Terminal Event

by Robert Vaughan

  Some of the reviewers faulted the drama for that, but most reviewers lauded them.

  This drama gives viewers a look into the future civilization which will definitely be reborn on this planet. It is good that we are able to see this new world as proud parents, looking in, observing but not participating. To connect that brave new world to the one that is so soon to disappear, would have taken away from the magic of the story.

  Kudos to Lieb Axyl who wrote the story, to the actors and actresses who breathed life into it, and to The Stellar Production Company for giving our dying civilization a glimpse into our future, and a brief, and much needed lift from the depression that so affects us all.

  25

  Outside Biskandal, in a swampy area that Zorlok was certain would be a very fertile ground for the hosting, reproducing, and eventual reemergence of sentient life, Zorlok and Vilna made their own private pilgrimage. Zorlok not only had samples of his and Vilna’s biological tissue, he also had a vial of Tuke’s hereditary material.

  “Zorlok, you said that everything will get very hot from the radiant heat of the Plym Stellar-body debris,” Vilna said. “Won’t that destroy the genetic material we are leaving?”

  “No. Although the temperature will get twice as hot as that required to boil water, which is much too high for any higher life to survive, the genetic building blocks we are leaving behind can survive temperatures more than three times the temperature of boiling water.”

  “That’s good to know,” Vilna said.

  “Let’s go home,” Zorlok suggested.

  Home was now the apartment that Zorlok and Vilna shared, having made the commitment to each other.

  They did a signal intercept of one of the self-driven service-transporters, then spoke the address into the onboard data analyzer.

  “Zorlok, have you given any thought as to when we are going to take the self-termination capsules?” Vilna asked as the transporter hurried them through the city. The transporters, which once required credit connections to pay for the ride, were now free, as was nearly everything else.

  “Why do you ask? Are you that anxious to take them?” Zorlok asked.

  “Not particularly. But I also don’t want to bake like a roast in an oven.”

  “No, that doesn’t sound like a very good way to go out for me, either. But don’t forget, we are going to the Food and Mood for a last night party, remember? We can’t take them before then.”

  “But we will pay attention so that we don’t stay too long and get caught up in it, won’t we? I don’t mind dying so much, at least not now anyway, since I know there will be something left of us. Well, something of us at some time in the future, anyway. But I don’t like pain.”

  Zorlok put his arm around Vilna’s shoulders and pulled her to him.

  “I promise you, we will not have to stick around for the pain.”

  “Once we ingest the capsules, how long will it take?”

  “It takes very little time at all,” Zorlok said.

  “What will it be like? After we take the capsules, I mean. Will they make us nauseous or dizzy or anything?”

  “No, nothing like that. In fact, quite the opposite. There will be a feeling of euphoria and contentment, then a very comfortable drowsiness, and then it will all be over. The world may be ablaze, but we will never know it.”

  “You have reached your destination,” a data generated voice said as the service transporter came to a stop in front of their apartment. When Zorlok opened the door, Tuke ran happily up to the front door of the apartment building, then waited patiently for Zorlok and Vilna to join him.

  Three days later Zorlok was in his office monitoring via the data processor, the progress of the environmental enrichment program. He did a print out of the information.

  Distributed biologics of sentient beings by continent

  Laurentia ....... 450,000,000

  Gondwanaland ……. 382,000,000

  Baltica . ....... 175,000,000

  All Islands ....... 28,000,000

  Total .......... 860,000,000

  The totals were still one hundred forty million short of one billion, the number the data processor programs indicated would be the optimum for best effect.

  Part of the problem was coming from religious resistance groups. One very conservative congregation had proscribed participation by its members:

  “Sentient beings were put on this planet by the Omniscient One, we did not spring from the water and mud. Planting biological material, like planting seeds, will not grow a new crop of sentients.”

  Most of the religious figures, however, not only accepted the environmental enrichment program, they were ardent supporters of it. Then Theist Wolco gave another address, this time on the subject of environmental enrichment.

  Virtually everyone listened to his words and took them to heart.

  “It is true, that Omo put all sentient beings on this planet, as well as any other planets that may be inhabited in the universe. And it is because of that very thing that we, His children, are obligated to do all we can to preserve His creation.

  “While we cannot stop what is going to happen to us, we can use our Omo-given intellect to preserve for some future posterity, evidence of his creation.

  “If we saw a child in a burning house, it would be against the precepts of Omo for us not to take that child from the house and save its life.

  “Is what we are doing now, any different? Think not of this as planting seed in a field, think rather of this as pulling our children from a burning house, so that they may live.

  “I urge all who are faithful followers of the Omniscient One, the Director of the Universe, to do all that you can do to preserve His work on this planet. Visit your nearest biologic collection station, and leave a part of yourself there.

  “With prayerful observance of this holy work, I bid Omo’s blessing on all.”

