Prophecy (6 page)

Once again the Shadow stood alone, the only lights in the Mobile Exploratory Research Station being those that glowed from the vid-screens. It was intent on what had previously been uploaded to panel array Duodua, linked to sub-orbiter Valariti.

The Shadow keyed in the encrypted data, accessing Duodua’s memory.

A numeral immediately glowed brightly against the blackened screen. Thunderstruck, adrenaline surged through the Shadow’s blood, its normally unemotional state becoming highly agitated.It began to pace the breadth of the Neural Matrix Information Processor’s chamber, head down, hands clasped behind its back. But it could not deny what was so glaringly obvious.

Stopping in front of Duodua, the Shadow glanced again at the numerals thereon:

The newest addition to the list should have made the Shadow ecstatic; however, it received this information with a doubtful (and fearful?) light smoldering in its eyes.

The human was most decidedly a rogue. No Anorasian in recorded history had ever attained such increasing power in so short a period of time. And without benefit of tutelage.

Netsor’ah, the ancient Prophecy, was ambiguous throughout, but one point seemed a recurrent theme: one unprecedented, unimaginable psychic would strive to tear the galaxy apart; another would seek to eliminate this destroyer of worlds. Regrettably, there were no further intimations to enlighten the Seekers; they knew not which one was, mayhap, this human female.

Another segment of Netsor’ah was just as convoluted: was there one so chosen by the Great and Glorious Shen’dalah to demystify the relationship between the races? Would it cause great healing and wonder ... or irreparable damage?

And would this be a
third
entity, or one of the other two so mentioned? The possibilities were too numerous, too confounding. Mayhap the one demolishing the star systems knew where insidious rot had formed and only sought to bring safety to those planets that remained pure. Mayhap the one who would hunt down the destroyer of worlds was, in fact, the evil doer!

With a shudder, the Shadow requested the vid-screen to disassemble. The numerals were forever etched into its brain. One detail and one only was a given: the Seekers would do naught to hinder this galvanizing force, this humanoid, as it ascended to a psychic level the Shadow knew exceeded the realm of the known.

There could now be no doubt: this entity was one of the unequivocal predictions from Netsor’ah. The Shadow closed its eyes, its head turning up, its arms raised in supplication.

May the Light of Shen’dalah guide my spirit down the correct path in the fulfillment of Netsor’ah. Praise be this entity is Your Man’asorai, Your Chosen, The One who will rectify great wrongs and safeguard your creations from The Abomination.

“Twelve thousand years in the past, we followed our planetary explorers and an android scout ship on a routine expedition. Our goal was to gather information on new star systems capable of sustaining life and producing food without the prohibitive cost of creating artificial environments.”

Ton Re’Sateron leaned against a large rock, his arms folded across his chest, enjoying the breeze against his back that came off the lake. By mutual consent, the Anorasians agreed that they possessed enough substantive information to present what had been withheld from the Three these past centuries. They were now gathered in the Temperate Zone, their favorite of the five ecological chambers.

The other four zones plus their personal quarters surrounded the Temperate Zone, the laboratory’s core. Vectored Energy Fields (the VEFs erected between each zone) allowed the Environmental Control System to maintain unique climates for each eco-chamber. This one, in particular, rotated through the four seasons similar to Earth’s. The climate encouraged vegetation from other planets to mutate while coexisting with hybrids developed in the Fabrication Room.

Next to their personal quarters was the Humid Zone. Its temperature ranged from eighty-five to ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit, never dropping below eighty-seven percent humidity, while its dense vegetation shielded the surface from the direct rays of the hazy sun.

Diagonally across was the Arid Zone with brutally hot days—one hundred ten to one hundred thirty degrees Fahrenheit—and bone chilling nights, plus to minus twenty degrees Fahrenheit. Its dusty siroccos blew incessantly across the stark white sand.

Adjacent to the Arid Zone was the Frigid Zone, its sun too weak to warm the freezing air that rose off the mountains of ice. Its temperature swung from minus ten to minus eighty degrees Fahrenheit, depending on the severity of the artic-like winds.

The last eco-chamber was typical Hakilam; gently rolling hills covered in gold and red flora that surrounded a fertile valley sowed with a conglomeration of ornamental and food-producing plants.

Behind each VEF was a holographic mural of sky with the appropriate clouds and sun and stars for the zone. It gave the impression that the “land” was infinite. The energy field was a soft wall, allowing animals to come within twenty feet before meeting a pliant resistance that turned them gently away. The lake was in the Temperate Zone, but shared its waters with the Humid and Hakilam Zones. The VEFs between the Humid and Hakilam Zones extended into the lake, thus keeping separate a variety of life forms peculiar to each Zone.

Humans and Anorasians could psychically step through a VEF and pass from one chamber to another; but only the Anorasians, with their exceptional visual acuity, could see through the VEF into the adjacent zone.

Each ecology chamber had its own underground Environmental Control System joined by tunnels in which were android maintenance closets. The control systems received energy from the Power Antimatter Core—a two-level, cylindrically shaped tower outside the hanger that kept the entire underground laboratory supplied with the energy needed to sustain life.

