Prophecy

by Paula Bradley

  “We were perplexed. With our technology, there would be no need to engineer a compound if a living form existed for we could have set up entire colonies—planets, even—to grow amounts sufficient for our needs. Further experimentation proved that, though there remained less than three percent difference between dicit-E and dicit-H, the percentage held unaccountable dissimilarities. Thus, our first conclusion: dicit-H was not the biologically engineered adaptation of dicit-E.” His narration slowed so the Three could digest the information just presented.

  “The question then: if dicit-E from Earth was not the prime of dicit-H from Hakilam, whence the prime for both? And, most importantly, why no extensive data?”

  Chapter 11

  Sateron stopped and looked to Aleris, not wishing to continue if his colleague felt a need to expound. Receiving a nod to continue, he drew in a deep breath and turned back to the humans, his expressive face a study in frustration and anger.

  “As you are aware, the Min’yel’os control all fabrication ofdicit-Hwhich is designed to regenerate cells and extend Anorasian life. But in extending life, little evolution occurs. Why would the governing body of the Empire wish to hinder the growth and adaptation of its most highly evolved species?”

  The humans had previously learned that ten members of the Synadracus, the official governing body of Hakilam, had their essence infused into a controlled intelligence environment, the objective being immortality. Idealistically, this assemblage reasoned that, if free from the constraints of a corporeal body and from emotional entanglements associated with a finite existence, a ruling body could govern more logically and dispassionately.

  “Dicit-H has a measurable span, as you have learned. Each time it is teleported into our vital fluid, the effect is less than the previous. And the teleportation is mandatory, first introduced into every Anorasian’s system at the age of three hundred years, some one to two hundred years prior to a natural demise.

  “The first introduction extends life approximately fifteen hundred years; the next teleportation, possibly thirteen hundred. And so on. Eventually the cells will no longer regenerate at approximately three thousand years old ... and death occurs.” Sateron seethed through nearly clenched teeth. “To the Min’yel’os, dicit-H alone was not deemed sufficient to slow evolution. Geneticists were tasked with creating an ultimate population controller. And thus was evolved a seminal hormone disrupter administered to every male each time it receives dicit-H. The disrupter has a twelve-hour delay: it allows the dicit to regenerate cells prior to the hormone’s destruction of sperm. If They need another Anorasian born, a male Anorasian is not given the hormone disrupter and an appropriate female is provided.”

  His jaw rigid, he grated, “If an Anorasian has value to the Min’yel’os once its cells can no longer be rejuvenated, his or her essence is transmigrated into a clone. Aleris and I have been cloned twice. However ... if They so determine ... that an Anorasian is of no further use to them ...” Sateron drew in a shaky breath, pain etching his features, his voice tight and low ...“dicit-H is withheld and the Anorasian dies slowly, painfully. No better way to control a populace than by holding out everlasting life as a reward or threatening it with an agonizing, undignified termination.” With eyes unfocused, Sateron stared over their heads as he vainly attempted a professorial monotone.

  “Thus our descendants have not differed from our ancestors morphologically or physiologically with the passage of eons.”

  Sateron’s torment was evident in the sudden slouch of his shoulders as he sat heavily back on the rock. The humans grieved in commiseration. Aleris picked up the thread, allowing Sateron time to hold himself apart in his distress.

  “Immortality is an abomination. With no end to life, the Min’yel’os have lost touch with sentiency and have become remote from the variant species in their Empire. Also did they lose the joy of living and the creativity that accompanies a measured existence. Their rule is as master to slave: those they govern are objects in the fruitless expansion of their bloated Empire. There are data records in the archives that allude to uprisings against them, but with forces loyal—more likely terrified of termination—they seem invincible.”

  Aleris was irate, an emotion rarely seen in the geneticist. Sateron remained mute, his eyes hooded, the suffering of his species a raw wound in his heart.

