The governor, Alois Gadro, had herded the entire Anaki population into camps with high fences and guard towers. Needless to say, when we found out about it, it brought to mind some unsettling episodes from Earth’s own history, and it fell to me to do something about it.
The following is a dramatised account, admittedly, but entirely based on recordings that were made at the time, alongside eyewitness testimony.
The first thing I did was to assemble a team.
Harry Rickman was an obvious choice to lead the team. He was quiet but effective; a shortish man with a little black moustache, very decisive. Also, Zara Feldsmar. Tall, with silver streaks in her blonde hair, and a very effective leader. I felt that together they had the necessary force of personality to deal with Gadro.
These planetary governors can be hard-nosed; toughened as many of them are by their tradition of fighting: an unfortunate necessity during many of our colonial endeavours.
Aside from those two I hand-picked a bunch of crew members; anyone I though was solid and reliable.
I only added Ilsa Roman as an afterthought. She had been with us for just a year at that point, and I wanted her to get some real-life experience. Several people told me she was wrong for the job; too soft, too idealistic. My argument was, what better way to toughen up than dealing with a recalcitrant and possibly psychopathic governor?
After the whole thing had blown over, I reviewed all the meetings that had taken place on the ship. They were largely uneventful. One in particular stuck in my mind; most of the rest, not so much.
Sven Carr, the ship’s captain was present at this particular meeting, along with Rickman, Feldsmar and Roman.
“I’ve been researching some analogous cases from history.” said Roman. “I’ve produce a dossier.”
She handed folders to the other three.
She proceeded to nervously regale the other three with a whistle-stop history of prison camps, taking in the Spanish in Cuba, the British in South Africa, the Americans in the Philippines, then the Russian gulags, and culminating in the Nazi concentration camps. She also drew comparisons between Gadro’s treatment of the Anaki and the apartheid system in South Africa in the 20th century.
By the time Roman had finished, Feldsmar, tough though she was, had tears in her eyes. Or at least, she apparently wiped a tear from her eye, dabbing at it with a handkerchief.
“You’ve performed your task wonderfully.” she told Roman.
I had to go back over earlier tapes to find the bit where Feldsmar indeed assigned exactly this task to Roman.
“Thank you.” said Roman.
“Gadro will pay for his crimes.” said Rickman, banging his fist on the table, also deeply moved.
“Do we know why he’s set up these camps?” said Carr.
“The man’s sick in the head.” Rickman replied.
“All planetary governors are subject to massive psychological testing before they’re assigned their posts,” Feldsmar explained, “but there’s a loophole in the system. A true psychopath can simply repeat the right answers to pass the tests.”
“In other words, he lied through his teeth on the exams.” said Rickman. “Now he’s committing genocide against an innocent population.”
“I still don’t really understand who the Anaki actually are.” said Roman.
“Gadro won’t release any footage.” said Rickman. “Never mind. It won’t help him. We’ll find out soon enough.”
“The important thing to understand,” said Feldsmar, “is that they were the original inhabitants of Atremka.”
“When humans colonised Atremka,” said Rickman, “the Anaki were hunter-gatherers. Humans came into conflict with them, and eventually reservations were established.”
“Which have now turned into concentration camps.” said Feldsmar.
“Completely illegal under all inter-galactic law.” said Carr.
Soon the ship emerged from hyperspace and began the descent to the planet.
“It’s beautiful.” Roman commented.
Many before her have remarked on the appearance of Atremka from space. It resembles the Earth somewhat, but is a more brilliant shade of blue, which many call azure, although at times, depending on the position you view it from, it’s closer to indigo.
By then Atremka was already old; colonisation occurred more than five hundred years ago. Since Atremka was one of the first extrasolar planets to be colonised, interest in it was initially extremely high, and colonisation proceeded rapidly. Then, with the discovery of many slightly smaller planets, offering the benefits of lower gravity, the focus of attention moved on, and the entirety of Atremka began to resemble an abandoned tourist resort, or some old region on the Earth suffering depopulation.
Many buildings were simply abandoned and left to the elements.
