The Architect

Submitted by: Anonymous 

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Groshkek, Fifth Planetary Architect of the Bertept, floated in his hover-cart across the bridge of his star ship and scanned the holographic images of Earth rotating around him. Multiple images rapidly flashed on his displays, his four eyes and four brains working independently as he digested years of Earth’s history in seconds.

He sighed, this shit hole again. A thousand quart-parsecs to the damn planet and nothing ever good comes of it. Why can’t he oversee Margo-5 or The Hergonzor system? Now they were worthy of his attention.
He had fought hard for his position in the Architects of Planetary Management And Cultivation, and what does he get for his efforts? Back water planets! Places still unable to comprehend their meaningless existence, places of conflict, despair, and pointless happenings. No Architect ever won an award with mammalian species; too aggressive and self-indulgent. And on an ocean world… They only have one brain!

To be an Architect was a great honour, but a lonely life of isolation and one without reward, a hard and pointless job.

As Groshkek got closer to earth, the images became more recent. His ship’s rapid speed bringing Earth’s history piling into the database. He studied events with the nonchalance of one who had seen it all before; once you’ve seen one pre-space-flight planet, you’ve seen them all. He watched as men with floppy hats killed each other with muskets, as new machines bore life into cities and industry, he watched as monarchs fell and new ideas spread. The world became commercial and more open. Ideas of liberty spread. Cultures changed more than ever before. A World War was fought, and then another shortly after. He scoffed; they will wipe themselves out at this rate!

He was about to turn away when rockets were launched into space and a new race of projects had begun. A space station was established and satellites ringed the planet. Interesting, surprises were too few in his line of work, these mammals are resourceful.

His ship arrived in the milky way and docked with earth moments later, finding orbit above the planet. He was now up to date with everything that had happened over the last 200 years, Earth time that is, since his previous visit. He admitted things had changed considerably. Sighing, he floated to the ship’s console and cast a dull eye, or three in fact, over the information panel. His fourth eye kept processing information from earth, now in real time as news flooded in. All systems normal. Earth in the shits.

An Architect’s job was to design the future of planets. To steer them towards joining the rest of the galaxy in harmony and trust. Although these humans had progressed greatly in a short time, it seemed unlikely they would be ready to even comprehend the universe as it was, their minds too small and selfish to see past the obvious.

Having been dismayed at Earth’s lack of development on his previous visit, Groshkek had given the planet technologies and kick-started the industrial revolution - a small amount of meddling designed to bring the planet into line. A mistake. Technology came too swiftly now to these creatures. The planet was warming up, forests destroyed and ice caps melting. Incompetent leaders and a commercial society lead to vast poverty and no overall goal. Groshkek thought to destroy the planet and end the project but surmised that, in time, their new AI robotic obsession will end them anyway. Better to save the quantum blaster for another target. He almost felt sorry for the denizens of this back water. Almost.

Groshkek moved to his console and worked his magic. He started by escalating the protests in Hong Kong, then the death of George Floyd and mass protests in the world’s most powerful nation… human rights need some attention. They oppress themselves with an impressive obliviousness.

The death of Kobe Bryant. Bushfires in Australia. Royals stepping down. Earthquake in the Philippines. Derailed trains in China. Stock-market crash. Explosion in Beirut. All balanced and poised to make the humans think. But not enough. A documentary by David Attenborough on climate change, Bilkis Dadi, The Tiger King…Thought provoking maybe, but humans are stubborn and selfish. Something bigger. Something that changes the very way they live, day to day. A virus?! This needs a steady hand.

Moments later Groshkek floated backwards and sighed, not his best work but still... he wasn’t Fifth Architect of The Bertept for nothing. 2020 would be a year to humble the human.

Groshkek let the year unfold and was happy. Cancelled Olympics and impeached presidents were just small side effects, it was the changes to life almost straight away, globally, and locally, that mattered. People began to look after one another. Things became less commercial, more local. Values slowly changed.

Just a few samples now to take, send a quick report to Bertept Prime and then onto the next wasteland. Probes blasted to the planet and sunk into the atmosphere picking up samples and making scans.
 
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Rob and Frank sat in the Stag’s Head Pub. A pint of plain in front of each of them. No music played and the place was quiet. Perfect. Two drinker’s operating at a different pace to the world outside.

Frank looks to the door as it swings open, “Jaysus!” as he raises an eyebrow. Rob looks up from his lap and straightens his posture, knowing what that means. His eyes take in an awesome sight as he finishes rolling his pinner, placing it in his pocket. Red dress, long legs. Gorgeous and knows it. Ready for a night out. Rob curls a small smile, “Jay…”, and was gone.

