by Geoff Wolak
‘In our society, they stop swimming after a year, and many avoid swimming as being … primitive. But in secret we all enjoy swimming. Bath time is always popular with kids, but you won’t see the kids in the general population till they are fifteen or sixteen.’
I was shocked. ‘That old?’
‘We attend special schools, and then mix with society before mid-level exams. I studied human culture because of military access, and you humans raise your own offspring right from the start. We don’t have that emotional bond to the young.’
‘Maybe, if you raise them yourself, you might,’ I suggested. ‘Anyway, don’t tell me what your history books say about things, we don’t want to create a paradox.’
‘Much of the human detail was removed during The Great Purge of sixty years ago,’ Sandra explained. ‘A pro-Seethan government took over, and removed the last few humans left, no contact allowed. But thirty years ago that was kind of reversed by a trend to use English and to have English names, for the rich people to start with anyway.’
‘You’ll need to keep that detail to yourself, and be wary of people here asking questions. If there is a problem, refer them to Jimmy.’ I got nipped on the leg. ‘One of the little perishers just bit me.’
‘That can happen at this age,’ Sandra said, giggling. ‘Keep fingers away from mouths.’
Jimmy returned to us after a world tour, a tour of several worlds in fact, and joined us for a meal, Sandra and Jesus now firmly part of the family.
Sandra would stay at home each day as she raised the kids, with a little help, and Jesus worked each day at the research lab in Trophy. And both now held Canadian citizenship, passports issued and bank accounts opened, Jesus’s wages paid directly into the bank, an allowance from me keeping the new parents off the bread line. After all, they had a few hungry mouths to feed.
Towards the end of the meal, Jimmy placed an anti-bug device onto the table. ‘There’s something we need to discuss.’ He had everyone’s attention. ‘Once I knew just what the Seethan were, I had someone do a little research for me. I arranged for an early sample of Pleb’s blood – prior to being injected by us – and compared it to … your father, Paul.’
‘My … father?’ I puzzled.
‘Yes, I also compared it to Helen’s parents, their DNA still on file.’
‘What the hell for?’ Helen asked.
Jimmy took in our expectant faces, Jesus and Sandra curious. ‘There is Seethan DNA in your DNA, Paul, but not in your father’s DNA.’
‘I … have Seethan DNA?’ I loudly repeated.
Jimmy nodded. ‘As do you, Helen, and from 1986.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ I loudly asked.
‘Someone … injected you Paul, and you Helen, before you ever met me. Which … is why your daughters always swam like fish. As best as we can figure it … you were being prepared for producing Selemba.’
‘Someone interfered … back then?’ I queried.
Jimmy nodded. ‘Yes, someone went right back to that date and made a small change, and … I have no idea who.’
Jesus said, ‘Our people did not know your frequency.’ Sandra agreed.
‘Someone did,’ Jimmy stated.
‘Selemba?’ I asked.
‘No, I don’t think so; there would be no need. Well, we don’t quite know how the earlier alteration affected your ability to produce Selemba. Since she needed the necklace, I guess it failed.’
‘Could it be the other way around?’ Susan asked. ‘And that Paul and Helen’s DNA ended up in the Seether, as we know it will?’
‘Their DNA starts with Selemba, not with Pleb,’ Jimmy emphasised. ‘Pleb is too early in the time line. There’s something else.’ He paused for dramatic affect. ‘Sandra, has your government experimented with long-term hibernation for your people?’
‘Yes, we can be safely frozen and brought back,’ she answered. ‘Or, more accurately, we can be part-frozen, since our metabolism never completely stops.’
‘Long distance space travel,’ Jimmy announced.
‘My God,’ Susan let out. ‘They’ll conquer space.’
‘They can do what we can’t, and be frozen and revived without harm,’ Jimmy added. ‘Fish DNA, and our blood product! And this is all secret, not to be discussed.’
‘If they conquer space,’ I began, ‘then they could go back and forwards in the same timeline, if Einstein was correct. No need for a portal.’
