Origin Equation

by Charles F Millhouse

  “What do you have Spence?” Charles asked when he approached with Jonna in tow.

  “I’ve been taking samples of the rock in the cave and compared them to the samples I took on the surface,” Spencer said. “Carbon dating from my analysis of the surface rock indicates the planet is somewhere between seven and eight thousand years old.”

  “So, a young planet,” Charles said.

  “Compared to every other planet we’ve ever visited, this world is still in diapers,” Spencer said.

  “I hear a but in there,” Charles said.

  “The carbon dating I’ve done on the rocks down here in the cave tell a different story.”

  “And...?”

  “And, they are much younger. Somewhere in the neighborhood of three to five thousand years.”

  Charles shot a look at Jonna who offered a simple smile, her eyes sparkled.

  “If the planet formed around the Cosmos shouldn’t they be older, assuming the world built itself outward.”

  “In theory, yes,” Spencer replied with a jubilant tone. “But laws of physics don’t seem to apply here.”

  “So, what are you telling me?” Charles asked.

  “Wait,” Spencer said throwing an index finger in the air. “There’s more.” He paused, as if an actor playing a scene.

  “Spence...”

  Spencer picked up another rock sample and placed it in front of Charles and said, “I took this sample at the threshold of the Cosmos chamber and after running a sample, I determined it to be five hundred years old.”

  “Five hundred...”

  Again, Spencer threw an index finger in the air and said, “About an hour after I took the sample, I ran the same carbon dating test on the rock, and it aged two thousand years within that hour.”

  Charles rubbed his chin and face, and said, “The Cosmos is emitting a temporal field. Which means...”

  “It’s time traveling right now as we speak,” Spencer said.

  “If that’s the case, time passing in the ship could only be a few years old,” Charles said.

  Spencer’s face brightened like a light bulb, and he exclaimed, “If my calculations are correct, inside the ship, it might be weeks since it launched from Earth.”

  “What of the crew?” Charles asked.

  Spencer shrugged his shoulders.

  Charles turned to Jonna, and said, “Your turn.”

  “My turn?” Jonna asked.

  Charles jabbed a finger toward Jonna and said, “The Origin computer might have the luxury of giving me half details. You do not. I need to know what is going on. You presumably have the combined knowledge of the Cosmea, or at the very least that of Azalum. You will tell what you know, and you’ll tell me now, or you can go back to the surface team with Hyta and we’ll figure this out on our own.”

  Jonna fumbled with the staff in her hand. For a moment Charles saw the naivety of his young apprentice showing through her confidence. He hated to pressure her, but even though time on Shin’nor’ee was in flux, that wasn’t the case in the rest of the universe. They needed a weapon, to fight the beast before he could find and free his army.

  “I am but a shadowy reflection of what the Cosmea once were,” Jonna said. “This gift wasn’t supposed to be mine, and I’m struggling to understand what it all means.”

  Lightening his words, Charles said, “Do your best.”

  “The Cosmea all died in the war with Uklavar. In their last attempt to thwart the horned beast, they transferred their dying power to their most gifted necromancer, Azalum. It was she who trapped the beast’s army in a time eddy and she who imprisoned Uklavar here on Shin’nor’ee.”

  “Until we came along.”

  “Spence, shush,” Charles snapped.

  “I’m sorry, all the information floating around in my head is a jumble, it comes to me in spurts. Some of it I can make sense of, and others I can’t.”

  “Here’s something we can make sense of,” Navaho Night said when she approached. “I was able to activate the ancient device that was found with the skeleton and the flag containing the Z symbol.”

  Charles put a hand up, and said, “You were able to activate it? How is that possible?”

  “The remains are close to the Cosmos chamber,” Navaho said. “Like the rocks Spencer dated, the device was less than three hundred years old. With some work, I was able to power it up, but I’m not sure how long it will hold a charge, or work for that matter.”

  “And you were able to read what was on it?” Spencer asked.