That’s not to say the planet became in any way what you might call “shabby”. On the contrary, the populated areas retained a distinctive beauty, perhaps resembling parts of Spain, Portugal or Italy, but up close one saw how many hotels were closed and how many houses had fallen into ruin.
The ship made landing on the property of Gadro’s villa, in a town called Frith, in the region known as Atruria.
Rickman, Feldsmar and Roman marched up to the door of his villa to meet him, and Gadro emerged with a dazzling smile.
“I assure you, your concerns are entirely misplaced —” he began, but Rickman cut him off.
“You’re running a system of gulags here!” he exclaimed, rather bluntly.
“It’s unconscionable.” said Feldsmar.
“I’d be happy to give you a tour.” Gadro replied. “I think you’ll understand that the camps are an unfortunate necessity.”
“So you admit it?” Feldsmar asked.
“Naturally.” said Gadro. “Shall we begin now, or would you like to refresh yourselves first?”
They replied that they would indeed like to refresh themselves, and Gadro organised temporary quarters for the three investigators and separately for the ship’s crew.
The following morning the investigators and Gadro got into an armoured transporter, open-topped but protected by a powerful force field, and they glided off into the nearest town, Gadro steering via a joystick, sitting next to Roman in the front, while Feldsmar and Rickman sat in the back, like a pair of visiting dignitaries—which is more or less what they actually were.
“I thought we’d chart a course through the town and then—”
“We want to inspect the camps immediately.” said Feldsmar, cutting him off.
“As I was saying, we’ll pass through the town and then make our way to Camp Tiszta, ten kilometres from the periphery.”
“As you wish.” said Rickman, before Feldsmar could raise further objections, since he was actually curious to see the town.
The town itself resembled any old European-style town. As with many towns actually in Europe, the young people had mostly left, leaving behind the elderly and those who, for whatever reasons, enjoyed fewer opportunities.
The centrepiece of the town was an enormous square object, standing on its edge. Some wag had scrawled “abandon hope all ye who enter here” on the plinth on which it stood.
“The portal.” said Gadro, gesturing at it. “The only thing Atremka is still really known for—apart from, apparently, prison camps.”
“I’ve heard about this.” said Roman. “Can it really transfer people across space without a spaceship?”
“It most certainly can.” said Gadro, with a devilish smile. “If you don’t mind being subjected to lethal doses of gamma rays.”
“Has there been no progress on the radiation problem?” Rickman asked.
“Very little.” Gadro replied. “Anyone who goes through it has a ninety-five percent chance of survival …. with medical treatment.”
“And without?” Feldsmar asked.
Gadro smiled icily.
“Essentially zero.” he said.
The transporter flew through streets of dilapidated abandoned houses, interspersed with houses where some proud owner had made a real effort at maintenance, even sometimes decorating the exterior with flowers. Eventually they moved out onto empty roads surrounded by trees and mountains.
After another five minutes they saw it: the high fence that surrounded Camp Tiszta, punctuated with high guard towers.
“Monstrous.” said Feldsmar.
Roman’s eyes were wide, while Rickman held his tongue, his face hardened into a disapproving near-grimace.
“Wait until you see what’s in them.” said Gadro.
At the entrance (consisting of a triple set of gates topped by coils of razor wire), soldiers in dark blue uniforms waived them through, saluting Gadro.
An army transporter floated out in front of them, guns trained on the camp’s inhabitants.
Roman gasped.
“What are they?” she said.
“The Anaki.” said Gadro. “Violent, nasty creatures. We had hopes of bargaining with them but you can’t bargain with an Anak. That part of their brain appears to be absent.”
The Anaki themselves milled around the transporter curiously. Others lounged against the outsides of the tiny box-like houses in which Gadro forced them to live.
“Stop the transporter.” said Rickman. “I want to talk to them.”
“I can’t recommend it.” said Gadro dryly.
Nevertheless, he obeyed, and the transporter came to a halt, floating just above the stony ground.
The Anaki appeared at first glance to consist of nothing but brownish hair: mounds of hair that shuffled to and fro with a curious lurching motion. On closer inspection, as they slithered up to the transporter, each of them possessed four black eyes:, two large central eyes and two smaller peripheral eyes.
