Twilight's End

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

  Dionne turned to look at the bear of a man, sensing hostility in his manner even if she hadn’t noticed the tone of his voice. “No, I’m not,” she said calmly. “I’m the one entrusted with the task of bringing the gift.”

  Notaku sent Khan a challenging glance before he returned his attention to her. “You’ve not chosen a man.”

  The look as much as the undercurrents she detected in his defiant stance, drew Dionne’s attention to Khan. She sensed immediately that there was longstanding hostility between the two men that had nothing at all to do with her. Very likely it was tied to Khan’s position as Chief, but the warrior seemed determined to make her the latest bone of contention.

  “I can not,” she said finally. “Not until I have done what I was sent to do.” She studied him for several moments, wondering if she dared go further, but finally realized that she had little choice if she was to do what she’d set out to do. Khan was opposed to the plan. It seemed unlikely that he would help her now, and now that she had a better understanding of the situation, she realized she would need help if she was to have any hope of surviving long enough to complete her task. “First I must find the others--like me. They were--uh--hidden in a place far from here--many days ride. I will need strong, fierce warriors to take me there.”

  A wide smile curled the warrior’s lips. “I will take you.”

  Oh shit!

  Dionne managed a thin smile in response. Before she could either accept or reject the offer, however, Khan spoke for the first time. “No one would trust you--alone--Notaku, to take her there safely and return. She speaks of the forbidden land.”

  Notaku reddened at the insult, but at Khan’s last remark, the color left his face abruptly. His skin turned a sickly hue. “I am brave and strong enough to take her,” he said with forced bravado.

  Dionne couldn’t help but notice that no one else volunteered. She didn’t know whether it was the mention of the forbidden land, or the possibility that they might find themselves caught up in the middle of a dispute between Khan and the warrior, Notaku, who struck her as brutish and dangerously stupid.

  “I will not accept the help of any warrior not brave enough to face the tests, or wise enough to accept the gift,” she said firmly. “I will go alone if I must.”

  Having said what she had come to say, she turned to depart. Notaku had made her uneasy, however, and she made certain she summoned the cats in full view of all the villagers before she left.

  She had not gone far when Khan caught up to her. She could tell even before he spoke that he was angry.

  “What was that all about?” he demanded tightly.

  “Giving them a choice.”

  He was silent for several moments, obviously wrestling with his temper. “I meant the invitation to Notaku, but we’ll leave that for the moment--I would have spoken to them myself.”

  “Without trying to influence their decision in any way?”

  He ground his teeth. “And you didn’t?”

  She colored faintly. “I didn’t lie to them.”

  “You did suggest, oh so subtly, that their refusal to accept would be tantamount to denying their children a better life.”

  “Which it would be.”

  “What gives you the right to judge?”

  “What gives you the right?” she demanded, stopping abruptly and turning to face him. “When I look at them I see sickness, squalor, hunger--all things that could be prevented if they only knew how.”

  “It is all they have ever known. They accept the cycle of life because they know no different. You have no right to play god with their lives, to make them yearn for things they will never have when they are satisfied with the world they know.”

  Dionne struggled to contain her outrage and failed. “You’re not playing god with their lives?--at all?”

  “I had no intention of doing so. I only wanted time to consider what would be best for all. That is why I was chosen as their Chief--to make the decisions according to what was best for everyone.”

  “It isn’t your decision. It’s theirs! You make weapons and go out and choose which animals you will kill to fill the cook pot and which ones you’ll use to make yourself more comfortable, but that isn’t playing god?”

  He gave her a look. “That is a matter of survival--ours or theirs.”

  “It’s all a matter of survival and the quality of life. You use the tools and knowledge you have to see to your comfort and survival. If someone gets sick, or hurt, you do what you can to help them get better, to make them well. This isn’t playing god. It’s no different at all. And no one person has the right to make the decision for everyone else--that’s playing god, taking it upon yourself to make someone else’s decision for them only because you don’t approve of their choice or methods.”

  He was silent for several moments. “We can not agree on this.”

  “No, we can’t.”

  “Because you are stubborn and will only see one side of this.”

  Dionne glared at him.

  “We will agree to allow them to make their own decision without either of us trying to influence their choice.”

  Dionne wrestled with her temper for several moments and finally capitulated. “Agreed. I only came anyway to tell them they had a choice--because I realized that you were right and it was just as wrong of me to try to trick them into doing what I thought was best for them as it was for you to try to convince them not to accept the gift.”

  The final jab resurrected his temper, but instead of taking up that gauntlet, he backtracked to his earlier complaint. “It was not wise to invite the warriors to battle for your favor,” he said.

  Dionne’s jaw dropped in stunned surprise. “I did no such thing!”

  “Maybe not intentionally....”

  “Not at all! You were the one who pointed out that it would be dangerous to travel alone.”

  “I’d intended to take you when you were ready to go,” he said tightly.

