Star Gods: Book Four of Seeds of a Fallen Empire

by Anne Spackman

  Lierva hesitated a moment before answering. “I always cared for Celekar, but Hinev was so different, I was in rapture… I loved what he valued, what he could do, I suppose.”

  Lierva sighed. “He seemed to know so much more of the answers to life’s mysteries than I did. I didn’t realize until recently that there is a another kind of love. The love of one who is kind, and caring. Someone who makes us happy."

  “Celekar?”

  “Celekar.”

  Alessia was silent a long time after Lierva left her.

  Alessia knew at once that she already loved Fielikor Kiel this way.

  * * * * *

  The view from the edge of the galaxy was unparalleled.

  Beyond their galaxy, other galaxies in the Great Cluster beckoned, but the explorer team had reached the end of their journey and now prepared to return to their own world. Their own galaxy filled the sky with bright jewels, but this beauty was misleading. Among the radiant violet clouds and shining pinpoints of light, a thousand perils lay–the black hole singularities, gravity fluctuations, runaway stars and cold, dark matter.

  They had traveled more than twice the distance of Kudenka’s explorers. Yet after hundreds of years of effort, they hadn’t yet successfully tamed the string singularity entirely, nor its space-tearing engine. Nevertheless, Gerryls hoped to try the space-tearing engine again, plotting their return course above the galactic plane, which might allow them to pass unhindered through a great tract of space instantaneously. From their arrival point, it could be a relatively short journey down through the stellar anomalies to Seynorynael if they maximized the use of the engines.

  As anxious as they all were to return again to Seynorynael, they had not seen enough of the unknown. That didn’t matter. It was time to go home. Their mission directive had pre-determined the time frame in which they were to return to Seynorynael.

  Chapter Nine

  “So, what did they say?” Kellar demanded when Kiel returned after his meeting with the Elder Council and the chief Federation Scientific Committee. The other explorers lounged in the quarters allocated them upon their return, but now drew around their leader anxiously for news. Only Kiel had been granted clearance to leave the ship; the rest of them still remained grounded at the small astroport outside Ariyalsynai where Selesta had been directed to land. They had yet to receive orders to leave though two tendays had passed.

  Two long tendays with little to do but wait. The explorers soon learned about the planet with their telepathic abilities, and how it had changed.

  The day they returned home, Gerryls, efficient as always, had immediately sent copies of their findings and ship log by courier to all of the Federation Council Members, in order that the documentation could not be tampered with or stolen by unauthorized parties over the computer grid network.

  Five days ago, Kiel had been summoned to meetings in Ariyalsynai after the Feiari talks, where he was to be called upon to explain the compiled report and listen to the Elders' concerns, a report Gerryls, Kiel, Alessia, In-nekel, Wen-eil, Mindra, and Vala had compiled during the last leg of the mission. In it they had presented the genetic evidence of one thousand species of humanoids and quasi-humanoids, evidence which just happened to support Hinev’s First Race Theory.

  After five days, Kiel had only just now returned.

  “They won’t accept our evidence that supports a “first race” in any way,” Kiel explained tiredly, dropping his belongings on a high-backed, plush black chair.

  “I don’t understand you, Kiel. Are you talking about the Federation scientists?” Gerryls asked, one eyebrow raised. “What don’t they like about it?”

  “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, old friend,” Kiel said, shaking his head, regarding the older man soberly. “But I’m afraid they just don’t accept anything we discovered as scientific fact—they’re going to re-analyze all of the specimens we collected.”

  “But the reports are all accurate,” Vala protested.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Kiel shrugged. “They think we’ve fabricated propaganda. Evidence can so easily be forged–they aren’t wrong about that. They think we’ve been trying to prove Hinev's First Race Theory.” He laughed. “Because we’re biased, you see. We were created by him, trained by him—well of course, we’d fabricate lies to support his ideas!”

