Starship Genesis

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by Linda M. Miller


  I raise my hands to the sky. “Thank you, ground penetrating radar,” I yell with a smile. “...for a very successful dig.” The radar enables us to find dig sites that would otherwise go undiscovered.

  “Matt, you’re silly.” Leesa shakes her head. She brushes the sweat from her forehead. No wind today. It’s January and it’s hot. With the steep mountain range between us and the coastal plains, we often get a nice breeze from the canyon. But not today. The area is composed of dense brush, and tall mountains as far as the eye can see. The very top of the mountains are snow covered year round.

  “Watch out for the snakes, Hans.” Frank advises.

  “Snakes? What kind of snakes,” Hans asks.

  Hans hired on late in the season. His visa finally came through and this is his first day on the dig. Ironically, it’s the last day as well.

  “Don’t worry, Hans. Frank is just referring to the many forms of venomous snakes in this area.” Ray pulls himself up from the hole.

  Leesa is photographing the clay pots.

  “Yes, but what you really have to look out for are the large tarantulas. Darn things are large enough to hunt birds.” Leesa then points her camera at Ray and Hans who are covered with dirt. “Smile guys.”

  “How you and Matt got started in this work.” Hans asks.

  “We served together in Iraq. You get used to this mode of living in the rough when you’re living in a desert. Right Matt?”

  “You two were in Iraq?”

  I’m drowning in sweat and I slap a mosquito on my right arm. “Yeah, that taught us some survival skills alright.”

  “While we were in Iraq, we were able to visit some sites on our furloughs.” Ray adds.

  “What sites? Did you go to Egypt?”

  “We went on furlough to Israel and visited places like Petra in Jordan. Iraq, alone, has tons of sites dating back to Babylon and the Roman ruins.” Ray tells him.

  “Yeah, there might not be much left now that bad guys have destroyed or sold everything in sight!” I add.

  Hans looks surprised. “I had no idea. So what will you do when you leave here next week? Is this the end of the project for the year?”

  “There’s always something to do in archeology, Hans.” Frank advises. “Our university team, managed by Drs. Matthew Vaughan and Raymond Smith alternate our digs to the continental seasons. From November to March we’re here in the southern hemisphere in Peru for Albemarle University. And from May to September, we search for sunken ships in the northern hemisphere.”

  “My first love.” I say.

  Leesa hits me.

  “Next to, Kim, that is.” I add quickly.

  “We’ll be back next November, Hans. After all, South American history is the least understood of all the continents! Just ask yourself where these people came from. What brought them here?”

  Frank continues, “In Asian and Middle-Eastern history there are records and artifacts that can be dated back thousands of years while their historical counterparts in South America are far more evasive. Think of the Nazca lines?”

  “Yeah, just soak it all in, Hans. This place is so humid, it’s like a sponge that has to be wrung out before you can use it,” Leesa cries.

  “Let’s open this pot.” I suggest.

  “Good idea, Matt.” Ray responds “Why don’t you do the honors?”

  We carry it to the covered work area. It’s a large pot and it takes at least four of us to carry it.

  “Careful, gentlemen. This isn’t time for rock and roll.” Ray cautions. The lid is sealed with a cement.

  “Hand me a chisel and a hammer.” I carefully chisel the lid from the pot.

  “Ohhhh...” the top rim cracks a little and the lid is loosed.

  So far these Incan ruins are the oldest yet discovered in the west. Each mummy has been found buried in a large clay vessel. The lids on some are still intact. The clay burial vessels range from approximately four feet to five and a-half feet tall and three feet wide, depending on the size of the mummy. Many are women and children.

  The female mummies are adorned with jewelry. The males usually have weapons, spears, bows or hardened copper knives buried with them. They even have food which is probably meant for their enjoyment in the after- life.

  I remove the lid...“What the...?”

  “Red hair?” Ray proclaims in astonishment? “In Peru?” “Wait a minute...wait a minute. Give me a little room.” I say.

  “She’s holding something.” It takes a little effort to unwrap her arms without breaking them. I move her arms away delicately, and lift what appears to be a box.

  “This box is made of stone. Help me here, Ray.”

  “Give us some room guys.” Ray adds. We finally lift the box and I move it to the table.

  “Look at the glyphs...all over this. It’s...It’s similar to...”

  “Egyptian, Matt.” Ray shakes his head. “It’s similar to....”

  “Egyptian.” I repeat. Everyone is exhilarated. Excitement and laughter ensues throughout the camp.

  “Well, Matt, this will help with next year’s funds alone!” Ray exclaims. Excavation funds have been running low. Each precious dollar has been stretched to the penny. Soon the rainy season will deluge the area and make further work altogether impossible.

  “Nice work, Matt.” Ray tells me.

