Noah's Ark

by Vijaya Schartz

  “The emperor just bumped up our schedule.” Ktal turned away, unable to face his dear friend.

  “How bad is it?” Worry tinged Kuhr's voice.

  “The worst.” Ktal said softly. “The Godds are supposed to be evolved, and kind to inferior races.” That's what he had been taught. That's what he believed. “But the entire Goddian race might disappear if we do not comply to the new imperial orders.”

  “What new orders?” Creases tensed Kuhr's golden face.

  “Remember Barros-Five?” The infamous incident had tarnished the Godd's benevolent reputation throughout several galaxies for centuries afterwards.

  Kuhr released a whistling breath. “Barros-Five was an abomination. All the workers died of exhaustion by the time the last barge left that planet.”

  “This will be just as bad.” Ktal believed he had what the Humans called a soul, and he hoped to keep it pure. “I'll do whatever I can to avoid the worst.”

  He'd gladly agreed to improve the living conditions for the Human settlers. He was pleased their crops were sowed and ready to grow. He'd made sure the planting happened before the arrival of the barges, because he knew the work would intensify when that happened. But he never expected this level of ruthlessness from his beloved Empire.

  Ktal had snatched these innocent lives from jump space, altered their destiny, and he couldn't bring himself to bear the full brunt of imperial authority upon them. He felt responsible for their lives.

  “My Prince,” the crease in the golden skin between Kuhr's red brows deepened. “Does this mean we have enforcers on the landing pad?”

  Ktal nodded. The very thought of the brutish armored monsters revolted him. They were bred for discipline and crowd control, without scruple or compassion. Why would the Goddian Empire still spawn such freaks? But in times of war, survival spoke louder than ethics.

  “Can you control the enforcers, My Prince?”

  Ktal shook his head. He'd never been so powerless. “I'm fairly certain they are pre-programmed beyond my control. They will do whatever they are meant to do.”

  “But how did they happen to be on the barges? These vessels left the border weeks ago. The presence of these enforcers was never...” Kuhr's dark eyes narrowed with understanding.

  “It seems that from the very beginning, my beloved uncle the emperor didn't trust me to complete the job in time.” One more blemish on Goddian perfection. Life in the vast field of space had provided Ktal with a very different view of Goddian morals... not exactly the spotless ideology preached in the pristine halls of Godda.

  * * *

  Trixie's stomach knotted as she watched through binocs from atop the northern gate. The grotesquely muscular giants, covered in black armor, marched out of the open barge through the rectangular opening that lowered like a broad cargo ramp. Their steel-rimmed boots clanked on the metal. What were they? Neither Prince Ktal nor Kuhr had ever mentioned the arrival of a military force.

  Trixie quickly suppressed her first impulse to go meet the new arrivals, as her role of council leader dictated. She sensed something forbidding about them. She could only stare through her binocs.

  Philomena, at the bottom of the wall, whinnied and pranced, uneasy, as if sensing something evil. On the landing pad outside the north gate, the black warriors lined up on the stone slab like an invading army, bristling with weapons, all their helmets at the same level. All the exact same shape and size.

  A shiver skittered across Trixie's back. There were at least two hundred soldiers.

  Trixie dialed her radio and whispered, “Kostas, where are you? Are you seeing this?”

  “They look like clones to me.” His voice, usually reassuring, came in hard. “And not the intelligent kind.”

  His words surprised Trixie. A clone, denigrating other clones? “What do you mean?”

  “I've faced such warriors in battle before. They obey blindly. They have no free will whatsoever, and they make no decisions. They have no conscience. They act upon a predetermined programming, like machines.”

  “Wraith!” Trixie shuddered. She also realized that this was exactly how she'd judged Kostas right after she'd learned of his nature. She now understood there were different types of clones, some more sophisticated than others. Kostas was definitely not a machine. He had intelligence, ethics, a conscience, and a deep-rooted need to protect those under his care.

  These monsters, lined up for inspection on the landing pad, were a different matter. Their very sight opened a bottomless sink hole in the pit of her stomach.

