Space Chronicles: The Last Human War (6 page)

The jungle changed as Simon approached the mountain. Large ferns vanished, replaced by distant cousins a third the size. Instead of soft mulch of the jungle floor, dry twigs cracked under his worker boots. Hardwood trees stood in the open with no moss on their bark or vines growing up from the ground. Blue sky replaced dense jungle canopy.

He
felt naked and exposed without the jungle foliage. He considered returning to the jungle but could not bring himself to turn away from the looming mountain peak.

Occasional
bare-rock mounds thrust up through the soil. Sitting on one to rest while eating fruit and drinking water, he could see long distances in any direction. He glanced wistfully back at the jungle, and then ahead at the mountain that appeared much larger now. Long foothills extended from the base of the mountain far out into the jungle. He counted his fruit supply.

S
parse vegetation allowed Simon to travel faster, and he reached the edge of the foothills just before dark. It was time to find shelter for the night.

A solitary large tree sat on top of a nearby rise
. It was different from the jungle hardwoods. Bark was smoother and climbing more difficult.

After several attempts, Simon managed to reach a large branch at a safe elevation. His fingertips hurt,
having been scraped and bleeding from the effort. Once in place, he noticed there were no vines to secure him for the night.

S
lipping back to the ground, he uprooted nearby saplings to build a pad and tethers on his tree perch. His body demanded repayment for sleep deprivation of the night before, and after securing himself in his lofty nest, he fell into a deep sleep.

Morning brought a chill.
He tucked his hands into his tunic’s insulated pockets while studying his new environment. Where was the water? There was no thick fog like inside the jungle. For some reason, the mist suspended short of these foothills. He realized he would have no life-giving source of water anywhere close to this tree perch.

In c
hecking supplies, there were two skins of water left and three branches of fruit pods. He glanced up the nearby foothill and calculated that he could explore the rocky slopes for two days before he must return to the jungle for food and water.

Do hicays leave the jungle? I hope not.

Classes taught that they evolved as jungle dwellers and rarely ventured into open areas, like the mining zones, so he decided to take the risk. Besides, events of the prior night made Simon’s decision easy. Unknown perils in hills could not be a greater threat than Tanarac soldiers.

Simon wondered why these hills
drew him so strongly. In the past three days, he learned to trust his instincts. This would have to be no different.

The slow, steady climb
up rocky slopes was far more difficult than it appeared. Fingertips bled as he crawled across abrasive volcanic rocks. After skirting a large boulder, he discovered a faint trail following natural contours of the hill. It headed toward the distant mountain peak and allowed him to walk upright, providing welcome relief for his hands.

M
ultiple small hoof prints of some kind of mountain creature showed in loose gravel in flat spots, but there was no sign of hicays. He stopped occasionally to take nourishment and keep his bearings so he could return to the jungle in two days for food and water.

Simon came to a fork in the trail. Both paths seemed to continue upslope, but the mountain
’s peak showed above the path to the right, making his decision easy.

After topping a small ri
se, the chosen path began to descend into a long, narrow valley, filled thick with jungle plants. Growth looked so dense that he wondered if he could even pass through it. A flock of small birds near the edge darted around some kind of flowering bushes, while, farther down the canyon, a single large bird soared majestically above lush treetops. There was no sign of large animals like hicays. The far end of the valley was beyond sight where the canyon wrapped around the mountain to vanish between two massive cliff walls.

That looks like a small jungle. I’ll bet I can find food there.
Is that a Topi tree?
He marveled at the sight of a fruit bearing tree just inside the beginning of the canyon jungle.

Despite t
he valley’s food possibilities, Simon was more interested in continuing up the slope toward the mountain. He returned to the fork in the trail and tried the second path. To his relief, it continued upward and turned directly toward the distant peak.

Sharp mountain shadows developed as
Tanarac’s first sun approached sunset. He knew he must find shelter for the night. A crack in the nearby mountainside looked just wide enough for a man to enter. It had a large boulder wedged in the top, creating a narrow cave slightly taller than a man, and offering protection against the elements, as well as being defensible.

The young man
stashed his fruit and empty water pouches at the back of the shelter and headed back to explore the small canyon below for food. The first time Simon had looked down on the valley, he thought he saw a Topi tree fairly close to the beginning of the vegetation. If true, its fruit might extend his time indefinitely in these hills.

