by Aer-ki Jyr
Paul nodded. “Jedi, not Sith.”
“You could put it that way, yes. Which is another reason why we can’t replicate any of Earth’s current or previous militaries.”
“Including the V’kit’no’sat?” Morgan asked.
Davis eyed her for a moment, suspecting where that question was arising from. “I realize my holding back information from you can be frustrating at times, but I don’t want to suppress your creativity by giving you too much knowledge of the enemy. We need to establish our own identity, our own procedures and philosophies rather than becoming the anti-V’kit’no’sat. The information will be made available to you in time, but for now we need to focus on base building.”
“And,” Wilson interjected, “with our technological inferiority, our best weapon against them could be a tactic that they’ve never developed, and if we copy their battle strategies we lose out on discovering anything truly original.”
“Point taken,” Paul agreed.
“Still,” Morgan persisted. “A trip to the pyramid wouldn’t seem out of order at some point.”
Davis suppressed a laugh. “There are exactly 42 people that have been allowed inside, my being one of them. All but two of them are still there, working to backwards engineer the technology inside while maintaining the secrecy of the site, which is paramount. If word of its existence leaked out, everything would change…how exactly I’m not sure, but most likely we would lose possession. In order to avoid that eventuality the pyramid was reburied and a small service tunnel was constructed underground linking to a relatively nearby Pegasus outpost, which I’ve quietly been expanding.”
“That research outpost is the front that allows technology and data to flow back to Atlantis for our people here to work on. Any unnecessary shipments of personnel to Antarctica could draw unwanted attention, and for that reason the pyramid has to remain off limits to everyone. Even I haven’t been back down there in more than a decade.”
“Why not establish a Star Force presence…build directly over the site even?” Jason asked.
“Political turf wars,” Davis said with obvious irreverence in his voice. “While no one has official claim to the continent, there are zones under the supervision of various nations. Pegasus’s outpost exists with the permission of the US and Australian governments. If we were to establish a Star Force base it could get legally tricky, and the last thing we would want is to build and then be forced out. Better to let people think we have no interests down there and protect the site through anonymity.”
“Risky,” Morgan commented.
“It is, but until we have a better option we’re going to keep whistling in the dark.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, not understanding the reference.
“Hoping nothing goes wrong,” Davis clarified for the Aussie.
“We’ll have to secure it eventually,” Paul said, agreeing with Jason.
“Yet another reason why we need a military,” Wilson pointed out.
“We have no leverage at the moment…at least, nothing more than a bluff,” Davis explained. “Economic pressure only goes so far. If one nation wanted to push the issue and seize what we have now, we couldn’t stop them. Other nations could and probably would, given how profitable we are to them, but until we can stand on our own we don’t dare touch Antarctica with any Star Force personnel.”
“So we need to get our asses in gear before the whole charade falls on its face,” Jason summed up.
“It’s not quite that bad,” Davis said, “but there is a sleeping threat. So long as it stays sleeping I can deal with it through conventional means, but we won’t truly be safe until we can take physical control over our assets, both on the surface and in space.”
“Are any of our stations currently armed?” Paul asked.
“Not yet. Star Force doesn’t do business with any military ventures, and until we can reveal the presence of our own military we can’t visibly be arming anything.”
“But you are doing weapons research and development somewhere?” Morgan asked.
“Quietly so, but we haven’t fielded any of the equipment yet. They’re all still listed as prototypes.”
“Do we have a team of engineers to work with?” Paul asked.
“You have direct access through the comm gear in your design room. You can conference with an engineering team, even have direct access to the people doing the weapons research. Your quarters and auxiliary facilities are designed to allow you to work as efficiently and effectively as possible, with remote access to all Star Force installations and ships.”
“Speaking of which,” Paul said, slightly changing subjects. “What’s with the train station in the lounge?”
Davis exchanged a glance with Wilson. “That is a secret transit system that operates independent of the primary network of elevators. It links your quarters to other secure locations within Atlantis, allowing you more rapid transportation and thereby decreasing wasted time in transit.”
“It also keeps you away from everyone else,” Wilson added. “You’re going to need the privacy.”
“For what?” Morgan asked suspiciously.
“You said there were two reasons you brought us here,” Jason added. “What’s the second one?”
Davis reached across his desk to a small box and opened the top by entering a three digit access code. From inside he pulled out a tiny vial, the size of half his index finger, and set it down on the clear panel that was his desk in between himself and the three adepts.
“This,” he said, leaving the red liquid in the sunlight so that it cast an eerie colored shadow that seemed to pulse with energy.
“What is it?” Jason asked, leaning forward slightly.
“A secret from Antarctica,” Davis said stoically.
Wilson looked at Jason with a bemused smile on his face. “Buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, cause Kansas is going bye bye.”
3
“Meaning what, exactly?” Jason demanded.
A strange look crossed over Morgan’s face. “The Black Knight,” she whispered, looking at Davis for confirmation.
Paul and Jason exchanged glances as Davis smiled slowly. “Well deduced.”
