently damage the legionairre.  Thus the legionairre learns three valuable lessons.  One, how to do the job.  Two, pain is nothing. Three....I am your worst nightmare, and it would be better to die gutslashed on the battlefield than disapoint me!"

Sam looks startled when you ask.

"I know little about it." He lies blandly. "But as I understand its a philosophy inspired by Thomas Jefferson.  Its American Nationalism.  Some reactionary elements feel that joining the UPC was a mistake."

Jay, or Mr. 94%, does not want to talk to you.  He gives you an empty stare when he sees you, and walks on.

Taking a more thorough look at it has you craning your neck, back and back, and then plopping down by accident into the grass.  You hear a giggle to your right.  Its Stella, and she's fallen as well.  So have many of the others.

As you gawk at the megascale shape, you decide it looks like two platters that might meet on the outside, but you can't see that far.  However they do have a hole in the middle.  And if you've got the scale right, the size of each platter has to be measured in Astronomical Units.

You're pretty sure the UPC would claim dire necessity, and compare themselves to previous world empires and claim they were better, mostly.  And then they would list all the benefits they allow.

Still...

One could see that few people loved the UPC.

You find Kevin Lindsholme.  He's organizing getting everything off-loaded.  You get drafted into being a beast of burden along with everyone else he can rouse from a contemplative stupor (although there are several who seem to have sunk into some kind of funk).

Pretty soon there are piles of pallet loads of essentials and then non-essentials are gathered.  About this time, one of the students who you've never met meanders off the plane.  His face combines boredom and cruelty.  You recognize him.  He's the son of a 'governor' in Central Asia, and he combines sadism with elitism in a very old style.  Unfortunately, his flight to another star seems to be one of the deals the UPC had to make to keep everything together.

Finally, Kevin is ready for you as the football length dart floats upwards, and then...vanishes.

"Oh, well, yes, um..." He leans over and whispers in your ear. "In an earlier era, Jay would have been imprisoned, or simply shot.  Now, we control him.  And if we ever have a problem, we point Jay at the problem, and it goes away."

You find the Ninjutsu guy.  He is organizing a small group to carry dolly loads of gear to the school in the distance.  When he sees you, he grabs you, and puts you in charge of four other people.

You see a bit of self-organizing going on.  Also a few people just setting off on their own.  And the great mass of people is waiting for their leaders to lead them.

You and about twenty others start heading toward the school.  Kevin is at first flustered, and then designates your group 'Forward Recon One'.

Your teacher is willing to talk to you on the way to the school.

You arrive in front, and there are dozens of what looks like Victorian gingerbread houses all squished together with each house having a door.  Each one has a small 'yard' in front of it as well, often with a white picket fence.  All this adjoins the Great Lawn which one of your group with a laser measuring device assures you is a mile square.

"Any bright ideas?" Your Ninjutsu trainer asks.

"How about not so bright ideas? Cause I got a lot of them."  One of the kids pipes up which makes the group laugh nervously.

"I think I want to put you through some physical stress tests.  Have you run on a treadmill, and the like."  Your teacher murmurs in reply.

The group very smoothly, but with a few snickers repeat your orders back to you.  You get the feeling they are used to be collectively drilled.  The 'don't be a moron' surprises them a bit, but they like it.

You and Arroyo lead the way.  The rooms are not Victorian on the inside.  Instead, they are mostly bare with an occasional basic couch extruded from the wall.

Some one yells, and everyone clusters.

A guy points out a set of what looks like it might be a storage container.  This is helped by the way it says 'food' on the outside in well over forty languages.

It doesn't open.

Next to it is a small keyboard that extends from the wall.

"It has a high-level calculus problem on it."

PT

You remember one person knew twenty-five languages.  And there were others not as gifted, but still fairly remarkable.  Most people seem to know two languages as well--their native tongue and English.  A fair number know Mandarin in addition to that.

Each of the houses you have studied have 'food' lockers, and 'school supplies', 'basic industrial', 'raw materials' lockers as well.  They are all very plain.  Each one has ten rooms.

When Arroyo approaches the 'food' it asks him 'List all major pressure points in the human body.'  When he approaches the 'school supplies' it requests 'Explain the cultural similarities and differences between The 43 Samurai and Robin Hood.'.  When you approach 'school supplies' it asks 'Explain in detail the similarities between fascism and communism.'

In the center room of each house, there appears a hologram.

"My name is Miss Smith. Please state the course of study you wish to begin on."

The back door of four of the houses leads to a larger room.  Its the same room for all of the houses.  The third house you check has an additional door in the back wall.

When you toss a stick in, it vanishes.

Stepping through it feels like being versed out, as if you were rapidly ripped into itty, bitty tiny pieces.  And then put back together again.  You're aware the whole time, and it doesn't hurt.

The ground is black in the three foot square around the doorway you stepped through.  To your left, you see about three hundred square foot of the most intense gardening you've ever seen.  None of the plants you recognize, but you can clearly see design in the regularity of the different types.

An awning is above you, and you can see what looks like fiber optic cables running down from it.

In front of you is a table with precisely placed machine tools of strange form, and a bucket of what looks like 10w-40.

To your right are five different small buildings, none of the size suited for humans.  You see a corral between two of them.  In one part of the corral that you can see are hopping herbivores with short hair, and slitted eyes.

Behind you is a doorway standing on its own.

Its very warm here, with a good bit of humidity.

The whole tenth of an acre is surrounded by a low wall in a circle.  Not one bit of space is unused.

And stretching out from this circle are hundreds of other circles with little paths and gates between all of them.  In many of those circles, you can see a two foot tall, furred sort of humanoid being hard at work.
PT

It examines with deft and darting movements what you offer.  The industrial diamonds it discards with obvious disdain.  The jeans make it laugh, you think, but it takes them, and shoves an item to you.  The spoons and forks it experiments with before showing you its set of spoons and forks which are designed differently because each hand has two opposable thumbs.

Its adds its set of spoons and forks to the tray, and then trades you for yours.

It chitters quite a bit at your seed package, and gives you two, well...you haggle a bit,a nd it gives you three items for them.

You try Tom Day with it several times.  It seems to have the idea, but not the mouth.  Besides, it talks like a squirrel overdosed on pixie sticks.  Even if it said Tom Day, you're not sure you could understand it.

It hands you a slate, and draws two points, and some squiggly lines on it.  Its some sort of magnetic slate with iron filings for 'ink', and a magnet for a pen.

The device seems like an advanced etch-a-sketch with much finer control, but it seems able to save the scribbles as well which suggests some sort of computer.  Of course, that has problems too...

The alien looks at your drawings, pauses, and then wriggles its shoulders in some gesture.

It writes down several pages of notes for each device it gave you.

There is some form of alphabet.  Its simple, direct, and efficient.  No spacing is used.

You step through, and Lindsholme is waiting for you in a fearful state.  He calms when he sees you.

You see he is holding a Philly Cheese Steak sandwhich in his right hand.

Everyone is vastly interested in the devices, and begins playing with them.  One device shoots a narrow, pencil-thick column of air that can range from causing first degree burns to well below zero.  Kevin yells at them to use safety precautions, and to get a medic to 'put some burn cream on this idiots's hand.'

"I've sent two teams to circle the building, opposite directions. Do you know, there are 501 doors on this side of the building, so that's 501 ten room houses for a facade...the amount of people that could live in this area is just astounding.  Hundreds of millions on Earth have to be satisfied with a one-bedroom apartment or even a Snap-It Hut.  I'm getting pressure from some people who want to move out into their 'own' house. So far, I'm keeping everyone together, and expanding according to the search protocols you established. We've found one more door fifty houses down from here."  Kevin speaks as he leads you and Arroyo to a 'Food' box.  There is a line, but he cuts to the front.  The room is filled with all sorts of foods as people spill out of the communal room which has become a sit on the ground cafeteria.

