Lessons from the Patriots

"How are you progressing with your assignment, professor?" the young Lieutenant's words were drenched with arrogance. AC237-45-002 looked up nervously from his computer console. He had been so engrossed in his work that he hadn't heard the whine of the Lieutenant's transport enter through the doorway behind him. AC237 immediately swivelled his chair to face the Lieutenant then stood upright to greet his supervisor.

He swallowed hard. When an upper caste called an academic "professor", it usually meant they were being confrontational. The name carried with it a reminder of the academic's lowly place in the hierarchy of Maracken culture. However, the Lieutenant had been calling him that, either out of ignorance of its derogatory origins or from apathy, since he had been revived on the ship a week ago. Regardless of intention, the name still provoked great anxiety.

"The High Commander will be expecting your final report tomorrow at 6.50 hours. I hope for your sake you can report that you have reached a proper conclusion," the Lieutenant added without waiting for a reply to his original question.

The academics had been investigating this planet for five days. They realized after only one that the planet held great promise. AC237 breathed deeply. The oxygen rich air filled his lungs. He began to relax and assemble his thoughts for a reply. He knew it would be dangerous to prematurely suggest this planet worthy of a level two investigation but as the mission academic manager that was his responsibility. He and his team were tasked with quickly assimilating all the relevant data about this world to determine if it was worthy of further study. Five days was not considered quick. In the eyes of the Command caste, five days was an unreasonable amount of time to dedicate to one planet without a satisfactory conclusion.

The Lieutenant had obtained an extension from the High Commander for two more days of study beyond the original three after AC237 pleaded his case that this planet warranted the extension. He now had to make good on that request. He must provide the High Commander the right data so she could report to the Supreme Directorate a level of success that justified the additional time. AC237 knew this bureaucratic circle all too well. It would close with the High Commander getting all the credit or he and his team paying for the error with their lives.

Maracken society was harsh for the lower castes. The academics and laborers never got credit for their work but always suffered the consequences of failure. The only differences between the academics and laborers were that the laborers could not know it. Their brains were not engineered for complex thinking. Or was that just an implanted prejudice? The question brought with it an uncomfortable uncertainty.

AC237 watched silently as the Lieutenant's transport chair moved to face him. The chair rose, bringing the Lieutenant's face a few centimeters higher than AC237's eye level. It was a difficult face to read in gravity. His facial muscles were not strong enough to keep the skin around his cheeks and neck from drooping into layered folds.. The Lieutenant was obviously attempting a scowl but that was a permanent condition for the officer while planet-side. He struggled to lean forward and succeeded only after a gentle push from the ever-present female laborer servant by his side.

"I hate the gravity of this place," the Lieutenant growled, "I don't want to stay here a millisecond longer than I have to. You will be ready tomorrow or else." He fell back against the chair and closed his eyes. His large head rested securely between the padded braces on top of the backrest.

"You're testing my patents professor." The Lieutenant spoke now with a calm, measured voice. "I know you're milking this for a few more days in this gravity and oppressive humidity. Your kind is built for this lowly existence among the animals and insects. My place is in the gentle comfort of freefall space, where man was meant to live. That's where I intend to be tomorrow regardless of whether you're ready of not." He paused for a moment, his head rocked, a barley perceptible smile of resignation formed around his flaccid lips.

AC237 knew his place and waited for a direct question before daring to speak.

"I shouldn't have listen to you in the first place, but I did and now my future is as dependent on your report as yours is. It better be worth it professor or I will personally throw you out of an airlock." He spoke this last thought without apparent threat or malaise, just a fact, the inevitable consequence of failure.

The Lieutenant opened his eyes and looked down at AC237. "So, will you be ready to report a suitable conclusion by tomorrow or will I have to recommend you and your team's termination to the High Commander?"

A "suitable" conclusion, AC237 knew, would have to be at least a better-than-even probability that this planet was the ancestral home of the Maracken race. It was the Empress' dream to find "Home" within her long lifetime. Over two hundred years had passed since She had established this program of self-discovery and commanded the development of an academic caste to carry out the research necessary to find the proof of Home's existence. Two hundred years of wasted time according to the Lieutenant.

