49. With Great Power (Patreon)

I resist the urge to hum happily to myself as I step deftly around some noisy fallen branches, hands moving carefully forward to cup around an adorable beetle that caught my eye. He's a beautiful, herbivorous little fella, so I drop him into the container I'm carrying that already has the most friends in it. He'll get along well with the others.

Today is a mental health day, which means it's a 'lose myself in the woods for about six hours and catch every single cutie I find along the way' day. Normally, of course, this would be catch and release, but I had the genius super-cool girlfriend idea to store all the bugs I find and give them to Tara, whose favorite food is still-living or recently-dead, uncooked creatures… with extra-super bonus points given if she's never eaten one before! I guess it's some kind of hardwired positive feedback system in her alien bio-queen brain to encourage her to consume every new species possible, which… well, you know, that's a bit creepy and suspicious, but it's hardly an immediate problem. My girlfriend likes trying new foods! I like catching bugs! And there are literally MILLIONS of unique bug species! It's perfect!

So, with my new friend in the future-consumption jar, I do finally give into the urge to hum happily, glancing around for new subjects to feed to our adorable alien overlord. Er, well… maybe not 'overlord' overlord. Tara has been pretty distraught since she witnessed what was basically a lynching. Much like me, she hates violence in all its forms. Unlike me, her response to violence is generally anger rather than just shutting down. We both admitted that we didn't know what to do about the situation, so she promised to speak with as many qualified people as she can to try and figure things out. Though she also promised there wouldn't be any more modern-day witch hunts on her watch. We don't know how to deal with the disease, she says, but that's no reason to stop treating the symptoms. And she's right, but… I'm worried it's only a matter of time before she shows up on international news with that philosophy.

Either way, she's my girlfriend now (eeeeeeeeeeeee!) so that means it's my job to help cheer her up! So after a nice, big bug hunt to recharge my social batteries I should be perfectly poised to make her day. She's gonna be so—ooh, a butterfly! Into the butterfly bin with you, my pretty!

Giggling with delight, I continue to snatch up more bugs as I go, slowly but surely making my way to Tara's cave so I can see and hang out with her 'original' body for the day. I technically haven't told her I'm going that way, but I suspect she's probably figured it out by now. I've spotted her bodies camouflaged nearby a few times and I have no doubt she's picked up on my general trajectory. Sure enough, once I start getting close I spot a very strange-looking bird flying towards me. I stretch out my hand and Tara lands on it (since she's the bird, obviously) causing me to almost squeal with delight as I see the body design up close.

She made a tiny, winged human body! Clothed in small, soft feathers, her songbird-sized body is both warm-blooded and six-limbed—two arms, two legs, two wings—which is completely unlike anything on Earth! This is so cool!

"You like it?" Tara asks, lounging on my palm with her legs crossed. "I'm thinking of naming this body type the 'shoulder angel.' Evocative, no?"

"Very!" I agree, chuckling. "And it's very cool! You designed this yourself? Like, from scratch?"

"I did indeed!" Tara confirms, beaming. "I'd say something like 'you should see how complicated the musculature is' but I'm not actually interested in offering a self-vivisection. But yes, praise is both welcome and warranted, thank you. I'm surprised to see you all the way out here, but I'm certainly happy that it gives me an opportunity to show off! What does bring you here, though? I thought you needed an alone day."

"Eh, an alone half-day was good enough," I wave off, pulling out one of my bug containers. "Plus, I get to put all these captured cuties to good use! Say 'aah!'"

"Wait, you caught all these for me? Er, I mean, ahh—mmph!"

I fish out a rare species I suspect she may have missed the first couple times she sampled our local woods, and her eyes light up the moment it touches her tongue. A little bug that I have to carefully hold with two fingers is more or less a family-size lasagna for tiny Tara, but she takes it in both of her hands and starts rapidly peeling it apart bit by bit in her lap before stuffing her face. It's completely fucking adorable.

"Oh gods, where did you find this?" Tara sighs when she finishes. "That was delicious! Did you really get all these for me?"

