Dangerous Evolution

by Vann, Gregg

  “Agreed,” Prescott said, nodding his head.

  Captain Tizo’s shuttle was the next to land, and Thov greeted the Sentient amiably. The introductions went smoothly enough with Thov taking the lead, but I got the impression that Tizo was continually looking around for snipers, or at the very least, some sign of a yet un-sprung trap.

  I know his bracer-equipped guard was.

  Captain Thompson of the Titan commanded the last shuttle, rounding out our eclectic ensemble, and prompting yet another round of introductions. He’d been designated the Liaison Officer for Inter-Sector Cooperative Defense; it was his job to debrief Prescott and Stinson for the ISCD-then consult with me on humanity’s next actions during this crisis. Per my recommendation—made in my initial report to Prima Sector during Transit—I also knew that he had another mission. Just as I knew that two of my fellow Special Inquisitors would be landing in a fast Transit craft within minutes to take Lesa into custody for questioning. And to help me put this whole episode into focus for a detailed report for all seven Sector governments.

  Thompson spoke as we started our walk to the lab. “Captain Thov, I wonder if I might have a moment of your time when it’s convenient.”

  “Of course, Captain Thompson.”

  Thov looked puzzled, and the request made Captain Tizo even more suspicious. To his credit, Thompson picked up on this and invited Tizo as well. Good, I thought. It looked like they were going to pursue my recommendation to ask Captain Thov to become an ambassador for the Sentients—establishing a formal and open line of communication between our two races.

  The trip was a short one, but the dome’s scenery was so fascinating that it elicited comments from human and Sentient alike. When we reached the residence section, Thov and Tizo both pointed out Val’s colorful garden; it was clear that they’d never seen anything quite like it.

  Captain Prescott looked confused when we arrived at the small, shed-sized entrance to the underground laboratory. But as we descended the steps, emerging into the enormity of the underground space, he smiled in understanding.

  We found Val and Doctor Sa at different terminals, discussing quantities of chemicals and suspension mediums. Val was also teaching Sa how to interface with computers and equipment designed for humans, and I could tell that the Sentient was having a hard time adjusting to the wildly different input methods.

  An unintentional segregation occurred when Stinson and Prescott joined me at Val’s side to observe the work, while the Sentients flocked to Doctor Sa. Thompson, thinking smartly and probably in furtherance of his mission, went with the Sentients. I saw the data disk copied from Rroske’s files sticking out of a makeshift adapter attached to Sa’s console; the homespun interface undoubtedly devised to merge the two disparate technologies.

  Val spoke loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “I would rather have more time for trials and refinement, but we just don’t have that option.”

  “I’m afraid I have to agree, Doctor,” Sa replied. “But this will work. We can refine it later if need be.”

  According to the calculations we’d made in Transit, factoring in the materials we had on hand, and how quickly our batches could be delivered—after two days we’d lose any benefit from the operation. At that point, the more distant Sentient systems would be able to produce their own medicine faster than we could transport it to them.

  “Then let’s start the run and get the cure off to the closest Sentient worlds,” Val said. She looked around at everyone, a pained expression on her face. “The distant systems will suffer a much higher mortality rate.”

  Thompson asked, “Do your estimates take into account the Sector ships we’ve authorized?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Val replied.

  The mood was somber, but what more could be done? Millions of lives would be saved or lost based on distance, the laws of physics, and the restrictions of technology. The fact that we were ‘doing our best’ would be little consolation to the Sentients we couldn’t reach in time.

  But how do you console the dead?

  *****

  Over the next two days, the laboratory machinery never stopped. When warning lights flashed red, someone stepped in immediately to remedy the problem and keep the production going. Even Captain Tizo helped out on occasion, eventually dismissing its guard to wait on the shuttle.

  Val practically lived at the lab, sleeping on a cot in a semi-secluded storage room—only taking time away from monitoring production and sampling test batches to spend a few moments with the Sentient child. She and Sa had carefully disconnected it from the tubes Rroske had cruelly inserted into its body, replacing the unnatural measures with real food and sanitary wrappings. Val took the baby out and held it occasionally, and in those moments, she looked happy…content. The child relaxed her, I realized. It gave her peace.