AC237's team had worked hard, despite what the Lieutenant thought, and had uncovered enough evidence to suggest that this planet was at least worthy of more investigation. But something beyond the data gnawed at his gut. He had been involved with this program long enough, having been among the second generation of the academics, to feel that there was more that could be found here. Something that could raise the status of this isolated planet in the far reaches of the Maracken Empire to a likely candidate for Home.

AC237 looked warily at the Lieutenant, whose long fragile fingers slowly drummed on the transport chair's control console. Although AC237 had learned long ago to despise the Command caste, he felt sorry of the Lieutenant. It must be very difficult to do even the simplest activity he thought, despite the chair and servant.

The Lieutenant, like all elite members of the Empire's immense armada, was genetically designed for life in the weightless environment of a Transgalactic Ship of Conquest. His long slender appendages were not well suited for the gravitational forces on a planet's surface, but afforded him elegant dexterity on the bridge of a war ship. However, since the Command caste was among the highest in the Maracken culture, they were the only class trusted to supervise field operations and were required to accompany the laborers, techs, warriors and academics to the planets' surface. This detail always fell upon the lower ranks.

AC237 even felt a grudging admiration for the Lieutenant, putting up with constant discomfort and irritation. He bore his duty well. There hadn't been even one incident of a lower caste suffering due to the inability of the Command supervisor to cope. He thought back to other missions where cruelty and indiscriminate murders occurred at the whim of the Command supervisor. AC237 owed him the answer he wanted to hear. The fact that it would be accurate was a bonus.

"I will have a conclusion by morning CMLT2672-481-4125 sir," AC237 said, confident that he would do at least that.

The Lieutenant looked long and hard at AC237, "I've learned that you academics can be a cagey bunch. Your conclusions better be worth the extra days or you'll pay for them in ways that even your big brain can't comprehend." The Lieutenant looked down at his console and gingerly ran a skeletal finger across the screen. The unit dropped, rotated 180 degrees then slowly floated through the door of AC237's hut. His female laborer servant followed him dutifully.

AC237 released a long sigh and returned to his computer. He attempted to continue reviewing data from the statistical study he had been running. An analysis of the relative frequency and variety of symbols scanned from an indigenous text. There were some surprising results. The entire text was built with different combinations of only thirty-five symbols. He puzzled over this finding. A language derived from thirty-five symbols can't be very precise and likely meant that the people who once populated this planet were not sophisticated enough to achieve advanced space travel.

This expedition, like all the rest, would probably turn out to be another dead end after all. A civilization that had not ventured far from its own planet could not be the ancestors of the Maracken race. His heart sank at the thought of what the Supreme Directorate would do if this mission failed like the others. Impatience was growing with the diversion of resources required to staff and maintain this program. There would be no need for an academic caste if the program was dropped.

He left the computer to pace quietly. He truly despised his existence. It was only during planetary expeditions that AC237 felt physically right. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his stubby legs. He was designed to work comfortably in a variety of terrestrial conditions and felt awkward and often sick in a ship traveling in weightless space. Stasis was always welcome after the long debriefings between planetary visits. For although Marackens had long ago conquered the problems of faster than light travel, it still took many years to traverse the distances between solar systems that held planets of potential interest.

All Marackens worked in shifts between stasis and wakefulness. Who you were and what you did determined your "duty cycle". Academics had no regularity to their duty cycle. They were awakened when their ship reached a planet for study and slept with the laborers and warriors while traveling. It was no way to live, thought AC237.

Somehow the Lieutenant's words didn't ring true.Man wasn't meant to be in space, he was meant to be here on a planet's surface with gravity and air. Why have muscles if not to use them or lungs if not to breath?

Academics seemed made to suffer more than the others. Designed with minds for free thinking, unencumbered by the pre-programmed sub-conscious engineered into all other castes,. They were given the stamina of laborers to use their brains without the distracting physical limitations of gravity or environmental conditions, but were also restricted from freely using their skills. The threat of death assured that.