He tags the box, and looks at you.

It asks a new question. "What are the twenty symbols in the Reji alphabet?"

PT

OOC: K.

IC:

Over the next week, you find a number of people reading Flatland.  Its not even remotely a majority, but everyone is feverishly busy.

They've discovered eight doors.  One of them leads to a Blue Place with lots of tunnels and blue people with what looks like very large guns.  People describe having strange dreams after meeting them.

Another leads to a quadruple canopy jungle with claims that there is a predator that can leap thirty feet.  This place is currently off-limits.

Most of the Reji devices have been figured out what they do.  They seem to be small powertools and farming implements.  But instead of a spade, you have an ultrasonic generator that can loosen soil, or vape a weed.

You've given several hours of classes on How Not To Be a Moron.

Arroyo has cracked the breathing problem, but since you're still adjusting he has decided to teach you an advanced form of breathing where you will be able to decide what effect you're trying to achieve, and just how to get there.  You're spending an hour a day sitting while you fingerroll blunt shuriken and breathing, or standing one legged on a ball while breathing.

While practising with Luke you discover a new capacity in your body.  You can receive pain information as numbers rather than as pain.  He thwacks you, and instead of hurting you hear 'Level Two, no permanent injury.'

Kevin has you studying the Reji script with the Linguistics guy, Marv Stendal.  Its your only chance to visit with him and learn a bit from him as he's fulltime on the language.  Miss Smith also teaches you.

Four more is correct.

Some people had dreams of being smothered in blue balloons.  Others dreamed of whispers in the dark.  One dreamed of making his doctoral presentation, but all the pages were blue, and there were no words on the pages.  The dreams were less frequent if they had some time awake after the mission.

The 'predator' circled them.  It seemed to be a pack.  It never got close, but they saw claw marks in trees that were at least an inch deep.  It jumped from tree to tree, very fast.  It or they made loud, roaring sounds reminiscent of a tiger or a lion.

Babylon Five? Whazzat? Is the response.

You try to search for internal programming, and spend the next three hours until someone shakes you watching an internal clock go tick-tick.  It was very meditative.

You're studying the Reji language.  It seems to have twenty sounds, and twenty symbols.  It feels very straightforward, and pared down.  It reminds you of something with its crisply logical structure.

You're wading through Basic Humanoid Body Structures.  It reminds you very much of university.

The Reji demonstrate after some trying why they don't like industrial diamonds.  The one you've met takes a chunk of coal from another Reji (trading for it), and transform it into a larger industrial diamond than any you've shown him.  Then he tosses it aside.

Mary Stendall wonders out loud if they have poetry.

One leads to a valley with a river in it.  One leads to a place with very tall buildings and an air too thin to breathe, and birds in the trees...the mission report gets a little confused here, and then it says 'we left as the birds swarmed us.'  One describes a land of hot, black rocks with tiny fungus growing out of the rocks.  Another describes an alien village 'for midgets', and says 'it felt old...older than old.'  Another led to a colored dessert with crystals in it and the description 'I always felt like I was looking over my shoulder there' and a description of their retreat as a windstorm arose and turned the dessert into gritty knives.

The doctoral presentation guy does, and he dreams of presenting his speech to a crowd of blue humanoids, inside a blue room, and with blue paper which he can read, but can't read at the same time.

The UPC guys do have drones, but they don't have many.  They are not sure this is worth a chance of losing a drone.

They like Babylon Five.  It appeals to their UPC mindset.

You pull up a display of your vitals, and then you lucid dream that you're in the NY Library...

There does seem to be a universal DNA element to it.  Once that gets going, you're starting to make more progress.  But there is another element in its very logical, and sparse, yet precise nature that reminds you of another language.

On your next visit, they show you a sonic screwdriver.  It vibrates the screw loose.  Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to do what Dr. Who could make it do.  They want something in trade for it.

The wind suddenly whips up a storm between you and the door.  The others with you are terrified of being sliced to death by the flying sand crystals.

And then you all hear a voice form from bits of noise out of the cloud.

"Fascinating.  I don't believe I am the being you were directing your conversation toward, but it held such depth of information that I had to flower.  I am a Sirieunx, a Level Two species according to the Galacticans classification, and you are...?"

The voice is friendly, coolly intellectual, and yet vibrates under its surface with restrained curiosity.

The doctoral researcher comes back partially colorblind.  He can't see anything but blue and shades of gray, and black.  He's not yelling at you, but you can tell he's not happy with you by the way he half-glares at you, or ignores you.

He does seem to be as a doctor puts it 'be able to distinguish between more shades of blue than any human ever tested.'

They send the drone.  It comes back damaged as if it had been chewed on.  This includes a part which should require over seven hundred pounds of crushing force to deform.  They are not sure they can retrieve the data from it or not.

They are a bit unhappy, but not with you since they figure if they'd sent a person that person would be now lunch.

The idea of the Psi Corps seems good to them at first....  They enjoy the other stories as well, but Bab-5 has a special resonance with them.  Kevin takes you aside after Star Wars, and asks you politely not to tell the story again.

"After all, whats so bad about this Darth Vader...?"  You're not sure if he's joking.

Readable text...yes.  Vitals fiddle with....to some degree.  You try, but the control buttons are slippery, and you find yourself pushing too hard sometimes....you wake from a trance with a fever of 108 F one time.  There is a 'help' manual.  No visual reprentation of your genome, but you do get a message...

"Genomic scans are scheduled to be added next spring in 2032.  Check back with Genecom for updates on your Ascension Program.  Call 1-800-%&^&(&_*(* for any questions."

The structure is very similar to any of your programming languages.  Very logical, precise, sparse, and defined.  You see what Mary Stendal meant when she said its not a language for poetry.

"By soul, do you mean the quantum pattern that is received or created, theories differ, by the brain?  What is 'kin'? 'Compatriots'? You imply multiplicity?  Meditative state? Do you have multiplicity of kin inside yourself? Fascinating, then you are simila to the Kjar who house a thousand 'minds' in one large mobile structure.  I see that you are water-based...can you engage in vibratory telepathy as this bandwidth is very slim...although the density of ideas is keeping me awake it would be easier if I could incorporate you into my collective mind.  As to your purpose, I am unaware. The Galacticans representative met my predecessor and told him he was a Level Two.  I've never met an aspirant species.  But I was told that if I came here, I might learn more, and find things of interest.  I see they were right.  So maybe thats your purpose...hmmm, I'm starting to babble...my flowering is almost complete...my collectivicity is starting to disintegrate at the very periphery...fascinating...focus, focus...it can't be directly with me as its all equal level species...no offense, I'm not sure why I'm two and you're zero...we seem equal..."

The tone of the windstorm changes becoming slightly calmer.

The doctoral researcher grudgingly accepts your apology.

The others stare at you when you suggest percussion instruments.

On the third week into the stay you've improved in legionary skills.  Luke is taking the opportunity to show you and several other 'recruits' how to dig a camp in miniature.

"It really is true that the barbarians were often defeated before battle because they saw the Roman's and how they dug.  Sweat now, and you bleed less later."

Your ninjutsu trainer has you breathing properly as he lays different weights on your body in varying patterns to simulate the changes in your body.  He's also started you on walking, and on endurance training.  The walking is on a balance beam, and the endurance training involves hanging from a bar by your hands for an hour...both while you breathe.  Unlike Luke, he's always calm and quiet, and for both of them, you're shaking like a leaf when you get finished.

But your new body design has you ready to go before you finish your shower afterwards.

