"Report freely, Elilandemilaki."

"This planet has sapient inhabitants."

"You found Gems on an alien planet?"

"No, although the resemblance is startling. It's the organics. Sapient organic life."

"Elilandemilaki, the Diamond Communicators are for serious business, not youthful pranks."

"I assure you, I've never been more serious in my life. I didn't believe the initial reports either, but I've verified them myself. I have learned one of the local languages and had several extended conversations with the people of Earth, and I think they represent an opportunity far more valuable than a handful of quartz-bearing kindergartens."

"Elilandemilaki, I commend your drive to improve the lot of Gemkind, even by looking in...unorthodox...places, but I'm not quite sure how it is that organics are supposed to represent a valuable opportunity for the Empire."

"Let's hear her out before we make judgments," murmurs Evandemilaki.

"Thank you, Evandemilaki," she says, bowing her head slightly.

"The essential point is this: Organic life takes far fewer resources to create than Gems. A planet such as Earth can host enough kindergartens to produce a few million viable Gems before we exhaust the available minerals or drain the local ecosystem past recovery, but according to my preliminary calculations, the same planet could sustain a population of billions of these 'humans' for millions or billions of years. They aren't immortal, but given sufficient resources - a tiny fraction of what would be required to produce a comparable number of Gems - they create enough new humans each year to more than replace the ones who die, and I can think of a few promising avenues for extending their lifespan. If we found a place for them in our society, the resource they represent - the industrial base, the expanded population from which to draw inventors, engineers, artists, architects... I can hardly even find the words to articulate the potential gains. We'd have trouble integrating them into the existing structure of our society, of course, but I have faith in our organizational abilities. And we wouldn't necessarily need much contact between humans and the rest of the Empire, particularly not at first. I think, given a few decades for initial setup, I could turn this planet into the basis for an entire new branch of the Empire."

"It rather sounds as though you're presenting them as 'like Ambers, but moreso.'"

"Like Ambers with less than a fifth of the incubation time, and hardly requiring any effort at all to produce - humans create more humans without any outside intervention, they've been doing it since long before I arrived. And a similar problem with unpredictable psychology, but they make up for it with the numbers; I think I'd be up to the challenge of sorting through a population of humans and matching them with suitable tasks, and even if only half of every generation was worth training for anything more complicated than maintaining the rest of their kind, that's still an unprecedentedly enormous population of useful subjects. I really do think I can make it work."

"Would there even be time to train them to do anything worthwhile? How long do they live?"

"I haven't studied that question in depth yet; this is only a preliminary report. But I have identified several of the primary causes of death in their population, and many of them can be trivially eliminated using our technology."

"I can understand why these reports would look...promising, on the surface of it. But I think you're underestimating the disruptive effect these organics would have on our society. The turnover you're suggesting would be highly detrimental to systems that require long-term experience and stability, not to mention the potential psychological effects they might have on real Gems."

"I understand your concerns. I definitely wouldn't expect to integrate humans into the Empire anytime soon. But I'm very, very reluctant to throw this resource away without investigating fully."

"Elilandemilaki, you were sent to that planet to produce Gems, not to play in the mud with unusually complicated flesh-things."

"The proposal is interesting, but I'm not sure we need it. And I find little intrinsic appeal in the prospect of adding a billion crude organic imitations of Ambers to our empire, however useful you expect them to be."

"It's a clever idea," Lisandemilaki says, more gently. "I can certainly see why you would get attached to it. But you'll learn, with time, that not all clever ideas are good ones. We have to prioritize our people. Real Gems."

"I want what's best for the empire, and I believe that the best thing I can do for the empire is to pursue this project."

"Well...you are a Diamond. If you really want to experiment with these things, perhaps you could find and alter some nice moon or dwarf planet for the purposes? But we really do need the Quartzes this planet represents."

Elilandemilaki considers this suggestion for a few seconds, then shakes her head. "I don't yet know what conditions would be required to sustain a human population outside their native planet, and if I move ahead with the Quartz production too quickly, I could end up destroying one of the crucial components of their ecosystem before I have time to identify it."

