Solomon's Arrow

by J. Dalton Jennings

  “I’ll be damned!” Lt. Norwood swiveled around in her seat and shook her head. “I’ve just received a communication from Nepal, sir. They’re using an enhanced, old-style ham radio to transmit their message.”

  The admiral perked up. “Let’s hear it.”

  The message came through loud and clear, albeit with some static in the background. “Come in, Arrow,” a male voice said. “Do you copy? Please respond.” There was a two-second delay, and then the message repeated.

  “Is the message recorded?” the admiral asked.

  Lt. Norwood listened for nearly twenty seconds before responding. “I detect subtle variations in the man’s speech pattern that suggests it’s being transmitted live, sir. I’m surprised they’re still using a variant of English we can understand. After seven thousand years, you’d think we’d be hearing more linguistic drift.”

  “Hmm … that is rather odd but also fortuitous. Open a channel and let’s establish contact.”

  The admiral received an excited response to her hail and carried on a brief exchange with the radio operator, most of which consisted of arranging a time and place for the representatives to meet. Being late in the afternoon, Nepali time, the two decided that it would be in everyone’s interest to meet the following morning.

  Later that evening, Richard was in the officer’s lounge compiling a list of people he wanted for the landing party when Lt. Muldoon tracked him down and insisted on being included. With many of his most reliable security officers either still in cryo-sleep or dead, he needed someone to look after the ship. When he told her so, she became adamant, telling him she needed to be on the list. After asking for a reason, she told him it was personal. If it hadn’t been for Lt. Sullivant overhearing their conversation and insisting she take his place, Richard would’ve refused. As it was, she was good at her job, and her uncharacteristic show of emotional vulnerability made him curious, so he relented.

  The next morning, he, along with the admiral, Lt. Muldoon, Dr. Singh, Dr. Levin, and two security officers, climbed aboard one of the shuttles and, with him piloting, left for Nepal. As the shuttle descended through the atmosphere, Richard studied his station’s HV monitor and saw that nearly twenty-five percent of the Indian subcontinent was underwater.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” he told the admiral, who was his copilot, “if the reason they located their government in Nepal was to avoid the rising oceans. I read last night that the country has fertile soil and is isolated from attack. It’s like they decided to take the high ground, literally, after the world fell apart.”

  The admiral grunted her assent, looking drawn, washed out. She should’ve stayed onboard the Arrow, he knew, but it was important that she be the one to make first contact. The people on Earth still possessed rudimentary technology, which meant they weren’t barbarians. More importantly, they knew the name of the ship, which pointed to the supposition they knew who was supposed to be commanding the vessel. If anyone other than the admiral headed up the landing party, those below would ask questions, questions that Richard was unprepared to answer at this stage of the game. They couldn’t start out from a position of weakness, not knowing if their hosts were peaceful or violently opportunistic.

  The shuttle landed near the coordinates they’d been given, the old city of Katmandu. Scans showed that the city was fairly primitive, without power plants, industrial activity, or advanced means of transportation. It looked like a relic from the eighteenth century instead of a city with technological capabilities.

  When the landing party exited the shuttle, a delegation of locals was arriving. The Himalayas stood to the north and were an impressive sight even at that distance. Richard recalled a memory as he viewed the distant mountain range. On his wedding night, he’d told his wife that he wanted to scale the world’s tallest peak after his retirement from the navy. Clenching his jaw, Richard looked away. There was no point in dwelling on the past.

  The delegation that arrived was small, consisting of an older gentleman of medium build and height who looked Nepali; a woman of approximately the same age and nationality who, judging by her physical proximity to the aforementioned, was probably the man’s wife; a middle-aged man with long, black hair who appeared to be of Indian descent; a young woman who appeared to be Chinese; and a taller person, a male who stood at the back of the delegation wearing a light-brown robe, its hood pulled up over his head. The man kept his head down, the robe casting his face in shadow.

  “Must be a priest,” he heard Dr. Singh whisper.

