himself and he quickly spoke, stammering, "Absolutely not, imperator. I was merely providing counsel."
"Of course."
Donovan stared at the cube a while longer and watched the indicators. They weren't illuminating rapidly as they so often did when the leader was in deep thought. He wondered if he should return to the door.
"Doctor," Caesar said, "I expect you to evaluate each possibility on its own merits. However a solution presents itself, I want you to put aside your prejudices."
"Of course, lord. The thought had not entered my mind." It truly hadn't.
Caesar paused and then said, softly, "And each possibility must be fully tested and vetted."
"Absolutely, imperator."
The emperor's famous paranoia persisted even in his present form. Donovan quickly remembered conversations tinged with fear and anger. A frail, old man pointing a crooked finger in the doctor's face, warning of severe retribution should his mind be pulled from his body and dispatched into the ether. Killed in the most sophisticated and technologically advanced manner possible.
That thought had entered his mind.
V
THE MESSENGERS
162 Years Before the End
The One peered into the tiny universe.
Specks of rock revolved around balls of gas. Its eye scanned millions of them. Billions.
There were points of interest, to be sure, but nothing that grabbed its attention. It hovered over no one world for longer than a microsecond. Then it saw something.
Like lying on the ground at the base of a tree, it looked up. From this one speck, branches stretched forward through time. It had found its goal.
The One looked along the trunk and each of the branches. Decisions were going to be made and reactions to those decisions would follow. A myriad of possibilities lie ahead for this one world. Nearly infinite, the will of life on this speck would shape so much.
It was excited. The limbs kept stretching and growing forward. Flowers grew at each turn and the paths were lined with leaves. Then it noticed that some branches came to tapered ends. The tips wept with sickness. Still, other limbs grew forward, so The One kept looking along its length. Then more branches ended. Thick, fiery tumors hung on the boughs and they grew no more. From the top of this world's tree where no vines reached, it looked back toward the beginning, dismayed that the branches would go no further.
The One scanned over them again and looked worriedly across the remainder of this collection of stones and stars. It saw no other trees. There were many "bushes," sure, as lesser life made their minor decisions to eat that thing or drink that water. But there were no leaps. With sentient life come great bounds in thinking and greater choices become available. The trees flourished. The will of living, thoughtful beings watered them. Without trees here, The One saw no purpose in remaining in this galaxy.
As it was about to withdraw, a thought occurred to it. It could intervene.
The One turned its head from the rock of interest and found another like it. It had a spindly collection of branches wreathing it and stretching forward in time. The wispy limbs of lesser animals. It would have no higher beings and therefore no tree growing thick through the ages. With a swift pinch, it grabbed seeds from the base of the large but stunted tree and deposited them on the other world. Immediately, a great trunk extended from the speck and shot into the future. Branches diverged and limbs reached out and into the darkness. Flowers blossomed and leaves unfurled.
The One was pleased.
Though the second tree was planted for insurance, it did notice that this new sapling was going to be deformed. It, too, had terminating branches in its future.
The One reached out of the universe and into another. There, it had groomed other trees and two tenders had helped them grow through harsh winters and long droughts.
With whispered instructions, The One set these beings on the first world it had found. Hopefully, this pair of workers could enable that tree to flourish.
They were without form and looking upon the plains of western Isinnia from a high peak. They were flooded with input. Sound, sight, scent … they reeled and basked all at once. Finally, one planted their feet on the rockface and gripped the side of a boulder.
"This … is different." It took the form of a man and spoke hesitatingly. He opened and closed his mouth, testing his jaw, and turned his head to look toward the lights of a nearby city. "There is something fragile about this life."
The other collapsed on the slope and turned toward the companion. It was like unto a woman and she gasped for air. "I do not understand."
"Slow." He reached for her and she brushed him away. She stood and wobbled when she became erect.
"Fragile, yes," she said. She looked at her hands and said, "Not like the others."