The NMIP was the intelligent core that linked functions such as power, environmentals, communications, long and short range sensors, hyperspatial drive, navigation, and weapons. It communicated as a living entity with audile, verbal, and visual recognition.

“After centuries of travel in the MERS, we arrived at a hyperspatial exit point beyond a mass previously charted as a star system. Thus did we come to Sol. Several of its planets held promise. The one most conducive to immediate habitation was your birth planet which we named Er’ath, which means ‘green valley’, now known as Earth. As I prepared to transmit our intent for further investigation back to Hakilam via hyperspace relays, my colleague advised against, intuitively requesting a delay until more information could be gathered.”

Siddhartha sat on the grass before Sateron, his legs in that uncompromising position the Anorasian had never been able to master. Sateron had tried to place his left foot on his right thigh, his right foot on his left thigh—and had promptly rolled onto his back, his legs locked in that position, looking like a beetle lying on its shell! Laughing as heartily as the others, he waited while Aleris untangled him with a stern warning never to attempt that while alone for fear he might die of starvation.

Emmanuel sat with his back against another rock, the breeze that tickled his beard bringing with it nostalgic smells and sounds. Aleris shared his rock, the two enjoying the warmth of the sun on their skin. No one wore a self-regulating garment: this was considered their backyard where they could pretend they were above ground.

Sateron grinned, watching al-Amin try to find a comfortable spot. In less than five minutes, the human had gone from lying on his side, his head propped on his fist; to kneeling, heels against his spine, palms flat against his thighs; to lying flat on his stomach, his chin resting on both closed fists. This one was so like himself: restless, physical, competitive, needing movement just as others needed stillness.

Returning to his subject, he said, “We collected samples and were mystified. Eighty percent of the accumulated specimens had an above average DNA match to similar species on Hakilam. Further, the DNA of the sentient life forms matched Anorasian DNA code by nearly
ninety-eight percent
.”

The humans watched Sateron intently. He remained stationary, curious for one who usually paced while talking. Even al-Amin stopped fidgeting. The information just received astonished them no less than it had the Anorasians twelve thousand years previously.

“Even with these puzzlements, we were treated to one having equally more disturbing consequence,” he said. “We began an intensive scan of the planet, finding something compelling in the equatorial region. How terrified were the humans when we teleported into their territory! We attempted communication, but they disappeared into the trees, presumably due to our physical appearance so unlike their own. They watched, but would not approach.

“Unerringly, Aleris made directly toward that which had acted as magnet. I thought it only moss clinging to a tree; nevertheless, as we neared the moss,
it shivered and drew back
! It curled in an arc then moved slightly forward as if finally deciding we would do it no harm. My colleague gently removed several to bring back to the MERS and began the wearisome search through our extensive data to see if this plant had been acknowledged prior. It was found in obscure documentation, only a brief description. It was named Eocene dicit’ledoni, seemingly to have been on Earth sixty-five million years in our past.

“’Tis an entity that is currently manufactured in laboratories throughout the Empire.” Sateron sighed in remembrance.

“Further disclosure revealed that, while having no specific intelligence or communication skills, it did possess some psychic recognition. It acknowledged us when first we came upon it, but not you three until you had sufficient amount of dicit in your system.” His eyes, alight with suppressed excitement, the Anorasian began to pace, unable to remain still.

“We named this life form from Earth dicit
-
E. We found it to be ninety-seven percent alike to the biologically engineered dicit on Hakilam. So we differentiated it from the Hakilam complexity which we now name dicit
-
H. Had we stumbled upon the prime whence ours was fashioned?” Sateron paused as though to gather his thoughts.

“We were perplexed. With our technology, there would be no need to engineer a compound if a living form existed for we could have set up entire colonies—planets, even—to grow amounts sufficient for our needs. Further experimentation proved that, though there remained less than three percent difference between dicit
-
E and dicit
-
H, the percentage held unaccountable dissimilarities. Thus, our first conclusion: dicit
-
H was
not
the biologically engineered adaptation of dicit
-
E
.
” His narration slowed so the Three could digest the information just presented.

“The question then: if dicit
-
E from Earth was not the prime of dicit
-
H from Hakilam, whence the prime for both? And, most importantly, why no extensive data?”

Sateron stopped and looked to Aleris, not wishing to continue if his colleague felt a need to expound. Receiving a nod to continue, he drew in a deep breath and turned back to the humans, his expressive face a study in frustration and anger.

“As you are aware, the Min’yel’os control all fabrication ofdicit
-
Hwhich is designed to regenerate cells and extend Anorasian life. But in extending life, little evolution occurs. Why would the governing body of the Empire wish to hinder the growth and adaptation of its most highly evolved species?”

The humans had previously learned that ten members of the Synadracus, the official governing body of Hakilam, had their essence infused into a controlled intelligence environment, the objective being immortality. Idealistically, this assemblage reasoned that, if free from the constraints of a corporeal body and from emotional entanglements associated with a finite existence, a ruling body could govern more logically and dispassionately.

