Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1)

by Marlin Desault

  Klaas and Marie filed out of the room glancing furtively at each other. “Great, now we’re a couple of damn detectives,” Klaas griped loud enough for Scott to hear.

  Anton completed his check of the interceiver and returned to the main table. The circles around his eyes were less dark than the day before. “Captain, we’re linked to Pegasus, so I can access my program and the most recent data on that corrupt file.”

  Scott joined Anton as he established contact with the ship.

  Anton keyed the icons on the interceiver. “I’ll download the results. You’ll have it as soon as—”

  “Captain Drumond.” Thane Gotow abruptly appeared at the portal. “The proconsul asks if you would join him.”

  The escort led Scott to what the Niobians called the ascensior. It whisked them to the top of the Refectory, where they stepped out onto a high terrace.

  “Over here, Captain.” The proconsul sat near a low wall in the shade of an umbrella, motioning to a cushioned chair. “If you don’t mind the informality, we may continue our discussion. I have quite a few more questions for you.” He pointed to a glass on the table next to Scott. It contained a pale amber liquid garnished with some small green leaves. “It is a cool beverage made from local herbs, and we find it a pleasant drink on warm days.”

  Scott took a sip and eyed the proconsul. “From our brief time on Niobe, I conclude you have a society untroubled by conflict.”

  With a sweep of his arm, Proconsul Wimund gestured out over the scene beyond the Refectory. “Down there you see a village. It’s one of twenty such settlements. Our population numbers over ten thousand now, and you are correct—we live in reasonable harmony with each other and with the land.”

  In the valley below the Refectory, a collection of cinnamon-colored buildings of two and three levels shone as an island in a shimmering meadow of grassland surrounded by a dominant forest.

  A smile crossed Scott’s lips. “Incredible, an entire planet and only ten thousand people. You certainly don’t lack the natural resources for a serene existence.”

  Proconsul stared out at the vista with a soft inner glow. “Our ancestors wanted a new, tranquil society that would never experience the violence they left behind on Earth. They crafted a new society according to their ideals. Now is the time, I think, to share the details with you. We, their subsequent generations, have carried on their tradition.” Wimuind’s eyes misted over as he stared into the distance. “On Niobe we have eliminated the desire for any individual to dominate another. This single tenet of our society is the basis for our tranquil existence. There is no striving for advantage or authority over one another.”

  “And how did you achieve this?”

  An amused smile crossed the proconsul’s face. “We encourage with logic and reason. Our citizens simply have no desire to exercise power over others. Generation after generation, with a combination of conditioning and genetics, we have bred all such instincts out of them.”

  “Do you use peer pressure or a form of brainwashing? I apologize if the word offends. I suppose you have a different term.” Scott tensed for a moment, then relaxed.

  The proconsul laughed. “It’s neither, and we have no precise word. We simply refer to it as our Tradition. We discourage childish attempts at dominance by the use of positive reinforcement of appropriate behavior. It’s really quite easy, if you approach it correctly.”

  “But you, Proconsul, and the Ekklesia, you dominate the entire society, do you not?”

  “Ah, again you reach conclusions too quickly. No individual dominates. We reason together. We may even disagree, but we do not strive for dominance. We suggest to each other, and we do not give one another orders. We accept that each is free to follow his own path.”

  “But, Proconsul, this is contrary to human nature,” Scott countered. “Over time it won’t work. Humans can’t function in such a system. There is no way a collection of humans can act in a coordinated way, to cooperate and accomplish great things without some dominating others. Dominance is the result of millions of years of evolution from the earliest primates.”

  “You still do not understand, my dear Captain.” Proconsul leaned back with a polite smile. “It can be done. Just because we have no desire to dominate, doesn’t mean we can’t work as a group to accomplish noble goals of monumental proportions. Look at the Refectory. It’s a magnificent structure, is it not?”

  “Certainly, but how do you reward good work and discourage shirkers? Someone must have authority to grant favors, withhold privileges, impose punishment.”

