Synster stepped out of his shuttle and into his home. The cloak shield on the main threshold sputtered as he walked in. Then it blinked out momentarily, allowing everyone outside a view directly into his great-room. He grew annoyed. Vwannan had one of the best apartments on the ship, and yet strangers moving by could stare in at their family.
“Vwannan, are you here?” He spoke softly as he entered, wanting to tell her immediately about her front cloak.
Vwannan was 115 years old and had taken many children from Synster. She had invited him into her dominion when she was only 33, and their relationship had gone well. The youngest two were currently living with them; the daughter, Nwella, 27, and the son Beyn, 7 years old. Provenger men were considered welcome at the home as long as they behaved. Vwannan had never cast Synster out.
Beyn ran up to Synster as he entered. “Father, I can see the planet. Isn’t it exciting?”
“Yes, Beyn. It is. I came home to watch it with you. I can only stay a short time. Then I have to get back to work, so let’s get a snack and watch.”
They sat at the window and looked out; Synster spoke to his wife as she entered the room. “Vwannan, my love, hello. Is the server working?”
“Yes, Synster. I’ll get you what I already made.”
“Father,” Beyn interrupted, “they said in school that we’re going to change this planet. What are we going to do?”
Synster thought about this question for a moment. He wanted to give Beyn an answer that would be a credit to his intelligence, but didn’t want to get too involved in the details. Beyn was still a child and hadn’t yet been initiated into even second tier social realities.
The Provenger cared very much for their children. They were considered sacred, and a formal system governed their social exposures and education. At various stages in their lives, they were considered prepared to encounter certain realities, intellectually and emotionally. Only the Provenger final tier initiated their young adults into the graphic and violent realities of the universe, as well as the true nature of their resource acquisition.
“The most intelligent species on this planet,” Synster explained to Beyn, “what we call the Subject Species, have no way to make their own food. They spend much of their time moving from place to place catching or collecting everything they eat.”
“That’s what we do!” Beyn interrupted, referring to their movement from planet to planet, collecting or harvesting resources.
“Why…yes, we do.” Synster continued. “But they don’t have cities or nation ships like we do. And to have them a species needs to be able to settle permanently in one place. They need to be able to establish an environment where things that they eat will grow, and grow enough for all of their members. So we are going to modify some of their plants, what we call the Candidate Species, so that they’ll grow them for food, in one place, rather than roaming around looking for it all the time. This way they can live in towns and cities. They will eventually grow smarter with their accumulated knowledge and be able to fully populate the planet with their kind.”
“If these plants are already theirs, and they already eat them, why do we need to modify them?” Beyn asked.
“Well the plants already grow on this planet, but they, the carnate, don’t really use them for food that much, only a little bit, every once in a while. So we’re going to change things so they have enough to eat it all the time,” Synster explained.
Beyn thought for a moment, “Father?”
“Yes, Beyn?”
“These animals are going to get sick. Mother said you shouldn’t eat the same thing all the time or you’re going to become ill. Remember the adventure we had at Celnius Five and all we had to eat was the Groktar fruit. I had diarrhea constantly and even pooped in my pants one night. I hadn’t done that for a long, long time, Mother said. Even Nwella got sick, and her face broke out in pimples that had these little white dots on them, and she was anguished because that boy wouldn’t talk to her. Father?”
“Yes, Beyn?”
“Did they ask us to do this?
“Do what?” Synster felt trouble ahead.
“Make these plants that will be food for them,” Beyn clarified.
“No.”
“So why are we doing it?
There it was, the question Synster was seeking to avoid. “Beyn, would you like some fruit? I promise you it’s not Groktar.”
“No, thank you. Mother was already making something else.”
Synster’s com-monitor vibrated, indicating a message. He accessed it with a touch to his shoulder. The meeting had been rescheduled to an earlier time. The scanners information would be back by then, but it would give him much less time to process the information collected.
“So, Father,” Beyn pulled on his father’s thick, muscled forearm. Synster wanted to avoid the last question, but it seemed Beyn had moved on. “Will the planet look the same?”
“Yes, from here it will look exactly the same.”
Vwannan walked up, leaned down, and put a plate on the table. In the center was a pile of roasted meat and four strips of gelatin-encased, air-fried fat on layers of green leaves. Surrounding the center, heaped around the edge, were blueberries and small, young Shinsta root with a curry sauce. Beyn began to eat.
