by Gary Starta
“But she is stronger…than me.”
“You will understand how to remedy your situation one piece at a time by using the information we downloaded into your trans-processing unit. We must now sever our link so you can begin your task. Remember, you have great strength in you. It just needs to come to the surface.”
Before Mavra could ask another question, the Enlectite returned her to the meadow. She tumbled gently onto a patch of tall grass. Desperation grew in Mavra as she realized the yellow light no longer flashed on the Bendayen tree.
Accessing her hand held processor, it dawned on Mavra she had not just been proclaimed a prophet – but the Olvidian savior.
The unit chirped and read aloud, “This data will enable you to perform multiple re-sequencing procedures on any living organic unit. We hoped Alzabreah would achieve this goal one day; but your people would have been victims to her narcissistic and dominant nature. You will have all the resources necessary to cure illnesses in the living without inflicting further pain. Information has also been provided as to how you can spread this education among the mainlanders. Nurture with conscience – Love, Katyana.”
The next section contained entries from Katyana's personal diary. The journal informed Mavra how a transmission from the mainland had leaked through the force field containment barrier during wine export. The communiqué revealed the mainlanders recently discovered brain imaging. This technology confirmed that Alzabreah had violated Jodek without consent. Jodek's feelings for Katyana had been masked in the deep recesses of his mind as if they were contained in a long forgotten storage locker. Katyana planned to confront Alzabreah with this news on the day of her death, according to her last entry.
The final lines of the journal described the anxiety Katyana lived with day to day. She was the only Olvidian who knew genetic manipulation was not confined to the drones birthing process. She feared the consequences of this knowledge more than death itself.
“If Alzabreah became privy to this revelation,” Katyana wrote, “there was no telling how far she would go to control a population solely for her benefit. I can't begin to describe the horrors all living creatures would face if Alzabreah was given the means to mandate gene re-sequencing procedures,” the log read. “She would then have all the means necessary to play God as all future life would be created with weakness.”
Following the journal were the instructions the Enlectites referred to. Mavra sprinted towards a medical shack to retrieve the necessary supplies. She only hoped Alzabreah had not broken yet another promise.
Mavra fastened the supplies and a gun to a belt she hastily wrapped around her waist. She ran in the direction of the main temple. It was as if she already knew Alzabreah would forego the trials and conduct the operations. Were the Enlectites still telepathically linked with her mind?
She was about to dismiss this notion when her eyes locked with a granatide. The winged and wild beast was thought to be indigenous to this island. But how did it initially get here? Could the Enlectites have been behind this occurrence as a means to send proof of their existence? How else could this beast have been put on this island except through the gateways created by the electromagnetic storm? It was true that she had a processor full of notes thanks to a being, which claimed to be the essence of Katyana; but the data was not tangible. Now living proof – in flesh and blood – boldly stood before her to cast any further doubts aside.
To Mavra's knowledge, the granatides had always scattered in the opposite direction of any Olvidian. Today, this magnificent creature stood its ground. Mavra felt like the granatide silently called her to mount its backside. Mavra believed she would have nearly died from embarrassment if any of the sisters witnessed this event. Here she was in the middle of the village, attempting to communicate with a large red and green granatide, which sported purple horns and translucent gray wings.
Mavra strongly reminded herself that this was no time to philosophize about the creation of the island. If she didn't act quickly, the ramifications of Alzabreah’s actions might threaten all life. It made no sense to charge into the temple through the main gate and squander the element of surprise. No, the beast had been brought here for a specific reason.
Mavra quickened her gait from a trot to an all out run to meet the granatide. Jumping into the air, she landed squarely on its back. A loud of rustling of wings ensued. In less than a minute, the beast had elevated Mavra to the temple's rooftop and proceeded to fly away from the village as suddenly as it appeared.
A skylight was the first thing to catch Mavra's eye. Red, blue and green stained glass filled the oblong panes, which stood two strides away from her. Mavra bent down and peered feverishly through the darkish hues of the glass in an attempt to confirm her worst fears. But it was no use. She had no way to tell what was going on within the confines of the room below her.
Cradling her arms around her gun, she propelled herself onto the skylight. Mavra's weight sent tri-colored glass hurtling towards the ground. Her body followed in hot pursuit through the aperture. Using her hands to break her fall, Mavra rolled in a sideway revolution before her body came to rest just a few foot falls away from Alzabreah.
