The Imperative Chronicles, Books One and Two: The Mars Imperative & The Tesserene Imperative

by Mark Terence Chapman

  I took a deep breath before continuing. “Or so the Hruk thought.”

  “Swede, you’re not making sense!” Guido’s expression showed worry.

  Cap held up a placating palm. “Let him speak.”

  “You see, the Progenitors wanted to leave a part of themselves behind to pick up where they left off, once the threat of the Hruk was over. The Progenitors thought on a time scale far beyond anything we can imagine. To them, planning a billion years ahead was not unusual. That’s why many of their devices operate even now.

  “As they fled the galaxy, they stopped at a number of unpopulated planets as far from the Hruk sphere of influence as possible: planets with the right gravity, the right atmospheric conditions, and early forms of life—single-celled organisms. They dropped off teams of volunteers with makeshift laboratories—volunteers who knew it was a death sentence once their supplies ran out. The teams implanted genetic material in a number of the indigenous organisms. Then, to be sure the organisms would evolve as planned, the Progenitors set up some of their magnificent machinery to periodically manipulate the genes of the life that evolved.

  “The other Progenitors continued their flight out of the galaxy. According to historical records in the portal computer, the Hruk caught up to the fleeing ships far outside our galaxy. A horrific battle ensued, and the Hruk wiped out the Progenitor fleet.

  “Eventually the volunteers left behind died and the Progenitors ceased to exist.

  “Over the next nearly two billion years, those simple genetically modified organisms evolved into countless species of invertebrate and then vertebrate life. Species evolved and branched off and some branches died out, but the evolution continued. Eventually sentient life resulted on one of the planets.” I paused for a beat.

  “The Progenitors are back.”

  “Holy shit! Where? Which planet is it?” Guido asked, frowning.

  “The pretty little blue one in the Sol system.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “WHAT? Come on—be serious,” Guido demanded. “What are you saying? That we’re the Progenitors? That’s ridiculous!”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “But…but…,” Sparks sputtered. “How? They were billions of years ahead of us.”

  “Exactly,” I replied. “Genetically, biologically, we are the Progenitors, but a few million years behind where they were when they fled the galaxy. Of course, when they left they also had hundreds of millions of years of cultural and scientific development that we don’t have yet. But we will eventually, if we survive that long. In fact, between this console—plus several others like it scattered around the galaxy—and the portal computer, we can eventually learn everything the Progenitors knew.”

  “But, why hasn’t anyone else ever discovered this?” Sparks’ forehead was furrowed in puzzlement. “Surely Drelx would have known we’re the Progenitors if anyone did.”

  “The Progenitors understood the risk and planned for it. Why do you think they erased all descriptions of themselves from the portal computer? I’m sure they expected that some races wouldn’t want the Progenitors to return and might have wanted to wipe us out ages ago, before we could develop starflight, or even sentience.”

  Sparks nodded in thought.

  I continued. “Besides, only someone with the correct genetic markers could activate this console. Apparently, some of the other races, such as the Krewl-tí, had genes similar enough that they could sense some of what this console is capable of, without being able to use it. The Progenitors made sure not to leave any records of their genetic structure for others to find, so there was no way for anyone to compare.”

  “If only Progenitors—humans—can activate the console, how come you were able to do it and Sparks and Guido weren’t?”

  “I guess that just proves they’re not quite human,” Tom joked.

  Cap snorted.

  “Actually, Sparks was correct,” I replied. “To use the console, a human has to be of a certain minimum size, to prevent children from using it. Over the course of their evolution, perhaps due to the lower gravity on Stripi, the Progenitors grew a bit larger on average than humans are today. I’m the tallest one in the crew and I just barely qualified as large enough. Theoretically, all humans of a certain size should be able to use the Seat.”

  “Does this mean you now know everything the Progenitors knew?” Guido asked, a bit tentatively.