"I sure did!" I declare triumphantly. "There's nobody better at finding rare bugs than me, Tara! I mean, other than a ton of professional entomologists, probably. But I'm not gonna lose to some upstart hivemind just because she can search across the entire world at the same time! Oh, speaking of, I bet you've already researched the obvious ones, but I went and compiled habitat information on every obscure bug that might have useful evolutions for you. Juvenile issus coleoptratus actually use organic gears to synchronize their leg movements when jumping, so I bet you could use that to…"

The walk, from there on, devolves into me babbling about bugs as I pull out a bunch of printed information sheets I prepared and stuffed into my backpack about stuff Tara might find interesting or useful in Earth's biology. Tara, being the absolute coolest, seems genuinely enraptured, nodding along and asking relevant questions as I gush about my favorite weird bugs. At some point during the conversation Tara flies onto my shoulder so she can kiss my cheek, which is about the only non-bug thing my mega-hyperfocused brain notices until I step through the treeline to find myself at Tara's cave.

On the outside, it doesn't look much different from the last time I saw it, which I suspect is entirely by design. It's still a suspiciously circular hole in the ground, Though Tara has grown a bunch of roots and vines over it to make that less obvious. I peek my head inside and am immediately excited to see her huge, six-limbed 'home planet' form, which I naturally rush forward to hug.

"Tara!" I laugh, letting her pick me up with her forelimbs so I can wrap my arms around her head. "Hey! How are things doing?"

"Same as they were doing the entire walk over, Evelyn," she jokes, carefully nuzzling my fragile flesh with her chitin. "You realize this is like having a whole conversation with someone, then suddenly asking their hand how they're doing?"

"I… yes! I get that!" I sputter, blushing. "It's automatic, okay? My brain doesn't know how to engage with a new entity without a 'how's your day' or 'what's up' falling out of my mouth!"

"Oh, of course, blame it on the organ that comprises the totality of who you are. That will absolve you of responsibility."

"Hey, don't call out my entire generation like that," I grumble, poking her in annoyance as she sets me down on her brilliant turquoise back. "The use of 'brain' in this context is like, a separation of conscious desires from unwanted instincts, particularly in reference to executive function disorders. The fact that we are nothing but the absurd acts of chemicals firing within our nervous system is irrelevant to the metaphor."

"Duly noted," Tara chuckles. "So again, what brings you all the way out here? You know I'll gladly eat your bugs anywhere in the world."

"Well, I was planning on spending most of the day in the woods anyway, so I thought it would be nice to hang out with you in the form that best represents you! Your comfy Tara-at-home body!"

"Aww, how sweet!" Tara coos, plodding down deeper into her cave. "Though I'd argue this hole in the ground isn't really my 'home' in any sense of the word. And also, while this is my favorite body, I think it's worth noting I'm not particularly uncomfortable with any of my bodies. You really don't have to come all the way out here for me!"

"Aww, but your original body is extra cute, though!" I tease her. "Come on, you know I'm extra-mega stoked to hang out with a giant alien arthropod."

"Is that so?" Tara hums. "Well, now I'm curious. Do you like this body or my human bodies more?"

"I… they're differently great!" I sputter.

"Okay, well, if the reason you haven't asked me to pleasure you yet is because you wanted me to do it in this body, I'll need some time to research and prepare. I don't want to accidentally injure you."

I feel my face turn red like an erupting volcano and instinctively bury it in my hands as I shriek protests at her.

"That's not what I meant that's not what I meant that's not what I meant!!! Aaaagh, Tara, don't just say things like that!"

"Why shouldn't I?" she grunts. "You're certainly not going to talk about it, so one of us has to take the initiative. Communication is the foundation of a good relationship, after all."

"Well I'm communicating that I don't want you to keep bringing up sex out of the blue!"

"Okay, okay," she laughs. "If you insist. I'll wait until you want to address the subject, and find out some other way to get you to make adorable faces."

I make a few incoherent noises of protest as Tara starts showing me around her incredibly expansive new cave, complete with guard-bodies, organic doors, multiple egg chambers, and massive stores of organic compost for consumption. It really nails the whole Zerg hive feel, so I get to squeal and nerd out quite a few times during the tour.

"This is so cool!" I tell her for the twentieth time. "You're so cool!"

"I'm glad you think so," she preens. "Though if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to change the subject to something more serious."

"Oh, I mean, sure," I acknowledge, nodding. "I kinda figured we were due for a serious chat. I've been thinking a lot about your current situation."

"Is that so?" Tara asks hopefully. "And what have you concluded?"

I try not to wince. I concluded that I still don't really have a right answer. Just a bunch of wrong ones.

"You first," I tell her.

"Well, I suppose that's what I wanted to ask you about," she says, sighing. "It's just… well, it's getting increasingly difficult for me to justify not starting a few coups."

Oh fuck.

"Uh… Tara, please don't do that," I beg her.