Also, you note that the problems in the 'Food' container are getting harder.  Now, its 'List the seventeen major bacterial forms common to humanoids with internal organs, and describe the treatment for each.'  After writing two thousand words, and sweating for an hour of brainsweat, you get your submarine sandwhich and chips and a large coke.

Short and simple sentences are possible after three weeks of study.  There are still a lot of concepts that don't seem to translate very well.

You see small blue crystals start to fall out of the windstorm.

"I've considered the logical implications of your statements about the soul, about a Creator, about a species that is Individual but a Group, and that in itself is a Fray Yielding One.  I've heard of your type of specie, err species, but never met a Group.  My flowering will be full of these deductive understandings.  You may take one flower.  I do not know if the next version of me will be interested in talking to you or not.

This is near my end, and we may discuss what you like without changing my flowers.  But I have little time."

The wind dies further,and becomes gentle.  More chunks of stone fall out of the sky.

Luke notices your attention, and starts to teach you how to be the leader of a maniple, that is ten men even though only five are practising.

"Once you learn this, you can learn how to be a centurion. Follow me." He takes you to his room and pulls down two slim books. The titles are 'Small Unit Combat: USMJ' and 'The Heart of the Centurion'. "Read and heed."

The questions vary per person, and the difficulty is definitely going up.  For many people its near the edge of their capabilities, and for a few they are finding they have to go back to 'their' Miss Smith and study something extra to get lunch.

One person comments that the testing system must have a telepathic component because it just asked him to write an autobiographical article of the musical group Abba which he had told no one he loved because he felt embarrassed by it.

"And I didn't bring any of my songs on my optical recordables either.  Meant too, but I forgot them in the rush to get to the spaceport."

"This is The Language. My primary goal is to prosper righteously.  I or others may not take what is not ours, nor lie to gain advantage, a sworn contract is inviolate.  Such crimes are against the edicts of the Creator which put them into the weft and warp of the Universe, and may be punished at will by the righteous, although it is my plan if I encounter such to allow any unrighteous to hear my words, and then have a day to make their amends and peace before they depart this world at their own hand, or if they are weak at another's hand."

"I believe your understanding of Galactic civilization is fundamentally correct, Tom Day.  Take whatever flower you will, and thank you for this last thought.  It has been a pleasure to share my life with you."  The wind stops, and crystals rain down over a half-acre of sand.

You pick up a crystal, and your mind is flooded with a logic tree.  Its your axioms that you have given him, and all the logical implications that could be drawn from them.  There are concepts banal, profound, silly, simply untrue, and a few that startle you with their inhuman insight into the human condition as they are true thoughts, but not ones that a human would ever have thought.  There is an elegance, and a grace combined with a darting speed to this tree of blue light in your mind, and underneath it all is a fundamental decency and kindness.

*Plant me in another universe, Tom Day. Goodbye.*  The message is not the Sireunx, but an echo of him.

The first book teaches on a tactical level with many word problems, checklists, and practical advice.  The second book describes what in essence a good military leader is down to his bone and has only shining examples of past heroism and wisdom to advise.

A large garden has been started, and a tractor constructed along with some huge sheds.  Another project is the creation of various power supplies...solar, wind, and a small dam that is still being built in the river to provide hydropower.  Another project is the creation of a machine shop.

The devices of the Reji have yielded 'some very good ideas on how to design a small computer that the average yahoo could fix.  They have a sense for layout and design that is extreme.  I get a sense of very purposeful design, and I've learned a lot of tricks myself.'

'They have done a lot more with sonics than we have.  Overall, I'd say their tech appears to be about fifty years ahead of ours, except there tech works most of the time, and our tech is buggier than all get out.'

The Reji you have been talking too is eager to trade dictionaries.  You discover the Reji language is very small....about four thousand words and 2500 of those are technical terms for specific proccesses and/or chemicals, and so on.

Later Kevin hears you out, and then replies.

"They're barbarians.  They have no word for 'police', or 'government', or 'democracy'. They don't have a 'church' or 'temple'.  Instead, they just gather up a lynch mob and kill whoever has irritated them!"

After you mention the idea of concerts there is some discussion as to how to do that.  One guy wants to cut out a bit of the river bank, above where he thinks high water would be and make an amphitheatre out of the sloping hill.  Another group is for making a set of wooden bleachers and a movable stage that can also be used to play cricket.

The Reji you've talked to so far thinks for some time.

"Sonic Pulses to create temporary superdensity of air could work.  To control this, you would need one of our best portable dedicated computational devices.  A all-the-time on lidar, laser radar, device would have to be connected to it, but it would be exceedingly low power so as to not damage others.  That would be your warning system. I would be willing to trade the sonic pulse part of the overall mechanism for the one mechanism you mention."

He pauses.

"I am also curious as to why the Human language dictionary you gave me has over two hundred thousand words."

"We do have to deal with Stone Age tribes, two of them, at the UPC.  This is one of the things that makes our job so difficult.  Its hard to help out a post-industrialist symbolic worker, an autoplant worker, and a hunter-gathererer at the same time.  I understand to the Galacticans we're all a bunch of barely evolved primitives.  When you meet the Emmissaries with their thousand foot long crystal ships for the first time,and they practically grovel in the dirt when they mention the Galacticans it becomes very clear.  What I'm saying tho' is different.  The Reji are barbarians.  Which maybe the point here, maybe we're supposed to fold them into the UPC, and give them good government...."

There is a burst of enthusiasm for the cricket grounds, and the amphitheatre.  The cricket grounds go up quickly, and the amphitheatre struggles as the planning numbers are not coming out right as the designer, Greg Martin tries to get the acoustics right.

Your engineers are easily able to produce a metal Rubik's Cube.

Upon conversing with the Reji further he replies.

"My ancestors spent much effort trying variations to find the best way to put our tools together.  We do enjoy a well-made device."  He pauses.  "One difficulty I have with you statement is the use of the word 'abstract.  It sounds like you are telling lies to yourself."

The Reji listens to the rest of your statment.

"We are interested in biological science although it is not my strong suit.  I would be interested in examining your devices, and yes, that is an acceptale trade."

Kevin thinks about what you said.

"Let me get back to you later on that." He says speaking quietly.

The cricket field is popular, and it turns out to be a regular social outing.  A cricket league starts up, and you learn the rules, and how to hit (sorta), and better how to hop quickly aside when the ball screams toward your leg at one foot off the ground.  At least you learn how to do it after the first time you get beaned.

It makes quite a lump on your shin.

You spend the rest of that game having sympathetic females come by and offer to get 'the wounded hero' something from teh concession stand.

"But reality is easy to define." Your Reji replies.

Your Reji discusses things with others who discuss things with others, and some sort of temporary cartel is formed to build you your shield unit, if possible, and if not, they will offer you a bonus item.  They refuse to study your items until they produce the shield.  The deal you offered is basically accepted.

You're sleeping a couple of weeks later.  The Reji are still working on the shield.  They describe it as 'an interesting challenge'.  There is a knock on your door waking you from sleep.

Lucinda Jones, biologist, head of one of the exploration teams, mountaineer halfway through the Big Seven on Earth, jazz singer, is standing in your doorway.

"This is Tom Day."

An avian with patches of brightly colored fur, about four foot tall, and a two feet wide steps into the room.

"Hello, Tom Day.  I am...Singer to Humans, shall we say."

Most of the females get the message, and enjoy the friendship, but you think a couple are either driven by genuine interest, or by a spirit of competition.  In any case, Amy and Cynthia both seem to be visiting you quite often.

"But a device which has not been formulated is inherent in the structure of the Universe."  It pauses for a full minute.  "Its been a very long time since we've altered our grossly material concepts of the Universe.  Its been nearly 110,000 days since the Great Reworking which included the abandonment of ..."

He describes something similar to the Bohr Atomic Model.

"for...."

