The Thrice Born Read online

  Time was essential, especially now, with Zahve’s recent findings. They would need a workforce of basic intelligence. Behind the Commander the other officers waited, hovering just below her height.

  Maya put the mining issue aside for the moment as she hovered above the colonists gathered just enough to be seen. She knew their delicate outlook was important to their immediate survival in the caustic environment of a world under the Law of Accident. She also knew her choice of elevation was crucial; they needed to see her as one of them, vulnerable, yet still able to lead effectively.

  She raised one hand, summoning the colonists’ attention. “Lord Zahve has done a deeper analysis,” she told them. “There may be only two or three years left before the irreversible deterioration of our life forms begins. The need for Vidral is absolute.”

  A murmur of alarm went through the colonists, all still looking to her, awaiting direction. And hope.

  Maya saluted them respectfully; the colonists returned a bow. She turned to the officers, who each made a salute and flew off to the Ascender hovering nearby.

  Maya waited until they were gone, and then turned back to the colonists, and then flew off to her tent deeper into the island.

  The semi-circle of tents was for both officers and the colonists, and opened to a large grassland to one side. There the grass and soil was scorched and short from the ship’s landings. Maya knew some of the colonists would gather in a few of the tents to discuss the recent announcement; there’d be some concern, some doubt, but in all, there would be cohesion in any order she gave.

  She went into her tent, an adequate structure of canvas-type material and bamboo supports. It was divided, with the first room for work and meeting with her officers and her personal living quarters at the rear. She settled at one of the loo tables where a viewing screen showed the island’s most recent volcanic activity.

  Their mining activity would be slow, the island surrendering little promise so far for their much-needed golden Vidral. She adjusted the screen, searching for the heaviest deposits. Under the volcanic mountains was the best choice, of course, but the unstable atmosphere of the island with its heavy rainfall, bouts of volcanic activity, and seismic rumbles made for difficult true readings. The best readings came from Zahve’s laboratory on the other side of the arc of tents. It was the most permanent of buildings they’d erected, with solid walls of native bamboo and slabs of limestone. It had been strenuous work, laden with potential injuries, but worth it. It was their best hope for a future.

  From outside a sudden whirring and drone sound grew, stirring the air and making the canvas tent walls tremble. Maya stood and moved aside the tent door flap to see the ship touching down at its designated grass pad. Colonists peeked out of their tents.

  From the Ascender came Samyaza, Zahve, and another crewmember, whom Maya recognized as Turella. They approached her tent, saluting.

  Maya nodded, and went back inside.

  Samyaza followed, along with Zahve and Turella.

  “You have news?” Maya asked, stopping in the center of the first room when she saw the dirty bag Samyaza carried.

  He nodded, stepping to another larger work table nearby, still as low as the loo table where Maya had been studying the screen. He poured the bag’s contents onto the table. A mound of muddy, egg-sized lumps fell out. Through the mud glinted gold.

  Maya looked to Zahve and then Samyaza.

  Turella made a slight bow to Maya. “We found Vidral deposits about thirty shandars away, on the Mainland.”

  Maya nodded, attention returning to the mound of dirty clumps. “Very good.”

  * * *

  The Sea Pilgrim rode the early morning waves of the Caribbean, easily maneuvering among the shoals of the outlying Bahamas, farther out than any of the fishing boats. It was a research vessel, equipped with the usual navigating and testing devices, and a few more that came with the unorthodox nature of the sponsor’s interests. The Captain stood at the mainsail boom, looking out at the late fog burning off closer to the largest island.

  His mind turned along the purpose of the trip, and to his sole passenger. He chuckled. Noted author or not, Professor Bill Norwood was an eccentric among eccentrics, and the Captain had seen his fair share of that clientele. In the waters most known for sinking ships and pulling down or ‘disappearing’ planes, he’d headed enough private trips to know odd when he saw it.

  An Indian youth in his early teens ran up to him, skidding to a stop on the wave-wet deck boards. “Cap’n?”