  Glancing over at the doctor, Richard saw that he’d directed his comment to Lt. Muldoon, who was staring intently at the hooded figure. After what they’d been through on New Terra, it was hard to imagine her not being wary, especially of a mysterious figure whose face was hidden. As Singh suggested, the man was likely a priest; however, it paid to be cautious in situations such as this.

  The older gentleman stepped forward, placed his palms together, and bowed. He wore a blue, wrap-around silk shirt and loose fitting silk pants. His clothes were comfortably inelegant, yet his demeanor, though warm and friendly, told Richard that he was anything but a commoner. He had the distinct air of nobility about him.

  “Welcome, Katherine Axelrod, Richard Allison, Gloria Muldoon, Gurdev Singh, and Mona Levin, along with your brave security personnel,” he said. “Namaste, my name is Mahendra Hayu, First Council to the Asian Delegation of the World Congress. I speak for all the people of Earth when I say, welcome home.”

  The entire Nepali delegation placed their palms together and bowed in unison. The landing party looked at each other nervously before imitating the gesture. As he bowed, Richard was baffled, wondering how the First Council knew their names.

  Admiral Axelrod stepped forward and held out her hand. “Thank you, First Council Hayu, we are extremely happy to be home. You honor us—” Stopping in mid-stride, the admiral abruptly doubled over. With a guttural rasp of pain rising in her throat, she collapsed to the ground.

  Everyone in the landing party rushed to the admiral’s aide, uttering multiple exclamations of surprise. Richard, being the first to her side, dropped to the ground and rolled Katherine onto her back. She looked paler than before, ashen, her cheeks hollow. He saw the skin around her neck visibly tighten. Something wasn’t right.

  “Let me through,” Dr. Singh shouted. Pushing a security officer to one side, he gazed down at the admiral. “We need to start CPR immediately. Clear her airway, Commander, while I—” Having knelt beside the admiral, Singh stopped short upon seeing her ghastly pallor. He reared back in alarm as the skin on her face and neck tightened before his very eyes. A crackling sound was heard. It was as if the admiral’s bones were caving in. “My God! We need to isolate her. I—I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  In the turmoil, the Nepali delegation had become secondary. Until, from the back of the group, a loud, familiar voice said, “Move away from her. Do it now!” Richard couldn’t believe his ears. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the person they assumed was a priest push his way to the front of the delegation and throw back his hood. Richard blinked in confusion. His startled mind was refusing to accept the implausible sight that strode so purposefully toward them. The man under the hood was none other than Solomon Chavez. Other than Gloria, who appeared more relieved than surprised by this development, the rest of the landing party stared in stunned confusion.

  Hearing more crackling and popping, Richard tore his gaze from this implausible sight, only to witness something equally improbable: Katherine’s skin was stretched tight across her skull. She appeared skeletal. Her body began to shake violently. With one last agonized groan escaping her desiccated lips, her back arched and with a sickening crunch, her body crumpled inward, her skull collapsing before Richard’s horrified eyes.

  Both Richard and a terrified Dr. Singh fell backward in disbelief. Suddenly, a dark-gray cloud swarmed from Katherine’s mouth, her nose and ears.

  “Move back!” shouted
Solomon. “Give me room!”

  Like the rest of the landing party, Richard was transfixed by the strange cloud emerging from the admiral’s corpse. Solomon’s words brought him back to his senses. Climbing to his feet, he slowly backed away. The three-foot-wide cloud swirled then morphed into the face of a woman. It was staring at Solomon Chavez with a look of puzzlement.

  “This is most peculiar,” the image said. “I did not expect to see you here, Dr. Chavez.”

  “Hello, Athena.”

  When Richard heard the strange apparition’s name, everything made sense: here, suspended above the admiral’s corpse, was a portion of the nanobotic AI that had controlled New Terra for thousands of years, the same entity that wanted to spread itself across the universe in an effort to become an all-powerful, mechanical god. It must have implanted a portion of itself inside the admiral during her abdominal surgery and then, at the opportune moment, consumed her body’s minerals and emerged. Athena would strip the Earth of all its remaining resources, and swarm into space, if they failed to stop the creature here and now.

