There was no one in the ‘rec room’ except the bar keeper and ourselves, so Chrissy gave the command, “Computer, three to transfer to coordinates - ZPY 741206.”
Chapter 6. Genesis: The Origins of a New Beginning
I felt that crawling ant sensation again and the room in front of me dimmed. My new view was much brighter and made me wish I’d brought my sunshades. I was in the open air and it was already quite hot and dry. Although there was a refreshing breeze blowing from my left I was glad I was wearing my sunhat and a grey issue jumpsuit. They had been designed to keep the heat out and let the breeze in whilst protecting the wearer from sunburn and heat stroke. Apparently the Aapa’s scales made them ideally suited to this environment, while humans found it nearly impossible to adjust.
No one had seen an Aapa since we arrived, and there was a rumour going around that they had become extinct. Maybe we would soon learn the truth, or if Howard was anything to do with it we would find out a part truth, and get drip-fed further facts as, or if, he considered it necessary.
The early morning sun had just come up, so it was much cooler than by the hatchery caves. However, in a few hours the heat here would become unbearable too.
As my eyes adjusted to this new intensity I realised I was standing in an ancient amphitheatre—and it was huge. At the front were a dozen stone seats, each carved from solid rock. Set in an arc shape, and facing those front seats, were eighty or more rows of seats also carved from rock. Each row was set slightly higher than the one in front, gradually building up to a crescendo of massive, circular stone pillars arising at the back of the amphitheatre. These forty or more pillars had to be at least thirty metres tall. Several of them had toppled over and broken many years previously, most of these swallowed up in hardy, creeping ivy.
Due to the combination of intense heat and precipitation the whole amphitheatre was showing signs of advanced erosion. Still totally in awe of this sight, I became aware of the sound of waves breaking on the shore a few hundred metres away. I turned and looked out over the precipice in front of the amphitheatre where a hazy mist still danced over the deep, blue sea. In this area torrential downpours were commonplace. Unlike the hatchery cave area, the land here was covered in ridiculously huge trees, each over a hundred and fifty metres tall, and sturdy cactus plants covered with beautiful, vibrant flowers of every imaginable colour.
Chrissy explained, “Each day the intense heat evaporates several megalitres of seawater. This develops into heavy storm clouds that grow and thicken and darken until they can no longer hold the moisture. It all comes crashing down in the early evening. It’s the same every day; you could set your watch by it. We’ll have to be gone by then. No human could survive the intensity of the downpour. Obviously all vegetation has to be sturdy and very strongly rooted into the bedrock so the heavy rain and resulting runoff doesn’t wash it away.”
“Should have brought my brolly,” I joked.
Above my head a couple of birds very similar in appearance to Incar birds hovered in the cloudless sky. So they have these too I thought, smiling. That’ll keep the rat population in check. (I still hadn’t seen a rat since arriving.)
The crew of the Omicron Flyer, in all about eight hundred people, were making their way to their seats, so Chrissy and I did the same. We chose the third row from the front so we would have a clear view of the afternoon’s activities. Like all the others, my seat was rather large and once I sat on it my feet dangled above the ground unable to touch the floor. It reminded of the times when, as a small child, I’d sat on my grandfather’s huge chair. No one was ever allowed to sit in that chair, except for me on the odd occasion when grandfather was in a good mood and I had been very good. He would lift me onto it and tell me I was a good girl and he knew it was Howard who kept getting me into trouble with Mum and Dad.
“One day they’ll be as wise as me and will know the truth,” he’d say with a grin.
Obviously, the stone seats in the amphitheatre were made for people much taller than me. I remembered the Jasperetta hologram. She was well over seven feet tall. Maybe all original Aapa’s were larger and taller than their human counterparts.
Keni, David Holmes, and several other people I recognised from the Omicron Flyer were sitting nearby. I decided I would like to get to know David better, if I had the chance.
Mr. Smiley and his miserable work colleague were sitting just in front of me. I still didn’t know his real name, and wondered if I’d guessed it right.
An air of excitement and anticipation hung over amphitheatre. As I was wondering how long we would all have to wait, Dr. Dantzig, Howard, and a senior female crewmember walked across from the left side of the amphitheatre and sat down on the seats at the front facing the rest of us. Two men in high-ranking uniforms and a mysterious, tall, lean individual joined them. He, or maybe she, wore a long, grey, hooded garment reaching down to the floor, its long, wide sleeves covering their hands and the hood shielding their face. Enthusiastic chatter moved around the expectant crowd as each person wondered if the figure was an Aapa. However, the amphitheatre fell silent as Howard stood up and addressed them all.
“It is fitting that we meet here today where many thousands of years ago the Ad-Astra-Per-Aspera first set foot on this planet. They had journeyed many light years from a far away solar system to start a new civilisation.
“Today we stand on that same ground on the verge of another exciting new era.” He looked across to one of the senior officers and sat down. The officer acknowledged Howard with a nod of his head then stood up and introduced himself as Admiral Horatio Wineburger. Amazingly everyone could hear every word that was being spoken, even though there was no amplification system. The amphitheatre clearly had perfect acoustics.