  I snorted. “I wish! My brain capacity isn’t any greater than before. I couldn’t download the database into my brain if I wanted to. I merely know how to browse through the storehouse of knowledge they left us to find the answers I need. Though with the direct mental interface, I do seem to be able to instantly absorb and understand much of what I find. I’m an engineer, after all, not a theoretical physicist or a molecular biologist. So there are limits to what I understand. Still, the neural interface is a huge advantage over typical computer interfaces.”

  “So now what?” Cap asked.

  “Well, I know what we aren’t going to do,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “We aren’t going to tell anyone back home.”

  “What?” Tom shouted. “Are you insane? How can we not tell everyone? This kind of knowledge could save mankind from all the problems that are slowly killing us—overpopulation, pollution, disease.”

  “If we don’t destroy ourselves first,” I countered. “Think about it. The first thing that’ll happen after we tell the Company what we’ve found is they’ll try to claim it for themselves. SI may be a great company to work for, but the board of directors is still made up of people, with human frailties. They’ll want to control what we’ve found for the benefit of the Company—if not themselves. That means limiting what’s made public.

  “Even if that doesn’t happen—say we go public instead—the Republic of Europe will try to claim it. After all, the Company is incorporated in the ROE. If that happens, do you think the North American Federation wouldn’t object, or the United States of Africa, or the Asian Alliance? We could destabilize the shaky balance of power overnight. It might even lead to war. What if the human race wipes itself out before we have the chance to do more than take these few baby steps among the stars? If we’re actually the reincarnation of the Progenitors, consider our potential. Imagine what we could accomplish over the next thousand years, or the next million, with the knowledge of the ages at our fingertips. Okay, maybe that sounds corny, but think it through.”

  “I hate to admit it, Cap,” Tom said after a moment, “but I think he’s right.” He turned to me. “But, how can we just sit on this? The Earth needs this knowledge.”

  “I honestly don’t know. We couldn’t exactly let it out a bit at a time. Somebody would want to know where we got the knowledge and the feline would escape from the sack pretty quickly.”

  “Look guys,” Guido suggested, “we don’t need to decide anything right now. We’ve got a three-hour hike ahead of us back to Shamu, and we could all use a hot meal and a shower. I recommend we table any decisions for now. It’ll give us all a chance to think about it some more.”

  “Seconded!” Cap declared. “If you’re up to it, Swede, let’s get out of here.”

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t had anything to eat in two days. Right now I could eat Shamu, hull plating and all.”

  “We’ve still got some of the emergency rations we brought along,” Sparks responded, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.”

  “No thanks.” I gave him a mock grimace and an exaggerated shudder. “I think I’d rather eat the hull plating. I guess I can wait ‘til we get back to the ship for some real food.”

  Cap smiled. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here.”

  We retrieved our suits and used our helmet lights to find our way back in the dark. It wouldn’t do to stumble and fall into the canyon after everything we’d been through.

  * * * *

  The next morning, over a hearty breakfast, we decided that as lon
g as we were “out there” we might as well do some more exploring. Perhaps the smart thing would have been to return home and let someone else take the risks. Hey, I never said we were smart. We were like school kids who had found a real, live, pirate’s treasure map. Who could resist an adventure like that?

  As Guido put it, “We may never get another chance to see the big wide galaxy once we go home. We owe it to ourselves to take another look around.”

  “I wouldn’t mind taking a look at one of those floating cities,” Sparks suggested. “What was the name of that planet, again?”

  “Celentis,” I supplied.

  “Yeah, Celentis. Anyone else interested?”

  After a round of yeahs we set off for the dome on P5M2 and Grand Central Terminal. This time, after determining—via the portal computer—that the atmosphere was breathable on Celentis, we decided to leave our suits in the hub.