There it was
. Only a few dozen meters into the dense undergrowth, a Topi tree, its branches bowed under the heavy weight of ripe fruit pods.

Simon wasted no time working his way to the food source. To his surprise,
the vegetation he saw from the path above was actually a canopy, covering a vibrant ecosystem. Even soft mulch below his feet felt the same as on the Central Jungle’s floor.

He
broke off several large branches of seedpods to add to his stash. As he headed back to his cave, he delighted in his discovery. Strategically placed stores of food could extend his range of exploration. He smiled at his good fortune.

Loaded down with fruit, Simon reached the fork and turned up
the path leading to his small shelter. Crunching noise in gravel behind him caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see one of the hoofed mountain animals. A golden-haired hicay looked straight into his eyes. It was walking right in his footsteps less than a hundred meters behind.

He
dropped the fruit and ran. Wedging himself deep into his narrow crevice, he grabbed a Topi branch in one hand and a fist-sized rock in the other. His heart pounded. Nothing happened.

Did
the hicay lost sight of me when I rounded the bend?

Minutes passed
when the hicay sauntered into view on the path below the dark hiding place. The beast was in no hurry. After sniffing the air, it glanced directly into Simon’s cave and took several tentative steps up the slope toward the crevice. The predator dropped to its belly and extended both sets of upper legs as far as they could stretch along the rock. Claws rotated out from under thick fur and scraped deep ruts into volcanic pumice. The terrifying animal sat back on its haunches and stared into the cave.

Simon barely breathed.

The hicay saw something further up the trail and made several throaty groans. It cocked its head to one side, and intermittent groans became a prolonged moaning sound. This was nothing like hunting screams he had come to recognize.

“
It’s okay. C’mon out. She won’t hurt’cha.”

A human voice
. Simon could not believe his ears. The long shadow of a man moved across the entrance to his crevice.

“Honest, c’mon out. She’s my friend.”

A male human leaned into Simon’s view. His head cocked sideways, as he tried to see into the dark cave.

The hicay came up to the strange man and gently nudged him with its enormous head. The human took the hicay by its ears, and
, while rubbing his forehead against the side of its menacing jaw, he introduced himself to Simon.

“I’m Tai. What’s yer name?”

“Uhhh, I’m Simon, boomer on Striker Twelve. I’m afraid of hicays.”

Tai turned to the hicay and made two hand gestures. The beast looked into Simon’s crevice one more time, before ambling away, again in no great hurry.

“That better? She’s gone. You can come out now.”

Simon wiggled out of his safe haven, cautiously looking both ways before fully emerging.

Tai hugged Simon as if they were old friends, before stepping back to look up and down the human plow worker.

“Good ta meet ya
. Gonna be dark soon. We gotta get going.”

Sensing
urgency in Tai’s voice, Simon turned to retrieve his water pouches and fruit.

“Leave it. We got plenty.”

“We?” Simon asked.

“Boy, y
ou’re in for a surprise! I remember my first time. I wuz like you. Couldn’t believe my eyes. Dunno what shocked me most—friendly hicays or free humans. Let’s go. We gotta cover ground.”

Tai started up the path at a brisk pace. Simon was in good shape but was surprised how fast
the young man moved over uneven terrain. When the second sun disappeared below the horizon, total darkness engulfed the two humans. Tai paused to produce a small light that barely lighted the path ahead.

“You okay,
fella?” Tai asked.

“I’m thirsty
, but I’m okay for now.”

Tai handed Simon a skin pouch and instructed him to drink from a narrow slit at the top. The water was wonderful
as the quarry worker savored the fluid he gulped from the bag.

“Don’t drink too much
,” Tai warned. “It’ll give ya cramps. You can drink more in a little while. We’re almost there.”

Tai grabbed the pouch before
he quenched his thirst, and they resumed the fast pace up the trail. The incline seemed to be getting steeper, and Simon’s breathing labored as he tried to keep up with Tai’s unwavering pace.

They came to the base of a massive vertical wall that vanished somewhere in the dark far above Tai’s light.

“Here we are.” He turned to Simon. “Follow me. Don’t hit yer head.”