‘Just a very fast ship,’ Jimmy put in. ‘Anyway, no more discussion of this, not yet.’
‘You’re a crafty bastard,’ Susan told Jimmy, shocking us.
‘Dearest?’ I nudged.
‘Seethan colonies on this world: citizens, passports, and being raised here,’ she said.
I smiled. ‘Future space pilots.’
Sandra faced Jimmy. ‘You mean my offspring to fly to the stars.’
Jimmy smiled and nodded.
‘A privileged position,’ Jesus noted.
‘Sneaky bastard,’ I let out with a smile.
Jimmy said, ‘I may have accidentally mentioned the fact to the Russians, the Chinese, and even President Gilchrist. There’s never been more interest in space travel.’
Magestic 3
Copyright © Geoff Wolak
www.geoffwolak-writing.com
Part 2
A new world
I explained why I had to develop the Seethan world to Susan – I blamed Jimmy, then explained it again to Helen – again blaming Jimmy, and a week later packed a bag.
Pleb had been busy organising his old village in the meantime, and was very popular with the locals - who had sold much of the livestock to the towns and cities. The President and his cronies now knew of the gift, the capital smelling ripe, the locals watching where they walked. Pleb had, quite cleverly, taken a few coins from bachelors of his village when he explained that he, Pleb, had arranged the deal with the ancestors. Unfortunately, Pleb had buried his horde - save it being stolen, but could not remember where. It had been dark at the time.
A building had been arranged for ‘the ancestors’ in the capital, actually tucked away on the edge of the capital, and an ambassadorial agreement had been drawn up by the Seethan President and handed to Pleb. Seems that we would not be free to mingle with the general populace, that we’d have government minders wherever we went, and that where we went would be restricted. We had not yet informed the Seethan Government about the drones, or their abilities, and Jimmy had already arranged for a few dated Seethan bombers to crash before reaching their targets.
Keen to start my new assignment I stepped through the portal, to be met by Pleb, a line of dated cars sat waiting my team, the agreement document handed over to me - before being duly handed on to a waiting human diplomat. I had brought two of my household guards, both former Canadian Rifles, and twelve diplomats from a variety of worlds. They would man the embassy, and our first ambassador would be a former Canadian ambassador to Chile, the man just about as dull and boring as you could find; perfect material for being an ambassador. He was called Henry, he was single, now aged seventy-five, but he looked forty-five. He wore glasses just for show, and reminded me of an old headmaster I had in school.
The Seethan police escorted us on the long journey south, unaware of our drones overhead, armed attack drones now circling the skies. We arrived as it started getting dark, finding a square building behind a high brick wall, a three-storey building with ornate grounds at the base of a hill. Rooms were grabbed, and we found that nine Seethan officials were already living here, including cooks and cleaners. We would not have the place to ourselves. The electricity worked, just about, the water heater being a dated oil-fired boiler in a basement.
The guards found several dated listening devices straight away and disabled them, setting-up our own anti-bugging devices. The ambassador grabbed a damp bedroom and made himself comfortable, inspecting his equally damp office before dinner. His office came with a view of the garden, a view of a high brick wall
and some of the city beyond, the hills visible in the distance.
The household staff cooked us a meal, and the diplomatic staff sat around a large oblong table at 10pm. The Seethans served us chicken and lamb, making me smile; I had brought my own mint sauce, figuring that they would have none here. Calling over the cook, who doubled as a waiter, I let him taste some of the mint. Pleb translated, and the man thought he knew where to get some. He would try tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever.
The diplomats had all been more diligent than I had, and each had taken the time to learn some Seethan: please and thank you, yes and no, cold and warm. I made do with the data-pad, and Pleb, but the cook questioned my need for pencils at one point. That night I settled into a bed that smelled a little damp, and creaked when I moved. I heard a plane fly over, an old twin engine aircraft by the sound of it, maybe a Seethan plane off to bomb the Preether.