  “You are obviously too imbued with the methods of Earth to understand.” With a smug twist of his lips, Proconsul paused, studying Scott’s face as if he were trying to fathom a bottomless pool. “Perhaps if you spent more time among our people.”

  “I would like nothing more than to meet and travel among your people.”

  Proconsul placed his hands flat on the table. “Good, then it’s decided. I’ll place our historian at your service tomorrow. She can show you how our society functions. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve already met Ariela, and found her rather agreeable.”

  At day’s end, Scott sat down opposite Marie. “Did you learn anything of the Niobian technical capabilities, meet any of their scientists?”

  “Yes, I met a half dozen of their scientists, and learned they have amazing skills in plant biology. They also told me they don’t believe there is any way through the gradient other than the opening we found.”

  “Then they must think they’re pretty safe from attack.”

  “That’s my best guess, Skipper.” She leaned on her elbows. “The opening is their only vulnerability—that is, unless they have some way of preventing an aggressor from passing through it.”

  “They couldn’t do that unless they had some sort of weapon.” Scott settled into his chair. “Do they possess the technology to create one? Given all their buildings and technology, they must have rather sophisticated engineering. Could they use those capabilities to develop a weapon?”

  “Theirs is a fascinating technology. Some of it consists of special arrangements of carbon atoms.” Marie rested her arm on the table. “Their machines are created in two ways. First, they have the ability to grow complex biological structures, and second, they have advanced self-assembly of carbon and metal molecules. I suppose that skill could be used to make a weapon.”

  “I was told their building structures are—?”

  “Yes, grown mostly.” She tossed her head back and hesitated, as if to capture a wayward thought. “Under high magnification, the walls are actually an intricate weave of tiny growing plant stems covered by micro-sized leaves. The weave is tight enough to appear as a solid object with a smooth surface. It sounds ludicrous, but it’s something like an advanced, super Bonsai draped with a tightly woven moss.”

  Scott burst out in laughter. “We’re living inside a giant plant?”

  “That’s about the size of it.” She glanced away and shrugged.

  “What’s their source of power? Nuclear?”

  Marie glared over her nose, and assumed her lecture mode. “No, it’s bio-electric. The power comes from a type of plant that sheds and absorbs charged particles. The particles are collected and routed through carbon fibers.”

  “Do you think you’re getting the whole story?”

  “For the most part, yes, except for when they explained their carbon self-assembly processes.” She nodded and continued. “They use self-assembly techniques for almost everything they have, but I think they’re holding something back. I’m certain whatever it is, it’s significant.”

  “Are they hiding some type of weapon?”

  “If so, they’ve concealed it pretty well. I’m operating on small bits of information. They were reluctant to explain the way they control the assembly of carbon molecules.”

  Scott sat back and eased out a slow sigh. “Thanks for the report. I want you to return to the ship tomorrow and write up a report for Explor
ation Command HQ. Anton will stay here with me for the next few days while I continue my discussions with the proconsul.”

  He’d barely finished speaking when Ariela joined them. “Good morning, Captain. You have brought another of your crew to our planet, one I haven’t met before.”

  “Yes, Ariela.” He extended his arm toward Marie. “Lieutenant Marie Zirkel, our mission scientist. She’d like to know more about your technical advances.”

  Marie reacted with a smile. “Please call me Marie, if you don’t mind the familiarity.”

  “We prefer informality.” Ariela eyes crinkled as she smiled. “It’s part of our culture. I apologize in advance if I am awkward in your customs. Our knowledge of you comes to us from history handed down from our ancestors, and from the data files they left us.”

  “Your informality is refreshing,” Marie said with a tilt of her head. “The captain and I were discussing the time gradient.”

  “Yes, it is a wonder.” Ariela dropped her arms and clasped her hands in front. “We’ve studied the gradient from the inside. I’m sure our scientists will tell you all we know of it. The Ekklesia has instructed me to help you in any way I can.”