“sus…” had he blinked? An instant headache grabbed him and hauled him down to an abyss of pain and confusion. Something was wrong; there was no woman at the door, Frank was talking gibberish. His pint was full, had he not drunk half of it? The air felt heavy. The light was different. He passed out.

Some samples died instantly from shock, and others accepted their new reality in time. Some species were very adaptable, reptilian mostly. Mammalian species tended to have mental breakdowns under stress and Groshkek had expected his sample to do just that.

Rob came-to, a pint of plain and a pinner in his hand. Happy out, he sipped his pint and lit up. This simulation chamber was a steppingstone to his new life. In time he might accept his abduction, but he must be led easily into it. A lot of work for such a simple creature.

Groshkek studied his sample amiably conversing with simulations around him. By the end of the night they had changed venue three times, sang songs, drank deep and smoked too much. Groshkek had not analysed this side of humanity, always looking at the grander side of society. He had never watched a simple mind with such interest. They had made friends and lost them, seen humanity at its best, and worst. Spent money they didn’t have to spare without thought of consequence, damaged their bodies for the hell of it with poisonous substances and liquids, laughed loudly, danced, and slept long afterwards. No simulation had ever been so successful. Nothing had ever unlocked this side to the humans before. Groshkek wanted in.

Rob came-to, a pint of plain and a pinner in his hand. Happy out, he sipped his pint and lit up. Frank looks to the door as it swings open, “Jaysus!” as he raises an eyebrow. Rob looks up from his lap and straightens his posture, knowing what that means. His eyes take in an awesome sight. Red dress, long legs. Ready for a night out. Gorgeous and knows it. Rob curls a small smile, “Jaysus”.

Frank’s eyebrow raises further as red dress moves straight to Rob and pulls up a seat up. A mixture of disbelief and envy on his face.

“Howya, I’m Rob” and with a handshake, that was it. Groshkek drank deep, laughed loudly, and smoked too much. Rob shared all without reservation and ego. Groshkek was welcome at his table. As the night went on Groshkek shed his feminine mammalian shape, became floatier and rounder. His eyes doubled and his hair fell out. Night over, Rob embraced his floating friend in a hug and hit the road. They all slept long that night.
The simulation was run numerous times, with the same result. Had Groshkek misjudged these creatures? Time for the ultimate test.

Rob floated in a small room made of forcefields with no walls on all sides but one, no longer in a simulation. Earth sat below and empty space spread out on all sides.

“Jaysus”

A hatch opened in the wall and in floated Groshkek on his hover cart. He was 5 times the size of Rob and made a bee line right for him. Floating and alone, Rob lit his pinner and watched the mass of Groshkek approach, concern growing as he took in his surroundings.

“Ah, Groshkek, ‘tis yourself. Good to see you again. Where are we?”

Humans were not an accepting race. No other abductees had ever accepted their reality so quickly, but Groshkek knew then that Rob accepted him for who he was, despite not knowing what he was.

Groshkek explained the galaxy to Rob and that the fate of humanity rested with the Architects. He explained the virus and meddling by superior beings, where casualties were expected and pain all part of progress. He did so without guilt or remorse, for he felt none.

Rob smoked and listened. He shared his pinner with Groshkek who smoked greedily. The weed, kept in Rob’s pocket since his abduction, was no simulation and Groshkek felt lightheaded. Now he floated upside down. His mind felt free of its usual calculations and considerations.

“Groshkek,” Rob looked into his eyes, “empathy is what makes us human. It defines us. We bond in stories, history and the craic. Your improvements have helped, but your meddling has caused suffering you cannot understand. Suffering is our greatest strength. Progress is relative. Every life matters.”
That was deadly, Rob thought to himself as he pirouetted in mid-air, now relighting his pinner, trying to salvage the end.
Groshkek looked back at the little human and sighed. Sometimes revelations can come from surprising places.
 
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Frank looks to the door as it swings open, “Jaysus!”, he raises a brow. Rob straightens his posture knowing what that means, his eyes taking in an awesome sight, Red dress, long legs. Ready for a night out. Gorgeous and knows it. Rob curls a small smile, “Jaysus”.
Red dress walks past without so much as a nod, why expect anything different?

As the night wore on, friends were made and lost. They drank deep, laughed loudly, and smoked too much. Talked of miracle cures and vaccines, of bad dreams and a sense of déjà vu, of life back to a new and better normal since the virus, and of a better 200 years to come, of how being blazed can make you numbly accept your reality or, perhaps, see things in their simplest form.

By: Anonymous

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