  Dionne stared at him in surprise for several moments. “And I was supposed to know this? You made it pretty clear that you didn’t approve of the project at all.”

  “I don’t.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand you at all. Why would you even consider helping me if you don’t approve?”

  He seemed to wrestle with himself for several moments. Finally, he merely shrugged. “I released you into this dangerous world. I’m responsible for your safety.”

  It was unreasonable for that statement to hit her like a fist to the solar plexus, but it did, and she found she had to struggle against the pain even to catch her breath. “Because you released me?” she managed to ask finally.

  “Yes.”

  Nodding, she turned away, paused for a moment to get her bearings and then headed a little blindly in the direction of the bio-lab. He felt responsible for her. All this time she’d struggled with her own demons of desire, certain that his staying with her was an indication that he felt something for her--even when he’d retreated behind that cold wall of seeming indifference--because he had. She’d misinterpreted everything.

  When she’d questioned his presence at all--which she really hadn’t because she’d just been so damned grateful that she wasn’t facing such a daunting task alone--she’d thought it was desire that kept him close, the hope that she’d change her mind.

  It hadn’t occurred to her once that he thought she was so weak and helpless and ineffectual that she couldn’t take care of herself.

  She was so caught up in her misery that she wasn’t even startled when his hand curled around her arm and dragged her to a halt. She merely lifted her head and stared up at Khan blankly. “What?”

  “It will be safer for you if I take you.”

  Dionne blinked at him several times while that slowly sank in. “Actually, it isn’t at all necessary. Never let it be said that scientists don’t consider practicalities at least occasionally. There are weapons in the lab. I have the cats, too. I’m sure the maps w
ill be almost as useless as the global positioning assistance since the geology of the landscape has altered so drastically and there probably haven’t been manmade satellites orbiting the world in centuries, but the bots should be able to pinpoint the general area.

  “I’m not even certain now if there would be any point in going.” She frowned. “I may need to consider whether it would be better to scrap the project at this point, seal the bio-lab, and re-enter the bio-pod to wait for a more receptive time.”

  Chapter Ten

  Khan’s hand tightened reflexively on her arm. The emotions that chased across his features were hard to decipher, however, and Dionne wasn’t in any mood to try. “You’re not seriously considering going back into that thing? You’re lucky you survived this long.”

  “Actually, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do. But aborting the mission is my decision. I’m team leader. I’ll have to give it some thought.”

  When he released her arm, she resumed her trek, but the new possibility supplanted her hurt and confusion, pushing them to the back of her mind. By the time she’d reached the bio-lab, she had arrived at one conclusion. She was too emotionally involved with Khan to make an objective decision. Everything about her association with him clouded her judgment. If it hadn’t, she would have considered the possibility of aborting and trying at some unspecified future time much sooner.

  She was tired and hungry when she reached the lab, but none of the food in storage was so tempting that she found it hard to resist and she decided to put off preparing a meal until after she’d input the data.

  Dragging a stool over to the console, she plopped down on it and sat for some minutes trying to compose her thoughts. “Lois?”

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to run a scenario for me.”

  “Awaiting data input.”

  “This is to be matched against the Renewal Project overview.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “We overshot the projected implementation date by approximately 700 years. There are no survivors, as was anticipated, with any memory of the pre-disaster world. Although the populace shows no signs of physical or mental regression in so far as learning capabilities or physical attributes that would preclude the use of modern tools, culturally they have regressed to a stage of tribal hunter/gatherers.

  “Actually, I can’t be certain that they’ve regressed to that point. It’s possible that they have progressed to this point and conditions were more primitive before. From what I have learned it seems that they have been perched on this plateau of development for several generations at least with no appreciable progress.

  “They have the ability to make tools from stone, bone, and wood. Their skill in pottery making seems fairly sophisticated. The study subjects do not appear to be nomadic. They have land under cultivation, but little in the way of domesticated stock. They seem to have built permanent dwellings in a fairly organized village structure. The dwellings are constructed of clay mortar, some sort of animal hair, and stick. I had originally interpreted the absence of fortification of any kind as a sign that the people were peaceful, but I have learned that this is not the case. Tribes are territorial and fight to protect their hunting grounds....”

  In took her several hours to dredge up every scrap of information she had noted in her observations of Khan and his people. It surprised her that she’d observed as much as she had without actually being aware of it.

  When she’d finally run dry of information, the computer asked for more.

  “Number of subjects in test?”

  Dionne frowned, scanning her memory for an approximation. “Approximately twenty five family units--one tribe.”

  “Area?”

  She hadn’t a clue. “Calculate a territory of about thirty to fifty square miles per tribe. Oh, and there seems to be very large tracts of land that are considered uninhabitable. The bio-lab sits in ‘the lifeless plain’ a large desert. And the ‘forbidden land’ seems to include major cities of my time--so you should subtract that from the equation.”

  “General attitude regarding tests?”

  Dionne considered that. “Overall, negative.”

