Deep Penetration; Alien Breeders I (5 page)

Koryn sobered. “This couldn’t have
happened more than a hundred years ago … if that much.”

“
If you managed to narrow
the time line, we
have
made progress. Any idea of the race?”

Koryn shook his head. “I won’t be able
to determine that without tests. There wasn’t enough. Any word from
the others?”

“
Nothing and more
nothing.” Tariq frowned, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight as
he surveyed the dig. “Humans—and their forbearers—survived several
extinctions that we know of. Considering the condition of the
planet, it seems damned unlikely this was the results of any kind
of natural disaster.”

“
We don’t know, for
certain, that there aren’t any survivors,” Koryn pointed out. “The
search parties have barely scratched the surface.”

Tariq grunted noncommittally. “This
area seems fertile enough to support them. There’s plenty of
everything else.”

“
We don’t know what it was
like then, however.”

“
True.” He turned to study
Emerald. “Maybe she’ll remember something.”

Koryn turned his head to study her, as
well. “Maybe.”

* * * *

Strain though she might, Emerald was
only able to catch a few snatches of the conversation between Koryn
and Tariq. It was enough to fire her curiosity, but not enough to
appease it, particularly when they switched to their own language
shortly after they’d begun talking.

The only thing that she had managed to
grasp—she thought—was that they were arguing about her. Koryn was
angry that Tariq had brought her and Tariq was both defensive about
his actions and angry because he felt defensive and resented Koryn
questioning his decision.

It seemed to indicate that
she was of some importance to them, but that was as unnerving as it
was comforting. If she could’ve counted on her importance as
protection, she wouldn’t have felt uneasy at all, but she wasn’t
convinced that she could when she didn’t understand
how
she was important to
them.

After a few minutes, Tariq left Koryn,
following the path Koryn had traced to reach him, and Koryn
approached her. She looked up at him questioningly when he settled
on the wall beside her and looked her over piercingly. “We’ll have
to get some clothes made for you that fit better,” he commented
after a long moment.

It was the last thing Emerald had
expected and she looked down at herself self-consciously. “I
thought I was naked because I was being treated. I didn’t have
clothes when you found me?”

Koryn cleared his throat
uncomfortably. “No.”

Emerald frowned. “Why would I be
naked?” she wondered out loud.

“
Nothing comes to mind?”
Koryn prompted. “You haven’t remembered anything?”

He knew something he wasn’t telling
her. Emerald was certain of it. “Not really, no,” she responded
after a moment, turning to study the work in progress. “This can’t
be Earth.”

“
Why do you say
that?”

Emerald glanced at him in disbelief.
“This … place shouldn’t be here!”

“
So you do remember
something?”

Emerald looked down at her hands,
trying to figure out how to explain something she didn’t understand
herself. “It isn’t really memories. It’s … the feeling that this is
wrong, out of place. It’s like writing something and then looking
at the word you’ve written and knowing it isn’t right, that you’ve
spelled it wrong, even though you don’t know how it should be
spelled or even how you know that the pattern doesn’t look
right.”

Koryn nodded. “And yet things like
this don’t remain the same. Time changes them. The man-made
structures deteriorate with age and vegetation begins to grow over
everything when there’s no one to cut it back.”

Emerald nodded and turned to look at
the city again. “What happened here?”

“
We don’t know. That’s
what we’re trying to discover.”

Emerald wrestled with her thoughts. In
a way, she was afraid to ask the questions burning to be asked,
afraid of the answers, and yet the need to know warred with that
fear and doubt nibbled at her certainties. “Tariq also suggested
that a lot of time had passed since I saw Earth and that was why
this doesn’t look familiar. Have I …? Was I in stasis for some
reason?”

A frown of reluctance drew Koryn’s
brows together. “Not that we’ve determined.”

“
But you’re saying this is
Earth and a lot of time passed and that’s why it doesn’t look
familiar? Was I in a coma?” She lifted her head to study the ruins
again, trying to decide how much time it would take to change a
thriving city into a crumbling ruin that looked like some ancient
relic of the distant past. They hadn’t built like the ancients,
though. Ancient cities had survived because the people who built
them had meant for them to last. In her time, no one had wanted or
expected anything to last long. They’d wanted to recycle and
rebuild because it provided work and promoted a healthy
economy.

Koryn startled her out of her thoughts
by taking her hand. She glanced searchingly at his face and then
down at her hand in his. Her belly fluttered. The contrast was far
more startling than she’d realized. It wasn’t that his hand looked
alien next to her own. It looked just as human as hers did—except
that it engulfed her hand.

He seemed as fascinated with her hand
as she was with his, studying it intently as he explored the width
and length of her palm and each digit. “What feels like the truth
to you, child?”

Emerald sent him a startled look,
distracted by the fact that he’d called her ‘child’ just as Tariq
had. In a way, it almost sounded like affection the way they’d used
it, and yet it carried some unnerving connotations. “Why would you
call me a child?”

He sent her a startled look, seemed to
debate a moment, and finally gave her a penetrating look. “Because
you are in every sense of the word beyond the fact that you have
the body of a fully matured adult. You are an infant.”

Emerald searched his face for some
clue of his age. Beyond the fact that he appeared to be a fully
mature adult male, however, she discovered no foundation to base a
guess of his actual age. “You’re … older than me?”

He grinned abruptly, making her belly
shimmy in that strange way that was both unnerving and exciting.
“Vastly, child … in every sense of the word.”

Emerald looked away, mulling over
everything they’d said, had hinted at without actually telling her
anything specific. A horrific thought emerged, grew to be a
certainty despite every effort to discount it. “I was dead,” she
said finally, turning to search Koryn’s face again. “You pulled me
out of this pit. That’s what Tariq meant.”

