Read The Chronicles of Amon book 1 LINK Page 13

Chapter 13.

  “We bring you greetings, fellow Seeders! Be welcome in our system.” The feminine voice sounded strained, as though she was having difficulty speaking.

  Zuri was unsure what she should say.

  “Uh . . . thank you. On behalf of my people I accept your greeting. I . . . we are delighted . . . and somewhat overwhelmed to be here.”

  “You are the first we have seen in some time. Only recently did we learn of your eminent arrival. On behalf of my people I offer you our hospitality. Will you join us?” As she said this, a section of the spacecraft opened, revealing an interior not unlike the shuttle bay on the Brighid.

  “Thank you. Yes. We accept your offer.”

  “Most excellent! Do you require assistance in maneuvering?”

  Zuri looked to her pilot. Asha, wide-eyed and mouth agape, shook her head.

  “Uh . . . no . . . thank you. We can manage.”

  “Excellent! Please note; our gravity field is slightly less than what you are accustomed to; but only a few percentage points. It should not present a problem.”

  “Thank you again,” Zuri motioned toward her pilot. The INS and accelerometer screens on Asha’s console came back up. They felt a slight shudder as Link released control of the shuttle. Asha took a deep breath and gently manipulated the joystick.

  Everyone sat quietly in their seats, eyes glued to their monitors.

  “Look there. Up on top of the ship,” said Chetan. “Don’t those look like the bumps we saw on the Link craft?”

  “Sure do! They’re a lot smaller, though. But I don’t see any needles.” Wasswa panned her camera back toward the Link craft so she could compare. “Holly cow! Take a look at Link! It’s completely changed! No needles; no bumps, either. What the heck happened?”

  “If I may interject,” the masculine Link voice said. “What you see is not the same craft that sent you here. The craft that you first encountered has a mission-specific configuration which allows it to transport itself. By contrast, I cannot. I must remain here.”

  “Then how did you get here?” asked Zuri.

  “I was transported here the same as you. My exterior dimensions are slightly smaller than the interior of the one that sent you. Thus it was able to transport me here. For now, please allow this explanation to suffice.”

  The Link transmission ended just as the shuttle entered the bay of the alien craft.

  The interior of the bay didn’t look much like the ones they were used to. It was much larger and seemed to glow a soft red color. Windows lined three of its four walls. Behind each window stood groups of people, watching the shuttle as it moved deeper into the bay.

  Zuri saw that most of the faces appeared completely human, with typical minor racial variations. Some, however, were markedly different. Some had much more facial hair. Some had protruding brow ridges and lower jaws. On others the differences weren’t so pronounced. They reminded her of some of the drawings she had seen in textbooks. She wondered if these faces were actual representations of evolution in process.

  As the shuttle cleared the entry threshold, the doorway closed and a yellow line appeared on the floor. Without Asha’s help, the shuttle centered itself over the top of the line and began following it.

  “I’ve lost control here!” said Asha. “What do we do now?”

  “Don’t be concerned. The ship’s marshalling program has been engaged. It will guide your vehicle to its proper location.”

  To the left and right of them, dozens of other vehicles were parked in neat rows. Each vehicle sat inside its own yellow square. Mooring lines secured the vehicle to the deck.

  The line ended at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to a large windowed bulkhead. Without Asha’s assistance, the throttles eased back and the craft settled to a gentle touchdown inside its own yellow square. The engines shut down automatically when the craft made contact with the deck. The line they had been following disappeared as the glow in the room switched from red to yellow, and then after only a minute or two, to green.

  “Welcome aboard, fellow Seeders!” came the voice over the speakers. The door at the top of the stairs opened. A tall, gray-skinned female figure walked forward, flanked on the left by an even taller black-skinned male. On her right, another female, not nearly as tall,but just as gray-skinned, carried a small box-shaped container. As the three descended the stairs, Zuri opened the shuttle door and stepped down onto the deck. The other ship’s captains followed. The two groups approached to within a few paces of each other. The tall female stepped forward, as did Zuri.

