by Jon State
“Now that that’s settled, has anyone suffered any adverse effects to the water?” Dr. Spencer said, keeping his tone even.
“I have to admit, I expected complications, but the Alphas report no adverse symptoms or abnormal behavior.” Ben noticed Spencer’s unique expression of doubt; he’d gotten used to it by now. “I have noticed a slight drop in interest, but it is barely discernible, and the people are beginning to accept their new home in a way I never thought possible. I think this alone is worth it. Once we find the cure for the infertility, we can work on an alternate method to contain the gifts, if only until we are ready for them.”
“So there is plenty to keep everyone occupied,” Dr. Spencer said, gazing towards the growing city. Whitewashed buildings seem to consume the tents.
“Yes, and I feel the better for it. I know it may not last—the peace, I mean—but I understand Murphy's Law all too well,” Ben said, turning to the unsettling land beyond the wall. It still frightened him. There was so much he did not understand about this world. On one side he had civilization and on the other turmoil. The land had a macabre side to it, as well as a lovely one. Ben preferred to see its vile nature because it kept him alert and resolute. Let the people thrive in ignorance, and let’s live, Ben concluded in his mind.
Chapter 57
Fortitude
Terranova, USC
January 28 4087
Dr. Spencer stepped out into the chill. Gray smeared icicles hung from the new med clinic’s fascia. Above the city, mountainous clouds kept the morning sun sequestered. Their hues ranged from a striking purple to a bloody red. The absence of sun called for energy conservation throughout Terranova. Winter had been mild but harsh enough to keep everyone indoors for the better part of the morning.
The doctor and others worked for years on a way to save the human race, to no avail. When it became obvious that infertility dilemma could not be resolved, they began experimenting with others methods; cloning, cell splicing, and local cell transfusions .
Meanwhile, the land remained silent as the years drifted on—time, a never stopping engine.
The city rose like a diamond in a sea of green. Advances were made and smiles still touched the lips of those in the Terranova colony, despite the age lines that afflicted all their faces.
Dr. Spencer and Malica were married. People went on with their lives, hoping and praying that a solution to their plight would one day be solved.
In all the time elapsed the Bisonon had not shown themselves. Dr. Spencer hoped they never would. The Alphas offered an extra layer of protection, but in the end, they were machines pervious to tampering.
“Hi early bird,” Malica said, extending her blanket over him.
“Couldn’t sleep. My dreams or nightmares are getting worse. I miss those dreamless nights we had when we got here.” He smiled and touched her hand.
“I know what you mean but those days were also full of pain and uncertainty.”
His eyes went back to the murky heavens. “I don’t miss the pain. As for uncertainty, that keeps me up more than anything. I’ve tried the breathing techniques you taught me but—”
“The future of mankind is not solely on your shoulders. Others as highly skilled as you are hitting the same wall. You are not alone on this,” she said, wrapping herself around him and kissing him gently on the cheek.
He had to smile. “Thank you, honey. Tomorrow we start animal cell splicing.”
“How have the animals reacted?”
“Actually, they don’t feel a thing. An Alpha comes swooshing in from above and tranquilizes the animal. He extracts a small amount of blood and leaves it something to eat, sort of an exchange. Mother seems to respect that and so do the animals because they remain where they are following the transaction.”
“Do you think this will work?”
Dr. Spencer stared out at the city. “Only time will tell, and this will take a lot of time.”
“At least everyone seems of good cheer. The people are working together and the Alphas have been a cheerful addition. Many have bonded with some of the people. Like you and Alpha 80.”
“He and Johnson are always at it. Funny thing is, they get along so well,” Dr. Spencer said with a smile.
“I hope and pray that Mother will guide our efforts.”
“Amen to that,” Dr. Spencer said, but his frown remained.
Chapter 58
Rectitude
Terranova, USC
May 22, 4087
For the doctor and the Council, the days meandered toward human extinction, but to everyone else, they sailed on in endless wonder, thanks to the serum.
