A Worse Fate

This story contains a discussion of euthanasia.

No one spoke his name, not because they couldn’t, but because he had none now. It didn’t bother him. Perhaps he deserved it.

He struggled against his shackles, trying to move his slight frame into better position to see out the window. They had dropped out of interstellar speed once the spacecraft had entered the star system. Hoping to see an asteroid, or meteor, or anything at all, he strained his neck and rocked back and forth against the metallic wall of the ship. There was nothing, though - just the distant stars in their dotted patterns stretching out into infinite space. It was a peaceful, uncomplicated scene. He inhaled the stale, recycled air of the ship and sighed.

He wished he could stay up here forever.

”What do you want?” The voice came from the copilot in the cockpit, who had noticed the movement.

”Oh, nothing,” he said. “Just trying to see outside. When will we get close to the planet?”

“I’ll let you know what you need to know, when you need to know it.”

”You’re not even gonna give me a time frame?”

”Not long.”

”Yeah, what does that even mean?”

”It means shut up.”

He stared at the copilot, one of his many captors, but said nothing. He had learned that they had short tempers, and dismal ways of getting their point across.

At the tribunal, they had smiled as they informed him of his fate. The infamous Planet 93-Terra is where you’re going, said the judge. I take great pleasure in banishing you there for the rest of your life.

93-Terra struck fear in the hearts of all, especially lawbreakers. When space travel had become common, and it had become known that the universe was populated with a variety of races, it had soon become apparent that crime had migrated to space as well. Some crimes were worse than others, of course. Some planets were worse than others. Prison planets - lonely, sparse, oppressive hunks of rock buried in the corners of the galaxy, populated with the vilest aliens imaginable - were for the really bad guys. 93-Terra was the worst of the worst, a harsh rock good for very little. Many who were exiled there died. It was set aside for the worst offenders.

Offenders like him.

“Hey, cop,” he called.

The copilot did not respond.

”Hey, I need to talk to you.”

There was a pause and murmuring in the cockpit as his two escorts made a decision. With a sigh, the copilot glided back to the cargo hold and sat down. He fidgeted like a caged cheetah.

”Alright, prisoner, what do you want?”

“Have you been to this planet before?”

”I’ve transported other prisoners here several times.”

”Ok. So, I know the Rules of Society don’t apply to me. You don’t have to do anything I say. But you’re still a person. Can you show me a little kindness and at least tell me a bit about this place? Tell me what you know? You can just say it, and then you never have to talk to me again. I just need to know.”

“What do you need to know that you don’t know already?”

”I don’t know. Ok, look here. I know it’s got awful weather. Extreme. I’m gonna suffer, they said. I know it’s inhabited by aliens, nasty buggers. But I think everything else Ive heard is just myth or exaggeration.”

”What makes you say that?”

”Well, for example, is it true there’s warring factions all over the planet?”

”Yes it is. The war itself is over, but the planet is divided into hundreds of smaller factions, all of them mistrustful of one another. They battle regularly. Peace treaties mean nothing to them. You will be hated no matter where you are. The planet-wide unity we now have - that’s a pipe dream here.”

”Huh. What about the terrain? When was it terraformed?”

”It’s ancient. Many millions of years old. We didn’t terraform it, nor did any other alien race that we know of.”

”That we know of?”

”Look, the rumors are true. This place is the worst. Most of it isn’t livable. Not for us, anyway.” His captor grinned slightly, bringing to mind a cat who has his mouse cornered. “It’s perfect for folks like you. Unforgiving, dangerous. It’s out of the way. No respectable being of any race comes here besides the aliens who are already here. You’ll have to pick a spot and try to terraform it yourself. It may work, it may not. The food is barely palatable when it does grow. The local ‘government’, if you can call it that, will take part of your resources for itself. If you fail, no one will help you. It’s every man for himself. So what I’m saying is, this punishment fits your crime.”

The prisoner sighed. “You know I asked to be euthanized.”

The copilot snorted. “And you know that practice has been outlawed for a thousand years. Even for your lot.”

”Yeah, I know. ‘Death is too good for you,’ blah blah blah. But I got something to say about that real quick.”

”I don’t care.”

