Rome, March 1934

 

Having taken off her blue bonnet and placed it on the desk, Miss Gaja Havlik reached behind her neck and unzipped her head. The chrome skull glistened and smiled.

 

At this point, Enrico Fermi accepted she had been telling the truth.

 

Minutes earlier, he had been busy bombarding uranium with neutrons to induce radioactivity, little knowing he was one leap of thought away from discovering fission and handing Mussolini nuclear reactors and atom bombs; in effect winning the upcoming war for the Axis powers before it had even begun. Fortunately, he’d been interrupted by an assistant with news of a visitor.

 

“Not now,” said Fermi.

 

The assistant trembled. “Sir, she says she has an urgent message from Madam Curie.”

 

Fermi hesitated. Curie? The Nobel Prize winner was the most famous scientist of the day. He ordered the aide to show the woman to his office.

When he entered, he found the visitor sitting in front of his desk. She was slim and dressed in blue with the elegant minimalism of a French model.

 

“I’m afraid I lied about Curie,” she said.

 

Fermi nodded. He was happily married but not so happily married he would throw out an attractive woman. He sat down behind his desk. “You have my attention, Miss...?”

 

“Havlik,” she said. “Gaja Havlik. I shall get to the point, Mr Fermi. I am an alien.”

 

He thought it to be a practical joke, but once he had seen her metal skull, the only rational explanation was that she, whether biological or some kind of automaton, was from another world.

 

Miss Havlik rezipped her head. Although Fermi neither smoked nor drank, he felt this would be the perfect moment for a glass of brandy and a strong cigar. Instead, he leaned across his desk and said, “What is it that you want, Miss Havlik?”

 

“I have come to say you are too late.”

 

“Really?” Fermi glanced at his watch.

 

“Not you, personally. The human race.”

 

“I see. And what is it we are late for?”

 

Miss Havlik gestured at the ceiling. “The commonwealth of stars. There is a union of intelligences across the galaxy, a sharing of knowledge and culture of which you could only dream.”

 

“And we are not permitted to join this fascinating organisation?”

 

“It’s not a judgement of your species. Humanity simply arrived too late to be of interest.”

 

He leaned back in his chair. The office, decorated in the best Italian style by the renowned Gio Ponti himself, now seemed paltry. “You haven’t come here, Miss Havlik, simply to tell me we are excluded from your galactic empire.”

 

“Oh, it’s not an empire. Not at all. More of a collective. But you are quite correct, Mr Fermi.”

 

“Please… Call me Enrico.”

 

“The psychology of isolation is what necessitates my intervention, Enrico.”

 

“I don’t quite follow.”

 

“Any intelligent and self-aware being forced to be alone will suffer. The same is true of a society, were it to discover it had no peers in the universe. May I trouble you for a glass of water?”

 

Fermi called his assistant and had him fetch a pitcher and two glasses. After they had both taken a sip, Miss Havlik continued.

 

“When your descendants begin exploration of the universe and discover no trace of intelligent life, it will be a bitter shock. Little by little, your race will become more desperate until… well, there are many great filters that your race must pass through to survive. This is one of them”

 

“Let us be clear; you’re saying that Humanity will, as the Americans say, ‘blow its wig’?”

 

“Precisely. Though you have time. Our studies predict you won’t begin discovering extra-solar planets until the end of this century.”

 

“Surely, we’ll find evidence of alien races like yourself?”

 

“We operate on planes of existence beyond your comprehension and we have left nothing behind. Not a single stone in the firmament will indicate our existence.”

 

Fermi scratched his jaw. “You said I had time. For what?”

 

“Humanity still has a glorious future among the stars, should it not fall prey to depression. I challenge you, Enrico, to find a solution that will provide solace to Mankind.”

 

And with that, Miss Gaja Havlik disappeared.

 

Enrico pondered for a moment the control of matter and energy that would allow this miracle. Then he got up and paced the office. Such responsibility. Such a burden. Protecting the entire race from madness for generations. It was impossible. One person alone could never—

 

It came to him in a flash. One person alone could never achieve this, but Fermi was not alone. Not now nor in the future. Many great minds working together, yes, it would be possible.

 

First of all, there was no need to hide from the truth of Humanity’s isolation. Quite the opposite. Draw attention to it. How is it that in all the time the universe has existed no race has conquered the galaxy? We should see their footprints all around us.

 

Yes. People would wonder. They would dream. They would suspect. They would create thousands of reasons because that is what people do. They find meaning. Perhaps there was a race of beings out there hostile to all other intelligence? Perhaps all civilisations destroyed themselves before they got off-planet? Curiosity would keep us sane.

 

He returned to his seat and began sketching equations.

 

His assistant entered. “Sir, your team awaits you.”

 

“Tell them… tell them I am busy.”

 

And so, in March 1934, neither Il Duce nor his German ally got their hands on world-ending power, and Humanity simultaneously passed two of the many great filters that lay ahead.