It was well-known that creation of the academic caste was of great concerned to the Supreme Directorate. It was only the Empress' uncompromising insistence that academics be given the means to succeed in discovering Home, that allowed development of the caste--but with some important caveats. The work of the academics was restricted to the discoverery of the Maracken planet of origin. The academics were assigned a caste level only one above the laborers, to better control their activities, and were designed without any reproductive organs to prevent unauthorized births.

The Directorate felt that these restrictions would temper any threat a freethinking caste would have to the established order. AC237 knew they were right. Revolt could not be accomplished by a thousand or so academics against the strength of the greatest power in the known galaxy. Nevertheless, it was obvious from the restrictions and the oppressive control of their activities that the Supreme Directorate still considered academics a possible threat to the Empire. .

The current program of self-discovery was a considerable departure from the Maracken priority of conquest and expansion. This, above all else, troubled AC237. His entire caste was born just for this program and it was only the will of the Empress that kept them alive. The Maracken culture was not geared toward speculative thinking--only conquest and unquestioned duty. AC237 did not consider himself part of this culture or even truly a Maracken. He was more comfortable picturing himself as a slave whose ancestors were captured in some long past battle. Not an unreasonable view considering the Maracken race had raided the galaxy for at least five millennia, subjugating all alien cultures to the will and enrichment of the Empire.

The Marackens were an arrogant people with an unequaled technical ability and warrior spirit, they conquered hundreds of civilizations with their overwhelming military superiority and expanded their empire to over a tenth of the galaxy. They were ruthless in their ventures and often followed a policy of genocide in order to contain suspected revolts by foolish subjects. The Marackens discovered that there was no match in the entire known galaxy for their military might and they took uncompromising advantage of this.

Throughout the millennia, the Empire had concentrated all their growing resources into expanding their military and technological prowess. . Their entire culture was based on this dogma and they structured their social systems around tyrannical militaristic principals. In recent centuries, however, the Empire grew weary of the unending tedium that inevitably accompanies an unchallenged superpower. In an unprecedented time of introspection, the Empress began the project to locate Home.

Command and Ruling caste children have been taught for generations that the Marackens were always a space fairing civilization. This made the whole enterprise even more alarming to the upper castes. Not only had the Empress insisted on this mission and the distraction from conquest it manifested, it also gave credence to the persistent myths previous Maracken leaders tried to erase for centuries. AC237 was aware of the myths about the origins of the Marackens. They contained numerous stories of an isolated little planet, named Home, from which their ancestors first ventured into space.

The heroes and heroines in these ancient tales were a source of patriotic pride to the Marackens regardless for what they were taught as children. With all that was at stake, why did the Empress insist on this project? It was a question that often plagued AC237. He had concluded long ago that the search for Home was an attempt to bring a new jingoistic fervor to her aimless subjects and rekindle their slacking desire for conquest. It was the only explanation that made any sense. But still, it was an unsatisfying explanation.

AC237 returned to his work and began to summarize thefindings for his initial linguistics report. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice from the communication device implanted in his right temple.

"Manager AC237-45-002, your presence is requested in the academic conference room." It was AC563, one of the five academics working this site. She was studying some of the artifacts discovered in archeological digs a few kilometers away. AC237 hit his broad forehead with the palm of his hand. He was so engrossed with his thoughts that he completely forgot about the briefing. He answered the request with an "affirmative" and quickly downloaded his analysis into a portable data recorder. He rushed to the academic common hut a few yards away.

AC237 sat at the head of a small conference table already surrounded by his staff. He took a few moments to settle in, and then began the meeting with the first item on the agenda. "AC355 your report on the environmental parameters.".

"Yes sir," replied AC355, as he adjusted himself in the uncomfortable chair. "The planet's mean temperature is 13.7 degrees. Average atmospheric pressure is 1.0 bar and surface gravity is 842.7 centimeters per second squared. The length of a day is 10 hours, identical to the standard Maracken day. Ambient radiation is variable and is on the high end of our tolerance levels. The atmospheric constituents are primarily oxygen and nitrogen, 22% and 78% respectively. The correlation of these parameter levels to the theorized primary Maracken physiological tolerances is 0.89. If you remove the radiation data the correlation jumps to 0.97" The report made all the attendees stir. It was the highest correlation of all the planets studied thus far.

