by T. R. Harris
After a few more moments of shared depression, Euker and her entourage left the laboratory, leaving Adam alone with Sherri, Panur and Lila.
“You have it?” Panur asked anxiously.
Adam hesitated slightly before handing the case to the mutant; his new TeraDon form took getting used to, that this was indeed Panur. Once he had the disk, Panur took it to one of the exam rooms in the back of the building and away from the main workroom where any casual visitor could see what he was doing.
Adam frowned at the skeletal device he saw sitting on a table and encased in a glass container. It was simple enough to figure out what it was.
It was a holder for the Formation disks, with one already in place. The one in the holder was the disk Adam had kept from the mutants for a year before finally revealing its existence. Now that he had recovered the other disk from Stimmel, Panur would have two to play with.
The metal frame for the holder was about eighteen inches high and supported by metal rods running horizontally. Four needle-like pins held the disk in its grasp, positioned slightly inside the wafer’s outer ring before clamping it into place. Four inches below this array was another holder, minus the disk. A series of lights, scanners and other sensing equipment was below this, aimed at a fine mesh netting about eight inches in diameter. Tubing ran to the glass case, telling Adam that a vacuum could be created within the container.
Panur opened the case holding the second disk and grasped it with a pair of forceps. It made Adam nervous each time the mutants took such care handling the objects. He’d played with both of them at one time or another, flipping them like silver dollars and without using precautions. He’d rubbed his fingers across the surfaces and even held them close to his face as he’d examined them under bright light and magnifying glass. If they weren’t dangerous to the touch, then why did the mutants treat them as if they were? He’d asked about this before and never got a straight answer. All they would say is they weren’t taking chances. Chances against what?
“Have you figured out what they do?” Sherri asked as she moved to the table and examined the glass box. This was the first time she’d seen it.
“Yes, we have, to a degree,” Lila answered. She opened the box and then stood back as Panur placed the second disk in the holder below the first. She then closed the case and activated the vacuum pump.
“Well, are you going to tell us what they are or not?” Sherri asked out of frustration.
“Oh, yes. The disks are filters,” Lila said.
Chapter 3
“Filters?” Sherri gasped. “All of this because of a bunch of filters. What do they filter?”
“Organic material,” Lila answered.
Panur went to a cabinet and opened a long drawer. He carefully removed a set of yellowing pages and set them on the table next to the apparatus.
“Let me explain,” he began. “Within the Gracilian vault, we found broken remnants of documents detailing the Formation and its purpose—”
“Wait a minute!” Adam interrupted, leaning in closer to examine the pages. Most were taped together, forming a ragged jigsaw puzzle of sorts, although with several prominent pieces missing. “Paper? You’re telling me that the million-year-old-civilization of the Aris used paper.”
“This is much more than paper, I assure you. But in a basic sense, you are correct. They relied on written words set down on sheets of synthetic material to detail what the Formation is and from where it came. If you think about it, it makes sense.”
“Then perhaps you can enlighten me because I’m not seeing it.”
Panur sighed impatiently. “If I must. At the time of the documents’ creation, the Aris faced an indeterminate period in hibernation as their Grand Experiment proceeded. Because of this, they needed a form of data transfer and preservation that could withstand the rigors of time and technology. Electronic files can be lost or corrupted, and even methods of recording and playback could change dramatically. Even if the files survived, they might not be able to be read. But a paper document could be read by anyone with knowledge of the Aris language. In addition, the texts could be read by candlelight in a cave or the laboratory of the two most intelligent beings in the galaxy.” Panur/TeraDon grinned.
“You’re saying this document survived three billion years?” Sherri asked. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It is not true paper, but even then, time did turn the pages brittle, and during the recovery process, they broke apart. Most we’ve reassembled, and for the pieces we didn’t have, we inferred. The reading device you got from Stimmel was the key to deciphering the text. There are multiple layers of data embedded in the material. It’s quite fascinating and advanced. As I said, it is much more than paper. But without the reader, we would have learned only a fraction of what we know now. At the time of Kracion’s attack, the Gracilians were also trying to restore the documents. Whether they knew of the reading device at the time is not known.”
Adam leaned down to examine the pages closer, unable to read a single character or word. He couldn’t read ancient Aris, but apparently, Panur and Lila could.
“So, what does it say?”
“From what we deciphered,” Panur began, “it is a history of the Formation, a summary of who built it and its purpose—”
In the past, Adam had suffered through too many of Panur’s lectures, so he knew what was coming. The genius preferred the slow reveal, working up to the climax. Adam was too impatient for that.
“Just cut to the chase, will you?”