“How do they move?” Roman asked.
“They have rudimentary feet underneath all that foliage.” said Gadro. “Usually around eighteen, but the precise number varies. They’re actually capable of fast, smooth movement when they want to be.”
One of the creatures shuffled up to the side of their transporter and Rickman produced an auto-translator.
“Could we ask you a few questions about your life here?” he said.
The translator produced a series of scratchy warbling sounds, and the creature replied in kind.
Then the translator sounded out human speech, the modulated human voice contrasting absurdly with the noises the creature had actually produced.
“Please help us.” it said. “We are being held prisoner here in terrible conditions.”
Gadro rolled his eyes.
“Spare me the amateur dramatics.” he said.
“Silence!” shouted Feldsmar.
“Yes, ma’am.” said Gadro sarcastically.
“How long have you been here?” Rickman asked, and the machine duly produced the appropriate warbling sounds.
“I have been here two hundred years.” said the creature. “Some of us have been here four hundred years.”
“How long do they live for?” Roman asked Gadro.
“As far as I know they’re immortal.” he replied.
The creature’s two central eyes regarded them mournfully.
“They don’t give us enough food.” it said, via the translator. “We are starving. Once this was our planet, now we are living like animals.”
More creatures were shuffling towards the transporter, each of them somehow projecting a curious despondent sadness in spite of their lack of facial features.
“I think that’s enough for the moment.” said Feldsmar, covering her nervousness with a determined, rather harsh tone of voice. “Continue.”
“Very well.” said Gadro, and he pushed the joystick forward.
As they glided off through the camp’s streets, Rickman angrily shouted, “He said you’re starving them.”
“It.” said Gadro. “They’re not human.”
“Human or not, you have to feed them.”
“We do feed them. They receive more food in here than they ever did when they were left to their own devices. If we give them even more food they’ll spawn and soon they’ll be starving again. We don’t have infinite food, unfortunately.” Gadro smiled. “Or fortunately, depending on your point of view.”
“This is horrific.” said Feldsmar, gazing at the seried ranks of boxes in which the Anaki lived.
“What’s horrific about it?” said Gadro.
“These houses don’t even have windows.”
“The Anaki don’t like light. They use their eyes like we use our noses. Too much light bothers them.”
“This is absolutely unacceptable, Gadro.” said Rickman. “What you’ve done here is completely beyond the pale. It’s unspeakable.”
“What do you suggest I do, exactly?”
“I suggest you let these poor creatures out of this disgusting prison camp.”
“That, I do not recommend.” said Gadro.
“We’ll discuss it later.” said Feldsmar. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve seen enough.”
Back at Gadro’s villa, Feldsmar and Rickman rounded on him.
“You are going to dismantle these camps immediately.” said Feldsmar.
“We’ll be making a full report about this to High Command.” said Rickman.
“You don’t understand.” said Gadro. “If I open the camps, they’ll slaughter us.”
Rickman exploded with sarcastic laughter.
“These … people are clearly in a horribly weakened state. Even if they wanted to kill us, which I could well understand after how you’ve treated them, they wouldn’t have the energy.”
“It’s an act. They have plenty of energy, believe me.”
“Have you heard of Hitler, Gadro?” said Feldsmar. “Or Stalin? Have you learned nothing from the lessons of history?”
Gadro rose to his feet to stare out of the window.
“These aren’t people. They’re not human.”
“They’re sentient, intelligent beings; our equals.” said Rickman. “How many camps are there, exactly?”
“Twenty.” said Gadro. “It’s their intelligence that makes them dangerous. That, and their complete lack of interest in human morality. If I open the camps they’ll tear us to pieces without the slightest compunction. As for how I’ve treated them and the supposed effects of it on their behaviour, they were like that to start with. That’s why we created the camp system.”
“Maybe we should find out a bit more about them first.” said Roman suddenly.
Feldsmar and Rickman stared at her incredulously.
When she had recovered from her shock, Feldsmar began to take Roman to task.
“Your job is to support our humanitarian mission,” she said haughtily, “Not to question the very goals of the mission. Have you lost your mind, girl?”