  Theist Wolco’s address had an amazing and immediate effect. Almost half of the religious leaders who were originally protesting the program, became advocates of it, and within another two weeks, the minimum number of one billion had been reached. And to make things even better, the number was rising so quickly that there was a possibility that they might pass two billion.

  It wasn’t just sentient genetic material that was being sowed around the world. Animal biologics were also being planted, everything from family pets to livestock, to wild animals.

  The countdown to what was being called TE Day continued, the end now being but 119 days away. Each of those days seemed precious – and all too short.

  “I have something to tell you,” Vilna said as she and Zorlok lay in bed one night.

  “That you are proud of me for coming up with this idea?” Zorlok asked. “Because I’m proud of myself. This may not work, Vilna, but all observed data says that it will work if we have enough genetic material introduced into the environment. And I’m happy to say that we have more than enough.”

  “Yes, I am proud of you, but that isn’t what I have to tell you.”

  “Ah, I know what it is. You want to tell me that you love me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do love you. But that isn’t what I have to tell you, either.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Vilna sighed, then reached over and squeezed Zorlok’s hand.

  “Oh, Zorlok, what are we going to do?”

  “What do you mean, what are we going to do?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  26

  “I have always dreamed of having a child,” Vilna said. “Now I am going to have one, except that I can’t. It will all be over before I can even deliver.” She sighed. “I suppose, in a way, it is a blessing. How awful it would be to bring a child into the world, only to have the world end.”

  “I’m sorry,” Zorlok said. “We should have been more careful.”

  Vilna smiled. “No, don’t be sorry.” She put her hand on her stomach. “This is what happens when two people love one another. I’m g
lad. At least, we will have that much in our lives that is somewhat normal. I’ll carry the child for a while, then, sometime before the end, I’ll abort.”

  Zorlok embraced her.

  “Yes,” he said.

  It was three days later that Zorlok got the idea. He was at the science center with Mitron and some of the others. The real purpose for being there was to monitor progress of the genetic enrichment program, now tending to be that of animal biologics, since most sentient being enrichment had already taken place.

  “Too bad we can’t just put ourselves in hibernation,” Mitron said. “If we could go deep enough, say, under the ice down at the South Pole, we could survive the initial impact, then wait until, once again, the planet becomes habitable.”

  “Yes,” Zorlok said. “Like a hibernating animal, only we would have to hibernate, not just for a winter, but for a million years or more. But even if – ” He paused and an expression of enlightenment lit his face. “Yes! Yes, we could do it!”

  “Oh, come now, Professor Cyr,” one of the others said. “What do you mean, we could do it? There is no known way we could put a living sentient into such an extended hibernation, and we don’t have enough time left to develop such a process.”

  “Embryos,” Zorlok said. “We could put embryos into hibernation and if they are kept frozen, they would be viable for an infinite amount of time. As long as one billion years.”

  “But if they are embryos, how would they emerge?” another asked, beginning to display some interest. “They certainly can’t bring themselves out of this hibernation.”

  “They would have to be found, of course.”

  “Found by who?”

  “Wait a minute,” Mitron said. “I see what Zorlok is saying. If our environmental enrichment program is successful, they would be found by our descendants.”

  “That’s all well and good, Professor,” Adaka allowed. “But even if environmental enrichment succeeds, the new sentient beings will have to start all over again. That means they will have to go through the same stages of evolutionary development that we did, perhaps as much as a million years or more before becoming a technological society. If the embryos we leave are discovered before the civilization even recognizes what they are, it will all come to naught.”

  “If we bury them deep enough at the South Pole, they will not be found until civilization is technologically advanced enough to not only find them, but recognize what they are, and also to be able to bring them to term,” Mitron said.

  “How many embryos do you think we should attempt to preserve?” Adaka asked. “One? One hundred?”

  “Six,” Zorlok replied. “One male and one female each from Amalon, from Korsra, and from Kambye.”

  “What sort of environment would we need to create for this?” one of the others asked.

  “We’ll use a fast freeze process that will allow the embryo to undergo an instantaneous solidification without the damaging formation of ice crystals. Then we can store them in a tank of liquid nitrogen, and bury it deep under the ice at the South Pole. But, it’s the storage tank that concerns me. We have no idea how long they will be there, what is to keep the tank from disintegrating?”

  “Gold,” Mitron suggested. “Gold does not disintegrate.”

  “Can we afford gold?” Adaka asked.

  Zorlok answered with a question of his own: “So, of what value is gold now?”

  Adaka laughed as well. “Yes, you’re right. Even the most miserly would have no need for gold now.”

  “Suppose we are able to do this?” another asked. “What is the purpose?”

  “What do you mean, what is the purpose?” Zorlok replied.

  “I mean, if our environmental enrichment program is successful and once again sentient beings emerge, there would be no need for the embryos. And if there is no repopulation we would have six embryos residing in a golden canister for all eternity. So why should we even attempt this?”