"AC678 and AC784, what have you to report on the flora and fauna?" AC237 asked of his two young exobiologists.

AC678 spoke for both of them. "The plant and animal phenotypes are quite varied. Some plants contain bioactive chemicals that range from nutrient to toxic. The animals that were dissected have very similar organ structure and biochemical processes and share from 85% to 95% of the same genetic makeup. As the species we studied became more complex, their genotypes correlated higher to the prototype Maracken. The highest being 0.96."

This news too caused quite a commotion amongst the meeting attendees. These data were certainly strong evidence of Maracken origins, however, it was not proof. The probability of finding a world with conditions similar to Home was slim, but not improbable. There had to be evidence of an advanced culture worthy of Maracken ancestry or a positive conclusion would not be accepted.

"AC563 your report." If the team were to recommend further investigation of this planet, AC563 needed to report at least some evidence of an advanced society.

"Thank you sir," AC563 courteously replied, "As you know, we discovered numerous ruins of large cities from orbital x-ray analysis on almost every land mass of this planet, primarily along coastal regions. We chose this site because of the similarity of many of the buildings and also because their geometric arraignment was intriguing. We theorized that it might have been a center of religion or government. We excavated numerous artifacts; many with a symbolic based language imprinted on them. Yesterday we discovered a vault buried about 100 meters under one of the buildings. The techs were able to open it last night and we have been categorizing its contents all day today. We found six documents, made of particularly ancient materials, quite different than the more advanced forms of text found in other locations within the vault. These were of particular interest because they were apparently encased a hermetically sealed box. We sent images of them to AC237." AC563 looked briefly in AC237's direction.

"I've got them and have been studying them along with the other samples you sent," AC237 replied to his colleague's silent question, "Continue."

"We've found numerous artifacts in other locations that can be categorized as ordinary utilitarian devices such as eating utensils, sanitary devices, transport units, etcetera. We've also uncovered some intact statues and other decorations. The interesting thing is that the statues and some pictures in the texts resemble the prototype Maracken. I think this is strong evidence of the Maracken ancestral planet." AC563 paused for a moment, scanned her fellow teammates then added with a broad smile, "Sir, I believe we may have found Home."

"Keep your opinions to yourself AC563-48-008. This meeting is for reporting facts not speculations. Jumping to conclusions can get you terminated," AC237 scolded.

"Yes sir, I will refrain from emotional outbursts."

"Over active emotions, I'm afraid, are the bane of the academics' existence. It is one of the reasons we are detested as a caste and why we must dedicate a portion of our abilities to controlling our emotions. You are young AC563. I can forgive your indiscretion, but the Command class will not." AC237 paused a moment to let his words sink in. "Did you find any evidence of advanced technology?"

Having recovered from her embarrassing impropriety, AC563 continued. "We've discovered artifacts of advanced technology in a few excavation sites. We've found fragments of viewing screens much like our own computers as well as various ancient devices the techs said were powered by primitive electromagnetic systems. We've also found data stores of a magnetic technology, which the techs tested and found to be corrupted. They think it was caused by powerful magnetic pulses. We've uncovered some disks in the vault which also seem to be data stores, created with an optical process. The techs are studying them now but have not as yet deciphered them. That's all I have sir."

AC237 spent a few minutes organizing the data transferred to his recorder during the report-outs. The accumulated evidence was certainly compelling, but they were still missing direct evidence of ancestry. Without that, he would not risk an affirmative conclusion. The consequences of being wrong would be disastrous to him, his team and his caste. AC237 decided to update his team on his progress.

"I have run numerous computer studies on the symbols from the texts. It is definitely an organized language, but is significantly different from the Maracken pictorial language of ten thousand characters. I have, thus far, been unable to establish any correlation that would prove a relationship between the two languages. I will run a phonics programs tonight in the hopes that I can find a vocal pattern for this language. If I have no success, I will have to report a status of ‘probable but inconclusive' at tomorrow's Command briefing."

