Primal Estate: The Candidate Species

by Samuel Franklin

  Synster touched something on his desk and a panel popped up in front of him. “You need to give us something, and you need to ask something of us.”

  Rick’s heart was racing.

  “First, you will designate a family member that we will take, in harvest. You have thirty seconds. Demonstrate to us, Rick, your commitment.” Synster stared at him, waiting for the answer.

  Rick’s head was pounding. He thought back to his Marine Corps days when some terrorists he’d captured told him they’d heard Marines had to kill a member of their family as part of their training. He’d had a rotten night sleep, nothing to eat yet today. And he felt like crap. His stress level was soaring, and he could feel his heartbeat in his extremities. Nothing could make him give up Carson. Maybe this is some kind of test. Maybe what he could ask from them was the promise that they wouldn’t harvest the person he designated. No, that’s stupid. That’s Hollywood shit. They really want somebody, as a test. His parents? A cousin? All his cousins had kids. And they needed his brother.

  “Fifteen seconds. Answer or we take your son.”

  Rick’s mind swirled. His thinking would be clear right now if it weren’t for Tony’s call yesterday, and all the trouble caused by…

  “Sarah,” Rick said. “Take my wife, my son’s mother, Sarah.” Rick remembered that Synster didn’t know that humans frequently don’t like their lawyers. Maybe he didn’t track on the whole divorce thing either. Rick took the chance and called her his wife instead of ex-wife. “She would be willing to sacrifice for this cause,” Rick lied, “and I would be willing to give her to you, to save Earth from Managed Collectivization.”

  Synster studied his panel. He seemed to be checking a few things. “She lives in Denver. Why?”

  “She works there.” It was an honest statement and Rick hoped he’d buy it. Hopefully any stress he measured would be interpreted consistently with what they’d expect. At any rate, he’d bought some time.

  “Done. The order is being given now. She will be dead in ten minutes. You have made the decision.” Synster touched a portion of his panel. “Now you must take something from us, and no, it cannot be a weapon of ours. Don’t be stupid. It must be something of the Earth.” Unknown to Rick, the Provenger considered the taking of an object or receiving of a favor as an overt demonstration of commitment between two parties. The Provenger had seen this process of bonding in their studies of human culture and erroneously thought it carried the same weight.

  Rick thought. What an opportunity! Still trying to overcome the mixed feelings about the demise of Sarah, he realized she would no longer be a problem regarding custody over Carson. His mind still racing, Rick then concentrated on what he could do now, for his cause. Then a brilliant idea flashed into his mind.

  “When you gave me a tour of the ship, I saw, from a distance, a woman with hair, long hair. She was obviously a human. I choose to take her.” And in an attempt to be consistent with the low opinion Synster must have of his primitive species, Rick added, “I have given you my wife, and I will need a replacement.”

  Synster was shocked. He didn’t expect such a request. First, he wasn’t even aware that Rick knew of Shainan’s existence. That’s what happens when you give a tour, he thought. You try to show them things to impress, and they see them. Then Synster reflected on whether she would be available for him to give. After making this show of force and authority, he could not deny Rick’s request. It would make him look weak. And even though she was “of the Earth” as Synster had formerly stipulated, she was in their custody and the responsibility of her keeper. He was undecided and was aware of Rick’s stare. This human seemed to have quickly turned the tables on him.

  “Turn away from me. Face the other direction,” Synster commanded, as if speaking to a child.

  Rick thought it strange, but he obeyed. He pondered, If he buys all this, it means he is dealing with me as he would deal with a Provenger. This is all very bizarre. He’s treating me as if he knows that my customs are the same as his. But they aren’t. This whole face away from me thing is weird, too. I think I’ve caught him off guard.

  Synster knew he could deny this request based on some kind of reasoning that he could make sound legitimate, but he allowed himself a few more moments to think. He knew that Shainan’s keeper was not being compensated for her and was responsible for her until she died. He’d already been paid for the sleep studies they’d wanted, and they’d been completed. He had no reason to want to keep her. She had been carefully managed and knew nothing of the ship or its operation.

  Synster was also aware that Shainan and the fighter, Yootu, had been allowed to see each other. As the science director, he’d approved the visits himself. He knew that the visits were continuing and that they both enjoyed them. Synster began to hatch a plan. He could achieve a number of things simultaneously.

  By giving Shainan to Rick, he could demonstrate his power to Rick and incur Rick’s obligation. He could simultaneously incur the obligation of Shainan’s keeper by alleviating him of her expenses. Why he would ever need this, he had no idea. But that was not his main objective. What Synster really wanted to do was get Yootu off the ship to eliminate Provenger females’ access to him. Since Yootu and Shainan had been put together and they had behaved well and enjoyed their visits, they had been promised more. Synster saw his opportunity.

  If Yootu was to hear of Shainan’s release to Earth, never to see her again, chances are he would become unmanageable. This would put Bryock, Yootu’s keeper, in a tough situation, being responsible both for Yootu’s behavior and his upkeep. Later, Synster would go to Bryock and propose that Yootu be released to Earth. Synster would tell Rick to take him. Yootu was an idiot anyway, and had been isolated on the ship even more than Shainan. Both of them only spoke their own ancient language. If it was even possible for them, it would take years before they would be able to effectively communicate anything about the Provenger, and by then it would be too late.

