Adam tried to control his emotions. “Lordship, have you ever heard of the concept of unintended consequences?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And, have you heard of the story of Frankenstein?”
His Lordship signed pleasure “Of course. The classic movie with Boris Karloff. His portrayal set the standard as to the image of the creature. And Lionel Atwell as Doctor Frankenstein.”
“Did you read the book by Mary Shelley it was based on?
“No, Adam. I must admit I prefer your cinema, your films. They are more enjoyable.”
Adam drew a breath to calm himself. “Lordship, part of the original story emphasized the problem of trying to make human life, and specifically making a superior human. The unintended consequence was the monster.”
His Lordship signed calmness. “My Director, trust me. That will not happen. I have studied your human species in depth for some sixty of your years. I was able to do this as an independent, outside observer, unclouded by being part of the grand experiment that is the human species. And yes, you are an experiment of what you call Mother Nature–your environment–and what you call evolution.”
His Lordship shifted his body on screen. “We Tschaaa developed from much the same environmental pressures. Believe it or not, I do accept the possibility of a ‘Higher Power’ in the universe that may have an effect on us, what you call God. But, day to day, year to year, it is the environmental rules that you lump together as ‘survival of the fittest’ that govern our success as a species.” The Tschaaa continued, “We Tschaaa have demonstrated our superior position in the food chain. We crossed trillions of your miles of outer space, the galaxy, and harvested you. Thus, we are the superior species. Therefore we have a superior ability to see what you humans need to succeed. Adam, I am working to raise you up, to make you as close to equal of the Tschaaa as possible. How is that wrong?”
“Your Lordship, I appreciate all you have done for me, for the humans I have been able bring into your sphere of influence and control. But… why didn’t you ask me, tell me, before you decided to try and modify us?”
His Lordship signed concern. “Adam, did you ask your canines, your dogs, before you began to change them through breeding?”
“Of course not. We did not know their language.”
“My Director, if you had been able to communicate your desires, would you have told your subjects and asked permission?”
Adam answered carefully. “I would have liked to say yes, but that would not have applied to all humans. Hell, my previous government performed secret experiments on specific groups and populations without their knowledge. But, two wrongs do not make a right.”
“My Director, how is improving your ability to evolve, to survive, wrong?”
Adam realized he had completely misread the Tschaaa Lord in so many ways. He had made the fundamental mistake that because this Tschaaa individual communicated in his language, a human language, that he processed ideas like a human being. The Tschaaa Lord did not. He had Tschaaa sensibilities, not human. Time for a different tact.
“May I ask Your Lordship, exactly what else you were trying to do to… improve human stock as a means to help us rise in our standing in the Universe?”
His Lordship gestured pleasure, the equivalent of a smile. “Of course, My Director. I, with consultation with the best minds in my Crèche and help from the human scientists on Platform One, was specifically modifying your females, and through them, your young.
“First, almost one hundred percent fertility among your females, and more twins. Next, shortened gestation. Your babies will now develop within seven months, freeing your mates to either reproduce more, or to free their bodies to perform the many other tasks that human females do, as opposed to Tschaaa breeders. Once born, your children will then live longer on average, at least one hundred of your years, possibly longer. Maybe eventually as long as we Tschaaa. That will make you more adaptable to interstellar travel.”
Adam took a moment for the information to begin to sink in. Near one hundred percent fertility, and probably a great improvement in the miscarriage rate for all women. More multiple births and stronger offspring to help in species survival. “My Lordship, how do you know about the intellectual development? Physical stature is easy to modify and see results. But intellect? How would you determine that success?”
“My Director, nothing is perfect. But with our millennia of developing organic beings such as our grays, our robocops and other human-based beings, you must trust me that the possible problems are few and easily solved. Your human scientists are providing additional insights and suggestions that are greatly speeding up the developmental process.”
Adam sighed. What a total cluster.
“Please, Director. Do not worry. In a month, we will revisit this subject. I guarantee that I will have solved any problems that may arise.”
“Well, My Lordship, it appears we our fate is completely in your hands. But, may I ask one more question?”
“Of course, Adam.”
“Did you try any such modifications on any males?”
Lord Neptune hesitated. “Just you, My Director. Before you worry, all we did was–shall we say–tweak your desirability.”
Adam froze. Again, he clamped down his emotions. “And, sir, what does that really entail?”
“You are already sexually attractive by human standards. And power, I believe some of you humans say, is the ultimate aphrodisiac. All we did was a very slight change in the pheromones that you exude, your specific scent. The already receptive, almost always gravid females of your species, are thus given a slight push when they are around you. They become more receptive toward your ideas, and they are prodded a bit to find you sexually desirable more frequently. Not enough to eliminate their free will in the matter, but definitely a push to consider you more favorably.”
“The side effect is that the females of my species are becoming more aggressive, more violent toward members of their own gender as they compete for sexual favors and gratification. How do you plan to deal with that?”
