by T. R. Harris
The other Aris clustered around Panur and J’nae, ignoring the primitive Human and Formilian. Adam was okay with this, even though he was worried that the Aris could still read his thoughts, either directly or through his ATD. If they could, it would be very hard to plan the unexpected. He needed a definitive answer to his dilemma. It would be a risk, but without verification, any attempt to escape would be futile.
Without accessing his ATD, he let out an intense thought: I’m going to activate the interphase jamming device, pull my M-101, and waste every last one of you stinking aliens. It seemed like something he would be thinking. He reached into his pocket and found the control box. He waited for a reaction from the Aris.
There was none.
Next, he accessed his ATD and sent out a thought.
Can we see her? he asked mentally.
The Aris named Nunki looked down the line at Adam. “Do you not trust my assertion that she is well?” he said aloud.
“Can you blame me…we just met?”
The pale-skinned alien smiled. “Yes, you may see her.”
Adam had his proof. He could think freely, so long as he didn’t link his brain with the ATD.
His experiment had the added benefit of producing Lila. His mutant daughter entered through an open portal, unaccompanied and free of an interphase prison, and with a small, greenish orb held in both hands before her.
Zee? Adam asked through his ATD.
It is me, Adam Cain. I am both pleased and saddened to see you again.
Lila, can you hear me?
Yes, father. I, too, share Zee’s emotions. And Trimen has come as well. I appreciate the effort, yet I fear you may be helpless to save me…or yourselves.
Adam cut the link with his ATD. That’s what you think, he thought to himself. With Lila now present, what better time than now to initiate the rescue?
Adam pressed the button on the jamming device in his pocket, as his left hand gripped the stock of his M-101, ready to spin it around from his back and into firing position. The thin blue film separating himself from the Aris disappeared, and a moment later his weapon was leveled at the closest of the four aliens.
An invisible wall hit him hard, sending his body flying across the room and to the metal floor ten feet away. He was dazed, his vision blurry, with his arms extended to his sides, fingers gripping the air from involuntary muscle spasms.
The condition passed quickly and he was able to sit up. Two of the Aris were standing over him, wearing neutral expressions on their pale faces. One of them held up his right hand, palm facing Adam.
“We anticipated one of you taking such action once the Apex Being entered the room. There was a ninety-two percent probability it would be you, since you are the warrior of the group and carrying the most external armament, giving you a sense of confidence and power.” The alien glanced at his hand. “We have embedded in our hands a low-frequency sonic device. The signal cannot be heard audibly, yet it sends out a powerful sound wave that compresses the air into an almost solid moving force. It is non-lethal, yet can suppress an adversary, as you have seen. Now stop such nonsense. We do not intend you any harm. We only seek what is rightfully ours.”
Adam climbed to his feet. “Which is?”
“The end product of our experiments—immortality.”
Chapter 12
The Aris had dissolved the interphase bubbles after they discovered Adam’s team had a way of countering them. But they did confiscate the jamming controllers, so technically it was no longer possible for them to escape the effect if the bubbles were reintroduced. The Aris didn’t seem concerned. With the revelation of their sonic devices, it opened up the possibility that they had other tricks up their sleeve—or under their skin.
Nunki asked Panur if he was going to cause problems, to which the mutant promised to behave. He and J’nae seemed to have crossed a figurative threshold, from intent to rescue Lila to being more curious and amazed by the Aris. Adam and Trimen didn’t feel the same. They are so far removed from the level of the Aris—as well as the mutants for that matter—that all this awe and wonder was wasted on them. They wouldn’t understand even if the aliens took the time to explain their every invention.
Still, that didn’t stop the Aris from trying.
Adam had seen it many times before. The people—or aliens—in a position of power were often so enamored with themselves that they spent far too much time explaining to the captives what powerful and intelligent beings they were. Adam called it the James Bond Syndrome, where the bad guy would give Bond a walking tour of his facility, revealing all its secrets and purpose, and giving the secret agent time to work out an escape plan. The Aris were no different. In fact, they were going overboard.
“What do you think of our facility?” Nunki asked Panur. “It has survived for three billion years; only stars and rock last as long—in addition to threads of life.”
“It is amazing,” Panur agreed. “However, it could not have survived for all that time intact. It would require constant maintenance…and more.”
“That is true. Please, all of you follow me. As you can imagine, we get so few visitors that it would bring us great pride to provide you a tour.”
The entourage moved off, leaving the huge reception room and entering a long corridor. They passed through a portal on the right and into a huge room populated by spindly robots—most walking on two thin legs, and others on four wheels.