“I’m only saying, the people here understand the Anaki better than we do. Perhaps we should research how best to help the Anaki before we open the camps up.”
“You just blew your whole career.” said Rickman. “Absolutely disgusting attitude. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you ever heard such a thing, Feldsmar?”
“Never.” said Feldsmar. “A junior technician questioning her superiors like this? It’s unheard of.”
“At least one of you has a functioning brain.” said Gadro, turning round suddenly. “You think I’m the bad guy here? I’m the only thing protecting you from the stupidity of your own half-baked moral system.”
Rickman jumped to his feet.
“Our half-baked moral system, as you call it, consists of a set of directives developed collectively by humanity with the aim of preventing psychopathic dictators like you from doing exactly this!”
Gadro stared at him coldly, and for a moment they thought he was about to explode with rage. Then he smiled; the cold, cynical smile with which they were by then entirely familiar.
“Humanity has never previously encountered the Anaki. Perhaps your philosophers should have met with a few of them before formulating their principles.”
“Humanity is a rank interloper on this planet.” said Rickman. “They’re the indigenous population. We’ve displaced them. They have every right to be angry, and we have no right to be stuffing them into horrendous prison camps. You disgust me.”
“They’re not the indigenous inhabitants of this planet.” said Gadro. “They’re the species who slaughtered the indigenous inhabitants. At least get your facts straight.”
“Regardless, they’ve been here a lot longer than us.” said Rickman. “There are principles here, Gadro, even leaving aside humanitarian considerations.”
“We have the power to have you removed,” said Feldsmar, “and we will remove you unless you open up the camps. Either you cooperate or we’ll have you arrested and taken back to the Earth for judgement.”
The smile dropped abruptly from Gadro’s face.
“It appears I have no choice.” he said.
“Damn right, you don’t.” said Rickman.
“Can’t we at least spend a few days on further research?” said Roman.
“You shut your insolent mouth, you silly girl.” said Feldsmar, wagging her finger at Roman.
Gadro pulled his communicator from his pocket and spoke into it.
“Captain Appley. Open up the camp. Let the prisoners out.”
The voice transmitted from the other end was incredulous.
“Could you repeat that, Governor Gadro?”
“I said, open the camp. Unlock all the gates. Let them out.”
“With the greatest respect, sir, have you lost your mind?”
“The decision is out of my hands, Appley. Our duty is not to question orders; our duty is to obey.”
There was a pause, during which Captain Appley could be heard breathing heavily. Finally he said, “I’ll do no such thing.”
“Captain Appley, I could have you removed from your post.”
“Better that than let these vermin out. At least then I won’t be held responsible for it.”
“Is that your final word on the matter?”
“That is my considered stance.”
Gadro switched the communicator off.
“I’m afraid my captains have more sense that you.” he said. “I doubt there’s a single one of them who’ll open their gates.”
“Very well, then we’ll go there in person and open the prisons ourselves one by one.” said Rickman.
“Insanity.” said Gadro.
“You’ll do as you’re told.” said Feldsmar. “You will take us to the prison camps. Our crew will accompany us.”
Soon they were heading out of town in Gadro’s transporter, Captain Carr behind them in another transporter, and almost the entirety of the ship’s crew following in another six transporters behind that.
They passed by the portal and quickly left the town behind. Soon they pulled up outside the camp.
Gadro spoke into his communicator.
“We’re coming into the guard house.” he said.
“All of you?” said the bewildered voice of Captain Appley.
“Ten of us.” said Rickman.
“Ten of them.” said Gadro.
The outer gates opened and they filed into a small building at the front of the camp, from where the interior and exterior of the camp were visible, as well as the gates; the guard house benefitted from wrap-around windows made of thick toughened quartz glass.
“How do I open all the gates?” Rickman asked.
“You don’t.” said Appley, turning pale.
“I outrank you.” said Rickman. “Tell me how to open the gates if you want to keep your job.”
Appley turned to Gadro.
“Is this for real?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” said Gadro. “Tell him what he wants to know.”
“Sir, I request permission to have a five minute headstart to go and save my wife and children before the gates are opened.” said Appley.
