The Genetic Imperative

by P. Joseph Cherubino

Cordelia hesitated again. Not long, but just long enough to tell Nina she was adjusting and hiding something.

  “Limited contact was authorized. We needed to know more about them. Specifically, why they seemed to develop beyond their purpose of providing genetic material for our species. It was a simple strategic question. Their technology and societies are evolving to the point where they are beginning to influence their own development. This is an aberration. It has become harder to find the Source Human now for two generations. This current seed mission will be particularly difficult.”

  This was too fantastic to be true. It sounded like a delusional fever dream. Nina tried to follow the logic. Earth was the source of genetic expression that produced the Advocates. The Advocates are that expression fully realized. No other known species was specialized for war as a specific intention of their genome. That was the entire point of Advocate existence. No other race could counter the Silicoids as they did. The cases to prove this were simply every race that tried to face the Silicoids or those who were forced to do so. Each species fell or was saved by Advocates. And in most cases, they were occupied and folded into Advocate Protectorate. If what Cordelia said was true, then the expression had suddenly changed. But why? It made no sense.

  “Did you bring me here to tell me this?” Nina demanded.

  “Yes. And also to see you. To show you this place. But yes, primarily to tell you this, among a great many other reasons.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Much. I want much. More than you know. First, I want you to know these things.”

  “What good will it do?”

  “It will do the same good that you did on the Third Arm.”

  “Which was nothing,” Nina hissed and moved to stand, and Cordelia touched her arm. “Stay. Please…” she said. Nina settled back down into the chair for a reason she didn’t understand. The sullen soldier stared at her, through her, from the kitchen. Tove stopped pacing.

  “You don’t realize it yet, but you started something. Things were already changing, but what you did was completely new. You defied the Queen’s command.”

  “I defied Olthan’s command!” Nina spat, and it was the first time she used the name of the Orbital Fleet Commander since that officer ordered her to die.

  “And who do you think gives her orders?”

  “You are saying that the Queen ordered us to die?”

  “The Queen has ordered billions of us to die for one-hundred-thousand years.”

  “She orders us to fight.”

  “Which is the same as dying.”

  “Not if you’re good at it.”

  “Don’t you think Tove was good at fighting?” Cordelia asked.

  For the first time that evening, Cordelia’s voice contained heat.

  “She was infected you know,” Cordelia continued, “through the eye. A trigger spore gouged it out, sent shadow cells to her brain. I killed it. The engineers wanted to leave her for dead, but I wasn’t ready to do that.

  I was ready to finish her myself but decided to save her instead. Command prerogative, you understand,” she said, and her voice became hard.

  “We were on the moon of a distal planet—seventh from the local star. It was an ice moon, so I drained Tove’s sheath until she froze nearly solid and carried her out.

  That arrested the shadow cells long enough. The medical engineers didn’t realize she was infected until we were on the liftpod to Orbital. That violated protocol. They wanted to jettison Tove.

  I made the engineers dig the shadow cells from her brain and promised to cave in their heads if they didn’t. Another violation.

  I was a Captain then, same as you. Tove was a Corporal.

  My decisions sent me to my first tribunal, but Tove lived. She’s been planet bound ever since. She is in engineering now on light maintenance. She fought well. What was the result? What difference was made?”

  “So what is your point? That soldiers get wounded?” Nina asked.

  “How many did you leave on the third arm?” Cordelia fired back.

  Icy water trickled down Nina’s spine. Her skin tingled. The energy inside her began to rise. The hair stood up on Cordelia’s neck. Other soldiers could smell the energy coming from Nina, and they shifted uneasily, some looking for the source. Tove moved around the kitchen to the stairs slowly, stalking. Nina wanted to lash out at Cordelia, to strike her. Cordelia made eye contact with Tove, who changed course and disappeared back into the crowd. Nina struggled to contain her rage.

  “Too many,” Nina said, her voice choking, jaw clenching.