  “It’s in a rough form of English, almost Germanic. It took me a few tries to understand the meanings of the words. Seems some of the simple phrases we take for granted have different meanings, but I think I understand enough.”

  “Enough?” Jonna asked.

  “Enough to make my skin crawl, yeah,” Navaho said.

  “Read it,” Charles said.

  Navaho picked up the device, she cleared the nervousness from her voice and said, “This was written by a man named Assol, from what I gathered he was fifty-three when he died. He had a family who was killed ten years prior to his last entry on a planet called Evicnor. Seems Uklavar sent his army there to sterilize the planet in fire and fury.

  Navaho began to read:

  My regiment was killed in the first attack against the horned beast. How I survived, was an act of Mon’nototh himself. I watched thirty thousand Temporal Knights fall in battle before the Cosmea necromancer arrived. She wept among the fallen and was surprised to find me still holding our banner off the ground. She instructed me to find this place, that it would comfort me.

  As I made my way across the battlefield, I heard the necromancer and the beast locked in fierce combat. The sky lit up with the power of ten suns. How I survived to make it down here I do not know. Even when I reached safety underground, the ground shook with a ferocity that cannot be explained.

  As I lie here, my moments are numbered, but I die knowing that we, the Temporal Knights achieved our goal and prevented the onslaught of the beast – his army defeated. I pray to Mon’nototh that it will never rise again. Praise Mon’nototh.

  “His journal stops there,” Navaho said in a somber, reflecting tone.

  After a long moment of silence, Charles cleared his throat and said, “Navaho, I want you to study that journal again. Absorb everything you can from what he wrote. Right now, it’s our only connection to the past. Maybe there is something in a past entry that might help us figure out where Uklavar’s army is.”

  “You don’t think I’m reliable, do you?”

  Charles narrowed his eyes on Jonna, and said, “You’re still trying to understand what happened to you. Until then, we do our jobs as archeologists and rely on our training and what resources we have on hand.”

  Jonna’s jaw tightened, her eyes flared, and she asked, “I suppose you want me to stay out of the way.”

  Charles eyed the others around Spencer’s work area, none of them made eye contact with him. “Can you all give us a moment please,” he said in a level tone.

  When the group moved away, Charles took half a step closer to Jonna and lowered the level of his voice, said, “Jonna, you’re my apprentice despite what has happened to you. You’ve been trained to use every tool at your disposal.”

  “That’s just it, Professor. I’m not even remotely sure what has happened to me. I can see things when I close my eyes. Faces, places... it’s all a jumble as if I should know what I’m seeing. Deciphering it is...”

  “Is your number one priority,” Charles told her. “I ask everyone in my expedition team to use what they have at hand that best helps them do their job. Whatever has happened to you should be used as a gift, not a curse.”

  Water welled in the bottom of Jonna’s eyes. With all things considered. She was still a young girl and as a young girl it was hard for her to absorb everything that happened. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder and tightened it. “You alright?”

  “What if this ch
anges me, Professor? What if the memories and the experiences of generations of Cosmea become overwhelming, and who I am is lost to them?”

  Charles drew a breath, but before he could give her the standard rhetoric of, that’s not going to happen. Jonna pulled away from him.

  “You don’t know what it’s like,” Jonna blurted out, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “You don’t know what I see and what I hear when I close my eyes. I haven’t slept since being infected with... with whatever has happened to me. I don’t understand.”

  “Let me... let us try and help you to understand,” Charles said.

  Jonna’s eyes hardened. The tears had dried up, her mouth formed into a thin little line and she said, “I’m not sure you can, Professor.”

  Charles reasserted himself and again took a half step closer to Jonna, and said, “I’m sure as hell going to try.” He cleared his throat and added weight to his voice and said, “I’m not going to pretend that what has happened to you doesn’t intrigue me, because it does. We need to exploit it to its full potential. A great many lives are at risk if we don’t try. But, with that being said, I’m not going to risk your humanity in the attempt.”