Tai skirted around a large bush next to the trail. He dropped
to crawl and disappeared from view behind the bush. Peripheral light from his lamp revealed a tunnel entrance concealed by the shrub.

The rock floor was unexpectedly smooth as Simon crawled behind
his guide. A gentle draft blew into his face, and he thought he could smell a faint odor of smoke. After a short distance, Tai rose to a crouching walk, one hand touching the tunnel ceiling above his head.

S
moke became more distinct as Tai’s pace picked up through a series of gentle turns. The low ceiling rose until it vanished from sight. At one point, Tai stopped and extended his right arm to the wall and spoke over his shoulder.

“We’re on the edge of a pretty nasty drop. Keep y
our hand on the wall to the right, and you’ll be okay. If ya screw up . . .”

Tai tossed
a rock into the black void to their left. For a few seconds there was no sound. Then, the distant echo of the rock ricocheting off walls somewhere far below provided all the proof needed.

Simon strained to see anything in the pitch black beyond the area around
Tai’s light. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when a momentary brightness appeared in the darkness ahead. After making a couple more turns, he discovered his sharp eyes had been right as Tai led them into a huge cavern lit by numerous bright lights.

“Hey guys, we got
a runner!” Tai called out.

Several people quickly attended to Simon. Some offered words of reassurance while others handed him food and water. None wore workers’ tunics. They looked strange in clothing unlike anything provided by Taskers.

“You are safe now, young man,” said an older human with facial hair and a deep, warm voice. He placed an arm around Simon’s shoulders and gently guided him through the crowd.

“I am Shilgar. What
is your name?”

“I’m Simon, boomer on Striker
Twelve. Are you all humans?”

“Yes,
young man. We’re all human.” Shilgar smiled. “Free humans, just like you.”

“Were you all runners?”

“Some. Others were free born.” The older man spoke slowly with deliberate patience and understanding. “We’ll answer all your questions after you’ve rested.”

“Of course, Kob!” Dr. Hadje said as he paced in frustration. “I’m fully aware scout gliders are for military use only. I would never ask you to take such a career risk if the situation was not critical.”

He listened and responded to a series of questions.

“No, I can’t use our science sleds. They don’t have the vertical lift capacity or remote piloting system I need.”

With forced patience,
the scientist countered each of Kob’s objections.

“No, I don’t have time to go through channels.

“You know I can’t call General Tragge. He would never approve such a request from me.

“No, I don’t need a military pilot.

“Yes, I am fully certified on grav sled controls.”

Dr. Hadje sensed he was about to be declined, leaving him no choice but to resort to his greatest leverage over the young officer.

“Kob, do you remember when you finished your advanced studies in my department? You were my top graduate student. I was deeply disappointed when you chose the Military Service Academy instead of joining Science Corps. They rejected your application because of your family’s involvement in the outer-system Syntic Tribe during the Rebellion. What did I do?”

The doctor
hated to use guilt, but would not be denied.

“That’s right! And, it was not pleasant for me to make that call. I do so dislike
the general, but I called him on your behalf. The general reversed the disqualification, and you got your MSA appointment.” The doctor took a deep breath, knowing this would be his final chance to get the answer he so desperately needed, “I am out of options. I need your help . . . just as you once needed mine. Is there ANY way you can get me that Scout Glider?”

For a few tense seconds, only Kob’s steady breathing
could be heard while the young officer weighed his former mentor’s request.

“D
oc, I appreciate everything you did for me, but this could blow my whole career.” He sighed in resignation. “Alright. Here’s the best I can do. I have a new, high-lift SG in the service hanger. It’s not certified for operations yet. The final shakedown flight is ten days from now. I’ll requisition a grav inverter calibration, and nobody’ll miss it on the flight line if they think it’s in the antigrav shop. That’ll buy you six days, but, that’s it. That’s the best I can do. And, if you don’t get it back to me on time, well . . .” The young officer’s voice trailed off as he considered repercussions for his action.

“Thank you.
I promise I will have it back on time. My diplomatic credentials can get me onto your base, but I could never leave with a military aircraft. How will I get it?”

After making clandestine arrangements with his former student, Dr. Hadje set his plan in motion. He had half a night to gather his equipment before the military sled would be delivered to the quarry.

