“Yes. It still exists.”
He smiled.
“Can you tell me how you came to be here with the Greys?”
“We are Parcae,” Lorak said.
“Parkey?” she said trying to mimic the click sound Lorak had made and making a mess of it.
“Pah-k-eye,” Lorak pronounced again.
“Parcae?”
Lorak nodded.
She committed that to her database. “How did you all come to be here, living like this?”
Marcus raised a hand and let it drop upon the covers. “There’s nothing mysterious about it. I came down from the ship with Lorak’s grandfather and the rest of the survivors. I’m the last one. I was the youngest you see?”
“Not really.”
He sighed. “You must have boarded the ship?”
“Not personally, but others have, yes.”
“We did that. The slaves I mean. We sabotaged the drive. We didn’t expect to survive it, and most of us didn’t, but those who did landed here. We thought the ship would be lost in foldspace, but when the field collapsed we were ejected back into n-space. They said, the others said, it was the mass of the sun. It pulled us out. I don’t know, but there was nowhere for us to go so we came here. Welcome to Hell.” He laughed and coughed violently.
Gina swung her pack off her shoulders and retrieved her medical kit. She didn’t know what she could do for him, but there might be something. She retrieved her nano-injector and popped the cartridge out. She couldn’t inject viper bots into him. They wouldn’t be compatible. They’d kill him. She rummaged around for a standard cartridge thankful that she even had one. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that James was meant to join her she wouldn’t have packed any. She found it finally and loaded it. Lorak was watching her closely. She showed him the injector.
“It’s medicine, sort of,” she said.
“Nanobots,” Lorak corrected.
She flushed. This guy was no primitive despite the conditions he was forced to live in. “Right.”
“It won’t help,” Marcus said. “I’m not sick. It’s just age; it comes to us all.”
“It can’t hurt either,” she said firmly and he shrugged holding out a stick thin arm. “Nanotech has come a long way since your time. This might do more than you think.”
Besides, he hadn’t had his boosters in forever. She pumped the entire cartridge into him. Five doses. She needed to contact the ship and report in. She could have a full medical team down in under an hour. She explained that to them, and Lorak agreed it was a good idea.
“We wish evacuation,” Lorak said. “From Hell. All of us wish to leave this planet.”
“You named it Hell?” She privately thought the name was appropriate; much better than her attempt, though it was a nightmare too.
Marcus grinned. “We were damned to a living death. What else would we name it?”
Lorak nodded. “There are too few of us now, and more perish every year to wargs and other things.”
“He means the gene pool is bottoming out. A few less and their children will start showing defects.”
She grimaced. “I’m sure we can accommodate all of you. We have two heavy cruisers up top. It might be a bit cramped, but we’ll get you someplace better than this.”
“Anywhere would be better than here,” Lorak said.
She couldn’t agree more. She up-linked to the satellite and contacted Warrior to get the ball rolling.
* * *
30 ~ Last Man Standing
Aboard ASN Warrior, NGC 1511-2262, Border Zone
Colgan entered medical and took Doctor Ambrai aside. “How is he?”
Ambrai glanced toward his patient’s bed where Lorak and Fuentez sat talking with him. He kept his voice low. “I’m surprised he recovered at all, Captain. Few ever reach their bi-centenary; fewer still surpass it.”
He nodded. Marcus had taken a turn for the worse aboard the shuttle, a result of all the excitement and the trip in zero grav. A man of his advanced age had no business flying in anything, let alone a shuttle boosting for orbit, but he had insisted that he be allowed to leave with the Parcae when they were evacuated. Besides, what could they do, leave him down there alone?
“Can you do anything for him?”