The high priestess wore a long purple cloak and held a staff in her left hand. She was feverishly punched codes into the base of the long stick before the intrusion. She was clearly not happy about being interrupted. Directly behind her, Doldruss and Thorpleen were horizontally bound to operating tables. Several of the sisters stood around them wearing surgical masks. Alzabreah looked like she was just about to order the commencement of the procedure. In her right hand, Mavra could now clearly tell she held a scalpel. The blade of the instrument gleamed off a nearby mirror. Mavra felt the flutter in the pit of her stomach quicken as she realized the high priestess was not going to access the drone's genomic template. If she were, she would use a laser beam. The use of a blade signaled a form of torture, and nothing short of barbaric murder.
* * *
Doctor Quan worked feverishly. Holed up in her lab, she waited while a mini incubator manipulated a piece of Alzabreah’s genetic coding. She was constructing an eyeball – a copy of Alzabreah’s eyeball to be precise. A retina scan allowed Alzabreah access to the command center. Quan prayed the cloned eyeball would provide her access as well. She needed to take down the force fields before any more drones were harmed. But she feared time was running out. The monitor before her relayed the impending horror about to take place at the temple.
* * *
Mavra was not about to waste another moment of time trying to dissuade Alzabreah. She recalled how Katyana frequently commented on the futility of engaging in verbal discourse with her sister. Reaching towards her waist, Mavra pulled the gun from its holster.
Before she could fire, she realized her hands were shaking from the impact of her fall. She took another split second to aim. The brief hesitation would not be bought without a cost. As Mavra pulled the trigger, a body hurtled in front of her. She had seen the image emerge out of the corner of her eye just an instant before, but she could not stop herself from pulling the weapon's trigger.
The gun released its payload into the chest of the drone, Caymond. He fell writhing in pain just an arm's length away from Mavra. He knew a deadly showdown would take place at the temple because of his premonition. But his programming had not completely deteriorated, compelled to protect the high priestess, he gave his life to protect her. The consequence provided Alzabreah with a clear path to take aim on Mavra. She gripped the blade of her scalpel in her fingers and reared back on her heel. The high priestess willed the steel instrument to carve a niche in Mavra's forehead as if she were a sacrificial lamb. However, Mavra's constitution was too strong to succumb to despair. Mavra squeezed off another round from her gun before Alzabreah could release her blade.
The blast was right on target, knocking the high priestess backwards with its impact and the knife flew harmlessly into a corner. Paralysis gripped Alzabreah. Her mouth fell slack. Her
eyes froze in shock as she realized a dart-shaped object now protruded from her chest. She toppled backwards onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud. The foul stench of failure had drained all her power to intimidate.
Mavra rose to her feet. She signaled the sisters to back away from the operating tables with her free hand.
After a moments silence, she quietly asked, “Who's going to help me take down the force field?”
In unison, the sisters raised their hands in compliance. However, Mavra could still detect fear in some of their eyes. Although many despised Alzabreah, Mavra knew they did not wish for a violent solution to their problem. Mavra explained she had drugged both shooting victims and that they would soon recover. She also reminded the sisters no dictatorship in the guise of religion would ever be tolerated on the island again.
“When Alzabreah awakens, there will be nothing left in her nature to fear.”
The sisters could hardly fathom what Mavra meant by this statement.
After a minute of awkward silence, Mavra added, “While we're at it, let's take down her damn statue.” The tension finally started to subside. One of the sisters named Elinga let out a small chortle. Mavra suspected this sister had been engaging in an illegal romance with a drone named Sassoy. With her laughter, Elinga had silently confessed to Alzabreah’s definition of sin. Mavra made a silent vow. No person or institution will ever outlaw love again.
* * *
Mavra and the disciples found Doctor Quan in the command center. She had already disabled the force field.
“So you’re on our side?” Mavra asked, her gun trained on Quan.
“Yes, please put the weapon down. I don’t want anyone else to suffer for our arrogance.”
Quan unburdened herself with the admission. “You may punish me. But I respectfully ask you to consider a suggestion.”
Mavra nodded, holstering her gun.
“Let me help repair the damage. I can heal Alzabreah.”
“So you knew Alzabreah had been genetically altered all this time?”
“Yes, I did. It’s why I agreed to continue our work on the island. I had hoped a higher being directed her, but now I see my folly.”
