Origin Equation

by Charles F Millhouse

  Hyta’s brow furrowed, and she said, “Clams up?”

  “It’s an old Earth term. It means he won’t tell us what we need to know.”

  “You want to know what I think?”

  Charles’ face went slack, and he said, “I’m afraid I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “Look at yourself. You’ve not shaven in weeks, how anyone can’t grow a full beard in that time is beyond me...”

  Charles touched his face and found patches of inconsistent stubble growing there. He rubbed his tired sore eyes and stared down at Hyta.

  “You haven’t changed your clothes... when’s the last time you’ve gone up to the ship to get a shower and some sleep?”

  “I’ve gone up to Requiem a few times.”

  Hyta’s jaw set, and she said, “Not for at least six weeks. I would have thought you’d at least check on Vincent.”

  Vincent Abernathy was Charles’ best friend and long-time partner of archeology. He was surveying Shin’nor’ee alone when he was attacked by the planet’s defenses. He was incased in a wall of ice, but hadn’t waken when released, and it was worrisome.

  “I’ve been in contact with the doctors, there hasn’t been any change,” Charles said downtrodden.

  “So that’s it then?” Hyta asked. “You’re just going to throw yourself into your work forgetting about your own health in the meantime?”

  “There’s nothing I can do up there in orbit,” Charles barked – his voice echoed inside the ornate chamber. He cleared his throat and lowered the tone of his voice when Hyta chagrined. “Down here, I can be productive. I might learn something we don’t know. Something that will prepare us for the upcoming conflict, before Uklavar reaches Earth.”

  Hyta leaned toward Charles, and said, “You’re working hard to save a bunch of people you care nothing for.”

  “It’s not the rich, or the poor or even the slaves I really care about Hyta. It’s the fact that if Uklavar destroys what remains of the human race, although not the best of what we once were. He will destroy any chance of us ever coming back to greatness.”

  “You really believe humans can achieve greatness again?”

  “I have to... or everything mankind once fought for, died for and lived for – our music, our art, our history will be lost. And that would be an injustice to the galaxy.”

  A thin smile rose on Hyta’s lips and she leaned back in her wheelchair nodding her head in agreement. “You’re formulating a plan in that head of yours, aren’t you?” she asked with reverence in her voice.

  “Earth is a dead planet, we all know that the small amount of people living there will be the last. In another decade no one will be able to live on the planet. We must abandon it and allow it to heal itself.”

  “What are you proposing?” Hyta asked.

  Charles scrolled through his palm device, said, “Remember the cluster of worlds I was telling you about?”

  “The ones even Uklavar doesn’t know anything about?”

  Charles nodded, and said, “We could settle there. Maybe mankind will have a chance to rebuild – have a second chance.”

  Hyta put her hands up in front of her, and she said, “Just think about what you’re saying, Charles. We don’t know a thing about those planets. They could be inhabitable.”

  “They could be, Origin was vague about the details,” Charles replied.

  “He usually is,” Hyta replied.

  “But... what if we go there and find out.”

  “Whoa. A minute ago, you were talking about fighting Uklavar, now you’re talking about trekking off to God knows where to find a system of planets we know nothing about. The problem is here and now.”

  Arms akimbo, Charles said, “I feel so helpless.”

  “You shouldn’t. You’re doing what needs to be done here and now,” Hyta said. “Everyone in this expedition shares your commitment, and I’m fond of your idea of finding a new home, and maybe this cluster of planets is the place.”

  Flustered, Charles repeated Hyta’s words, said, “But the problem is here and now.”

  Absorbed, Hyta replied with a resolute nod.

  Charles dropped his arms to his side. Hyta was right, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He drew a breath, but before he could speak, Hyta said, “Why don’t you go up to Requiem, get a shower, check on Vincent and get some sleep.”