“Don’t be such a drama queen!” said Feldsmar caustically. “Just tell us how to open the gates.”
“Enter the code 5-1-8-9.” said Appley, pointing at a control panel. “Then flick all the gate switches. Then enter the code again to confirm, and press the red button.”
“Feldsmar, would you like the honour?” said Rickman.
“Is this really a good idea?” said Roman. “With a little more research …”
“I certainly would.” said Feldsmar, and she began entering the code.
Appley ran to the door and bolted out of it.
“Don’t worry.” Gadro said quietly to Roman. “We’ll be safe in here. For a while.”
Feldsmar pressed the red button and multiple alarms began ringing out.
“Let’s go out to congratulate these innocent beings on their release.” said Rickman.
“A wonderful idea.” said Feldsmar.
“My men and I will remain here for the moment, if you don’t mind.” said Carr.
“Nonsense.” said Feldsmar. “You and your men will come with us.”
Carr filed out of the door, following Rickman and Feldsmar, wearing the resigned expression of a condemned man. Roman hung back, hoping they wouldn’t notice her.
From the control room, Roman and Gadro watched as the small crowd of humans went to stand in front of the great mass of Anaki. Rickman held out his arms like a king making an offering to his subjects.
“You are now free!” he shouted.
A group of curious Anaki surrounded him, making hideous flute-like piping sounds.
He smiled, and then quite suddenly a long tentacle with an arrow-like structure on the end of it darted out from beneath the fur of the closest Anak, and embedded itself in Rickman’s skull. His eyes and mouth opened wide, and blood began to pour from his nose.
Feldsmar shouted something and the crowd of humans began to fall back towards the open gates.
More Anaki plunged their thin dart-like tentacles into Rickman’s skull, the tentacles pulsing as blood and liquefied brain coursed through them.
Even inside the control room, the sound of Feldsmar screaming incontinently was faintly audible.
Gadro and Roman watched as the Anaki overwhelmed one of Carr’s men after another. Appley, outside the camp, jumped into a transporter and shot off towards the town at high speed. Carr began firing his laser cannon wildly at the Anaki, killing several, but the Anaki were swelling into an irresistible crowd.
“We have to help them!” said Roman, inside the guard house.
“Do we, really?” said Gadro. “Personally I don’t care if the entire class of senior administrators gets eaten alive one after the other.”
“Do something!” said Roman. “Please!”
“There’s nothing I can do.” said Gadro, with a horrible smile. “Don’t worry, we’re quite safe.”
“Don’t you have a wife or children in the town?”
“As it happens, I don’t.”
“But the people in the town—they’re done nothing to deserve this!”
The smile faded from Gadro’s face.
He ran to the control panel, held a button down and spoke into a microphone.
“Evacuate the town!” he shouted. “The Anaki are loose!”
When he took his finger off the button, Roman noticed his hand was shaking slightly, in spite of his general appearance of composure and self-assurance.
“There must be something we can do.” said Roman.
“Do you want me to kill them?”
Through the window at the side of the guard house, vast crowds of honking, piping Anaki were visible, streaming out of the gates and scuttling towards the town, arrow-headed tentacles waving above their heads.
“What will they do when they reach the town?” Roman asked.
“They’ll slaughter everyone. That’s their way. They don’t understand compassion.”
“Then yes, I want you to kill them.”
“Unfortunately I haven’t the means to do that.”
They stood and watched, Gadro emotionless—or appearing so, Roman horrified, as the nightmarish horde streamed out of the camp in the direction of Frith.
Suddenly a thought occurred to Roman.
“Open the portal.”
“What?”
“Open the portal. They’ll go through it and die from the radiation, won’t they? If it even takes out a few dozen of them, it’s better than nothing. The human inhabitants will know not to use it, but they won’t. Are they susceptible to radiation?”
“Very.” said Gadro, smiling again. “You surprise me, Roman. I like the way you think.”
“Can you do it?”
Gadro took his communicator from his pocket and raised it to his lips.
“Heller?” he said. “Listen, I haven’t time to explain. There’s a vast horde of Anaki coming your way. Open up the portal. Let them die trying to go through it.”
