“Ooooh! I understand, yes,” Ming said putting his hand to his forehead. It hadn’t occurred to him before but now the Foreman’s words made it clear. “I hadn’t thought of this before so let me explain. Sara here is unaltered. Her genetic makeup is slightly different than yours and very close to mine, although it is starting to change. Humans evolved in sunlight and over the eons we learned to distinguish between colors as a survival mechanism. To gain this advantage we lost a good deal of our night vision and became creatures of the day. Your eyes and other features, such as your lungs, were genetically altered to compensate for the dim light and thin air of the environment here. To compensate for that something had to be sacrificed. In your case it was the color vision that humans had developed over millions of years.”
“In the case of Sara, she was unaltered, so she’s retained some of her color vision. Her evolution has been slower although, after generations, she and the others are starting to adapt. Yours was a more dramatic instance of evolution, forced on you at the time of isolation by genetic manipulation. As for the commander, his eyes are blue. That’s a recessive trait that is rapidly disappearing from the population of Earth. Scientists believe that anyone with blue eyes can be traced to a single common ancestor who lived six to ten thousand “periods” ago. It serves no survival purpose that we can clearly identify. Every once in a long while, however, you do run across someone who has blue eyes. But it is rare and is becoming even more so as humanity evolves. Does that explain it well enough?”
“Yes, perfectly. Thank you Ming.” The man’s eyes were earnest and appreciative as if Ming had just thrown him a lifeline. I don’t like these caves, I don’t like the dark and I really don’t like creepy religious people, Ming thought as he went looking for Farr. He stopped though and turned back toward the Foreman and Skorsson.
“Foreman, may I ask you a question about the Suits?”
“Of course my son.”
“I’ve noticed a remarkable number of talents among your people. They’re brilliant with theoretical math and they know their environment like, literally, no people I’ve ever seen before. I’ve also found out there are only four hundred and sixty eight Suits. Has their number always been this small and do they have the same talents as the Workers?”
The Foreman heaved a large sigh and his face became wistful. “Once they were as plentiful as us. But where we chose the path of the Creators, they chose another and their numbers have fallen since. At first they wouldn’t mix their blood with ours, holding themselves our superiors in all things, but as they dwindled in number they relented. But by that time it was too late for them. We’d learned the ways of the Mind and they couldn’t make our bodies cooperate with their wishes. Their own births stopped some ten years ago.”
Ming eyed him warily. “Do you mean to say that they couldn’t impregnate your women? That your genetics aren’t compatible anymore or what?”
“No, not at all. The code that forms the essence of our beings is still very close and is compatible between the tribes but our women, and our men, for they tried that as well, had learned to control the making of life within their bodies and could stop it whenever they wished.”
“What you’re saying then, is that you’ve developed a ‘mental contraceptive’?” Ming finished his eyes wide and questioning.
“If you wish to put it so, then yes. I suppose that description could be applied, however quant it may be. Our bodies do what we will them to do within certain inevitable physical parameters and limitations.”
“If they’re still compatible genetically,” Ming continued, still not having wrapped his mind completely around the previous concept, “then they could have your abilities as well, couldn’t they?”
“You’re not listening Ming,” Skorsson said gently. “The Foreman’s told you already what happened between the groups. The Suits chose the old way and refused to evolve. They don’t have any of the abilities of the Workers except for the genetic eyesight and the breathing capacity that was bestowed on them by the treatments and they haven’t developed those, so the Workers have surpassed them in all areas, even the purely physical traits. What you do with the physical traits and how, is where the two tribes parted ways. I’ve been among them, albeit briefly. They’ve atrophied, unable and unwilling to abandon a system that was proven inefficient and detrimental more than a century ago. That’s the reason they’re dying out. In another fifty years they’ll be gone. The problem is, as I’ve explained to the Foreman, the infrastructure of this world won’t last another fifty years. It may not last another year, from what I’ve seen.”
Ming thanked the men a last time and departed knowing the time was at hand to enter the biome and wanting to move forward. He felt disoriented and out of place in this dark world and he longed to see the light again and smell growing, living things. And he wanted to get rid of the headache that had plagued him since their arrival and the faint buzzing in his ears that afflicted him in this cavern.
But he also knew that as soon as he left the lunar surface, he’d be ready to be off again on the next journey. That was his character, forged long ago in the streets and alleys of Zhengzhou in the middle lands of China, where he’d learned to hate the utter predictability of any given day.
His parents had always been vexed by his urge to see what was over the next hill, an insatiable curiosity that never let him, or for that matter, them, rest and be content with where he was and his station in life. For his culture it was a trying thing. They couldn’t understand the thrill that ran through him upon encountering something new or something that was completely counter to the beliefs of his society. He reveled in the differences, adopting those that suited him and rejecting the rest. He grew with each new experience until the middle lands of China could no longer contain his unrest.
