Sapiosaurus | Out Of Time

by Lon McQuillin

  “I said that Deirdre is a doctor. Is there anything that you need that she might provide?”

  “Touolok will examine us soon. Perhaps your doctor could assist.”

  Hummford relayed the exchange to McCollum, who nodded.

  “What other species now exist?” asked Garlmek.

  “Steph, he’s asking what other species exist today. How should I answer?”

  “Tell them this,” Mitchell replied. Hummford translated her response.

  “There are thousands of species of mammals, reptiles, birds, insects and fishes alive today. Our species, humans, are now the dominant species, and are the only fully sentient species on land. There are presently more than seven billion of us.”

  Garlmek interrupted when he heard this, and it took several iterations to verify the number.

  “But Our Place — at least the Our Place of our time — could not possibly sustain so large a number. How is this possible?”

  “It’s not possible. We’re doing tremendous damage to the planet, and large numbers of our race are malnourished or even dying as the results of overpopulation.”

  Some of the words she used were either beyond Hummford’s vocabulary or simply didn’t exists in the Sapio tongue, but she managed to convey the meaning nonetheless.

  Over the next two hours, Mitchell and the others described the Earth in the early 21st century. Garlmek and Touolok were alternately appalled and enthralled with what they learned. The scale of human overpopulation, and the damage being done to the planet horrified them. The Noaud had kept their own population constant, at around twenty-five million spread across 31 main cities, each surrounded by villages.

  The two recoiled at accounts of the wars of the 20th century, unable to conceive how members of a species could kill others of its own kind, even individually, let alone on a grand scale. They also found it difficult to understand the concept of crime. Their own commerce had been based on barter, with jewelry as the common currency.

  On the other hand, some of humanity’s achievements impressed them greatly. Garlmek was quite taken with airplanes, which they had known were theoretically possible, but never developed. And having dreamed of traveling among the stars, he was thrilled to learn that the humans had developed space travel, even if only to the Moon physically — with Mars due for the first human landing in the near future — and via remote probes to the edges of the solar system and beyond.

  He was also fascinated by the just-completed project that had catalogued all major Earth-crossing asteroids, and by the plan to deflect any that might threaten the planet with fusion engines.

  He was stunned to learn that most of mankind’s technological progress had occurred in roughly a century, and that the roots of modern civilization went back only around 10,000 years. The Noaud civilization had been millions of years old, and its technology had developed gradually and steadily, with thousands or millions of years between major advances. The electro-repulsive technology used within the city, for instance, had been a relatively recent development at the time of the asteroid, dating back only about a million and a half years.

  Human technology, by contrast, had virtually exploded, in step with the human population. Garlmek realized that this was the major difference. In the instance of heavier-than-air flight, the Noaud built and flew toy aircraft, but lacked the industrial base to support the development of large-scale versions.

  He had no doubt that they eventually would have succeeded, using a different approach based on gravity repulsion. This would have given them both air and space travel through the same technology.

  But he also sensed another major cultural difference. His initial impression was that humans, with life spans roughly half that of the Noaud, seemed to always be in a hurry to accomplish, to learn and progress. The most common Noaud homily, on the other hand, was “There is time.” Or so they had thought.

  It was now late evening for the humans, and Mitchell suggested that they withdraw. Touolok said that she and her husband could also benefit from some sleep, after they had had something to eat. There was a brief discussion about having either Hummford or Rugierro stay in the Penthouse in case the Sapios needed anything, but Garlmek assured the humans that they would be fine on their own.

  “We had planned and prepared to awaken alone. We have everything we need, for now.”

  “Most of us sleep for approximately five and a half of your measures,” said Hummford. “We will return in the morning.”

  The two Sapios stood and bowed, and the humans returned the gesture.

  “Where will you sleep?” asked the linguist.

  “There are rests in the medical room. We will sleep in them.”

  The humans took their leave, and the Noaud found themselves alone for the first time. They entered the pantry, and gathered together a meal.

  “Dearest Touolok, I feel like I have not eaten in several tens of millions of years.” She smiled, but said nothing.

  “The humans do not appear to know of the Offspring. I believe we would be wise not to disclose their existence at this time.”

  “I agree,” she replied. “The humans have a capacity for violence that disturbs me greatly. It is fortuitous that the entrance to the lower chambers is not obvious.”

  “It is also fortuitous that in the haste to convert the mastaba there was insufficient time to fully document the changes. There is only the recording of the transmissions to the other cities, which is on a numbered but untitled tablet.”

  Touolok looked sharply at Garlmek. She had not thought about the other cities in the brief time since awakening.

  “Do you imagine that there’s any chance the other mastabas might yet hold Noaud life?”

  He thought for a long time before answering.

  “Yes, I believe it is possible. The fact that there are obviously no Noaud on Our Place today would indicate that any who were revived a relatively short time after the arrival of the Intruder did not manage to survive. If other cities were buried under sands or oceans, they might still be in suspension, and never be found. Or perhaps they will be found someday, thousands or millions of years further into the future.”