  The Captain nodded to the largest guest cabin where the professor was still sleeping fitfully. “What’s he sayin’? He’s loud enough to drown a chainsaw.”

  The cabin boy glanced back to where the cabins were housed at the rear of the boat. “Uh, can’t tell.”

  The Captain knew that could mean several things. “Good God, boy. He snores, he shouts, talks to no one?” An amused lilt came to his voice. “Does the Professor have a lady in there?”

  The Indian gave a sly smile, but shook his head. “He’s like that every morning. No lady, Cap’n. He talks in his sleep.” A different look came to his face, one of unfound fear. “Scream is more like it sometimes. Like demons is after him.”

  * * *

  Professor Norwood’s dreams would have given anyone nightmares, had he shared them, or could recall them with the clarity he wished he could. His unconscious mind summoned the island as it had once been, the island under the command of the colonists, and under the supervision of forces beyond even the professor’s imagination.

  The colonist set to work planting crops and altering the island to fit their needs. They set up coiled devices along the crop fields to enhance the yield. Under the pulsating energy fields emitted from the coils, the engineered crops burst with robust harvests, able now to glean every drop of nutrients from the fertile island soil rich from years of volcanic residue.

  The crops responded well, the yields heavy and full, and the colonists adjusted and prospered in their new environment. But, as time passed, the colonists were also aware of the tenuous state of their livelihood in the strange, colorful and fragrant world they now found themselves.

  Successful crops and mining efforts left time for leisure, and pleasure, and it didn’t take long for some of them to find other ways to amuse themselves on the sandy beaches and deep tropical jungles.

  One of Zahve’s favorite pastimes was overseeing, as he called it, the life and death games the younger colonists liked to engage in. He sat now on a large boulder at one of the beaches in the warm afternoon, watching and directing two men dueling with sword blasters.

  He watched as Saniel and another young male colonist traded blows and slashes, evenly matched, driving each other back along the white sand. Each was shirtless under the hot sun, both with the emblem of a plumed, winged serpent ingrained in their chests.

  “Raise that saber, Saniel!” Zahve called out as the darker haired man was beaten back by the other man. “Block his blaster or he’ll put an end to you!”

  Beside the scientist sat Danel also on the rock. He was a younger colonist, under Zahve’s tutelage, and had an eager mind. He was also in awe of anyone who could master swordplay, as he was more inclined to intellectual prowess than athleticism.

  “Isn’t it strange how we immortals love to feign these games of death?” said Danel, his tone holding a bit of envy at the duelers’ agility and skill.

  Zahve recognized the twinge of jealousy in Danel’s tone, but ignored it and emphasized the more meaningful matter. “The Angelos are still Masters of Life and Death,” he reminded. “Sometimes, we immortals must kill. Immortality is a gift, not a right, Danel. No matter how we evolve, we’ll always play with death,” he said solemnly. He looked to the sky where the Ascender was hovering. As much as he preferred to run tests and scans closer to the surface, his laboratory on the ship surpassed the land-bound one at the campsite. Until he had a fully functioning lab at their land complex, he still conducted more sensitiv
e scans from above. He turned to Danel as he stood up. “I’ve a meeting with Commander Maya soon. My scans should be ready to read; hopefully, with good news for us.”

  Danel nodded, sending the spacecraft an optimistic glance. “Yes, Lord Zahve.”

  It was shortly thereafter, and with good news, that Zahve and Samyaza left the Ascender to meet with Maya later that afternoon. She stood on the beach, watching them fly down from above, her hopes rising as she tried to gauge their expressions.

  They touched down, bowing before her.

  She nodded, looking to each.

  “We did a full scan of the planet’s surface, Commander,” Zahve said, smiling. “There are massive amounts of Vidral here, but they’re all in small deposits scattered over large areas on and below the surface.”

  She nodded with satisfaction. “Do we have the manpower to mine it ourselves? We’ll need a great deal of Vidral to fuel our planetary biogenerators.”

  Zahve nodded more slowly this time. “We’ll need outside help.”