“Dicit
-
H has a measurable span, as you have learned. Each time it is teleported into our vital fluid, the effect is less than the previous. And the teleportation is mandatory, first introduced into every Anorasian’s system at the age of three hundred years, some one to two hundred years prior to a natural demise.

“The first introduction extends life approximately fifteen hundred years; the next teleportation, possibly thirteen hundred. And so on. Eventually the cells will no longer regenerate at approximately three thousand years old ... and death occurs.” Sateron seethed through nearly clenched teeth. “To the Min’yel’os, dicit
-
H alone was not deemed sufficient to slow evolution. Geneticists were tasked with creating an ultimate population controller. And thus was evolved a seminal hormone disrupter administered to every male each time it receives dicit
-
H. The disrupter has a twelve-hour delay: it allows the dicit to regenerate cells prior to the hormone’s destruction of sperm. If They need another Anorasian born, a male Anorasian is not given the hormone disrupter and an appropriate female is provided.”

His jaw rigid, he grated, “If an Anorasian has value to the Min’yel’os once its cells can no longer be rejuvenated, his or her essence is transmigrated into a clone. Aleris and I have been cloned twice. However ... if They so determine ... that an Anorasian is of no further use to them ...” Sateron drew in a shaky breath, pain etching his features, his voice tight and low ...“dicit
-
H is withheld and the Anorasian dies slowly, painfully. No better way to control a populace than by holding out everlasting life as a reward or threatening it with an agonizing, undignified termination.” With eyes unfocused, Sateron stared over their heads as he vainly attempted a professorial monotone.

“Thus our descendants have not differed from our ancestors morphologically or physiologically with the passage of eons.”

Sateron’s torment was evident in the sudden slouch of his shoulders as he sat heavily back on the rock. The humans grieved in commiseration. Aleris picked up the thread, allowing Sateron time to hold himself apart in his distress.

“Immortality is an abomination. With no end to life, the Min’yel’os have lost touch with sentiency and have become remote from the variant species in their Empire. Also did they lose the joy of living and the creativity that accompanies a measured existence. Their rule is as master to slave: those they govern are objects in the fruitless expansion of their bloated Empire. There are data records in the archives that allude to uprisings against them, but with forces loyal—more likely terrified of termination—they seem invincible.”

Aleris was irate, an emotion rarely seen in the geneticist. Sateron remained mute, his eyes hooded, the suffering of his species a raw wound in his heart.

“There were those who claimed they knew of distorted data in the genetic archives of Hakilam,” Aleris continued. “Intrigued, we investigated cautiously and encountered extensive manipulation of documentation and missing data. Others clandestinely joined our cause. We debated ways to halt the oppression of the Min’yel’os, to destroy their rule and to return our species’ ability to procreate. There was no conclusive evidence of this skewed information ... until we discovered the moss-like entity growing now in the Humid Zone.”

Sateron’s eyes lost their misery as he focused once more on the gathering before him. Exploding off the rock he seemed to swell, pride and optimism natural attributes of this alien who had dedicated his life to ending the miasma that enveloped his species. At nearly seven feet in height and two hundred and seventy pounds, he was of the
Ton
, the category given to those who served the government directly, the most highly regarded in the Empire; and
Re
, the sub-classification of scientist, the most prized by the Min’yel’os. Most assuredly he had terrified the diminutive natives of Earth, his mahogany-colored skin almost purple in the light, nearly black in the dark. And when they looked into his eyes and beheld the black elongated irises and pupils surrounded by lemon-tinted eyeballs, they believed they were in the presence of great evil.

Aleris nodded and Sateron took up the telling. “The realization that Eocene dicit’ledoni grew naturally was what began our quest.” His voice had returned to its previous dynamism. “There were no records in any archives of dicit in any form, except for the engineered complexity on Hakilam. We concluded that the Min’yel’os must have had all natural forms of dicit destroyed once it could be fabricated. finding dicit-E on Earth further corroborated our suspicions about their subterfuge. We instinctively knew the key to our emancipation from this racial atrocity would be tied to Earth—and dicit-E. We queried: Why did they fear us? Who were we to cause such apprehension?” His eyes alight with the fire of righteousness, Sateron’s body quivering with suppressed excitement, his restlessness contagious.

“We needed a laboratory in which to conduct our experiments, some place shielded from psychic probe and accidental discovery. In searching archaic galaxy charts for suitable locations, we found the star system Zubeln and then used androids designed for primary planetary exploration to calculate orbital changes in the star system over a specified span of time.

“Understandably, Zubeln’s three planets appeared to have never been colonized, each one nothing more than wastelands of blowing sand and electrical storms. This one, Izorach, proved a perfect location. It had several hundred canyons that created fantastical winds, electrically charged debris that swirled hundreds of feet in the air and a high concentration of static in the particulate. All combined threw a psychic ‘blanket,’ a blockage of ability, over the planet.

“This be a condition intolerable to Anorasians. We fear disruption in psychic connections as much as humans fear loss of vision.

“It took nearly two thousand years to complete construction of this laboratory, for we did not wish to arouse suspicions by requisitioning large amounts of construction androids and material. Standing one half mile in height with a radius of one mile and a circumference of three, it is a testimony to patience and persistence.”