Michelle Knight. Writer, photographer, programmer, truck driver and general, all round nut case. Life is a journey and that's what this blog will probably end up being. Let's see where we go, eh? ;-)
See what you think of this...
NASA was guarding a secret. On the extremities of Voyager 2's journey, it had found another planet on which the human race could live. It was roughly twice the size of Earth and composed mostly of water. Volatile weather systems caused violent disturbances on the surface, so it was officially named, “Cymopoleia,” after the Greek sea-nymph of high storm waves.
After people kept getting it confused with an intimate human disease, they nicknamed it, “Agua.” This in turn led to misunderstandings at the water cooler, but as those were less embarrassing, the nickname stuck.
Land coverage of the planet was only around fifteen percent and it was highly distributed. There were large numbers of small islands all over the surface, with a few larger land masses here and there. It looked like a deity had woken up one morning with the flu, gone for a celestial stroll and happened to sneeze on it as they walked by.
As far as habitable planets went, it didn't look too bad; but there was one slight problem. The existing inhabitants.
“That's never stopped us before.” said a scientist in a high security meeting room at the Houston complex. A group of sixteen men and women, top people in their professions, were debating the thorny issue at hand.
A thin, physically weak specimen among them, burst forth with a vocal energy that belied his appearance. “But we have to tell people! It's our duty!”
On the other side of the table was a woman who was also on the opposite side of the debate. “No we don't. We have a duty to report on intelligent life, and 'sentient,' is about the best you're going to get with this lot.”
A woman with what looked to be half the stationary cupboard in her chest pocket, chimed in. “But they're alarmingly like us. They could be our relatives. We have to tell people about this!” She punctuated her sentence by hitting the desk, in the vain hope that violence would add weight to her argument. Although the technique worked on TV, in reality it only left her with a dull, throbbing sensation in her fist.
A rather conservative figure off to the side attempted to move the conversation forward. “What, exactly, would you like us to report? That there's a bunch of aliens sailing around their planet in wooden boats, waving cutlasses in the air and calling everyone me'hearty?” He opened his arms wide in invitation of a challenge, as if that settled the issue.
Someone duly accepted. “Need I remind you that our own species did exactly those things not so very long ago?”
The conservative figure already had his response planned. “And dare I remind you of how we turned out as a species? We are the perfect example of why they should be left alone.” He glared at his colleagues to see whether there would be a response. None came, so he attempted to seal the deal; after all, they were already several hours overdue for dinner. If they kept this up, it would be time for breakfast again. “I mean, we all know what another five hundred years is likely to mean for that planet. Fox News, cheese in a can and Eurovision.”
Silent acknowledgement of his powerful argument drifted across the room. The puny one had a problem letting this go. “But this is what people have been searching for; putting all their efforts in to. Are we finally to have found extra terrestrial life, only to tell no one?”
A murmur of discontent spread around the table. His opposite number, once again, opposed him. “I suggest that we don't tell anyone, anything; at least, not if we want people to keep looking for something worth finding.” Voices muttered their general agreement.
A bearded figure who had remained silent to this point, suddenly burst forth with considerable volume. “Discovery of a planet like this might dash all hope of finding intelligent life in outer space. People might give up searching. We can't risk that happening.” he dramatically raised a pointed finger in to the air. “Hope and discovery are the cornerstones of our species!”
The discussion continued on until breakfast the following day; and beyond.