He describes something that sounds like Quantum Electrogravity.

"I think I understand 'abstract' now.  But why do you have so many forms of it?  Why so many words like 'government', and 'amoral' that are nonsensical?"  He seems bothered, and tells you to come back later.

"You're making my head hurt."

"I....know....Russian, Spanish, and some of Mandarin as well. My people, the Threet, believe that your kind, the honoured Humans, and the others were placed here in a School by the Galacticans for purposes undefined.  It seemed wise to send an expendable scout to ascertain the neigbours intentions, to greet them kindly, to offer to take them to our home towers as ambassadors, to leave some of ourself as hostages against your emmissaries safe return if you should judge that needful.

We are most anxious to offer our services to one and all of the other species in this experiment.  We wish to be useful, and to harm and offend no one."

The bird before you does not look like it could become airborne for any serious length of time.  It should be able to glide.

Tom found the Sky Equations insights in Yukio to be suprisingly insightful.  He'll plug it in for these two; this is either something he'll have to handle with grace and patience (if they are genuinely interested) or fun and demonic glee (if they're in it for the competition).

The tone of their voice says a lot too.  You can tell a lot by listening to the tone of a person's voice, especially over time.

++They're enjoying themselves by playing with a new toy, and competing with each other.

===============



"My apologies.  I do not mean to induce pain.  I believe now that you have told me of the Great ReWorking, I have knowledge that can better explain terms such as 'government' and 'amoral' for you in terms that may make more sense in the Language.  I will at a further date at your request and/or convenience."

==============



Then they might not be treedwellers.

"Singer to Humans, it is indeed my pleasure to know you.  Ambassadors and emissaries is a far superior term to use with humans than hostages.  Please understand that 'future thinking' is an important part of the culture of most humans, including to a certain degree my own.

++This is the concept of 'progress' I've heard?

  As such, government or diplomatic types used in the past to be judged 'obsolete' might cause emotional distress.  The use of 'hostages' was used in the middle ages, but might cause undue ....confusion on your part towards other humans of greater authority in our power structure than myself.  That is not to say that they might not understand or necessarily disagree with the concept or idea, but using the correct venicular is of considerable importance in the current regime.

++Very well, would you like a certain number of emmissaries to stay and meet with you while a group of human emmissaries goes to meet our group?

I can say that your talent for languages is astounding, and I, for one, believe that our species can indeed benefit a great deal mutually one with another.  I, in particular owe a favor to a comrade human who has undergone distress due to a lack of perception of colors whilst dealing with another species in an attempt at communication.  I have promised him my efforts in reversing this condition, and your ability to translate and understand languages might be most helpful in this.  Tell me, have you yet interacted with the Blue Men?

++Yours is the first species we've made positive contact with in the school.

You are correct, Singer, by the way, in your assessment of this school. I too, now believe it is to both assess, and to teach one another.  Each of us has something to learn from the others here; and, properly conducted could benefit each other greatly, but there are hidden cultural difficulties that may arise if either side is not courteous, diligent and most thorough in avoiding misunderstandings-heedless actions or rage.

++Your statement creates the desire in me for most fervent assent.

  We are being assessed, I believe, both as a group and as a species not only by our own reaction to that which is new, but by how we teach others of ourselves and each other."

Considering this is five hundred of the best and brightest of Earth, there are very, very few that are not physically attractive. These are not just supernerds, but Chess grandmasters who in their spare time win Olympic skiing medals. Some of the obvious consequences of this are starting to occur.

You do have a couple guys who jealously tease you how lucky you are to have 'Amy and! Cynthia!" chase after you.  In fact, you notice many of the females joining in on the new miniskirt craze, and giving you considering glances.  You seem to have somehow become Cool Beyond Words.

You meet with the Threet, and discover 1)They are natural mimics to the extent that they can perfectly reproduce a phrase you say in French even though they don't know French with your accent, or even make a fair guess as to how someone else would say it with their accent without hearing the other person say it.  They claim its natural.  2)There is something else, but its not technology.

Threet art is hyper-precise which shows something about their eyes.  Threet eyesight is eagle quality.  However, the pictures they draw of humans are remarkably similar with slight twists such as slightly different color tones to how humans draw themselves.

They create tiny mosaics of great care and detail and it seems that a Threet never really finishes his 'personal mosaic'.  However, they always have a temporary border of rippling black stones.

You do hear one 'poem-song'.  It starts out sweet, and then a counterpoint, more sweet, louder counterpoint...and the pattern continues until the sweet starts to laugh in an eerie way, and after that Wagner could not have done better, and all through the sturm un drang the laughter and joy swirls, and then it turns to a keening lamentation, and ends.

The Threet very deftly and smoothly arrange for you to have five hours in private.  They arrange for everyone to take medical tests.  It seems the Threet are accomplished liars as none of your other humans seem to have a clue as to the dual purpose.

They blink in what you think is a sign of astonishment when you suggest one cannot talk about religion without an invite.  But they extend you the invite.

OOC: That Cool Beyond....well, the GE dice really liked you.  I was using 3d6 instead of my usual, but still a '3' is something very good.  We'll add a @1 bonus to your Charisma, and you're at least temporarily the It Boy.... :)

==You find out one reason you became the 'It Boy'.  It seems Amy has a streak of poetic genius in the midst of all the mud of her personality.  And she wrote a superlative poem about you describing you as an epic hero.  She's written a few other very good things, but most of her stuff is too narcissitic to amount to anything.  But occasionally a flicker of greatness gets out.


Interesting and somewhat amusing.  Popularity is always a fleeting thing, and fads doubly so.  Tom doesn't take advantage of people with it, except of course for the two She Things who he is playing off of each other.  He is much nicer to everyone else.

==Another week, and someone points out to the two how goofy they are being.  And suddenly both drop you cold.



Could be natural....but they're probably also linguistic telepaths at the least...or they were just smart and have much better bugs than the UPC does and listened to the language whilst they spied on humanity.

How advanced is their electronics tech?

==They are cyborgs.



Could that be UV or IR?

==UV.



Fascinating concept.  He talks about some of the human tribal customs like this (though they are usually family or clan based rather than the individual) but there are some instances where it occurs like old style military campaign medals,  etc.  He also explains about the concept of 'Bansai Trees'.  He likes the fact that they are 'never finished'.  That's his philosophy as well.

==They are absolutely enthralled with a Bonsai Tree once one is shown to them.  Its hard to get them to leave the room it is sitting in.



Tom asks them to translate it.  He's particularly interested in this...and he's curious to find out what kinds of Human music they most like.  He shows them UPC music and music from his own timeline.

==They apologize, but its untranslatable.  In a spare moment, one of them confides he likes 'Raven' by Edgar Allan Poe, and 'Winterborn' by Cruxshadows.  He is later sent out for refreshments.



Tom informs them about the Reji's nature regarding the Language and their...almost certain displeasure at having anyone attempt to use legalistic chicanery with them.  Best to tell a Reji the truth all the time, all the way, as clear as you can.  He does not tell them at precisely the same time that he finds out that they are adroit liars, but within an hour or so.

==They bow, and scrape, and repeatedly thank you for helping them to avoid conflict.



"That's the indication I got from UPC law and tradition when studying your timeline on the ship.  I might have gotten that wrong.  However, be that as it may....there is something I need to convey to you before I die.  No, I'm not dying...and being alive in another timeline for more than a few weeks is a novelty I'm enjoying.  I don't know what the Scriff has in mind for me, but theoretically I could be here a long time, but after meeting as many violent ends as I have, I can't afford to take the risk that I'll be offed without having at least some chance to let you know what I think it is that must be conveyed in as safe a setting as I can find.

Please understand first that I like Kevin, on a personal level.

=="One must do what is best for the Nest." Singer says.

