He nodded, barely able to contain his excitement. “So, let’s make sure. We’ll make this a priority, assign some more probes and start planning to send a team.”
“Looks like the Garden of Eden,” said a voice at the back of the room.
“I think this deserves a celebration,” said another voice.
There was a moment’s silence as they awaited his decision. He nodded. “Okay, but let’s do this properly; a party, tonight, my shout.”
It wasn’t too difficult to organise. The hotel was quiet and the kitchen staff were able to whip up simple finger food. He closed the bar to the public and called in a local DJ at short notice. But these arrangements were incidental; the party buzzed along on pure excitement alone.
It was during a spirited conversation that he realised he had not fully grasped the potential of this discovery. Someone had playfully suggested that if the planet was an Eden that they had the responsibility to create the best society possible.
“Yes,” said Shanti, a young systems engineer. “We simply can’t repeat the mistakes that have made this planet a hell. It’s what Marta Englested said in her diary. It’s become a mantra for everyone. Just as we can’t take Earth diseases with us, we also mustn’t take diseased ideas.”
“It’s Dawkins’s idea of memes,” added Paul, a communications specialist. “They are like genes. Some are good and some create disease. Really, we shouldn’t be taking any diseased genes and we shouldn’t be taking any diseased memes.”
“But who decides?” interrupted Dorje, a promising local physicist.
“We do,” said Shanti. “Just like you, the Bhutanese have rejected some Western memes and accepted others.”
“A Buddhist society?” objected Paul.
“You can’t ask everyone to become a Buddhist,” retorted Dorje.
“What do you think Akashji?” asked Shanti, hoping he might have an answer.
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know, but I think we need to start discussing it, urgently.”
He stayed awake for the whole night searching for information on utopian societies. He realised that he was hopelessly ill equipped. They were on the verge of colonising another world and he hadn’t really bothered to consider the long tradition of utopianism in human culture, especially as a trope in science fiction. As he followed links and leads he came across past utopian experiments: the failed settlement of New Australia in Paraguay, the religious utopias of America, British socialist utopias, hippie communes, artist colonies, the writings of Aldous Huxley and Ursula Le Guin. When the sun began to rise, his head was swimming with chaotic ideas. The only one clear idea he had was to begin the discussion and to use his resources to find the best thinking on the issue. He was left with one burning question: can you engineer a better society or do you allow it to grow naturally?
Simply asking the question lit a fire amongst the support team. Whilst they reassigned probes and began to plan an expedition they discussed what kind of society they wanted to live in. There were discussions and arguments over coffee, in corridors and long into the night. People handed around crumpled copies of treasured utopian novels and downloaded material onto tablets. The debate covered politics, religion, feminism and sexuality. There was a clear consensus that they should not repeat the mistakes of the past, but little agreement on just what those mistakes had been. Do you allow people to retain their religious beliefs? What kind of economy do you create? Will it be some form of socialist utopia or a free market utopia? Were such things even possible?
During this time people finally settled on a name for the planet, it was a cliché but no one could think of a better one – Eden.
33
Prax
“Prax, it’s 5:55.” He opened his eyes to see defender Torv lying on his bunk in the monastery, her legs spread invitingly. He felt himself rise to the occasion. As he approached her body changed to that of the much more muscular Cynthia. “Fuck me, mentor,” said Cynthia as her voice changed into that of his daughter Ana. The sight of her labia, moist and inviting, was bringing him close to the edge.
“Prax, it’s 5:58. Wake up.”
“Not now,” he snapped. He was watching his six year-old half-sister Mylene play masturbating. He was three and he was experiencing his first conscious erection. “You can stick it in,” she said. “It will feel nice.” It was a strange sensation and it did feel nice. He moved it around inside her while she continued to masturbate with one hand and stroke his testicles with the other. Yes, it was nice, very nice and he could feel himself approaching orgasm. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he wondered why he was remembering this early erotic experience.
“Magnus, it’s O600,” he heard a female voice say. He felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped awake, startled. He blinked as he tried to focus. Early morning light was filtering through an open door; a blurry figure was standing close to him.
“You must have been deep in REM sir, late night?”
“Oh, Torv, sorry… Um yes, I guess so. My guardian alerted me but it was in a dream… The run…”
He tossed off his sheets and attempted to stand.
“Obviously an erotic dream sir,” she said.
He looked at her wry smile and then realised he was fully erect. “I’m sorry…”
“What for?”
“Isn’t this a breach of protocol or something?”
“What, morning glories? I’m afraid I missed that section. I wouldn’t worry, the run will divert your blood flow soon enough. Do you need to piss before we go?”
He looked at her and noticed she could barely stop herself from laughing and from staring at his cock. He reached for his sarong.
“That will be impractical sir,” she said. “Your wristband will be all that’s required and perhaps running sandals, they’re in the closet, lower drawer.”
“I’m fine barefoot,” he said as he stood, her eyes still fixed on his cock. “I will need a drink though.”