  * * * *

  “Computer, show us the portal to Celentis,” Cap ordered. A purple oval appeared and we departed the crystal cathedral for the next stop on our voyage. As I stepped through I nearly ran into Cap, who was staring at someone who wasn’t one of us. In fact, there were two of them. The aliens were roughly humanoid in appearance, with two arms, two legs, a torso and a head with two eyes a nose and a mouth, but that’s where the resemblance ended.

  They were at least two meters tall, with leathery, slate-gray skin and bumps and ridges on their hairless heads, hands and feet—the only visible parts that weren’t covered by a loose one-piece garment. The general impression was that of an alligator or crocodile, although they had no visible tails, and rather abbreviated snouts. Their skin color nearly matched that of the marble-like material of the hub. To my human eyes, they initially looked enough alike to be brothers—or perhaps sisters. But after a few seconds, I noticed subtle differences in the patterns of bumps.

  “Hello,” I called out. “Vbegirf.” echoed from the disembodied voice of the portal computer.

  “Hey! Instantaneous translation!” Guido gushed.

  “Xgartmolg mglem?” the alien asked. “Who are you?” came back in Universal.

  “Hmm. What’s the first-contact protocol for bumping into an alien in a portal hub?” Sparks asked with a smirk.

  “I don’t know,” Cap said, “but I think they’re expecting an answer.”

  “We’re travelers, like you,” our communications officer replied loudly for the computer. “Vughwrs molg berdmsar xerfaw” was the translation.

  “You are not like us. We are Stromvik. What are you?”

  “We are called Humans.”

  “Where are hoo-menzz from?”

  “We’re from a planet called Earth. How about you?” Sparks continued.

  We heard “Grelp,” but the translation came out Earth.

  Sparks frowned. “Are they repeating what I said? How can they be saying they’re from Earth? Is the translator working correctly?”

  “Don’t forget that ‘earth’ refers to the soil we walk on,” Tom pointed out. “Maybe it’s a common name for home worlds all over the galaxy.”

  While we were discussing planetary naming conventions among ourselves, the Stromvik were likewise conversing. At one point I heard bark-like grunts that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and the aliens revealed rows of razor-sharp teeth that only reinforced the crocodilian impression. And somehow I doubted that the three-centimeter-long claws on each hand were intended for picking their teeth.

  The way they looked at us, I had the feeling that we were the targets of their laughter. If so, I had no idea why. Was it the way we looked? True, we were a good thirty to forty centimeters shorter than they were, and less stocky. Compared to the Stromvik, we were positively spindly. Was it our skin? Sparks and I are as pale as they come, but Cap was darker than the aliens, due to his African ancestry. Maybe it was Tom’s carrot top, or our lack of bumps and ridges. Whatever it was, the laughter didn’t sound friendly. The looks the Stromvik gave us were equally unpleasant.

  “Guys,” I said under my breath, “I think they’re mocking us.” That brought a halt to the discussion on our end. Indeed, one of the Stromvik appeared to be mimicking Guido’s hand-waving as he spoke.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Guido spat out. The Stromvik’s eyes narrowed, with what seemed to be calculation. “Maybe we should teach them to be more polite. We outnumber them five to two.” He started in the direction of the Stromvik, four meters away.

  “Hold up, Guido,” Sparks said, grabbing Guido’s arm. “If you take a good look at them, you’ll notice that they each outmass us by at least two to one, and we’re unarmed. I don’t know if they’re carrying any concealed weapons, but have you seen those teeth and claws? Besides, we don’t want to start a war with a race we don’t even know.

  “We do not like you,” the second Stromvik said. “You chatter like filprak. You stink like filprak. Your presence is offensive. Do not approach us again—you have been warned!” The first Stromvik barked again.

  Guido bridled. “Stink? That son-of-a—! Are we going to let them get away with that?”

  Before we could react, Stromvik number two called out “Spomkl grumdk!” The computer didn’t translate, but it opened a pink portal near the two aliens. Without another word, they stepped through.

  “That could have gone better,” Cap declared.