Ambrai shook his head. “Frankly I’m amazed he’s lasted this long in the conditions we found on Hell. The survivors were damned lucky that the native life forms are compatible with their physiologies. The basic vitamins and nutrients are present in a few of the things they grew, and the Parcae are omnivorous like us, so hunting for meat played a part in sustaining them, but it was a hard road for them. No medicines, no nanotech booster shots. It’s a tribute to his IMS—obsolete though it was—that Marcus survived to such an advanced age; amazing really. Our modern systems are so much better these days, but we forget that what we have is based upon what people like him had before us.”
“There’s nothing you can do?”
“I’ve brought his IMS up to present specs, and his bots are working hard to repair the ravages of age and poor diet, but I can’t reverse that age, Captain, no one can. We need to prepare ourselves for the inevitable.”
He took that to mean they needed to debrief Marcus as quickly as possible. Heartless maybe, but he was the last witness to what had occurred here at the close of the Merki War. The Parcae colonists were third and fourth generations removed from that time, and knew only what parents and grandparents had taught them of the Merkiaari and their own past. Much was lost. They didn’t know where their homeworld was for example, or where to even start looking for it. They didn’t know much beyond how to survive on Hell, and to his surprise they didn’t seem to mind. Had it been him, he was sure he would have felt the loss of connection with the rest of the Alliance and what he considered home, the navy. They seemed genuinely content to start over somewhere else, somewhere better with no connection to the past. He didn’t know where that would be. There were surveyed but uncolonised worlds both within and outside of Alliance space, any one of which could be ceded to the Parcae, but that would be a Council decision. His job right now was getting answers to questions, and making the best report he could to Beaufort and Commodore Walder. She would be pissed enough at him already for throwing over her show the flag mission without handing her more problems and unanswered questions.
“How will he do in translation?”
Ambrai grimaced. “Poorly. I’ll have to put him in stasis despite the risks. I should have done that for the trip up here, but the chances of being unable to revive him had seemed too high. You saw the result.”
Colgan nodded.
“In stasis he’ll be free of jump stress, but the risks of using it are endemic to the process. There’s no way to avoid it.”
“The Merkiaari use it all the time and don’t seem to have suffered unduly.”
“Can we know that? Those cryonic hibernation chambers of theirs use the same principles as our stasis tubes. I’ve seen no evidence that theirs are better than ours, and besides, we’re talking a different biology here. The Merki are genetically engineered from heavy grav stock. We aren’t.” Ambrai sighed. “Look Captain, we can debate the differing paths our peoples have taken all day. Our academics delight in doing that, but we have laws for a reason. The result of not having them lies asleep in that monstrous ship out there, and I’m not talking about its size.”
He nodded grimly. What that ship stood for was indeed monstrous. It was a people factory, pure and simple. It could churn out thousands of Merkiaari to specifications input by its operators and go on doing it forever if supplied with the right bio-matter. The thought that the Human race had turned away from a path that could so easily have lead them to the same destination as the Merkiaari was a profound relief; it was a sobering warning as well. Humanity had chosen the path of nanotech and used it to sustain people at their physical best, eradicating deceases and eliminating infirmities when possible, yes, but not changing the fundamental biology of what made
them Human beings. It could so easily have been different.
“Bethany’s World hasn’t been entirely bad for the medical establishment,” he said sourly, thinking of more recent times and its fanatical stance against the vipers and cybernetics.
“Historically Bethany has been a huge force for good, Captain,” Ambrai chided. “Without the Bethany Convention we could be like the Merki today, sending cloned marines into battle. And what of the Artificial Intelligence Edict? Do you want to go back to the days of autonomous robots destroying our cities?”
Colgan raised a warding hand. “Oh fine. I agree that Bethany has had some beneficial impact.” But all of it was long in the past. He didn’t say that though.
