by Elliott Kay
“What is it?” Naomi asked in a hushed voice.
“Some advice a friend gave me once. Always scope out the parking lot before you walk into the party.”
She almost looked back, but stopped herself. “Not sure I want to party with these guys after an introduction like this.”
The camp fell out of view as they passed through the doorway into a broad cave beyond. Light shined down from crystals in the ceiling as soon as they entered. The floor seemed deliberately smoothed out, but the rest of the rock around them looked natural. Two more sentinels awaited at the doorway along with one of the Regents, who appeared to be standing guard.
“I don’t even know how I’m functioning right now,” said Naomi. “Not after they…” she shook her head. “Am I going numb?”
“You’re functioning because you don’t have another choice,” said Tanner. “Don’t beat yourself up for not turning into a wreck. Time for that later.”
“The door is so thick,” murmured Antonio. His head craned up and around, taking in the doorway as they passed. The door proved to be thicker than the hull of any warship. Pulled aside into its frame, the huge construct revealed multiple layers of material laid together. The path took an immediate turn to the left and downward, while another branched off to the right at a slight incline into shadow. “Why are the walls angled like this?”
“Deflection,” said Tanner. “It’s a blast shelter.” He studied the entrance to the point of turning around and stopping in his tracks. Though he took for granted the door operated on advanced, powered technology, a human contraption of the same sort usually had some sort of manual option as a back-up. He didn’t see any wheels or crank handles, though. A few crystals like those from the obelisk were embedded along the walls in a sort of diamond pattern.
“Keep moving,” said one of the sentinels.
“Is that art, or does it have a function?” Tanner pointed to the panel of crystals.
The sentinel’s head twitched. Her eyes narrowed as if she had to consider the question. “Why should it not be both?”
“How does it work?”
“Do not delay,” said one of the stone men. “We do not keep Her waiting.”
“They’re not gonna tell us,” muttered Olivia, walking at Tanner’s side.
“Nothing to lose by asking. They’re already showing a weird set of priorities.”
“What do you mean?”
“Part of my job in the Navy was handling prisoners. This isn’t how we’d do this. Kinda don’t want to give out any ideas,” he added. “These guys clearly aren’t dumb. If they’re handling us differently, they must have different priorities. Or different values.”
“You don’t think killing a bunch of people in front of us already made the point about who’s in charge?” she asked.
Tanner clamped down on his response. He’d been taught never to underestimate a prisoner. He also knew the potential value of listening to prisoners talk to one another. Their captors could be running any number of strategies on them. “Fair enough,” he said.
The tunnel curved right again, still moving gently downward and coming to a second, thinner blast door now pulled aside like the first. Beyond it, the cave continued on and soon opened into a wider passage. All along, crystals embedded in the ceiling provided light and guidance, though Tanner saw nothing to suggest anything about them beyond the same track lighting used in human construction.
Every text on xenoarchaeology warned against making too much of similarities between human and alien culture or technology. Similarities might end on the surface right where they began. Human similarities provided only a reasonable place to start; the observer had to be ready to abandon them. He couldn’t take anything for granted.
His surroundings made that point for him as the cave wall to his right gave way to a broad, open gap running several stories down and at least a hundred meters out. The space brought immediate comparisons to a sports stadium, both in size and general shape, though the middle was not open nor did the sides hold seats. Through layer after layer of metal frameworks and catwalks, the class saw thousands of spherical tanks with transparent shells. Each tank contained a thick red liquid—and a familiar silhouette.
“Are those people?” blurted Nigel.
“Yes,” said Doram. “Our people.”
A handful of Regents roamed the catwalks as if performing checks and maintenance, along with a slight scattering of men and women in loose black tunics and pants. Like the sentinels, each of them had golden skin and seemed tall and fit. Many were bald, or kept their dark hair cut to a stubble; the rest kept their hair pulled back and out of the way. Aside from sex, their simplistic hairstyles seemed to be the biggest variation between them.
“What are these? Stasis pods?” asked Kim.
“Stasis?” Doram paused, his head twitching again as if in thought. “Once, yes. They were meant for stasis in the beginning. They were built to let our people slumber until we could awaken and rebuild. That strategy is no longer viable. We cannot be as we were because of your people. The Regents determined we must change to match the changes to our world. Now they make us as we are. As you are.”
“Oh my god,” Naomi groaned with dread.
Her reaction caught Tanner’s interest. Had she figured this out? He slipped past Olivia and Nigel to move to her, wondering what she’d put together between the tank farm and everything Doram had said… and stopped.
His eyes flashed to the tank farm, and then to the stone men. The regents…those who took over for a monarch incapable of ruling.
They had altered the pods. After humanity began terraforming Minos for human habitation, the Regents repurposed the pods to let their inhabitants survive.
Already a few steps ahead of him, Naomi had plenty of questions. “Are you clones?”
Again, Doram paused as if searching his memories. His head twitched a second time. Then his eyes brightened. “Not as you know them. We are created of limited samples and guided design. This limits our variation, but it also eliminates flaws and shortcomings. Beneficial variance will increase with time.”
“How long did this take?” asked Naomi.