  “Yes! But you survived. You lived by your defiance,” Cordelia was insistent then, like an excited professor, as if Nina were responding to some great lesson that Nina was about to comprehend.

  “A defiance much greater than mine,” Cordelia said. “But behind all this is the question why?

  Why did you want to save them at all? Why did I save Tove?

  Why should creatures supposedly born to die for a cause care about their sisters?

  Nowhere else in the galaxy are creatures born into a state of such cruelty. Why did we not evolve like most other sentient life we know?

  The answer is that we do not evolve. We are stuck.

  Do you think the monocells mourn death? No!

  Do you know why? Because when they die, they do so because they reach the natural limits of folding proteins.

  Their kind sings songs when they die. They are happy to pass their genes back into another generation.

  When we die it is because some ancient malevolent creature rips out our eyes, tears out our spines, cuts us to pieces and uses our limbs to kill our sisters!”

  Nina was not conscious of when Cordelia rose to her feet, but she was standing in the middle of the living room shouting, and everyone noticed. Conversation stopped. Nina could not move. She trembled. The soft chair seemed to hold her like stone.

  “Why, Nina! Why!” Cordelia screamed.

  It was not a question, but a lament, shrill and piteous. It was the lament that was beaten out of them soon after they left the birthing chambers.

  “If we are born only to die so that other species might live, why do we feel it?” Cordelia screamed again. “Why not make us machines like the things the Seed People sent to our home, Nina.

  They sent those things from a planet where they can breathe the air!

  And we … and we … have this ...”

  Cordelia held up her hand and let the energy sheath slowly light it. She began to bring it to her unshielded face, but her hand was stayed by another soldier who muttered something soft in her ear.

  Cordelia was gasping and unable to speak when several other soldiers surrounded her. Nina couldn’t hear what they were saying. One of them kissed Cordelia’s cheek, some placed their hands on her back, another roped an arm around her waist. Cordelia's feet barely touched the floor as they moved her towards the dark hallway opposite the kitchen.

  Tove appeared from the crowd and moved towards Nina with an expression of naked menace, but Nina was too numb to care. She saw the threat and could do nothing. Two other soldiers intercepted Tove, and someone whisper the word “later” in her ear. Tove also was hustled down the same dark hallway.

  Nina was conscious of a pair of robed legs in front of her. A grave face looked down, and the soldier extended her hand.

  “Come on up out of that chair. Please. Come have wine with me,” the new face said.

  The soldier was square. She was square and gray. She was very large. Her shoulders were extremely broad, and her large bust made her torso look like a block in the neatly-pleated, casual robe. Her skin was pale. It was not gray, not white, but somewhere in between. Her gray hair with streaks of black was pulled back severely into a short ponytail to reveal the face that gave Nina the impression of prevailing squareness. Her brow was tall and deeply lined and her large, round eyes were set in the broad span of her cheekbones. The slightly concave flesh of her cheeks pooled slig
htly against the line of her prominent jaw; the skin relaxed with age. She looked more than four hundred, and she was strong. Nina took her hand, and the arm did not yield a millimeter as Nina pulled herself up by it.

  The other soldiers, who were slowly beginning to circle, dispersed. When this woman turned with Nina to the wine, other soldiers spread from her path like a gentle wake. They cleared from the kitchen when the two entered. The old warrior turned her full attention to the wine board and selected a pitcher. She could have taken up the pitcher by wrapping her large hand around it, but instead used the handle and carefully poured two cups.

  “This is my favorite wine here tonight,” she said, with a smile that was not unfriendly, but something other than a smile. Her teeth were also square.

  “It is not anything like the nutritional wine we drink to survive, and only sometimes enjoy. In fact, there is little to no nutritional value in it at all. It is all pleasure.”

  The square woman brought her mouth to the cup and drank, never breaking eye contact. Nina did the same.

  “Do you know who I am?” the large soldier asked?