The warehouse at the Human Genetic Engineering Institute was uncharacteristically dark. Usually, a few young scientists, obsessed with pet projects, scampered around the facility after hours, even on a holiday weekend like this. The vacant building was a relief. He would not have to feign answers to inevitable questions.

After satisfying security system
s, he turned on the lights in the storage section and selected a large cart near the door. He began filling it with scientific instruments, pausing when he reached a bin labeled “Stun Cords.” This human had attacked a Tasker, nevertheless, the doctor could not bring himself to include weapons on his instrument list. He resumed pushing his cart toward the computer center, hesitating once to glance back at the stun cord bin.

The door to the computer lab was slightly ajar. A small circle of light at the far end of the lab meant someone was at the master console. Direct access to the main frame was restricted to the Lab Master, three senior scientists, and himself. Leaving
the cart behind, the Minister of Human Affairs strode boldly past rows of computer terminals and demanded to know who was accessing classified information.

“Dr. Hadje!” The startled operator spun around in his seat to face the approaching director.

“Jix, what are you doing on that computer?” It was more demand, than question.

“It’s okay
. I hold a Senior Level-4 clearance and got permission from the Lab Master to access the main frame on weekends. I’ve been studying the genetic matrix of the two runners at Quarry 33 and applying your theory of helix migration to their behavioral DNA sequences. Look what I found, sir.”

There was urgency in the young scientist’s actions as he turned back to the computer and pointed to a three-dimensional image pad.
The senior scientist watched two images of DNA segments materialize in the air next to each other. They rotated slowly on their axis above the computer’s 3-D projector. To the naked eye, they looked identical.

“The first helix,”
the younger scientist began, “that’s the white one, was from the male before insertion in the host cell. That was the actual DNA matrix we finalized and transferred to the Repro lab for implantation. This second matrix, the one in blue, is from a hair sample we found in his room at the quarry. I compared every segment against the original matrix.”

Jix pushed a computer key, and a small strip of DNA extracted from each helix and began magnifying. As the expanding sections reached the limits of the 3-D image pad, a new portion carved out and magnification repeated. After ten such extractions, the blue segment began showing a small length highlighted in red. The red section continued to grow in size with each
expansion until the senior scientist could easily see the blue DNA fragment, with its red segment, did not match the corresponding white strand. The older scientist was not impressed.

“
We’ve seen this before,” the doctor said. “This is a good example of genetic aberrations we discussed on the flight to Quarry 33. I addressed this phenomenon in my Theory of Spontaneous Sequence Regeneration.”

“No,
doctor.” Jix shook his head emphatically. “This is not retro-translation. Watch.”

As
the younger Tanarac worked the keyboard, three-dimensional DNA fragments dissolved, replaced by a bar graph. The graph displayed dozens of white and blue bars, side-by-side. Each white bar exactly corresponded to its equivalent blue bar. He panned the graph to the right and a long series of paired bars passed until the white columns no longer matched the blue bars. Instead, both the blue and white columns disappeared altogether, leaving only a single set of red data bars.

Jix turned to look squarely into Dr. Hadje’s
eyes.

“There
’s no corresponding original DNA.” He pointed at the red data columns. “This post-conception segment—it’s not even human!”

Dr. Hadje leaned closer to the graph, examining every detail before he instructed
his subordinate to get up from the computer. He ran several iterations of the raw data. Each time, the graph recomposed with the same result.

The more experienced scientist entered another series of instructions and sat back in the chair while the mainframe hummed. After a few seconds, the 3-D pad projected the target DNA fragment, again all in red. There was no doubt. This segment did not match any human DNA in the agency’s entire
data pool. Ten thousand humans and not a single match.

“There’s more,
sir.”

Jix leaned over
his boss’s shoulder to reach the keyboard.

“I ran the analysis on the human woman. Same
thing. She has a non-human strand embedded in her DNA, and the foreign gene strand in her code exactly matches the one in the male’s helix.”

Dr. Hadje watched as two identical segments rotated slowly above the holo-pad and merged into a single, perfectly superimposed image, but Jix was not through.

“I wondered about the source of these non-human segments, so I took the initiative to run a comparison of these DNA fragments with our entire genetic data base, not just humans. You won’t believe this, sir. These fragments are Tanarac.”