“The Regents recognized the need shortly after your kind began altering the environment,” Doram explained. “Your biology was easily understood once they gained access to your basic open communication systems. Most of the necessary information was broadly available. They determined the viability, procured samples, and made the first changes within the first years of human colonization.
“Once the decision was made and the process determined, the alterations of each given tank did not take long. The work of altering every tank goes on. The Regents are tireless, and now they have assistance from the first cohorts to awaken. More cohorts are yet to be reborn. Others still await alteration.”
“How…how the hell is anything even biologically compatible?” Tanner asked.
“Much of it is not. Your biology is easy to understand and to replicate. Every compound in your body can be synthesized. The land and seas of this world have always provided for most of our needs. This need proved no different. We were prepared to survive here, underground, well before your kind arrived. The Regents were capable of the necessary changes.
“The only concern that mattered was the compatibility of our memories. With work, the Regents met that challenge. The rest was comparatively easy. Our memories could be preserved; the rest had to be sacrificed.”
“Sacrificed? You seem awfully calm about it,” said Tanner.
“It is necessary. It will be temporary.”
“You’re talking about your whole life.”
“This one, yes,” Doram conceded. “Perhaps the next. It is only temporary. We were beautiful once. We will be beautiful again.”
Chapter Twenty-Two:
Grudges
“The tremors are getting worse. We’ve gone from forty years of nothing to a global rise over the last two days. We need to brief the response committee e
ven if it means waking them up.”
--Minos Enterprises Internal Communications, August 2280
“I hope Vandenberg is okay. I hope they haven’t hurt him.”
“I don’t see why they would. Or why they’d lie about it. They’ve said he’s okay.”
“Good, because I’m going to kill him.”
Tanner missed a step. He didn’t expect that from Naomi.
“Violence in Her presence will not be permitted,” warned the sentinel walking to their right. “Your disputes are your own. Resolve them when we are finished.”
“It’s only a figure of speech,” said Tanner.
“Usually,” said Naomi.
Cave tunnels through bare rock had given way to smooth walls, the latter looking much like pale marble rather than the black and dark greys near the entrance. Art and decoration became more common, with geometric designs running everywhere. Side rooms and branching hallways appeared more often, too, though the escorts took the class down only one turn in their path where the passage remained broad and tall.
Once more, Tanner turned all the way around at that point to absorb all he could before one of the sentinels prodded him forward again. It might be important to remember the view from the opposite direction.
“How far have we walked? Two klicks?” he murmured, looking to Solanke.
“Hm?” Solanke shook his head. “What’d you say?”
“It helps to focus on the moment,” Tanner advised gently.
“I don’t need counseling.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m not qualified. You don’t have time right now, anyway. Sort that out later. Try to keep your eyes peeled.”
The mercenary slid him a suspicious glance. “Seems like your tone toward me sure changed all of the sudden.”
“It’s ‘cause I’ve been in the sort of spot you’re in. No point worrying about anything else right now. Let’s focus on getting out of this alive.”
“I think we’re a little over two kilometers,” said Gina. Like the rest, she kept her voice low. “I gave up trying to count steps, but it seems about right.”
“Didn’t notice you slip back to keep pace with me,” said Tanner.
“Trying to play it cool like everyone else here. Besides, I’ve gotta stick close to somebody,” she added with a grim smirk.
He nodded. It made sense. Despite the shock and danger, Gina seemed to be holding it together well. So did several of the other students, but not all of them. “We need to look out for Olivia,” he murmured. “And Nigel.”
“Right. Well, whenever it’s time, don’t forget about me,” said Gina. She picked up her stride to slip up next to Olivia. Whatever she said to their classmate, Tanner couldn’t hear it, but their body language suggested it was supportive enough.
Antonio shifted his spot in the pack, too. He came beside Nigel, grunting out some comment to distract the younger student from his worries. Tanner let out a tense breath.
“What is it?” Solanke asked.
“The others. Taking care of their own,” Tanner answered quietly. He nodded to Gina, then to Antonio. “I didn’t think he could hear us, but he moved over to Nigel as soon as I said something about it. Hell, maybe he didn’t hear me at all.”
“Is that a big deal?”
“Feels like it is right now. Guy’s got a lot of natural leadership talent. Naomi, too.”
“You don’t think they’re looking to you?” Solanke asked.
“God, I hope not. Maybe to take point in a crisis, but I can’t lead. It’s not in my bag of tricks.”
Solanke glanced from one student to the next. “Uh-huh.”
“Stop,” commanded Doram from the front of the group. He turned to address his captives, pointing to a broad, open archway to their left. “She is within. Speak and act with care. She may wish to hear from you. If not, be silent. Do not step onto Her space unless commanded.”
Ushered through the archway, Tanner found himself in something between a temple and the flag bridge of a battleship. Marble flooring spread out across the large, rounded chamber, matched with more of the same beautiful stone along the walls and across the ceiling. Men and women with black tunics over their golden skin stood at small obelisks scattered across the room, with more of those high-fidelity projections rising from each. The set-up reminded Tanner of the astrogation tables on a starship, providing three-dimensional projections of space. A couple of the obelisks seemed to provide exactly that, with views of Minos and its orbiting moons. Others displayed views of the dig site, that stadium-sized tank farm back toward the entrance, and even a distant view of Anchorside.