  Maya looked to Samyaza. “Is there intelligent life here?”

  “Primates,” he said. “Not suitable for directed labor. Un-teachable on many levels, as is.”

  Maya looked to the trees where the birds were chirping among the wide, reedy leaves. She glanced to Zahve. “As is? These primates, can they be accelerated?”

  He’d expected the question, but gave a thoughtful answer despite his preparation for it. “Yes, possibly. In two years, we could create several thousand workers from these creatures.”

  Maya looked to the craft above them. “Would the ship last? Do we have enough time to mine this planet?”

  “We can get it done in three to five years.” Samyaza cleared his throat. “The ship will make it.”

  She saluted him, hoping he was as ready to lead the responsibility as he appeared to be. “See to it then, Samyaza.”

  He nodded, adding a salute. “As you so order, Commander.”

  Within the month the land-bound laboratory for Zahve was finished. They were pressed for time, and work with the crops had been eased to allow more labor to go to the completion of the lab, but Zahve knew it was worth it. It was the largest of the buildings among the tented campsite, taking up a full acre, and the most advanced.

  The technology was still under par with his laboratory on the Ascender, but the ship was steadily being drained of power, and he’d made alternative use of other sources available on the island. Now in the laboratory he stood at a granite table, chronicling the progress of the chimpanzees with which he was working.

  Center in the room were thirty clear capsules, each large enough to hold the chimpanzee inside, and large enough to allow for the specimen’s expected physical evolution into a taller, stouter, and more intelligent being. Around the capsules stood several Angelos in dark purple robes, each making adjustments to the devices they held in their hands, constantly allowing for fluctuations to the specimens, keeping the progress slow yet consistent.

  The delicately balanced infusions feeding into each cell were done by a thin stream of energy that danced out from the hand-held devices as the Angelos made adjustments, streaming to the chosen cell to deliver the proper intelligent information in a wave that embraced and fluctuated up the cell exterior. Too much information resulted in mutations, and too little or weak of flow could result in imbalances, such as mental retardation. It took a perfect balance, and a steady hand and mind.

  Overall, Zahve was pleased with the progress. The chart he consulted showed great promise. Commander Maya would be pleased.

  He looked to the door at the far wall as it opened briefly and Astara stepped in. She met him at the table, her deep blue eyes gazing at the cells.

  “Maya sent me over to inspect your progress, Lord Zahve,” she said, finally looking to him, her voice hushed, as if not to interfere with his work in the dimly lit environment.

  “I’m glad you could come,” he said, bowing slightly. He was ready for another comment, perhaps a compliment as she looked back to the Angelos, but Astara wasn’t in that sort of mood.

  Her attention went to him. “That looks boring, all day, every day, little bits of intelligence imparted.”

  He didn’t take offense. “We cannot infuse the evolutionary impulse without human participation and focus, Astara. This should be elementary information for a Levandra,” he said, appealing to her own genetics. “But see what we’ve accomplished with all this boring activity!”

  He turned to gesture to the wall behind him. It was lined with a mural-like picture showing the stages of the chimps’ development. They weren’t life-size, but close, and Astara stepped around the table to get a better view.

  “All this in so short a time,” she murmured, her interest held by one of the stages, where the specimen was fully erect, its arms shorter than the preceding image, its forehead smoother and less protruding.

  She turned to look at the celled chambers. “May I inspect further?”

  Zahve smiled. “I’d be honored.”

  Astara quietly went to the collection of tube cells, giving a few of them long moments of attention as they investigated the progress. Many appeared to look the same, some with minor changes, a few more without any changes. She stopped before one, noting the lack of body hair and how it seemed less tightly-limbed than the others. She passed this one, moving carefully around one of the Angelos that was attending several of the capsules, and halted again.

  This specimen was more evolved, unusually humanoid, its face and torso early hairless and without the prominent brow and flaring nostrils. And male, she also noted.

  “What of this one?” she asked as Zahve caught up to her. She looked the physical build over better of the specimen, eyes lingering on the well-shaped muscles and definite jaw line that set it apart from the others. “Is it another breed?”