  “No Ma’am.”

  “Yet you use the address of respect.”

  Nina was growing tired of games. The corner of her right eye twitched, but something told her to be very careful.

  “This is courtesy.”

  “For your elders?”

  “For my elders.” Nina replied.

  “Of course,” the other said. The smile that was not a smile deepened. “I am General Zebrak Ghael.”

  The name sounded familiar.

  “You are an Orbital Commander of Heavy Infantry,” Nina recalled

  “I was, before becoming home bound,” Zebrak said, and took another sip. Nina said nothing.

  “And why are you home bound?” Nina asked. She looked Zebrak up and down, hunting for a sign of obvious injury.

  “Sustained injury is not the only reason a soldier might become bound. Sometimes given injury lands one here.

  I have not left Homesphere in a standard century. It was either this or face execution,” Zebrak said.

  She read the surprise on Nina’s face through the great effort Nina took to hide it.

  “Are you so surprised they would execute a soldier?” Zebrak asked. “You are unaware this is done. I see.

  But you know they were ready to execute a hundred-thousand of us on the Third Arm under sentence of strategic curiosity.

  You escaped that sentence. Your only crime was being a useful tool to discover what the Silicoids are up to.”

  Nina flushed at the characterization of the events, but she had to agree.

  “So are you the one who brought me to this gathering?”

  “Yes.”

  “So Cordelia was the wrong person to ask.” Nina said, with rising heat in her voice. “I’ll ask you instead. What do you want from me? What do all of you expect?”

  The large one placed a big hand on Nina’s shoulder. There was no smile.

  “When you leave this cavern and enter the main transit system, you will be arrested to face a tribunal.

  I brought you here to delay that. Olthan’s cadre has no reach here, but your trial is inevitable.

  I brought you here to show this small group of your fellow soldiers that we can stand against certain things that are wrong. And if justice is not had through your trial, this group will seek it.”

  “You are talking about rebellion. This is not possible. Advocates can’t rebel against their existence.”

  “These are all very different things. We are made of the same stuff as the species we serve. Our existence runs counter to the genetic expression itself.

  We are told that we are the highest expression of a specific intention. We believe that this is false.

  Our current existence is forced on us, and we can change it. You provided the prime example that it is possible.”

  “No. I am not what you think—whatever it is. I serve life. I am still an Advocate Warrior. I am not your rallying cry to end Advocate service to sentient life.”

  “We all serve life. May that never change.

  What your sisters want is the same opportunity as any sentient species.

  Choice is our true birthright, not blind service. We have secured that right for others. Now it is our turn.

  Whatever you choose is up to you.

  Nina, you have already started the process. You are the one who refused.”

  Nina looked down into her cup at the foreign wine from a planet she knew nothing about. That world gave her the eyes to see the cup, and the wine, and the tongue with which to taste it. Nina wondered what gave her the thoughts that came to her on the Third Arm. The thoughts would not leave her alone.

  Chapter 11: Earth, Arizona, The Conscript

  Donna was hard to miss. Her bulk was abundantly evident beneath the baggy t-shirt and loose athletic shorts. Rachel and Penny observed her through the glass wall as she worked with her client. Donna held out padded gloves for him to punch, then crouch and punch again. She had him pivot on his heel, and crouch, then punch in different combinations—right-left, left-left, right-right. The man’s red face dripped sweat. The flesh under his baggy shirt swayed and jiggled. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up between punches and expectant glances at Donna. She urged him on as his motions became less coordinated. She dropped the pads, and they walked a brisk pace around the outside of the entire gym. Donna’s face was animated as they walked along.