“We can stop on the way, ready sir?” she asked as she lifted her eyes to look at his face.
“Lead the way,” he said and she turned and walked out the door.
The air outside was crisp and fragrant. He took a deep breath and then followed as she ran up the path, turning to see if he was keeping pace. She led him to a creek and he drank, his erection subsiding rapidly with the exertion. He pissed and then nodded for her to continue. It was a glorious morning. There was a light mist that highlighted the morning rays as they streamed through the canopy. A little further into the forest he caught sight of multi-coloured, fern-feathered pseudo-roos putting up their heads to see who was running through the forest before jumping away on their hind legs.
He was starting to pant and sweat as they ran up a long incline. She turned to look how he was doing and he noticed that she was barely breathing. This was effortless for her.
On the flat she picked up her pace and he struggled to keep up. When she turned and saw the expression on his face she stopped.
“Catch your breath magnus, not far to go.”
He squatted and took some deep breaths, out of the corner of his eye he saw her standing there, totally at home in the forest, her light brown skin matching the trunks of the trees, her golden eyes able to see detail he had no hope of ever seeing.
“I see what you mean by my fitness level,” he said as he stood and began to run, this time a little slower.
She slowed her pace and returned him to his hut via a shower block. A group of defenders passed them at a fast pace and deftly swerved to avoid knocking him down. She waited outside patiently as he washed away the sweat. The shower was a crude wooden affair and the water was cold so he did not linger. When he came out she was talking to another defender, a male spright runner with vivid green bird-eyes.
“Magnus,” the defender said deferentially as soon as he saw Prax.
“Defender.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later Amy,” the defender said kissing her on her cheek.
&n
bsp; “A friend?” Prax asked as the defender walked away.
“No, one of my circle brothers from home, non genetic, they’re going off-world soon.”
Prax nodded. “Which one?”
“The forest world.”
“Is he excited?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “A bit scared I think. He doesn’t quite trust the void jump. He thinks he might get stuck in-between.”
“Well, there’s really no in-between.”
“I know, but he’s not that bright. He hasn’t transitioned to his full cognitive potential so he’s still not comfortable with the void paradox, he’s a good fuck though and funny.”
There was nothing he could say to that. “Now what?”
“You dress and I take you up for breakfast to meet magnus Shimazu who’ll take you through mechanics and armaments…”
“Magnus Shimazu?”
“Yes, Tojo Shimazu, the strategos’s son.”
“Yes, of course. I know him, very well in fact.”
Tojo was waiting for him, a broad smile of expectation on his face. Torv started to take her leave as soon as she had seen him across the room - far earlier than he could. “You won’t be joining us?” he asked.
“I’ve eaten - in the defender’s mess. Don’t worry, I’ll be around.”
He wondered at her comment and thought it strangely mysterious. He watched her lithe form depart, but quickly returned his attention to Tojo, who was striding across the canteen ready to embrace him.
“Prax you stupid prick, long time no see.”
“Tojo you dick, how’d you ever become a magnus?”
They embraced warmly and laughed at each other’s comradely insults. Tojo lead him to the server as they exchanged personal information. The spread was extensive: scrambled goof eggs, gish bacon, beans, croissants, bagels, cereals, nuts, fruits, freshly brewed zinger beans (espresso).
He was glad to see Tojo. They had shared many adventures when they were young mekanikos: gotten high together, fucked some of the same people, played pranks and spent long nights discussing philosophy, politics and science – the bright young things of their era, or so they thought.
It was Tojo who changed the topic from reminisces to more serious matters. “So, I’ve been informed you are to go to Earth and perhaps become our first ambassador?”
Prax nodded. In that short sentence Tojo had informed him that he had been fully briefed. “And I assume you are to educate me in all matters regarding weaponry, especially in relation to espionage?”
“In a roundabout way – eventually. But first you need to understand that Eden is undergoing rapid change,” he said sipping his short black zinger.
Prax understood that when Tojo was serious every word was deliberate. “Obviously in ways of which I am ignorant.”
Tojo smiled. “Well, you are no fool, but the change has been so rapid not everyone can be fully informed. Important breakthroughs are happening every day. We have reached a point of critical mass. Our population is doubling every six years now. Girls are wanting children as soon as they are fertile, some even before. The base intelligence rate continues to grow. The net result is that we are fast becoming a planet of precocious preebs and probies. You and I are in our twenties and are considered old. It is those under twenty that are now driving our society and there are some genius minds amongst them. As a consequence we are making stunning breakthroughs in many fields and our industrial capacity is booming along with it. We have outgrown the capital and as you know we have started to build a second city in the north…”
Prax nodded. “I was on the committee when I was in Congress…”
“Indeed, well plans are advanced for a third and fourth city. With the population growth as it is we will soon expand onto the other continents – and now other planets…”
“Yes, but what has this got to do with weaponry?”
“Absolutely everything my friend. The mechanical arts have changed since you last worked in robotics. Drone technology has advanced, nano has advanced, levitators, biotech, genetics…”
“Of course, but…”
“Faster than you and I ever thought was practically possible.”