  “Thank you for your honesty,” Jonna replied. Though by her expression, it didn’t calm her any.

  Charles eyed the room. His entire crew had stopped their work, all of them concerned for Jonna’s welfare. He marshaled his thoughts and said, “Alright, everyone back to work. Answers won’t present themselves unless we go look for them.”

  “What about me?” Jonna asked.

  “You and I are going to figure out how to get on the Cosmos. I’ll bet my reputation as a scientist that the answers we need to help you are on that ship. And I damn well intend on finding them.”

  Watchtower, Home of the Family Lexor

  High Earth Orbit

  The Union Council Chamber

  October 20, 2442

  Tension hung on the air when Quinton entered the Union chamber with Martin and Carmela Anders. They had been searched at the docking bay for weapons before being allowed access to the rest of the orbital platform. Still Quinton’s security commander was highly scrutinized by each of the Union members when they entered. Even if Martin wasn’t armed, he was a formidable presence, which Quinton liked. He hoped it concerned the members just enough to keep them focused on Martin instead of what surprises he had in store for the council.

  Dagger stares cut into Quinton as he passed the long meeting table. He stopped at his seat and regarded it with reverence. The last person to sit in the chair was his father. It gave him a moment to reflect, but not long enough to make him forget where he was and who was there with him.

  Quinton pulled out the chair and sat down. He received a glib smile from Lucinda Xavier and an even harsher glare from Gregaor when he pulled up to the table and offered them a noncommittal nod.

  “I find it interesting that you would bring your father’s security officer with you,” Havashaw Orlander said from across the table. “When we haven’t given you reason to do so.”

  Quinton looked down the table and into Havashaw’s steel blue eyes. Without a blink he replied, “Considering the last time there was a meeting you shot up the place, I’d say there was reason.”

  “He’s right,” Jackman Pike said in his high-pitched voice. He drew his jade eyes to Quinton and said, “That’s why we were all searched before coming here. There is no reason for your guard.”

  “It’s time we restore confidence in the Union, if we hope to maintain order throughout the Low-Born platforms,” Warner Cromwell said. “Showing that you intend to work as part of this union will replace our faith in House Tannador.”

  “It is my intent, I assure you all,” Quinton said.

  “Then prove it,” Warner said leaning forward. “Send your officer out of the room.”

  Brandon Hyguard rose from his chair, leaning forward on the flats of his hands he spoke in a callous voice, and said, “At one time none of the Houses were allowed a security force, just those maintaining security on the respected platforms. This must be re-established.”

  “Considering the Orlanders have been its own army since the beginning of the Union, I’d say your point is mute,” Warner Cromwell said.

  “We were given the duty of security to protect the breeding facilities,” Havashaw said bombastically.

  “And you haven’t abused that authority at all,” Carmela Anders stated. “Considering you tried to arrest Hek’Dara earlier this year.”

  “And where did the Tannadors get their security force, Carmela?” Jackman Pike asked.

  “Lady Xavier, I’ve never known you to be this quiet before,” Brandon Hyguard said.

  Quinton and Lucinda exchanged looks. There was something odd about her. The dullness of her eyes and blank expression made Quinton wonder if she had been taking Gold, to get through the thought that her family exploration ship had been destroyed.

  “My mother hasn’t been feeling well, she’s worried about my father, who has taken ill,” Gregaor said.

  “You are not a formal member of this Union, Gregaor, and are only here to give testimony,” Jackson Pike said. “The Tannador security officer isn’t welcome here, but at least he knows protocol.”

  “Have you begun the Union meeting without me?” Avery Lexor asked in a snide remark when he entered the chamber through a door at the back of the room. “I’d assumed you’d wait for me, since I am head of the council.”

  Quinton followed Avery into his seat with his eyes, and the two exchanged silent salutations as he sat. Quinton studied Avery’s eyes. They had the same lackluster dullness as Lucinda’s. curious, he thought.