  “There were those who claimed they knew of distorted data in the genetic archives of Hakilam,” Aleris continued. “Intrigued, we investigated cautiously and encountered extensive manipulation of documentation and missing data. Others clandestinely joined our cause. We debated ways to halt the oppression of the Min’yel’os, to destroy their rule and to return our species’ ability to procreate. There was no conclusive evidence of this skewed information ... until we discovered the moss-like entity growing now in the Humid Zone.”

  Sateron’s eyes lost their misery as he focused once more on the gathering before him. Exploding off the rock he seemed to swell, pride and optimism natural attributes of this alien who had dedicated his life to ending the miasma that enveloped his species. At nearly seven feet in height and two hundred and seventy pounds, he was of the Ton, the category given to those who served the government directly, the most highly regarded in the Empire; and Re, the sub-classification of scientist, the most prized by the Min’yel’os. Most assuredly he had terrified the diminutive natives of Earth, his mahogany-colored skin almost purple in the light, nearly black in the dark. And when they looked into his eyes and beheld the black elongated irises and pupils surrounded by lemon-tinted eyeballs, they believed they were in the presence of great evil.

  Aleris nodded and Sateron took up the telling. “The realization that Eocene dicit’ledoni grew naturally was what began our quest.” His voice had returned to its previous dynamism. “There were no records in any archives of dicit in any form, except for the engineered complexity on Hakilam. We concluded that the Min’yel’os must have had all natural forms of dicit destroyed once it could be fabricated. finding dicit-E on Earth further corroborated our suspicions about their subterfuge. We instinctively knew the key to our emancipation from this racial atrocity would be tied to Earth—and dicit-E. We queried: Why did they fear us? Who were we to cause such apprehension?” His eyes alight with the fire of righteousness, Sateron’s body quivering with suppressed excitement, his restlessness contagious.

  “We needed a laboratory in which to conduct our experiments, some place shielded from psychic probe and accidental discovery. In searching archaic galaxy charts for suitable locations, we found the star system Zubeln and then used androids designed for primary planetary exploration to calculate orbital changes in the star system over a specified span of time.

  “Understandably, Zubeln’s three planets appeared to have never been colonized, each one nothing more than wastelands of blowing sand and electrical storms. This one, Izorach, proved a perfect location. It had several hundred canyons that created fantastical winds, electrically charged debris that swirled hundreds of feet in the air and a high concentration of static in the particulate. All combined threw a psychic ‘blanket,’ a blockage of ability, over the planet.

  “This be a condition intolerable to Anorasians. We fear disruption in psychic connections as much as humans fear loss of vision.

  “It took nearly two thousand years to complete construction of this laboratory, for we did not wish to arouse suspicions by requisitioning large amounts of construction androids and material. Standing one half mile in height with a radius of one mile and a circumference of three, it is a testimony to patience and persistence.”

  Chapter 12

  Aleris stood, eager to take up the tale. With a bow and a nod, Sateron graciously relinquished the audience.

  “We collected specimens from all forms of life on Earth,” Aleris said in a calm and neutral voice that fooled no one. “We manipulated DNA codes and produced new species. Also, to our amazement, we discovered fifty percent of th
ese new species resembled those common to Hakilam. Although we knew that dicit-E was not the source of dicit-H, nevertheless did we begin to realize that somehow, Earth had direct ties to Hakilam.” The Anorasian continued now in a voice filled with undisguised delight.

  “It was our junior geologist, Maka’rius, who made the discovery which solidified our assumptions. From his personal transport vehicle, he performed low resolution scans of magnetic fields near Earth in search of deviations. He dropped altitude, completing his investigation with higher resolution scans, using the same instruments that measure minute fluctuations in a planet’s geomagnetic fields. In the northern hemisphere, Maka’rius found a crater in a body of water that measured one hundred and fifty miles in diameter: he thought it evidence of a tremendous meteorite impact. Into the crater he teleported a Particle Survey Device, which began to sample the layers of rock one thousand feet deep into the cavity. His laboratory instrumentation confirmed his supposition: the presence of iridium and chondrules left no doubt it was a meteorite, and the crust analysis proved that impact had occurred approximately sixty-five million years in the past.”