AC237's remarks sparked an outburst of objections from his staff. He hammered the tabletop with his fist to gain control of his unruly subordinates. "That will be enough people! If you disagree, then get back to work and find me proof, otherwise, I expect your support with my decisions. Meeting adjourned."

The academic manager made his way back to his hut. The evidence for Home was compelling but all circumstantial. There was no longer any worry about the extra time it took. This was the most promising planet yet found and would be applauded as a great discovery. The High Commander would be pleased and would likely receive commendations. The team may even get an extra sweet desert before going back into stasis. AC237 chuckled to himself, likely not.

The phonics program ran in the background as AC237 dictated a draft report into the computer's text processor. He had just completed an upload of the scanned texts from the unique documents AC563 discovered in the vault. These texts obviously had special significance to the indigenous race of this planet. He hoped it contained some coded symbols or patterns that would facilitate translation. As the computer sorted the data and meticulously tested the almost infinite structural permutations, the door to AC237's hut swung open.

The Lieutenant floated in followed, as always, by his servant. "I reviewed the record of your recent staff meeting professor. You academics are an emotional bunch. You'd think, with those enormous brains of yours, you'd be able to better control yourselves. I guess what you gained in intelligence you lost in self-discipline."

"Yes sir," AC237 replied contritely, "That is why the Command caste should not be concerned with the academic caste. We could never challenge your authority." He regretted the statement as soon as he said it.

"It is not your station to tell us what we should or shouldn't be concerned about!" the Lieutenant screamed. He practically lifted himself out of his transport chair but the pull of gravity overpowered his anger. His servant cautiously rubbed his bony shoulders as the Lieutenant settled back in his seat.

"Please forgive my impudence sir, I had no intention of speaking beyond my class," AC237 said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Don't let my familiarity confuse you professor. I am your superior and don't forget it. I can as easily dispatch you as let you live your insignificant existence," the Lieutenant declared as he brushed his servant's hands away from his narrow shoulders.

AC237 looked down at the dusty floor of his hut until the Lieutenant recovered his composure.

"So professor, I see you are ready to pronounce this expedition as ‘inconclusive', yet another indecision. You people just don't have any backbone," the Lieutenant said, smugly. AC237 held back a smile as he thought that he wasn't the one who needed braces to keep from folding into a heap on the floor.

The Lieutenant turned his transport and flew towards the open door, nearly hitting his laborer servant. "I look forward to your report tomorrow. Maybe this time the Empress will come to her senses and abandon this waste of time. Then we can retire you academics to obscurity."

As the door snapped shut, AC237 wiped the sweat from his brow. He checked the progress of the computer program one last time before retiring for the night. The utility program said 5,345,230 permutations of phonic patterns had been run. The top ten patterns were displayed, but the highest correlation was no greater than 0.63. AC237 listened to some of them through the attached headset, but they sounded like so much gobbly-goop. He decided to leave the computer run over night in the hopes of eventual success, but he wasn't holding his breath.

AC237 stood over his sink, washing up for the night--the humidity of this planet was barely tolerable and he needed to wash off the accumulated sweat and grim from his body. Academics were accorded a single room for research and living. His experiment plugging away on the other side of the room while he prepared for sleep.

An alarm buzzed from his computer as he wiped the soapy water from his face. Dropping the towel, he rushed to the computer screen. Practiced fingers called up the utility program and he saw a correlation value flashing in red. Permutation 6,104,087 had a correlation value of 0.98.

He quickly placed the headset over his ears and tapped out a command to run the vocalization program. He listened, but could not believe what he was hearing. Not only did the vocal pattern make sense to him, but he also had no need to run a translation program. The computer was reading the symbols from the scanned text back to him in the Maracken language. AC237 listened and watched intently as each highlighted group of symbols was read over his headset.

Finally, he had his proof. He could, with great confidence, announce to the Empire that they had discovered Home. The probability that a separate culture with so much in common with the prototype Maracken could also have developed the same language was so low it would take a million galaxies with billons of worlds to realize it. This had to be the ancestral home of the Maracken people. It could be no clearer than if a Maracken himself walked out from one of the buildings yelling, "Welcome home".

