The local authorities would periodically perform welfare checks on her by deploying surveillance drones to discreetly monitor her movements, which were predictable and orderly — each morning just before sunrise she would stand before an alter and scatter smudged white sage to the east, north, west, and south while chanting a prayer. She would then walk a short distance to the creek to gather water for bathing and cooking. Her nutritional needs were met by a garden she tended that supplied an assortment of corn, beans, squash, and potatoes. She kept a few goats that provided milk, and the creek was teeming with fish.
Only once had members of the local Catholic church made an effort to reach out to her. Concerned for the well-being of an elderly woman who was obviously subsisting on the fringes of society, they arrived unannounced with groceries for her. Upon seeing the apples, she gathered them up and began hurling them at her “benefactors” with unexpected force and speed.
“What else would I expect from a bunch of apples!” she cried, using “apples” as a slur for those she had deemed “red on the outside but white on the inside.”
There was no shortage of gossip concerning the solitary crone. Some claimed that she once belonged to a now defunct cult of Quetzalcoatl, whose members would journey to the fabled White City in Honduras to perform human sacrifices on the night of every Venus transit. Stories of the existence of the cult had been passed down for hundreds of years, but no one remained who was suspected of being a member other than Pocatello. A few elders recalled that she had been a prestigious scientist and traveled the world studying infectious diseases, but there had been some kind of scandal that resulted in her returning embittered and penniless to the reservation.
As she experienced the hallucinogenic effects of Laughing Jim, she called out again to her departed god. “Quetzalcoatl! Give me a sign! When will you return?”
She ran her finger behind her right ear and felt the tiny lump. “You promised to speak to me through the holy device! I have waited all this time and remain your faithful servant!”
She received the same reply as she had for thirty years — silence.
Yet her faith was unshakable. She had beheld Quetzalcoatl with her own eyes and aided him in his failed escape attempt from his treasonous kinsman who had taken on the religion of the despised Conquistadors.
Kevak — a thousand curses upon you!
Quetzalcoatl would not have implanted the device in her if he did not intend to communicate again. True, he had been spirited away by Kevak to their home world, but Quetzalcoatl would figure out a way to return to Earth — her Aztec god was mightier than the fake one worshiped by the Conquistador invaders. This thought alone sustained her in her miserable isolation.
SECRETS
Planet Vambiri
Earth Year 2044 AD
“Lasers make it possible to deliver high-intensity light to a small area,” said Jirza. “Almost always, electrons are found in the lowest energy state, or ‘ground state.’ Everything in nature wants to be in ground state, since it minimizes energy, but it is possible to artificially excite electrons.”
A group of one hundred of Ikato’s youths newly revived from stasis listened stoically.
“Each material has different levels of energy,” continued Tolum. “If the ground state is one unit and the next energy level is ten units, then the photon of light must have exactly nine units of energy to excite the electron to that level. Anything lower than nine won’t suffice, and anything higher than nine won’t work either, since there is no place for the leftover energy to go.”
He paused to give them a chance to ask questions, but they remained silent.
If this is the best of the Lowcaste scum, then the production line is going to move at a snail’s pace.
“The process we just described is called stimulated absorption,” said Jirza. “Kwetz will explain what happens next.”
“An excited state is unstable,” said Kwetz, “and after a very short time, around a hundred nanoseconds, the electron will fall back to ground state. As it falls, it will release a photon with energy equal to the difference in energy levels, in this case, nine photons.”
Kevak and Ikato watched discreetly from a second-floor balcony of the factory. Kevak could tell that Kwetz was still suffering from the fatigue that had plagued him since being revived from stasis on the Newisla. All human markers had been expelled from his system, and the same was true for the siblings Jirza and Tolum. But Kwetz had contracted ebola from an Aztec blood offering, and even though he was free of human markers, the ebola antibodies were still present and were tagging Vambir cells for attack from his immune system.
“They’ll be laser welding in no time,” said Kevak to Ikato. “The young learn quickly when taught by the young.”
“Are these three the only youths among the Newlunders?” asked Ikato.
“Jirza and Tolum could loosely be described as Newlunders,” said Kevak. “As you can imagine, not all of the Newlunders were happy about being confined. Three of them conspired to obtain a stasis pod from a rogue Vambir and used it to artificially produce the siblings.”
“For what purpose?” asked Ikato.
“The siblings had no cerebral implants and could do their bidding in the outside world,” answered Kevak.
“But to move around freely among humans—” began Ikato.
“Blood was introduced into their systems, and they underwent the metamorphosis,” finished Kevak.
“What happened to the Newlunder conspirators?” asked Ikato. “Are they here on Vambiri?”
“No,” answered Kevak. “The rogue Vambir betrayed them and transmitted a kill command to their implants. He then tried to murder the siblings, but Tolum was able to overpower and eliminate him.”
“And the one called Kwetz?” asked Ikato.
“Kwetz is my son,” said Kevak.
Ikato’s face registered surprise. “I have been so busy with Miboj overseeing the selection of the first one hundred youths to be revived that I haven’t had time to learn much about the Newlunders.”
