Mineran Influence

by PN Burrows

  ‘What has Reb told you about the Dia Kuklos and how they were formed?’

  ‘Not much, only that a catastrophic occurrence caused them.’

  ‘Well, that’s certainly an understatement. There are approximately 300 known to exist, primarily they are clustered in close proximity. Usually they have been formed due to great battles using forces of such magnitude as to distort the fabric of space. Has Reb mentioned the Overseer?’ Upon seeing Sam’s nod he proceeded. ‘Three-quarters of those occurred prior to the Overseer’s appearance, their creation lost in the annals of time. More than likely because there were no victors. All bar fourteen occurred during the great wars that brought forth the wrath of the Overseer.’

  Struggling for breath as the ring went through a phase of extreme muscle burning contractions, ‘Fourteen, is it a coincidence that Earth has fourteen Dia Kuklos?’

  ‘No. Earth has been through two major climate changing apocalyptic populace extinctive wars in the past. You are not the original inhabitants, Sam. You are a very distant relative.’

  ‘Ok,’ sceptically looking at the doctor, ‘so what happened? Who were we, they, at war with?’

  ‘Ah, this, I think, is the part Reb would have liked to have been here to explain. I do carry the race memory of our part in this unfortunate occurrence, albeit small.’ Noticing Sam had stopped, he gestured for him to continue.

  ‘Firstly, you have to understand that your planet is much older than your scientists believe. At least twice as old. Eight million years ago the race of beings that populated your planet were a barbaric, fearsome race. For me to say this, it should give you an indication of how bad they really were. No one could figure out how they suddenly became a spacefaring race in such a short period of time. They made giant leaps in technology that they clearly didn’t comprehend. The destruction they caused to their, your, planet was catastrophic in itself. They poured from system to system in ships that beggared belief. They were so badly constructed that no one knew how the crews could survive in them. They waged war after war, decimating systems. Not for the profits or accumulation of land, but just barbaric slaughter. Documents recovered from destroyed ships showed studies of various and escalating genocide techniques. The scale of the weapons used became larger and larger until one day they actually destroyed a heavily populated planet. The ISPAW were slow to act, thinking the Overseer would step in. When he spoke, his message was clear, work together to resolve this. We had to police within our ISPAW borders ourselves. He would only intervene if a member’s system went to war with each other, or as our sphere of influence expanded outwards across the universe, we faced an external opponent whose technology was beyond ours or whom would cause catastrophic loss of life. Two members’ system of Council thought this meant the Overseer had lost power over the millennia and took advantage to seize neighbouring planets and systems. They were dealt with swiftly and they did not have clean deaths. It was as if their planets were nudged, their orbits quickly decayed around their suns and they burnt up. All military or parliamentary craft and installations that were off-world were also destroyed. The few thousand inhabitants that lived elsewhere were doomed to roam the universe never having a true home. They are still a living reminder of angering the Overseer. Sorry, I digress, history is a passion of mine – my species lives so long that we remember a lot of it personally. The ISPAW went to war. Over the course of weeks your ancestors were driven back to their home planet. There they fought valiantly in a war they could not win. With their last dying breath they overloaded the fourteen prototype singularity drives that they had secretly been working on, hoping to take the planet and ISPAW fleet with them. Your planet was decimated, the explosions went inward, distorting the fabric of space and killing 99% of life on your planet. The ISPAW withdrew and the planet was deemed uninhabitable.’

  Sam was silent now, still working away, not quite knowing what to make of Earth history.