“You not entirely wrong, Doctor. There are beings who live below the surface. They want us to bring your knowledge to the mainland and heal the sick. Will you help me?”
“Of course, I will.”
-Promised Land-
Alzabreah awoke from her operation two days later. She opened her eyes and drank in the beauty of the island from a nearby window. She no longer had any desire to be high priestess. Days later, the Olvidian High Parliament extradited her from the island. She would stand trial for her crimes. Eventually, she would be acquitted of all charges. The court ruled that Alzabreah was no longer the genetically same person who murdered her sister and manipulated the drones.
During the trial, life on the island became relaxed. The period of stress and concern dissipated into thin air like a passing weather system. It gave Mavra time to reflect - time to plan for the drones’ new future.
“I can't believe Caymond felt compelled to risk his life for Alzabreah,” Mavra said to Thorpleen. The pair was seated on a rock overlooking the shoreline.
“I can,” Thorpleen answered without hesitation. “He was designed for this. He had no other choice.”
“That's exactly my point,” Mavra stated flatly. “I can believe he risked his life. But I cannot believe someone would be evil enough to engineer him for that purpose.”
“I would propose that someone designed you for courage, Mavra.”
“Would you believe me if I told you I am a prophet?” Mavra asked Thorpleen. Her eyes remained fixed upon the sea line. She had felt embarrassed by Thorpleen's compliment, but there was no doubt she now possessed a stronger confidence in herself.
“Once again, I remind you I was designed to please you. I will believe anything you say.”
Mavra exhaled a small sigh and extended her hand to Thorpleen. She met his gaze head on. “My work has just begun. My first task is to give you and all the other drones their free will. The gift of genetic re-sequencing was never meant to diminish abilities. I cannot live knowing that you are only by my side because of genetic engineering.”
“I don't think you really believe it's that simple,” Thorpleen answered gently.
Mavra grasped her lover's hand tighter marveling at the reflection of sun light in his eyes.
The operation excited Mavra. Thorpleen would now possess the ability to love her. She knew the gene had been there all along, masked in code. Now he was free thanks to the Enlectites – and maybe he would free her as well, by reciprocating his love for her. Time would tell.
Nevertheless, Mavra never believed she had loved Thorpeen simply because of a genetic disorder. She confirmed this theory when Doctor Quan gave all drones the ability to experience love, along with the capability to learn. Mavra never looked upon another drone the way she did Thorpeen.
The pair spent the next few years traveling the mainland as nomads, running several clinics, and using genetic re-sequencing techniques to heal their Olvidian comrades. Many of the Olvidians they helped never knew their real names. The pair relied solely upon faith to convince the sick they needed their help. Mavra never told anyone of the Enlectites' existence to garner his or her compliance. Eventually, Hox, the King’s Viceroy, changed Olvidian law to give all mainlanders the right to choose their destiny.
“We know some will feel tempted to misuse this science. But in the long run, the benefits of gene therapy should far outweigh the risks.”
Mavra thought she would never hear such compassion from the Olvidian parliament. She could only hope the Olvidians who remained on the home world would eventually benefit from the technology.
Fifteen years passed. The island remains inhabited by Alzabreah and a few devoted disciples. She is no longer known as the high priestess. Alzabreah disbanded the New Order immediately after her surgery, refocusing her efforts on the creation of transgenetic plants. In time, she took Elzeba as her life partner, begging his forgiveness.
A statue stands in the mainland's capital city. The lime-colored sculpture resembles Mavra in her youth. A plaque stands at the foot of the statue with the inscription: ‘The Nurturing Spirit.’ And although the Enlectites gave her the means to become a prophet, Mavra knew deep down that love had given her the strength to heal. It also gave her the strength to stand up and become a whole person - without the need to belittle or control others. For this reason, she would never forget the day Thorpleen had surprised her.
It was a spring day, a few months after they had left the island.
He snuck up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he whispered in her ear.
“Mavra, you know I love you too. I always did.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for what seemed an eternity. Then, Thorpleen laid a very sensuous and very long kiss on the woman he would take as a life partner.
About the Author
Gary Starta
Starta penned Alzabreah’s Garden in response to the recent controversies surrounding cloning and stem cell research.
To contact Starta write to: [email protected]
Visit www.garystarta.net
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