  “Maybe they came to help load the barges,” she broadcast, against all hope. “Do the heavy lifting.”

  At the sound of running boots on the wall walk, she turned to see Kostas jogging toward her. His face looked somber in the fading sunset. He stopped next to her and peered between the battlements in the curtain wall. “Never met a friendly enforcer.”

  “Enforcer?” The term sounded ominous.

  “That's what we call them on the battlefield. They also guard prisons, and always clean up after committing genocide...” Kostas shook his head. “Since they are here, there must be a job for them.”

  “Against us? Why? We are peaceful. We honor our agreement. We work for them of our own will.” Remaining optimistic wouldn't prove easy.

  Kostas shook his head dejectedly. “They want something all right. And they usually get what they want.”

  “Wraith!” Trixie glanced up at Kostas, hoping he'd forgiven her previous and unfair judgment of him. “Do we stand a chance against them?”

  “Our weapons are running out of juice. Our garrison is outnumbered ten to one and outgunned. These warriors are bigger and stronger than any Human. There is no way we can stand up to them.”

  Still, Trixie refused to lose hope. Kostas always had a plan. “What do you recommend?”

  “Prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.” His jaw clenched as he returned his gaze to the landing pad, now surrounded by gawking settlers.

  Trixie shuddered, wondering what the worst might be.

  When the warriors on the pad broke rank, they scattered and grabbed the curious bystanders. The enforcers shoved them into the mineshaft elevator. Those who protested were struck and fell, bloody. The enforcers snatched them and threw them into the elevator cage without checking whether or not they still lived. Then the monsters fanned out to fetch more bystanders.

  “What are we going to do?” Trixie's mind recoiled at such violence.

  “We can’t let them inside the walls of the citadel. Seal all the gates, for one thing. Then hide and get organized.” Kostas reached for the lever activating the north gate. Iron chains moaned, then the heavy grille descended slowly.

  Trixie suddenly realized the fragile harmony the settlers had so laboriously achieved would soon seem like a dream compared to the oncoming nightmare.

  The iron grille fell down with a resounding clang, followed by the grinding of the wooden door closing, and the heavy beams latching into place.

  Trixie pulled her radio and dialed a general broadcast. “Tom, seal the main gate. Cheng, seal the west gate. Tabor, lock the east gate.”

  The radio crackled and the officers acknowledged her orders one by one.

  “Come with me.” Kostas seized her hand and dragged her at a run along the wall walk atop the rampart.

  She jogged at a good clip to keep up with his long strides. “What about the workers already in the mine?” She managed between breaths.

  “Nothing we can do for them right now.”

  * * *

  As he stared at the hologram projecting the revolving helix of the DNA sample, McLure congratulated himself for a job well done. He'd managed to activate the instruments in the lab without triggering any safety device. He had seen Prince Ktal and Kuhr use the equipment enough times while they helped him perfect his embryos and develop the grains and seeds needed for the crops.

  He turned off the recording of his tablet and stashed the small device in his poc
ket. Now McLure had the irrefutable proof Kostas was a clone. He just had to show this hologram to the council. Since they'd already met the enforcers, the council members would not take kindly to a clone impersonating a Human.

  The delivery of this information, however, might present a problem. With what he'd seen happening on the screens monitoring the citadel, McLure had decided to take up residence in the relative safety of his lab on the Goddian ship... at least until the situation improved.

  He hoped none of these soulless enforcers would dare to invade Ktal's princely vessel. McLure didn't consider himself labor material. He was a brilliant mind, not a beast of burden.

  At the sound of the iris door opening behind him, McLure turned off the DNA scanner, then faced his visitor. “Prince Ktal. What a pleasant surprise!”

  “What are you still doing aboard my ship?” Ktal's expression hardened.

  McLure forced a smile. “Tidying up, making sure I left everything as clean as I found it.”

  “You should be in the mines working like everyone else.” Ktal's angry turquoise glare indicated he was dead serious.