“The facility is seven hundred miles in diameter, comprised of six levels, all within a narrow range to provide a relatively stable gravity from the generators below. You have probably already surmised that our deflection ring is just that, a means of protecting us from the low-level radiation streaming in from the space around us. All of this requires the upkeep and modifications you mentioned. We employ a workforce of six hundred robots and service modules at any given time, which also require maintenance and replacement as necessary.”
Nunki held out his hand and Zee materialized in his palm. “My personal module is by far the oldest, having been placed in a protective layer of rock at the beginning of the encasement period. It is not as advanced as the others, only able to teleport over short distances rather than hover in space. Over time, there have been three million, eight hundred thousand other modules constructed, placed in service and then retired, but not my special Zee.”
The next chamber they were led to was a vast room with row upon row of huge blocks reaching five stories high. There were ladders running diagonally across their faces, along with a myriad of electronics embedding in the metal surface.
“These are our Encasement Chambers,” Nunki narrated. “There are one hundred twenty-four of them.”
“Is that all of the Aris that are left?” J’nae asked. Her tone sounded…panicky almost to Adam.
The alien turned to the mutant, a sad smile on his face. “At the end of our homeworld, there were only three hundred nine remaining Aris. They were the last born by natural means, with the oldest over eight thousand years old. When the encasement was first proposed, some of the Aris chose to not participate. One hundred twenty-four did, hence the chambers.”
“If your purpose was to cheat evolution, hadn’t you done that already with your extended lifespans,” J’nae asked. “Evolution primarily takes place through successive generations.”
“That is true, however there is still molecular and cellular modifications taking place within individuals. Yet this process takes time and is seldom observed during normal lifespans. With the enhanced life of the Aris, evolution was still occurring.”
“Enhanced?” Panur asked.
“Yes. The Aris have been able to extend our lifespan through the use of artificial methods, including organ replacements and other implants. Witness our ability to communicate telepathically. That is achieved by an implant vastly superior—yet similar too—that of the Formilian’s. And our sonic weapon is an implant as well, along with many others.”
The alien displayed sadness o
n his pale face. “It is from this fact that the search for immortality began.” Nunki walked up to one of the huge structures and ran his hand along the smooth surface. “We were encased in solid nitrogen, not only to suspend our bodily functions, but also to stop the molecular evolution that would take place over the term of our encasement.”
“I do not understand,” said Trimen. “You had already achieved immortality through your replacements and enhancements—at least immortality in practicality. Molecular evolution must be such a prolonged process compared to birth mutations that your longevity would be measured in the millions, if not billions of years.”
“That is also true, yet place yourself within the minds of the Aris. Maintaining such a long life term requires almost constant upkeep of the body. One such as us aged five thousand years requires the bulk of his time to be spent undergoing operations and improvements, as well as a careful balance of a specific energy which only we can produce. A life such as that is hardly living, and the older the Aris, the less time was available for learning and exploration.”
“So you seek authentic immortality,” Trimen concluded.
Nunki stepped up to the Formilian, his eyes bright and his chest expanded. “Forgive me as I continue to marvel at your presence—and that of the Human. I am still in awe of the final results of our grand experiment.” He glanced at Lila. “Zee only sent the signal that the Apex Being existed a little over a year ago. It was at that time that the Aris began to be revived.”
He stood back and held out his hands. “Observe my perspective. One moment I am being encased in the nitrogen device. My eyes close…and a moment later they open again. In that brief interval—of which I had no awareness—three billion years have passed. Our delicate manipulations of primitive life on Earth and Formil—as well as thousands of others—have already journeyed along the long and dangerous path of evolution to become what you are today. Some of the lines survived, some didn’t. Some mutated beyond what we had anticipated, while other lines did not produce the results we planned for. Yet in what was a blink of an eye to me and the other Aris, the entire galaxy blossomed with life—our life—and with a singular purpose of producing the Apex Being.”
“How could you have calculated all the variables, all the uncertainties that would occur over such an extended time period?” Panur asked.
Adam had never seen the mutant like this before. He had finally met beings smarter than he, and it was showing. Adam got the impression that if the Aris wore rings and wished Panur to kiss them, he would. The prospect of escape was looking dimmer by the moment.
“We experimented over a vast range of worlds and methods, knowing that a small percentage of them would produce results. The Formilians, for example, were cast with a particular gene, which over time, produced the pheromones that would make them attractive to off-world species. That was the key to producing the Apex Being.”