  ‘Three billion years later another race sprang up. History repeated itself, a hoard of technological advanced savages swept across the universe with no discernible pattern. They swooped into systems like pirates, randomly, and caused incalculable damage and loss of life. One of their ships was damaged in a brief fight and the crew taken alive. Like their predecessors, they could create and make use of technological advances but without fully understanding it. It was, at first, assumed that an outside influence was orchestrating them for nefarious gain. We were half right, evolution on your planet had twice designed a brain system that worked on a frequency so close to our long distance communication systems that over time, unconsciously, they learnt everything. Their only downfall was the fact that they were an immature race with little or no concept of strategy that allowed us to prevail; they were that strong. Eventually they too were pushed back to their home planet. They had developed shields of such magnitude that our orbital bombardments were futile. The ISPAW could see they were designing and creating newer hybrid ships with the mixed technologies from many of the races. A drastic plan was formulated, one which we hope never to re-enact. The larger of your two moons was destroyed, the resulting gravitation forces pulled your planet’s crust apart, the shields died in the chaos of earthquakes and an orbit bombardment commenced. Your planet was left a glowing cinder so as not to allow this to happen again.’

  The doctor steadied the ring and offered a chitin hand to assist Sam to climb down. ‘Stretch and cool down exercise, ten minutes to rehydrate and then we hit the viscous pool.’

  ‘Then we appeared,’ Sam said, rather subdued. The initial anger had dissipated.

  ‘Yes, it was a conundrum, 3.5 million years ago the ISPAW could see single cell life forming on your planet and they were not up to commit planet-wide genocide again, even on amoebas. A series of satellites were set up to enclose your solar system and block out the communication frequencies. It was hoped that you would evolve normally.’

  ‘Where do the Minerans come into this? Reb said they had been here from the beginning.’

  ‘Well, for your beginning they were. Shortly after the first war, the Universe Police formed at the Overseers behest. In between that and the first amoeba forming on your planet, the Minerans had a little run-in with the Overseer. Eventually they were enlisted and sent to police Dia Kuklos around the universe. They’re actually a specialised subset of the universe Police, it’s a multispecies agency. The Minerans’ history is a highly guarded secret, as much as the Dia Kuklos themselves. They are, as a race, ashamed of their ancestral history. That’s why they were so upset seeing the Spica Sagitta in your back.’

  Sam continued to exercise that day, with the doctor providing him with fluids that were so nourishing he never realised that he didn’t actually eat anything. After the viscous pool, there were gravity-enhanced endurance exercises, which were then followed by so many other tortuous regimes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Collapsing on the hospital bed, Sam lay there exhausted. He had given it everything he had got, and whatever the Doctor had been giving him in the drinks was a body builder’s dream elixir. He dreaded to think what he was like under the BEE suit. He could only imagine that he was rank with sweat, thankfully it sealed in the stench.

  ‘Well done, Sam, a marvellous effort. We need to get you out of the BEE, freshened up and massaged to loosen up those newly developed muscles.’

  Sam looked at the doctors hands. ‘Massage?’ he enquired.

  Clicking the harsh-looking fingers together the doctor replied. ‘We have a physiotherapist here on the station, Sam. I find the staff here prefer him for some reason.’ A wicked, tooth-riddled grin spread across his face.

  Sam tried to pry apart the suit. He found it difficult to even dig his fingers beneath the collar. Try as he might, the invisible seam would not open.

  ‘There’s a sensor in the arm which informs your partner you wish to communicate. He or she has been listening in of course, but etiquette requires you
inform him or her that you wish to correspond. It’s not necessary to put your finger in your ear, but you have to at least press firmly just in front. The vibrations are sent up your arm and through your finger to produce sound as it hits your eardrum – a silent means of conversing. The suit can manage it without your finger if an important message needs to be conveyed, Reb says, and I quote, ‘It’s a bloody horrible feeling’.

  Sam inserted his right index finger into his ear. ‘Er, hello.’

  ‘Hello, Sam,’ a gender neutral voice replied

  He looked futilely at the doctor for guidance. A rotating hand movement either meant carry on or he was indicating that he wanted to eviscerate Sam’s organs with his sharp, crab-like talons.

  ‘Hi, how do I remove the suit?’

  ‘We don’t recommend you remove the BEE suit Sam. This would leave you vulnerable. Without your body armour you are at an increased risk of sustaining damage.’