  “Why of course would anyone think that we kept impartiality and just did our honorable duty in collecting and analyzing specimens we collected?” He looked to the viewport, to Ariyalsynai’s astroport beyond, where flotillas of exotic ships from the expanded Federation sped by, many of whose civilizations they had invited to Seynorynael in the early days of the explorers’ journey.

  “How can the scientists accept all of these alien civilizations and not see that there has to be an explanation for the common humanoid ancestry?” Kellar demanded, amazed at the closed-mindedness that Kiel had encountered in the scientific community.

  “The Federation–I should say the Seynorynaelian Council has the scientists by the throat, I believe,” Kiel replied quietly. “Whether or not they’ll admit it. They’ve all been brainwashed to believe that the First Race Theory is impossible. If you ask me, the Federation scientists, as brilliant as they might be on every other issue,” he added, quickly, with a sharp look at Gerryls, “spend far more energy dancing in circles over this one, trying to scientifically disprove what they should know has merit on its side.” He sighed.

  “Are all those ships merchant ships?” Ioka wondered, her attention drawn away by the view.

  “Yes, and you know they’ve got copies of our tachiyon engines bringing them here.” Gerryls smiled as though at an idea he enjoyed.

  “How many luxury goods does Ariyalsynai need to have?” Celekar threw out, glancing about the room with eyes that found nothing to his liking. Everything has changed so much.

  “It’s strange when you think back to all of the worlds we went to,” Kellar said, shaking his head, knowing that Celekar was only venting. “How we gave them a beacon to use our centipede holes to come here, and now they’re firmly established as part of the Federation.”

  “And more strange when you consider that they’ve been taken over—and kept silent,” Kiel added. “They’re so desperate to catch up with us or keep our favor that they’ll believe anything we tell them about their origins and about ours. They’ll even believe in the Law of Independent Evolution. Or maybe it just doesn’t matter to some races. Some of them believe life is miraculous, and that the Creator is responsible for the races being similar. That the creator willed us to be compatible. Who can argue with that?”

  “And a lot of groups know to be quiet so that they can glean the spoils from the merchants and new aliens.” Talden said, but not with malice. “Don’t blame them, Kiel, for wanting to keep themselves safe, and fed.”

  “I don’t,” Kiel said. I blame our council.

  You’d better not say that out loud, Gerryls advised kindly.

  “Parallel evolution and convergence do appear to exist, sometimes,” Vala said judiciously, nodding. “Therefore, since it is scientifically possible, is it any wonder most people chose to believe what would suit them best?”

  “No,” Kiel sighed. No wonder at all, when the Seynorynaelian Council can forge any evidence they like and threaten any one who disagrees with them.

  “Yes, the Law of Independent Evolution is wrong, and to believe it,” Vala said, “you’d have to believe that evolution is going to guide every single planet to the same end results, the same form and features, even though every planet is as different as sherin trees and urbin roots.”

  “That’s true,” Kiel said. “But the Federation Scientific Committee still thinks we’re just trying to vindicate Hinev, that we’re trying to deceive them. I think it’s going to take some time to get them to listen to us.”

  “They won’t, though
,” Gerryls interrupted. “If they decide to change their minds, they won’t give us credit for it.”

  “No, they probably won’t,” Kiel laughed.

  * * * * *

  Time passed; the explorers kept to their quarters for half a year.

  Then, finally orders arrived for them to unload their specimens and experiments for unbiased Federation scientists to peruse. It had been decided that they be posted at the nearby Scientific Center during the day, where they could illustrate their findings for objective study, on the condition that they didn’t interfere with the Federation’s scientists.

  Marankeil refused them permission to mingle with the population at large; the explorers decided to do as he requested, in the event that their disobedience kept the Federation scientists from making a fair appraisal of their specimens, specimens taken from those many worlds still too underdeveloped to have been invited to join the Federation and too unprofitable to draw them any attention.

  The explorers didn’t mind the isolation as much as they would have in earlier days; three thousand years had passed since they left Seynorynael.

