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ready many people are to abuse power, justice and fairness seemed like a tall order. “And if we fail to achieve justice and equality?” I asked. “What then?”
    â€œThen nothing,” said the giraffe man. “We shall leave you alone and come check back in a few decades to see if you’ve worked out your problems. There’s no downside to participating. You can only benefit.”
    â€œThis end to disease you mentioned,” I said. “Is that for real?”
    â€œOh, yes,” Dr. Roop said. “We can’t eliminate all minor ailments and discomforts, but chronic and deadly disease will be a thing of the past.”
    I couldn’t help but think about that particular benefit. My mother would be cured. No more ALS. She would not have to turn into a living corpse. I realized that beyond how much Iloved all of this for its own sake, I had a very personal interest in the Confederation of United Planets being impressed with the people of the Earth.
    â€œWhy young people?” I asked. “And more importantly, why me? How, of all the kids on Earth, did you come up with my name?”
    Dr. Roop widened his eyes, which I began to suspect might be his species’ version of a smile or a nod. “Adolescents are particularly well suited for evaluation because they are old enough and sufficiently educated to represent your world and its cultures, but not so fully developed as to be resistant to new ways and new technologies. Over time we have found that using beings your age—or the species-relevant equivalent—for this evaluation gives us the best and most accurate sense of compatibility.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “I guess I can see that. But why me ?”
    â€œMaybe,” Ms. Price suggested, “we should tell you a little bit more about the other young people the Confederation has selected.” She picked up a remote device, and a screen came down on the far side of the room and the lights dimmed. She then flicked a few keys on her keyboard, and the image of a kid about my age appeared on the screen. He was dark-skinned and thin with narrow, focused eyes like he was concentrating on something. He wore a white dress shirt with a sweater over it that had some kind of symbol on the right breast, which I figured was a private-school insignia.
    â€œThis is Charles D’Ujanga,” Ms. Price said. “He’s twelve, from Uganda, and remarkably gifted in both math and science. He was born in a horribly poor village, and orphaned quite young, but by incredible luck his gifts were discovered early bya UN doctor. Consequently, he’s been the beneficiary of some excellent NGO aid that’s allowed him to go to the best schools in his country. Given the political problems in Uganda, this is no small thing.”
    She hit a few keys on the keyboard and the picture of an Asian girl flashed onto the screen. She wore a martial-arts uniform and had her legs firmly planted, and her arms up, as if ready to block a punch. It was clearly an action photo, and the girl’s short hair was pointed upward, as though she’d just landed after jumping. “This is Park Mi Sun. Despite her youth, she is the reigning female tae kwon do champion in South Korea.”
    â€œWe are not a belligerent society,” Dr. Roop explained, “but we respect the grace and discipline to be found in martial arts from many species and their cultures. Also, we are fond of Jackie Chan films.”
    I nodded appreciatively. “I just saw Supercop .”
    â€œThat’s a good one,” Dr. Roop agreed.
    Ms. Price sighed and clicked, and the image of another girl came onto the screen. This one had bronze skin, long black hair, and an oval face with sharp cheekbones, large eyes, and a dazzling smile. Her clothes suggested she was from India or Pakistan or someplace in that part of the world.
    â€œAnd, finally, this is Nayana Gehlawat from Jalandhar, India. You