Not every founding member of the reptilian species' project could be present for this landmark meeting. A hundred thousand Earth years was a long time even by Krizzt reckoning, and not every original member had consented to or could afford the methods of reincarnation. On top of that, there was no getting around the decay of personality data that would occur after such a long time, so some Krizzt scientists simply couldn't be around for the project's greatest evaluation yet. The losses were tragic, yet inevitable. The ones whose data couldn't be properly migrated had their final remains enshrined among those of the brightest minds, as all great Krizzt were.
Highest Councilman Lliz extended his tongue and gave his eyeball a quick lick-wipe before he tapped his microphone, the feedback acting as a cue for everyone to pay attention. "My fellow Krizzt," he rumbled, the trill-like voice reverberating off the walls of the chamber. "Today we convene to celebrate and analyze the hundred thousand years of progress Project Simulacrum has made. A hundred thousand Earth years ago, the Krizzt began their first Life Seeding project, setting the scene for uplifting un-advanced species so that someday, those species could join the Krizzt in space as their allies."
Murmurs went through the room, some a bit sharper than others. Not every Krizzt supported life seeding, afraid of what uplifted species could do once they achieved the power necessary to become a spacefaring race. Others considered it a waste of resources that could potentially be used to better the Krizzt empire. Still, those were a minority. Those who knew anything about intergalactic politics knew that the Krizzt could use any allies they could get.
"I think we understand the basics of what we started," Lliz said, shuffling his notes on his data tablet. "There were species capable of evolution on the planet Earth. We provided the materials and the stimulus to speed it along. After a certain point, as is common with these projects, we allowed the destiny of the evolved species to handle itself." More murmurs of acknowledgment rumbled throughout the room.
"Enough dodging the topic with summaries," some heckler called out. "Tell us what the humans are doing now."
Lliz shot a steely glare in the direction of where he thought the heckler was. "You act as if patience is not a virtue of our species. What other species could wait 100,000 of a different planet's years to confirm an evaluation? Not many. Certainly not our feathered flighty friends, the Pa'sken." Some awkward laughter now went through the space; the Pa'sken were often subject to good-natured ribbing. Though the two species got along well and were political allies, they were very different from each other.
"Still, I suppose that we've gone over this enough. Let's take a look at what the humans of Common Era 2018 are doing." Lliz tapped some commands into his data tablet, and the holographic greens behind him powered up. Various scenes of human life appeared: people going shopping in a mall, someone listening to their music on public transport, an office of people working at computers. "Humans of this era have already walked on moon, though it seems that they have become homebodies since then. Probes have been sent out, exoplanets are being named in their tongue, but it is uncertain if any greater missions have been taken from there."
"Human social culture has changed rapidly with the invention of its 'internet,'" Lliz continued. "While it connects many people, it isolates some and is exploited by others. Still, we know the pitfalls of the information age quite well ourselves. These are growing pains, and we can only hope they lead to unification in the future." He tapped the data tablet a few times and pulled up different scenes: those of modern war and tragedy. "War is as much of a problem as it ever was, though at least these humans aren't blowing up entire planets. Still, they have discovered nuclear war techniques, and that is, as always, a concern. Threats have been thrown around like casual banter, but it is impossible to tell if they will act on them. Being arbitrary is a byproduct of organic life, I suppose."
"Excuse me." A female Krizzt voice came from somewhere in the front.
"Yes, Dr. Erze?" Lliz responded to the cultural scientist who had spoken up.
"My research has lead me to be concerned that the humans may grievously hurt themselves or their planet. I know this is merely an informal proposal, but I ask that we consider revealing ourselves before it is too late," Dr. Erze said, her voice quaking with worry.
Lliz made an affirming noise, then changed the displays back to different casual scenes of life. "I understand that this is an important topic for you. However, I hope you understand that there are better channels to voice your concerns than at such a public meeting."
"Yes, but the paperwork-"
Unrest began to spread among those gathered, all sorts of murmurs. Lliz sighed. "You've got a data tablet. Start filing it now, and hope you just haven't instilled the fear of project failure into Krizzt across the galaxy."
The feed was briefly cut for a moment, brief enough for it to be considered a transmission error, but the news headlines the next day would say it all: the Krizzt were worried about the success of the human race