  “No; that is Jacinto, the oldest,” Zahve told her. “Our first success in this world. The same breed, but more readily adapting.”

  She nodded, looking to the three capsules in line near Jacinto’s cell. They were similarly evolving, but at a slower rate. “And these?”

  “Once I cleared Jacinto’s genetic pathways for reprogramming, I began experimenting with these,” Zahve explained. “As you can see, there’s clear progress.”

  She gave them a thorough study, for her report to Commander Maya, she told herself. “These creatures are losing their bestial traits,” she said, eyes roaming over the less primate characteristics of the specimens. “Are you traveling beyond the seventh Threshold?”

  Zahve claimed his most scientific sounding tone. “We’ve developed a protocol for creating several thousand workers in a few years. If we don’t make that quota,” he said gravely, “there’ll be no planetary biogenerators.”

  Both Astara and Zahve looked to Samyaza as he stepped from the shadows of the laboratory where a few empty cells were stored.

  A slight frown came to Astara’s face.

  “Is that why you’re here?” Samyaza asked her, overhearing a few words of their conversation. “To worry about evolutionary thresholds?”

  “I came here to see the experiments,” she told him, her voice level, but with a hint of coolness, “but I didn’t expect to be treated to any clear violations of the Codex. I expected to see beasts of burden – advanced, somewhat - but not humanoid. We don’t need to create planetary biogenerators. We can survive well enough with smaller units.”

  Samyaza looked from her to Zahve, and back to Astara. “Our mission was to take this entire world for the Angelos.”

  “Not with these methods.” She flipped one hand in the direction of the cells. “I must ask you to stop, Captain Samyaza, or I’ll be forced to intervene.”

  She turned abruptly and crossed the floor to the laboratory door. He followed.

  “I don’t want any conflict between us,” he said, making her turn to face him. His voice was lower, not wishing to share the conversation with the scientist. He waited for her face to soften
, to let him know that the primates’ progress was nothing personal for her, too. “Nothing has changed for me. Not between you and me. Nothing will ever change.”

  Her face didn’t relent to softness. There can be nothing between us if you persist in this way.”

  She opened the door and left.

  Samyaza watched it close, muting the sunlight outside. He felt the cold of the shadowed laboratory slip over him, as if Astara took the warmth with her.

  He shot a glance back to the cells of specimens, and then left.

  That evening Commander Maya called a meeting for the council at the semi-circle of tents in the complex. Dusk settled over the encampment canopied by stars, and the Ascender hovered several miles above them, its pulsations slightly fading. It was an ever present reminder of the necessity for speed in their present world, Maya knew. A world that, so far, may only consist of a few square miles.

  The colonists knew of their need for swift progress, too, as did Zahve.

  Maya stood to one side of the raised platform of bamboo that had been constructed for just such an occasion. She crossed her arms and watched as Astara stood at the podium, looking out over the colonists who had given much time and energy into making the island hospitable. Not every colonist was present, as some had obligations, but the few dozen that were gathered would talk, and gossip, perhaps, and take away the vital aspects of the meeting to the other colonists.

  At least, that was what each of them was hoping. Maya looked to Zahve and Samyaza waiting their turns to speak. She knew each had their own agenda.

  “Thank you,” Astara said, taking a step back from the podium after her initial greeting to the colonists. “I have called this meeting,” she said, and then turned as Zahve took a few steps toward the podium. She quickly glanced to him, shaking her head. “You’ll have your say in due time, Lord Zahve,” she said just loud enough for him to hear.

  He stepped back, dissolving into the shadows again, slightly miffed.

  Astara looked back out over the assembled listeners. “I’ve called this meeting to inform the Colonial Council that Captain Samyaza and Lord Zahve have gone far beyond the improvement of bestial stock to provide us with workers for our Vidral mines,” she told them. “They’re in the process of creating a humanoid species, an evolutionary process that would normally take hundreds of thousands of years.”