Yocto

by Timothy Jon Reynolds

  And then it hit him. He was now Mr. Tran’s pig. Something was wrong, and if he were an animal and his favorite human was just feet away, he would start dancing right now. An ice-cold chill ran up his face, through his hairline and made the top of his head mixed with sweat and ice.

  He started to half shuffle, half stumble over to the phone in a desperate attempt to at least sound the alarm. Just then Jack had his final epiphany that no one was going to be picking up the other end of the line. This wasn’t a war; it was an extermination of mankind. This planet no longer belonged to the humans. It all became so crystal clear in his last seconds.

  The aliens could have just killed us all along, as they weren’t removing our food chain as a method of war, they just wanted humankind to clean up their mess before they took it over. They essentially made humankind dig their own grave before shooting them and putting them in it. Jack started to lose the feeling in his legs, and then suddenly his heart stopped beating before he could make it to the phone.

  As he was falling to the floor, Jack Zarifis was the only person on Earth who happened to have the privilege to know what and who had killed him. His last microseconds were spent thinking about his family, and finally, he had a vision of himself and Christy together in a loving embrace in their favorite warm spring. And then, the lights went out.

  Jack and every single person on Earth were gone within a matter of minutes. Not one primate sub-species die off happened, but there were no evolutionist to see that. Not one person survived, even the crews inside the deepest submarines or people on the highest mountains.

  * * *

  President Walter Kessel took a stiff drink of whiskey and looked at his Vice President, “God help us, Sid.”

  Gary Salisbury replied instead of Sid Langston, “God help everyone.”

  Gary was drunk. Walter and Sid wanted to talk and they needed Gary out of the conversation, so they purposely got him to drink too much. They knew the weight of the day was hanging on the young man and it would not take much to get him to over imbibe. Gary had been a mess, and he was not adding any insight, so the two of them conspired without a word being spoken.

  Sid broke the new silence, “Do you think your new friends can be trusted?”

  Walter thought about it, “No, I do not, Sid. For some reason our two great nations can never stay on the same page for very long.”

  Right then they both glanced over and saw that Gary had pulled himself off the desk and seemed to have a look of unease on his face, like suddenly something was very wrong and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He was scared out of his mind.

  Seconds later, as all three men fell to the floor, each had a moment to postulate who or what had killed them. But not one of them arrived to the correct conclusion before their hearts seized up and they drew their last breaths.

  Epilogue

  The Armada of a hundred ships strong moved from around the dark side of the moon. The alien ships were powered by anti-gravity and therefore they used no fuel; they could literally travel until the end of time. The two beings in the lead ship were in control of all crafts. They had a hierarchy, but it was strictly predicated by age. Age was revered among them over all other things.

  Their species and society had developed over many millennia. Their abilities had advanced a hundred fold over their early days, as they’d learned techniques to ever increasingly expand the capacity of their minds. With their minds working at near full capacity, their science unleashed their true ability and they no longer had the need for verbal communication. Each of them had unique frequencies that the others could sense, so there was no longer a need for names.

  The second eldest noted to the eldest, “Do you see? It is this way on every planet we revisit. For some reason, even though we made them in our image and left the guidebooks, they always corrupt themselves and allow greed take over their societies.”

  The Makers didn’t have greed in their culture any longer, and they’d established the guidebooks for all the planets they terra-formed. The guidebooks were carefully made so they could not be misinterpreted. But this group did the same as all the others had done before them, they rewrote them, and in their revisions were the groundwork for greed and control.

  The Makers’ planet had evolved as well, as they too had an Atomic Age. Yet they did not war with each other and together they advanced to their Technological Age. As a people, they only looked to advance their bodies and environment, and most importantly, they never stopped striving for the Cosmos.

  Of course, conventions were lost along the way. There was no money in their society anymore, and their species had no name assigned to it, although they called their spawn Humankind. They were just part of the universe and no monikers were needed. Their only limitation seemed to be numbers, so they put forth the terra-forming plan throughout the Region of Growth.

  Their errant logic was in believing that if they laid a seed in their image, and left the guidebooks, then the societies their seed had spawned would weather their coming atomic age and prosper. That was the goal, but it had not happened so far, and unfortunately in some cases, they arrived at some planets too late. The horrors of humankind’s own anger against itself were much less humane than the way the Makers would have laid them to rest. It hurt them to their core to see a scorched planet and their sick and dying children everywhere.

  It saddened them to have to start over on something they’d created, but they had learned that once a colony had corrupted itself and killed each other in such a way, that they never lost the tendency as a whole, so the colony had to be started again. They all were warned not to defy the instructions given in the guidebooks.

  From the time they laid the seed until the time they returned was not measured by them the way the people of Earth measured time, as time did not exist for them. For them, they were tending a garden, and it was simply this colony’s turn to be harvested, or called a failure and uprooted to prepare for the next season—if that was what was needed.