  “Yeah, I think we should open it, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Look guys,” Leesa reminds us. “Today is our actual last dig day. We need to start cleaning up and packing. Remember? Before the rains come.” Leesa is the practical partner of the bunch. My colleague, Ray, is my right-hand best bud. We met in the military and discovered our common interests. We run these excavations together. Both Ray and I made the rank of Captain in Iraq. Here, technically, I’m in charge. But we’re really equals. There’s no power struggle here. We’re as good as brothers.

  “You guys go clean up, and I’ll open this.” I look at Leesa. She’s giving me the hard nose again.

  “It’s only noon, we still have time.” Each day’s findings are painstakingly catalogued. Eventually, the locations and positions will be recorded and correlated using a computer to provide us a 3-D layout of the dig displaying each find and its relationship to the location it was found.

  Leesa Wong was hired to photograph our finds. She’s also an artist. If the contrast is not good enough, Leesa will draw it in. She includes cracks and shards in detail. Leesa takes pictures before I open the stone box.

  “So our little red head was holding this box, Matt?”

  “It’s very heavy.” I tell her.

  “What’s a red head doing in a South American dig?” she asks.

  “I’m hoping we’re about to find out when I open this,” I reply. I begin to chisel away at the bottom of the lid.

  “The only explanation I can give you is South American architecture often exhibits evidence of multi-cultural characteristics, including those of middle-eastern and Asian descent.”

  “She doesn’t look Asian to me, Matt,” Leesa replies.

  “Yeah. I know.” I reply.

  “Yeah, for all you know Matt, she’s a leprechaun and this is a pot of gold.” She rudely insinuates.

  “Too tall, my dear.” I return. “So far, it looks like it’s been the custom of this people to bury their deceased wrapped in patterned wool and cotton-like materials. But this one is different altogether.”

  I’m careful to chisel without scraping anything.

  “I’ll send these pics back to Albemarle, Matt. We have to find an interpreter; probably Mobley, you think?”

  “Yeah, Dr. Mobley, for sure. But he’s been busy with Stonehenge of late. Not sure he’s going to get to this one any time soon.”

  I skip lunch to open the stone box. Everyone else is celebrating the moment.

  I gaze at the red-haired female mummy. “Who are you?” I ask myself.

  Research grants do not entitle one to a high society lifestyle. It is a rustic lifestyle for the
most part, living in the dirt. Makes you feel like a kid again. Plus, the thrills of the find and adventure in a foreign land make up for the comforts you leave behind. It is the only reason we would suffer through the hottest climates in South America this time of year.

  “Any luck, Matt?” Ray asks.

  “This one is going to take a little longer, I’m afraid.”

  The day is almost over, yet my mind continues to race because of curiosity.

  “Maybe there’s a map to the city of gold, or something like that?” Frank asks. I expect those kinds of remarks. But who am I kidding?

  “Careful.” I tell myself. “Don’t damage it.”

  The cement seal gradually surrenders its grip. I carefully chisel the seal away, bit by bit. It has taken three hours to do this. Finally! I lift the lid from the box.

  “Oh, it’s just an egg.” I react in astonishment.

  A crystal-like, egg shaped stone is revealed. It’s beautiful, and it undulates in colors of aqua-blue and pink like a star in the night sky. Obviously some kind of a gem. I can only stare in awe as the colors shift position and vary in intensity. Then I notice it sits on a plate that appears to be made of pure gold.

  “Look at this...LOOK AT THIS.” I exclaim to Ray. I lift it out of the box with the egg intact.

  Silence and anticipation follows. Ray gasps.

  “Matt,” Ray shook his head. “This is beyond anything we’ve ever found. Look at the inscriptions...vertical line patterns... composed of what appear to be...fine pin pricks.”

  “How could anyone from their time period have made anything like this?” I ask out loud. The stone glows brightly. Unbeknownst to me, our colleagues gather around us as we stare in disbelief. Soon the entire camp joins to view the find.

  “Guys, we need to secure this,” I tell them. “There’s no telling what this is worth.”

  This is the ‘find’ of a lifetime. We secure the stone and its plate, putting it back in the box. We lock it into the safe. Ray pats me on the back.

  “Congrats, Matt. This one will definitely pay for our digs for a few seasons. We’re big time now.”

  “Let’s pack this up.” I tell him. The next day I prepare a report on the find, which includes written descriptions and photos of the stone box only. These will be sent to our office in the U.S. via satellite link to research the glyphs. Clearly, help will be needed to assess the artifact. We pack up, and prepare to go home. Each excavation must be backfilled in hopes that the site will be protected from looters. Soon, the rains will cover all traces of the camp and in a few weeks no one will know we were here. A Peruvian National Parks requirement.

  I anticipate another warm summer in the D.C. Metropolitan area.

  “So what’s next, Matt? You going skiing in Argentina?” asks Leesa from her rental car.