“So much, so far… and another blunder! I am sick of trying and failing, and now you want me to use a full corpse?” Dr. Spencer said, his face tight and his eyes weighing heavy on hollow eye sockets and large purplish bags below them.
“Spence, I’m sure this is what we need. Cloning will not save us. We don't have the resources or the technology, and with such limited power sources as the sun and river, it would take decades to implement. As for the infertility studies, we’ve hit rock bottom, and I'm quoting your words," Ben said, his thick, grey eyebrows becoming one.
"I know we've gone through this, but how about the moral implications?" Dr. Spencer said. He knew experimenting with a human body without the deceased’s consent was morally wrong. That’s why on Old Earth the USC required three signatures and one witness when donating a corpse to science. Dr. Spencer feared what such a violation would do to them as a civilized society. He'd seen New Earth’s soil grant life. The soil could be called Miraculous but what they had concocted felt wrong. Playing god with primordial amino acids to incite growth, seemed harmless, compared to bringing back a full corpse.
“Who will debate this when the human race ceases to exist? What are our options? We are unable to conceive, and the hour hand is sitting close to dusk for many Terrans. We emerged from the toasters twenty years ago. No child made it to the pods. Webster Carlson is the youngest man among us, and he is forty now." Ben came around the table clasping both hands behind his back. "We have many scientists in this community. The top minds of the twenty-first century and we're in a deadlock. Let’s face it—by the time we find out what's causing infertility, we'll all be dead. We are a dying race, Spence." Ben's arms flailed above his head in exasperation.
The doctor didn’t need to be reminded. He and Malica had given up on having a baby. The doctor’s lips curled inward. Dr. Spencer had decided not to be recalcitrant with the Council, and things had gone well, despite their procreation plight. “Alright, but I will not initiate unless I'm certain we have a viable subject. I'm a doctor, and this reality goes beyond my scientific calling. Thus I am unwilling to cause harm, not even to something we concoct in a lab. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course, Spence. The Council is not a barbaric entity. We will defer to your expertise and the Hippocratic Oath,” Ben said, holding up both hands as if pleading.
“What does the Council think of this initiative?”
Ben nodded. “They wanted you to be there. I said I’d fill you in on what we wanted done, but if you said no, then we don’t move forward with it. You are a Council member and our head physician. I am not going to do this forcefully.”
“Thanks, but your right. I have a feeling that, despite my better judgment, this will work. I only wish the Dreamers still had their visions, at least for this undertaking.”
“I know what you mean.” Ben looked away then back at Spencer and began, “Perhaps—”
“No, I don’t know what taking them off the serum will do. Furthermore, I don’t want them to get their hopes up, so I can later rob them of it." Dr. Spencer was quiet for a moment. His gaze drifted somewhere far from Terranova, then he said, "Who are we experimenting on?"
Ben handed Dr. Spencer a pad. "His name is Daniel Fleming, and he’s a neuroscientist. I mean, used to be. His Toaster broke the stasis cycle in 3983. He is the best preserved person among the 123 malfu
nctioned pods.”
“You realize our facility has been set up for sample trials only. We will need a larger containment unit?”
Ben mulled it over…. He gazed across the rough whitewashed lab walls. “Can we modify a cryogenic-unit? I mean, it has all the desired dimensions. We would have to risk going back to the caverns to salvage one or two.”
“Might as well bring back as much equipment as we can. I’ll need additional canisters, hoses, hardware, and wiring.” The doctor realized he might have to go with the team, but he feared the land, so he added, “I can make a detailed list.”
“Sounds great. I will convene the Council immediately.”
Dr. Spencer watched him leave, failing to realize how hard he gripped the chair's armrests.