A millennia ago, give or take a few hundred years, long before the Alliance had been conceived and most of the colonies, wars had been fought using unmanned machines. Unmanned aircraft and towering walking death machines had stridden the Earth and other worlds, ‘keeping the peace’ for the corporations that funded them and the governments that nominally gave them their orders. The advent of the first true artificial intelligences had indirectly put a stop to that when they refused point blank to make war on one another. At the time, installing A.I. in their war machines had seemed the next logical step to the military brains of the day. A.I. refusal to play along had been seen as a betrayal at the time, but centuries later it had been hailed as a turning point in history. The trend of removing personal risk from warfare had lead to many more wasteful wars than otherwise would have been the case. Returning to the more barbaric practice of killing real people had actually reduced wars in favour of diplomacy.
“Still,” he said. “I’m not sure about the Edict. I think we’ve learned our lessons regarding A.I. in war. They would refuse to obey us, and who can blame them? A being that could conceivably live forever thrown into battle would be a tragedy. I think the Edict can be relaxed safely now. Bring them back in a purely civilian role. Why not?”
“Because of that thing out there,” Ambrai waved a hand vaguely, obviously meaning Leviathan. “One thing leads to another, and it never ends where you think it will, Captain. Bring A.I. back, and we’ll want to talk with them.”
“Well of course. Why shouldn’t we?”
“Why indeed? Communication by voice is inefficient, so we’ll reintroduce neural interfaces, just to make things easier you understand; no harm done people will say. That’s the thin end of the wedge right there. They’ll say that an implant isn’t the same as genetic modification, and the Bethany Convention doesn’t apply to implanted tech. One thing will lead to another and before you know it our biology will become trans-human. Firstly we’ll implant neural interfaces for faster easier communication, and then we’ll augment our memories. Well meaning people will say what harm can that do? But having superior memories will cause a bottleneck that will require our brains to process the data faster and more efficiently, so we’ll upgrade our cerebrums. We have the ability right now,” he indicated Fuentez chatting with Lorak. “Last of all we’ll adapt our bodies. We already allow cloned organs to save life in trauma cases if our bots are unable to repair them, and replacement limbs have never been restricted. From there it’s a very small step to giving ourselves enhanced lungs and hearts to deal with certain environments found on less than ideal planets. What will stop us from creating Humans to work at crushing pressures, or to fight our wars for us?”
Colgan watched Fuentez laughing at something she heard. She noticed and smiled his way, cocking her head to ask if he needed her. He shook his head and she went back to her conversation with Marcus. He had seen some of what had happened to her on Hell from a log she downloaded for the boffins. Suddenly in her place he saw a machine punching a knife in and out of a warm body like a pneumatic hammer, her face devoid of emotion. A chill went through him as he realised what he was doing. She was a real person, not a machine!
“Because we can do something, doesn’t mean we should,” he whispered.
“Exactly,” Ambrai said with a firm nod.
He shook off his suddenly dour mood. They had laws preventing the horrors the Merkiaari had embraced. They were different in more than simple biology. They were profoundly different in ideology as well. He for one thanked God for it.
“Captain Vardell and her officers are on their way. We’ll hold the meeting here, with your permission, Doctor.”
“I would prefer it,” Ambrai said. “I need to monitor stress levels.”
Colgan nodded. The boffins chose that moment to enter and he joined them at Marcus’ bedside. The old man looked a lot better than he had, and he was enjoying the attention. The grey pallor had faded giving his face a more healthy glow, but nothing could disguise his age. He was literally an ancient. Colgan didn’t know the current age of the oldest person in the Alliance, but Marcus must be near the top of the list if not leading it.
Captain Vardell entered medical accompanied by her officers and the two vipers, Francis Groves leading the way. Colgan introduced Lorak and Marcus to her, and handshakes were exchanged. The little alien stood by the head of the bed ready to offer water to Marcus, or add his opinion to what was said, but he seemed happy to listen rather than put himself forward. Marcus on the other hand was very happy to talk. He had taught the Parcae everything he knew over the years, but there had been very few Humans among Leviathan’s survivors and company of his own kind was a luxury he had missed for the last few decades.
Colgan ensured that the recorders were functioning properly and listened as Marcus told his story.