Fortunately for his parents, and for that matter, him, he’d had older sisters and brothers to satisfy his parents somewhat prosaic desires for doctors and lawyers and grandchildren. Because of this he was wearily indulged when he’d signed on with the Earth Services Science Division, and received the same weary indulgence when he’d transferred to the regular fleet as a line officer. In both endeavors he’d traveled the Earth extensively, never staying long in any one spot, and that had suited him just fine. He hadn’t been able to imagine settling down to a life of sameness, with every day yielding the same result as the day before, with no hills to look over and imagine what was on the other side, with no wonder or variation in his daily routine, something he dubbed the ‘living death’.
But once he had considered settling down, he reminded himself, if only for a brief time. Nguyen had ended that particular episode of his life however, and there’s not likely to ever be a reoccurrence, he thought. It had been wrong of him to become involved and wrong of him to lead her to believe that he’d settle down, wrong on so many things. He stopped himself suddenly with a curse and let the dregs of regret flow out of him as he calmed himself and prepared for the mission to come. These were dangerous thoughts and had no place in an environment that was as hostile as this one. Soon his breath was steady and his mind clear and he set out to find Callum Farr.
CHAPTER 14
Farr saw Ming approaching in the dimness and met him along the way. Together they went to the gate that opened into the main arteries of the underground system and met Eric, who was calmly awaiting their arrival.
“Here are the wagons and they’re filled with the first offerings.”
Farr briefly held his nose and replied. “I can see that.” If anything, the stench from this batch was worse than the original one that had nauseated him.
“Oh god, I didn’t think it could get any worse,” Ming said, turning green.
“It may not get better, but it can always get worse,” Farr said, intoning a standard military philosophy. “And this is the case that proves the point. Lead on Ming, this was your plan.”
The small party exited through the gate and Farr and Ming were instantly on guard sweepi
ng the giant corridor from side to side with their lowlight opticals. There were three Workers in addition to Ming and Farr and all were armed with weapons taken from the Suits. Farr had decided that they needed to be armed up until the time they entered the tunnel of the offerings. Just in case they ran into any wayward Suits shopping for slaves, he’d told them. Ming and Farr would pass the weapons off before entering the tunnel and would then proceed alone to the place of the offerings.
As they walked and swept the tunnels with their lowlight, Farr and Ming carried on a conversation, barely audible, utilizing their commbuds. Ming told him about the conversation he’d had with Skorsson and the Foreman.
“I noticed some of the things that Skorsson mentioned of decay,” Farr said when Ming had finished. “Did I tell you they were conducting a boardroom meeting with the Chief?”
“A boardroom meeting, are you serious?” Ming laughed quietly.
“I’m deadly serious my friend. They were conducting a boardroom meeting complete with growth projections and upbeat numbers, all lies of course.”
“Are they insane?”
Farr actually considered that assessment before answering. “No, at least most of them probably aren’t. Their chief, Antonopoulos, probably is, but he came by it naturally.”
“Antonopoulos,” Ming mused. “That name sounds familiar.”
“It should. His ancestor was the bastard CEO responsible for NEOPDS and its failure.”
“Alekos Antonopoulos! He was the mad CEO that started all of this,” Ming said waving his hand around at the tunnels they traversed. “It’s no wonder Lansing and Lao couldn’t find the man even though they scoured the Earth for years.”
All five of the men tensed at the same moment, but the Workers raised their weapons and fired first at the, at least to Farr and Ming, shadowy figures. Farr heard the twhump of the air propelled projectiles followed by a muffled scream and the sound of running feet receding down the corridor a second later.
“Must’ve been lookouts,” Farr said. “Range was too far to kill with these weapons,” he observed.
“Yeah, but it must’ve smarted some, and, it would seem their eyes are better than our lowlight,” Ming said nodding back at the Workers.
“Just a little bit,” Farr agreed. “Maybe they were shooting at shadows.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Shadows were all I saw. Do you think they’ll bring a bigger party from somewhere near by?”
“At this point that seems likely. It doesn’t change what we’ve got to do though. But I better tell Eric to relay some orders to Tegev.” He motioned Eric forward and whispered to the young man for a few seconds after which he resumed his place.
“Callum, did you notice how quickly the Workers fired?”
“Yes, I did. Something’s happening among these people since the Foreman told us they’d cooperate fully.”
“Maybe they bought in on the Ecclesiastes line you were delivering earlier. They seem really focused now,” Ming said, “like they have a purpose again.”
“Ecclesiastes was the only thing I could think of that might work. It’s,” he hesitated and then continued. “It’s the only piece of religion that ever made sense to me. The rest was fairy tales and legend.”
“Which is what most religions are when you strip them of the inevitable institutionalization of the theology,” Ming said cynically.
“You know there are some good people in every religion,” Farr said. “It’s just like everything else in life; it is what you make of it.”
“Have you been re-born or something?” Ming queried sarcastically.
“What me, no,” Farr said chuckling. “Science is my religion. I believe what the facts say. But that doesn’t mean some good things aren’t done by the true believers. I’ll point out that the good guys here just happen to be the religious group.”
Ming shrugged and moved on without comment, alert to possible threats in the darkness.