  I know that might sound strange given some of the things I know and imagine that UPC agents have done in the past but the truth is that I do believe that the UPC has done a lot of good and for the most part has many benevolent intentions.

But that isn't going to cut it any more.  There are basically three pieces of information I need to share with all of you in case I am killed through one means or another.  My primary goal as a Verser at the moment is to do as much good as I can while I am in each world.  I want to treat each life as if it were my last, and leave the world behind me a better place.  That means that I cannot in good conciense NOT tell you what I know.

The first is that the hypnotic technology of this timeline scared me to death.  I was very afraid of what it might do to our chances here, and so I convinced Kevin to let me see their secret files on everyone in order to use the Sky Equations I picked up to find out if there might be a hidden agent sent to destroy things at the last minute.

=="Thank you for sharing this with us. We are uncertain, but it is likely this could not substantially effect us.  However, we have no such technology."

I didn't find one, but I did find one working for the UPC.  Jay is a monster.  He is a ticking time bomb, and a sociopath that they have 'benevolently' programmed into being an instrument of the state.  He's one of those rare genetic anomalies that has no....light...inside him that I can find.  Then again, it might have been driven out by their reprogramming process.  I told Kevin about the consequences of this, and he has wisely had Jay confined to human areas only...but what happens when humans and aliens start mixing more? Jay's mere existence, much less his existence here is a threat to all of you.

==This provokes a huge arguement in their language.  The air buzzes as they yell at each other, and you can feel the floor under your feet vibrating.  Most of the noise seems to be supersonic.  Finally, Singer bows.

"Thank you for explaining this to us."


Second, there was more than one result that came up from the Sky Equations.  They are not perfect....that's why I carefully investigated many people that got results either positive or negative.  The only result I told Kevin about was Jay, in part because statistically speaking he was the only one that stood out as a likely trouble maker.  But the second highest result was Kevin...and his fanatism for the UPC itself.

=="We understand completely." Singer says.

I wasn't going to say or do much about this, but a while ago when I was talking to him about the Reji, he casually hinted at the idea that 'giving the Reji government' might be a good idea.  This is a bad idea.  This is a very very bad idea.

=="We do not understand. While we might prefer to be independent, yet at the same time,we know we need a coordination.  We are not in principle unalterably opposed to having this Human UPC 'give us government'.  It would have to be negotiated to see if we could work things out."  Singer says.

I've been investigating the school for a while now, and I can tell you that the reason you're here is to create a microcosm of alien thought to see how you will react to the galaxy at large.  How will you react to life forms higher than you on their ascension scale?  What about those that are 'lower'?

==Your questions cause a short buzzstorm again.  It subsides.

I also think that they make sure you know about your own race....Miss Smith ensures that no human can really excuse their own ignorance.  Plus it is obvious that the Galacticans value intelligence, knowledge and learning.  Curiosity is a virtue and rewarded here....but so is wisdom and caution.  We've done well so far, but we must be constantly vigilant.

I'm not asking you to rebel against the UPC, but I am asking you to understand the consequences of what is going on here.  If I die, someone has to be here to pass on that understanding...and if they are foolish enough to attack the Reji, then someone needs to be able to step in and stop them as quickly as possible.

=="We have....certain....capabilities." Singer says slowly.

The Galacticans also want all of us to learn from the other races.  The selection is obviously very carefully thought out to potentially create conflict if we are not exceptionally careful.  Great wonders or great problems will occur depending on how much we try to impose our way of thinking on others.

=="We desire to be flexible and helpful to all other species.  We do not require bending to our ways."  Singer announces.

But now we come to the part where I need to talk about religion.  I'm Christian, and at one time I was a fanatic.  I've had my view point opened up on a lot of things, but I've also learned that you can't be so open minded that your brain falls out.  There are limits; and you have to know where they are.

=="We worship the Singer to Quarks.  He has revealed Himself to us through many means such as seers and visions."

The UPC, based on my analysis is the union between some of the better aspects of the ancient struggle that arose at the beginning of the 20th century between communism and capitalism.  But in my experience, fanaticism of any kind save one is always a bad thing.  One can never serve god too much, but one misinterprets this very often.  Only in love, loving everyone and every living thing, is fanaticism the most difficult..and even then, the manifestation of love can go beyond rationality....common sense and pragmatism are needed.

=="We would try to agree with these noble ideals, Tom Day."

Whilst talking to Prome...er...Speaker to Humans, about the experiences that lower level beings have experienced with higher level ones, I became convinced that there is a very good chance that ascension on the galactic scale is not about intelligence, though that is a factor, is about xenophilia and universal love.  "Love one another." Every religion has it in one form or another.

The key to humanity's performance here is how well it adheres to that."

=="Thank you, Tom Day." They all bow.

PT


Maybe I should start my own Brand? Heheheh.

"Helios.  The New Scent for Men, by Tom Day."

You find out one reason you became the 'It Boy'.  It seems Amy has a streak of poetic genius in the midst of all the mud of her personality.  And she wrote a superlative poem about you describing you as an epic hero.  She's written a few other very good things, but most of her stuff is too narcissitic to amount to anything.  But occasionally a flicker of greatness gets out.

Another week, and someone points out to the two how goofy they are being.  And suddenly both drop you cold.

Your biothingy has no idea when it will be done, but its not yet.

You discover how the Threet can fly or glide....its telekinetic aided gliding.  And you're pretty sure they have linguistically aided telepathy.  Also, they seem to be very good at getting around.

The Threet seem to be heavy on secrets.  Most of the other humans see them as natural bowers and scrapers and reactions diverge.  A few want to teach them how to stand up for themselves which only provokes amusement you think behind polite smiles.  The majority thinks of them as 'natural servants' and accepts them as that.  A few seem to think that this entitles them to bully the Threet who accept this uncomplainingly.  You and Stella and Arroyo see something more beyond this.

The two weeks pass, and while you're not sure about the Threet's inner hearts, you do know they seem fond of you.  They are willing to discuss cyborging you, but they think it will require 'an enormous investment by one of our Stellar Corp.  To adapt avian base cyborging to a Mammal will require billions of credits.

You're not the It Boy anymore, but there is a Respect thing after the way the jaguar handled the snakes.

Cricket goes tolerably well.  You learn the game, but obviously you're never going to be great at it.

Arroyo has a small class now and cannot spend as much personal time with you.  He does have you training in a new skill similar to no mind.  You are to hit a target when a computer screen flashes 'hit', otherwise you are to stand perfectly still.  He's also teaching you how to use a ninjato with this training.  So, its a Basic Strike combined with No Mind and Meditation, and Breath Control.  Those ten minutes are the longest of the day.

Luke has you practising your sword strikes until it feels like your arms will fall off, and then running around the Triangular House in full armor singing in Latin a war song while leading your team.  He runs the opposite way in no armor.  He wins...you get to run again.

He has it graph recorded change rates of strength, speed, breathing rate etc, and attempts to see if it can measure a delta on the rate of change to see if it is a flat rate of change, increasing or decreasing.

==It is hard to say because at the same time you're improving your own physical capabilities quite a lot with your training with Arroyo and Luke.  There is continuing improvement.



I'd ask them for help at learning to resist telepathy, since if they all have psi, then some among them must be adepts, but it probably doesn't work the same for humans.

==They ask if you wish to learn a Blank Wall, or the One Grass in a Sea of Grass, or The Fury as defenses.



Tom won't stand for this, and tells Kevin, "Humanity is being judged.  If we're being judged collectively, then what better use for government is there than preventing this kind of behavior? If you can outlaw hate speech, then interstellar stupidity should be really high on that list."