Panur frowned. “Patience, Adam. The story I’m about to relate is quite fascinating. You might learn something.” The mutant regathered his thoughts and began again. “The Formation was built by a race called the Pri at the end of the First Epoch. Through the documents, we learned that life in the galaxy goes through cycles of approximately five billion years each. Life develops, matures and then dies off at the end of each Epoch. The Pri were the most-advanced and longest living of the species from the First Epoch. They understood the evolutionary process, and just as the Aris would do billions of years later, they attempted to modify it, to control it. They built the Formation to accomplish just that. And when it came time for the Aris to perform modification experiments on primal DNA in their quest for the Apex Being, they used the Formation to make those modifications.”
“So, that’s how they did it, with this thing?” Adam asked.
Panur smiled. “Not this particular thing, but a completed Formation.”
Adam glared at the mutant. Somehow, his snide remarks were more grating when delivered by the handsome face. “Okay, smartass, but how does it work?”
Adam studied the innocent-looking glass box. It was a foot wide by three feet high, and hardly the device one would expect to seed life throughout the galaxy.
Panur continued. “Within each of the eight boxes containing the disks was a hidden and secure compartment holding something called an activation disk. The Gracilians surely knew of this, even if you didn’t at the time you stole the other disks. These eight master disks serve as power sources for the Formation. Between them go the filters, the thinner disks we have here. Within a filter stack, there can be as few as zero disks between masters, or up to nine. The height and configuration of the filters determine what comes out the other end. In a way, the process is similar to what the creature Te’moc does within his body. He distills living matter into a form for transfer into another. As you know, that was how I was created, and since I carry Te’moc’s essence within me, that is how I can transfer my essence between the master body and that of TeraDon. However, there is a big difference between what Te’moc does and the Formation.”
“Like what?” Sherri asked.
“Where Te’moc needs a fully-formed living being for distillation, the Formation can take the most basic organic material and convert it into any other complex organic form. Because of its ability to essentially create life from simple amino acids, the Formation played a vital role in the
plans of the Aris, to the point of making their Grand Experiment possible. They used it first to seed the galaxy with the necessary ingredients for advanced life, eventually leading to the Apex Being, their true immortal creation. Later, they intended to use it to convert Lila into a form that could infuse the surviving Aris with the immortality they so desperately desired. As you see, the Formation was essential to both the beginning and the end of the Aris’ Grand Experiment.”
Adam looked at his daughter, Lila. She was the Apex Being, the culmination of the Aris’ three-billion-year-long experiment, the only natural-born immortal. She smiled demurely.
“It can do all that?” Adam asked.
“Yes. As the base organic stock moves through the stack, it becomes filtered, modified and refined. And consider this.” Panur pointed to the bottom disk in the two-disk stack. “The variations in the filtering process are, for all practical purposes, infinite.”
“How is that possible?” Adam asked. “How many combinations can there be? Eight master disks, with up to nine of the filter disks in a row. It’s a big number, but certainly not infinity.”
“But it is when you consider that each disk can be rotated a degree at a time, and when you do, that forms a new path for the material to travel. Not only that, but the disks can also be offset by up to two-thirds of their diameter, creating a whole new set of permutations. Imagine looking through a kaleidoscope and making only a slight twist of the ring. The pattern changes. Even the slightest movement alters everything. Trust me, the number is mind-boggling, even for Lila and me. That’s why we are anxious to study even the most rudimentary filtering effect of two disks. We have run material through the single filter we had, with little reward.” Panur scowled at Adam. “We would be light-years ahead in our research if you’d given us both of the disks you’d taken in the first place.”
Adam swallowed hard. “But Kanan said he needed all the disks to make it work. I didn’t think he could do anything with me having a couple of them.”
“That is what you get for thinking. The all disks claim was a misnomer. What Kanan needed were all eight activation disks, not the filters. He now has the masters, and he’s experimenting with the Formation, searching for the right combination.”
“Combination to what?” Sherri asked.
“It is not so much a what as a why. He’s attempting to discover the logic of the sequencing. It cannot be random; there are too many possibilities for that. There has to be a progression for him to follow.”
“That could take thousands of years to try enough combinations, along with a boatload of dead aliens,” Sherri said. “What do you think he’s trying to create with the Formation?”
“Truthfully, it would take millions of years to test all the combinations,” Panur corrected. “And we can only speculate what he intends to do with the knowledge.”
“That’s obvious,” Adam announced, thinking back to the melted blobs of once-living beings he saw earlier. “He’s trying to make a virus to wipe out anyone who won’t bow down to him.”
Panur shook his head. “That’s possible, but it’s not consistent with what we know of the service module.”
“And what do we know about the insane Aris service module?” Adam asked sarcastically.
“We know he’s not stable, and that he considers himself to be the last Aris, even though he’s a machine. That shows the depth of his insanity. Lila and I have debated this question and have an idea. We feel he’s trying to recreate the Aris race, to seed the species on a thousand worlds—”
“Can he do that?” Sherri asked. “And even if he could, wouldn’t that take billions of years for the race to develop?”
“Unfortunately, no. When the Aris created the raw material that would lead to Prime life, they had very little to work with, only primal ooze in most cases. Not only that, but they needed multiple species evolving along similar lines in order to create the immortal being they sought. For their experiment to succeed, they needed the time.”