  The eldest communicated to the next eldest, “Send down the absorption crafts, as well as The Energy control teams.” The elder paused, “This colony was the fastest we have seen yet to obtain The Energy and now we must clean up their misuse of the greatest gift we could have given them, The Energy of life itself.”

  * * *

  Karen and Anatoly looked at each other and were both thinking the same thing, that they were a bit hasty in the cutting off of all communications with Earth.

  The human species was able to accomplish so many amazing things. They were able to reach the highest precipice—like they had now—or they were able to sink to the lowest of lows, but the one thing they were not able to do was turn their back on the rest of their kind as a whole.

  And that was why Karen spoke up, “You know we can’t do it, we have to know what happened.”

  Anatoly responded, “We already know, that was not some war game, those were real weapons, and those are real and massive fires Karen. I am not ashamed to tell you that I am scared to see the news. We know they are all going to die, do we really need to know how?”

  Karen was crying. They were in the control module and both were still naked. She was sure that their flamboyant escapades in the face of oblivion were some kind of denial, and like all denial, once the glaze from the drugs you absorbed to be able to handle your problem had worn off, you were faced with the sober reality.

  Karen knew they were now in that reality stage, “I can’t explain why, but I do know that I need to know. I need to rubberneck this. I know that it’s morbid, but I have to know.” She saw his face and knew she had done it again, and she’d realized that no relationship was without its annoyances, “Rubberneck means slowing down to look at an accident where people most likely got hurt.”

  He replied, “I too feel the need to rubberneck, as you say it, but is it really in our best interest, my Love?”

  Karen capitulated, because to stay true to her own vow, she would not argue with her man, �
��As you wish, Dear, I can change my mind, especially if you feel strongly about it.”

  Anatoly was fence walking, but his human nature also got the best of him and they rebooted their communications equipment.

  The silence was deafening. They could not reach NASA, Kazakhstan, or any of the other agencies they should have been able to reach. Finally, Anatoly called his home using their ground line . . . nothing. They tried broadcasts, and what they found out was that no live broadcasts were being sent out. The only place a human voice could be found was in a recording.

  It made no sense, there were not enough explosions to have led to the end of civilization and both knew that the electromagnetic impulses of the atomic explosions would have disrupted all the signals.

  They needed a visual, so sans their clothing—although somehow right now they felt like they should have them on—they went to Cupola to try to see if a visual existed for the situation, but both of them feared the worst—that mankind had been wiped out in a die-off.

  The questions were zooming about for both of them when Karen blurted, “But the rabbits died up here?”

  And like if Anatoly had been in a conversation with her, he’d answered, “I know, it makes no sense.”

  It also meant that there was absolutely no chance of anyone ever coming to rescue them. This was really it; they would die in Space. They entered Cupola together, naked bodies looking up in unison at the impossible now looming all around them.

  * * *

  They looked out of their control room window and could see the ISS in the distance and sadness appeared on the elders face. They had made the trip from the Earth’s moon in less than ten of Earth’s minutes and now they were passing what could have been humankind’s future—a space station. A space station was a great scientific accomplishment and it was a stepping-stone on their path to eternal enlightenment with their Makers. The only problem now was that it meant nothing, as the beings that built it were now gone. It was a problem they would have to solve, for it appeared that whatever good humankind did with its right hand, they wiped it all out with their left.

  Although the Makers had evolved to a higher status mind-wise, humankind was made in their image, and their image had not changed much, and thus, the elder’s sadness was evident. It was the only remaining remnant of a past where they used their bodies for communication. They now had slightly larger craniums with no hair whatsoever on their bodies, and their fingers were more slender and elongated, yet the face muscles were still there and melancholy was an emotion that was still tied to them; that and joy.

  The elder communicated again, “Now that we have their excessive food sources removed, we can restore the planet’s eco-system, but only after removing all The Energy waste material from the their planet. It’s too bad they didn’t figure out the rest of their Energy possibilities, especially their waste solutions. But as we’ve seen time and time again, the minute humankind started building weapons, they all became obsessed with domination, and ultimately their own destruction would come as the result.”

  The second eldest had understanding as to why there was a forlorn look on the elders face, for when one had offspring, then one could only see them as special, and when one’s offspring kept acting badly, it hurt from deep inside. What made it even sadder was the knowledge that these offspring would never be able to evolve enough to see their Creators. And that was the ultimate goal; that they would encounter other enlightened beings that they had spawned and then their race would propagate.

  But for greed and controls sake, their message kept getting corrupted on every colony. First and foremost, their society was based around science, and the original guidebooks they’d left had instructed humankind to follow that doctrine and always pursue science and advancement over all other paths. They’d specifically warned humankind against following any false Gods. All of these colonies mutated their original message, making their Makers omnipresent, vindictive, and worse—that one had to die to reach their God, therefore slowing their progress toward accomplishing the true word of their Makers.