“He’s on drugs?” Jason asked, slightly aghast.
“No,” Davis said, then wavered after a glare from Wilson. “Well, sort of. Vermaire is a complicated situation.”
“Do tell,” Paul insisted.
Davis leaned back in his chair and blew out a long breath. “Andre Vermaire was formerly a stuntman working in Hollywood as well as a skilled martial artist. We originally recruited him to help build and oversee our hand to hand combat regimen, both for you and our other Star Force personnel, with an emphasis towards our security forces. He spent two years doing just that until I brought him fully into the fold on the A7 project along with a handful of other people, including Wilson.”
Davis pointed to the vial standing poetically still on his desk. “This is a mixture of synthetic molecules…synthetic because they do not appear to originate from any organic structure, ostensibly created and manufactured by the V’kit’no’sat, though the original source is unknown to us. They have no name for the compound, only a serial number. We call it Ambrosia.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “Nectar of the Gods?”
“Yes, we thought it was as fitting a name as any. We discovered barrels of the stuff in Antarctica, and later found the corresponding files in the database. It is what you would call a nutritional supplement that was given to their Human slaves.”
“Along with others,” Wilson added.
“I’m getting there,” Davis admonished him. “According to the database the ambrosia had the potential to strengthen the Humans, and was in fact designed specifically for them. The Dinosaurs had their own mixture…actually several, we think, possibly one for each of their races but we haven’t yet been able to confirm that. Our understanding of their language is functional at best, and our access into their computer systems is limited
. We believe we have genetic access to some of the files that their slaves would have had, and have been trying to hack into the rest for years with minimal results.”
“They made their slaves stronger?” Morgan asked, not fully understanding.
Davis nodded appreciatively. He’d been down this line of thought many times before. “Try not to think of them as the slaves you’re familiar with from history, such as the Egyptians who built the pyramids with expandable manual labor. The roll of a slave can be many things, but the basic definition is that they do not possess their own freedom, and have someone or something as their master or owner. In the case of the V’kit’no’sat Empire, Humans were subservient to the Dinosaurs and their primary slave race, though there have been reference to others.”
“Even still, within the social structure of the Dinosaurs there appeared to be divisions. What they are or how deep they ran we do not know, but it is possible that some of the races were in fact slaves to the others, just as Humans were slaves to them. That’s a theory, but keep in mind that the stronger each race became, the stronger the overall V’kit’no’sat collective became. Weak slaves were of no use to them.”
“Add in the fact,” Wilson said, “that even augmented, the Humans were still vastly weaker than even the smallest Dinosaurs, so strengthening them didn’t pose a security risk.”
“Are the Humans counted as V’kit’no’sat?” Morgan asked. “I thought that was just another name for Dinosaur?”
A smirk found its way to Davis’s face. “Again, we’re not completely sure. We know that the Empire was called V’kit’no’sat, but so were the Dinosaurs within the social structure from the Humans’ point of view. How many races that included…we have no clue. Were there races of Dinosaur that existed outside the Empire? We know of one that rebelled and left, the Rit’ko’sor, but were there others? At this point it’s still speculation. The pyramid database is massive, and we’ve barely been able to scratch the surface…and that’s of the parts that we know are there. If there are in fact genetic locks, then there could be a lot more in the system than we know of.”
“We know they used Humans as troops,” Wilson explained. “Often in a special forces roll where their small size was useful. Those teams were well trained, efficient, and large in number. The Dinosaurs didn’t seem to care about losing Humans, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t equip them to win. They had both advanced technology and physical augmentation, including the ambrosia.”
“What exactly does it do?” Paul asked. “You make it sound like a super vitamin.”
Davis deferred to Wilson with a glance.
“Let me ask you this,” he said, looking directly at Jason who was nearest to him. “What would happen if you continued training as you have been and we decided to take away all sugar out of your diet?”
Jason’s face scrunched up in horror. “I don’t even want to think about that.”
“Try,” Wilson insisted.
Jason’s face blanked as he thought. “I’m pretty sure our workouts would tank, but beyond that and being constantly hungry I’m not sure what would happen.”
“Our metabolism would slow,” Morgan answered. “We’d have to eat a greater volume of food to get the same calories, and there would be an absorption lag. Sugar gets digested faster than anything else.”
“You’re saying this is food?” Paul asked Davis, gesturing to the vial of ambrosia.
“It has some caloric value, but not enough to live off of. This is the amount that I ingest over the span of a month.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re on it?”
Davis nodded. “Minimal amounts for the past five years.”
“So you could kick our asses right now if you wanted to?” Paul asked.
Davis laughed. “No, no…not even close.”
Wilson mock glared at them. “Come now, what are you expecting from a70-year old?”
Morgan, Paul, and Jason all frowned in sync and stared at Davis.
“You don’t look a day over 50,” Morgan said.
“72 actually,” Davis clarified. “Though I was a bit older before I started taking the ambrosia…and training,” he added before Wilson could say anything.