Prax raised his eyebrows with excited curiosity. “So I’ll be going to Earth with robot soldiers?”
Tojo laughed because he knew Prax was now teasing him; urging him to get to the details. “To cut to the point – the limitation isn’t so much the technology; it’s our understanding of the task. Take for example our expeditionary teams. In order to defend ourselves we have to understand the exact nature of the threat…”
“Which is why intelligence is so important…”
Tojo nodded but continued with his point. “So we have been in deep discussion with biologists to understand not only what techniques predators use, but also what techniques life forms use to defend themselves. The first lesson was the tragedy on Pangaea. That incident has been studied closely. They were totally unprepared. They had primitive guns. One of the team managed to get to a gun but he was so terrified he missed his target.”
“I’m aware of the incident,” added Prax.
“Yes, perhaps of the broad details, but the point is that he was terrified and that is one of the techniques predators use: shock, terror, surprise. The predators were upon the team before they realised what was happening, they lost precious seconds because they panicked.”
“So, if I am correct, you are saying the best form of defence is to be prepared.”
“No, it’s psychological – it’s to not be terrified, to not panic. But enough talk. Time for a demonstration.”
Tojo got up and dutifully took his plate to the dish station. He was now in his efficient mode, moving with speed and purpose. All Prax could do was follow. They mounted two lev scooters parked in readiness outside the canteen. Prax struggled to follow Tojo as he manoeuvered around corridors and down a dark, roughly hewn mineshaft. Eventually they entered a large, brightly lit cavern filled with technicians, workbenches and equipment.
“This is just part of the effort, really just small arms. We have factories elsewhere working on heavy armaments and a new class of interstellar jumpers.”
“I assume that is where the strategos is?”
“Not at the moment. She’s in the capital in a logistics meeting with the Congress sub-committee. We have to ask them to advance the public notification and start to shift human and physical resources to project rescue. But that’s for later. Now to show you my toys.” He walked over to a security door and they entered a brightly lit, security laboratory. A girl of no more than eleven dressed in a white lab coat looked up from a microscope. “Jelena Nikoliç, this is magnus Smith. Shall we show him our little monsters?”
The girl smiled. “Of course sir,” she said as she got up and walked to a small security cabinet.
“Now Prax, you will be startled, but I assure you, you will be safe.”
Prax was nervous. He knew this was going to be a demonstration that was designed to surprise him.
The girl placed her finger on a panel for identification and a small door slid aside. In an instant a swarm of unidentifiable black dots rushed at him. His first reaction was to put his hand up to try and swat them away, but they were too quick.
“Formation,” said the girl and with that command the dots flew over to her and lined up in a globe formation over her left shoulder.
“We call them wasps,” said Tojo proudly.
“Nano drones,” said Prax. “I see what you mean by surprise.”
“Yes, your reaction was instinctive. They’re not designed to kill, but they are designed to attack the eyes and enter the nose and ears where they release a powerful irritant. They are designed to frighten, temporarily blind and immobilise. But they’re only one part of the nano program. We have other configurations that mimic worms and bugs, some designed to deliver powerful immobilising drugs or circumvent defences undetected.”
“Possibilities we had discussed but didn’t k
now how to achieve…”
“Yes, and all developed within the last few years thanks to brats like Jelena here.” Tojo smiled at the girl and she shook her head at his lame attempt at friendly disparagement.
“It was always theoretically possible,” she said. “It was really a question of designing the equipment to construct the wee beasties. The next step is to develop nanos that can jump the void.”
Prax was shocked. “But I thought…”
She shook her head. “That there were physical limits? The first experiment in quantum teleportation happened back on old Earth in the early twenty-first century with single photons, but the equipment was cumbersome and complex. We’ve made incredible breakthroughs by creating nano void generators.”
“I see, well I guess I have some reading to do.”
Tojo cleared his voice. “I’m afraid that is classified Prax.”
“I thought I had sufficient clearance?”
Tojo shook his head. “It’s highly sensitive and something any enemy would love to know and would kill to get a hold of. You only need to know what is possible, not how it is possible.”
Prax understood the implications immediately. “Ah yes, I see, best I don’t know then.”
“Good, ready for the next demonstration?”
They left the room and mounted the scooters. Tojo took him up a large dark corridor toward an apparent dead end. As they got closer a heavy blast door began to lift and let in bright sunlight. He squinted his eyes as they exited a cliff face and came out onto a broad field. No sooner had he begun to adjust his eyes than he was blinded by another bright light coming at him at speed. He again put his hands over his eyes to protect them from the glare and attempt to make out what was coming at him: whatever it was, it was large, about the size of a human. As it got closer he could just make out it was a scooter. He dismounted his own scooter and instinctively ducked. His next surprise was to see a figure somersault from the attacking scooter and land right in front of him. Before he could make out what was happening there was a blood curdling scream, a blinding flash of light and the swish of something in front of his face.
Paradise Reclaimed Page 22