  “General attitude regarding ICTD?”

  “Hostile.”

  “General attitude regarding introduction of enhanced genetics subjects?”

  Dionne thought that one over for several minutes. “I don’t think they’d have any problem finding someone to fuck them,” she said dryly. “Testosterone levels are through the roof here.” She paused, considering. “I think the probability is high that the ‘mothers’ would not be able to integrate smoothly into the culture. Ignorance and superstition about them could contribute to battles or outright war--the subjects are very territorial.”

  “Calculating probabilities.”

  Sighing, Dionne got up and headed for her quarters. She jolted to a halt when she saw Khan had followed her, but after a brief pause continued without acknowledging him.

  It was really starting to get on her nerves that he kept sneaking up on her like that.

  Not that it would be hard to evade her notice, she admitted. As distracted as she’d been lately a five hundred pound gorilla could probably sneak up on her.

  And, of course, Khan and his people survived on their ability to move quickly and silently, which gave him a distinct advantage.

  Selecting a meal at random, she shoved it into the cooking unit, tapping her fingers on the countertop impatiently while she waited the two minutes it took to heat.

  When it was done, she settled at the table to stare at the food and stir it with her fork. God she missed real food!

  She missed real clothes, too. Not that she wasn’t grateful just to have something to cover herself with, but miserable was still miserable. The tunic was scratchy and stiff and chafed her skin where ever it happened to rub her.

  It occurred to her after a moment that it wasn’t even hers. She’d ‘borrowed’ it from Khan. She’d done her best to keep the thing as clean as possible, but there was no washing leather. She’d checked with the computer. If she’d washed the thing it would probably look like a choker by now.

  “That was a harsh assessment,” Khan said, settling in the chair across from her.

  She looked up at him in surprise, then frowned thoughtfully. “It wasn’t accurate?”

  His lips tightened. “You don’t know that they will be hostile about the ICTD or that they will refuse to be tested.”

  She blinked, several times, rapidly. “It was an assessment based on prior experience and observation of expressions and body language when I made the offer. I don’t have anything else to go on.”

  “Then the results will not be accurate.”

  She considered his remark thoughtfully and finally dismissed it. “The computer is only tabulating the statistical probability of success or failure. The more data the better, of course, and the more accurate the data the more accurate the prediction, but I’m only looking for something to support, or disprove, my own assessment of the situation.”

  She took a bite of the rapidly cooling food and chewed it, chasing it with water. When she decided she’d had enough to stave off starvation for a little while without becoming ill from trying to eat when her stomach was a knot of nerves, she left the table to dispose of the container and clean the fork.

  “You’re not seriously considering going back into the pod?”

  Dionne turned to study him, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back against the cabinet. She found his attitude almost as confusing as it was annoying. What did he want from her? What did he expect her to do if she couldn’t complete her mission in this time? Just give up? Did he think she could, in good conscience, simply discard all the hard work so many people had put into this project to ensure a future for mankind?

  “You do understand that I was especially bio-engineered for this task? That it is the only reason for my existence at all?”

  “It doesn’t matter why, or how, you cam
e to be, only that you are a human being and have the right to life that everyone else enjoys.”

  “It does matter why and how. I was conceived in a lab, gestated in a lab, reared in a lab. This is all I have ever known--this and the people who programmed me to carry out the task they knew they wouldn’t be around to take care of themselves. What I do after I have completed my assignment is their gift to me.” She shook her head. “I never asked you to agree with me, or to help me. I don’t need you to help me and I certainly don’t want or need you standing in my way. Go back to your people and leave me alone. I have work to do.”

  He followed her back into the main lab, but she was acutely aware that he lingered as she called up the computer again. “Have you finished processing, Lois?”

  “Affirmative. Probability of completing one hundred percent of Project Renewal, zero. Probability of completing ninety percent of project successfully, zero. Probability of completing eighty percent....”

  Dionne drummed her fingers on the desk top, fighting the urge to tell the computer to stop.

  “…Probability of completing fifty percent of assignment, thirty percent….”

  Deciding she’d heard enough when the computer reached twenty percent, she stopped the readout and got up to pace. To her relief, she saw that Khan had at last departed. Dismissing him from her mind, she considered the possibilities without emotion. “You’re saying the probability of reintroducing specific plants and animals is good?”

  “Affirmative.”

  She considered that with a slight budding of hopefulness. It wasn’t much, to be sure, but if she could successfully introduce the necessary species into the chain the building blocks would be there when needed.

  It was risky.

  But then the whole enterprise was a calculated risk, and currently the odds were very much against the more complex aspects of the operation. “What is the probability of seed failure if I leave them for another one hundred, two hundred, or three hundred years?”

  The computer calculated the odds and read them out.

  “That good?” Dionne responded glumly. “We’ve already lost more than we could afford to considering the percentage that’s bound to be lost once transplantation is implemented. I don’t think we can afford to wait.”