  Haggard, Charles replied with a nod. He faced a conundrum he couldn’t solve, at least not yet. He’d learned a long time ago, that the best way to face an unsolvable problem, was to walk away and the answer would present itself in due course. “You’ll call me if you hear anything from Lady Tannador or her team?”

  Hyta nodded, and said, “They’ve been gone for a month, I doubt we will hear anything in the next several hours. Get some sleep... and take a long, long shower.” She gave a toothy grin.

  Charles looked at his filthy attire, and for the first time noticed the pungent odor coming from him. With a twisted expression, he replied, “I think you’re right.”

  Deep Inside Kepler 369 aka the Planet Shin’nor’ee

  The Expedition of the Lady Da’Mira Tannador

  October 9, 2442 – Earth Time

  “Don’t get too far ahead, Jonna,” Da’Mira Tannador shouted as the young archeologist disappeared through a narrow crevasse. She shined her flashlight beam ahead, but all she saw were shadows and ghost images.

  The six-man expedition, consisting of Da’Mira, Colin McGregor, Jonna Grace, Van Xavier, genealogist Spencer Lawson and historian Navaho Night, entered the underground ravine several weeks ago, following a map provided by Origin. The super computers only reasoning was, it would provide insight into fighting the World Eater, Uklavar. The creature’s name sent cold chills up Da’Mira’s spine. She had looked into the creature’s eyes, heard his demonic voice and trembled at his presence.

  When she took command of the family exploration ship, Requiem, Da’Mira never thought the survival of the human race would rest on her shoulders. She always considered herself the savior of the slaves, the voice of the Low-Born, and a champion against oppression. This race against Uklavar was on a much larger scale, one she was not prepared for. But who really is? She wondered.

  Mankind hadn’t fought a war since the last World War on Earth, two-hundred years ago. Humans had no army, no weapons to battle a being like Uklavar. Reasoning would dictate, the humans of Earth would face the World Eater, and fall before him like a bullied child in a school yard, bloody and broken.

  Am I witnessing the end? Da’Mira mused, but her instincts, the same intuitions for survival that all humans shared sent ripples of dread through her soul.

  “I’ll go find Jonna, Da’Mira,” Van Xavier raced ahead slipping through the same fissure where Jonna vanished a moment ago.

  “Van, no stay here,” Da’Mira called jutting ahead.

  Colin McGregor snagged Da’Mira’s forearm in his hand and tugged her to a stop. “Don’t fret, he’ll be alright.”

  Da’Mira wrenched her arm away from Colin. The blinding beam of his flashlight stung her eyes and she turned away from him. “We don’t know what’s up ahead, they could run into trouble, they could be...”

  “Killed?” Colin said. “Aye, quite possible. But I doubt it – at least not right now.”

  Da’Mira turned back toward the Highlander. The strobe of her torch light caught the glare of his honest eyes. It didn’t take her long upon meeting Colin, to understand that he was a man of battle, and principle. The Highlanders had survived on Earth without help from the High-Born, making a living off the limited resources of the dying planet. “Tell me Mister McGregor, have you always been so...”

  “Realistic?”

  “Would you stop finishing my sentences, please?” Da’Mira asked and called behind her, “Spencer will you go ahead and check on them.”

  “Yes, Milady,” Spencer replied and skirted around Da’Mira and Colin, the light from his torch fading as he passed through the fissure.

/>   “Navaho, stay with us.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Navaho replied, but she kept her distance.

  Da’Mira turned her light ahead, tugged on her backpack and waited.

  “You should stop treating Jonna and Van like children. They’re not you know.”

  “That is your opinion,” Da’Mira replied.

  “It’s a fact the High-Born have forgotten,” Colin schooled Da’Mira. “When we are born on Earth, there is no time to be a child. We understand early on that every day is a struggle, and that everyday could be our last.”

  “Jonna and Van weren’t reared on Earth, they don’t know the dangers that lay ahead. And Van, well he is different.” Da’Mira said and took a half a step toward the fissure. The subterranean tunnel appeared to grow colder with each passing moment.