=="Indeed." Kevin looks ticked off, and next assembly he spends fifteen minutes on pointedly ripping into 'anyone who threatens Earth for adolescent entertainment'.  He promises harsh punishment for anyone who violates the restriction.  'I can and will throw you into a room, and lock the door, and slide food under it, and open it once a week to take out the toilet bucket.  After a few months of solitary, I'm pretty sure, you'll remember you're here for Earth, and not for yourself.  And if someone really needs a fight, I'm sure Luke can take you out and let you hit on something for a while, of course, its going to hit back, and that may be a problem for the cowards that abuse our very kind allies, the Threet."

He will also publicly dress down ANYONE he sees talking down to a Threet, proving them to be the low down cowardly scum that they are.

==Sam Cooper comes to you late one night.  "I had a couple fellows come to me. One was that dictator's kid.  They were ticked that they couldn't play 'mess with the Threet' anymore and they know you're responsible.  So, they thought to enlist me in messing with you.  I threw them out.  The idiots thought just cause I don't like everything the UPC does, that it means I'm for being a thug."



Yeah, figured that.  Plus its a bad idea to install any cyberware whilst my body is changing as much as it is.  He does, however, point out that if both the Three and humanity are accepted to galactic society, then the Threet will have a market edge in selling cyberware to humans.  There are probably societies out there that already have more advanced tech than the Threet, but they won't have the existent knowledge of humans that the Threet can learn here.

==They agree, and start planning on a project, but as they point out they lack the resources to do it.  However, they are fully aware that its a case of Big Investment--Huge Return on Investment.  And they are cognizant of how it would make the Humans happy with them.



Tom has always wanted to learn music, and this is as good a place as any.  He has had very minor training on the piano, but frankly the Guitar is much more practical for his uses.  In the meantime, he'll create the lyrics of a song outlining how stupid people are treat the Threet badly.  He'll also get someone who can play music who is sympathetic to his cause to help him put it together.  If he has to, he'll bounce Hometimeline songs off of him for inspiration as something that sticks in your head and is VERY fun to sing.

==Rachel Armstrong, great-granddaughter of The Armstrong, has a very nice sophrano and has over a million fans back on Earth.  She takes your rough efforts, and shows you a half-dozen ways to improve them.  You get to be the third guitarist in her song....which is the most she's willing to go for.

"If you work real hard, I can give you third guitar, behind me and Billy Daniel, but truth is, you're really inexperienced.  But, big secret, being cute, the It boy helps in public performances.  A lot of really famous singers aren't all that good...at singing.  So you look cute, and work your fingers to the point where you draw blood and still smile, make it look easy, and we can work together.  Or I can ask Billy to tutor you for a year or so until you feel ready to try out for my new band."

Most nursery rhymes are political commentary immortalized.



It's a boring game anyway...but Tom admires the passion that its fans have for it.



Tom is rather surprised at this. He has always considered martial arts that teach weaponry to be more 'real' and is glad of it though he was mainly expecting more...'kungfuness'.  He's certainly not complaining though.  Anything and everything Arroyo teaches him he learned eagerly.



==You spend a lot of time doing double runs.

Despite the fact that this is moderately suicidal, Tom makes sure his armor is configured in weight and bulk to his own heightened strength and endurance.  If his men have to deal with 'normal human bodies' then Tom is going to make sure that he is suffering right there along with them whilst training.

****

Tom checks out the alien village 'for midgets'.

==Children? There are no children with the Threet.

"Well, I'm still trying to figure it out.  The thing is, Earth was on its last legs when the Emmisaries showed up.  We had serious problems, a lot of them were reinforcing each other, and to make it worse, a fair number of them were Catch-22's where one solution would make another problem much, much worse. Now, Kevin, he's a good guy for being a UPC top guy, but he's wanting to replicate the same mess that didn't work on Earth, here."  Sam Cooper says.

You start playing, and developing blisters.  Your compatriots look soft, but in actuality they're meaner than Luke.  They also have to make it look easy.  However, in a very short time, you're sitting on stage as a song is belted out, and you're doing some small bits here and there, and not embarrassing yourself.

After you've done your bit with Thug for an hour, Luke comes by, looks in on things, and nods, and walks off.  An hour later, Kevin comes by and asks you what you're doing.

The Threet help you get in touch with your Inner Brat.

"You need a fury, an anger that is painful for the telepath who tries to contact you.  This will deter many, and provide you warning of an attack, but some telepaths actually enjoy it. So...unleash your hatred."

The Reji make the trade.

"You have obtained a shield from me. Also a scanning device. But no one should walk without a weapon."

The village is not being examined, and you get permission from the door guard.  You enter and see no sign of life except for one six legged, brown furred hopping creature the size of a softball.

After you've done your bit with Thug for an hour, Luke comes by, looks in on things, and nods, and walks off.  An hour later, Kevin comes by and asks you what you're doing.

The Threet help you get in touch with your Inner Brat.

"You need a fury, an anger that is painful for the telepath who tries to contact you.  This will deter many, and provide you warning of an attack, but some telepaths actually enjoy it. So...unleash your hatred."

The Reji make the trade.

"You have obtained a shield from me. Also a scanning device. But no one should walk without a weapon."

The village is not being examined, and you get permission from the door guard.  You enter and see no sign of life except for one six legged, brown furred hopping creature the size of a softball.

=="I'm all ears, Tom." Sam Cooper leans back against a wall, looks attentive.

"Well the question that I really need to ask you is....how much power is too much power for you to handle? I'm not asking you metaphorically, I'm asking you, literally, what you consider your limit to be. I know that sounds stupid, but every man should know his limitations....in my case, I had the opportunity to have access to a beam that would hypnotize people just by shooting it.  I knew how abusive I could be with that, so I didn't take it.  Yes, I could have done a lot of good with it, but the temptation...wasn't worth it.

My question is...if I were to give you a tool that might be able to allow you to reshape society....where would you draw the line at using it? How confident are you about that?"

++"I look at it slightly differently. I don't really trust anyone with that kind of power, but I think I could handle it for a year.  I could hold on to my ethics if I knew I had to live under my new rules after a year was up."

=="Camaderie. Hunh." Kevin looks into the distance, purses his lips.  "Well far be it from me to interfere with team-building exercises."  Kevin nods to your group, and you, and walks off.  About two minutes later Mr. Dictator Jr. comes out of his room, and looks incredulously at Kevin's retreating back.

Ah.  So much awesomeness.  We'll carry on as scheduled for another 3-4 hours and then go back to our regularly scheduled programming.

++Mr. Dictator Jr. gives you the finger, and retreats into his room and stays there.

=="You need to hold your fury stable. You're allowing it to flux and swirl which allows open spots a telepath could pierce through."

The best tool to hold anger in check is love.  Any christian has love for their fellow being, or at least tries to.  Since the source of his greatest fury is love, it is also the source of his greatest strength.  He fixes it in his mind with a metaphorical (in his mind at least) iron grip.

++"An unusual technique, but it seems to work." Singer to Humans says.  You have Painful Fury Mental Defense and Awareness at 1@2.

=="I fear we lack the capability to do much of what you ask for.  We have the potential to do many of them, but in separate weapons.  And we could build a scanning/testing device for you to pick the best weapon for a universe.  However, if we were to build you an array of weapons, it would require more payment."

"I understand.  I think I have a weight limit between worlds. I don't know that, but one of the other versers in the last world had a hang glider as a vehicle which implies to me that the older the verser, the more weight that they can carry.  The fact that Michael de Vries had a humvee means he must be really old. If you can keep the entire package you make for me to 16 pounds that would be idea.  In fact, do the most you can within the sixteen pound limit and I will be satisfied.  Additional payment? Hmm....I can describe the human games of Othello, Genius, and Solitare if you like."

++"Other Reji have already received Othello and Solitaire in payment from other humans."