A torrent of outraged indistinct words emerged from the communicator.
“Just do it,” Gadro shouted, “or prepare yourself for death.”
Outside the guard house, Anaki threw themselves against the windows, arrow-headed tentacles clinking uselessly against the strong glass.
Gadro took a bottle from a fridge, removed the cork and began pouring it into one of a pair of glasses.
“Would you like a little wine?” he said. “It’s an excellent vintage. From our own vineyards.”
“You want to drink wine at a time like this?” said Roman.
“We’re stuck here for at least an hour, till they disperse. It may surprise you to learn that I value the calming effect of wine precisely at times like this. Well?”
Gadro held the wine bottle poised above a second empty glass.
“All right.” said Roman.
Not until three hours had passed did the endless stream of Anaki subside to safe levels.
“Let’s go.” said Gadro, taking a plasma rifle from a rack. “Do you know how to use these?”
“No.” said Roman.
He handed her a rifle.
“Pull back the catch, point it and pull the trigger. Don’t wait till they come at you.”
“I can’t kill innocent creatures.” said Roman.
“There are no innocent Anaki.” said Gadro. “You should have seen what they did to the early settlers. They delight in pain and suffering. It’s their nature.”
Outside they made their way to the handful of transporters that still remained in the parking lot, periodically shooting at Anaki stragglers, some of whom scuttled towards them making scratchy flute-like noises.
Once safely in a transporter they drove towards the town.
At the edge of the town they were greeted by a crowd of armed civilians, standing among scattered Anaki corpses.
“Many casualties?” Gadro asked them.
“Probably no more than fifty.” said a tough-looking man carrying a rifle and hung about with various other weapons.
“I issued instructions to evacuate.” said Gadro.
“We’re not going anywhere, Governor.” said the man. “Apologies and everything.”
Gadro smiled.
“You’ve done a great job.” he said.
“Thank you, sir.” said the man.
Soon they were approaching the portal. There they found Heller, the scientist, gazing blankly into the portal. They alighted from the transporter and went to join him.
“Status report, Heller.” said Gadro.
Heller jumped, startled.
“Oh, it’s you.” he said. “Yes, most of them took the bait. I altered the coordinates to the middle of the Sahara. Not much out there. If the radiation doesn’t kill them, the heat will.”
“Well done.” said Gadro.
“You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison.” said a voice.
They turned to see Feldmar, covered in blood, half-staggering towards them.
“I tried to warn you.” said Gadro. “I told you, they aren’t human. They’re ruthless killers by nature.”
“You’re responsible for this mess, Gadro.” she said. “You’re responsible for the deaths of Rickman and most of my crew. I’m making a full report to the High Commission.”
“A few hours ago you were planning to make a full report on me keeping them in prison camps. Now you’re planning to make a full report on me opening one of the camps?”
She stared at him blankly and confusedly.
“Would you like me to open up the other nineteen camps?” said Gadro.
Then Feldmar fell face forwards onto the ground, and remained there.
Heller ran to her and examined her.
“One of them got her.” he said. “Wound in the back of the head. She’s dead. Amazing she didn’t die earlier.”
“Sixty or more humans dead because of her and Rickman’s idealism.” said Gadro. “I won’t be attending her funeral.”
At this point, Gadro ripped the transponder from his jacket, so no more of his conversation was recorded. All governors are required to wear transponders while conducting official business at all times.
As of yet, no action has been taken against him. I have recommended that no action be taken.
He remains as governor of Atremka.
Nor do I find any fault with Roman, whose quick-thinking suggestion saved countless human lives. Over seven hundred Anaki corpses were later recovered from the Sahara. They are being studied.
Sven Carr in the end survived, but refused to return to the Earth, and I have released him from all duties. He is free to remain on Atremka if he so wishes.
Our sense of morality was formulated for humans, via observation of other humans. The fact is, few of us have ever encountered creatures of other species—other exospecies—with human-like intelligence but none of our human traits.
One can only wonder if early humans weren’t perhaps in a similar situation in their dealings with the Neanderthals or the Denisovans.
In my view, Gadro is innocent of wrongdoing.
This ends my report.
