Dangerous Evolution

by Vann, Gregg

  Rroske spent the entire time pouring over the research data from Seveq. Occasionally, it would mutter something to itself, or make a note on a separate console, but it made no further attempts to speak with us.

  Val and I passed the time talking to one another; about our pasts, some of my earlier cases, the war, even Natasha. She was a good listener and the words flowed easily. I knew this was helping her stay calm—to not dwell on our situation—but I had my own selfish reasons as well.

  Using a piece of fabric she’d ripped off her dress, Val pulled her hair back into a ponytail, allowing me to see her eyes as we spoke. They were not only a beautiful shade of blue, but full of intellect and compassion. Those eyes coaxed me into talking about things I’d never discussed before.

  Including children.

  We talked about our shared infertility due to the Permalife treatment…and the regret it caused; about how we’d traded the ability to create life, for the gift of immortality. Even though we were newly acquainted, we spoke like old friends do, and it felt good. I realized that she was, quite literally, a captive audience, but I knew that she was enjoying our conversation as well.

  Stinson spent the entire time sleeping, while Doctor Sa pressed its face against the force shield, straining to see what information Rroske was salivating over—trying hard to figure out what it was working on.

  A shrill buzzer sounded, and Rroske snapped to attention—accessing an image from outside the ship. The Sentient displayed it on the large screen in front of it; from our position in the corner of the room, we had an excellent view.

  A small section of the Na’ardeen’s hull was visible in the bottom, left corner of the image, but the rest of the screen was filled with a colored graphic, superimposed over this area of space. It detailed the location of an immense black hole, and even though it wasn’t visible to the naked eye, I felt a primal uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. Anyone in their right mind would, human or Sentient.

  Rroske magnified a section of the grid and a tiny object came into focus. “Safe and sound,” it said. It left the screen set at that magnification, and within a few minutes, we were close enough to see details of the object more clearly–well objects, actually.

  One of the structures appeared to be a combination of two Transit engines and a conventional sub-light drive system; I’d never seen anything quite like it. Maybe it was some new Sentient technology that we hadn’t seen yet. Whatever it was, it was active, holding station at the edge of the event horizon—a second, smaller object was tethered to it.

  The second piece of the strange configuration was a silver ellipsoid, a little more than two meters long. The engines held it in place like a fishing lure, waiting to catch something coming out of the singularity. A thin metal line was the only thing keeping it from being sucked into the gaping hole. It was an absurd setup with an indecipherable purpose.

  Thov’s voice broke in over the intercom system.

  “Doctor Rroske, if you will send the coded signal we can move to intercept your experiment.”

  “Sent,” it replied, waving a hand over the console.

  The engine array began to increase thrust, its movement obvious as it travelled across the artificial grid overlain onto the blackness of space. It was pulling away from the singularity—through the ergosphere—and into normal space. I could tell from the positional readings that the Na’ardeen was moving to meet the probe, or whatever it was.

  Rroske engaged the communication system. “Please have the package brought directly to my lab after retrieval. Do not open it under any circumstances. I will remind you again that The Consensus and Science Council both have directed you to follow my orders in this matter.”

  Thov didn’t dignify Rroske’s admonition with a reply, but the doctor nonetheless looked happy as it turned to face us. “Soon, you will have all of the answers you wish, Doctor Sa. And as for you, my special human guests, you will prove very useful in testing my latest creation.”

  Its smile faltered. “The virus is not very original I fear. In all honesty, I should admit that it’s heavily derived from Doctor Evans’ re-aging research.”

  Val came alive; her fear was gone, replaced by anger and indignation. “My work!” she said. “What purpose could you possibly have for my work with the Permalife antigen? And how did you get it?”

  “All in good time, Doctor Evans.”

  Rroske walked over to a refrigerated wall cabinet, withdrawing a small metal box with two locking clasps on the front of it. With the container gripped in one hand, the Sentient walked to the door controls and disengaged the internal locks. The door slid open, and it leaned out to ask the two soldiers outside to come in.