  Fascinated, the humans watched the aliens psychically flash triumph between them. All were now on their feet, even the sedate and placid Siddhartha.

  “Ton Re’Deutriion, he who was Master to Maka’rius and another ally, conducted the geological investigation of Izorach. The canyons captivated his interest as no other project had done for centuries. Maka’rius was most eager to accompany his Master, but Deutriion would conduct this experiment alone. He knew the psychic disruptions would be easier for him to manage than for his young apprentice.” Aleris’ voice quavered. All manner of recitation mode was gone with the increased excitement.

  “It was there he found two anomalies that solidified our goal: two discoveries that opened the first of many portals.”

  Aleris paused, noting that Sateron fairly burst with the need to speak. With a smile, he took up the telling, his voice filled with expectancy.

  “Deutriion found irrefutable evidence that a colossal meteorite shower occurred on Izorach at the precise same time as did on Earth. Spectral analysis proved that the meteorites were made of the same material, but the impact on Izorach was more devastating, creating craters over seven miles wide. Coincidence? Never! The odds would be incalculable. Here was evidence both planets were intentionally destroyed, an atrocity perpetrated by a government bent on committing genocide.

  “Our colleague then found one-cell fossil remains imbedded in strata five hundred feet below bedrock in the Agrist K’anna—with DNA codes matching dicit-E by ninety-nine point six percent and dicit-Hby ninety-eight point eight percent!” Feet braced apart, Sateron’s breath quickened as his chest expanded and his fist punched the air.

  “Now have we substantiation that the source prime for both the Hakilam biologically-engineered complexity and the living entity on Earth is dicit-I, originating on Izorach.” Grinning delightedly at their open-mouthed stares, the geneticist had still more.

  “The other find was microorganisms from bone cells, the DNA code proving them to be from sentient beings. All our records indicate that Anorasians were the only species with space travel sixty-five million years past. Therefore, we are certain Izorach and Earth were both inhabited by Anorasians.”

  The facts were staggering. Sixty-five million years ago, the Min’yel’os had sent a bombardment of meteorites that would annihilate millions in an attempt to destroy not only the planet of Izorach (along with Ashtawr and Noreptal, its sister planets in the Zubeln Star System), but also Earth. All for the sake of a moss-like entity that could regenerate cells.

  Breathing heavily, Sateron said, “Here, follow our conclusions. The Min’yel’os desired to demolish Izorach, the only known natural source of dicit without it seeming to be what it was: the extermination of a planet teeming with life, just to keep control of a cell regenerator. Thus did they need to create rumors of sedition on several planets to justify sending punishment in the form of meteorites, a warning to those who would defy their authority.

  “Previously, Izorachian scientists had need to implant dicit on another planet to see if its capabilities would change. Consequently did they discover that Earth was a planet of similar environment and conducive to growth of the entity. Obviously, they could not have known it was coincidentally slated for destruction.” His chest heaved as if he exerted physically.

  “So they teleported dicit-I to the scientists on Earth. The Eocene dicit’ledoni thrived. And eventually mutated, probably due to a virus.

  “It has nearly the same properties as the dicit-Iprime. Notice, I say ‘nearly.’ We theorized initially its dissimilarities to dicit-H and dicit-Iof no consequence, as you three have shown no uniqueness. However, the teleportation of dicit-E into the human female, Mariah Carpenter, has proven our assumptions incorrect.”

  Sateron stopped speaking, throwing back his head and laughing in that deep bass which made the ground tremble. With the light waning, his skin seemed to darken as his silver eyes gleamed intensely. In the silence, Emmanuel spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. “And is this the whole story?”