“So any alien mating with a Formilian would produce—Lila?” Adam asked.
The Aris smiled at Adam. “No…that is not how it works. Contrary to your belief, there are multiple races joining with Formilians at this very moment, and have for many generations. It was designed that way. However, it is an exceedingly rare genetic combination—down to the individual level—that produced…Lila. What she is today is not only immortal, but other things, that being the result of her Human heritage. If her immortality had come about from a different paring, she would have other mutations.”
“But why me?”
“That is unknown, and irrelevant. The fact that your chemistry was able to overcome the differences in species—and that the Apex Being was created as a result—is what matters. We only need one.”
“One immortal?”
“That is true, however, we are fortunate that now we have three such beings. It will make our transition that much easier.”
“What transition?” J’nae asked.
“To becoming immortal ourselves.”
Chapter 13
The tour continued for another three hours, as their Aris guide showed them control centers, energy generators and scientific laboratories. None of the prisoners broached the subject of the transition to immortality again, probably because they knew they wouldn’t like the answer. At least that would be Adam’s reaction—although he had nothing to fear from that subject. Yet the mutants—all of them, including Lila—seemed excited about what the Aris were showing them, oblivious to the threat hanging over their heads. How the Aris expected to transfer immortality from one being to another was a mystery that didn’t seem to bother them.
After a while, Adam begged the tour to stop. He was tired, hungry and needed to take a piss. It took a moment for the Aris to understand his concern; the mutants could care less, and neither did the Aris. Eventually they capitulated and led the group to a large room with a rectangular table made of stone. Finding a bathroom in the place was another problem, requiring an army of robots to construct one over the course of five minutes. It was something to see, as they scurried about installing plumbing, walls and a makeshift toilet. Only Adam and Trimen took advantage of the newest addition to the Aris space station.
The non-Aris sat on one side of the long table, with everyone else on the other. Four of the tiny service orbs rested next to the Aris, with faint lines of blue energy streaming through the air and into the chests of the aliens. Adam knew they fed directly on energy, so this was their meal, while Adam and Trimen were served processed food based on their particular body chemistry. Lila, Panur and J’nae declined both food and energy. They could sustain themselves fine without any new infusion.
“You mentioned only one hundred twenty four Aris participated in the encasement program,” Trimen began. “What happened to the others?”
Nunki continued in his role as host. Adam had learned that it was he, and he alone, who had visited Earth and Formil, so the Apex Being—Lila—was his pet project and the crowning achievement of the Aris to date. This gave him a type of elevated status among his people.
The alien now reached out a hand and touched a finger to his service module—Zee. “They succumbed to the ravages of time.”
“I am confused,” Trimen continued. “Could they not have continued as before? Your civilization was a million years old at the time you began this grand experiment. You had the means to move to other worlds.”
“Your basic assumptions are correct, yet not your perspective. You ask what became of the Aris who did not participate in the encasing? They simply allowed their various organs and implants to fail. Once the process began, they died most conventional deaths.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they had grown tired. Our race had very shortsightedly eliminated conventional reproduction abilities thousands of years before, and as detailed before, had elected to sustain our population through artificial means. This process—the constant need for more operations and enhancements—is quite wearisome and time-consuming. Some Aris did not see the value in existence under these conditions. And being the curious creatures that we are, many chose instead to explore existence on a different plane—if indeed that plane existed.”
“Yet you and your followers chose a different path,” J’nae said softly.
Nunki studied her for a moment before continuing. “Yes. Some of us believed there was a form of natural immortality, one which did not require the replacements and enhancements. At the time, we could not find any such immortals in the galaxy, so we set out to create them.” He looked at Lila. “Lila is the end result.”
“One hundred twenty-four of you exist?” Trimen asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Nunki replied. “Even the Aris are not perfect. Over time, some of our encasement units failed, killing the occupants. Others were revived early and decided not to participate any longer in the experiment. In the end, only eighteen of us remain to this day.”
“I still find it amazing how you were able to do this, and over such a long timescale.” Adam said.
“The other path we could take involved suspending our evolution while our experiments came to fruition. Some of us saw this not so much as an alternate course, but rather a postponement of the inevitable. If our experiments failed, then we would simply start anew, evolving into what we would eventually become.” He looked at Lila. “I still vividly recall everything about the universe of the far distance past. And now I am here, sitting at a table with not only the end product of our Human and Formilian experiments, but with the immortal being herself. The Aris may be ancient, yet we still retain emotions. This is a very exciting time for us.”