“It makes you younger?” Jason asked. That didn’t sound right to him.
Again, Davis deferred to Wilson.
“You’ve been told from the day that you were born that you were going to grow old and die and there was nothing you could do about it…if you were lucky enough to live that long. Have you ever wondered why that is?”
Morgan answered for the trio. “Attrition.”
Wilson nodded once. “Then why aren’t you dead already?”
“We’re barely adults. There hasn’t been time.”
Wilson shook his head. “You’re assuming that children are immune to attrition. Why?”
“Because they’re in a state of flux while they’re growing,” Morgan lightly argued. “When that cycle ends is when the attrition begins to take place.”
“Hasn’t that ever bothered you?” Davis asked.
“Yes,” Paul answered honestly.
“How so?”
“Why does it shut off? Why do kids heal faster than adults? We should get stronger over time, not weaker. It’s backwards.”
“It is backwards,” Wilson confirmed, “because it’s not true. You’ve been lied to your entire life.”
“How?” Morgan asked, repositioning her seat so she could get a better angle past Paul’s head. She was intently curious, even more so than the others.
“What’s the purpose of inoculating kids against diseases?”
Paul answered this time. “To keep them from getting sick later by using a dead or weak version of the virus for the body to adapt to.”
“How does that adaptation occur?”
“The immune system leaves behind virus-specific antibodies so it can more quickly recognize the infection next time.”
“It does far more than that,” Wilson said with mild disgust. “That’s looking at it from a scientist’s perspective, and they know very little. They’re observers, and there’s only so much they can learn looking from the outside in. It’s like a 20-year Nascar fan thinking they know how to drive because they’ve studied the sport from every angle possible…but put them in the car in a race at speed, and odds are they’ll hit the wall before making a full lap. Biology, and life in general, is too complex to scientifically disassemble. You can’t isolate a single variable when you have thousands at play simultaneously…which is why you should never listen to a scientist or doctor when it comes to training.”
“He has a bit of a pet peeve with doctors,” Davis noted.
“And for good reason,” Wilson reinforced. “They have a body of their own that they could study using the biofeedback that only they can access, but that would mean getting their fat asses out of the lab coats and onto the track. They don’t, because they’re lazy and messed up in the head. Because of that, they will never understand certain concepts…one being adaptation through adversity.”
“Back up from the specifics of the immune system that you learned about in school and look at it from a user standpoint. Your body engages in battle against a virus or other illness and learns from it, if it survives. It adapts and becomes stronger against that particular illness, making it less likely to occur again, quicker in duration, and/or milder in case. This is why children are inoculated with a weak ‘opponent,’ so their bodies can learn from it without actually making them sick. A bit of a cheat, but somewhat useful, though not nearly as effective as surviving the actual illness.”
“That means adults should be more immune to disease than they were as children…getting back to your point about everything seeming backwards,” he said, referring to Paul. “Why would your body be getting stronger in one aspect and going backwards in another?”
“That does sound a bit conflicted,” Jason admitted.
“Because it technically doesn’t,” Wilson shar
ed with them like it was the greatest secret the world had ever known.
“Ok, I’ll play Captain Obvious and point out the fact that billions of people around the planet are growing old and dying,” Paul said for the benefit of the conversation, though he too was very interested in where Wilson was going with this. “If they’re not getting weaker, what’s going on?”
“No, they are getting weaker,” Wilson said, letting that hang in the air for a moment. “The real question is why. People generally don’t want to know because they think it’s inevitable anyway, but have you ever thought about what causes a ‘natural’ death? People are labeled of dying of natural causes all the time, but what really happened to them? Or the more pertinent question would be ‘What broke?’ Because something always breaks, whether it be the heart, lungs, kidney, liver, brain…something always fails to cause death.”
“But we’re back to attrition again,” Morgan pointed out.
Wilson pointed at her. “But why does it take so long?”
Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying we’re fighting it?”
Wilson smiled. “Of course we are, otherwise we’d be dead inside of 5 years. We’d never even make it to adulthood.”
Jason inclined his head slightly as an insight came to him. “You’re saying old age is an accumulation of damage that is accruing faster than we can heal it?”
Wilson nodded. “And that is something that the medical and scientific communities will not accept, because…”
“Because if it’s damage,” Morgan interrupted him, “then that damage has to come from a source, and with knowledge of the source it’s variable. Get the amount of daily attrition below your daily healing level and you can stop the aging process, maybe even reverse it?”
“Exactly,” Wilson said, glad that she could make the logical progression. “Which means if someone is growing old it’s at least partially their fault…and lazy people do not want to hear that. They’d rather believe it’s inevitable and carry on with their stagnant lifestyle than face the facts. But in order to maintain their delusion everyone has to grow old without exception, which is why in society you have taboos around anything relating to living forever. Children are told that growing up and growing old is just a natural part of life, that it’s supposed to be that way. You even have entertainment written to make people believe that a normal, stagnant life is better than having superpowers and living forever. It’s sick when you begin to see how deep the social corruption goes.”