  “On behalf of all the Seeders of Cygnus 5, be welcome. This is a joyous occasion for us all.” The woman in the center said as she stopped before them. In unison, the three of them bowed. Not knowing what else to do, Zuri and the others did likewise.

  With another shallow bow, the tall female said: “I am Catriona, President by the will of the people. May I present my counsellors?” Gesturing to her left. . . .”This is Calehar, my first counsellor.” The tall male clasped his hands over his chest and nodded. “And this is Doireann, my second counsellor.” Instead of bowing, the shorter female stepped forward, extending the container toward Wasswa, who stood to Zuri’s left. “Be welcome, sister.” Wasswa bowed and stepped forward to accept the offering. “Thank you.” The counsellor stepped back and together the three of them bowed again, this time more deeply.

  “I am Zuri; senior command officer, also by the will of the people. These are our ship’s captains: Asha, captain of the Interloq . . . Imamu, captain of the Sequum . . . Chetan,captain of the Venure . . . and Wasswa, captain of the Sauda.” Each bowed as their name was called. “Our fifth ship’s captain, Evander, sends his regrets. He remains behind to oversee the fleet in our absence.” Gesturing toward the shuttle, “Also, we have brought with us a few representatives of the populations on each of our ships.”

  “You are all welcome here.” Catriona gestured toward the people standing at the still-open shuttle door. Then, turning toward the windows around the shuttle bay; “Come, all of you! Come meet our new sisters and brothers!”

  The shuttle and its occupants were soon surrounded by the people of Cygnus 5. Smiling, shaking hands and embracing, the two cultures easily intermingled.

  After a few minutes, Catriona led Zuri and the others back up the stairs and into the ship.

  “You’re the first we’ve met in over a year,” Catriona said as the two leaders walked together.

  “Only a year? It’s been generations between contacts for us.” Zuri was astonished.

  “Yes . . . it was once that way for us too. But that was long ago . . . before the Procurators made themselves known to us.”

  “Procurators? Who are they?”

  “Yes,” the president chuckled softly. “Yes. I’m sorry. Sometimes its easy to forget. The things we do here on a regular basis are really quite commonplace for us. Sometimes we fail to remember what it was like when we were new like you. Please let me try to explain. This is all very much like a gigantic business . . . no, that’s not the right term. It’s more like a huge benevolent enterprise. People don’t get hired and fired like in a business. We don’t get paid, either. But sometimes we do get promotions.”

  Zuri was confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve only been president for a few months. I’ve seen others give this presentation many times before. But its not as easy as I thought it would be giving it myself. You see, we are all engaged in the same activity. That is . . . we’re all Seeders. Some of us are newer at it than others.” Zuri nodded her understanding.

  “The Procurators are what you might call administrators. They’ve been at this for a very long time and they’re very experienced; where we . . . you and I . . . are relatively new and don’t really have a good feel for how the system works.”

  Zuri was still confused, but nodded her encouragement.

  “It’s like we’re down here
among the trees, doing what we need to do. But because we are where we are, we can’t see the big picture. We need someone above who can see the whole forest.” She looked down at Zuri who still looked somewhat confused.

  “I know its a cheap metaphor, but its the best comparison I can come up with. You might say we’re down here in this valley planting trees because that’s our job. And when we’re done here, its also our job to go somewhere else and plant more trees. But do we just climb the hill and go down into the next valley? What if it’s already been planted? What if the soil over there is barren? After all, its a big forest . . . and there aren’t enough of us to cover the whole place. I suppose we could just wander around down here forever. Eventually we might get the job done. But wouldn’t it be better if there was someone who could see the whole place? Someone who could guide and direct us so we’d work more efficiently? That’s what the Procurators do. They’re the supervisors . . . the administrators.”