His Lordship gave the equivalent of a shrug. “Just a small, how you say, glitch in the development of the process. A slight modification in dosages, strengths of the substances used, slight tweaks to the genetic map, all will solve those side effects. To further allay your fears, we have performed previous tests in the so-called Cattle Country. Those helped us to develop the first baseline.”
Adam could see that further conversation was a waste of time. The Tschaaa Lordship had decided long ago that he knew what was best for humankind. Unfortunately, as smart as Lord Neptune believed he was, he really did not and could not understand the possible consequences of genetic or hormonal modifications with as complicated a species as Homo sapiens.
“Well, Sir, we will make the best of it. But, as the information spreads, which it will, people in Tschaaa controlled areas will not be happy.”
“My Director, I have complete confidence in your ability to convince your fellow humans that the course of action I choose for them will be, in the long run, beneficial. Now please excuse me, as I have some other pressing matters. Have a restful day.”
Adam handed the communicator back to Andrew, who stowed it away within his torso once more. As Andrew disconnected the line to the monitor, Adam asked him a question. “Did you know of His Lordship’s modification project?
Andrew replied directly. “It is in the voluminous data files to which I have access, but I never really actively review them. I have now, through my interfaces.”
Adam knew Andrew had almost instantaneous contact with all databases, both human and Tschaaa in origin. “And now that you have reviewed them, what do you think?”
“I think, Director, that His Lordship’s intentions were good. He truly believes he will improve the human race. But, as the expression goes, the devil is in the details. I think that because the human species is so complicated, and has evolved in a rather unique fashion on this p
lanet, no one fully understands the ramifications of such strong modifications in such a short time. My human origins tell me that males and females developed the way they are over hundreds of thousands of years. Trying to change patterns of behavior as well as physical characteristics such as size and period of gestations over a year or two is very… problematical and troubling.”
Adam regarded Andrew. He understand now, even more than previously, that there was a level of independent thought in him and other cyborg beings that was unrealized. “That is a very independent opinion, Andrew. Are you not afraid of angering your Tschaaa masters?”
Andrew paused. “I and my two hundred forty-nine ‘brothers’–the part human, part machine, cyborgs created since the strike and invasion–have far more independent mental capabilities than those beings produced during the long voyage here. The next dozen or so produced over the coming weeks will be the same as I am. The Tschaaa seem to like us to retain this independence because we can operate with a level of autonomy, which means we do not bother the Tschaaa with day to day activities. As you have been told, the more senior Tschaaa have stagnated and become lazy. I function as part of a bureaucracy that keeps things running smoothly with little direction from above. The Tschaaa prefer it that way.”
“If this… tweaking of Humankind produces literal Frankenstein monsters, what would you do?”
“I would do what was necessary to preserve life, especially young life, both Tschaaa and human, as it should be.”
Adam consisted Andrew’s use of the phrase, “as it should be”. He began to ponder the possibility that the Tschaaa had created a creature in Andrew which may be their undoing if he and his brethren decided that the Tschaaa were not acting in interest of the greater good. Like Gort, in the original 1950s movie, The Day the Earth Stood Still, these supposedly silent and stoic creatures were the hidden power behind the current system. If the system collapses, or seems to collapse, they may take charge… of everything.
“Thank you, Andrew. As always, your thoughtful analysis helps me greatly.”
“I am at your command, Director. Within reason, of course.”
As Andrew left his office, Adam understood that this robocop was much more complicated than anyone realized. The original versions brought for the invasion were noted for their cool efficiency in eliminating anything that disrupted the harvesting of the dark meat to feed the Tschaaa. Initially, they patrolled the population areas, taking out anyone who disrupted a quiet street, town, or city. Anything determined to be a drain on resources was destroyed. Those publicly intoxicated and the homeless were harvested on the spot. Start a fight when a robocop was near, and you were butchered for eating. Attack or resist a robocop, and you met the same fate. Large scale resistance resulted in large scale destruction, with the blood from those slaughtered on the Falcons raining down on survivors below. After incidents like that, there was no more resistance, and there were no more disruptions in public. Everything became nice and orderly when the robocopy were watching.
The Tschaaa used the robocops, with grey and lizard help, to set up the original electronic fence around what was now Cattle Country. With the assistance of the remaining flying squads, thousands of people of color not already in Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia, were herded in like the beef cattle they soon resembled. Adam had added a type of Guard Force and chain link fencing in the last couple of years to help keep the borders of Cattle Country secure. These actions backed up the thousands of miles of the original alien electronic fence. It all acted as an additional reminder that the Director was in charge.
But who was really in charge?
Adam fixed himself a double rusty nail. Too much was happening too fast. He decided he would sleep on it before he gave anybody else the full details of his conversation with His Lordship. The talk with Andrew he would probably only share with the Chief. He took a large swig of his drink and let it burn down to his stomach. Shit. Things were getting more complicated by the hour.
