The Last Colony

“Oh my God,” Rybicki said, whispering the words.

 

The Roanoke turned on its axis, and the stars faded out, replaced by the immense glowing orb of a planet, blue and green and white.

 

“Welcome home, General,” I said.

 

“Earth,” Rybicki said, and anything he meant to say after that was lost in his need to stare at the world he left behind.

 

“You were wrong, General,” I said.

 

It took a second for Rybicki to shake himself out of his reverie. “What?” he said. “Wrong about what?”

 

“Coventry,” I said. “I looked it up. The British knew there was an attack coming. You were right about that. But they didn’t know where it would strike. The British didn’t sacrifice Coventry. And the Colonial Union shouldn’t have been willing to sacrifice Roanoke.”

 

“Why are we here?” Rybicki asked.

 

“You said it, General,” I said. “The Colonial Union will never join the Conclave. But maybe Earth might.”

 

“You’re going to take Earth into the Conclave,” Rybicki said.

 

“No,” I said. “We’re going to offer it a choice. We’re going to offer it gifts from each world of the Conclave. And then I’m going to offer it my gift.”

 

“Your gift,” Rybicki said.

 

“The truth,” I said. “All of it. About the Colonial Union and about the Conclave and about what happens when we leave our homeworld and come out to the universe. The Colonial Union is free to run its worlds however it wants, General. But this world gets to decide for its own. Humanity and the Colonial Union aren’t going to be interchangeable anymore. Not after today.”

 

Rybicki looked at me. “You don’t have the authority to do this,” he said. “To make this decision for all these people.”

 

“I may not have the authority,” I said. “But I have the right.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Rybicki said.

 

“I think I do,” I said. “I’m changing the world.”

 

Out the window another ship popped into view. I raised my PDA; on the screen was a simple representation of Earth. Around the glowing circle dots appeared, singly, doubly, in groups and in constellations. And when they all arrived, they began broadcasting, all of them, a message of welcome, in as many human languages as could receive them, and a stream of data, unencrypted, catching up Earth on decades of history and technology. The truth, as near as I could tell it. My gift to the world that had been my home, and which I hoped would be again.

 

 

 

 

 

SIXTEEN

 

 

I didn’t recognize him at first. Partly this was because of where I was seeing him. It was odd enough that I would be on the steps of the U.S. House of Representatives; to see him there was entirely unexpected. It was also partly because he looked rather older than I remembered him being. And partly because he wasn’t green.

 

“General Szilard,” I said. “This is a surprise.”

 

“It was intended to be,” he said.

 

“You look different,” I said.

 

“Yes, well,” Szilard said. “Now that the Colonial Union has to deal with human governments here on Earth, one of the things we’ve discovered is that the politicians here don’t take us very seriously if we look like we usually do.”

 

“It’s not easy being green,” I said.

 

“Indeed not,” Szilard said. “So I’ve made myself look older and pinker. It seems to be working.”

 

“I assume you’re not telling them that you’re not old enough to rent a car,” I said.

 

“I don’t see the need to confuse them any more than they are,” Szilard said. “Do you have a minute? There are things to say.”

 

“I’m done with my testifying for today,” I said. “I have time.”

 

Szilard looked around me in an exaggerated fashion. “Where’s your mob of reporters?”

 

“Oh, that,” I said. “General Gau’s testifying before the Senate Intelligence Committee today. I was just talking to a House agricultural subcommittee. There was a single public access camera there and that was it. It’s been months since anyone bothered to follow me around, anyway. Aliens are more interesting.”

 

“How the mighty have fallen,” Szilard said.

 

“I don’t mind,” I said. “It was nice to be on magazine covers for a while, but it gets old. Do you want to walk?”

 

“By all means,” Szilard said. We set off in the direction of the Mall. Occasionally someone would glance my way—off magazine covers or not, I was still all-too-recognizable—but residents of D.C. were proudly jaded regarding famous politicians, which I now suppose I was, for lack of a better term.

 

“If you don’t mind me asking, General,” I said, “why are you here?”

 

John Scalzi's books