  The alien’s smile broadened, his pointed teeth white against his dark skin. His voice was soft, yet still rang clear and strong.

  “To borrow an expression I found on one of your digital media transmissions—not by a long shot.”

  Chapter 13

  He had no more finished his cell phone conversation when his door flew open, banging against the wall behind it.

  It was Raphael, his eyes wide, his body tight with fear. Winters didn’t need to ask what was wrong: he was on his feet, pushing the boyfriend back out of the office. The only thing that would cause the man this kind of agitation was Mariah Carpenter.

  Raphael headed toward the kitchen, Winters breathing down his neck. As they entered the room, Winters stepped around Raphael who had come to an abrupt halt, the object of his anxiety standing in the middle of the room.

  Winters walked around the still form. He didn’t know his eyes widened imperceptibly as he stared at Carpenter’s face.

  She appeared to be relaxed; however, she was too still. Her hands dangled at her sides as she stared straight ahead, the pupils of her eyes to some point beyond them. Before making a comment, Winters also noticed that she was barely breathing. No, that wasn’t it: she took oxygen in but didn’t take another breath for sixty seconds.

  “Ms. Carpenter,” he said quietly but firmly. Nothing. No reaction. “Ms. Carpenter.” This time his voice was authoritative, tight and expressionless, the voice she always hated.

  Zilch. No change in her unblinking eyes, the color of which were almost black due to the enlargement of the pupils.

  “She doesn’t look like she’s in pain. She finished breakfast. We were talking about what we were going to do today, and...” Raphael was babbling, but Winters remained still, taking in the information, “...and suddenly she stopped moving and talking. I put my hand on her shoulder,”—Raphael repeated the action in case Winters didn’t understand what he’d meant—“and she felt like a block of wood. I spoke directly in her ear. She didn’t react. Then I left her and went straight to your office.” He sounded like a frightened child who had run for daddy because his sister had fallen out of a tree.

  Winters reached for the miniature flashlight he always carried in his pocket and shone the bright light in Mariah’s eyes.

  No reaction in her pupils. No change whatsoever. He was at a loss. His instant thoughts were “doctor” and “hospital,” but somehow he instinctively knew they could do nothing for her.

  Straightening, he spoke to Raphael, his tone assuring and loud enough to break through the boyfriend’s concentration on his girlfriend. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. She’s done some strange things before, too numerous to count, and I imagine it’s just another phase of her development.” He saw Raphael’s anxiety lessen slightly, so h
e went on. “I think she’s in some kind of trance. Maybe she’s exploring the galaxy or her brain is ready for her to become proficient at vanishing.”

  It had the desired effect. Raphael relaxed, even smiled. With a large inhalation of air, he said, “You’re right. I just freak when she does something like this.” Almost to himself he murmured, “When’s it going to stop?”

  #

  If they only knew what had happened to cause Mariah to become entranced, they would have been a lot more than uncomfortable.

  Something had touched her mind. Instinctively, she had thrown up a block, but it was too powerful. It meant no harm, she felt no malevolence, but it was something strange and unyielding. She had no idea what (or who) it was, but she wouldn’t fight it. She doubted she could.

  With a blue glowing light so intense it made Winters and Raphael cover their eyes, Mariah, once again, became engulfed in its embrace.

  And in that warm brilliance, she felt a familiar touch.

  Serenity enveloped her mind, as miraculous as the first time he came to her. His familiar embrace was, at first fierce, and then protective. Energy flowed from his body into hers.

  She knew who held her, who joined his life force with hers—and her spirit soared in elation. Was her head actually pressing against his chest? Was the sound she heard the steady and hypnotic rhythm of his heart?

  Take me with you, Father. Her lips never moved, and no sound came out: it was her mind that spoke to his. The request was automatic, without thought.

  She felt his warm hands move from her back to clasp her shoulders as he gently moved her apart from him, leaving a chilling sensation of abandonment. She opened her eyes. His gaze was both sorrowful and helpless.