"I thought you said they were easy to produce and maintain?"

"They are. That doesn't mean I can make them appear out of thin air with a wave of my hand," Elilandemilaki says dryly. "And I haven't yet studied the exact parameters in enough depth to be confident that I could create and maintain a human colony elsewhere."

"If it's not possible to maintain them in conditions that can already be found on Gem-controlled planets, it sounds as though your integration idea would require radically altering the dozens of planets we already have."

"Not at all. Think of it as just another iteration of the same challenges we faced in learning to create Corals, Ambers, and Pearls. If we'd drained the biosphere on Daraisalu before Evandemilaki discovered that amber came from trees, we might never have figured it out. And after we found our first piece of natural coral it took us three more planets before we understood enough about it to start using it to make Gems. We're not going to get three chances to study humans. The odds of organic life developing sapience must be incredibly low, and even though there are a lot of commonalities, we've never found the same species of organic life on two different worlds. Once I understand humans, I'm confident I'll be able to maintain them with minimal disruption to our existing planets. And if they turn out to be unsustainably delicate, I can always cancel the project."

"Those planets had less essential mineral composition."

"The planet's mineral composition isn't going anywhere."

"She does have a point."

"You've said that this is a preliminary report and you need more time to study this planet," says Evandemilaki. "Very well: take more time. We can reconvene to discuss this situation again in forty days, by which time I anticipate you will be much better informed about the nature and maintenance requirements of your... humans."

She nods.

"Yes, Evandemilaki. I think that is very reasonable. Thank you."

"I look forward to hearing your report."

Elilandemilaki smiles. "I look forward to writing it."

And Evandemilaki closes the channel.

So.

She directs all her resources toward studying the locals. There's some disbelief from her subordinates, but she explains her reasoning, with adjustments for individual variation, and nearly everyone who initially expressed doubt ends up understanding where she's coming from.

Forty days go by. It's not enough time to answer all her questions, but it's a very good start. And she's more sure than ever that bringing humans into the empire is the right decision. It would be a criminal waste to kill them all.

In the control room on the moon base, she opens a channel to Homeworld.

"Initial results are promising," she says.

"Continue."

"I don't yet have a complete picture of how to sustain a human population offplanet, but I've confirmed my impression that it's going to be easy once I'm familiar with the details. It's amazing how organic life can be simultaneously so fragile and so robust... I have a much clearer idea now of what I'm going to need to do to get this planet where I want it to be. I don't think I'll need any further resource investment from Homeworld - just time and the Gems and supplies I have with me."

"Can you supply us with more detail than that?"

"Many of the finer details depend on background knowledge. Understanding organic life requires... a bit of a paradigm shift. But I've made great strides in narrowing down which parts of this planet's environment are necessary to human survival and which are incidental, and a few initial forays into teaching the humans useful skills have shown excellent results for the amount of time taken."

Lisandemilaki frowns, concerned. "What do you mean, 'a bit of a paradigm shift'?"

"They don't work on the same principles we do. They have different needs, different strengths, different weaknesses. It's fascinating, really. You won't have to worry about me getting bored out here."

"Bored," she says carefully, "is not and has never been my primary concern for you."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be."

Evandemilaki is frowning slightly in the shadow of her hood.

"I don't think this is going to work," she says.

That is... not promising.

"What do you mean?"

She spends a few seconds thinking over her next words.

Then:

"The only two Gem species in which we have completely halted production despite having the resources to make more are Ambers and Corals. In both cases, the sticking point is the difficulty and expense of creating a consistent result. Those are also the only two Gem species that develop in constant contact with specific organic lifeforms. Pearls used to have similar problems, until we developed the technology to grow them artificially. It seems clear that the organic influence is what causes that instability. Perhaps someday we will learn how to grow Ambers and Corals without their messy organic substrates, but how would we create an inorganic human? I understand your enthusiasm. I trust your assessment of the potential gains. But I don't think you fully understand the risks."