  “This galaxy is like a huge forest. Huge beyond our wildest imaginations. We’d just never get the job done without Procurators there to keep track of what’s going on . . . to keep things organized.”

  “This all seems to make sense. And I like the ‘top-down’ approach you’re using. Helps us see how we fit into the whole scheme of things, at least from an altruistic perspective. As Link said, apparently we meet the requirements for entry into the club. We’re not without our faults. But I think overall our good qualities outweigh our bad ones.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation. By the way; would you like to take a break . . . take some time to absorb all of this?”

  “Not me. But maybe the others. . . .”

  Catriona stopped and turned toward the group that was following.

  “Everyone . . . please feel free to wander about as much as you want. I know our citizens will be more than happy to answer any questions you may have. Let’s meet in the central hall in, say, two hours. OK?” Turning back to Zuri, she directed them to a set of double doors. The sign above read ‘REINTEGRATION.’ Pausing at the doors, Catriona said, “When you arrived, you probably noticed several people who didn’t look quite like everyone else.”

  “Yes. They appeared to be more simian than human.”

  “That’s true, at least as far as appearance is concerned. These people were brought here as representatives of various planets within this sector. Physically, they’re thousands of years behind us. But mentally they’re our equals.”

  “I don’t understand. How can that be? Our five races share a similar evolution, and none of what you describe has ever been observed, either from fossil records or from recorded history. It’s our understanding that our physical development kept pace with our intellect . . . that they both developed together. We believe that the needs of the one drove the development of the other.”

  “Ah! you’ve gotten to the meat of the issue, haven’t you?” Catriona said as she held the door open for Zuri.

  “We thought the same thing for generation after generation. The question always perplexed us: How was it possible that we humans developed what we refer to as ‘enlightened self-awareness,’ while our closest genetic relatives, the higher simians, didn’t? After all, our genes are over 99 percent identical. We could never come up with any evidence to explain the disparity.”

  Zuri stopped them just inside the door. “We had the same problem . . . still do, for that matter. Science and theology seem to be continually at odds with one another.”

  Catriona motioned them toward some chairs.

  “Well, we don’t claim to have THE answer; but we do have lots of evidence to support both schools of thought. Let’s sit here for a minute so I can lay the groundwork for what you’re about to see.”

  As they sat down, Catriona pulled a small metal container from one of her pockets. opening it, she said:

  “Won’t you try one? These are what we usually ingest for sustenance.

  Zuri took one and put it in her mouth. It dissolved immediately.

  “Hum . . . not bad. Actually, I don’t taste a thing.”

  “Yes.” Catriona took one too. “We all ingest these several times a day, although one is actually all our bodies require.”

  “Don’t you eat solid food?”

  “Oh yes. But usually only in the evenings when we’re at home with our families, or on special occasions like this one. Tonight we’re having a grand banquet in your honor. Tomorrow we’ll all be a bit sluggish until the bulk clears our systems.”

  “What a great idea! Must save lots of time and resources.”

  “Yes it does. I think the reason we eat bulky items at all is for our intestines’ sake, but also for tradition. It’s a time for sharing and enjoying one another’s company.”

  “Yes. We should all do more of that.” Zuri was feeling much more relaxed as she recognized the similarities between their cultures.

  “Anyway, back to the subject. In our early, pre-space flight cultures, most theologians professed that we appeared on our individual planets as full-blow, fully functional humans. They claimed the Creator put us here. The skeptics (Mostly academics and members of the scientific community) claimed there was no evidence to support such beliefs. Even as we went into space, the arguments persisted.”

  “But then the Seeders came along. Suddenly we had to re-think our long-held beliefs. What we began to discover was that there really was no disparity between the two philosophies. In fact we realized that they were mutually complimentary. Ask yourself this question: Is there really a God? No one can say for sure. There just isn’t any tangible proof one way or the other. But!” she emphasized, “The Seeders believed there was. The Procurators believed there was. And the Links SAID there was. How could we argue with that? Believe me, many tried. The believers and the skeptics finally realized they had one common dilemma. Neither could explain the existence of Links. They couldn’t fathom the technology. So, they asked the Seeders how they worked. The Seeders didn’t have a clue. They asked the Procurators. Same answer. So, the next and only other option was to ask the Links. I’ll bet you can guess what the response was.”