  “No kidding. Those were two thoroughly unpleasant characters,” Tom’s said with a sour look. “Let’s hope their entire race isn’t like that. It wouldn’t be much fun to run into a planet full of those guys.”

  I chimed in. “I guess that proves not all aliens are as friendly as Drelx. I wonder what filprak smell like?”

  “Us, apparently.” Guido still seethed.

  “We don’t really smell that bad. Do we?” Tom raised an arm and sniffed.

  “What the hell was that all about? What set them off?” I asked.

  Cap shrugged. “Who can tell? They’re aliens. We can’t expect them to think or act like us.”

  “So now what do we do?” Sparks asked.

  “I guess we keep going as planned,” Cap decided. “Computer, which way to Celentis?”

  The computer lit what appeared to be the same portal through which the Stromvik had just exited. We looked at each other in surprise.

  “Uh-oh, that can’t be good,” was my brilliant assessment.

  “But I didn’t hear them mention Celentis,” Sparks pointed out.

  “Perhaps they have a different name for it,” Tom suggested.

  Cap looked at us one by one. “Do we call it off, or shall we proceed?”

  “I say to hell with them!” was Guido’s unsurprising reaction. “We can’t let them determine our itinerary.”

  “I agree,” I said. “If they don’t like us, screw ‘em. Celentis is a big planet. It’s unlikely we’ll run into them anyway,” The latter came out with more conviction than I felt. Tom and Sparks nodded their agreement.

  Then I reconsidered my rash words. “On the other hand, let’s not be foolhardy. Maybe we should wait a few minutes to give them a chance to clear the terminal before we appear.”

  “Good idea,” Cap said. He set his wrist chrono for a five-minute countdown. When it chirped, Cap said, “Right, then. Let’s go!” We all stepped through the portal.

  * * * *

  We emerged on the surface of Celentis. Well, maybe “surface” is misleading. The terminal platform appeared to be on a small patch of grass-like groundcover, open to the sky. It took only a few steps to walk to the edge of the platform and determine that we were at least three kilometers off the ground, surrounded by the usual transparent wall. Below us, several streams fed a large lake. Clouds floated both above and below us, and a yellow sun shone down with comfortable warmth.

  To all appearances, this could have been Earth, except for two major differences: First, there was no sign of the teeming cities that covered much of the Earth’s surface. The landscape below us was pristine, unsullied by the depredations of mankind.
Second, the last time I checked, there were no cities floating above the ground back home. True, Earth has “floating” cities of her own, but those are parked in geosynchronous orbit high above the equator in the vacuum of space, not down among the clouds.

  Behind us, the terminal was connected to the side of a building festooned with soaring towers, gossamer arches, cantilevered rooms overhanging nothingness, and other architectural features clearly designed to emphasize the feelings of airiness and floating. Similar buildings extended off into the distance. They presented a fairyland of pastel colors, from lemon to violet to peach. Somehow they seemed almost edible, like the gingerbread houses of fable.

  We located the white portal and stepped through it into the next building.

  It was something of a disappointment after the exterior view. Except for the transparent walls looking out at the sky, there was nothing special about the place. It almost could have been a lobby in any of hundreds of buildings on Earth, minus any trace of furniture or ornamentation: it was yet another big open space with bare walls and floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “This is it?” Guido asked with disgust. “The fabled sky cities of Celentis? What’s the big deal?”

  “Maybe we should have asked the computer where to go to see something spectacular,” I suggested.

  “Good idea,” Cap confirmed. “Let’s go back to the terminal and ask.”

  We turned around and stepped back through the white portal into the terminal.

  “Computer,” Cap asked, “what is there of interest to do or see here?”

  “This city was famed for its amusement park in the center of the city.”

  “An amusement park? You’re kidding!” Tom exclaimed in surprise.

  “This I’ve got to see!” Cap marveled. “A Progenitors’ amusement park.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I chipped in. “Anyone else?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Sparks said, “that ought to be…amusing.”