”I know, but I still need to say it. Just…let me say it.”

”Hurry up, I need to go back to the cockpit.”

”Thank you. I got the lecture already - we’ve evolved as a society, no death penalty. I get it. But think about it. Let’s say you take me out back and shoot me, like im a sick animal. How many seconds of time would I be in pain?”

”Not enough.”

”Exactly. So how much harm are you actually causing?”

The copilot shrugged.

“None, that’s the answer. And you know it. You just said I deserve even more pain. That’s what gets me about this whole thing. We say that our society has become one of pure altruism. The worst crime is selfishness. But in your quest to punish selfishness, you become selfish. The eradication of the death penalty is for you, not for me. Now that I’m going to this planet, I get to suffer for years instead of moments. That’s not for my benefit.”

”Yes it is. You get to think about what you did every day.”

”Ok, to what end? I’m here the rest of my life. How does that help our society back home?”

”It helps because you’re not in it. And perhaps you will change.”

”It helps society to torture me for years? That’s on you.”

”I didn’t write the Tenets.”

”Doesn’t matter, you’re culpable. You don’t want to euthanize me, not because you’re altruistic, but because you’re selfish. You’re not worried about my suffering. You just don’t want to clean up the mess.”

His companion remained silent.

“Yeah, our beautiful society. You love it. It benefits you. You get to fly back and be with your wife and kids, play, enjoy nature, whatever you want. It works for you.”

”The system benefitted you too. You just didn’t follow suit.”

”So? I’ve got my own mind. The real question is, how are you going to be able to continue to enjoy everything, knowing I’m here suffering? Doesn’t it bother you that you’ve caused a lifetime of misery?”

The copilot stood up. He made sure to stand extra tall, far above his seated prisoner. “As usual, Prisoner, you are working an angle. Time’s up. I’m not listening to this apostasy anymore.”

He turned to go back to the cockpit.

“Who’s the real bad guy here?” the prisoner called after him.

”There are no good or bad guys,” said the copilot over his shoulder. “Just generosity and selfishness.”

The prisoner slumped over.

He had hoped that his diatribe would lighten the load in his soul, but it had not. Perhaps, on 93-Terra, there were others like him, people who understood. Criminals.

The ship thudded against its landing pad. The prisoner felt his hearts beat harder.

Escorts appeared and gathered his chains and shackles. He was led to the entryway of the ship where the entire crew was gathered, motionless and at attention. The pilot took a position in front of him, wearing the safety suit that stood between him and the dangerous air outside. He unfurled a new scroll and began reading.

”Prisoner 69036, you have been charged with, and found guilty of, acts of extreme greed, which constitutes high treason by the Rules of Society. It is punishable to the fullest extent the Rules allow. You are hereby banished to Planet 93-Terra for the remainder of your days. You will be subject to the extreme heat and cold, the ground will not produce for you, and your body will slowly break down over many years as you serve your sentence. May the Almighty have mercy upon you. Do you have any final words before disembarking?”

Prisoner 69036 held his head high. “Yes. I know I broke the Tenets. I accumulated more land than I needed. I paid low wages to my workers. But I did not break any laws. I simply operated in the loopholes. Perhaps it is the system that needs to be banished, not me.”

The authorities who heard him remained quiet.

One soldier piped up, “Well, you’ll fit in just fine here.” Subdued chuckles went through the ranks.

The pilot nodded, and a soldier opened the hatch. A force field kept the atmosphere at bay for the moment. The prisoner was unshackled and given his safety suit - the one he would wear the rest of his life. It was tight as he slipped his gelatinous green appendages into it. The ends of his hands molded to the suit, filling the five cylinders and forming fingers. The rest of the suit went on without too much fuss, and it was fastened about his waist and bonded together.

At the end of a ramp stood two hideous aliens, whose forms looked just like his suit. He would blend in perfectly here. The local citizens were not allowed to know that there were interstellar inmates among them.

One of the creatures stepped forward. “This the prisoner?”

The pilot nodded.

”Fine,” said the alien. “Welcome to 93-Terra. The locals call it Earth. You are in the town of Roswell, and the year here is 1956. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Let’s get you to orientation.”