  If he could accomplish this, then the source of Synster’s anger would be removed. Vwannan would never see Yootu again. She would never again be able to embarrass them. Hopefully, this could be accomplished before any rumors began to circulate.

  Without knowing for certain if he could get it done, Synster replied, “And so it is. She will be returning with you. You will be responsible for her. If she raises any suspicion on your planet, under the laws pertaining to this Project, she will be terminated. She speaks an ancient language and you will not be able to communicate with her. You will be expected to complete all your duties while caring for her. She will be briefed by us before she leaves. Do you understand?”

  Rick was stunned. How could Synster be so stupid? Then Rick thought about it. Maybe she was an imbecile. Maybe she’d been given a lobotomy or a memory wipe of some kind. He started to regret this request. He was hoping he’d be able to learn something about the Provenger from her, but Synster gave her up so easily he began to doubt he could.

  “Yes, I understand,” Rick said in a defeated tone, half pretended and half real. “My wife won’t be hurt, will she?” he asked with genuine concern.

  “She will be dead before she even knows she is being taken. She will be as you were when you are transported, but never wake.”

  Synster reviewed a few rules with Rick regarding their relationship, what his responsibilities were and what was expected of his behavior. He would be allowed to inform certain people of the Provenger existence, but only to further his operational purposes, and he was to be responsible for their behavior afterward. They would be terminated if they caused problems, and his contract would be reviewed and he could be terminated.

  Rick was then asked for his list of those he wanted to exempt from the harvest. He made it as extensive as he could. He included everyone in the town of Cortez, then expanded it to the entire county. Synster would not allow him to include anyone living beyond that. Rick included all of his immediate coworkers and friends who lived elsewhere, and all his immed
iate and distant family members that Synster would allow him to justify. Rick even surprised himself by naming his divorce lawyer in Denver, not because he liked him but because it would suit Synster’s preconception. Rick was glad that he could save so many but felt evil for having named Sarah.

  Rick was then put in a separate holding cell that was void of all objects, even a light fixture, and yet the room was still lit. He was tired from the day before and honestly didn’t know what was to become of him. He always had to leave open the possibility that he’d said or done something that Synster didn’t like, and would be terminated. When the solid door closed behind him, it both looked and felt like all the walls in the room. After pacing around the room for a few minutes, Rick realized he’d lost track of where the door was. He started to get anxious and realized this was not good use of his time. Rick sat, then stretched out on his back in the middle of the floor, and immediately fell asleep.

  Something woke him, and he turned his head to the left, toward a sound. Still on the floor, on his back, Rick tried to recover quickly from his deep sleep. He had been exhausted. He opened his eyes as wide as possible as though this would make them work better. He slowly began to focus on a form in front of him. He thought at first he was dreaming. It was the form of a woman. He sat up, then quickly stood, feeling as though he’d been caught snoozing at the office.

  This must be her, he realized. I’m still on the ship; this must be her. The door closed behind her, and she looked back for a moment, as if to acknowledge the end of an era. Her movement was slow and confident. Rick hadn’t thought about this meeting because he didn’t know if it would actually happen. These guys don’t waste any time, he thought. He took a better look at her as his eyes fully focused, then said aloud, only half joking, “Good God, I’ve hit the jackpot.”

  “Googo-divitdejikbot,” she said.

  Shainan was beautiful, about five foot ten, standing eye to eye with Rick. The light brown eyes observed him with a cautious but curious confidence. She was not happy; that he could tell. For a moment, Rick thought it possible she might attack him. Her frame was imposing and her figure, covered by a tight white t-shirt and shorts, was near perfection, if there even was such a thing. She had long, thick, auburn hair that was loosely braided, hanging down her left side. It meandered to her waist. Her complexion was a healthy peach, looking like she may have recently been to the beach. Rick wondered where the tan lines might be. He mused, Rick, you’re now the proud owner of a twelve-thousand-year-old Paleolithic, twenty-something, red hot super model. How am I going to manage this?

  Then, recovering completely from his sleep, in a flash, he remembered Sarah. He saw her when she was a young woman, when he loved her and she loved him. He saw them all together when Carson was just born, playing with their baby in a field of wildflowers that grew near his parent’s house. He wanted that time back. He wanted that time back and nothing else. Tears began to form in his eyes as he imagined she might already be dead and any small hope for reconciliation that he might have had was now gone forever. A tear broke from his lower lid and ran down his cheek.

  Shainan knew his pain, whatever it was. She could sense his humanness and knew he must be feeling any one of the hundreds of losses she had felt over the last ten seasons. She walked to him, held him, and they grieved together.

  Too rooms away from Shainan and Rick, on a slab, lay the body of Sarah, along with four hundred others, the gray matter of their brain scrambled by the action of a focused disruptive energy wave. They were ready for processing. It had only been one hour since Rick had uttered her name.