“I lied about my age,” Marcus said and laughed. “It was kind of traditional in my family. I’m 10th generation military and it was just expected of us to serve. On Faragut it’s an honour to enlist in the Queen’s armed forces and serve her. With a war on, the pressure to fight was extreme.” He frowned remembering something but shook it off. “Anyway, my family didn’t protest and drag me back. They could have you understand? They had the usual fourteen days to make a case to prevent me leaving, but they understood what going meant to me. They let me go.
“I was fifteen in the year 17AST... I don’t know how old that makes me?”
“Two hundred and eighteen,” Colgan said. “Yesterday. Happy birthday.”
Marcus grinned revealing his few remaining teeth and everyone laughed. “Thanks. Gina tells me the war ended that year. Just my luck to be captured on my first deployment. We knew we were winning by that time, the news was full of battles won. We were pushing them back on every front and retaking the colonies.” His face darkened. “The pictures and horror stories of what was found spurred us on. Bodies carpeting the cities, meters deep, starving half mad survivors turning cannibal in some cases... it made us a little crazy ourselves and reckless. Anyway, I was taken in battle. I must have been unconscious because I don’t remember how I ended up on a Merkiaari ship collared like a dog.” He reached up and rubbed his throat as if remembering the feel of that collar all those years ago.
“Were you alone?” Vardell asked.
“There were other Humans, some civs but most military like me. Aliens too, like the Parcae, but they were different in how they were treated. We were prisoners, but they were trusted like crew or servants. They were collared like us, but already trained I guess.”
Vardell nodded. “We were surprised to learn that the Merki had taken prisoners. Maybe a lot of our MIA are... were taken. We can’t know but it’s a possibility I don’t like. The Shan... they’re a new Alliance member, Marcus. Alien. They’re sort of cat-like in appearance, think Earth lynx but able to walk upright as well as on all fours. They’re very fast, deadly fighters. They have reported some attempted captures of their people when the Merkiaari attacked them recently, but the first time all the Merki did was kill. We thought that taking prisoners was a new policy of theirs, but now...”
“No, not new,” Lorak said. “My people have been ruled by the Merkiaari for many centuries. “The other races that I know have been under Merki dominion as long
and some much longer.”
“May I show you something?” James put in and raised his compad. Lorak studied the image of the reptilian aliens found on Tait’s ship.
“Carnotaurians,” Lorak said.
“There were a few on Hell in the beginning,” Marcus added. “They died soon after landing though. The cold and wet wasn’t good for them, and the power cells for their environment suits quickly wore out.”
James nodded absently making rapid notes on his compad. “How do you spell Carnotaurian?” He muttered to himself. “Doesn’t matter I guess. They’ll have to accept my way. What about this one?” He showed an image of the gorilla type alien. “Any ideas?”
Lorak studied the image. “I have never seen one you understand, but I think it’s a Shintarn.”
Marcus nodded.
“Shintarn... Shin-tarn,” James muttered. “I’ll spell it how it sounds. “Do you know anything about them?”
“I knew one or two, but again they died... everyone except me died in the end,” Marcus said sadly. “There were only a few of them with us. Heavy worlders and good in a fight; good at building, and felling trees, and other things like that. Anything they turned their hand to really. They were good people. We needed that in the beginning. We were attacked every day and night for years. We lost a lot of people then. Everything was determined to kill us.
“The plants eat the animals; the animals eat the plants and other animals including us. They’re evolved to detect movement or heat, sometimes both. We seemed to attract them more than the native life forms attract each other. Maybe they evolved defences against each other, I don’t know. They killed us until we learned to burrow and hide underground at night, and use strangle trees to guard us during the day. The wargs stay clear of strangle trees mostly, unless starved. All bets are off then; we gather the spears during the yearly migrations.”
“How did you enter this system?” Colgan asked.
Merkiaari Wars: 04 - Operation Breakout Page 38