"See, I figured you'd say that," she sighs. "But my counter is 'why not?' Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you'd have to go to war!" I tell her. "The current governments aren't just going to hand you the keys to the empire, they're going to fight back. You'll have to kill a lot of people!"

"I'll fully acknowledge that's true," Tara agrees. "And it's definitely a major downside. But with sufficient preparation I should be able to cripple any military currently on the planet long before they discover what I am, let alone how to counter me."

"Tara that's obviously not something that's going to go cleanly, and even if it does—"

"I know!" Tara snaps. Then again, more quietly, she repeats: "I know. Evelyn, trust me. This is not something I want to do. The number of people that I might have to kill to accomplish something like this… it's literally incalculable. I have no way to reliably predict the long-term consequences of something that no one else has ever even had the potential to seriously consider. But tens of thousands of people die in wars every year as-is, and I can't stop wars without winning them! I need to control the governments perpetuating conflict in order to stop the conflict. There simply isn't a better way! And many of the countries embroiled in severe internal conflict or outright war are also countries that need immediate, serious structural overhaul to improve the quality of life for the people within them. And the best way to get those changes done is also to be in charge!"

"What's wrong with what you were already doing?" I protest. "You're already getting people food, clean water, clothing, medicine—"

"It's not enough," Tara insists. "Evelyn, I don't… I don't know how to explain the sheer quantity of suffering I see every day. Don't get me wrong, there's joy too, but in many ways it just makes all the pain hurt so much more. And I could… I could do what you're saying. I could focus everything on supplying the needy. And perhaps, over time, that would solve the systemic issues as well. Fewer wars would be fought, because there would be fewer need for them. People wouldn't have to fight over resources and they'd generally be more content. There would be more non-military jobs and better education and so on and so forth. But it would be slow. Gods, it would be so fucking slow. More people would suffer and die in the time it took me to fix things the 'good' way."

"That's a… very utilitarian approach to things," I say.

Tara sighs.

"Is it? I'm not sure I know or care what the exact moral philosophy I subscribe to is. I just need to help people, Evelyn. It's who I am. And if I could just give and give and give and solve every problem in the world that way, you know I'd do it. But the problem is that I see so many people suffering in ways that are caused not by need, but by greed. Selfishness, bigotry, narcissism, insanity… humans need to be protected from themselves."

"Your system won't fail gracefully," I tell her. "If it's just you trying to protect everyone with yourself, it all fails and falls apart if you do."

"You're absolutely right," Tara agrees, shaking her head. "And that's why it's so terrifying. It's a recipe for disaster, but… your world is already full of disasters. I have to at least try. And… well, the worst-case scenario is that these places end up with a dysfunctional government that is unable to solve their problems, so nothing really changes."

"That's not the worst-case scenario!" I insist. "And Tara, murder doesn't become a good thing just because you have good reasons for doing it."

"I agree," she answers me. "But Spider-Man is right."

"What?"

"Spider-Man. Or his uncle, I guess. I watched the 2002 movie."

"Tara, what are you talking about?"

"'With great power comes great responsibility,'" she quotes. "Right? I thought that was a pretty well-known cultural touchstone of yours. To the point that it probably sounds like a useless platitude to you, but… I found it quite profound. It's the assertion that if you can help, you are morally obligated to. That sitting back and doing nothing is absolutely, inarguably a choice, and the consequences of that choice fall at your feet in exactly the same way the consequences of action do. If you stand back and ignore the robber when you have every ability to stop him, and he kills someone, that's on you."

"Tara, you can't ascribe every single evil on the planet as a consequence of your personal inaction," I insist. "That's crazy."

"You can't," Tara disagrees. "Because for any evil you devote yourself to stopping, there are hundreds of others you're rendering yourself incapable of dealing with as a result. You don't have the power to fix the world, Evelyn, so you don't have the responsibility to. But I do."

"But… Tara, the way you plan to do it is wrong."

"The way I plan to do it might actually work. If I can pull it off, if I can withstand the pressure and make the right decisions with the right people helping me, I could… well, I'm not arrogant or foolish enough to use the word 'utopia,' but I could get us pretty damn close."

No, no no no. This is really, really bad!

"Tara, this is exactly the scary sci-fi villain bullshit I warned you about!"

"Oh, I'm aware," Tara sighs. "But if no one can give me a better plan, I'm doing it. And if things go well?"

She shrugs, exhausted and defeated.

"I'll take over the world."