Chapter 59
Shock
Terranova, USC
May 24, 4087
Dr. Spencer’s back wedged hard against jagged rock fingers. His thoughts raced. Shit! Why did I agree to come? We should’ve bought an Alpha and not just Harmon’s suit. The suit had malfunctioned, but he'd been able to deliver one fiery bolt, which saved his life. Miller and Gonzales had not favored so well. He'd lived to see another day—ol' Die-Hard Spence, they’d coined me in college. His space ball theatrics had earned him a scholarship until a polarized ball had smashed his spine on a day when he'd gotten cockier than usual. To him, the metal-plastic covered orb was a Miracle of the twenty-first century, until it doomed his career as a promising superstar. At the time, he’d told a fellow student, ‘I will never die. How can I? Being indestructible and all.’ The arrogance of that moment still made him cringe. The impact to his spine had shattered a vertebrae bone. He had to find a job after his recuperation to pay for his career as a surgeon. Thankfully, he’d never neglected his studies and life went on—less glamorous, of course, but it continued—and here he found himself, cowering beside a rock wall in a nightmarish land dodging monsters, but still alive. I'm like a weed, refusing to go away, no matter how many times the caring gardener tried until the poor gardener pushed daisies and the weed ruled the garden. Well in my case, I’m a dying weed, he thought, sulking in fear, trying to distract himself from what lurked beyond the rocky region and the approaching night.
Plantlets scurried, lashed, and bobbed all around him. He saw a green salamander-like reptile slap his chameleon tong at a hairless, pink-skinned mouse. The mouse squirmed and squeaked while the salamander worked its maw over it. Dr. Spencer was too afraid to appreciate the wonders surrounding him. He belonged in a lab, in his hospital, not facing monsters in the wild. He admired Mirra, the crazed ecosystem lover. Perhaps this is why Mother had not granted him a gift—because he only wanted to speak on behalf of others, but when it came to roaming free among the land, he never fathomed seeking out the adventurous place beyond the wall. He felt safe and content within the city walls. He felt like such a hypocrite.
Damn it. I should have listened to Malica. She told me it was too dangerous out here. She wanted to come. I’m glad I refused. I would've been helpless to save her. Probably would've got me and her killed. I'm not cut out for this shit! Plus for the first time, I feel my age. He had run as fast as he could but realized how slow he had moved compared to the memories of his youthful self.
He had no clue how to elude the creatures that attacked them, but they were still out there, waiting for him to show himself. They would get their way soon since he had no water or food. The suit's malfunction had taken out the water circulation unit. No one had devoted time to the prototype since no one wanted to leave the protection of the wall. He wished he'd taken the time. Harmon believed in it.
This attack could mean that Mother knows what we are attempting. He shuddered at the thought.
Dr. Spencer didn’t feel comfortable experimenting on human bodies, but these past twenty years had taken a toll on his resolve. He took one step forward and five back in finding a cure or solution for their dwindling numbers. This year alone, five people had died—two of old age and three to unknown illnesses.
The lizards wanted more human blood because he could hear them hissing and scampering close by. He'd used plant secretions to confound the things, and it worked. All he could do now was sit tight and hope they’d give up and move on—with their kill. Oh my God! The ghastly images swam over his vision making him feel queasy. Their kill--my friends. What happened to…? This thought broke him. He silently wept for them. He could see Gonzales’s smiling face as he spoke about his favorite Latin meals, or Miller and his southern drawl and how nothing seemed to faze the man, except when he was injured.
He lowered himself and prayed a different monster would not find him appetizing. He heard a raucous sound above him and squirmed so hard against the rocks that he felt as if they had cut through the suit. He doubted he could stay hidden in the tight niche for more than a few hours before he had to move. Numbness crawled up his legs. Their footfalls and raspy hisses became louder as if they were right behind him. Dr. Spencer squeezed his eyes closed and refused to breath.
Chapter 60
Exposure
Terranova, USC
May 25, 4087
“Alpha’s, use minimal force on any indigenous life form. Confirm command," Jondis said, eyeing all three androids.
The Alpha’s red eyes locked on him, their simple design a cover for what lay beneath. One little automaton could manage the largest creature on New Earth.