“I’ve always wondered why that was necessary, having interspecies mating?” Adam asked. It was his pairing with the Formilian Arieel Bol that created Lila.
“That is because they needed evolution to work its magic. Consider this: Even though the galaxy is seemingly rich in Prime life, its creation is a rare occurrence. By all rights, there should be millions of planets supporting Primes, but in reality, there are only around ten thousand. Why? That’s because of the myriad dangers lurking within the galaxy. Stars explode, planets collide, orbits change and natural disasters occur. It is the lucky few who make it through this shooting-gallery to form a stable platform for Prime life to develop. Be assured, the Aris seeded far more worlds with the elements of life than we see today. And because of this, they needed to play the odds that at some point species would develop which would carry the seeds of immortality. And it had to be a combination of races, a hybrid.”
“Why’s that?” Adam asked.
“Because if a species develops a primitive form of immortality along the way, it will cease to evolve. Jellyfish of your native Earth are good examples of this. They are essentially immortal, able to revert to a more primitive form of itself when threatened, before beginning the growth process again. This is a form of immortality, but not what the Aris had in mind. All living organisms must evolve to survive, to reproduce. Immortality is anathema to this process. One would not want to continue to evolve once reaching immortality and risk the chance of evolving back into a mortal status. Once an immortal being is created, that is the end of the line for evolution of the species. The race will remain as it is forever. The Aris were not seeking a primitive jellyfish-type organism in which to attain immortality. They needed a Prime, and that’s why a merging of races was needed. Both would bring something to the table with neither having reached the point of stagnation somewhere in their distant past.”
“And the Aris were going to use the Formation to distill Lila?” Sherri reiterated. Then her eyes grew wide. “They must have known the right combination of disks to use,” she stammered. “And the other species they created. Did they each require a unique combination?”
Panur nodded. “They did. Every world they seeded had a unique base of primal material to work from.”
“That would mean they used thousands of combinations … how did they know which ones?”
“Because they had the Code.”
“The code?” Adam asked. “What code?”
“There is a code device,” Panur said. “We’re not sure what specific form it takes, but it’s referenced in the documents. Supposedly, it contains the proper disk combinations and configurations for the Formation. The device was contained in the same vessel in which the Aris placed the Formation at the time they initiated their Grand Experiment. They knew their world would soon be destroyed, with its fragments cast into space. The Formation and the Code had to be protected against the ravages of time. So, they built a special vessel described as having sensors and a propulsion system to keep it from harm, a spaceship of some kind. Eventually, the vessel was discovered, as evidenced by the existence of the Formation in our time.” He indicated the parchment on the table. “At the time, the instruction documents were in such poor condition—and written in a language no one could understand—that the early miners didn’t know what they had. They thought it was just another cache of ancient Aris artifacts, which, as you know, are in high demand across the galaxy, sought by both governments and private parties alike. The items were sold, including the Code device. Over time, the Gracilians came to acquire the Formation disks and much of the ancient text. The Code device was not among the inventory of the Gracilian vault. We must assume it is in the hands of a collector who has no idea what it is.”
“And this Code device—as you call it—is the key to making the Formation work?” Sherri confirmed.
Panur shrugged. “It can still perform, but on a completely haphazard basis. Organic material can be fed in one end, and something different comes o
ut the other. But with the astronomical number of possible combinations, it would be pure luck to create something worthwhile.”
“Do you think Kanan knows about the Code?” Adam asked.
“Undoubtedly. Kanan was the service module for a Privileged Aris at the time of the Grand Experiment. Before the Formation, the Aris already had an immortality project, yet one designed around artificial bodies as containers for their minds. That was when they discovered the Formation and the Code. They had remained hidden for billions of years, and when the Aris deciphered the ancient text, it changed the thinking of the Aris. They now envisioned a scenario where they could retain their physical bodies while still attaining immortality. The Formation could do that, although it would take billions of years for their experiment to come to fruition. As we know, there was much debate on the proper course of action. But with advancements in hibernation technology, a majority of the Aris saw the long-term project as their best option. The time required became a non-issue. They could simply fall asleep and wake up a moment later with the Experiment completed.”
“And the Formation made that possible,” Adam said with reverence, looking at the mutant’s crude version of the Formation. “So, that’s how they did it.”
“Isn’t discovery cool?” Panur said, a giddiness in his voice. “For billions of years, the vast majority of advanced life in the galaxy has been a part of the Aris Grand Experiment, and even to this day, we are still learning of its origins. I once assumed the project came about from the incredible knowledge the Aris possessed at the time. Now, we learn they relied on the genius of an even more ancient race—the Ari. Imagine what they must have been like in their prime.”
“But if Kanan knows about the Code device, why isn’t he looking for it?” Sherri asked. “Instead, he’s experimenting with various filter combinations.”