  ‘I think I’m safe enough for now, please can you tell me how to remove the suit?’ At that the BEE suit peeled from Sam’s chest in two halves. Glad to be free, he rapidly removed his arms. God, he looked pumped. Not the full-on bodybuilder look but definitely buff. He couldn’t make out what was missing for a second, then he looked at his chest. Only half had been shaved by the doctor but now it was a smooth as a baby’s bottom. ‘What the –’ he exclaimed, quickly removing the lower part of the garment, displaying a smooth, hairless torso and limbs. He looked in alarm at the doctor and back at himself. ‘It ate my hair! It’s eaten my fucking hair! What? Why?’

  ‘Apate moaned about that too the first time, she still refuses to wear the hood even after all these years. She now admits that she rather enjoys the extra smooth, silky feel of her skin now. She says it gives her a nice glow. Unlike you she only gets to wear hers on away missions when she’s acting as back up for Reb.’ Seeing this was not dissipating Sam’s annoyance, ‘The suit has to be in direct contact with the skin in order for it to protect you, Sam. It simply absorbs the hairs and top epidermal layer. It’s not eating you.’

  After a few days of tweaking the medication and rigorous exercise, the doctor examined the results from the last medical scan of Sam. He could not believe that one life form could have housed so many parasitic diseases, viruses, bacteria and deadly pathogens. Before he could start Sam’s reconstruction and rehabilitation he’d had to purge him of these potentially harmful threats. If ever the doctor needed a test subject for incubation, he knew where to look in the future. These humans, as they called themselves, bred like vermin and were as filthy as. The strangest thing was that having spent time with Sam, he’d grown to actually like him. He’d kept samples of Sam’s infected blood, knowing that when Sam returned to Earth on active duty he would have to be re-infected. The whole idea of having a human on the team was to have someone who could investigate on the ground and blend in because he was a native. Most off-world antagonists would class him as a clueless native, although their automated scans might pick up on the anomalous fact that his blood and tissue were medically pristine. The doctor made a mental note that he should also perform a similar cleansing process to remove any off-world germs or antibodies from Sam as well as replace the earthbound ones back. He found it strange that this lateral thinking was not natural to him. The process of thinking out of the box was rubbing off from Sam. He could see why Erebus liked humans. They were inquisitive, imaginative and often random in their actions. These features were surprisingly rare amongst the other races.

  ‘I can clear you for duty Sam – but if you agree to sign up? I must warn you that you will most likely spend a minimum of a year away for training and it will be far more rigorous than what we have done in the last few days. You will also have to become familiar with the standard, and to some extent, the non-standard equipment used throughout the Universe. You will be required to learn the characteristics of each race and their technology. Apparently one of your redeeming factors was the solitary and nomadic life you have lived for the past few years. You will not really be missed while you are away training.’

  ‘A year’s not too bad, it sounds like there is a lot to see.’

  ‘Ah, that’s an ISPAW year.’ The doctor quickly used a tablet computer he withdrew from his pocket. ‘It equates to approximately 3.8 Earth years.’ Seeing the puzzled look on Sam’s face he continued. ‘Most planets base their chronological system on the daily rotation of their planet and their annual orbit around their sun. In a multi-system society such as ours that becomes problematic. The ISPAW calculated the average year by using a 10% trimmed average of known planets inhabited by intelligent life forms within the original ISPAW sphere. This became the ISPAW Standard Year.’

  Sam later learned that the ISPAW defines a year as 327 x 37 hours days, with 100 seconds per minute and 100 minutes per hour or 120990000 seconds per year. Any time reference in documents had to contain a local planet time reference and the ISPAW equivalent. The Minerans had been instructed to introduce the concept of standardised seconds, minutes and hours to Earth a long time ago. Due to the Earth’s rotation and small orbit of the sun they only managed to encourage the adoption of a standard second, which humans later defined as the amount of time a cesium-133 atom to perform 9,192,631,770 complete oscillations.

  Reb and Captain Sophus arrived shortly after the doctor had removed Sam’s breakfast tray.

  ‘Is he fit for duty, Doc?’ The captain enquired, ‘We have a development in the investigation that we think Sam should be part of.’