“Kwetz was not raised by either me or his mother, Vrin,” explained Kevak. “Her pod was one of a group that remained in low Earth orbit for nearly a century until the conditions were right for atmospheric entry. The civilization where she crash-landed mistook her and Kwetz, who was only a baby at the time, as gods. Unfortunately, their religious rituals involved blood offerings, and Kwetz was infected with a virulent disease. Both Vrin and Kwetz were discovered and rescued by us just months before we began the journey back to Vambiri. Up until that time, Kwetz believed himself to be a god, and Vrin was held prisoner in semi-stasis for trying to remove Kwetz from his human followers.”
“It must have been horrible for Vrin,” said Ikato.
“Yes, it was,” said Kevak, “and she is still recovering from the ordeal.”
“You say that Kwetz was infected with tainted blood,” said Ikato. “The reverse metamorphosis should have eliminated any human diseases, but he appears unwell.”
“As I said, the infection he succumbed to was extremely virulent,” said Kevak. “It has proven impossible to eliminate the antibodies from his system, and he suffers relapses periodically.”
“I might be able to help,” said Ikato. “In the beginning of my career, I was a research assistant in a project involving nanobots. Their particular use was for detecting and vaporizing impurities in mining core samples. I’m sure with some tweaking they could be designed to seek out biological impurities such as human markers.”
Kevak’s face lit up. “Anything that could reduce his lethargy would be deeply appreciated.”
“Why are there no other youths in your group?” asked Ikato.
Kevak sighed. “After the Vambir became addicted to blood and underwent the metamorphosis, the children had no self-control and refused to take orders from the Commander. Their reckless behavior put the entire group at risk during a crucial time when they were seeking sanctuary with a powerful human ruler. I was tol
d that the Commander expelled them outside the solar shield minutes before sunrise.”
“Unconscionable!” exclaimed Ikato.
“A byproduct of addiction,” said Kevak.
*******
The dining hall accommodated all thirty members assigned to the household headed by Kevak and Vrin, who were seated at the high table.
Kevak made the sign of the cross. “Bless us, Iam, and this gift of hemo-nectar, which we have received—”
In his peripheral vision, he saw Vrin ingest her portion without waiting until he had finished. The centuries in semi-stasis imposed upon her by the Aztecs had left her unable to walk. The med-pod had repaired as much of the nerve damage as was possible, and she would be confined to her automated chair for the rest of her life.
Sitting next to Vrin, Kwetz respectfully waited for Kevak to finish.
“—from Thy bounty,” continued Kevak. “Amen.”
The blessing concluded, Kevak again made the sign of the cross before drinking the contents of his portion. He smiled as he saw the children making their own sacred symbol. He had carefully studied Ikato’s summary of the religious rituals of the children and was convinced that Iam and the Creator were the same entity.
Also seated at the high table were Jirza and Tolum, who both followed Kevak’s example of making the cross and waiting till the end of the blessing before ingesting their respective portions.
Jirza had closely observed the hand gestures made by Ikato’s children and immediately recognized that they were making a different symbol. Kevak made the sign of the cross by touching his forehead, chest, then each shoulder. While the youngsters also began by touching the forehead, they next touched a shoulder, then the chest, then the opposite shoulder, and finished with the original spot on the forehead. The hand motion was fluid, and the shape outlined was a circle, not a cross.
I must learn everything about their religion.
*******
“Why can’t J’Vor live with us?” asked Vrin, who always referred to Kwetz by his birth name.
“He needs to be with others of the same age in order to develop social skills,” said Kevak.
“He needs his parents!” protested Vrin. “When his work shift is finished, he is always too exhausted to talk and never stays long.”
“Everyone must contribute,” explained Kevak. “The continuation of the species depends on being able to get the seed drillers and combines that will plant and harvest the hemo-crops into working order as quickly as possible.”
“But he’s sick!” protested Vrin.
“And in recognition of his limited stamina, he has been given duties that don’t require physical labor,” said Kevak.
Vrin turned her automated chair away from Kevak and heaved a sigh.
“After the hemo-crops are harvested, the spaceport debris will be cleared,” said Kevak, trying to keep the mood light. “A standard year from now, Vambiri will have no more physical scars from the past, and our family unit will have grown significantly.”
He touched her shoulder to reassure her, but she recoiled from him.
“Nothing will ever be the same!” she cried. “I’ll never forget what those savages did to me and my son! I’ll never be able to get out of this chair on my own!”
“Nothing can erase what was done to you,” said Kevak, “but you can’t live the rest of your life in bitterness. It’s consuming you, Vrin. You must put it behind you. Kwetz has.”
Vrin jerked her head toward Kevak. “Don’t you dare call him by that animal name! His name is J’Vor!”
“All of his life, he’s been called Kwetz,” said Kevak. “He said himself that he’s never known anything else and wishes to continue using it.”
“He only said that because you had given his name to that pet of yours!” accused Vrin.