  The world was no longer the same at all, and there was no news of what had happened to Hinev.

  * * * * *

  Kiel, Kellar, Alessia, Vala, and Gerryls were called to attend another meeting after nearly a full year. It became clear that some of the Federation scientists had changed their views and were now convinced from a thorough review of the new evidence that Hinev's old theory really did have some merit after all.

  The news brought no satisfaction to his explorers; they knew enough to question why the scientists’ views had changed.

  At the same time, some of the oldest scientists privately held on to their belief that Seynorynaelian life had evolved by itself, faster than any other race because of the intense radiation of a blue-white star, a radiation that sped up mutations, adaptation, evolution itself. Their city Ariyalsynai was known to have flourished for at least twenty thousand years on record, though the young star Valeria had only burned thirty thousand years. Didn’t that mean that their people had necessarily developed faster than any one else?

  And if their people and the other humanoids had been part of a universal "first race"–why wasn't there any similarity in their cultures and languages? Why no evidence anywhere of any great spaceships left behind on all these supposed brother planets if the first race had gone to live there? The entire idea was as ridiculous as tales of the Comet Riders!

  And since those tales were apparently what the explorers were re-inventing, why hadn't there been more than one ruined starship on Seynorynael as opposed to the two separated groups of wayfarers in the legend?

  Last of all, no first race could have survived the crash that had left the original Selesta but pieces of scrap metal!

  On the surface, those who disbelieved said nothing, all but a few intractable adherents who didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut.

  Their opinions no longer mattered. Marankeil’s Council had decided that the first race had existed after all, that it had radiated to all humanoid systems.

  Those who didn’t agree would find themselves in the minority, and Marankeil would simply wait.

  He would wait until they died, and replace them with scientists who saw it his way.

  * * * * *

  “What in blazes is this?” Alessia scrutinized the transmission printout she held in her hands, confused. She squeezed the document more tightly.

  A tenday after the last meeting, geneticists from a thousand worlds had been reconsidering the First Race Theory and had decided to call it Hinev’s First Race Law.

  All over the city, people were talking now.

  Some now said that the original intergalactic humanoid race, the first race was three million years old. The Seynorynaelian form had diverged from the first about one million years ago. As Alessia glanced at their report, she felt her features pull into a frown; the explorers’ calculations hadn't yielded these numbers.

  No matter.

  Marankeil had the entire city believing what he wanted. Rumors spread on the wind, settling over the land, seeping in to the thirsty consciousness of all who wanted answers to the unknown.

  The Seynorynaelian race had been the civilization that seeded the galaxies!

  They, they were the first race!!!

  And they were going to let everyone else in the galaxy know it.

  * * * * *

  “I still don’t see why the devil they’re sending us beyond the Great Cluster,” Kellar said, with a hint of frustration to the explorers on the bridge as they made a few final adjustments to the computers and navigational equipment; Kiel sat reviewing the new mission guideline.

  What exactly do they want us to do? Onracey wondered out loud.

  “Move a few natural centipede holes closer to the inhabitable planetary systems we encountered. Then we’ll to continue to the edge of our galaxy, into the fringes of the Great Cluster and beyond.” Kiel replied, not even glancing up from reading a file at his command chair.

  “No report yet on Hinev?” Kellar asked; Kiel stopped reading altogether.

  “He’s in Ariyalsynai, I understand, but I wasn’t permitted to see him.”

  “How is he doing, do you know?” Kellar wondered.

  All eyes turned to Kiel.

  “I sensed that he remains isolated. He won’t support the Elders' plans for us. It is also said–also said that he regrets his actions. That he lives a strange life, with his mind always bent upon the past.”

  Alessia shivered. Dear Hinev! Would Hinev have told his explorers the truth of their own abilities? Or–did he know something that the Council didn’t want the explorers to know? Was that why he was forced to remain isolated? Or perhaps Marankeil feared that like so many of the failed candidates, the explorers would fall to the temptation of their own power and use it, that they would use it against him. Perhaps he held on to Hinev, their creator, to keep them in line and force their hands.