"...I see where you're coming from," says Elilandemilaki. "I agree that I was overly idealistic to think of integrating them into the empire. But even with minimal contact, minimal opportunity for organic instability to affect Gem society as a whole, I still think the humans can be useful enough to justify the time it will take me to remove them from their planet."

"How?"

"We could use my human planet, wherever I end up settling them, as a manufacturing center. Right now, eighty percent of Spinels work in factories. I don't think that's an optimally fulfilling role for them; I think that if we didn't need Gems to do those jobs, the Spinels who are currently building our vehicles and assembling our warp pad maintenance equipment could be happier working alongside the lucky twenty percent as artists and calligraphers and librarians."

"Is it only Gems that organic creation has a negative effect on?" she asks, half to Elilandemilaki and half to Evandemilaki.

"It seems obvious that in a wholly organic creature the effect would be worse. But tell us, Elilandemilaki, how stable and predictable are your humans?"

"Not very," she admits. "But if I keep them isolated from the rest of the Empire, there won't be any societal repercussions."

"I was actually not referring to the 'humans,' but to the hypothetical products of their manufacture."

"...I acknowledge Evandemilaki's point about Corals and Ambers, although I think further study might be needed to discover whether the correlation is meaningful; I think the idea that products of human manufacture could be somehow unavoidably tainted by their origin is... much less plausible than that."

"Your point is acknowledged."

"Regardless," says Evandemilaki. "It's possible that you could make use of the humans as you describe, Elilandemilaki. But I don't think we need you to, and I don't want to see you wasting centuries of your life trying to organize millions of inherently disorderly creatures into a functioning industrial society."

"We don't have billions of Spinels to need replacing."

"I disagree with your conclusions," says Elilandemilaki.

"Then explain your reasoning."

"I don't like to waste things. Eradicating the humans would be an enormous waste."

"One's personal likes and dislikes are not grounds to allocate significant resources."

"I'm hardly choosing the design of my Pearl here, Mirandemilaki. My dislike of waste is not a trivial aesthetic preference; it's a practical rule grounded in practical reasoning, and I think it has a place in this conversation."

"I do appreciate your perspective, Elilandemilaki, but in this case I don't think it's a sufficient reason to delay the development of your first planet any longer."

"I agree completely."

Lisandemilaki doesn't look entirely happy. But she conspicuously fails to disagree.

"I truly believe that proceeding on schedule with the eradication of Earth's biosphere is the wrong decision," says Elilandemilaki.

"Your opinion has been noted."

She takes a moment to collect herself.

"Evandemilaki," she says, addressing the most senior Diamond directly, "I want a chance. I can develop this opportunity without causing any disruption to the rest of the Empire. If the project doesn't go well, I can cancel it and resume Quartz production at any time. I don't think we lose anything by taking the time to investigate the usefulness of humans."

"It would only give you more time to get attached to an ultimately unworkable idea. No."

"Lisandemilaki? Your opinion?"

"I am sorry, but I must agree with Evandemilaki."

She sighs.

"Very well. I recognize the council's decision, and I will proceed appropriately with the original plan."

"Good."

Lisandemilaki shoots Mirandemilaki a disapproving look and gives Elilandemilaki a warm, relieved smile.

She smiles back, not without some disappointment, and ignores Mirandemilaki entirely.

"I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"Thank you. I'm sure you'll make us proud."

Evandemilaki closes the channel.

And Elilandemilaki resumes production according to the original plan.

Some of her people were getting attached to the humans they interacted with. She assigns these people to the subproject of relocating humans away from the kindergartens. There's no reason to start a conflict early by telling the humans their entire planet is going to die; coaxing them into leaving the areas she wants to develop is cheaper and easier than evicting them by force.

As the project continues, she reassigns some of her people onto or off of Earth, usually because she wants their particular skills deployed on a particular task, sometimes because of personality conflicts with other Gems under her command. It's all in the written reports that she files regularly. Earth is back on track.