I woke before dawn and took in the grey city skyline like a tourist, genuinely keen. Breakfast was served at 8am, the Seethans not ones for early rising, and we had bacon and eggs. They even had salt, and toast was provided. The butter tasted a bit odd, but it was a dairy butter - I checked.
The diplomats spent all that day organising rooms, then re-arranging a few, more seats and tables requested. When they set-up their data-pads and screens, the Seethan minders asked questions, amazed by the images displayed. Our diplomats linked to each other, the Seether suggesting that it was television, but where was the large clumsy camera - and the six people needed to operate it?
I grabbed the corner of an office, not in with the ambassador himself, and readied my own data-pads. Pleb was learning how to use one, one that had a few features removed. He now knew how to call me with it, but always managed to appear at an angle, or upside down. And he always took two attempts to find my office. He was on the first floor, I was on the second. Hell, all offices looked alike. On my desk I arranged photographs of my family, families more like, and the Seethan minders immediately closed in on the pictures. Yes, I had indeed mated, and with several women. I was now their idol, smirks given by virgin Seethan lads. I was a stud.
At 11am I called the first meeting, the ambassador’s large office used. The ambassador, Henry, sat at his desk, the rest of us around the walls, Pleb listening intently.
I began, ‘Given that none of the Seether speak English, except Pleb here, it makes you wonder about the logic of the bugs.’
‘Bugs in bed?’ Pleb asked. ‘I clean them.’
We all smiled, as if at a child.
‘Thank you,’ I told him. ‘OK, first business is to try and meet their highest officials, and I guess their agriculture minister, and discuss supplies of livestock and grain. Someone once said: it’s easy to be nice to your neighbour when your belly is full.’
The men all smiled.
Pleb nodded his head. ‘Yes, wise words.’
‘And then … then we’ll start a process of injections to reduce disease and sickness. We can use Pleb here as an example of the healing.’
‘I am very strong now, yes,’ Pleb agreed.
I faced Pleb. ‘Ask the Seethan here if they wish good medicine from us, as you had?’ He stood and raced out before I could stop him. ‘He does take things literally. OK, guys, let’s get the pigs, sheep and … other farm animals rolling, a steady stream. We’ll take this in simple stages over the next … forty years or so. And tomorrow, if all goes well, we’ll meet a Preethan ambassador.’
‘What about the ice colony?’ Henry broached.
I heaved a big breath. ‘It will be … six to eight weeks before we have a portal to evacuate them, and then just in small groups. I don’t want to make them any grand promises.’
‘The drone will drop phones and drugs today,’ a man reminded me. ‘We timed it that way.’ He checked his data pad. ‘And hour or so from now.’
‘How will they find the drone in the snow?’ I puzzled, lifting my Simpsons mug.
‘Homing beacon on it, same frequency as the one they’ve been using. Besides, it’ll land right on top of their main colony.’
I nodded. ‘Then, maybe after lunch, we’ll get a call.’
Peck jumped as his door burst open. ‘God sakes, man, knock!’
‘Sorry, sir, but we have a signal. A drone will land directly outside us here, in a few minutes. It’s emitting a homing signal, and we reckon it’s close already.’
‘What’s the weather outside?’
‘Just a five.’
‘Wind dropped then, it was nine last night.’
An hour later, Peck stood in a large storage room with a group, all now staring down at the drone, and all wrapped up warm in several layers. ‘It’s like a large toy plane.’
‘Those are solar panels,’ someone said, pointing.
A man eased down, soon lying on the cold concrete floor, next to the drone. ‘Here, there’s writing. A panel.’ He lifted a phone, then a glass box full of vials. ‘Drugs.’
Peck took the phone. ‘It’s a little like on old satellite phone. I guess we press the green button.’ He pressed the button, the ambassador’s holographic image appearing, and startling the group.
‘Can you hear me OK?’ Henry asked.
‘Er … yes,’ Peck replied, now holding the phone at arm’s length. ‘I’m Chief Administrator Walter Peck.’