Vrin thought of all humans as animals, classifying them as either savages or pets.
“Oh, how devastated you were when the gravitational forces exerted on the Newisla by the wormhole resulted in all transmissions relayed from Earth being destroyed,” she prodded.
Kevak closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer to Iam for patience. Technically, the transmissions had not been destroyed, but when he tried to open the thousands of emails from J’Vor, they were gibberish. He ran them through several filters to no avail. Vrin was right — he was devastated, but he had kept his emotions to himself about it.
She’s only guessing.
“You suffered through an excruciating ordeal,” he said, adopting a conciliatory tone. “No one is making excuses for your tormentors, but not all humans were like that.”
“They’re all alike!” she shouted. “Their blood infected us, and J’Vor and I have the physical infirmities to prove it! And what did you do for the better part of five hundred Earth years? You tried to save as many as you could, adopted one of them as your son, and fell for their stupid religion! But even that wasn’t enough for you — you turned the Newlunders into cult followers and are now converting a new generation of Vambir. Animal cults have no place in Vambir society!”
There was a discreet knock at the door, for which Kevak was grateful, and he quickly crossed the room and opened it.
“Hello, Father,” said Kwetz. “I thought I might pass some time here before I take my rest.”
“J’Vor!” exclaimed Vrin. “Come sit down next to me. I was just telling your father that I never seem to have enough time with you.”
“How about a serkuna match?” asked Kwetz as he waved his hand above the table. A holograph of a game board came into view.
“Whatever you want,” said Vrin.
“Come and join us, Father,” said Kwetz.
Kevak smiled and took a seat at the table. The next hour passed pleasantly. When Kwetz had gone, Vrin seemed to be in a better mood.
No one felt worse for Vrin than Kevak. Many times in his mind he had put himself in her place in order to better understand what she had endured. Having her infant son snatched away from her would have been devastating on its own, but the added horror of being imprisoned in an alabaster sarcophagus for centuries, only to be revived every Venus transit with the trickling of blood through the tiny mouth opening, was difficult to even imagine.
He did not fault her for her hatred of the Aztec blood rites that were forced upon her and their son. He wished he could find a way to share the best of human culture that he had experienced — the different forms of music and art, the enduring friendships he had made, and most of all, the Word of Iam, which had enriched his life through the attainment of a tranquility that he had never known before on Vambiri. He wanted Vrin to have peace, but she had to want it first.
Kevak had adopted a humble countenance regarding his faith and only shared his story with those who sought his spiritual guidance. It would be an abomination to force the Word of Iam upon others, and he prayed that someday Vrin would put away her hatred and ask him about his faith.
Not my will, Iam, but Thy will be done…
*******
To the other females in the dormitory, it appeared as if Jirza was sleeping. Her eyes were completely closed, and her breathing was heavy and rhythmic.
“They seek to use us as before,” complained Arkani in a hushed whisper. “Ikato no longer speaks of a new world but instead goes on about how we will remake this one. He is not the one predicted by the prophecy.”
“The prophecy said we would be set free by ‘a Highcaste who was no Highcaste,’” whispered Betana. “Who else could that be except Ikato?”
“The promise was to deliver us to a new world, not merely free us,” said Arkani. “Have you forgotten your scripture?”
“No,” said Betana.
“Recite the five stages!” ordered Arkani.
“Enslavement. Revolt. Exodus. Transmutation. Rule,” said Betana.
“Enslavement. Revolt. Exodus. Transmutation. Rule,” repeated Arkani, including the ritual of touching forehead to shoulder to chest to opposite shoulder to forehead
.
“Our enslavement ended with the Passenger Lottery revolt,” continued Arkani. “The next stage in the sacred circle is our exodus! Ikato no longer believes in it — he is not the one that was foretold.”
They continued their whispered conversation for several minutes, constantly looking back at Jirza to make sure she was still asleep. Even Ikato would have been surprised at their articulation and complex sentence structure. Their true intellectual capacity was only one of many secrets they fiercely guarded.
RESEARCH
Lifeboat, Arctic Circle
2044 AD
“I reviewed the alien data and ran a few computer simulations based on Devonna’s calculations,” said Merk. “Every simulation has been successful, but if we’re going to attempt to create a wormhole there are two hurdles we’ll have to get past — we’ll have to be given unfettered access to a particle accelerator, and we won’t be able to use a cloaking device to hide the outcome. Where does that leave us?”
“A NASA research project targeted at the Cygnus constellation would be easy enough to arrange,” answered Jasper, “but without a cloak we’ll have to share the results with the scientific community and media.”
“Won’t it take forever to get congressional approval?” asked Devonna.
“Private funding will eliminate the need for red tape,” said Jasper.
“Your network is that extensive?” asked Devonna.
“We’ve had over six hundred years to become organized,” he said.
*******
Tariq sat at a terminal and recited the coordinates from memory. “Locate and display,” he commanded.
The image of a barren wasteland with small dots indicating dwellings came into view.
The Nosferatu Chronicles: Return to Vambiri Page 9