  As the soldiers waited impatiently, Rroske returned to the work console and scanned through some information. “Here we are,” it said. “Doctor Evans and Commander Malik are the two oldest. Bring them out, and strap them down to the medical beds.”

  “What are you playing at, Rroske?” I demanded.

  “I’m not playing at anything, Commander. I have never been more serious about anything in my life.”

  I communicated my intentions to Stinson with a single look; a look anyone in the military would immediately understand. He gave me a slight, barely perceptible nod, signaling that he would be ready. We weren’t about to let this Sentient dissect us.

  The two soldiers walked across the room, stopping directly in front of the shield. One of them bent down to deactivate it from the generator panel, while the other stared at us with its bracer arm outstretched. When the force shield dropped, Stinson and I leaped at them both, each attacking the one closest to us.

  I remember a loud, buzzing pop, then feeling like a brick wall had fallen on me. I fought against the crushing weight, struggling to remain conscious. I could breathe, but just barely; my heart was beating erratically, trying to force its way through my ribcage to escape the current. The soldiers had shocked us into paralysis as soon as we’d come in contact with them.

  I regained enough of my wits to berate myself, nice plan dumbass.

  I was extremely dazed, but remained conscious, feeling the soldiers roughly lift and throw me on one of the medical tables. Through watery eyes, I saw them place restraints around my wrists and legs, but couldn’t feel the straps tighten. I managed to move my head to one side, and watched them place Val on a bed next to mine. As sensation started to return, numbness was replaced by pain and anger.

  Despite her fear, Val looked calm. She had finally found her center—achieved some sense of balance. You don’t get to be as old as we were without seeing a good bit of unpleasantness. She’d witnessed violence and death—especially during the war, and she’d seen plenty of mankind’s propensity for self-centered behavior, usually at the expense of others. Life in general could be a real kick in the ass, and Val had seen it at its worse. But she was tough, I realized, and proving to be more resilient than I’d imagined.

  “What are you doing to them?” Stinson yelled from behind the re-established force shield; he was lying on the ground in pain, but still defiant.

  Rroske walked over to us, carrying the little metal case. “Don’t be alarmed, Captain Stinson, they will be just fine.” The reassurance was so hollow; the lie so obvious, that Stinson didn’t bother replying. Doctor Sa knelt beside him and grabbed his arm, trying to help him stand.

  Rroske checked my restraints, then placed the container at the foot of the bed. “This won’t hurt a bit,” it said, opening the box to pull out a one-shot needle. The Sentient was quick, pressing the needle against my neck before I could even react. Not that I could actually do anything, I thought. I don’t know if it was the size of the needle, or the fact that I was still partially numb, but there wasn’t any pain. Before either of us could protest, Rroske pulled out a second needle and leaned over to inject Val. Whatever it was, we were both infected now.

  “There,” it said. “All done. Let me know if you feel any discomfort. I am not a barbarian after all.” Rroske’
s fake smile was more unnerving than the needles had been. It dismissed the two soldiers with a wave of its hand and they gladly moved to leave.

  As they were walking out, two other soldiers came in; pushing the ellipsoid I’d seen poised over the abyss of the black hole. “Excellent,” Rroske said. “Place it right next to our two human friends.”

  They wordlessly followed the doctor’s directions, pushing our medical beds closer together to make room for the container. The tingling in my hand was subsiding, and I felt it brush up against Val’s fingers.

  “Answers, Doctor Sa. I believe you wanted answers.” Rroske looked over at the soldiers just as they finished sliding the pod into position.

  “You two can go,” it directed, then followed them to the door—sealing it after they left. “They hate when I lock them out of the lab, but now we’ll be able to talk without interruption…or any eavesdropping.”

  It walked over to the strange container delivered by the soldiers, entering commands into a recessed panel hidden on the top of it. The pod was right beside me, and I could hear sounds of movement starting to come from inside—latches releasing, a good deal of whirling mechanical noise, and finally, the sound of air pressure equalizing.