He froze. If this was Home then the program was a success. The Empress would have her home world to exploit. She could revitalize the Maracken culture and regain her people's focus on conquest and galactic domination. How many worlds were spared from Maracken wrath while the Empress was obsessed with locating Home? How many people were still free to live their lives without oppression and slavery? AC237 slumped back in his chair. He could ignore this discovery. He could falsify the data or destroy the evidence, except he knew he couldn't. It was against every instinct implanted in his subconscious. Lying to superiors was one facility no Maracken was allowed to possess no matter how high up the ladder they were born. He couldn't lie. He could only die.

Suicide or perhaps orchestrating an "unfortunate accident" was the only sure way of hiding this discovery. He could walk off a nearby cliff in the dead of night. No one would be the wiser. Couple that with some data manipulation and perhaps it would be considered suicide due to yet another failure. The program would continue. This planet would be abandoned having been recorded as only a possible location for Home, one of many, and available for future investigations. AC237 knew that no further investigations would happen anytime soon. There were too many planets yet to be surveyed. They would only backtrack after hundreds of years and many generations of academics and free, yet to be conquered, people. Maybe even enough time for some people somewhere to grow advanced enough to challenge Marackea. One could only hope.

AC237 grew despondent. He would have to die to save his kind. He would likely die anyway. There would no longer be any need for academics if Home was discovered. Their continued existence would be a drain on resources for no benefit. His death was inevitable. He resolved to undertake his plan just as something the computer was reading into his headphones peeked his interest.

As he listened, tears formed in his eyes. The ancestors of the Marackens were communicating with him. They were telling him that all was not lost, that he didn't need to hide the truth. On the contrary, he needed to let the Maracken people know that Home had been discovered, for he now understood that there was more to announce than the mere discovery of the millennium. He knew he would likely die anyway but at least it wouldn't by his own hands.

He wiped his eyes and engaged his communication implant to signal AC563. "I'm sending you a twelve symbol pattern. Cross-reference it with your log and bring me all the texts that match. You were right AC563. We found the proof."

By early the next day, the techs had set up a relay for simultaneous, sub-space audio-visual transmission between the planet's surface and Capital City, traveling some 3800 light-years away. A camera was focused on a small metallic table at which the High Commander sat in her personal transport alongside CMLT2672-481-4125. Next to him sat AC237, ready to present his momentous findings. He had earlier presented his data to the High Commander, leaving out the surprise finding he intended to present directly to the Maracken people, even if it may cost him his life.

He knew he could go too far and the transmission could be terminated. His hopes lay with the potential open-mindedness of the Empress. If anyone in Marackea was capable of independent thought she was. It was slim but his only hope. He managed to convince the High Commander that they had indeed discovered the Maracken ancestral planet. The High Commander could not wait to announce her success.

The presentation began with the expected pompous pontifications. The Supreme Directorate crowded the camera at the Capital so that all fifteen members could be seen in their militaristic splendor. The Empress herself, outfitted in magnificent robes and jewels, made a brief statement of congratulations to the High Commander as she floated in her throne room.

All attention then turned to AC237. He was allowed to speak at this supreme gathering because he was the only person who could competently explain the proof to the Empress. A benefit of unfettered intelligence. He began by presenting the physical and biological data. He then detailed the findings of the archeological digs. So far all participants seemed impressed, but the real proof was yet to come. He provided a short presentation about the symbols found in the digs and how he was able to translate them into a coherent language. Now, he would shatter their civilization.

"If it pleases your Excellencies, I would like to play for you a computer reading in the language of the our ancestors, one of many indigenous people of this world. We did some research of these texts using other texts found in the digs and discovered that this document is the founding doctrine of our forbearers. These words were held in high esteem and guided their culture and their government's behavior to all their people." AC237 pressed the button on this computer console that began the read program. The speaker system broadcasted these words throughout the Maracken Empire:

"We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." "America", the correlation was evident. The phonetic pronunciation was an obvious derivation of Marackea but beyond that, were the words. They were in direct contradiction to Maracken dogma. To his surprise, AC237 was not stopped, but was told to continue. Perhaps they couldn't comprehend the far-reaching consequences of that last paragraph. Well, they were sure to understand soon. By then it would be too late.

