Slave Empire - Prophecy

by T C Southwell

Commander Tallyn Varkesh shed his bio-suit and studied the image from the spy camera he had ordered to follow the girl. The wafer-thin crystal screen displayed a perfect picture, almost as if he was still there with her, just a few metres away. He recalled his amazement when he had first caught sight of her. Surprise had kept him rooted to the spot for several minutes, ignoring his first officer’s urgent queries. He still thought it amazing to find such a creature on this dying, polluted world, where half the people had degenerated to shambling monsters and the other half were undernourished and diseased.

  Although he had been sent to find her, he had not been prepared for his first encounter, and still marvelled at it. The sharp intelligence in her eyes had startled him. They had been filled with suspicion and fear, and she had exuded a kind of leashed savagery, the alertness of a wild animal mixed with the rational response of a civilised being.

  This girl was the one. He was more certain of it than he had ever been of anything. He sat behind his smooth white desk and stroked the book on it. Soft leather bound it, and gold trimmed its edges and depicted the name inscribed on its cover.

  The Olban, set down thousands of years ago, contained all the teachings and prophesies that had guided the Atlantean culture throughout the ages. This particular copy was, of course, a symbolic token. His home city’s high priest had given it to him before he left on this mission. It signified the sacred duty imposed upon him and his crew; a constant reminder of their objective. The Olban’s contents were, and always had been, available on the central data net. Over the centuries, many prophesies had come true, affirming the wisdom of the ancient seers who had foretold them.

  Now a grave and momentous prophecy was about to unfold, which could change the course of the Atlantean Empire’s fortune. He opened the book to the marked page and read the short passage that had brought him to this dying planet.

  ‘In the time of the junction of Perinus and Lodis, when the comet Vistar appears in the heavens, travel through the void to the dying world. Here will be found a golden girl child, pure of spirit and flesh, she who must be saved, so she may save Atlan.’

  That time had come. On Atlan, astronomers had seen the two stars, Perinus and Lodis, melt into one, and the comet had drawn its bright trail across the night sky. The High Council had sent all available ships in search of dying planets, and he had found this insignificant world, which Atlanteans called Ellath Three and the locals called Earth. He was sure this girl was the Golden Child of whom the prophecy spoke. All the other people were sick, dying or depraved, yet she was perfect.

  On the screen beside him, the girl peered around as if she sensed the spy-cam, even though she could not see it. Remarkable. Her harsh existence must have honed her senses to the point where she could detect the slight static discharge of the spy-cam’s shield. The spy-cam employed a fluctuating stress shield that warped the light around it, effectively making it invisible to the naked eye, and it floated high above her on a tiny anti-gravity coil.

  Touching a crystal, he called the laboratory. Professor Rasham’s mild, cultured face appeared on another screen, looking, as he always did, as if he had just been pulled through a hedge backwards, his thinning grey hair standing out in a wild halo.

  Tallyn suppressed a smile. “Professor Rasham, have you the results of the air samples you took?”

  Rasham’s eyes sparkled. This was his favourite subject. “Why yes, Commander. Basically, it’s similar to our atmosphere still, in spite of the pollution, although that is a major difference, of course. There’s less oxygen than is desirable, and the pollution factor is high. Methane, ammonia, carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide gases are in far higher concentrations than is good for a person. The ozone layer is breaking up rapidly now, and the ultra violet and infrared radiation is getting bad.”

  “Projections, Professor?”

  The professor harrumphed. “Ah, well, not good. The increased radiation is killing the, err, natives. Most suffer from malignant cancers, apart from a few who have avoided direct sunlight, and some have mutated beyond all recognition. However, it’s killing off the vegetation now, and once that goes, the oxygen level will become too low to support life. The polar caps are melting, causing the seas to rise, and, of course, the increase in temperature is causing more water to evaporate into the atmosphere to form clouds, which are trapping still more heat -”

  “What will happen to the people?” Tallyn asked.

  The professor shot him an injured look. “Well, those who don’t die from the solar radiation will die of suffocation or starvation. They are going to die, that’s certain. Earth is turning into another Venus. Soon it’ll be just as hostile, with a corrosive methane-ammonia atmosphere, and nothing will survive. The temperature will continue to rise until the core expands and volcanoes erupt, spewing molten lava over the surface. That will be dry, of course, as all the seas will have evaporated -”

  “How long, Professor?”

  The mild-featured man looked vexed at the constant interruptions. “Hard to say, exactly. Maybe three or four years before the people are gone, then the clouds will continue to thicken -”

  “Thank you, Professor.”

  Tallyn broke the connection with a sigh. Like most elderly, over-educated men, Rasham loved to extol his subject, and if not kept under control could produce a monologue that would consume hours of precious time in educational, but unproductive discourse. It had taken Rasham close to five hundred years to gather all his vast knowledge, and it seemed to long for egress, taking control of his tongue in order to gain access to a fresh mind. Once, Rasham had possessed high caste black and white hair, but age had turned it into a grey monotone most Atlanteans found unattractive. Then again, one as old as the professor did not care about such things anymore.

  On the spy screen, the girl fed her fire, still watching the countryside and sky. He wondered if she possessed more than the five senses humans were limited to, for she seemed unusually astute. Some studies conducted on humans indicated that a few had developed one or two extra senses over the course of their evolution, and most possessed a latent ability.

  Tallyn leant back, pressed his hand to the sensor pad and closed his eyes, selected his topic from the central databank and allowed the rush of data into his mind. The mixture of written information, images and sensory perceptions was too intense for an untrained mind to absorb. The history of humankind, their biology, language, culture and peculiarities flashed into his brain in a few moments, preparing him for the ordeal of dealing with a member of this alien and heretofore-un-contacted race.

  The reasons for their isolation soon became clear. Their propensity for violence and cruelty, their strange disregard for the destruction they had wrought upon their planet, dooming their civilisation, was enough to befuddle the most open of minds. It struck him as odd that the Golden Child should come from such an inept society, but then, perhaps she was the first to see the mistakes of the past.