  ‘Sam has made an excellent recovery, his strength is up threefold in truth. He hasn’t even noticed that the gravity is at Mineran norm.’ He looked at Sam with a shark-like smile. ‘Although I must report that I have recently become aware that by my standards he’s practically blind.’ Everyone turned to Sam and then back to the doctor for clarification. ‘He has an even more limited view of the light spectrum than you do, Captain, and I consider you to be a partially blind species.’

  He walked across to Sam and gently laid his crustaceous hand on Sam’s head. ‘Sam, please describe the room.’

  Looking somewhat confused ‘It’s a normal hospital room, a little drab and colourless, but no different from a hundred others I’ve been in.’ He replied.

  ‘Sam, the walls and cupboard doors are covered in your medical readouts and charts,’ pointing to the door behind Sam, ‘that one is showing oxygen ration and performance of your lungs in real time.’

  Sam’s head swivelled round, he clearly looked at several cupboards hoping to see something.

  ‘It appears, Captain, that humans can only see from red to violet. I suspected something was wrong when Sam repeatedly ignored the exercise equipment’s instructions. As you know, most of your data projections and information technology utilises the ultraviolet frequency.’

  Looking again at Sam, Reb requested ‘Describe the triptych that you saw on Urser’s arm.’

  ‘It was scar tissue, almost making the shape of a triangle’

  ‘There’s a colour code on the segments to indicate the severity of the crime,’ he commented. ‘The 3D hologram in the communications room, you didn’t see the bio overlay for reach person or chemical analysis on pertinent items?’ It was more of a statement than a question.

  ‘No,’ he said with uncertainty in his voice. ‘It was just a 3D video.’

  ‘He can’t be left on his own on the station. He’ll bloody well walk right out of an air lock,’ the captain said in amazement. ‘Doc, we don’t have time to sort this out now, if you can rectify this it’ll have to wait,’ looking at Sam, ‘get suited up, Sam, there’s a meeting in fifteen minutes and then we are off.’ Nodding at Reb and the doctor he walked out.

  ‘As I have discharged you, Sam, I will excuse myself. I need to prepare for the meeting.’ The doctor walked into the other room, his head barely clearing the extra tall doorway.

  Feeling oddly exposed undressing in
front of Reb he turned around. ‘Ok, I understand what they meant about me not being able to see ultraviolet, I know certain fish and birds that can, but what can he see beyond that?’

  ‘Ah, Sam, don’t worry about the doctor, he’s a bit up himself sometimes,’ Reb started to pull some information on the wall screen, until he realised the futility of it. He sighed, ‘The Preialeiac are the perfect predator. They can see from ultraviolet and all the way past thermal infrared. There hearing is impeccable, he can listen to anyone on this station from his office and I don’t just mean conversations. He once called a new technician in for a check-up because the Doc heard his heart murmur. They guy had just walked through the airlock.’

  Back in the annals of time, the Preialeiac thought they were to be the dominant race in the universe, evolving on a most inhospitable volcanic planet with savage temperatures and continental instabilities. They were the pinnacle of evolution, even after all this time. Billions of years of evolution had not created a predator as efficient as them. Spacefaring technology opened up new feeding grounds and nearby systems fell, one after another in quick succession. The fierce warriors dropped out of ships in their thousands, falling upon cities to enslave and consume. Small to medium-sized weapons were futile upon their chitin armour; a head shot being the only sure way to kill the overly large insectoids. Anyone who faced an unravelling manifestation of the Preialeiac after he’d dropped several hundred feet to land in front of you, with their paralysis inducing vocals tended to have a short and grim future. Each Preialeiac savagely swinging a six foot sabres which had literally been tempered in hell, with two pairs of long chitin armoured arms. With one long swipe of an arm they would truncate a whole patrol of armoured men, watching as they lay dying with disbelief and shock in their eyes as they tried in vain to stuff their intestine back in. To the Preialeiac it was their finest hour, fresh hordes of combatants surging upon them, feasting upon the dead and collecting grisly trophies. Suddenly disaster struck – an adversary they could not comprehend or immediately understand as they had never encountered such a thing before.