=="Resist scans? But it would be unethical to scan." The Reji pauses. "Of course, murdering another intelligent being would also be unethical. I believe the concepts mentioned in your dictionary 'espionage' make more sense now." He pauses again. "I could do such. What do you offer?"

"Zork.  This one is a bit more complicated since it requires programming beyond my skill.  However, I can write down the technical parameters which could then be programmed by one of your number.  The one who did the programming would not be able to know the enjoyment of it because he would already know all the secrets to the puzzle, but those involved in its programming would not." He explains the concept of a text based puzzle game and the basic mechanics of how it works.  If they agree, he'll use his dreamstate library ability to copy down all of the text descriptions, their command words and how they relate to each other.

++It hands you a small diamond, and a container.  "This device will naturally resist scans.  Any scan powerful enough to read it will corrupt the data, and such a scan would have to be of significant power to do so.  This is one of our long-term storage devices. It requires an hour of sunlight to be operational, otherwise it goes into steady-state."

==It stares at you, and then runs off very quickly.

There is a small part of Tom that thinks it wants him to follow...but decides against that.  He waits for a while.  If it doesn't come back, then Tom returns.  The next day, he'll visit and if there is no one there, he'll leave a Snow Globe of New York behind him and then leave.

++You step back through the door, and enter the upper floor of an abandoned factory.  Four others of highly variable looks are sitting on the concrete ground in front of you.

Your studies continue with greater intensity as spring turns into summer.  You're learning that you're mentally tougher than you thought you could be.

The problems on the 'Food' doors keep getting harder and harder.  Now, you're having to spend three hours every day writing answers to questions merely to keep food incoming.

The Reji are not that interested in Trivia Pursuit, but Pong interests them.  However, you're programming it eats into your time.

They provide you with the self-erasable SE diamond.

The concepts behind A&A make no sense to them.

They can make you a personal air fan, but they don't have levitation.

Tom continues with this.  He may pick up a bit of the 'one blade of grass among many' but at the moment he's more interested in picking one thing and learning to do it very well.  If he can't shield his own mind, he's no good to anyone...in the right circumstances that is.

===You're learning many things, but the Fury is your chief focus.  Of course, there is only so much mental energy of that type, and your teachers tell you that spending more time past a certain point would be useless.



This concerns Tom.  He will take a direct interest in the progress of the farm, more a matter of obtaining estimates as to how much food they've planted, when it will be ready and its actual progress than helping out.  Regardless, time to use that spade the Reji provided him.  When he was a child, he helped his parents with their garden, and he's got seeds.  He won't use more than half of his stock, but he plants Tomatoes, Watermelon, Cucumbers and (if he can) Potatoes (since they're also ridiculously easy to grow).

===You find out that they're coming along well, but they're is not going to be enough to feed everyone as they did not really expect that it would be neccessary so quickly.

You use the spade, and find new muscles in your back that Luke and Arroyo haven't found.

Within two days, there are over a dozen spades of your sort as others go to the Reji for spades.  These devices make the work much easier.

You find that there is only one tractor which is a limit on how much the farm can grow.

And while we're at it...Tom consults the Sky Equations to gauge (as best he can) the group's progress and any noteworthy trends it outlines, and concerns he might want to address or bring up (or not bring up) to Kevin's attention.

====A simple plot shows that in two months, everyone is going to be spending nearly nine hours every day on preparing for and doing 'Food'.  Its already cutting in to time spent on other activities.  This is causing some agitation below the surface.

The SE also predicts significant issues with romance/dating.  Its uncertain how this will play out as much is based on decisions the leadership makes.  However, putting hundreds of bright, attractive young people together in a very intense, and fascinating setting is bound to bring up certain issues.



Tom has the advantage that he has done this before, and that Pong is actually a lot easier to do than one might think.  Programmed in basic, this is a typical high school programming problem that involves creating first a sub routine for the ball (basically it needs to 'bounce' at a 45 degree angle when it hits the wall, then a virtual wall with a memory array.  This is all placed in a for next loop that goes on and on visually.  At that point, creating the bars and the the blocks that are eliminated is also child's play because it involves a graphic representation of either 'off' or 'on' if the ball hits it tied to a scoring subroutine.  The bar is the most complicated part, and that's not that complicated, because basically you shut one graphic block off as the next one comes on; so any computer can do it.  In fact, even if the computer doesn't have a graphics engine you can do it with straight up text if you have to (though a graphical interface is preferable).  Still, just to be sure, Tom takes another 10 hours to ensure that it is GOOD (after all the Reji do the same for him) with variations including 'head to head' pong, 'catch the ball', scoring bonuses, various speeds and variations of the blocks as they go up in 'levels'.

==There is a new Reji to meet you.  He is quite happy with the 'Pong'.



He sets it for one year and gives it to Sam with the Sky Equations installed.



He'll try Puerto Rico instead.  After all, he knows that they know agriculture, building, shipping and trade.  It also has a significantly higher chance of not showing up in this timeline.

===This makes more sense to them, but the Reji you talk to is shocked by the notionm of people working for other people on plantations.



...Air Fan?  As in like a coolant?

===As in four boxed propellers in some sort of ramscoop which form a belt, and lift you off the ground.  Its very loud, and windy.  But it can lift a human, the new Reji claims up until the air reaches 80% of surface density.

Since trading with the Reji is getting more complicated, he teams up with a few humans that are more capable of programming.  He'll provide them with the specs for Tetris and Space Invaders, if they'll program it.  He can give more if they find the work ratio an unacceptable ratio, but then again, he has knowledge of games and such that they couldn't possibly have access to, and some of the games from the 80's are significantly easier to program than 'modern' core earth games.

The idea is that he gets a complete game to trade for providing the specs for a certain number of games (if this interests anyone compotent that he can find).

There are other routes, but it is an option.

===You find people interested in working with you, in part because you seem to know how to deal with the Reji better than most.

Tom explores the new door with the Black Fungus.

==Hunh?  Also, the 'Unopened Door' is some other door you were working on, and not the door to the Alien City.  I should have clarified that better.

OOC: I played Puerto Rico this last weekend, and despite being sleepy came in second place.  Its a good game with a lot of interest to it.

PT

You're learning many things, but the Fury is your chief focus.  Of course, there is only so much mental energy of that type, and your teachers tell you that spending more time past a certain point would be useless.

You find out that they're coming along well, but they're is not going to be enough to feed everyone as they did not really expect that it would be necessary so quickly.

You use the spade, and find new muscles in your back that Luke and Arroyo haven't found.

Within two days, there are over a dozen spades of your sort as others go to the Reji for spades.  These devices make the work much easier.

You find that there is only one tractor which is a limit on how much the farm can grow.

A simple plot shows that in two months, everyone is going to be spending nearly nine hours every day on preparing for and doing 'Food'.  Its already cutting in to time spent on other activities.  This is causing some agitation below the surface.

The SE also predicts significant issues with romance/dating.  Its uncertain how this will play out as much is based on decisions the leadership makes.  However, putting hundreds of bright, attractive young people together in a very intense, and fascinating setting is bound to bring up certain issues.

As in four boxed propellers in some sort of ramscoop which form a belt, and lift you off the ground.  Its very loud, and windy.  But it can lift a human, the new Reji claims up until the air reaches 80% of surface density.

You find people interested in working with you, in part because you seem to know how to deal with the Reji better than most.

Hunh?  Also, the 'Unopened Door' is some other door you were working on, and not the door to the Alien City.  I should have clarified that better.

OOC: I played Puerto Rico this last weekend, and despite being sleepy came in second place.  Its a good game with a lot of interest to it.