  Donna’s client focused on her with serious eyes that turned to a look of determination as they ended several laps. Donna took him through a series of squats and jumps. When he tired of that, she patted him on the back approvingly. She said something that made his face beam with something much more than sweat. She gave him some instructions and shook her finger—some warning that made him laugh. His ample belly heaved. She touched his shoulder firmly and smiled, gave him a little shove. They clearly saw his lips mouth the words "yes ‘ma’am." The man wiped off his face and turned back to a free weight area where he joined another group of men and women doing a circuit of kettle bell lifts. They adjusted their circle to accept him.

  Carmen left the reception desk and walked across the gym to intercept Donna. The two exchanged words. Carmen’s face was serious. Donna’s face was neutral. She looked through the windows into the cafe area and made eye contact with Rachel. The two gave no acknowledgment of one another but seemed to communicate somehow. Carmen nodded her head and Donna continued towards the office.

  “She won’t see us?” Penny asked.

  “Well, she’s obviously busy. She knows we are here. That’s important.”

  Carmen turned on her heel and marched through the gym towards the glass wall. Her face was a portrait of determination.

  “Uh oh…” Penny said.

  Carmen walked behind the bar and dismissed the bartender. She leaned across the bar and looked around to make sure she wasn’t noticed by other customers. She fixed Rachel with a hard stare.

  “I know who and what you are,” Carmen hissed. “And I know who Donna is. She is mine. She belongs here, with her clients, with this place, in this town with the people who love her.

  She is no longer a part of whatever it is you do. You need to leave. Kindly finish your drinks and leave us alone.”

  Carmen turned her back on them and made busy wiping down the counter with great purpose. Rachel looked at her watch, then pulled out the secure cell again. She left the bar and moved to an unoccupied corner by the front windows. Penny sat at the bar wondering what to do next. Chase answered on the ninth ring.

  “Yes,” he said. His voice was toneless. Something was wrong.

  “She’s here. Saw her. No positive contact.”

  “We have an incident here. Did you see anything on the road?”

  “No. Should I have?”

  “Yes. We have exposure.”

  “Great. We have exposure here too. How bad is yours?”
/>   “Bad. Don’t turn on the news…”

  “Got it. I’ll check in again after we meet.”

  “Right. Make it soon.”

  There was a click on the line. The call ended.

  Rachel stared through the window at the main drag of Williams and thought for a moment. There was no reason to believe Donna was completely exposed. She might have told Carmen some cover story without full disclosure. It was obvious that the two were romantic partners. That was a smaller issue, but still posed the problem of exposure. Donna had broken her agreement. She was supposed to notify the Unit of any such involvement. Rachel’s relationship with Lev was the issue that almost broke the Program before it started sixty years prior. She wondered how she could keep this from upper Unit leadership, or whether she should even try. Once this reached the international level where the program did its planning, the game would be much different. It was only fortunate for Rachel that leadership was still almost completely dependent on the work of her Unit and others like it. That situation would invert after disclosure. There was little to be done. Rachel marched back over to the bar and retrieved Penny.

  “Carmen. I apologize for bothering you, but this is crucial. We will be back when the gym closes. It is very important that Dona be here. We need to talk at least,” Rachel said to Carmen’s back. Carmen made rough work out of cleaning a blender. She did not reply. Rachel turned on her heel with Penny following.

  “Gym closes at nine. We’ll come back then. Looks like we’ll be here for the night,” Rachel said, and led them to the motel next door, where they were lucky to find a room.

  Neither of them packed an overnight bag, so they walked down the strip to a convenience store and bought toiletries. On the way back, they found a small discount store packed with items ranging from toys to housewares to garden supplies. They both selected fresh underwear. Rachel bought a set of cheap pajamas, and Penny picked up a cotton undershirt and a pair of souvenir ‘route 66’ shorts that looked comfortable to sleep in.

  “I hope this doesn’t turn into any more of an adventure,” Rachel fretted as they walked along the main drag again.

  Passing cowboys scanned them appraisingly, and Penny met their ogling with ambiguous expressions. Penny was surprised to find one or two of them reasonably attractive. She logged the town on a mental list of places to explore when she could.