He didn’t have to answer.
She saw the truth in his eyes. Despite the fact that she’d put the
idea together herself from the things they’d hinted at, though,
acceptance didn’t come. She felt the ‘sense’ that it was the truth
and still couldn’t make herself believe. “That’s why I don’t
remember anything. There
aren’t
any memories. I’m not … real. I’m a
clone.”

Koryn’s hand tightened on
hers when she would’ve snatched it away. His expression was hard
when she glanced at him angrily and she felt her own anger fade in
the face of his. “You are as real as I am—as any
natural
born thing in
this universe! The method of your birth and development didn’t
change who and what you are. I merely took the seeds of life and
planted them in fertile soil to grow—accelerated, of course—we
needed mature adults, but the memories
are
yours—and they
will
return to you.
They’re just as much a part of your DNA as the color of your eyes
and hair!”

He looked away. “That’s a
part of the mystery here. You should remember. You should
all
remember and no one
does.”

Emerald’s heart leapt jerkily. “There
are others?” she gasped, setting aside his other strange comment
for the moment.

He shrugged. “You are the first woman.
I regenerated two males before you. They also had no memories to
speak of—only the most basic, just as you have—and their instincts,
of course.”

“
But … they’re alive? And
they’re … humans from my time?”

He studied her face. “As far as we can
determine—yes.”

“
But … they might remember
me! If I’m familiar to them, I might trigger memories or they might
trigger mine!”

His gaze slid away. “Not
likely.”

“
Why? You said I should
have my memories! I don’t understand. I thought all memory was
stored in the brain, but if that’s true then maybe I only need to
see someone familiar to begin to remember.”

His lips tightened. “It’s entirely
possible that in your time scientists didn’t know how to turn on
that part of the DNA strand or even that it existed or what it was,
but much if not all of the memory is ‘backed up’ in the DNA, very
like a secondary recording device. This isn’t ordinary memory loss,
Emerald. If it was, then familiar things might trigger the return,
but we found you here and you’ve remembered nothing.”

“
That’s not true! It looks
familiar! It’s just … changed beyond true recognition. If I knew
the men, though ….”

“
I had to implant false
memories in their minds,” he confessed explosively. “The … void was
too disturbing for them. They began exhibiting signs of onset
psychosis. It was either that or keep them sedated and possibly do
more damage. The chances are slim, now, that they’ll recall
anything about their past lives.”

Emerald stared at him in dismay. “You
… put false memories in their minds?” she gasped, horrified. “But …
you changed who they were!”

“
There was no other
option! If I hadn’t, they would’ve been completely useless to
us!”

Emerald felt her jaw go slack. Fear
chased the shock in rapid succession. “Useless? What use to you
have for us?” she asked faintly.

He sent her a look she found hard to
decipher and looked away. An expression of relief flickered over
his features. Following the direction of his gaze, Emerald saw that
Tariq was striding briskly toward them. Koryn stood up abruptly. “I
have to get back.”

Tariq’s gaze flickered over her face
and then he glanced at Koryn’s retreating back. When he met
Emerald’s gaze again, there was wariness and speculation in his
eyes.

“
He suggested we might be
useless to the Anunnaki,” Emerald said, her voice quavering with
unnamed fears. “What did he mean?”

Tariq rolled his eyes. “Imbecile,” he
muttered.

Emerald jolted to her feet. “What did
he mean?”

His lips tightened, but after a moment
he seemed to force the anger back. “We mean you no harm, child.
Surely you have had time to understand that much?”

Emerald swallowed a little
convulsively, feeling her alarm waver. How much could she believe
of what she’d been told, though? “What did he mean, then? And why
do both of you call me a child when I’m not?”

Tariq smiled faintly, lifting his
hands and settling one on each of her shoulders. “You find that
insulting? It isn’t meant to be, I assure you. It’s a term of
endearment.”

Warmth fluttered through her, but
doubt, too. Why would they feel any affection for her? Because she
was their prize experiment?

“
You are human—a child of
the Anunnaki.”

Emerald blinked at him. “A child …?
You’re saying we’re the same?”

Tariq glanced around and then led her
to a place to settle that was out of the direct sunlight. “I
promised to explain what I could,” he said when they’d settled. “My
people found this world long ago. The humanoids that inhabited it
then were barely more than animals. In the beginning, they were
merely considered handy for experiments.” He shrugged at her
expression. “I promised the truth. I can paint a prettier picture
if you like. I’m not particularly proud of my ancestors in that
sense, but then again, I wasn’t their keeper. I had nothing to do
with what they did.”

“
I’d rather have the
truth,” Emerald said stiffly.

He nodded. “We were just exploring
genetics then. They were close enough to our own species to make
them ideal for the experiments—and simple enough to make them
malleable. We re-engineered them in our own image, altered their
DNA until it matched our own—more or less. This wasn’t a swift
process. It took generations of humans to perfect the strain.” He
paused again, seemed to wrestle with something, and finally
shrugged. “Part of the reason was that, in the beginning, it didn’t
occur to them to try. They were far more interested in seeing what
the limitations were and beginning to understand genetics better.
There were … other medical experiments, as well. Transplantations,
hybridizations of two or more species. This world was little more
than an enormous lab to build our own understanding of the
sciences.

“
Eventually, however, we
managed to produce a pure species identical to our own from the
native population and, once we had, we realized the true value of
them. They were our insurance of the continuance of our own
species. They—you—became our baseline when we began to manipulate
our own DNA in our quest for perfection. For many years, we were
guardians of this world and then, as our children ‘grew up’ we came
less and less often, checking from time to time to make certain we
still had our insurance in case of need, testing to make certain
the strain was still pure enough to use as a baseline, but leaving
the Earth primarily in the hands of our children.