The Admiral started by saying, “Many of you know who I am.” He was being modest, of course; every first grade student knew who Horatio Wineburger was. “And most of you know that we are here to aid a peace-loving people who have asked for our help … but only senior crew members have been privy to the whole truth.
“Five years ago, when I last visited Theta Dayton Four, many thousands of Aapa still lived on this planet. Tragically, due to genetic degeneration, they had been aging and dying at younger and still younger ages. This is why the Omicron Flyer travelled back here earlier this year and took two hundred Aapa eggs back to earth.”
Horatio was a positive, upbeat man; highly intelligent and respected by all his peers, but now he paused, suddenly becoming very serious.
“Recently, an illegal pressure group, made up mostly of Drifters, discovered our scheme and infiltrated our ranks. These people made it known to us that they would destroy any egg or hatched being of mixed species. You’ll be pleased to hear that this threat has now been eradicated.” Several people started clapping. This caught on and soon people were clapping all over the huge stadium.
Horatio waited until it was quiet, before continuing. “The eggs were taken to a UCP Research Centre where the embryos were bonded with human DNA. The greatest proportion of the hybrid eggs were hatched and reared on site, while others were placed in homes.” Horatio paused, a mischievous glint reaching his eyes as he looked around the amphitheatre. “We didn’t want to place all our eggs in one basket, so to speak.”
A groan went through the audience as they reacted to such a terrible pun.
Horatio continued, “It was hoped that the genetic engineering that had gone into producing the hybrid offspring would have been enough to counteract the genetic degeneration … Alas this wasn’t so. None of the hybrids lived more than seven days. During this time, however, we discovered they all had an incredible intellect, and they proved invaluable in furthering the genetic research programmes.
“One of the hybrids, known as Olan, made the breakthrough that will enable all the remaining un-hatched hybrids to live for around ten years. The treatment need only be applied to this first generation. It will change them genetically at the sub atomic level, and they will be able
to go on to produce young of their own.”
The crowd stood and clapped and a few people let out wolf whistles. Horatio turned and signalled to the hooded figure with a wide sweep of his hand saying, “I now hand you over to our honoured guest.” The Admiral sat down whilst the mysterious individual stood up.
There was an audible gasp from the crowd as he lowered the hood to show an olive green, scaled face.
“I am Ezhno and I am the last of my kind,” he said. “My people came here many millennia ago, full of hope and eager to start their new lives. Over time they established an advanced civilisation based on peace and trust, and the belief that all men and women were equal. At this time the natural lifespan of an Aapa averaged one hundred and twenty years. Tragically, during the last few hundred years this was drastically reduced.
“After exhausting all possibilities of finding an answer to the degeneration on this planet, my people started looking to the stars for help. We were desperate; we were running out of time. Our species and our whole way of life was doomed to extinction, so we contacted the United Coalition of Planets and asked for their help. They compassionately agreed, sending the Omicron Flyer and their highest qualified people in the genetic sciences with the assignment of trying to resolve our crisis.”
Almost overcome with grief, Ezhno paused for a moment as if to regain his composure, then continued, “The only way of preserving our people, and our rich culture, was to blend Aapa and human DNA to form a new species.
“With the agreement of the representatives of both parent species, this went ahead, using the Earth DNA database as a starting point. All nations and peoples were represented although only the DNA from the healthiest, strongest and most intelligent humans was used.
“The hybrid Aapas will have much to learn, but they will have the data library containing the records of our culture, our art, our accomplishments, and our entire way of life for reference.
“These New-Race Aapa’s will inherit the whole civilisation and technology of the originals and stay on this, the fourth planet … their homeworld. We have always been a most peaceful people—although don’t be fooled; we will defend our own—and I trust this will always remain so.
“I wish to thank you all for coming to Theta Dayton Four, and for all your help, now and in the months to come. My days will soon be over and that will be the end of the original Aapa, but it is not the end of life. It is the beginning of hope.”
Ezhno looked across to his left and motioned to a female officer who had just transferred to the amphitheatre. She brought a small basket to him. He bent forward towards it and took out the contents. The silence of the crowd was so intense that it was almost audible. Every eye was transfixed on him as he lifted and held up a newly hatched hybrid Aapa
“This is Nor-man’di, my leader’s grandchild and rightful heir.” Ezhno lowered his arms, shielding the baby’s eyes from the bright sun. “She is our new leader and my hope for the future. She has already received the treatment … and it has worked. Here is renewed hope … a new beginning … and a new species.”
A few of the crew stood up, and soon we were all on our feet again applauding. We were witnessing the birth of a species, of a nation, and a whole new planetary system.
Part One Epilogue:
I was instrumental in bringing up Nor-man’di. I missed my art exhibition, but to be honest I hadn’t given it a second thought since I first held the little hatchling. In time there would be art exhibitions on Theta Dayton Four, and, besides, there was plenty here to capture my imagination and artistic expression.
That night, long ago, I took Nor-man’di in my arms knowing I had found my life’s purpose. I was going to stay here and help in any way I could.
Part Two
Chapter 7. Learning to Fly
Slowly, I walked down the main street in the blistering mid-day heat. The walkway bustled with New Race Aapa: women, (most pushing prams), men dressed in smart suits on their way to meetings, and children darting in and out of the crowds.