"This document was written to inspire a revolution that resulted in the creation of the American civilization." Certainly they would put a stop to a reading from the "Declaration of Independence", AC237 thought, but played his carefully edited reading anyway.

"...We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed..."

The Supreme Directorate reacted as predicted and ordered the security forces to arrest the heretic academic. As the warriors approached AC237, he heard an unexpected but welcomed command from the Empress, "Stop! I want to learn more". The warriors halted their advance and returned to their original positions.

"AC237-45-002, you have confirmed that these are the sacred words of our ancestors?"

"Yes, Your Supreme Excellency, without a doubt."

"Then continue."

"I have one more translation from the first document. These were amendments to the original American Constitution and lists the rights of every American individual." AC237 felt that maybe he was going too far but he was embolden of the Empress' choice of words. She wanted to learn, so he added, "regardless of class." He punched the button.

The computer read the ten articles of the Bill of Rights. As each was read, the Supreme Directorate became more agitated. The Empress, however, remained expressionless, obviously in deep thought. "....make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances...". AC237 could see this statement shake the very foundation of the Empire."....the right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause....". Surly they would not stand for much more of this. AC237 was getting visibly nervous. "...nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted...". AC237 was sure he would be dead by now.

When the last article was read, the computer went silent. No one spoke or made a motion. The faces of the upper castes hung low, even those in zero gravity. Many minutes passed in this way until the Empress spoke.

"These words of our ancestors provoke great thought and introspection, AC237-45-002. I had been taught many lessons in my childhood about our ancestors. Lessons that only the future Emperors and Empresses were taught. We have always been aware of our heritage but chose to ignore it. Democracy can get in the way of empire building. Free people want only to live and prosper and let others live and prosper. We were once a free people but somehow through time and space we have lost our way. I mourned this loss all of my life, but even an Empress has limitations when it comes to changing a culture steeped so deeply in oppression and military prowess. I needed you to help me find our roots. That was why your kind was created. But your bravery went beyond even my expectations.

"You must have felt great trepidation knowing the content of these documents and how they would have been received by your superiors. Yet, you showed them to us anyway. I am humbled by your actions. A new revolution has been fought today. It was fought by one man with the intelligence to understand the significance of our ancestors' words and the courage to show us, without regard for his own life. You have done a great service for your people."

The Empress lowered her head in deference to AC237. Audible gasps could be heard from many in the audience and from a few of the Supreme Directorate. This was the first time AC237 had heard of an Empress bowing to a commoner, especially one from a lowly caste. He perceived a tinge of sardonic humor with the moment and would have broken out in a broad smile but for a sudden surreal self-consciousness.

He hadn't done this to be a hero but did any hero do his deed with that foreknowledge? AC237 thought about the mythological heroes from the old stories. George Washton crossing the river of fire to destroy the red skinned Britz or Strong Arm Neal traveling alone through space for a hundred years to find a new home for his people so they could live in peace and tranquility. They were heroes. AC237 knew he was not like them. He just translated the documents and was foolish enough to tell the galaxy.

The Empress was the real hero. She knew what he or another academic would find. She made them for that purpose. She gave them the unrestrained power of reason so they could recognize the meaning of these documents and wouldn't just file them away in some database, never to see the light of day. She knew the Empire was wrong and that all her people were once free. She made it her work to bring them freedom again, despite fierce opposition from billions of Leader and Command caste subjects. No, thought AC237, she was the real hero. AC237 looked back at the video screen through watery eyes to listen to the Empress.

"We have proved over the millennia that the Maracken people are powerful. It is now time to prove we are also a great people. I command," the Empress paused a moment, "no, ask that you, AC237-45-002, and your team join me at Capital City so that we may discuss your discoveries in greater detail and help me plan our new future."

AC237 folded his computer after the Empress had ended her speech. He rose from his chair, elevated by the statements of the Empress. He had feared that his discoveries might have been used to inspire a great and terrible empire. But instead, they may have laid a foundation for a new galactic democracy based on the words and principles penned by a virtuous and fair people, for themselves and their descendants, over five thousand years ago.