Mid-morning. You are mostly ready to
go but you are not leaving until noon or so as Carol has things to do. Since
she is about to take a shower and wash her hair you are considering to work on
Pouch 11. Let's go to it.
0954 hours. I stopped with 815 words.
Later dude. - Amorella
2125
hours. I finished
Pouch 11 but I feel like I'm just getting started.
You already have twenty-one pages of
research to go over for Pouch 12. We'll make it work. You are beginning to
absorb how ThreePlanets really works. - Amorella
People trust machinery more than they
trust their fellow citizens. I am not sure Asimov's Laws of Robotics works as I
have read some real world problems with the concept, but then that is our world
not the marsupial-humanoids. Ship is not a robot in the usual human sense of
the word, he is first, machined consciousness, it would seem that he could be
built to obey Asimov's laws. If one could add 20,000 years to our own committee
of civilizations in the world, how would it be? Surely we would be as capable
of producing the same technology without having their Family form of
government. Their government may not be utopian, but why couldn't we do the
same technology-wise?
This is a question that will come up the
Ship has a response for this, which will show his own bias towards those who
created him. The logical fallacy of self-evident truth comes to mind first. -
Amorella
Too much for me at present, Amorella;
besides, I have to move on to Dead 12. (2150)
Add Pouch 11 and post. - Amorella
***
Diplomatic Pouch 11 ©2013, rho, nfd
Walking
around from what appeared to be a curtain, Yermey came into view about five
yards in front of the Cessna. He waved and smiled. Then he jumped up and down on
the earth a couple of times and said, "The floor is solid; it will be fine."
"It
looks like grass, like a grass runway," said Pyl as she opened the door.
Blake was right behind her. Friendly followed, then Hartolite and Justin. Pyl
put her hand down and touched the grass. "It is real grass . . . and
dirt."
Blake
grumbled, "I don't remember putting the wheels down. I had just put them
up."
"Where
are we?" said Justin as if it were a statement.
Yermey
reached out with good will and shook Pyl's hand first. "Welcome to our
abode."
"This
is a giant hanger with grass growing in it," declared Blake, "I'll be
damned if it isn't. How'd we get here? I don't remember landing."
"I
think we have been abducted by aliens," asserted Justin. "I think
things are not as they seem."
"You
are not abducted, though it may seem that way," replied Friendly. "We
need to talk, and this is the safest place."
"For
you, maybe," charged Justin. "Where are the windows?"
Pyl
in restrained anguish responded, "Calm down," Justin."
Blake
directed his question to Hartolite, "Are we really abducted Carlson?"
"No,
you are not. My real name is Hartolite not Carlson."
"Why
the deception?" retorted Justin in growing anger, focused in part on Pyl's
comment to calm down.
"First,
let's show you where you are," said Yermey politely.
Looking
at Pyl for a comeback, Justin quietly bemoaned, "They are probably going
to gut us and have us for dinner. That's the best outcome I can think of."
Friendly
smiled towards Pyl. "Yermey put real dirt on the floor," she said,
"this is real earth grass because we want you to feel comfortable. You are
our guests and you will be treated well."
"Not
well cooked," noted Yermey, then he quipped with a fun face, "We are
not cannibals."
"We
hold the same virtues you do," said Hartolite. "This is why we are
here."
"Let's
go over to your apartment if you choose to stay aboard; otherwise this will be
a short stay. You are not going to be harmed in any way. If after we explain
and respond to your questions you will be allowed to return to your Cessna and
will see to it that you will be loosed into the air with everything
functioning, to land at Burke which is only a mile or two away."
"Are
you going to take our memories away?" asked Justin in a slight but direct
voice.
"No
need," said Yermey. "This is not science fiction. No one will believe
you if you tell what you are experiencing here. Why would they?"
"They
wouldn't, that's the point. I am not so trustful as Pyl and Blake."
Ship
interjected for the first time, "Trust is what we do, Justin, this is what
I am built for."
I
am built to know and understand the captain and crew whom I protect, I am in loco parentis just as a public school teacher in your culture. It is my job to
keep you safe from harm first. We have no weapons. We have no need of a
military presence at home or here. We are runners by the same nature that you
are stand-and-fighters.
"Parents?"
"The
marsupial-humanoids, as you will come to call us, are run like a single family
household in your culture. We are the same species thus we treat each other as
family."
Blake
chuckled, "We have problems in and between families."
"As
do we, that's why we have a committee of twelve with two Parents elected once
and only once every twenty years, a male and female. Three judges in courts
clarify disputes. Our institutions are similar. Our practical form of Family
has worked for us for fifteen thousand years but we have no wish to impose our
culture onto yours. We would rather run first. I, Ship, am built for safety and
for running first in the process."
Friendly
interposed, "Ship welcomes you. He will protect you and your culture while
on board. If bad comes to worse, we will drop you off safely, with your plane
fully intact and running and we will run off too."
Anticipating
Justin's next question Blake asked, "What if one of you attempted to harm
us?"
"Ship
would protect you first as you are our guests, and us second."
Justin
stood surprised, finding he trusting the machinery first just like he would
trust his car before he would trust a stranger driving it.
783 words
***
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