Synster could still see in his wife the twenty-year-old he’d literally run into one day while in a rush to get to work. She’d been wearing her public gown and was coming down some stairs. He’d been facing away, trying to escape from an acquaintance who kept talking. He turned around quickly and took a step as she came down behind him. He planted his face right into her chest, between her bare breasts, in the exact manner of the marriage ceremony. They immediately laughed. Then both became embarrassed as they realized they were making a scene, and they went about their business. Every time after that when they made eye contact, they knew there were feelings between them. It took a considerable amount of time before Vwannan approached him and allowed him to identify himself.
She now had her home clothing on. Her skin tone was perfectly peachy-bronzed, glowing through the thin, white cloth, and a long, wide sash she wore around her slim waist barely covered her lean muscular legs. The sheer cloth draped over her chest and back caressed her as she moved. Synster was in awe of her physical beauty. Provenger bodies did not grow hair, and Synster admired the smooth surfaces of her skull, flawlessly shaped. Not all males were so lucky, he thought. Vwannan smiled to him with her dark brown eyes as she walked behind where he was sitting, draped her arms over his shoulders, and let her soft hands lay down over his bare chest. She sighed and looked out toward the new planet.
“I have to go sooner than I thought,” Synster told her.
“I thought that would happen,” Vwannan muttered.
Synster returned to the science deck. They had already been in orbit long enough for the scanners to begin sending data back. They were not in silence mode as there were no advanced civilizations to detect them. From all current analysis, it seemed little had changed on the planet surface. Nevertheless, the Algorithm would need to process all information prior to the vote. It seemed there would be just enough time. The massive amount of data was currently coming in and was being catalogued by the Algorithm. The full assessment couldn’t be made until it was complete. That would take a little more time.
Synster excused himself to his office. Once inside he glanced out his window at the planet. He felt as if everything was going well, but now, with the meeting being moved up and the data from the scans flowing in, he wondered if anything else would change.
He looked in the mirror on his wall and focused on his own eyes. If he looked deeply he could see the age. He was aged 153 Earth years. That sounded old, he thought. He was middle aged for a Provenger and still in excellent condition. His tenacity compensated for his slightly smaller than average stature. But at six two Earth measurement, he was only a little short of average, with enough muscle on him to make up for any deficiencies in height.
Synster made a mental note to find out why the meeting had been moved up. He suspected Ryvil had something to do with it. They were all working toward the same goal, yet Synster had never done anything for Ryvil, therefore Ryvil had no allegiance to him whatsoever. It was remarkable, really, how separate their careers had been, Synster thought.
As the scanning was being completed, it became clear there was something wrong with the existing plan. On his screen Synster reviewed some variables that were marked as problems. It seemed the weather patterns were a little too volatile to enable significant sedentary use of coastline by the Subject Species. Early permanent settlements would not be established in many productive coastal areas due both to this weather and the erratic tides in these locations. Weather or tides individually would not be a problem, but every half dozen years or so, seasonal weather trends and tidal patterns would conspire to develop into especially violent floods at certain coastal areas.
The Algorithm showed that this would periodically result in the near, or complete destruction of any early settlements at critical locations. The result would be no permanent settlements. These locations were vital to the Perpetuant Cycle’s success. Coastal trade was vital to the development, exploration, and propagation of the carnate to new productive areas. Something would need to be done and the answer was right in front of Synster. The Algorithm never identified a problem without providing an answer. The smaller of the two moons would have to be removed.
Synster couldn’t believe it. They’d never attempted anything this big to influence a biological system. How could the initial survey team have missed this, he wondered? For something this big, he’d need the specific approval of the Committee as well as assistance from the Tactical Director of the ship. Normally this authority would not be his, but fortunately the Union was wise enough to put the Tactical Director under Synster’s authority only for decisions being made for the purposes of the Project.
Streyn was first at the meeting, well before Synster arrived. It was his job to get a feel for the members’ mood and give Synster warning if anything had changed. The meeting needed to go well otherwise Ryvil might have an inroad to taking over the Project. If Natural Proliferation was not going to work, to meet their quotas in the time required, Ryvil would take over. Nobody really wanted Managed Collectivization, but it was required by their mandate. The planet surface would be completely molded to the will of the project requirements, and nothing would exist but that which furthered the project; an extremely intensive, expensive, and invasive prospect.
Streyn spoke to the major players in the courtyard to get their feel for the coming vote, then spoke with some of those most resistant to Synster’s plans. There weren’t many, and they were the ones who didn’t understand most of the science. He was well versed on Synster’s reasons and logic for what he had planned, and knew that no arguments against it could prevail.