  “How do you still live, Dr. Chavez?” Athena asked. “Like Mr. Waters, you were sent to your death in the void. I am unclear how he survived, yet he did. Unlike him, you did not return with the others onboard your namesake. If you were somehow transported to Earth during your escape from the void, you should be long dead by now … yet you are not. I would very much like to learn how you accomplished this feat before I begin using this planet’s resources for my own ends.”

  Solomon shook his head and frowned. “I see that you’re still as talkative as ever.”

  Athena waited for a moment, thinking he would say more, before declaring, “Your survival is unimportant. The only thing that matters is my survival—which I have achieved, despite your pathetic attempts to thwart my providential destiny. As you can see, I have won, and this time, the psychic is not here to stop me.”

  Athena’s face morphed back into a nanobotic swarm, which began to climb skyward.

  “I’d think twice before making such an arrogantly narcissistic statement, Athena,” Solomon said. Closing his eyes, he lifted his chin, letting the sun shine down on his tan, aquiline face.

  Athena’s progress slowed to a stop, the nanobotic material bunching together.

  Richard and the others heard a faint, baffled voice say, “What is the meaning of this?” before the swarm compressed into a foot-wide, dark-gray sphere and vanished before their very eyes.

  •

  The landing party stared in shock at the section of sky where Athena disappeared. And then, with an equal amount of bewilderment, they turned to stare at Solomon—all except for Gloria, who knew Solomon’s secret. She looked neither bewildered nor shocked. The joy in her eyes was readily apparent.

  Seeing her uncharacteristic elation, Solomon’s memories of Selena, his long-dead daughter, jumbled together with the few memories he had of Gloria. She appeared very much like how he always imagined Selena would look if she’d grown into womanhood. But this wasn’t Selena. After three thousand years, he barely remembered the woman before him. In fact, many of his early memories had faded with time. The human brain possessed the remarkable ability to store an enormous amount of data; however, after his first thousand years of life, Solomon had begun to notice that his new memories were supplanting the old. As more time slipped away, so too did his earliest memories. After recognizing this fact, he was forced to frequently remind himself of memories he could ill afford to forget: those of Selena and his wife, his time in the South American jungle, the mission to Epsilon Eridani, how Bram Waters saved his life, and significant memories from after his arrival on Earth.

  It pleased him that Gloria was happy to see him still alive. Perhaps now they would have the opportunity to create new, lasting memories together. With that, a memory rose to the surface, an event he thought had evaporated from his mind: he’d given Gloria a blood transfusion. The same virus that kept him alive also inhabited the blood in her veins. Barring any unfortunate accidents, they would have plenty of time to reacquaint themselves.

  “Is that really you, Dr. Chavez?”

  He turned his attention to a wary Commander Allison and nodded his affirmation.

  “But how?” asked Dr. Singh, squinting suspiciously. He pointed at Mahendra. “They’re trying to deceive us. This man cannot be Solomon Chavez. We all know he was lost on New Terra over three thousand years ago, relatively speaking. He’s an impostor.”

  Singh’s threatening tone prompted Solomon’s companions to step forward in a protective manner. He waved them back. “I am Solomon Chavez. As to why I’m here and how I got here, all will be explained in good time.” He offered Gloria a grateful smile. “Judging by my reception, it seems that I trusted the correct people with certain aspects of my past which I hoped to keep secret … thank you.”

