Eden's Endgame

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by Barry Kirwan


  He sat with Sandy and Vashta. Sandy had tried to give him a hug when she first saw he was alive, inflicting great physical pain, and had then berated him for having her whisked off the ship. Vashta had silenced her by simply saying, “Thank you.” Vashta had injected him with something, so he felt no pain whatsoever, and said she would patch him up later. She’d also explained how Qorall, in a last fit of rage, had tried to send trigger signals to a hundred and fifty homeworlds throughout the galaxy, all booby-trapped with planet-breakers. The Hohash had intercepted and neutralised all the carrier waves, saving trillions of lives.

  The avatar of Hellera appeared. He had to admit she’d played everything flawlessly.

  But she hadn’t been alone, at least not at first. “Kalaran?” he asked.

  Her ice cold voice answered, for the first time tinged with sadness. “This was his plan all along. We knew we could not destroy Qorall’s ship. But we could send it to another universe, a very short-lived one.”

  Micah pondered: Qorall had planned his conquest for millions of years, but then so too had Kalaran, with the aid of the Spiders, all the time waiting till the last moment. Micah found he had to pose the question…

  “Is Kalaran really gone?”

  Hellera stared into the distance. “Yes. And perhaps, no. He imbued the Spider race with traces of his consciousness. He believed they could fast-track their development, surpassing even us and reaching Level Twenty within a million years. When they reach Level Nineteen, the embers of his consciousness may coalesce, and his mind will live again.”

  “He’ll come back for you.”

  Hellera stared at Micah with all-grey eyes. “You humans truly embody pathos: it is your defining characteristic. Though I begin to see why Kalaran tolerated you.”

  Micah countered: “You took a risk when you whisked Sandy and Vashta onto your ship. Any such transport drains significant energy from your ship. I’m surprised you did it. It wasn’t tactically sound.”

  “You humans infected Kalaran’s mind with compassion. I told him so. But at the end, I knew what he would have done. It seems I am not immune either. I left Blake’s template running, and it said ‘We don’t leave people behind.’ Besides, your suicide run towards Qorall distracted him – made him blink – at a crucial moment. Kalarash always reward merit.”

  “Then, I have something else to ask. The Nchkani ships, are they all –”

  “The Rangers have destroyed all the surviving ships, except the one that rebelled.”

  Sandy folded her arms.

  Micah pressed. “The one called Louise, she –”

  “I made a deal with her, Micah. Her rebellion was part of the plan.”

  “She has committed atrocities –”

  “I am aware. But the deal stands. Kalarash do not break their word, either. You will not harm her. You may ask something else, but not this. I will send you a Hohash. You have a week to decide. After that I am leaving this galaxy. Louise and all her Alicians are coming with me. I will find them a new home, in a distant part of the universe.”

  It sounded final, and non-negotiable, but Micah wouldn’t let it go.

  “I’d like a word with her first.”

  Micah found himself standing on an endless sandy beach under a stark sun, with nothing present but a Hohash, and Louise.

  “Before you get any ideas, we’re not really here,” she said. “If we were, you’d be dead by now.”

  He studied her. She looked weary, older. “Why did you change sides?”

  “Don’t get your moral hopes up, Micah. It was survival, plain and simple. After Qorall’s tactics on Savange, I realised that even if we helped him win, afterwards we’d be squashed or abandoned, and if he lost…”

  “If you ever come back –”

  She laughed. “You share humanity’s biggest flaw, Micah: you think you’re more important than you actually are. I have no intention of ever returning, and Hellera is sending us far away across the universe. Given relativistic travel, even if we did return one day, it would be thousands of years in your future, possibly millions.”

  He hadn’t thought of that, but it was true. “Be kind to Ash and Sonja,” he said.

  “I plan to.”

  Micah realised she was sincere. He recalled her trying to save Alician children during the bombardment of Savange. “Something has changed in you, Louise.”

  She shrugged. “Not that much. For example, I’ll live another five hundred years, maybe longer, and I’m happy to know that I’ll still be young when you’re dying of old age.”