"The way the blood hits all the walls, its a statement about the nature of the universe. Whoever did this had such hate...so pure an insight into the dark heart of the cosmos...you see the way the body parts lay, almost like arrows all pointing to the futility and the hate, and winding back on themsleves so that you get lost...its exhilarating....there is laughter here...and so much hate....you know, in my own timid imaginings I can only go so far, and then fear and satisfaction break my arms, make me weak.  But this being, this being is a master.  Their hate swirls endlessly through them, and they love it."

Jay's looking reverential.

Mike raises an eyebrow at you with a small device in his hand, and looks at Jay.  Its a tranq pinprick.

"Right, we'll DNA test it anyways.  Now I don't have a forensics lab like on Earth, but in two or three days we should have everyone who's been in this room in the last week.  And the only one other is the guard who discovered it.  He's in the infirmary doped on sedatives, but you can talk to him if you need too. He said he was walking the hall, and smelled something."

You get your interfaith prayer meeting.  Most of the people have some religion.  A lot of them are really strong in theirs.  A few are really enthused, and of them a subset comes to your meeting.

You have twenty people in the room.  A Stone Age tribesman and animist, Luke who is praying to Mars, Arroyo who is offering sacrifice to Amateratsu the Mirror Goddess, five evangelicals (ranging from Baptist to Pentecostal), one Wiccan, three Gaians, one Spirit of Man, three Roman Catholics with one of them Opus Dei, a Russian Orthodox, a Brahman priest, a skald, and a Zen Buddhist.

Kevin is non-committal.

You go out and make your speech.  There is a lot of people staring at you in dismay.  You're not sure what exactly they are upset about.  It could be the revelations about the Threet, or the split, or your charges you've made.

Arroyo counsels you to work within the system.

Sam Cooper is ecstatic with your decision.

Luke is considering, but dangerous.

"I see your point, but I'm not sure this is the time or place.  And if it isn't, well, I may end up shoving my gladius through your heart.  But if I do, I bear you no ill-will.  However, I am a loyal soldier, a follower of Lord Mars, and I must do my duty."

Stella refuses to talk to you, and just rushes off crying.

Singer looks at you with danger in his eyes.

"A sword has two edges."

A Reji comes to visit you.

"It has been relayed to me that you wished something of me.  I am uncertain what you wished for."

Kevin nods. "That makes sense. I still don't get this whole 'government is illusion' business.  How can they run their society without it?"  He pauses and looks at a wall or more through a wall as he thinks. "OK. They have to stay out of the Armory. And the Council Chambers, and my office and the security team's office.  The rest...its a bit weird to see them meandering over the factory parts we're working on, but we can deal."

"I think this may be the way to overturn the UPC. Start at the bottom, rebuild society into something freedom oriented.  I'm telling you, I've got about a dozen people here who would make excellent recruits for....well, anyways, we've had some very good farming practises emerge.  And the Reji are geniuses when it comes to farming.  It seems each and every one of them is capable of being self-sufficient in a very small land area.  If we could take this tech to Earth, it'd do away with any famines."

The beings in the mini-village like marbles.

Three weeks later, you are preparing, along with a number of others, to graduate to being Legionaires in a few days.

Singer to Humans knocks on the doorway of your room (Threet don't use doors that much in ordinary life).  When you wake he apologizes for disturbing your rest, and gives you time to fully wake.  He seems to be ready to apologize some more when he is brushed aside.

A tall blue female with a very large and intricate metallic 'gun?' steps in the doorway. She says something. Singer translates.

"Is this the Human? They do not seem very impressive.  Bird, you had better be translating me correctly, or I will be very angry.  Tell me, pale creature, does your species even understand the universal speed limit, or the code of life,if you have such,and are not some awkward....does it even speak? Is it a drone?  Does it need a female present to speak for it?  Typical incompetence.  Bird, take me to someone useful."

The torrent of words ceases for a second, and Singer fills the gap with profuse apologies until the blue female curtly tells him to shut it.  This is not translated, but it appears some attitudes are universally understood.

"The 'collective' you speak of is an illusion. The Reji deal in truth and reality."

Sam is startled by your suggestion, and he goes and checks.  Evidently, 'Miss Smith' agrees with you because he comes back boiling mad.  He had believed the UPC when it claimed famine was caused by a lack of food, and he had contributed some small amount to charity only to now just find out that likely his charity went to pad someone like the not generally lamented Dictator Jr.'s pocket.

Your team comes back with news of another door, and they think another alien species.

"We got a Threet translater, but it refused to translate.  Or it said it could not."

You see two of them come out, and each grabs a marble.  They stare at you.  And then one runs off leaving its marble there.  It comes back with a bright, shiny bit of metal about three inches long that makes your eyes cross to look at it, and your stomach knot.  It drops the metal bit,a nd takes the Earth marble.

They run off.

"Do you understand the control of stable nuclear fusion?  Of genetically altering the denerative mutant conditions in the geneline? I am Rianna of the Blitken, an Explorer First Class of the Kondoer..." Here the Threet pauses....flying strike team, or maybe far seeing movers, or uncertain....."Conjunction, as you say Limited Hive-Mind. And you Steelmind, are you alone in there? We cannot help your Explorer. His mind is cold. We reject blame for his condition, but we are saddened by it.  However, we do not understand your question. What other colors are there than 'blue'? Blue is color. I fear this stupid translator bird is messing up."

The Reji pauses.

"Typically, each Reji strives to be capable of self-sufficiency.  However, trade does arise due to small differences in skill, and due to the interest one has in working on a project compared to another who may find it boring. Also, it is...unwieldy to have more than twenty Reji in a group contract. To be precise, it is so unwieldy as to be practically unworkable.  Ten is the usual maximum. There are several hundred Reji."

The Reji pauses, and calmly waits for your analyis or inquiry.

They show you the door in the base of the pit. You step through, and feel the typical teleport door effects.

You're standing on a clay hill overlooking a slowly movng river with rocks in it.

The sun is red, and the air is dim, and filled with a greasy odor that makes it a bit difficult to breathe.  The team members with you give you a face mask which cuts the stink a bit.

A ten foot long creature slips out of the water, and rapidly approaches your group on all six legs.  Water sheens off its close, dense fur.

Ms. Smith is uncertain.

You run a battery of tests. When you expose it to electricity, you feel a jolt down to your bones. You do not feel harmed, but something has changed in the room.

"Then we are technologically superior to you, and should be the leaders of this Conjunction." Rianna of the Blikten says. "Steelmind refers to your species. The birds are soft, but with good mental shields."

Singer carols mockingly too himself at that, but shuts up when Rianna gives him a look.

"We can discuss technology transfer once we have established the Rule of the Conjunction. Indeed, it would be too our benefit to spread such technology to you since you would then be Us."

"One can trade with the insane to the benefit of both. I would prefer that you negotiate with me in a group of ten. I feel uncertain where you desire to take us, and what the implications are. While your words almost sound reasonable, they cause my brain to hurt, and the meaning sometimes seems to slip from my foreclaws."

There does seem to be a number of items that have been moved.

Ms. Smith starts you on your battery of tests. She informs you that your data matches your earlier curve.

"In one week's time, we will demonstrate our superiority in techne, by the use of a device. You are invited as is the leader of the other Conjunction to our lands to see this demonstration and to make your own."

"That would help." The Reji allows. "I cannot say what other Reji might do. Is Kevin claiming these spots as his personal property?"

It copies your gestures.

It then replies, but you don't understand the words.

It then starts staggering around for a few tens of seconds until it comes back to you and mimics your pose.

It looks like the room has been hurriedly searched.

"No." Pause. "It is the proper balance of the group and the individual to benefit both. It is not merely by virtue of power that we seek leadership.  It is also that our power makes us more familar with the traps that such power brings.  Your species knows nothing of the dangers of stable fusion. We do. We will benefit you, if we lead."