Later that evening, after the Planning Committee vote…
Vwannan stepped into Synster’s office, impatient to discover the course of the project and, therefore, the course of their lives.
“My proposals were approved. The transcript from the meeting is there on the desk,” Synster pointed. “It’s the typical dry pitch you’ve been hearing all along, so you don’t really need to read it all unless, of course, you’re interested in the details about the deleterious effects on the subject species.”
Vwannan glared at him critically, head cocked to one side. “I want to know about everything that effects my life.” And she began to read.
*******************************
Preparations for Contact
TRANSCRIBED RECORD
Meeting of the
3-237 Perpetuant Cycle Project
Planning Committee-
Vote for the Approval
Candidate Species: Yngorn
Subject Species: Carnate
Project Minister:
Listen and be heard, this twenty-fourth meeting of the 3-237 Perpetuant Cycle Project Planning Committee, all who have Interest be here withheld of all selfish undoing, and maintain the good of the Nation for all and forever.
Science Director Synster:
As you've already been informed of in your brief, our objective of populating this planet through the advancement of their agricultural technology has been fully vetted by the Algorithm. A delicate balance of both the subject species population growth and technological impairment must be maintained to provide us with a maximum population increase over time without their posing a technological threat upon our return. As has been well established, any intelligent organism, provided with the efficiencies of agriculture, will have the time and the incentive to develop and accumulate technology. A hunting-gathering society, on the other hand, has the time but not necessarily the incentive or means to do the same.
If we merely provide the carnate with a wholesome, reliable, and nutrient rich source of food to generate the population numbers we need, the Algorithm has calculated that they will reach a technological advancement comparable to ours within a period of approximately five thousand years. We will be absent from this planet well beyond this time as the Union schedule demands. There is every indicator that we would return to a superior society technologically capable of defending itself. This would obviously be counterproductive. We are therefore compelled to include various progressive deleterious effects to our agricultural product introduction. These qualities are designed to obstruct health and productivity in their post-harvest years.
Our goal is that they be reasonably healthy and of proper carcass mass index during harvest age, without being advanced enough to defend themselves against us. Our return to this planet is scheduled for nine years, eight months, our time. Allowing for Accelerated Gravitational Time Dilation, we will return in approximately twelve thousand, eight hundred and ninety-three years planet time. We have the charter to proceed as necessary to generate a viable product. We must be aggressive. Let’s just say, any enemies we make now, won't be around to trouble us later.
General Reaction:
Laughter, Agreement, scale 6.5 out of 10
Synster:
Prior experience has shown that it is imprudent to rely on a single mechanism to achieve our ends, and we are best rewarded by implementing multiple strategies. We are fortunate in regard to this planet as we have a grass that grows throughout a great variety of regions that is highly receptive to genetic modification. We can amend its qualities to suit our needs. This enables us to implement not a single, but a multi-pronged approach with this one species to achieve our goals. There is other vegetation that offers potential, and will also be made available for agricultural development. But it is only this one grass that produces a grain, largely poisonous, and unpalatable to the carnate population, which we will modify to enhance its beneficial properties for the purposes of achieving production goals.
This grain, Yngorn, a subgroup of the broader wheat group, and named after the Provenger that discovered it, is currently of minor use to the subject species population, particularly in its non-germinated form, due to a great variety of deleterious effects it inflicts on carnate physiology. When these populations do find it in quantities that allow for its collection, they are only able to make use of its limited nourishment through soaking it long enough to sprout or have it ferment. In its un-sprouted grain form, it is hard on their teeth, dry in their mouths and almost void of flavor. It requires significant effort to access and collect, and considerable processing to be consumed. It is the last thing the subject species would perceive as food.
Despite these efforts, it is still detrimental as food, as it is small and course, imbued with toxins and proteins damaging to their digestive systems, and relatively deficient in nutrients even when processed. We will introduce strains that will eliminate the high degree of these negative aspects. The resulting plant will retain certain elements of its poisonous characteristics. These effects are by design. They bring us numerous benefits to help m
eet our goals. These benefits involve the deterioration of subject species health at a measured rate, with the majority of degenerative effects occurring after the subject species’ reproductive and harvest age. This will reduce individuals’ contributions to their society later in life when they are most knowledgeable and experienced, ensuring slow technological progress while simultaneously maintaining the level of civilization necessary for perpetuated population growth. We can count on this grain to provide general nutrient scarcity, impaired nutrient absorption, innate and adaptive immune system responses, and addictive tendencies.
PAUSE
Let me elaborate...
Primal Estate: The Candidate Species Page 2