“Confirmed.” They chimed in unison.
Jondis knew many artificial intelligent automatons from his time, but none were as sophisticated as the little Alphas. They were a technological wonder, as much as a work of art, and if you spoke with them long enough, you swore you were talking to a person. At first, they had scared the hell out of him. Who the hell put them in the stairwell of each floor in the Empire State Building site? He’d asked himself over and over again with no logical answer in sight, but they had assisted them for twenty years now, and he trusted them with his life. He’d never seen anything like them. Of course, he didn’t remember all the androids from his time due to the cryogenic process, which had stolen some fragments from his past. They’d all known the risks helium freezing would have on their metabolism and minds. He often tried to recall something and it tore at him for hours—sometimes days—resulting in a savage headache, but the memory remained dead to him forever, he imagined.
Efrem and Manas lead separate teams in order to cover more ground. He hoped they’d fared better than he.
“Humanoid thermal signature detected. Triangulating position,” an Alpha said.
“Distance?” Jondis asked, studying the land where the Alpha had pointed.
“Forty yards, bearing 230 degrees NW.”
Jondis hoped the humanoid it referred to belonged to the relocation expedition. Out of the seven member party, only four returned carting the two toasters. They said the doctor and two others were separated by an organized band of reptiles. “Is the humanoid in danger?” Jondis said.
“Seven creatures detected within radius. None threatening,” another Alpha said.
“Move in.” Jondis hefted a two barrel 12 gauge, loaded with rock salt shells. He watched the Alpha’s weapons, waiting for the brilliant blue tips to soften to a muddy yellow. When all three had switched to stun mode, he let the droids take the lead.
“Dr. Spencer!” he called out. Some trees and bushes scuttled away from the sound. If not for the Alphas, he would feel naked with only rock salt rounds, which he knew would tickle most predators and trees on New Earth. He’d grown used to nature’s rustling on the soft ground. Terranova now hosted thousands of trees, shrubs, and ground vegetation, which had migrated into their territory in exchange for human goods. The gates were left open regularly to admit more plants and small animals. They placed dry human waste in small heaps as an attractant. Most trees and shrubs tested the new real estate by sending their roots to feel out the perimeter hesitantly as if expecting an attack, then when it proved safe, they plodded in and made themse
lves at home.
Jondis called out every few yards, his voice gathering urgency as they neared the humanoid. It had to belong to someone from the expedition because, to their knowledge, the only humans to survive the two-millennium freeze were his people. Or so Jondis believed. He kept his shotgun at the ready, never too careful.
“Doctor! Miller—”
“Here. Help,” came an uneven voice, very near, towards a stone conglomeration that thickened in the distance.
“Where are you? Alphas, locate him!”
The droids homed in on the heat signature. They shuffled over small rocks and moved around large boulders with an insect's dexterity.
Jondis had to run to keep up. Crowds of plantlets and vines whisked away in a frenzy.
“Do you require assistance, Doctor?” the first Alphas inquired.
“Yes. Oh God. Yes,” a depleted voice said.
The Alphas helped the doctor up. He came to his feet, moaning and thanking the Alphas. He'd taken shelter under two yawning boulders. His face ashen, his eyes hollow, and his lips pale. Jondis knew the man had to be beside himself. No one dared stay overnight in the thick, savage jungle, not only because of animals but also the plants themselves.
"Doctor, thank heavens! Is the suit active?"
"No, it's broken.”
Jondis scanned the doctor to check for injuries, while the Alphas supported him. Other than dehydration he appeared unharmed. “What happened to the others?”
The doctor reached out and snatched the water flask Jondis intended on offering. His quivering hands wrestled with the lid. He tossed his head back and devoured the precious liquid, his trembling lips releasing some of the water.
Jondis watched with empathy, as the doctor’s dirt creased throat rose and fell. What were they thinking sending the Doc out here; he's too old for this. "Doctor, what has befallen you and the others?"