  “Not this year,” I reply. “I’ll miss little Switzerland.” I sigh. “I’ve got a wedding to prepare for. And I want to follow-up on this egg. Have fun in Mexico, Leesa.” She departs for the airport. Days pass as we return home to Maryland and Albemarle University. We have concluded it’s best to keep the stone box and its contents under wraps until we quietly ascertain whether similar finds have been discovered.

  THE GENESIS CREW RESUMES ITS MISSION

  We’re en route to the last site that Deonna selected just prior to our loss of TerraNorre. We should reach that system in 14 hours.

  “What have you got, Deonna?” I ask. Deonna pulls up the holographic chart and begins,

  “The solar system has at least nine planets. Look at the rings around that one planet.”

  “It’s beautiful, Deonna.” Cassie marvels.

  “But the third planet looks the most promising. It currently has one very large continent. Look at how blue it is. I really think this one is the most exciting yet.”

  “I wouldn’t mind living there,” Talon adds.

  “And it looks like it’s currently experiencing a climate change. There’s a lot of ice in the far northern and southern hemispheres. Most of the planet is ocean.”

  “Looks promising,” I add. “Have you checked thoroughly for life forms?”

  “None so far. And no plant life on land or in the oceans.”

  “Congratulations! Let’s plot where we’ll plant the seeds then.”

  We carefully map and develop a temperature profile of the entire planet’s surface.

  “The planet’s core is surrounded by molten magma.”

  “What does that mean?” Cassie asks.

  “It means,” Talon answers, “That with the rotation, the molten core is creating a magnetic field that should fully protect life from the star’s solar bursts and other radiation.

  “What’s with the little red blip here,” I ask.

  “Oh, I saw that earlier, Korban.” Deonna replies. “I checked it out. It didn’t show up until after the ships fired on us at Seth 5. I think we took on some damage to one of the outer sensor ray units. If it was serious, however, you would have seen it in your navigation.” She explains.

  “You’re probably right.” I reply. “Which brings up the subject, how did Seth 5 know we were coming since we didn’t announce our arrival in advance? It seems to me they were waiting for us.”

  Silence.

  “They could have been scanning for other ships, because of the holocaust,” Garner quickly counters.

  “Yes, but that’s not what really happened, is it Garner?”

  I walk over to Garner and pick up him by his shirt.

  “What did they promise you, Garner? The command of this ship?”

  “No, Korban. I swear I didn’t contact them.”

  “Check the backup coms, Noah.” Garner flushes because he forgot about that.

  “Yes, Garner, I keep backups of everything. 300 years of experience has taught me that much.”

  Cassie stops me.

  “Korban, it’s too late for that now. What’s happened has happened.”

  “We’ll all be watching you now, Garner.” I tell him. “Back to you, Deonna.”

  “The planet is certainly capable of supporting life.” Deonna responds.

  “I see lightning storms surging in the stratosphere over here in the central area of the continent. So we’ll have to be careful navigating around all of that.” Talon adds.

  “Point taken.” I reply. “Let’s pick the most promising areas to plant the seeds. Noah, check to see how many are left. We should have twelve remaining.”

  Noah counts and replies. “12.” He laughs. “Amazing, aren’t they? Just think if we were around long enough, we’d have a future home.” Noah says admiringly. “I know I haven’t been involved in the specs of these things. But now I’m just curious how it all works.”

  Tears well up in Deonna’s eyes.

  “How appropriate. I’ve often thought the same thing. One life seed is the size and shape of an egg with genetic codes imprinted into them of every known life form indigenous to TerraNorre.” Deonna tells Noah. “Each egg possesses the ability to synthesize each gene and chromosome locked inside its memory.” she continues.

  “Does it just happen? Or do you have to set it to work?” Noah asks.

  “I could show you when we plant one. Would you like to join us?”

  “Yes. I would.” Noah replies. Up until this time, Noah has been standoffish from the life seeds planting process. I suppose our mission is taking on a healing spirit for the crew and me.

  Deonna lays them out on the table on the gold plated stand.

  “So Cassie, Noah, you’ll both be interested to know that when we activate the seeds, it leaves an imprint on these plates so that we have a record of where they have been planted.”

  “Why gold plates?” Cassie asks. “Why not just a hologram?”

  “Because the gold is indestructible over time.” Deonna answers. “The hologram most likely will not last over centuries of time. But the gold left in this box will. It’s a permanent record for our descendants.”

  “You shoul
d see the egg once it’s been activated,” Talon adds. “They glow in various vibrant colors.”

  “Do the colors mean anything?” Noah asks.

  “They could. But this process takes thousands of years. We aren’t even certain it’s going to work.” Deonna comments.

  “No evidence?” Noah asks.

  “That’s why it’s an experiment.” Deonna says. “It also depends on the environment it is set up in. And we don’t actually activate them. They activate themselves. The Life Seeds are in a suspended state until they are activated by nourishment. When the egg receives nourishment its viral processors begin to replicate.”

 

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