‘Ambassador Henry Dawson. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Ambassador? To whom?’
‘To the Seether.’
‘Ambassador … to the Seether?’
‘Yes, we’ve just occupied a building in their capital, which is where I am now. You can’t see the others, but my staff are here as well, and we can all see you.’
‘How … is the image being relayed?’ Peck queried.
‘By the drones over you; they’re at sixty thousand feet.’
‘Drones … like this huge toy plane?’
Henry smiled. ‘Yes, just like that. They can stay airborne for years, solar powered during the day.’
‘Amazing,’ Peck let out. ‘And … might I ask why you’re talking to the Seether … instead of attempting to assist us?’
‘Well, we only just got here, and we’re moving as fast as we can to build a base on Antarctica, but on our world. When that’s ready we’ll open a portal and evacuate you.’
‘Evacuate … to where, exactly?’
‘To any world you like, they’re all quite safe these days, and we have the antidote to your flu virus.’
‘And these worlds are … in other dimensions?’
‘Yes, but don’t get hung-up on the science. In simple terms, Earth’s history is a ribbon of energy that splits every once in a while. When it does split an exact carbon copy is created. In time, random events alter the histories, but you have two similar worlds. On most worlds, a nuclear war was fought around 2017, often much earlier, as early as 1987 in some cases. In your case … earlier again.’
‘And your worlds … they rebuilt themselves after the war?’
The ambassador’s holographic image smiled. ‘No. On one particular world a time machine was perfected, and a man stepped through. He took six attempts, but eventually altered Earth’s political history and prevented the war. Our worlds have advanced to 2048 without any wars, and we have little in the way of disease or hunger.’
‘Six attempts?’ a lady queried. ‘How is that possible, he’d die of old age?’
‘He’s over three hundred years old, yes.’
‘Three hundred?’ Peck repeated.
‘We have drugs that stop the ageing process; they’re the drugs in the drone. Once injected, a person stops ageing and is immune to all diseases.’
‘Incredible,’ Peck let out. ‘And you say that it will cure the flu virus?’
‘It has already been tested to do so.’
‘Tested?’
‘We captured a Seethan and took him to our world, where a few people felt unwell. We isolated the virus in those who felt unwell, and they were injected with a stronger dose of
the drug you have.’
‘Felt unwell? On this world people die within twenty-four hours!’
‘Is that why you’re in the Antarctic?’
‘Yes, nowhere else was safe.’
‘Not quite accurate,’ the ambassador suggested. ‘We’ve found hundreds of isolated villages with people still alive.’
Peck took in the faces, as his people whispered comments. ‘We never knew.’
‘They have no technology, no EM signatures. For the most part … they’re aboriginal.’
‘I see. So we are the only ones left.’
‘As far as we know, and we have scanned much of the planet.’
‘Using these drone things,’ Peck stated. ‘Might I ask, just why … you’ve opened relations with the Seether?’
The ambassador took a moment. ‘It was decided, on our world, not to wind back time here, since it would take many attempts, and many decades, to stop your war – and your virus. As your world is now - is as it will stay, and we’ll help the Seether and Preether to develop peacefully after you’ve been evacuated.’
‘This becomes their world then,’ Peck complained.
‘That happened … when someone released a germ for warfare – and killed mankind.’
Peck hesitated. ‘A grave error, yes. But just who, on your world, decided not to try and wind back time?’
‘That was the same man who wound back time on many worlds, his name Jimmy Silo.’
‘And what office does he hold on your world?’
The ambassador smiled. ‘He does not hold office, but he does have considerable influence – with everyone, and he knows how difficult it would be to re-do your history.’
‘Do we not have a say in the matter?’ Peck complained.
‘We should not unwind,’ someone said, others agreeing.
‘Seems that your people are not united on the matter,’ Henry noted.
‘We are yet to debate it properly, and with everyone here,’ Peck insisted.
‘When you get to our world, you could petition the government.’