  The lid started to open.

  “It looks like a coffin,” Val whispered.

  “Quite the opposite, Doctor Evans. If anything, it is more like a womb.”

  Rroske reached into the pod and removed a small, clear capsule. Its interior shrouded in some type of dense, gaseous mixture—hiding its contents from our view. The Sentient placed the container on a wall-shelf near our heads, then pressed a button on the side of it.

  As soon as the top slid aside, the sound of an infant crying came pouring out of the capsule.

  “You monster!” Val yelled. “You left a baby perched on the edge of a black hole!”

  “Calm down, Doctor, the container was well shielded. I had to make sure no one else could take the thing, and without the right code, the engines would have shut down—everything would have gone…well I’m sure you know.”

  “Bastard,” I said. “What kind of animal are you, Rroske, that you could do that to a child?”

  Ignoring me, it lifted the baby from the capsule and into our view; my breath caught in my throat; the child was blue. Not the color of oxygen deprivation, a vivid, glowing, royal blue. Minute black electrical pulses coursed across its body, and I recognized at once that it was a Sentient child. Val spoke before I had a chance to put the final piece of the puzzle in place.

  “The silicon based child,” she said in wonder.

  “Oh yes, Doctor Evans,” Rroske said. “It’s real, and the only one of its kind. For now.”

  Rroske took the child across the room—placing it into an automated crèche set in the wall near its work station. It bent over the enclosure and started hooking up an assortment of monitoring equipment—primarily fastening it to the child’s head and chest. The Sentient also connected tubes to provide nourishment and facilitate waste removal.

  From our position, with our heads elevated on the medical beds, Val and I watched the whole sordid ordeal. Rroske’s movements were callous and abrupt, no concern whatsoever for the child. It treated the baby like a test subject—the infant’s crying had no effect on the Sentient.

  “Stop! You son of a bitch,” I yelled.

  But Rroske ignored me—then Val as well when she continued to protest. The child’s screaming grew increasingly louder during the torment, not stopping until Rroske finally shut the enclosure, drowning out the crying. Our captor then walked over to the force shield and peered in at Doctor Sa. “That child is the next step in our evolution, Sa. Don’t you see it?”

  Rroske stared at the other Sentient, as if trying to will it into agreement. “Our future is freedom from this carbon-based biological taint staining our culture; freedom from the rampant augmentation that twists who and what we are.”

  Rroske pointed over at Val and me. “Look at them; their weakness and inherent frailty. Part of that filth resides in us. This child represents a chance to rid ourselves of that biological contamination; a chance to be pure Sentients.”

  “You’re insane,” Sa said with contempt, then spoke to Rroske as if it were lecturing a child. “The symbiosis is what gives us life, what makes us unique. Our distinctive composition is what makes us Sentient.”

  Rroske shook its head as Sa spoke, rejecting everything the doctor was saying; its eyes burned like a true zealot, impervious to actual facts or possible conversion. The Sentient’s mind had been made up, chiseled in granite, and then locked in a vault. It was clear that Rroske would never be brought to reason.

  I listened as the two argued about Sentient physiology and its implications, but as fascinating as it was to learn more about them—especially after so many years of questions and tension—I was growing tired of being ignored.

  “You used The Pure Way to capture Doctor Evans,” I interjected. “Using a tissue sample from that child to lure her into a trap. Why?”

  Rroske turned its attention to me and smiled smugly. “I wasn’t using The Pure Way, Commander; I am The Pure Way.”

  “What?” Sa said.

  “Oh yes, Doctor Sa, I founded the organization—quietly of course—a very long time ago.” Rroske looked up at the ceiling, clasping its hands together in front of itself. “I have to say that it’s my proudest achievement. Well, it’s right up there with The Human Studies in any event.”

  The Human Studies, I thought to myself, disgusted. Sa mentioned that Rroske was the only Sentient to ever experiment on intelligent beings. This was the doctor who’d dissected the humans unfortunate enough to enter Sentient space.