He took in a deep breath through his nose, pursed his lips and expelled it. "But the tree …"
"Yes," she said. "I can see it."
The One visited countless universes, searching for the results of sentient life. Decisions upon decisions, branching through eons … The One harvested these "trees," in a way, and was sustained by them. When guidance for their growth was needed, it set these tenders upon those worlds that the plant born of free will may become stronger and longer lasting.
The Messenger released the branch and his body became like a wisp. Visible yet not present. He smiled and looked to his companion, "I understand the allure of this one."
She did not respond. She was staring at the civilization below and narrowing her eyes. "I see shadows."
"Of the past? I see them also."
"No. Of the future." She shook her head and continued, "They are … thin. I cannot focus on them."
He squinted and then said, "Yes. A limitation of this realm?"
She accepted that as true and said, "The will of these beings is even more important now. Their decisions may make the future more visible to us."
He turned his head from side to side, as though he were trying to make out some distant, wavering image. "I see a great fire, as well."
"The end of humanity," she whispered.
He paused and then said, "What is your plan?"
She looked at him and said, "The One's plan, as always. To ensure the survival of life so the tree may grow."
He nodded and allowed his body to drift down the mountainside toward the city. She did the same as he said, "It will be done."
VI
BARAZ
162 Years Before the End
She entered the lab and tugged at a corner of her paper mask. She was guided to a table by Dr. Hikka, but she didn't listen to what he said. She was still mapping out strategies and plans in her mind.
"Dr. Baraz, a pleasure to meet you," one of the lab workers said.
That took her by surprise. She looked up and caught his eye. "Thank you," she said. "And I you." Too often, people forgot she was a doctor of genetics. "What do you have here?"
He moved aside and motioned to the clear tray. In a shallow bath of various chemicals, a human kidney lay. "This was created for a patient in Gerzeh."
"Using some of her kidney as the template?"
"Yes."
"And where did the stem cells come from?"
"Her own cord blood. When she was born, her mother had it stored."
Baraz nodded. "Very fortunate."
"Dr. Baraz, this way, please," the guide said.
Karin nearly told him to stop. She wanted to ask more questions but there was too much to do. "Yes. Thank you."
"Thank you, Dr. Baraz." The man returned to his work.
They passed by several other people working with microscopes and vials. A few had trays of organs, prodding at them and testing them with meters.
"The board members are waiting for you through here. They wanted a brief tour, too." He pushed open a door and they entered a stark white clean room. They shed their outer cellulose ga
rments and tossed them into an incinerator chute before washing their hands.
They exited into a hallway and passed multiple doors before reaching the conference room at the end. The guide stopped, clacked his heels together and bent slightly at the waist. "If there's anything else you require, please, summon me at once."
"I will. Thank you." The wiry man stalked off and Karin opened the door. Eight people were sitting aroung the table, chatting or reading. One man was nodding off.
"Finally," a woman said under her breath.
Karin shot her a look as she walked past. She stood at the head of the long table and put her case on the surface. "Is everyone ready?"
One man lifted his hand and said, "Why are we here? I don't mean the meeting but I mean here, in Doria, at one of our secondary labs."
Baraz inhaled deeply and looked at him directly, "I don't trust all of my people in Helicon."
The woman spoke again, "Paranoid?"
"For good reason." Karin opened her case and removed a stack of papers. "What I have in mind could be considered treason in Attica."
The board members glanced at each other before looking to their CEO. "And what do you have in mind, Ms. Baraz?"
She smiled and said, "This." She held up a printout of a news article. A picture of the Caesar was on one side and the headline read, "Tiberia Seeks Scientists for 'Life Extension Project.'"
"Oh," one board member said.
"Do you think there's anything to that?" another asked.
"I do."
Another said, "Didn't he just mean medicine or something?"
"I don't think so." Baraz organized her papers a bit more.
"If he needs new organs, we've got him covered." He turned to another