  Micah countered. “And I’m happy to know that if you or any other Alicians ever come back we’ll be far more advanced than you by the time you arrive.”

  “Unlikely.” She paused. “You’ve changed, too, Micah. It suits you.”

  There was nothing more to say. Their eyes met once, and then he was back with Sandy and Vashta.

  “She won’t bother us again,” he said.

  After an hour, a door slid open and a bruised but grinning Ukrull arrived, a Hohash at his side. There was another Ranger with him, Micah reckoned a female.

  “I take you home,” he growled. “This is Manota,” he added. “She’s coming too.”

  As they boarded his cramped ship, Sandy, who had said nothing since Hellera’s last words and Micah’s encounter with Louise, finally spoke to him.

  “Do you know what you will ask of Hellera?”

  Micah nodded.

  She sat next to him, laid her head on his shoulder, and fell asleep.

  Micah stayed awake as long as he could, but exhaustion crashed over him, and he slipped into a dream of what he was going to ask for.

  Micah and Petra watched the Youngblood sparring match, as they sat in the top row of one of the four wooden pavilions erected in front of the Monofaith church, each stand packed with onlookers for the tournament. The sun beat down on everyone present, the cracked sky finally dismantled by the Shrell. This was the last stage of the tournament, the other trials including a simulated space battle, won convincingly by a single individual. Micah hadn’t been surprised. This last stage, though, was about martial abilities, in honour of Ramires.

  The four white stands encircled a crude arena of sand, where a row of young men – some Youngbloods, some Mannekhi – waited in line to try and beat the new champion. Xenic was loudly berating two of his warriors who’d just been defeated; Micah thought Xenic looked perfectly at home.

  Petra’s eyes lingered on the undefeated recent arrival. “He’s even less like Gabriel than the one before,” she said.

  “Best Hellera could do,” Micah answered. “She was reluctant to even try it a second time, something about breaking a Kalarash rule, though she wouldn’t explain why.”

  “It’s alright, I’ll take it – I mean him.” She then lowered her voice so much that Micah wasn’t sure he was meant to hear. “If he’ll take me.”

  He touched her hand. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Petra.”

  She turned to him, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t ask Hellera to… to make him…?”

  “What? No, of course not. I’m not even sure she could...”

  Petra stared at him a long moment, then returned her gaze to the match. Micah hoped she couldn’t see the relief on his face. Hellera had not been impressed by the suggestion, but had agreed to ‘tip the scales a fraction’. In Micah’s mind Petra had suffered too much already; losing a third Gabriel would wreck her.

  Another Youngblood hit the deck, cheers rising, with many people on their feet cheering at the prowess of the clone. Hellera had said he was Level Six. Micah hadn’t told Petra that either, but she’d figure it out soon enough. It was necessary for mankind’s evolution, although it would take at least a thousand years for the rest of humanity to catch up. If there was one thing he’d learned from the Kalarash, it was the value of thinking long term.

  As the energetic applause died down following a young Mannekhi’s defeat in the latest bout, Petra regained her Pres
idential tone. “So, she granted you three wishes in the end. How exactly did you manage that?”

  Micah laughed. “Ukrull helped, actually, as did Vashta, given what I asked first.”

  “How is that going, by the way?”

  “The few Rangers who agreed to stay are fast-tracking the Ossyrians’ augmentation to Level Nine. It will take a few centuries, but they’ve already started to take up their new role as galactic peace-keepers. They’re going to try and undo what the Tla Beth did to the Q’Roth tribes, too, those who survived.”

  Petra gave him a look. “Heavily armed doctors; you have a strong sense of irony, Uncle.”

  She hadn’t called him that in a while. He squeezed her hand. Gazing across to the pavilion opposite, he spotted Kat and Antonia sitting close together, talking, ignoring the match, ensconced in each other’s company as if sitting alone in a park.

  “Will the other higher races accept it?” Petra asked.

