Unbeknown to them the Hydrans were being judged. Their future was in Chameakegra’s hands.
The H-Craft Neff was quiet, it’s corridors empty. The agile Xerc were taking the opportunity to carry out maintenance, their lithe blue bodies swarming through the interior ducting and outside over the surface of the craft; probably more to steer clear of being bossed around by being out of the way rather than there being any real need. Best to be busy or at least appear busy. Deck after deck was full of various personnel, harnessing the might of Neff’s enormous processing and information gathering power, engrossed in meticulously sorting and categorising the Hydrans. The arduous task was mainly being carried out by the large lumbering amphibian Leff, who were ideally suited to spending hours handling data, although there were sprinklings of other races including their amphibian Solarian colleagues, the odd reptilian Giforian or two and even a reptilian Achec and mammalian Jerb. Everyone was incredibly focussed. They all knew the importance of getting this right. They were involved in a revolutionary new experiment. That brought an air of excitement. The department heads, mainly Giforian, Jerb, Achec and Marlan, had very little to do other than join in with their staff in setting up programmes, guiding the AI through the task of separating Hydran personality types. Whenever Chameakegra or her second in command the Minorian Graffa made their rounds the department heads were always eager to engage in sharing their progress. Chameakegra and Graffa listened with feigned interest as their dedicated staff eulogised about their findings.
Of an evening Chameakegra would peruse the accumulating lists as her staff proceeded with the task of refining their programmes and categorising the entire population of Hydra. If the Hydrans were going to have any future then it was necessary to accurately separate the greedy, belligerent, power-mad and narcissistic from the pleasant, well-balanced and creative types. The new process of assessment was lengthy and thorough. It was also highly unusual. If it had not been for Chameakegra’s intervention the process of assessment of the culture as a whole would, as normal, we swift and simple. Following the judgement the Hydrans would either have been fast-tracked into the Federation or quickly eradicated. Chameakegra had taken the process of judging a whole culture to apply it to analysing individuals – something much more complex and difficult. Now they were all paying the price and having to work hard. Interestingly, nobody seemed to be complaining. They were busy. Eight billion Hydrans had to be accurately assessed and categorised.
By far the biggest group of Hydrans were the well-adjusted citizens. The number of creatives and those in need of adjustment were much smaller groups and fairly equal in numbers. Chameakegra liked the way it was going. They were successfully identifying the malevolent. It was what was going to happen next that troubled her. Could greedy and violent be treated? Could a cruel disposition be successfully changed? She wondered.
For the moment, under the ruling, these Hydrans were destined for euthanasia. Chameakegra wondered. The therapists she had at her disposal might just be able to do something. Could she persuade Judge Booghramakegra to give that a try or was she pushing boundaries too far?
Of an evening, in her cabin, Chameakegra found herself pondering the outcome of her plan. Nobody had ever attempted this before. They were in unknown territory. When the mentally disturbed, the violent and avaricious, were removed would Hydran culture settle into a positive mode and blossom? Were the Hydrans inherently good or, once the evil had been cut out, would exactly the same problems start to re-emerge in the ones remaining? Only time would tell.
Chameakegra knew that her reputation hung on the result. Not that she was bothered. The whole Federation would be watching. If this experiment worked it might form the template for future operations. A lot hung on this outcome. All that mattered to Chameakegra was the possibility of preserving much of the best of Hydran culture and art. That is what drove her. She’s felt the worth of that culture: it had touched her deeply.
Soon, her job would be over. When all the Hydrans had been categorised she would hand over to someone appointed to carry out the separation process. That was not an area she would be involved in. A deep sadness welled up when she thought about it. She could only hope that Beheggakegri made the right appointment and the excision was carried out humanely.
Chameakegra sat in her commander’s pexi while the operation went on around her. A green light flashed on her comulator. She had a message.
‘I am intrigued by the possibilities this experiment opens up. For that reason I have taken leave so that I might stay involved. I am eager to witness the outcome. Keep me informed with regular reports so that I can monitor progress. Judge Booghramakegra.’
Chameakegra reread the message as a blue wave of satisfaction spread across her scutes. Perhaps she had an ally?