The party had reached the junction of corridors, each man alert and keyed to respond to any threat within the murky tunnels. Farr had to admit he was impressed with the newfound demeanor of the Workers. They passed the junction without incident and approached the tunnel of the offerings.
The attack, when it came, was in the exact location Farr had predicted. Just before they reached the tunnel of the offerings, the Workers whispered an urgent warning to Farr.
“There are ten on either side of the main corridor ahead. They’ve set up twenty meters away from the tunnel of the offerings, directly blocking our access. We’re still out of their effective range,” Eric told Farr who nodded his understanding of the situation. “Another ten meters and we’ll be under fire.”
“It’s nothing more than I expected.” Farr motioned Ming back beside him and laid out his plan.
Ming hesitated. “This could get messy,” was all he said.
“I hope not. Most of the ones we’ve seen so far don’t really have the stomach for a hard fight. Maybe they’ll retreat fast before it becomes ugly.”
“I agree they don’t have much stomach from what I’ve seen and heard, but they outnumber us four to one. That could give them a false sense of courage and false confidence in their position.”
“I’m open to other ideas.” Ming shook his head. He didn’t have any. The confines were narrow and they could only reach their goal by going through the Suits.
“Well, let’s do this if we’re going to,” Ming said warily.
Farr gathered everyone behind the wagons and pushed them toward the positions of the Suits using the bulky wagons as cover for their advance. This seemed to puzzle the Suits who started firing at their maximum range. A veritable hailstorm of projectiles slammed into the wagons but none of Farr’s party was injured. As they pushed the wagons closer, Farr signaled the Workers to execute the plan. Two of the men stood suddenly and rippled off two shots each and then ducked back down. From the screams that accompanied the shots, all four must’ve been hits. The Workers had an uncanny ability to fire at predetermined positions based on their previous visual assessment of the Suit positions. Ming and Farr came up next firing their two rounds and ducking. They were less successful, maybe hitting on two of the shots. Then the men pushed the wagons closer as the Suits continued firing desperately. They never attempted to advance on the party but they weren’t retreating yet either, Farr believed, because of their fear of the tunnel that loomed behind them.
“It is time for the offering,” Eric whispered fearfully and Farr nodded, still marveling at how these people could keep the time of a world they hadn’t seen in a century without any chronometers.
All five men stood and fired volley after volley at the exposed Suits and finally, with no cover to withstand the onslaught, they broke. As the retreating men crossed the opening to the offering tunnel the underground area exploded with a deafening roar of gunfire that echoed again and again down the thin air of the cavernous tunnels.
The warbots had arrived.
Three Suits were splattered against the far wall by the heavy rounds of the 1123’s, dead before they ever landed. The rest fled as fast as they could down the dark passageway toward the place of the Suits.
“Put the weapons in the last wagon and cover them with offal,” Farr ordered.
“But we don’t have many weapons,” Eric protested.
“Do it now!” Farr hissed, tossing his and Ming’s in the wagon and covering them. Eric and the other men complied instantly.
“Now hang your arms at your sides and look down.” Everyone complied. Seconds later they heard the deep metallic thuds of the approaching warbot. The hulking menace cleared the tunnel and scanned Farr and his party immediately since they were the closest possible threat. Satisfied that they posed no threat, the metallic warrior turned its attention toward the fleeing Suits. Some must’ve still been within the infrared detection range of its sensors because one gun sprang up and rattled off ten rounds resulting in an eerie wavering scream that trailed off into nothin
g far down the dark halls.
The warbot stood stock still for twenty seconds scanning the bodies on the floor and the men standing. Finally satisfied, it turned and marched back to its assigned position. Farr fished the weapons of the three men out of the garbage leaving his and Ming’s where they were.
“Take these and leave now,” Farr ordered. Eric and his companions complied swiftly.
“Maybe you should’ve given them ours too,” Ming suggested.
“Or maybe we can come through this with some kind of weapon to use in the dome,” Farr said as they resumed their positions pulling the wagons.
“Good point. I set the timer. We’ve got thirty seconds to get this done,” Ming whispered.
They approached the warbots on duty and passed them by at the twenty second mark.
“Twenty seconds,” Ming reported quietly his face turned down. “Takashi says the explosion should be small, so I’m guessing the wagons should shield us from any light fodder.”
“Explosion!” Farr said his eyes wide, glancing quickly at Ming and then back down. “Explosion! Why didn’t Takashi use an overload variant?”
“He said that could work but probably not as well as using a small chemical explosion. He was pretty sure. Fifteen seconds.”
“Ming,” Farr whispered his voice rising slightly, “we’ve got an explosive device sitting on top of a wreaking tub of methane and two very large compressed CO2 cylinders in an enclosed space!”
Ming’s eyes suddenly expanded. “Ohhh helllll!” he drawled “Five seconds, four, three, two, one, down!” he yelled.
Ming and Farr dropped like rocks, attracting the attention of the warbots, but their attention was immediately drawn back to the wagons the barest fraction of a second later when the EMP detonated.
To call the explosion spectacular was to do a gross injustice to Dr. Takashi and his exuberant innovation. It was the very essence of a pyromaniac’s wildest dream.
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