  “Wouldn't that be a waste of resources, My Prince?” McLure couldn't help the wailing in his voice.

  Ktal marched up to him. “The settlers are hiding from the enforcers. I need every able body at this crucial time.”

  “I wouldn't be any good doing menial work...” McLure's bright mind flashed lightning fast. “I could, however, be of help in subduing the rebellious settlers.”

  “How could you possibly accomplish that?” A glimmer of hope lightened the noble Goddian face.

  McLure took heart. “The only people getting in the way of your wishes are Trixie and the clone, Kostas. The others have no backbone, no authority, and will offer little if any resistance to your enforcers.”

  “But the settlers have gone into hiding.” Ktal paced, an unusual motion given his usually placid nature. “They must be deep below ground. Our scanners cannot detect them.”

  “As a Human myself, I could find out where they hide and deliver them to you.” McLure smiled wider. “In exchange, of course, I would require a favor.”

  “What favor?” Ktal barked, a strange sound from such a deep voice.

  “Your guarantee that I will remain exempt of any hard labor.”

  Ktal raised a turquoise brow. “But won't your collaboration with us be considered treason by your own people?”

  “I see the larger picture, My Prince, the greater good. A peaceful cooperation between our two races.”

  “I have no doubt.” Ktal shook his head then gestured toward the open iris door. “Just go and find them for me.”

  Relieved that Ktal accepted his bargain, McLure bowed deeply, smoothing his voice. “It's my pleasure working for you, My Prince.”

  * * *

  Ktal smashed his fist on the counter. How he wished he could smite dead the miserable excuse for a man. A traitor… the worst kind. And how dare this posturing grasshopper address him by his princely title. Ktal was prince among the Godds. Such address from lowly workers held no nobility.

  But Ktal had no other choice. He must use all his resources, even the least palatable. Right now, he must satisfy his emperor. The survival of his people depended upon his loyalty. And unlike McLure, Ktal was nothing if not loyal to his race.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As she led the last group of settlers, Trixie stepped down on the dusty floor of the cellar. She held up one arm to stop the line. Not all of them could fit in the cellar, so the line stopped in the stairwell.

  By the dancing flame of the torches she saw the heavy millstone blocking the entrance to the tunnels. An ingenious mechanism of weights and pulleys controlled the very large round stone in front of the opening, and for now kept it closed.

  She glanced up at Kostas, already there, his rucksack on the floor. “This is the last group, but it seems we are still missing lots of people.”

  To think they were headed for the kind of tunnels from which the Zerkers had poured onto the citadel only weeks ago gave her a chill. They had to choose the least of two evils. The Zerkers, however, hadn't used this particular entrance, and hopefully didn't know about it.

  Kostas had discovered the underground refuge while scanning for safe places. The vast rooms beyond these tunnels already housed hundreds of Human refugees.

  “Still no sign of McLure?” Kostas' tone indicated he didn't care whether or not McLure made it to safety.

  “Nope.” Trixie suspected the coward would be hiding on the Goddian ship, although it might not be any safer. “Just in case he decides to join us later, Tom told him where to find us.”

  Kostas nodded.

  “The mechanism only works from inside the cellar,” Trixie remarked, dreading the implications.

  “Makes sense.” Kostas chuckled. “After all, it was designed to keep the Zerkers out.”

  “We’ll have to leave someone here to close the door after us and watch for stragglers.” Trixie hated the idea of leaving anyone behind, but McLure wasn't the only one missing.

  The settlers around them carried small bundles. Trixie hoped they'd brought food as she'd instructed them. Her own backpack was full of rations. This might be a prolonged exile.

  Kostas braced both arms and shoulders against the thick wooden lever sticking out of a vertical shaft at a right angle. While the pulleys made it easy to close the entrance and keep it shut, it usually took at least two men to open it. But Kostas could do it alone. Not for the first time, Trixie admired the working of his perfectly buff muscles, bulging nicely in all the right places. Stop it, girl. He's not an option.