  Colin smirked, and he said, “He might be a bit slower than the rest of us, but he is braver, and smarter than his brother Gregaor and a damned more trustworthy, too.”

  “What’s taking Spencer so long?” Da’Mira said.

  Colin powered his splinter rifle, said, “They have been gone longer than I would have thought them to be. Let’s go see for ourselves. Follow me.”

  Da’Mira grimaced, drew a tight breath and muscled her way ahead in front of Colin and took point, reminding him, “This is my expedition and those are my people. I’ll lead the way.”

  Colin didn’t offer a reply, but he was heard giving a verbal smirk as he took up position between Da’Mira and Navaho. The ground became slippery underfoot, and the chill grew colder as the three passed through the cleft. There was a narrow path through the rock opening and the ground dropped at a steep incline. Da’Mira’s footing went out from under her and she reached outward, her fingers grabbing air. Colin grabbed her at the scruff of the neck and prevented her from falling.

  “Steady,” Colin warned. “It’s getting steeper ahead.”

  Navaho let out a high-pitched welp, the scuffle of her feet and a grunt followed – Da’Mira didn’t have to turn to realize her historian and the Highlander collided.

  “My pardons,” Navaho said.

  “No apologies necessary, lassie. The ground is treacherous,” Colin replied.

  “It’s beginning to level out, and I see something ahead,” Da’Mira said.

  Seconds later, the narrow path widened into a larger chamber. Spencer lay on the ground with Van and Jonna perched over him.

  “What’s happened?” Da’Mira asked.

  “I think he’s broke his ankle,” Jonna said.

  “I’m sorry Milady, I guess I wasn’t prepared for the steep incline and I lost my footing,” Spencer said.

  Da’Mira brushed Van aside and knelt down next to the genealogist, she felt down his left leg, squeezing until he drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “Yeah, its broken alright,” she said, catching a chill from sitting on the cold damp ground.

  Spencer Lawson was a wiry man, with large hands and long fingers. It looked like a good gust of wind would knock him down. Spencer’s face was lean, with sharp cheekbones. His gray-green eyes were the size of old American silver dollars and his nose regal and bird-like. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “You’re just lucky you didn’t break your skinny neck when you fell,” Colin said with a laugh in his throat.

  Da’Mira shot the Highlander a sharp gaze and the smile on his face vanished. For a moment, only the echo of their breathing filled the cavern – water dripping from stalactites made a faint ricochet off the stone floor.

  “Navaho find something to make a splint out of,” Da’Mira said after a few seconds.

  “There are some extra pick handles in my backpack,” Jonna said. “They will make effective splints.”

  “Here,” Colin said and pulled a scarf from inside his tunic. “Use this to tie them around his leg.”

  Navaho produced a canteen and switched places with Jonna, and said, “Take a drink.” She turned the opening up to Spencer’s mouth and he took a long sip, a thin stream of water ran out the crook of his mouth.

  “Thanks,” Spencer said and relaxed his head back.

  Navaho Night was a lovely woman. Her skin was copper, and her hair like long slick oil. She filled out the tan coveralls she wore in all the right places. A necklace of beads, a product of her native heritage, dangled loosely around her neck and it made a slight clatter when she moved. “Van, can you hold Spencer while I apply the splint?” she asked.

  Da’Mira moved out of Van’s way and joined Colin, who pulled her aside.

  “What do we do now?” Colin asked.

  Annoyed, Da’Mira’s brow furrowed and she replied, “We will rest here awhile, and then we go on.”

  Colin looked over Da’Mira’s shoulder, eyes tight. He lowered his voice and said, “We will be slowed by Spencer’s injury. We should send him back.”