  Somehow, all of the colonies had made the same turn and changed the message inside the guidebooks, and by doing so had manipulated Their word into something that benefited the greedy and power hungry. They chose to try to control rather than relay the true message that humankind was to always be striving to reach for their Makers over all other things.

  They were to reach for the stars, as one people to meet the Gods that created them—not worship from afar. The Makers could not simply provide their power of eternal life, as their society had evolved into eternal life through their science. Unfortunately for humankind, their Makers could not just hand it out as a gift. It was an evolution of several millennia and it had to be done through total inner-planetary cooperation.

  Currently, their race were spread throughout the Galaxy, each converting their own Region of Growth, each trying new ways to make one colony of humankind that could join them in the Cosmos. They would keep trying no matter what, as they had all of eternity to work it out, and sooner or later, one of the human spawn they seeded would make it past their respective Atomic Age. Eventually, the right configuration of variables would allow it. It had to, as hope was something that was not lost on their species. It was with that hope that they were now attempting to recreate the success of their planet here, in the region of growth.

  Even though they had started to exterminate humankind on this planet through the animal die-offs, they had still given the Earth’s humankind one last chance, and all they had to do was work their way out of the animal die-offs without making war with each other; then they would have been spared. Unfortunately, they chose the wrong path.

  Their ship was the only manned vessel in the armada, the rest were automated, and those went to work down on the Earth. The horizon showing re-entry, after re-entry as the repair and recover ships made their way to the quiet planet below.

  These first humankind had made their mark, but they were here for only a blip of time on the Earth’s scale. Their buildings would succumb and their monuments would fall, taken back by nature. Then, out of the depths of the Earth’s furthest regions, humankind would get another chance to start again.

  Their ship pulled even with the Earth’s space station and they spotted the two incredulous beings craning their heads around inside the domed porthole. The spared beings had just witnessed their Makers’ Armada enter the Earth’s atmosphere and were no doubt very scared of what was coming next.

  Using telepathy, the second eldest called the transport vessel in and the maw of the craft easily enveloped the ISS and all aboard. Then, before they knew it, Karen and Anatoly were back on Earth. They did not see or feel the re-entry process at all, but they did notice the change in their atmosphere and gravity.

  The eldest communicated, “We will clear their minds of unnecessary things and use them to help start the new terra-form, along with the others we selected to spare. I wanted to spare two of their scientist all along, so this was good that they made it easy for us. I would think statistically that they would be the two luckiest people that had ever lived on their planet.”

  The second eldest provoked, “Yes, and just like before, two elders to lead the way, the rest will be community.”

  The eldest gave the final thought, “Yes, but this time we will leave an automated watcher, one with all our powers, just enforced remotely. It will ensure that our word is followed, and when they reach the era where they obtain The Energy, it will ensure that no one will be building any weapons that can erase their society as a whole. Once they clear that obstacle of mistrust and murder, then they will join us in the Cosmos in just a few short millennia.”

  When he was thinking of his new offspring, it was noted that the eldest lost the sadness previously shown on his face. He had a new expression now and it was tied to the hope that one day these children would be able to join their parents and restart a race that had lost their ability to reproduce.

  Th
ey hadn’t started this quest out of wanderlust; they’d started it because the females of their species were not reproducing any longer. Unless they could bring new children home, they would become an ancient race of beings that would never see change, and many feared doomed to stagnation. Worse, against all their accomplishments and timelessness, they had now begun to feel unfulfilled, as insignificant as the lowest life form.

  The eldest looked to this Earth longingly. For some reason, there were only a few planets that he held a special hope for, yet did not know why, and this planet was one of them. He truly hoped this Earth learned how to survive its coming trials and tribulations, as they were needed home now more than ever. Hopefully they would heed the message this time and try not to kill each other (especially killing in their Makers’ name), and finally reach their potential, their unlimited potential . . .

  About the Author

  Timothy Jon Reynolds formerly worked as a criminal investigator for the Dayton Hudson Corporation. In his tenure there, he literally oversaw hundreds of criminal cases of almost every nature. It was there that he started writing in his mind—even if he didn't know it at the time. After leaving that career for a safer one, he began working as a manager in the biomedical industry, eventually moving on to owning his own company. Nowadays he travels the northwest as a Sales Manager for the company that bought his, taking in and absorbing the places and people he visits and meets. All as fuel for his stories. His feeling is that writers, "need fresh faces and stories around them constantly, otherwise they will stagnate and the writing will suffer." When he is not traveling, Tim enjoys being a Northern Nevada resident with his wife and children, complete with all the civil liberties that great state provides.