  The heavy millstone ground, moaned, and rotated slowly under the might of Kostas' heaving. As it rolled aside, a dark opening gradually came into view. Trixie's flaming torch flickered when air rushed out of the narrow corridor. Surprisingly fresh air.

  Trixie was glad for this marvel of engineering in the deceptively simple construction. “Whoever built these tunnels had a sophisticated knowledge of airflow. How can the air feel so clean?”

  “Clever ventilation system.” Kostas straightened, apparently unfazed by the effort. “Pretty amazing when you consider the underground compound is large enough to house thousands.”

  Kostas picked up his rucksack and torch and went in first. Trixie motioned for the settlers to follow as she ducked under the low lintel of the narrow passage. Behind her, the settlers shuffled their feet in a silence broken only by a scurrying rodent, a sneeze due to the dust, a muffled curse, an awed whisper.

  Kostas led the way, eyes fixed on his scanner.

  “Any sign of Zerkers?” Trixie kept her free hand close to her hip blaster.

  “It looks safe so far.” Kostas glanced back and flashed a smile. “I detect only Human life signs.”

  “Still, most of the tunnels must connect at some point.” Trixie sighed. There was always a chance they'd meet some natives.

  “We haven't seen a Zerker in weeks.” He kept walking at a good pace, moving with the grace of a large feline. “I suspect they reside much deeper underground.... probably in natural caves.”

  “I wish we knew where they live.” Trixie now understood that the cave they'd raided and collapsed weeks ago was only one of many entrances to their subterranean domain, not their main residence.

  “At least against the Zerkers we stand a chance.” Kostas looked confident. “In a narrow tunnel, our weapons will be deadly.”

  Trixie shuddered, but she understood. “With the enforcers scouring the citadel like mad dogs sniffing a marrow bone, it's our only chance, anyway.” She matched his quick pace. “I wonder how long before the enforcers leave us alone.”

  “They won't stop searching.” Kostas scoffed. “As long as we hide, they'll keep looking for us.”

  “Wraith!” Trixie hated being reminded that their futile flight only delayed the inevitable.

  * * *

  Surrounded by monstrosities in black warrior gear, inside a large shuttle
with seats too small for them, McLure found it difficult to breathe. All around, the dark night pressed upon the clear bubble of the flyer.

  The clone commander, the only one who seemed able to speak rather than bark or hiss, watched McLure with obvious distrust in his black beady eyes. He motioned down below. “Where is it? Show us.”

  Adjusting his night goggles, McLure squinted through the clear flexglaz of the flyer, orienting himself. Then he pointed to a roof top. “This is the building where the entrance to the tunnels is located.”

  The black-clad commander grunted and barked and order. The shuttle alighted silently on the flat roof, hovering one foot above the stone surface. The enforcers rose from their seats and lined up in the cramped aisles. None of them wore night goggles. They probably had natural night vision.

  McLure didn't move, hoping he wouldn't have to get off the flyer. The commander pulled him off his seat none-too-gently. “You come, too.”

  Silencing a cutting remark, as he didn't appreciate being bulldozed by a lowly clone, McLure sighed and straightened his long silk tunic. Since there was no sense in reasoning with brute strength, he stepped off the flyer with as much dignity as he could muster. “The entrance should be in the cellar.”

  “Cellar?” The brutish face frowned under the black helmet.

  “Below the building. Downstairs.” McLure hated dealing with morons.

  The commander shoved him ahead. “You come, you show us.”

  McLure shook his shoulder from the commander's grip and glanced right and left. Good thing the moonless night hid their movements. He didn't want the settlers to know he'd sold them out to save his own skin. But it was only equitable. Since McLure was a genius, his mind, and subsequently his body, had more worth than anyone else's. Even at the cost of consorting with Neanderthals, his life must be saved.

  He noticed how stealthy the enforcers could be despite their bulk. As he led them down the external stairs lining the side wall of the building, they seemed to bounce and float, like mere shadows. Once at street level, McLure motioned for the enforcers to remain hidden in the side alleyway.