  They sat in silence, both struck by how completely alone they were on what was now an unfamiliar planet. In part, it was something that they had been counseled on, and had tried to prepare themselves for, but the situation was different from what had been envisioned. They had expected to awaken — if at all — to a planet where they would still be the dominant species. The existence of the humans changed everything.

  “I begin to wonder if we should even consider incubation,” said Touolok.

  “There are many questions that must be answered before such a decision can be made. Our plan to repopulate the city is now impossible. Many of our resources scattered throughout the city are currently inaccessible. Even should we find a new place to live, it would take years before a large number of the Offspring would reach maturity, able to work alongside us.”

  Touolok nodded, chewing on some of what Greissman called “green food” as her husband continued.

  “Our fate, it would appear, rests in the hands of the humans. In this much different world, it will be up to them to decide whether they are willing to share Our Place with another race. We have not the power to make the repopulation a reality. We now have only the power to decide not to repopulate.”

  They finished their meal, and walked to the infirmary. After a long embrace and a brief nuzzling, they sat on two of the rests, and settled in to sleep.

  “Lights off,” said Garlmek, and the lights lowered in response to his command. “Goodnight, dearest.”

  “Goodnight, dearest.”

  Chapter 27

  Sabotage

  On one hand, Northrup was elated. The fact that the Sapios would spend nights alone in the Penthouse meant that he could set his explosives to go off in the middle of the night, when none of the team would be present. And the fact that the creatures slept in the infirmary meant
that if he could slip his Bible into one of the medical kits, the chances of destroying both of them would be excellent.

  The most serious potential complication was the possibility that Dr. McCollum might bring it back up with her at the end of the day, but if she did, his radio control could deactivate the timer.

  On the other hand, his ambivalence continued to grow. He’d watched the initial interview with the creatures on a monitor in the office, and they seemed to be gentle, dignified beings. He had to remind himself repeatedly that what Reverend Wilder had told him was God’s will, and that it was his duty to carry out his mission.

  He stayed up late, and at just after 2:00 AM he slipped out of his room, watched from the shadows of the hallway for five minutes to make sure there was no one still up and about in the shed, and then crept around to the rear of the portable quarters to retrieve his shaving kit from its hiding place. Returning to his room, he took out the Bible that concealed the C-4.

  Identical to the real Bible he’d carried around the site, it was a large travel design, roughly ten by eight by two inches, with a leather cover that could be closed with a zipper. Unlike his reading Bible, the zipper on this one would only open when two points on the spine were pressed.

  Nervous that someone might knock on his door despite the late hour, he opened the cover, revealing the explosives and the timer/receiver. It could be set to detonate at any time within 24 hours, or controlled from a transmitter disguised as a pocket calculator. Since the radio signal couldn’t penetrate the walls of Town Hall, he would use the timer. With the clock currently showing 2:17 AM, he set it to detonate at 12:00 PM - midnight that night. He pressed the button on the transmitter that synchronized and set the receiver, and then closed and sealed the Bible. He returned the shaving kit, which still concealed his pistol and ammunition, to its hiding place, and then, after saying his prayers, went to bed. He slept fitfully, and his dreams were troubled. Even though Sandy Ruggiero would no longer be at risk, in his dreams, she still died in the explosion.

  He arose early the next morning and dressed quickly, hiding the explosive Bible in an inner pocket in his parka, and carrying the real one in his hand. After breakfast, he sat in the office with a cup of tea, staring at the pages of his reading Bible and turning them while waiting for Deirdre McCollum to come in. As most of the team came, ate and then left, he began to worry that either she’d already eaten, or that she’d decided to skip breakfast, but just as he was getting ready to panic, she came through the door.

  He waited until she finished breakfast, then watched her go to her office, which was off the main room. After a few minutes, she came out and stopped one of the grad students who was about to leave.

  “Greg, could you help me with this?”

  Before he could answer, Northrup was on his feet and crossing the room.

  “I can help you with that, Dr. McCollum. I don’t have anything assigned to me right now.”

  McCollum gave Northrup a slightly puzzled look, and then smiled.

  “Thank you, Eugene. That’s very kind of you.” She nodded to Greg Knappe, who shrugged and went on towards the exit.

  Following her into the office, he saw a portable medical cart, rather like the rolling tool chests mechanics use. It was about three feet tall, eighteen inches wide and a bit over a foot deep, with drawers opening at the front. It had casters, which would be useless on the ice surface inside the shed, and a handle on either side.

  “I can lift this if I have to,” said the doctor, “but carrying it any distance is a bit much for me.”

  “No problem, ma’am.” He stood waiting as she gathered up a few odds and ends, some of which she put into her black doctor’s bag, while others went into the cart. As she stowed various items, Northrup saw what appeared to be a space in the bottom drawer, where a box of surgical gloves was located, with enough space above it that the Bible could fit underneath it.

  He decided that he’d wait until she was ready to leave, let her get started, and then use the excuse of retrieving his real Bible from the table where he’d left it to create the opportunity to be alone for the few seconds it would take to plant the explosive Bible.