  In that moment of compassion expressed by this person completely unknown to him, Rick’s mind cleared. For the first time, he could really think. He knew who he would now have to be. Energy seemed to flow from her, and he felt more human, more of the Earth than he imagined possible. He would relinquish all thoughts of normal life or behaviors, he would be determined to adjust to this situation at all costs to himself or any living thing.

  How could he fight them? They seemed all powerful. He recalled the magpie that landed in the tree next to his Jeep. He thought about his hunt and the lion. A predator who is less technologically advanced can overcome, but it has to be more cunning, more patient, and obtain and use as much advantage from its foe as possible. Like the lion, he must not see or be seen; he must be the ghost whose spoor is silence. He must infiltrate the Provenger as deeply as possible, figure out how to gain Synster’s trust, and gain as much as possible. It will take time, patience, and deceit. He must consider himself dead from this moment on so he can move forward without fear or compassion for any living thing, like the lion, the ghost. His spoor must be silence. He must let his instinct and intellect guide him, but not his morality. He must be unpredictable. This would be the only way to ultimately save humanity. Be as Earth animalistic as possible, because this is what they are least likely to understand. He devised a plan, simple and adaptable. Their weaknesses must become his weapons.

  Chapter 19

  YOOtu’s last date

  Yootu sat calmly in his apartment cell waiting for his visit with Shainan. This time he’d decided he wanted them both to act as if they were home with their tribe. He had it all planned. He braided his hair into two strands on the side of his head and tied them back away from his face, with a strip of cloth he ripped from his clothes. He’d bathed for her and rubbed one of the lemons he’d ordered in his hair to make it smell like Earth, rather than using the colognes the Provenger provided.

  He’d also ordered a large fish, and it was laying on the table next to his cooking surface. That would be their meal, but he also would act like he’d just returned with a kill. They would pretend to skin it together, and he would build the imaginary fire bigger to accumulate the ashes to cook in. She would prepare the meat and tell him of all the other foods she had found that day and how she was preparing them. They would talk about the children they would have and the things they would teach them.

  Yootu had been thinking about this since her last visit and couldn’t get his mind off of it. He’d gone over every detail. He could almost smell the fish cooking and feel her soft skin next to his. She was born before the great flood and remembered the time when the Provenger did not control their lives. Though Yootu had been born after their arrival, he had never cooperated nor followed Provenger ways. Yootu and Shainan were souls of the same spirit.

  He’d not had red meat or taken prepared food from the Provenger almost the entire time aboard the Ship, since the time he realized they were eating people. He’d always insisted on meats that he could identify as a species that was non-human. And he always cooked it himself. For this reason, he ate mostly fish, a staple of his people for much of the season anyway.

  The Provenger loved their meat in all forms, and accessing variety was not a problem for Yootu. He had even experimented with meats from other solar systems for a short time. He would cook it well, then eat a small portion of it, waiting a day or two. This was the way of his tribe with all new foods. After days of focus on how he felt, he would either continue if he felt well, or stop that food at the slightest sensation that something was off.

  One day while experimenting with something new, he had a bad experience. He was cooking a small portion of meat from some unknown animal from some unknown planet. It had been frozen when he put it on the hot surface, and he had turned his back to choose some seasonings he was allowed. When he faced it again, the chunk was trying to crawl across the cooking surface, making a kind of sucking sound that made Yootu feel that it might be in pain. He suspected some of his handlers had provided him with this new kind of meat, knowing he would find it horrifying. He disposed of it quickly and never experimented again. From that point on, he always asked for his food whole, so that he could identify exactly what it was. And he always requested something from Earth. He determined that he was not made, body or mind, for anything foreign to his world.

  When Shainan arrived, they would live a day a
t home as a family. He couldn’t recall wanting anything more since he’d been captured, other than to be freed. The knowledge that she would soon arrive had him giddy, like a child, and he began to think that, perhaps, if he could spend it with Shainan, his life might take a turn and mean something. Perhaps the misery he’d endured would be infused with some joy.

  Bryock approached one of his observation windows. The look on his face made Yootu snap out of his fairytale and realize where he was. A feeling of dread overcame him. Bryock told Yootu, in his ancient language, that Shainan would not be here to see him. She had been released back to Earth and was gone for the foreseeable future.

  Yootu’s first reaction was an overwhelming conflict of the rage at his confinement and not having control, combined with immediate joy that she was free. Then, in a moment, he became suspicious that none of it was true. He tried to question Bryock, but he would only repeat what he’d already said. Yootu begged to see her one last time but was repeatedly told by Bryock that she was already gone.

  Slowly, waves of emotion, grief then anger then denial, all combined with the frustration of his captivity and hit him with tremendous inertia. A searing heat seemed to develop in the core of his body. In a rage, with his hands clenched before his face and his soul escaping through his screams, he looked at his arms through eyes stuffed with blood and fire. He thought he could see the sweat boiling from his skin. The barbarity in him grew, and he felt he couldn’t bear to live. Yootu hurled himself across the room at the unbreakable door of his cell, trying to get to Bryock, hitting it head first with such force that it gave way under his impact. His legs giving out below him, he fell back stumbling and collapsing to his knees. He wanted only death or revenge. In a delirium, his thoughts were of a vow: he would kill the next Provenger he could get his hands on, or die trying.