  That evening, Anton appeared at the portal to Scott’s quarters. “The Interceiver link to Pegasus’ computer is up, Skipper. I downloaded the latest computer reconstructions of the corrupt ECCO file and put the result in your private computer memory cache. It didn’t completely recover the file, but you may be able to gather some idea from the text scraps that the algorithms reconstructed.”

  Scott hurried to his personal terminal, keyed in his personal code and concentrated on his display. Several sentence fragments appeared. “What’s this?” He pointed to the characters: om... simir... to: Di. 788. “Any idea what this means?”

  “Possibly.” Anton rubbed his fingers across his hand. “If the message were in Panhelion military format, it would have a header sequence.”

  “If it were in our format, what would you make of it?”

  “See the OM part? Given its position in the message, it’s part of the header. That looks like the word ‘FROM’”

  “And SIMIR?” Curiosity raged in Scott’s brain.

  “A name, or part of the name of the sender.” Anton’s lips quivered for a moment. “This message was sent by SIMIR, or maybe a SIMIROW. The DIV... 788 must be Division 788. This was sent to Division 788, but there is no Division 788 in the Panhelion military organizational structure.”

  Three hours later, Anton returned. “Sir, the computer has reconstructed more of the message.”

  “Do you have the sender’s name and when it was sent?” Scott shot the questions to Anton in rapid fire. “I mean exactly.”

  “Skipper, the name on the message is Kasimir, and whoever he is, he sent this message three days ago and then erased the file copy.”

  “Three days ago? Are you sure? You and I were on Niobe three days ago.” Scott stared into space as if to distance an ugly thought. “Only two people were on board Pegasus at that time.”

  “I’m certain, Captain. The name is Kasimir, and the message was definitely sent from Pegasus’ ECCO transmitter three days ago.” Anton’s eyes brightened as he caught the significance of the date and time. “It had to be—”

  “A spy. Kasimir is either Klaas or Marie.”