A second, smaller chamber stood across from the entrance, like an ornate pavilion carved into the cave. Several steps rose from the main floor to the pavilion, with artful columns bracing the ceiling in a curve to either side ending at the walls. The interior glowed with the light of more immersive holo projections, and with the bright white fabric worn by a tall, golden-skinned woman in the center. Beside her stood a pair of Regents and one more familiar figure.
“Professor?” Olivia called out with worry.
He turned at the sound of her voice, hesitating only to say something with a slight, deferential bow to the woman at his side before crossing out of the pavilion. He met them at the bottom of the steps. “I’m so glad to see you. You’re alright? You’re all here?”
Though Olivia and a few of the other students rushed forward to meet him, Naomi stiffened before he came close. “We’re okay,” she answered pointedly. “I’m not sure what scope of ‘all’ you’re using.”
“What? What do you mean?” said Vandenberg.
“They killed the soldiers,” said Kim. For the first time since this began, her voice cracked. “We saw the bodies. They’re dead.”
Vandenberg winced. His jaw set firmly before he looked over his class again. “Everyone else is alright? They didn’t hurt any of you?”
“Only the Precision Solutions guys,” Tanner spoke firmly to catch the professor’s gaze. He tilted his head to Solanke. “Only the students are left. The soldiers are all gone. Professor.”
“I understand,” Vandenberg confirmed, though his voice shook. “I am sorry. I am so sorry for… all of that.”
“To say you are sorry indicates regret,” came a strong and clear voice from behind him. She stood at the top of the handful of steps, looking down at the crew with eyes so deeply blue they looked no more natural than her skin. Her white, sleeveless clothes stood out from the black tunics worn by everyone else, too, along with the more careful cut. The slight billow of fabric at her legs tapered off at the ankles. Gemstones gleamed at her waist, her wrists, and her upper arms, along with an elaborate set of jewelry covering only the fingertips of her right hand.
“You wished to be reunited with your students,” she continued. “You wanted them free of their captors. Those humans were a danger to them and to you, as they were to my people. We shared mutual interests, so I granted your wish. Are you not grateful?”
“Yes.” Vandenberg promptly turned to face her, tilting his head again in another small show of deference. “Yes, of course I am grateful for the reunion. I only hoped there would be no bloodshed. If I had known, I would not have… I would have spoken more precisely.”
“What did you do?” Naomi asked him. “How long have you been down here?”
“Er—we only spoke briefly. Not so long, I think…?”
“Seventy-eight minutes have passed since your first words to me,” said the golden woman. Her jaw twitched slightly, her gaze taking on a brief distance. “In that time, you have spoken for a total of forty-three minutes and thirty-one seconds. I have spoken for twenty. Interruptions and silence accounts for the rest.”
Her simple answer stole everyone’s words. The professor grew red, looking to Naomi with nothing coming from his open mouth.
“Professor, who is this?” asked Tanner.
“Seems pretty obvious,” muttered Nigel.
“Aliens
,” Tanner reminded him quietly. “Assumptions can get people killed.”
Again, Vandenberg turned with a wince. He’d heard, of course; that wince spoke volumes. “My friends, this is Amara. She is Empress of Minos and Mother to the Minoan People. This planet is… Hers.”
“She’s the empress mum?” Solanke asked in disbelief.
“Mum. Mother. Yes,” answered Amara. “A useful analogue. My people did not evolve with sexual dimorphism as yours have. As your species has adapted our world to your uses, so we have adapted and improved your form to survive. The female form would seem to have greater influence over the creation of life, thus making it closer to my role. While the rest is clearly of importance to your kind, to us the distinctions are arbitrary. The current leaders of your kind’s greatest powers are also female, and thus a peer relationship determined the rest.”
“Which leaders?” Nigel asked.
“The President of the Union Assembly. Ji Xue, the president of Lai Wa Corporation. Christina Walters, president of NorthStar. Your most recent victorious war leader is female. We found other examples. Peer similarity would seem to provide some small advantage for no significant cost.”
“How is a mother a useful analogue?” Naomi asked. “Those tanks out there are growing people. Are they all tied to you biologically?”
“I rule Minos. My people reproduce organically, as do yours, but those who return do so at my decision. Or the decision of my… you would call them deputies or vassals.”
“Return?”
“Doram,” said Amara.
The lead sentinel turned to one of his subordinates, taking from him the ancient black jar. He presented the jar to Amara with both hands in a show of reverence.
“They are of the mountain’s shadow to the east,” she determined. “The line will require a new name for this language, as do the others. These are the honored progenitors. Unseal the vessel. Perhaps their time has finally come.”
Doram scraped the bottom of the seal at the top of the jar with his fingertips, cracking the old mortar with an ease no one in the class would have dared match for fear of destroying something important. He removed the lid, presenting it once again to his empress. She drew a rough crystal orb from within, half the size of a fist.