  The chamber door opened, and all eyes went to the back of the room to find the pretty petite redhaired proxy of Moyah Everhart standing in its frame. Her eyes averted to the floor when she entered the room, and she took her seat at the end of the table.

  “There see, we couldn’t have begun anyway without the Everhart representative here, now could we?” Avery asked.

  Though Avery sounded jovial enough, Quinton couldn’t get past the expressionless and plastic stare on his face. It reminded Quinton of puppets. The actions were there, but it appeared that he wasn’t in control.

  “Quinton, are you with us?”

  Quinton focused on Avery, and he saw the others in the room staring at him. “Sorry,” he said. “Lost in thought.”

  “I was asking if you concurred,” Avery said.

  “To what?” Quinton said and shuffled in his seat.

  “To having your officer, wait outside the chambers.”

  Quinton looked at Carmela, and then back to Avery and said, “Alright, I’ll agree to that.” He turned to Martin, pointed to the door in a silent command.

  Martin snapped to attention and exited the room without a word.

  “He’s well disciplined,” Havashaw Orlander said. “If all of your security force is that well behaved, they could be added to our troops.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Carmela replied. “You’ll find that my men are loyal to a fault.”

  Quinton eyed Carmela, there was a hidden meaning in her words. They were as perplexing as the stupefied expressions on Lucinda’s and Avery’s faces.

  “It’s time we restore order to the Union,” Avery said. “As it was set down three centuries ago.”

  “Here, here,” Havashaw Orlander proclaimed with a pounding of his fist on the table.

  “The idea of each house having a large security force is dangerous and uncalled for,” Brandon Hyguard added. “In three-hundred years we haven’t needed them, and in that time, there have been no wars between nations because we control everything.”

  “For far too long wars were fought over, power and money,” Jackman Pike said. “But since the Nine control all the assets and we have kept a healthy relationship there have been no need for armies.”

  “Only the army created by the Lexors and Orlanders,” Gavin said.


  “Let’s not forget who sanctioned the creation of the Orlander security force,” Warner Cromwell said. “And the part Moyah Everhart played.”

  A timid squeak came from the other end of the table and all eyes turned to the Everhart proxy.

  “Was there something you wanted to say?” Avery asked.

  “Well... I would like to amend Lord Cromwell’s statement. That Lady Everhart had no hand in the creation of the Orlander security force and she...”

  “She voted yes so the breeding facilities would be built,” Jackman Pike interrupted.

  Rising out of his seat, Havashaw Orlander said, “This is all academic. We are here to listen to the testimony of Gregaor Xavier.”

  “The time for finger pointing can wait until another day,” Avery added and motioned with his hand for Havashaw to sit back in his seat. “This chair recognizes Gregaor Xavier.”

  Quinton leaned forward in his seat, studying Avery’s expressions. They were almost timed. Certain characteristics seemed rehearsed. Blinks, brow furrows, a tick of his right eye, the rolling of his lips seemed to reoccur in a cycle, over and over.

  Gregaor stood and pressed his hands firmly on the table and said, “It is luck that brings me here today. Pure luck, even though I should be dead I stand before you with the truth. My ship is destroyed and all hands aboard dead, it rests on me to tell what happened.”

  Listening to Gregaor, Quinton glanced at Lucinda just at the moment her brow furrowed. He sat up in his seat when her expression offered an eye tick, followed by the rolling of her lips. She was mimicking the same actions as Avery in the same cycle. On further scrutiny, Quinton realized she and Avery were producing the movements at precisely the same time. There was no doubt something was amiss. It was like something was controlling them – an outside force maybe.

  “The blood of my crew is on the hands of the Tannadors.”

  “Huh,” Quinton’s brow knitted, and he looked to Gregaor who was jabbing a finger in his direction. “What lie is this?” he demanded.

  Incensed, Gregaor sharpened his voice and said, “So enraged was Da’Mira Tannador that she fired on my ship with the Requiem’s railguns when we came to claim Kepler 369 in a dispute of ownership.”