  Richard turned a frown on Gloria, wondering what she’d been holding back. He motioned to a security officer. “Grab a body bag. We’ll store the admiral’s remains on the shuttle until we return to the Arrow. We’ll hold a memorial service, followed by a funeral in space, with full military honors. Admiral Katherine Axelrod was a great leader, a true hero. Her body will be placed in orbit over Great Britain. She’d like that.” Squaring his shoulders, Richard turned to Solomon and fixed him with a penetrating stare. Richard was now the captain of the Arrow, and he wanted answers. “We owe you a debt of gratitude, Solomon. You acted quickly to avert a horrible disaster. However, if you don’t mind me asking: What kind of technology did you use to destroy the AI? Are you concealing a weapon?”

  Solomon glanced at the Nepali delegation and smiled, then faced Richard. “You’ve read Bram Waters’ report stating what occurred in Athena’s underground bunker. After being consigned to the void, he opened a foldway through space—for each of us. His foldway returned him to New Terra, while mine sent me to Earth. The human race has gone through a few changes since the Arrow departed for Epsilon Eridani … as have I.”

  “I’m sure you have, Dr. Chavez,” Richard said. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “After the Yellowstone disaster, our civilization sank into chaos,” Solomon explained. “Only the strongest, most resourceful people survived—and I don’t mean the cruelest or the most underhanded. I mean those who fought for their families, their friends, and their neighbors. Those who worked together managed to struggle through the dark years after the fall. Billions died that first year with millions more dying each year afterward, until the Earth’s population was near extinction levels. Those who worked together to avoid the cannibals, the rape gangs, and the ruthless local despots that sprang up over time, were the heroes who saved the human race. Their empathetic natures and love for each other won out over the Every Man for Himself ethos that added to the chaos. As the latter fought and died over every scrap of food, the peaceful ones traveled far from the last vestiges of civilization and began anew.

  “After nearly two centuries of horrific suffering, the human race had dwindled to barely over one hundred thousand individuals who lived in various harmonious collectives scattered far and wide across the globe. Those survivors continued to suffer for many decades of climate change before the Earth began its recovery.” Solomon could see that he had their attention. “The old ways of living no longer applied. People lived much simpler, much closer to the land, closer to the ways of preagricultural tribes people, and it worked well for them. There were a few things they held onto from the previous culture: the religious values of their forebears for one, even though the religious dogmas themselves fell by the wayside. They worshipped the one thing that kept them strong, that kept them together while everything else fell apart … and that thing was love. Anything that furthered their love for each other was worth striving for. Love became their religion.”

  Someone in the back of the landing party huffed in derision. It was Mona Levin. “As happy as I am to see you again, Solomon, you’re sounding like one of those New Age wacko
s we made fun of in the old days. You’re a scientist, for heaven’s sake. It’s a good thing we decided to return to Earth. It needs us. After the colonists are transferred groundside, we can begin to redevelop the planet—only more conscientiously this time. Industry will work in harmony with nature, which I’m sure your friends will appreciate. We won’t ruin the planet like we did before. Isn’t that right, Commander Allison?”

  Richard nodded. “That was the original plan … if we returned to Earth and found it reduced to a primitive state. Do you know the world’s population status, Dr. Chavez? A workforce estimate will be needed when we make arrangements to—”

  “I’m afraid those plans will have to change, Commander.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Solomon looked him square in the eye. “There’ll be no industrial redevelopment of the Earth. You may transfer your people down to the planet, but we have no need of your technology. There will be no industry—however benign—to blight the Earth’s landscape. Never again! We like things the way they are, and our minds are set on this point.”

  The landing party glanced around at each other, obviously skeptical about this turn of events.

  “But, Solomon, if we turn our backs on technology,” Mona argued, “the human race will be trapped on Earth. We’ll never expand to the stars. Besides, according to our surveys, the world’s animals were decimated after the disaster. We need technology to bring the Earth back to life.”

  Solomon paused to think, or listen to something unheard, before answering her complaint. “I admit, there is some beneficial use for the technology onboard the Arrow. We shall allow certain procedures to take place, such as restoring the animal and plant life that became extinct during the Dark Years. However, Earth’s human population will stay at its current sum of ten million people, give or take fifty thousand souls at any one time. That will not change, nor will our other demands.”