  “To send a message,” Mitron said. “If there is a rebirth, and if a civilization with an advanced technology is able to locate, and birth the embryos, they will have to realize that they came from a much earlier civilization.”

  “Yes, that is true, isn’t it?” one of the others asked. “I think we should proceed to the next step. Let us gather the six embryos as Professor Cyr said, and see what we can do about projecting them into the future.”

  Zorlok, who had not shared his idea with Vilna, brought it up at the evening meal.

  “Vilna, suppose I told you that there was a way for our child to survive, would you be interested?”

  “You mean survive the terminal event?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why would I want to leave a baby to face such a thing? No, I think it would be best to abort the pregnancy.”

  “Wait before you decide,” Zorlok said. “I think I haven’t made myself clear. When I say survive, I mean survive until the world is repopulated.” Zorlok explained what he and the others had discussed at the meeting, earlier.

  “Yes!” Vilna said, now enthused by the concept. “Oh, Zorlok, to think that our child could live on, after this, and not only live on but live in a new world millions of years from now! Why, it would be almost as if we are surviving.”

  “So you are willing to do this?”

  “I’m more than willing. I am eager to do it. Where do we start?”

  “We will need six embryos, and I want to take all of them at the eighth week. Of course we don’t have to take them all at once.”

  “I don’t know what week I’m in, right now,” Vilna said.

  “It will be easy enough to find out,” Zorlok said. “I have a test kit with me. I can draw out some amniotic fluid and it will tell me.”

  Half an hour later, Zorlok looked at the results, then smiled at Vilna. “The test shows that the embryo is a male, at seven weeks,” he said. “That’s perfect, that’ll give us time to remove the embryo and get it stabilized.”

  “It isn’t just an embryo,” Vilna said. “It is our baby, yours and mine. We already know that it is a boy, and we already know its name. His name is Zorlok.”

  Zorlok leaned over to kiss Vilna on her forehead. “I’m pleased that you would name our baby after me, even if you and I are the only ones who will ever know his name.”

  Two days later Zorlok accompanied Vilna to the hospital where the embryo, no more than half an inch long, was put into an ampule, then immersed in liquid nitrogen in a vacuum lined tank.

  “Have a nice rest, Zorlok,” Vilna said.

  “Zorlok?” the physician asked, looking at Cyr.”

  “He is also Zorlok,” Vilna said, pointing to the embryo.

  “Too bad we have no way of letting some future civilization know his name,” the physician said.

  “We could write it on the golden canister,” Vilna suggested.

  “How would they know how to read it?” Zorlok asked.

  “It’s a shame. My baby has such a beautiful name, but he will never know it,” Vilna said wistfully.

  27

  When Zorlok arrived at the Science Center he was shown directly into Mitron’s office.

  “You wanted to see me, Atar?”

  “Yes,” Mitron said. “Zorlok, how would you like your child to know his name when he is born, millions of years from now?”

  “Well, yes, that would be fine, but even if you engrave the name on the golden canister, there is no guarantee that whoever finds the canister, assuming it is found, will be able to read it.”

  “I’m not talking about engraving the name on the canister. I’m talking about having the embryos themselves telling their rescuers, not only what their names are, but also being able to carry the story of our civilization to the civilization of the future.”

  Mitron smiled. “You would agree, wouldn’t you, that the only thing better than making certain that our species will rise again would be if there was some way we could let those future sentients know w
ho we are, and that they owe their very existence to us.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “With micro-data processors,” Mitron replied. “But I’m going to have to integrate them with the biology of the embryos themselves, and for that I’ll need your help. Do you think you could do that?”

  “I don’t know. There have been biological implants of data processors to restore thought function to those who have suffered severe brain trauma. But, that is only in someone who is a fully developed person. And even though the brain has been severely damaged, the brain is still there.

  “In the case of the embryos, I will have only the neural plate to work with. And of course, the processor itself will have to be very small, I mean the embryos themselves are no bigger than a thumbnail.”

  “You let me worry about the size of the processor,” Mitron said. “You find some way to make the neural connections.”

  Zorlok smiled. “Let’s do it,” he said, enthusiastically.

  With a definite goal, Zorlok and Mitron began working fourteen hours per day. When the others of the scientific committee learned what Zorlok and Mitron were trying to do, they offered their help in any way they could.

  “Too many of us working would get in each other’s way,” Mitron said. “But you can help by making certain that our quest isn’t hampered by lack of material or equipment.”

  The project scientists reacted quickly, and no raw material anywhere in the world was beyond access. Pure gold was drawn into wires less than one-fiftieth the diameter of a strand of sentient hair. Electronic microscopes were brought into play as the tiny data processors began to take shape.

  With Mitron and Zorlok heading up the team, there was a perfect division of labor between them. Mitron handled the electro mechanics, building a data processor which despite its tiny size rivaled the Advanced Calculating System in computing power.