125

Your new ambition surprises even you. The planet is made of rock, is it not? You may not know why rocks enjoy the erratic kind of music they do, but certainly you can play it back for them. You don’t know why they enjoy people who feel a variety of emotions, but you can make that state of affairs more frequent. You’ve always wanted to be an ethical researcher, and it strikes you that it isn’t exactly ethical to spend years of your life learning how to spread happiness without actually doing a single thing to spread it.

Not all of those you work with think this is a good idea. That’s okay—you didn’t expect them to. Some of them call you a crackpot; others say that you’ve gone eccentric with wealth. You don’t mind. You are pleasantly surprised to find that two of your scientific assistants are loyal enough—and have enough faith in you—to pledge their continued service for minimal pay, despite the damage it may do their reputations in the scientific community. You invite them to live on your little plot of land, which you expand for their sakes, given that humans need more space than lizards.

As you publicize the project you have in mind, you draw further willing helpers. Even though your experiment—or, more properly, ‘project’—is far from immediately feasible, the prospect of making the whole earth happy appeals to a wide variety of groups, most of them outside the scientific community. You can’t afford to pay them all, but that’s all right—eventually what emerges is a commune of people working to support each other and pooling their extra money toward the Happy Earth project.

It's all located around the land you originally bought, which of course adjoins the border of the land of Lord Inen, Inferior Councilor to the Throne and your former liege. He is also Secretary of Health, and as such takes an interest in what you’re doing. At first you covet the opportunity to gain funding from a lord who trusts you, given the idyllic nature of your prior relationship. It soon becomes apparent, however, that he is skeptical of the entire concept and is willing to pass legislation to get in your way if you don’t assuage him.

“Making the whole planet happy—even if that concept makes any sense and your theory isn’t a huge sky dream—is potentially dangerous,” he argues. “What if—just to name one objection—the planet decides that it’s happiest without people on it? What if all it really wants is to be left alone? What then?”

“That isn’t possible,” you protest. “The rocks we test consistently appear to enjoy the presence of animals and people. But if somehow it were the case that the planet wanted us to leave it alone...well.” Your voice falls. “Then I think we would indeed have the duty to leave! After all...it was...it was here first.”

Lord Inen’s face grows dark. “What are you talking about? Would you have Armageddon strike? Would you have all life on earth die just to satisfy the rock at its core??”

“There might be some other possible arrangement,” you offer. “Perhaps the Earth has special knowledge that, over time, it could share with us. We might be able to use this knowledge to...to create another planet, somehow, or...move to another place.” In a lower voice yet, you add, “We might even come to be comfortable with the idea of not existing as people anymore.”

At this Lord Inen stands up and smacks the arm of a chair. “I’ve had enough of this absurdity. Modi, you’ve gone off the deep end since leaving my court. You won’t do any more research of this nature while I’m the Secretary of Health! Am I understood?”

You steel yourself, realizing that he expects an answer.

“You are understood, Lord Inen. Is there any possibility of reaching a compromise?” Section 200.

“Lord Inen, Vayellia’s laws do not canvas the world entire. If we cannot pursue our aims here, we will do so elsewhere.” Section 175.

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