A little more than one local year after she resumed production, Earth's interstellar warp pad becomes inexplicably inoperative.

Lisandemilaki doesn't think twice about Elilandemilaki's relocations. If there's one thing she trusts her fellow Diamond to be absolutely competent with, it's people.

She is the first one to notice the warp pad's malfunction. She leaves it be, for a while, assuming that something was damaged on Earth and shall soon be repaired.

The first thing Evandemilaki notices is that the scheduled time for the latest report from Earth has come and gone and no report has materialized. This is concerning; Elilandemilaki is far too organized to let a deadline slip by like that. Something must have happened.

She makes a private call on the Diamond channel. The channel sends back an automated message indicating that Elilandemilaki is out of her office at the moment but will be returning in four hours. Evandemilaki is content to wait.

Four hours later, Elilandemilaki calls back.

It's obvious that something is wrong from the moment her image appears, although Evandemilaki can't quite pinpoint exactly what gives her that impression.

"Elilandemilaki. Your latest progress report is now almost half a day late."

"I know," she says.

"I'm seceding from the Gem Empire."

Evandemilaki is stunned speechless.

"My reasons are not relevant and I don't believe you'd understand them if I explained. I wish you all the best and don't intend to initiate any conflicts, but I claim this star system and everyone in it. I've prepared technical notes on a cover story you can use to minimize the disruption to the empire. It's very plausible. A previously undiscovered quirk of the planet's composition caused magma breakouts at all our significant construction sites, destroying our warp pads and kindergartens, killing everyone on the planet, and rendering it unfit for further use. You can declare the star system a memorial site and forbid anyone from visiting."

"...Why?"

"It really doesn't matter. Goodbye, Evandemilaki."

She sends the file on the cover story and then closes the channel.

Evandemilaki sits quietly for several minutes, gathering her thoughts.

Then she calls the other two senior Diamonds.

"Yes?"

"What is it, Diamond?"

...After a few seconds, she realizes she isn't going to be able to explain. She plays a recording of her conversation with Elilandemilaki instead.

"WHAT!?"

Lisandemilaki is stunned as speechless as Evandemilaki was.

"I... don't understand what she is doing," says Evandemilaki. "But I believe her when she says she doesn't mean us any harm."

"You must be joking. How could this do anything but harm?"

She frowns slightly and shakes her head. Perhaps Lisandemilaki will understand well enough to explain.

"If Elilandemilaki meant us harm, she had a thousand better means of doing it. Given what she is doing--her actions, not her motivations--she has taken every step possible to minimize the harm to the rest of us should we accept it."

"You're not seriously considering it."

"If we do as we suggested, there will be... minimal disruption to the Empire. If we contest her claim... the disruption will be immense."

"In the short term. Do you really want to set the precedent that anyone who makes it troublesome to go after them can defy the Diamond Authority with impunity?"

"Elilandemilaki is a Diamond, whatever her actions. And if we--allow this--no one will ever know to allow it to set any more precedent than we wish."

"She may be a Diamond, but she herself decrees she is no member of the Diamond Authority. And do you really want to bet the future stability of the Empire on the idea that no one will ever find out the truth?"

Evandemilaki hesitates.

"If we let it be known that she seceded now, we invite that destabilization now."

"If it is let it be known she got away with it."

"The knowledge that she thought of it at all would be destabilizing!"

"The fact that prolonged, active contact with organics is even more disruptive than we had previously been led to believe need not be."

She shakes her head. "They would still learn that Diamonds are fallible."

"You are too paranoid, Mirandemilaki. The odds that the truth should come to light are miniscule, and even if it did, damage control would be possible. What you suggest is far more dangerous."

Mirandemilaki's lips press together in a tight line and she switches her communicator off.

It is only the next day, when they hear reports on what she has done, that the significance of the fact that she never claimed to respect the Council's decision becomes apparent.