  “How is it?” I asked, returning to the lab from a meeting with the other inquisitors.

  “Fine,” she replied, then gave me a mischievous look, “But you need to get used to saying him.”

  “Him?”

  She smiled. “This Sentient has gender.”

  Doctor Sa looked away uncomfortably, then moved off to check some equipment.

  “How…interesting,” I said.

  “Isn’t it? He is unique…maybe in the entire universe.” Despite her obvious fatigue, her eyes were as bright as I’d ever seen them. “In another day or so, I should be able to move him into the main house.” She looked down at the child’s blue face, making no attempt to hide the emotion she was feeling, “Into his very own room.”

  There was no doubt that she’d deeply bonded with the child; she and I were growing closer as well. Even in the middle of all this chaos, we’d found a few meaningful moments to share. In fact, except for some brief meetings with the other Special Inquisitors, I never left her side.

  Stinson pointed out as much.

  During a conversation about allowing Sentient delegates aboard our ships delivering the cure, he’d caught me looking over at her…again.

  “I think she likes you too, Commander,” he chuckled.

  “Wha..oh,” I mumbled, “sorry.”

  “Don’t be, Ben. You know…you would be stupid not to pursue her, to make something out of this opportunity.” His face turned serious, “Why do you keep doing this job? You've done your time. Surely no one expects anything more from you, especially after this. Relax...retire.”

  “And do what?” I asked.

  He pointed at my ring...her ring; the symbol of my promise to Natasha.

  "Move on, Ben. Live."

  I gazed over and saw Val leaning over the child, once again in his improvised crèche. She was speaking to him in calm, reassuring tones, and the baby was drifting off to sleep. Stinson was right; I would be stupid not to take this chance at happiness. I felt the ring on my finger, maybe 114 years of grieving was enough. Maybe it was okay to be happy again.

  But what if I failed her too? What if she died?

  Then I remembered what Rroske had done to us. She was dying, and so was I, but not now—not for at least another twenty years. We could have a life in that time, a life together.

  And I was ready to live again.

  *****

  After two harried days of production and loading, every ship in orbit sped away on the life saving mission; the local space now as empty as it was silent. I strode through Val’s garden outside the main house, treading carefully so as not to trample any of the beautiful flowers. After so much activity and tension over the last week or so, I was having a hard time adjusting to the quiet of my new surroundings. I thought a walk might do me some good.

  Before leaving, Doctor Sa asked Val if it could return in the future—so they might collaborate on some other projects it had in mind. She had heartily agreed, and given the doctor an open invitation to come to the dome whenever it wished. For now though, Sa was leading the effort to spread the cure, along with the newly appointed Ambassador Thov. The Consensus deciding
that an open line of communication would be preferable to a continued pattern of silence.

  Misunderstandings could be fatal after all.

  Captain Prescott returned to the fleet—still holding position in the Vrent system—to mop up everything and make sure no further incidents occurred. Thompson and the other inquisitors also left, to file their respective reports to security and governmental entities throughout the Sectors.

  The SIs opted not to take Lesa with them, finding her guilty only of bad judgment. Breth was relieved, and Lesa couldn’t stop apologizing to Val for actions. For her part, Val pledged to make the aging antigen available to anyone that wanted it, hopeful that it would relieve some of the suffering caused by virtual immortality.

  The household was at peace.

  I stopped at the base of a large tree. It was the tallest one in the dome, sitting at the end of a meandering walkway of pavers carefully placed through the garden. Just past where its hungry roots leached the soil of nutrients, flowers spread out in a blaze of color. It was a beautiful spot.

  Perfect in fact.

  I removed the ring from my finger, taking it off for the first time in over a hundred years; since first being placed there by her delicate, trembling fingers—in that simple ceremony so long ago. At first, it didn’t want to come off, as if the past was struggling to hold on to me, but gently, slowly, I twisted it until it finally came free. I placed it in my palm and stared.

  It was a simple gold band, but had defined my life for ages.

  I squatted down and hollowed out a hole between two large roots at the base of the tree. The smell of fresh earth rose from the ground, mixing with the scent of flowers. I could feel a brisk, artificial breeze coming from the dome’s ventilation system. It moved across my face, and made the plants in the garden softly sway.