  “When I was younger and confused about the truth,” it continued, “I was rejected for augmentation. There was something wrong with my internal current fields they said—something to do with inadequate synergy between my two systems. A failure of your vaunted symbiosis, Doctor.”

  Rroske looked at Sa for understanding or empathy, and found neither. I could see the madness and delusion in its face; Doctor Sa was right, Rroske really was insane.

  “But I didn’t let it stop me,” it continued, “Oh no. If anything, I excelled…without any cheats or mechanical deformities. I used my mind and hard work, rising to my post at the Science Council naturally.”

  “Very inspiring,” I said sarcastically. But I suspected that Rroske really obtained its post by doing the science that others refused to do. “But why take Val? She was already working on a cure for the virus.”

  Rroske turned to look at me, its expression sober. “Because I needed her help in determining why my accelerated evolution agent failed, and why it’s killing everyone.”

  “Your accel…evolution…you created the virus!” Sa yelled.

  “I created an agent to help us shed our carbon-based impurities; a way to progress to a purely silicon-based physiology, just like this child.” The Sentient’s face regained its former confidence and pride. “In fact, I used it as a template.”

  So Rroske was responsible for dooming the Sentients, and now humanity as well by shifting the blame to us. Despite the restraints, I lifted my head, giving Rroske a good look at the anger written across my face. “Explain your progress to the millions that have already died, and the billions more lives that will be lost in this war.”

  “Billions of humans maybe. Thanks to the research done on Seveq, I’ve been able to pinpoint the problem and can now fix the agent. I thought Doctor Evans would be helpful in locating the biological failure point; I was right.”

  Now it was Val’s turn to be outraged. “I can’t believe you’d develop an agent like that without a cure.”

  “Of course not, Doctor Evans, I had a cure all along. What I needed was a way to make my agent work.”

  “You could have saved all those people?” I said incredulously.

  The sight of all those bodies on Seveq swept into my mind—actual pictures and video triggered by my recording
implant. I struggled against the restraints, feeling the plastic straps bite into my wrists, but it was no use.

  “You’re no scientist, Rroske, and you’re certainly no patriot. You are nothing more than a base murderer and you will answer for all of the deaths you’ve caused.”

  “If I do, Commander, it certainly won’t be at your hands.”

  Rroske went to its work station and checked the screen. “Perfect! It’s multiplying just as I’d hoped.”

  “What did you inject us with?” Val demanded.

  “That injection was phase two of my plan—the part borrowed from your work, Doctor Evans. I took the liberty of modifying your Permalife antigen by accelerating the effect—essentially adding a time limit. I also made it highly communicable, using the same multiple transmission methods I’d developed for my evolution agent. It will be able to spread unchecked to every corner of human space.”

  “Adding a time limit?” I asked, “What does that even mean?”

  “It means,” Val explained, “that every human will eventually be exposed to the antigen—actually a virus now, and start to age. The time limit will cap the maximum years those infected will live at…how many years, Rroske?”

  “You do understand.” Rroske sounded surprised. “Twenty, maybe twenty five years before a complete systemic shutdown is triggered. I thought that would give it enough time to spread throughout the different Sectors before anyone pieced together what was really happening. If my calculations are correct, and I admit there are some unknown variables, every human should be dead within a hundred years—war or no war.”

  I leaned my head back hard into the stiff pillow and clenched my fists—nails digging into the palms of my hands. I could envision Rroske’s thoughts, the madness that propelled its actions forward. The virus would leave the galaxy safe for Rroske’s new Sentient race; no further problems or pressures from humanity. The Sentients would be the single sapient species left, and we would become a distant memory of marginal inconvenience.

  Rroske walked over to stand beside our beds and addressed Val directly, “I must say, Doctor Evans, your niece has been most helpful during this entire affair. When Woz approach her, explaining that The Pure Way and God’s Plan both shared the same goals, she became a veritable fountain of information. About your research, your personal communications, Marie Stinson’s DNA…”