  “The Grid hierarchy is finished. Races will advance at their natural speed, no longer held back, locked into intelligence Levels, and the Ossyrians are going to help that process. In any case, most species are busy licking their wounds and re-building; several are heading off with Hellera, certainly the Tla Beth, what’s left of them.”

  “With Louise and the Alicians.”

  Micah stared at the latest bout, five Youngbloods circling the new Gabriel.

  “And Ash and Sonja,” he said. He forced himself to be more upbeat. “Hellera will deposit them in a distant galaxy to fend for themselves. Then she’ll go exploring, maybe force a reunion of the remaining Kalarash.”

  “With Jen.”

  He nodded. He’d really thought Jen would stay, but she’d said she wanted to remain with the Kalarash, that Dimitri would have wanted her to explore the universe. And the latest Gabriel didn’t really know her. Micah never thought he’d miss Jen. “Hellera accepted in an instant; after all, Jen had been with Kalaran for quite a while.”

  “Won’t she miss human contact?”

  Micah arched his eyebrows.

  “Okay, silly question. Maybe she’ll push Louise into that mercury lake at the bottom of Hellera’s ship.”

  Micah grinned.

  Petra grew serious. “So, Micah, she gave you a new version of Gabriel, and has left the Ossyrians in charge. How long before your third wish?”

  Micah drew in a long breath. “There’s no fast-tracking that one, I’m afraid. We won’t see it, Petra, nor your grand-kids.”

  Another cheer erupted from the crowd, who began chanting Gabriel’s name. He thought he detected Petra blush. She cleared her throat.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Uncle. Anyway, that reminds me. What’s the deal with you and Sandy?”

  “There is no deal,” he said.

  She nudged his elbow. “Ask her.”

  He gave Petra a look. “And what do I ask, exactly? She’s avoided me since we got back.”

  Petra laughed. “Still hopeless in that domain, I see.”

  He shrugged. “I aim for consistency.” But his eyes searched the crowd, and he found Sandy, down on the arena floor. She handed a thin rod to Gabriel, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Sandy then turned and glanced surreptitiously in Micah’s direction; he thought he detected a smile.

  Micah stood up. “I think I’ll go and congratulate him, too.”

  “Sure,” Petra said. “What happened to consistency, though?”

  Micah didn’t reply, and took the steps down to the arena two at a time.

  Anca and Jolan stared down through the skyship’s portal to the planet’s surface below. The terraformers had finally returned to orbit a few weeks earlier, after two centuries of painstaking work. Now it was up to the planet.

  A break in the cloud layer allowed them to see. “There,” Anca said, feeling a stab of excitement as she pointed to a slash of lush green in the ruddy landscape, a small herd of brown quadrupeds grazing on a hillside. “It’s taking.”

  “I admit I had my doubts,” Jolan said.

  “It means we are only days away.” She resisted taking Jolan’s hand. Their relationship had not yet been announced, and now was not the time. “We’ve dreamed this dream for so long.”

  He nodded. “Your great-great-grandfather would have been proud.”

  She glanced at her lover, the leader of the Youngbloods, his all-blue eyes signalling his mixed human-Mannekhi heritage. But this was an official trip, and they had not been able to sleep with each other for a week. She mind-de-activated the cams for a moment, took his hand and kissed it, keeping eye contact. Then she let go, and re-activated the cams. She was President, after all.

  Jolan asked the question publicly, the one they had debated privately in her bed chamber before the journey.

  “How many will move here?”

  “Not all, not at first.” Even she would miss Esperia, though she longed to set foot on the virgin planet below.

  “Do we name it Earth, as it was before?”

  She shook her head. “No. The time-seal on the file opened this morning.” This part had not been choreographed; nobody had known what Micah had decided two centuries ago, the name for his famed third wish. Anca knew the revelation had to be authentic, and so had not told Jolan. Everyone on the ship, back home, and in the Colonies was watching.

  Jolan was clearly surprised, perhaps a little hurt, but if so he masked it well, and played his role. “What name did he propose?”