  “Goodbye, Natasha,” I said, and placed the ring in the hole, pressing it firmly into the moist soil.

  I looked at it one last time before covering it up with the loose dirt, then patted the earth down with the palm of my hand…firmly…finally. I reached over and picked the bulb off a yellow flower and placed it on top of the small earthen mound. Yellow had always been her favorite color.

  I stood up awkwardly, feeling a stiffening pain in my knees and back—my body rebelling against the rigors of recent events. I heard a voice call out behind me.

  “There you are.”

  I turned around and saw Val shuffling down the walkway, one hand holding the baby’s outstretched arm as it hobbled along, trying hard not to tumble over.

  “He’s walking?” I exclaimed.

  “Uhm…maybe more like me holding him up, but he’s not nearly as atrophied as I would have thought. He is one remarkable little bugger.”

  “Yes he is,” I said, smiling at the little guy. What kind of life will you have young man? A good one if I can help it.

  I walked up to the two of them, giving her a kiss and placing the baby’s other hand in my own.

  “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” I suggested, banishing every ache and pain from my body.

  Val leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, “Let’s.”

  “Have you thought of a name for him yet?”

  “I was thinking Del,” she said, and I smiled in agreement.

  “Evans?” I asked.

  “Malik…actually.”

  “My, you are progressive,” I laughed.

  As far as proposals went, it wasn’t very elaborate. But I didn’t care. It was still magnificent. We spent a few more minutes strolling through the garden, then I picked up the baby and put my arm around Val.

  And I took my family home.

  Epilogue

  We left Del in Breth’s capable hands, waving goodbye as we boarded the shuttle sent by Ambassador Thov. It’d been almost three months since I’d last seen the Sentient, but we spoke often via broadlink, coordinating the ongoing effort to cure the Sentients, and working together to establish permanent diplomatic ties.

  Following a quick ride into orbit, we docked with the Na’ardeen, then Val and I walked hand in hand through the ship and into the Central Hub.

  “Commander…Doctor Malik,” Thov said, “It is good to see you both again. I wish I could have attended the wedding but…”

  Val held up her hand. “We understand completely, Ambassador.”

  I nodded in agreement; Thov had bigger concerns. Stinson made it to the small service, as had a healthy and newly promoted Mendoza—even Captain Prescott showed up. But Ambassador Thov was spearheading the dispersal of the cure, while Doctor Sa attended to its manufacture. Val and I knew what they were up against.

  “What’s the latest news?” I asked.

  “No new cases have been reported, and all of the survivors have now been treated. Most are recovering. This frees us…finally, to perform the ceremony tomorrow.”

  “We’ve all done our best, Ambassador, I’m sure Del would have approved.”

  “I think you’re right, Commander.”

  Gos entered the hub, and Thov waved it over saying, “Please relax in your quarters during Transit. I will send for you when it’s time for the ceremony.”

  “Of course,” I replied, and we followed Gos out. I knew Thov had important duties to perform, and that the entire Sentient race would be watching.

  The next day we gathered again in the central hub, where the blue-green orb of Seveq loomed large on the viewscreen. The planet was shown at extreme magnification; obvious from the small amount of distortion occasionally twisting the image. A tiny, fast moving blip darted across the viewer—depicting the heavily armored probe’s position as it arched towards the system’s sun.

  “Getting approval from The Consensus wasn’t easy,” Thov said. “But in the end, the plan gained widespread support; especially after we offered to inter everyone killed by the virus on the planet.”

  The little vessel dove into the sun, and less than a minute later, the Mass Nullifier detonated. For a moment it appeared as if nothing had happened, but then the sun began collapsing in on itself—visibly shrinking in size.

  Then the explosion came.

  The word supernova didn’t do it justice. No word could. At this distance, even over broadlink, I knew that these events had already occurred, but it still felt intense and immediate. The system was gone. Seveq had been consumed by the blast—reduced to tiny fragments destined to roam the cosmos.

  And so had the Sentient dead, their souls now free.

  Speeding toward enlightenment.