  “Well, if we’re going to leave in fewer than two tendays, they’ll have to begin to transfer supplies soon.” Gerryls said slowly. “I wonder why the Council is in such a hurry to get rid of us?”

  “I don’t know,” Kiel admitted, his eyes aglow with calculation. “The worst thing about this mission is the feeling that we’re being sent away because we’re in the way here, now.”

  “You said it,” Celekar added with conviction.

  “Strange isn’t it?” Talden said, looking out the viewport. “We’re like relics that don’t belong in a new age.”

  “But why leave the Great Cluster?” Gerryls wondered. “Granted, we may have no choice as far as the centipede hole destinations. But if we can learn to guide them, why bother with the limitations of the tachiyon engines in real space? We’ll probably need them if we’re forced to find the small galaxy group he has planned for us to visit at the end of our journey, but–I can’t see why we’ve been ordered to go there. It’s too far away. Too far, when there are other, larger clusters nearby.”

  “I agree.” Kiel admitted. “And the Federation Council also rejected the idea of going there, but Marankeil was insistent.” Kiel commented, thoughtful.

  “How did you learn of this?” Gerryls demanded. “Certainly the Council didn’t invite you in to their meeting?”

  “No, of course not. I ran into Ornenkai outside the Council Building after the meeting.” Kiel replied. “As a clone! I almost didn’t recognize him. It seems only his machine entity now remains in the Council Building.”

  “Ornenkai. What is he doing? We haven’t seen him at all,” Kellar wondered.

  “I understand that he now lives at the Seynorynaelian arboretum museum.” Kiel said with a noncommittal shrug. “He had hopes of visiting Selesta, but he says Marankeil won’t permit any contact between our crew and the councilors outside t
he meetings, and even he can’t get in, not without the proper authorization codes. It turns out–Ornenkai protested against our captivity, but he’s the only one who did. The others go along with Marankeil's decisions, since they don’t wish to see us, anyway.”

  “Any reason for our isolation?” Celekar asked, irritated.

  “Ornenkai feels that Marankeil is afraid we’ll try to influence the people. He doesn’t even know what we’d say, and yet he’s not taking any chances.”

  “Why should he care?” Lierva wondered, equally irritated.

  “I don’t know. What does he think we’ll try to do–overthrow the Council and set ourselves up as rulers?!” Kiel laughed.

  “Perhaps just that,” said Gerryls.

  “Well, I’m getting fed up with Seynorynaelian politics.” Lierva said. “This mission is the best news I’ve heard since we came home.”

  * * * * *

  Some time later, Selesta stirred from the air field outside Ariyalsynai and launched into the sky.

  Gathered among the others in the observation window, Alessia watched Seynorynael fade again into the infinity of enveloping space. Onracey, Derstan, and Lierva stood around her, the four of them wishing silent farewells to their home world, wondering if they would ever see her again.

  At Lierva's insistence, Alessia had sought permission to transfer to the primary scout team and out of the biological specialists' division. Gerryls had asked her to reconsider the transfer, but Alessia knew he didn't really need her. He could always call on her aid in the planetary analyses if he needed it.

  Kiel found the group at the observation window an hour after the launch.

  "Permission to join scout team granted, bio-specialist Zadúmchov." He said, drawing a few surprised looks from other explorers nearby.

  "Did he call you Zadúmchov?" Broah echoed as she and Ioka approached.

  "Why are you calling me–who told you I was–that isn’t my name," Alessia protested, keeping her thoughts hidden as the others drew around them. She saw what Kiel and the others thought about the idea. Marshall Zadúmchov and his father before him had been the Council's chief officers in their generation's time as part of the continuing hereditary line of Zadúmchovs. Only a Zadúmchov could claim the position of “The Great Coordinator of the Expansion”, a title bestowed on the family by Elder Marankeil himself more than two thousand years before Alessia’s birth.