  She was about to speak when the gravity of it all swept over her, and Anca found she had to suppress her emotions more than usual. She paused, not for dramatic effect, but rather she wondered if Micah had been right to give it this name. But it had been his legacy. And he had added in the file something she didn’t quite understand, which she would have to check with the historian later: third time lucky.

  She allowed the cams access to her emotional state, so those watching could feel what she felt, if they so wished; it was part of her duty, and might persuade more to come here. She waved a hand, and the cams captured the view through the portal, down through thinning clouds, to the sparkling blue waters underneath. So odd to see ocean rollers above ground, glittering in the sunlight, unlike Esperia’s grey underground seas. Remote sense-cams nearer the surface relayed the sight, sound and smell of waves crashing onto the shore, followed by the hiss of surf retracting over pebbles, mixed with the salty tang of seawater. Somewhere out of view a bird called in a high-pitched shriek.

  To hell with decorum. Anca reached out her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jolan clasped his fingers in hers, and she knew it was the right name for the planet, and spoke it aloud for all to hear.

  “Eden.”

  Eden’s Aliens, Artefacts and Ships

  Achillia – personal guard of the Alician Supreme Leader.

  Alicians – neo-human race genetically altered by the Q’Roth to increase intelligence, resilience and longevity. Alicians are named after Alessia, their founder, who brokered a deal with the Q’Roth in 1053 AD to prepare humanity for culling, and to eradicate Earth-based nuclear and nano-based weaponry, in exchange for genetic advancement and patronage. Alicians are Level Five, and are led by Sister Esma. Louise is an Alician renegade imbued with too much Q’Roth DNA.

  Anxorians – Level Sixteen race, originally patrons of the Nchkani, who were annihilated in a rebellion fifty thousand years ago by the Tla Beth and the Q’Roth, for reasons that remain unclear. The best hypothesis relates to their military prowess, which possibly began to threaten the Tla Beth. The Nchkani took their place.

  Dark Worms – leviathan-like creatures that live in the space between galaxies, feeding off both dark and normal energy sources. They are very difficult to kill. Normally they are kept outside by the Galactic Barrier, which was breached by Qorall’s forces.

  Esperantia –the principal human town on Esperia, population circa 20,000.

  Esperia – formerly Ourshiwann – the Spider planet serving as mankind’s home after the fall of E
arth and Eden, with only two major cities: human-occupied Esperantia, and Spider-occupied Shimsha.

  Finchikta – Level Nine bird-like creatures who administrate judicial affairs for the Tla Beth, e.g. during the trial of humanity in 2063.

  Genners – following the trial of humanity, prosecuted by the Alicians and the Q’Roth, mankind was quarantined on Esperia for its own protection and all children genetically upgraded to Level Four (with Level Five potential) by the Ossyrians. ‘Genners’ surpass their parents intellectually by the age of twelve.

  Grid – ring-shaped ultra-rapid transport hub that runs around the inner rim of the galaxy, for ease of commerce. Grid Society: established by the Kalarash ten million years ago, based on a scale of levels of intelligence running from one to nineteen, with Kalarash at the top. Mankind initially graded Level Three.

  Hohash – intelligent artefacts resembling upright oval mirrors, designed by the Kalarash, known as omnipaths due to their powerful perception, communication and recording abilities. Their true function is unknown.

  Hushtarans – Level Eight race with squid-like ships that use anti-matter cables similar to Q’Roth Crucible ships.

  Jannahi Galaxy – original home galaxy of the Kalarash; d destroyed during the first war with Qorall.

  Kalarash – Level Nineteen beings originally believed to have left our galaxy. Only seven remain in the universe. Little is known about them. They are called Progenitors by many Grid species, as the Kalarash fostered civilisation in the galaxy, based on a strictly hierarchical intelligence-ranking system. The Kalarash never leave their Crossbow ships.

  Korakkara – volcanic Q’Roth homeworld, partly destroyed by an enemy race, largely uninhabited except for the High Queen and her personal guard.

 

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