  “We’ve been down here for nearly a month, he’d never make it back on his own,” Da’Mira said. She studied the emotionless flatness of Colin’s face and she drew a cold breath and said, “But you know that.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply–”

  “I know what you’re implying, and I don’t agree with it,” Da’Mira said reminding herself that Colin was necessary, despite his devil may care looks and muscles in all the right places, he was needed because in a war, one needed warriors that have been battle tested. Although his attitude was as rugged as his good looks, Da’Mira was willing to overlook the latter so she might find what’s needed to confront Uklavar.

  “We go on. All of us until we find whatever it is, we’re supposed to be here for,” Da’Mira said sharply.

  “You don’t give up. Do you?” Colin asked.

  “We are here for a reason. Or have you forgotten?” Da’Mira asked, but turned before Colin had time to reply, and told the others, “Get some rest, we will go on in an hour. Spencer, will you be able to make it?”

  “Just try and stop me,” Spencer replied through clenched teeth.

  “You have heart,” Colin said. “Commendable.”

  Da’Mira balled her hands, the sharpness of her fingernails cut into the palms. But before she could turn to throttle Colin, she scanned the area and asked, “Where is Jonna?”

  “She said she was going to have a look ahead, and told me not to say anything,” Van said with worrisome eyes.

  “Oh, Van. You should have stopped her,” Da’Mira said.

  Casting his eyes to the ground, Van replied in a downtrodden voice, “I’m sorry Da’Mira.”

  Da’Mira looked into the darkness ahead and grimaced hoping to see the light of Jonna’s torch.

  “I’ll go look for her,” Colin said.

  “No – she’s my responsibility.”

  “As was my sister’s.”

  Da’Mira swung herself around, said, “That’s not fair.”

  “Maybe not, but it is the truth.”

  Da’Mira had rescued Colin’s sister from a breeding camp on Earth. She named the girl My Own, in place of her real name, since My Own refused to reveal it. When Uklavar escaped, he took My Own as a prisoner. It was for that reason that Colin joined the expedition. It was his only link to saving her.

  Obstinate, Da’Mira said, “I will go look for Jonna and you will stay here.”

  “Why do you feel as though I am challenging your authority?” Colin asked. “I have lived under the sky of a dying planet all my life. I have survived droughts, famine, plague, and the Orlander security forces. You brought me along for that reason. So why don’t you use me?”

  Da’Mira didn’t have time to reply when Jonna appeared from the dark. The young girl’s eyes wide with excitement she jabbed a finger into the tunnel behind her, and said, “You... you have to come see this Da’Mira. I think I found what we are looking for.”

  “Tell us Jonna,” Da’Mira said.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’m not sure I believe it, and I saw it.”

  “Navaho, stay here with Spencer and Van,” Da’Mir
a said. When Navaho tried to protest, Da’Mira told her, “You’ll all get a chance to see whatever it is later. Right now, I’d feel better if none of us were left alone.”

  Colin charged his splinter rifle.

  “You won’t need that big guy,” Jonna said.

  Colin glanced down at his weapon and held it tight against his body.

  “Suit yourself,” Jonna said and motioned for Da’Mira and Colin to follow her.

  The three entered another cavern that wasn’t any different than the previous ones they’d navigated. Stalagmites and stalactites jutted from the floor and ceiling. There was a bitter wetness in the air, and it caked the lungs with every breath. The surface was slimy and keeping a steady footing was a chore with each step. The sound of dripping water pooling on the ground echoed throughout the cavity.

  Then suddenly the cold bitter air became warmer. If Da’Mira didn’t know better, she would have thought it to be the sun peeking through on a cold spring morning. With each passing step, the temperature rose another degree. The surface of the cavern went from slippery wet to bone dry. The further and further they went the warmer it became. Perspiration formed on the skin and then the darkness of the cavern brightened.

  There is light at the end of the tunnel, Da’Mira joked under her breath.

  “First I discovered this,” Jonna exclaimed drawing Da’Mira’s attention.

  There, lying clumped over, were skeletal remains of a human dressed in fragmented clothing, a uniform, Da’Mira surmised. There were no other remains – whoever it was, was alone. Da’Mira’s brow knotted.