  Then he realized with horror that she was about to lock the cart. He feverishly tried to come up with another plan — and then God intervened.

  “Oh, darn,” said McCollum. “I think my digital recorder’s in my room. I’m gonna run across and get it. I’ll meet you at the elevator. Be careful carrying it — the drawers aren’t locked.”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  He went out into the main office and picked the real Bible up off the table, passing her on the way back to her office. He made a bit of a show of putting the real Bible in an inner pocket of his parka — the twin of the pocket on the other side.

  With a quick glance outside, he slipped the explosive Bible out of its pocket, quickly opened the bottom drawer, and placed it under the box of gloves. It fit perfectly, and was completely hidden.

  Closing the drawer, he picked up the cart from behind it, and carried it out, tilting it back to keep the drawers from sliding open. Arriving at the elevator, which was currently on its way up, he put the kit down and waited for the doctor. After only a minute or two she returned with her recorder, placed it in the top drawer, which she then closed, and pushed down the button that locked all of the drawers. The elevator having arrived, Northrup placed the kit on the floor for her, and then stepped back onto the platform that surrounded it.

  “Thank you, Eugene.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am,” he smiled.

  Fred Taylor watched from the window in the office door. He had seen the entire chain of events, but hadn’t noticed anything untoward. When the elevator started down and Northrup began walking towards his room, Taylor relaxed and returned to his coffee.

  Upon entering his room, Northrup decided to place a call to Reverend Wilder to report his successful placement of the explosives. It would be early evening at the Diamond Cathedral, but he was hoping that Wilder might still be in his office.

  He took his phone out of his footlocker, and pressed the auto dial button for Wilder’s office. After a single ring, a woman’s voice answered, “Hello.”

  Northrup thought he recognized Sheila Eakins’ voice, but she sounded upset. She had always answered with “Reverend Wilder’s office” when he’d called previously.

  “Miss Eakins, is that you? This is Eugene Northrup.”

  “Oh, Eugene,” she sobbed.

  •

  At 9:00 AM, the debriefing team assembled at the entrance to the Penthouse. It consisted of Reynolds, Mitchell, Hummford, Ruggiero, McCollum, Lightfoot and Behling. Lightfoot was there to provide security, and Behling had come hoping for a chance to discuss Sapiosaurian engineering with Garlmek.

  It occurred to Mitchell that they’d told the Sapios how long humans slept, but they hadn’t asked how long Sapios slept. She hoped that the team would find them awake.

  Her first order of business was to establish a schedule for the meetings with the Sapios with which both species would be comfortable.

  Lightfoot keyed in the combination, and the group entered the corridor. The walls came on as they did. At the far end, the inner door slid opened, and the group was treated to a number of surprises.

  “Oh my,” said Mitchell, which was seconded by exclamations from the others.

  They were accustomed to finding the main chamber dark except for a single work light, but it was now fully illuminated. The gantry that had been suspended over the suspension chambers was gone, evidently having retracted into the ceiling. The ceiling was what caught their immediate attention.

  Instead of the plain slightly warm glow they were used to, it was as if the ceiling itself had been retracted, revealing a blue sky with drifting clouds on a sunny day.

  The illusion covered the entire dome of the main chamber, down to the point where the walls became vertical, about eight feet off the floor.

  “It’s beautiful!” sa
id Mitchell.

  “The entire ceiling’s a view screen,” said Behling. “Incredible!”

  They were so astonished by what they were seeing that it wasn’t until Lightfoot glanced to his left that he saw one of the Sapios standing just outside the door to the pantry. He couldn’t tell which one it was. He cleared his throat, and the others followed his gaze.

  “Klauguou,” said Hummford.

  The Sapio took a few steps forward, then stopped and bowed his head.

  “Hello.”

  The word came out sounding almost Yiddish, with the “H” hard, as in “Hanukkah,” but there was no doubt what the creature had just said. Hummford’s eyes grew big.

  “How on Earth…” she said under her breath.

  “You spoke our… speech,” she said. She didn’t know the Sapio word for “language.”

  Garlmek nodded slightly. As it happened, the Noaud had no word for “language,” since they had only one. They were familiar with the concept of other languages, however, and in the Academy had discussed the potential difficulties of communication should beings from another planet ever arrive on Our Place.

  When he and Touolok had entered the library the previous day, and Hummford greeted him, he had listened to her translate what she’d said to them for Taylor’s benefit, and remembered that she’d done the same thing when they first awoke. The common sound she made at both times was “Hello,” which he guessed was the sound of their greeting. It now seemed that his guess was correct.

  “I listened as you converted our manner of speaking into your manner of speaking. Was I correct?”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “Communication will be much simpler if Touolok and I learn your manner of speaking.”

  As soon as Garlmek had started to explain, Hummford knew that it was he and not his wife talking. She had noted subtle differences between their voices in the few hours of the previous day’s debriefing.

  “Yes, it would make communication much easier.” On a hunch she added, “We are honored that you wish to do so.”