Except for what I referred to as leopard spots on their chest, back and the outside of their legs, and, of course, that male Aapas had internal male genitalia, externally, humans and adult Appas looked very alike, although physiologically there were many differences. For instance, New Race Aapas had three hearts and one super kidney. However, one could easily spot the humans as New Race Aapas were much taller. (Most off-worlders dropped the New Race label when mentioning them, simply referring to them as Aapas. It seemed an unnecessary addition now the original Aapas were extinct.) The Aapa women were very slender too, and the men quite muscular. I had never seen an overweight Aapa, which I didn’t think was very fair; I always had to watch my weight. The tallest human here—an Earth woman called Anna who was six feet five inches—was still six inches shorter that the average Aapa. Howard said Olan only grew to six feet two during his seven days on earth, as he didn’t have time to grow any taller. I didn’t know if my brother was being serious or teasing me again.
I was meeting Howard at the Shuttle Test Centre. In the nine years that I had lived on Theta Dayton Four I had never fully acclimatised to the heat, although I had gotten used to feeling the hot air in my lungs. Like all humans on this planet I wore protective clothing and headgear to protect me from the heat when walking out in the daytime heat. Thankfully a cooling system was built into the fabric of the said garments and they looked no different from normal, indoor clothing.
In addition to the many cities built by the original Aapa’s, and which New Race Aapa’s now populated, there were many new cities and towns scattered over the whole planet.
One of the largest on this continent, Omicron City, boasted many town houses, high-rise apartments, factories, shopping areas, sports centres, parklands, and multi-level highways.
This new civilisation had been built on the back of the original Aapa accomplishments, but with their increased intelligence, the New Hybrid’s had made incredible advancements.
The hovercar had given way to more technically advanced flying shuttles. Once programmed, these virtually flew themselves. Multi-level highways were actually flight paths designated to given altitudes. Although invisible to the naked eye, they could easily be seen through the shuttle windscreens. This is how pilots kept their shuttles on designated courses. Buffer zones around the vehicles ensured there were never any shuttle accidents. At any time one could look up and see hundreds of shuttles flying at various altitudes all over the city, but the air remained pollutant free as the shuttles gave off no emissions. Instead they recycled the waste gasses into more fuel. The hum of so many engines was only just audible from the ground so noise pollution was no problem either. Howard had insisted that I got my own shuttle and learned to drive.
“But I can transfer anywhere I want to go,” I had objected.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he had countered. “And what if the transfer technology goes off line, as it often needs to when it updates. You’ll thank me one day.”
I looked at him sideways. “You always say that, and I haven’t yet.”
I finally conceded and took flying lessons.
Today was my pilot’s test, which was why I was walking out in the heat of the day.
When I arrived at the test centre Howard was nowhere to be seen, so I waited by myself in a small room for the assessor to come out. Eventually he did.
“Belinda Cagney?” the tall, New-Race assessor asked.
I nodded, suddenly nervous and remembering a similar time on Earth when I took my hovercar driving test.
The assessor continued, “Are you all right? I notice it says here that you’re human. It must be quite hot for you today.”
“Yes. I’ve never really got used to the heat.”
“You won’t, but at least the test shuttle is air conditioned. I’ll set it at a temperature you’re comfortable with.”
I thanked the assessor who introduced himself as Ahanu.
We sat in the shuttle and I looked at the f
amiliar controls. There weren’t many—as I mentioned, once programmed these shuttle almost flew themselves. However, for the test I had to prove I could fly manually. I’d always found vertical takeoff the hardest part as one had to balance the throttle with the clutch so the shuttle didn’t lurch forward, and at the same time open the anterior thrusters.
Having successfully done this, the rest of my test went smoothly. I landed back at the test centre a half hour later, turned the engine off, and waited for the assessor’s verdict while he entered the information on his computerised note pad. My stomach was in knots.
“Miss Cagney, I’m very pleased to tell you, you’ve passed your pilot’s test.” I nearly threw my arms around him, but managed to control myself.
Howard was waiting for me outside in the shade of a huge tree. He looked quite sad, as he always did when he thought no one was looking. This’ll stop him nagging me about my licence I thought as I looked at my pass certificate.
“Congrats,” he said, when I showed it to him. He rummaged in his trouser pocket and brought out a key. “Here. You’ll need this. Your new shuttle’s parked ’round the corner.”
“You bought me a shuttle?”
“Yea. I get paid very well and have to spend my credits on something.”
Howard could be really sweet sometimes, but I didn’t want him to know he was right about me getting my license, so I tried to hold in my excitement and not smile as we walked.
We stopped next to the brand new, metallic gold shuttle, Howard waiting expectantly for me to say something.
Unable to hold in the excitement any longer, I exclaimed, “It’s beautiful! Is it really for me?”
Howard nodded.
About the size of the traditional family car of yesteryear, shuttles were designed to be thicker at the back where the passengers sat and were tapered towards the front, a bit like a wedge (or a chuck of cheese as I’d nicknamed them.)
New World Rising: A story of hope born out of tragedy Page 7