CHAPTER 27
THE PERFECT STORM
Sometimes in the course of history, a confluence and convergence of independent events occur which somehow connect and form an overriding, forceful event. In the language of weather, this could be called a Perfect Storm. This confluence of forces creates an event of such magnitude that it changes or destroys everything in its path. In the area formerly known as the United States of America, such a storm of events began as Free Allied forces launched an assault on the seat of alien power in Key West, Florida.
- Excerpts from the Literary Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family
While Adam Lloyd was attempting to get a good night’s sleep, Colonels Hunter and Bardun were on Platform One, their third trip to the large space station. After their return from the first trip, Director Lloyd welcomed Cliff Hunter back and offered him a position as a backup spaceplane pilot to Bettie Bardun. Within days of their return, the Tschaaa had grays and lizards replacing the original engines with early models of the pulse engines used in delta space interceptors. The Hope became a true spaceplane, using eject-able rockets to lift it off the runway, kicking in pulse engines at about one thousand feet altitude. They worked like a charm.
The two pilots were married in a simple ceremony, the Key West Base chaplain officiating. The Admiral provided a stocked honeymoon suite, called the Admiral Suite, at one of the refurbished shoreline hotels called, understandably, the Republic. Bettie and Cliff spent a glorious three days becoming reacquainted as man and wife. On the final evening they laid in each other’s arms. “You sure know how to treat a girl right,” Bettie playfully exclaimed.
“Hell, I thought I was out of practice. There weren’t exactly a lot of available members of the female gender on the space station. I guess it’s like riding a bicycle, you never really forget it once you’re good at it.”
Bettie giggled like a school girl, and gently poked him. “I didn’t realize riding me was comparable to a bicycle.”
Cliff kissed her forehead. “Ha. I wasn’t referring to how we… fit together . I meant being able to love someone after six years house arrest in a small room in space. I’m glad I did not develop some type of psychosis.”
“The strong survive, Cliff. I saw my share of humans who went insane while trying to survive the nuclear or long winter, whatever you want to call it. Even when things began to warm up after about sixteen months, there were still those who killed themselves, or committed suicide by attacking a robocop. The rest of us worked to survive, some even had children. The human species has a strong spirit of survival.”
“Babe, did you ever think about heading North to the Unoccupied States?”
She sighed. “Yes. But I wanted to try and keep the Cape in one piece. I wanted something of my previous life to remain. I also saw a trip up north as just trading one prison for another one. At least living at the Cape gave me the feeling of some control over my fate, and a purpose for my life. If I had known about you, I might have chosen differently.”
“But then you wouldn’t have had the chance to man the spaceplane and find me. I don’t see anyone else trying to go to space. Things sometime happen for a greater purpose.”
Bettie kissed Cliff. “I love you. The happiest moment of my life was when I saw you alive on Platform One. The second happiest was when you pulled this ring out of that beat up, bloody box. Now, we are permanently joined at the hip. Where you go, I go.”
Cliff smirked. “I surmised we were joining a little south and to the right of your hip…”
Bettie kissed him again. “You can be such an asshole sometimes. Come here and show this old bicycle a few new tricks…”
Professor Fassbinder had spent his week on Platform One looking at the flying saucer in the photos the Director had shown him. He and the Olson twins had spent the first two days clambering around inside a large craft with absolutely no edges or corners. Everything was smooth, almost featureless. Attempts were made to examine its internal workings using x-rays, MRI-like
machines, you name it. Everything was blurred. Finally, Joseph walked in the only thing they could get to work, the entrance hatch and stopped.
“Hm. Some craft used to have their hatches in the rear. I wonder…” He walked forward to what would be the “front” if the hatch was 180 degrees opposite of the bow of the ship. He suddenly sat down, cross-legged...
...and almost jumped out of his skin when the “floor” began to form a seat around his ass.
Somehow, he controlled himself. He was soon in a reclined “pilot’s” seat. He felt the “armrests” and the area directly in front of him that might have been an instrument console. Parts of the ship formed around his fingertips and palms. When he moved his fingers, a heads up display appeared directly in front of his eyes. Or was it projected into his retina? He saw the wall of the large bay the saucer was in. Shit.
“Sandy. Sam. Get in here.”
A few hours later, the twins were able to get the saucer’s interior to react to them as well. It seemed that the craft, ship, whatever you wanted to call it, took a while to “decide” it wanted to interface with each individual. The craft literally seemed to have a mind of its own.
The rest of the week Joseph spent with the Olson twins, trying to figure out its system. When he left with the two Colonels on the spaceplane, the saucer was slowly giving up its secrets to the three scientists. It was as if it was examining and testing them to see they were worthy enough to converse with, to share with. Joseph was glad he did not have to stick around. Not only because he really wanted to get back to his wife, but also he really disliked the Tschaaa Lord in charge of Platform One. Cliff called him the Wizard. Joseph called him Shithead. Whenever he was around him, Joseph felt the Tschaaa was sizing him as the main course of a meal. Joseph had visions of himself, on a big table, roasted, with an apple stuck in his mouth.
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