It took a moment for this stunning revelation to sink in. Every scientist in the department took an oath of silence about humans. The oath included strict prohibitions against unauthorized tampering with human
genetic code, and it carried the full force of law. It was inconceivable to Dr. Hadje that any of his scientists would do such a thing. Yet here, before him, was undeniable proof. Someone violated the oath.

“Are you sure your samples were not contaminated?”
He peered into the young scientist’s eyes, seeking confidence in these astounding results.

“That’s why I’m here tonight,
Doctor. I ran the tests a dozen times using different DNA samples from both humans. It’s always the same.”

“How did this happen?” Dr. Hadje spoke to himself as he shook his head in disbelief.

Jix responded slowly, almost cautiously. “You’d better see the rest of what I found.”

The younger scientist’s tone changed to that of a nervous messenger about to convey bad news.

“I knew there would be an investigation, so I tried to isolate the Tanarac genes. Uhhh, I had to stretch a few rules, sir. I know it’s against protocol for me to download security logs. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, but I hacked into the access registry to see who was on duty the night these genetic sequences were inserted into their host cells. There was only one scientist in the Repro Lab. I’ve never met him. His name is Dr. Yal.”

“Fexad Yal.” Dr. Hadje remembered the young intern.

“Sir, he was the only person with knowledge, opportunity, and the technical training to alter the DNA. I examined the Repro Lab’s bounce code. It matched perfectly, so he did receive the correct sequence for cellular insertion. The code was altered inside the lab. I tried to find Dr. Yal in our personnel directory to ask him about it.”

The doctor
leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“Fexad was terminated from Science Corps at about that time
. He wanted to join our field research team but was unable to pass his Comprehensive Genetics Exam. I felt sorry for him, and put him in the Repro center for a few years to give him more time to study. After he failed the test a third time, he became discouraged, and I suggested he consider teaching in a university rather than working in our genetics lab. I don’t know where he ended up. It was in everyone’s best interest when he agreed to leave us, but I would never have believed he might tamper with—”

Dr. Hadje rose abruptly.

“Thank you, Dr. Lillip. You’ve done an excellent job. I have to go. I’m taking copies of these DNA files with me.”

The head of human research
inserted a small data storage bar into the computer’s external transfer port. It pulsed in green flashes while receiving the download.

“D
octor, there’s one more thing I need to show you.”

By now, the younger scientist had earned
his boss’s full attention.

“As you know, sir, each time we enter a lab, the security system scans our DNA as a back up to our personal access code and voice analysis. The system maintains a permanent record of that scan. It’s a read-only file, so it’s tamper proof, and, yes sir, I know it’s off limits, but I had to know the truth.
Sir, the source of the Tanarac DNA segment in the humans—it’s a perfect match with your friend. Dr. Yal He used his own DNA.”

The older Tanarac
flushed dark blue in anger. Slowly rotating holograms of the human DNA fragment superimposed onto a corresponding Tanarac segment from rogue scientist’s security scan. The images were identical.

Dr. Hadje shook his head in disgust. He made no further comment as he angrily snatched his data bar from the computer and headed toward the cart he left in the supply room.

Jix followed.

“Can I help you?”

“No, son. You shouldn’t have any further involvement with me tonight. There will be recriminations for what I’m about to do. You have done an outstanding job. Thank you.”

“You’re going after the humans, aren’t you?
I’d like to go with you.”

The doctor
knew this could very well end his own career. How could he allow a bright, young scientist like Jix to take such a risk as well? He declined.

“I know about the Council’s decision.” Jix insisted. “They’re wrong. Humans didn’t ask to be our wards when we kept them under Tanarac protection. It’s our responsibility to live by our code of ethics. Let me go with you, sir. Please.”

The doctor stopped walking in order to respond face-to-face with the young scientist.

“I admire your passion
,” he said. “And, I respect your idealism, but there is a good chance my effort will fail. When it is discovered how many rules I’ve breeched, I will be forced into retirement. I do not want it on my conscience that I destroyed your career too. So, really, it’s best if you—”

“I
have no career!” Jix raised his voice. “If the humans are terminated, my so-called career is over. This is all I’ve wanted to do with my life since the first time I read about human gene regeneration problems. I know I can solve these DNA anomalies. I can succeed where . . .” He trailed off awkwardly.