The meeting of the Galactic Federation Council had gone smoothly so far, but the General knew acrimony would soon set in. It was a given that the Environmental faction of the Council would oppose the General’s choice of location to test the Federation’s latest weapon.

The military needed to know how the weapon’s use would affect objects in proximity to the target, the General had argued. Simply blasting a solitary body in the interstellar void would not produce the necessary data. The test range had to include a star system with planets.

The system the General’s team had selected consisted of a middle-aged yellow dwarf star with eight planets orbiting in more or less the same plane. The system was also relatively isolated—no other systems within two parsecs. The chosen system was by far the most ideal test range his researchers had turned up. But there was a problem—the system did have one intelligent species.

         The General finished his presentation, retracted his eyestalks, and deformed into his resting place. There was a flurry of movement. Sounds of every conceivable pitch and timbre filled the Great Hall as the Council reacted. The leader of the Enviros, a unimorph like himself, signaled his intent to respond. The Enviros—may their accursed pseudopods lack rigidity at the Mating Moment—categorically resisted any measure that threatened any life form, no matter how primitive.

The Enviro leader formed a cylinder to elevate (the General noted the flabbiness of his shape with disdain). He began. “It is the responsibility of advanced species to nurture those that are still becoming. The Federation has always done this. It is the main corollary to the principle that all life is precious.”

         Eyes, eyestalks, and sensory organs of every description turned toward the General to hear his response. The head of the Federation’s military rose in a tightly formed, perfectly symmetrical cylinder and said, “I would remind the Councilor of the long struggle we fought with the Nanobites, the vicious bacterial scourge of Rigel IV. What was so damn precious about them? If we had not discovered the dematerializer, we might well have lost the war.”

         Thanks to the Federation’s new weapon, there was now no more Rigel IV, and smaller versions of the dematerializer had effectively wiped out the remaining Nanobite colonies.

         Eyestalks etc. swiveled back toward the Enviro Councilor. “That was a different matter,” he said. “I concede the General’s point that enemy species are not precious. I was referring to our constitutional duty to life forms that either are presently intelligent or on the way to sentience.”

         “Councilor,” the General responded, “it is a long established scientific fact that sentience is strictly a matter of accident. Sentience is not inevitable. Some species develop it, some don’t.” The General’s mien assumed a rictus that indicated humor was to follow. “I couldn’t help but notice that my esteemed colleague enjoyed the crilla served at lunch today, despite knowing that the tiny beasts might one day become intelligent.”

         Eyestalks etc. swung back to the Enviro Councilor for his response. The Enviro extended two pseudopods and let them droop, the unimorph expression of regret. “Unfortunately, the system the General has selected for his test range contains several species that are already crudely sentient. One species actually qualifies as intelligent.”

         “The species in question has no advanced technology,” the General replied. “It hasn’t even discovered interstellar propulsion.”

         “That is not a criterion,” the Enviro pointed out. “There are several Federation member species that have no technology because they do not need it. Their mental powers are that advanced.” He nodded in the direction of the Council President, a mentis, a pyramid-shaped being whose mental powers could replicate any feat of technology.

         The Enviro leader had a point. The General could feel the battle slipping away and resorted to the plan he had hoped to avoid because of its costs. He asked, “I understand my colleague’s concern, but I would remind the Council again of the importance of this new weapon. What if we resettle the species in question? My legal attaché informs me that there are several precedents for this. As a matter of fact, one of the species in the target system was itself a product of relocation.”

         No Council member wanted to appear soft in the wake of the near-debacle of the Nanobite War. Even the Enviro faction had backed the campaign against the vicious life form. The Enviro leader asked the mentis for a short review of the precedents the General had referenced. The President obliged, and after a tedious recitation of ten precedents the Enviros were finally satisfied.

The faction’s leader formed again and said, “Thank you, President. But please note that the species in each of the cited precedents voluntarily agreed to be resettled. There were no forced relocations. Therefore I propose the following: if the species agrees to be relocated, then I propose that the General’s request be granted. If the species does not agree, then the General will unfortunately have to continue his search.”

         The General’s hearts sank.  Most species have a powerful bond to their home planet and seldom relocate voluntarily. Odds were that his proposal would fail. Oh well, the universe was large. He’d find a suitable test range.

         The General, the Enviro leader, and three at-large Council members were appointed to the Committee formed to negotiate with the species in question. The Committee took a small hyperspace jumper to the General’s proposed target and beamed up several members of the species (mammals, that is, beings who incredibly bore their young in an internal sack).

The mammals were initially delighted to learn of other life forms in the universe (something they had long suspected). However, when the Federation’s real agenda was revealed, the mammals were shocked and retreated to caucus among themselves. They returned with a barrage of questions about the relocation process, the proposed new home, and how many of them would actually be relocated. The Committee assured them that all willing members of their species would be accommodated and gave a hologram presentation of their new home, a close match selected from a catalogue of habitable but as yet uninhabited planets.

         The mammals caucused again, and then reconvened. To the Committee’s utter astonishment, the mammals agreed to the relocation with enthusiasm, but requested time to canvass their population. Within two revolutions of their planet, the mammals reported back, saying that their people had voted overwhelmingly in favor of relocation.

***

         The Federation command vessel popped out of hyperspace into normal space. A cruiser equipped with the new test weapon appeared alongside, followed in quick succession by three ships bearing technicians, scientists, and observers.

After shaking off the hyperdrive hangover, the General allowed himself a brief moment of celebration. All told, things had gone well. The Council had approved his proposal, relations with the Enviro faction had actually gotten a little better, and the relocation of the mammals had gone much more smoothly than expected.

He extended an eyestalk to peer at the target, a pretty blue sphere with white hydrogen-oxygen vapor drifting through its atmosphere. The scientists had suggested dematerializing the mammal’s home planet first, just to spare the few who chose to remain the unpleasant sight of the other planets in the system winking out one by one.

He ordered the engineering team to ready the new Federation weapon, a cannon version of the dematerializer. Instead of dropping a bomb on the target, the new weapon fired a ray, permitting much more precise targeting.

The General glanced at the ship’s chronometer. It was time. He gave the signal and watched as the system’s third planet vanished.

***

         At the same time their old world was being dematerialized, the transplanted mammals were happily exploring their new planet. Its three moons would take some getting used to, but all in all, it was a far more pleasant world than they had imagined. It was actually a big improvement over the one they had left. There was only one predator to fear, but the huge reptile was so slow and stupid that evasion was easy.

Better, there was no belligerent land-dwelling species to foul the clean water with the explosions of incessant warfare and the detritus of their society.

Better yet, there were no nets to occasionally sweep them up as collateral fodder.

Best of all, the fish were delicious and plentiful.

The dolphins were very happy.

Author’s note: this story was inspired by the marvelous opening number in the movie version of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.