  Niobe

  ~~~

  In the cool stillness surrounded by leafy green, Ariela sat cross-legged and drew slow, deep breaths as she meditated in the garden on the towering top of the Refectory terrace. Moist morning air condensed into glistening droplets of dew on the short, auburn hair that fell around her face and curled in just below her cheekbones.

  High over the far stratum where Niobe’s edge sheared the brightening sky, thin layers of clouds tinged with gold presaged the coming dawn. The Niobian sun, poised behind the eastern horizon, would rise to turn the twilight-gray sky pastel blue, and burn away the night mist that covered the conifer forest below.

  In a ritual begun as a young girl, she rose early to watch the beginning of each new day. Now grown, and appointed official historian of Niobe, she lived in her own section of the Refectory.

  She shivered momentarily, not from the cool air, but from the promise of the day to come. Subtle emotions filled her with a strange fascination for the man from another world. She wanted to know more of Earth and the captain of the visiting starship. He treated her with courtesy that somehow reminded her of the Niobian tradition, yet she had a strange sensation in his presence, a sensation that sprang from her subconscious.

  Her uncle, Proconsul Wimund, had encouraged her to give the captain a tour of Niobe. He further expressed the hope that she and the captain from far away would become friends. She eagerly agreed to Proconsul’s suggestion.

  Her meditation complete, she attended to her morning grooming routine and slipped into a knee-length chiffon dress and took the ascensior to ground level.

  Ariela hurried to Proconsul’s office. “Uncle Wimund, I’m to meet with the captain from Earth in a few minutes.”

  Wimund stood and rounded his desk where he invited her to sit on the divan in his office. “I’m delighted to hear it. You like him, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Not that I think less of our Niobian men, but he’s different, and I confess I find the difference intriguing.”

  “He doesn’t share our Tradition. Perhaps that’s the difference that attracts you,” he said. “He stirs emotions in you that no doubt have been dormant in our women for many generations.”

  “When I’m around him, I have an odd feeling of security that I’ve never had before. I might easily take him as a companion.”

  Wimund chuckled softly. “It’s your choice. I’ve watched him over the last weeks. Though he was raised in the society of our distant ancestors and has dominant tendencies, he also has a gentle side.”

  “Thank you, Uncle, for hearing me out and for your advice.”

  As she turned to leave, he called out to her. “A companionship between you and the captain might benefit both our worlds.”

  At the Refectory entrance, she greeted Scott with the slight curtsy common among the Niobian women.

  “You look very... ah, attractive,” he stammered.

  Ariela’s stomach fluttered at the compliment as she motioned toward the glide-car in the portico. “I’ve made arrangements for us to visit one of our villages. We can take our midday meal there, and afterwards, we can stop by the seashore for some quiet moments, if you like.”

  “My day is yours.” He grinned and gave a slight dip of his head. “I’m delighted you would take the time to show me around.”

  They settled in, and she addressed the car in a clear voice. “Destination... Dorocain, residence of the Thane.”

  The appropriate Indicators flashed, and the car dutifully responded with a barely perceptible motion as it accelerated over the green path leading out of the Refectory.

  Ariela glanced across to her passenger. “Proconsul told me you’d like to learn more about us.”

  “I would. I’m fascinated by Niobe and your achievements.”

  She reached into her shoulder bag and withdrew a cylinder the size of his thumb. “This is a gift for you. It’s a book with selected descriptions of our world and technology. You read it by sliding the gold-colored section back. It’ll project the video images and text in the space about a meter in front of the silver end.”

  Scott rolled the projector between his fingers. “I’m grateful.” He put the cylinder in the breast pocket of his tunic and continued the discussion. “Aside from the other night, I’ve seen you around the Refectory on other occasions. Do you go there often?”

  The glide-car continued on its way without further direction. “I live in the Refectory. I have a small apartment in the Northeast corner.”

  “Very convenient.” The corners of his lips turned up. “Do you live alone or with a companion?”

  She tossed her head back and laughed. “I live alone. The word companio
n has a special meaning for us. I suspect you don’t use it like we do.”

  Scott turned toward her as if to study the landscape outside the car. “I’d like to know more about how you use the word.”

  “The books our ancestors brought from Earth say you consider a companion more of a friend. We use the word to describe an intimate companionship.”

  Scott raised his brows at her statement. “I see. On Earth, we have liaisons between couples that snub our social mores.”

  She considered the statement, comparing it in her mind to the Niobian customs. “I know. Our books tell us of that too. Our companionships aren’t quite what you refer to as liaisons. They are more casual. No one here gives them a second thought. We’re a people who have no desire to dominate one another. As a result, if two people desire each other, we see no reason for them to deny each other physical pleasure.”

  Scott coughed and then caught his breath. “These ah... companions, do they ever remain together, afterward I mean?”

  Amused by his apparent embarrassment, she responded with a chuckle. “They remain together if they troth. Do you use the term troth on Earth?”

  “It’s an archaic word rarely used today. It means a public pledge of fidelity... like marriage.”

  She tilted her head toward him. “Yes, marriage. I’ve read the term, but marriage as you use the word on Earth is different. Even in troth our people do not dominate one another.” A thought occurred to her. “And you, are you—”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I was engaged, but my fiancée decided against a marriage.”

  The car moved out of the upland forest and followed the road through wide fields of barley-like stalks heavy with golden kernels. Near the village, the scene morphed into orchards, and the scent of citrus blossoms filled the glide-car as it nimbly negotiated the green roadway. In the center of the village, the vehicle decelerated to a stop in front of a cinnamon-colored building.

  Several Niobian men and women gathered at the entrance dressed in knee-length chitons and boots that extended to mid-calf. They greeted Ariela and Scott with curious smiles. The villagers wore their hair close-cropped, and the colors of their clothing ranged from auburn brown to sandy yellow.