  “It has ever been so.” Zuri smiled.

  “Yup! So there we were, back where we started . . . except not quite. We were about to become Seeders. We were about to ‘seed’ intelligence throughout the galaxy. Were we becoming ‘as the Creator’? Were we that smart? Not hardly. We were ‘seeding’ using technology no one knew anything about; and we were traveling about inside these LINK machines that used a technology we couldn’t begin to understand.”

  “So we studied and we probed. Eventually we learned some incredible stuff. Soon you’ll learn the same things. We never could prove or disprove the existence of a supreme being. All we really knew for sure was that ‘seeding’ worked and that the Links worked. We thought we knew the ‘why,’ but still didn’t have a clue about the ‘how.’ Ultimately the question became moot. We just had to go on doing what we believed to be the right thing and accept the fact that we don’t have all the answers.”

  “Sounds awfully familiar. We have the same struggles.” Zuri paused for a moment as she considered how to ask the question that was nagging at her. “So, what do you believe?”

  Catriona turned to face Zuri squarely.

  “I speak to you now person to person, not in any official capacity,” she emphasized. “I believe there is a Creator. I believe he (or she) does what he does for his own reasons, and that he uses whatever tools he needs to accomplish his goals. I believe we, as Seeders, are some of those tools.”

  “Are you suggesting that we’re being manipulated?”

  “I wouldn’t call it manipulation. I prefer to call it persuasion. Stop and think about it. Whenever you’re contemplating doing or saying something, doesn’t your sense of right and wrong influence your decision?”

  “Certainly. But sometimes I do something even though down in my gut I don’t feel right about it.?
?? Zuri knew she was treading on thin ice discussing such a sensitive personal issue with a relative stranger.

  “Me too,” Catriona was smiling now. “But I don’t think I’m any different from anyone else. I think we’re all prone to make bad decisions from time to time. But if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll feel some regret or remorse for having made that decision. And its that gut feeling, that conscience that’s the key to this discussion.”

  Zuri felt compelled to respond. “ I agree. It’s that sense of right and wrong that sets us apart from so-called lower life forms. How else could we have gotten this far in our evolution? If we’d have been totally self-centered, we would never have had the courage to take that first step into the unknown. It’s that willingness to take a risk, to take a leap of faith that makes all the difference. When we do the right thing, even when there is risk involved, we are approaching the divine.”

  “Precisely! Remember what the Link said? ‘You have been tried and found worthy.’

  “Zuri was surprised Catriona knew about that. “How did you know what he said?”

  Catriona chuckled. “That’s the same message everyone gets. The Links say they were made by ‘the Creator.’”

  “Wait a minute! You said ‘the Links’! How many of those things are there?”

  “Who knows? Thousands? Maybe millions. But we’ll get to that later. The point is; the Links claim they were built by the Creator. That must include their programming, too. Admittedly, they’re pretty sophisticated programs. But they are not completely autonomous. Their discretionary abilities and their responses are limited. So I don’t think it was they who decided to invite us to join the club, so to speak.”

  “How about these ‘procurators.’ Maybe they were the ones.”

  “I don’t think so. We’ve asked them, and they deny involvement. I think they may have some input. But I don’t think they make the final decision.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Well, I’m not positive. But they’ve never given me a reason to doubt them. They’ve been doing this for longer than any of our recorded histories can track. And what they’re doing is good, right?”

  “So far as I can tell, yes. But I’ve never met one.” Zuri was starting to feel a bit defensive.

  “I understand. But you’ll get your chance. In the mean time, let’s continue the tour. I’m confident you’ll feel better about all this when you see the ‘program’ in process.”

  They stood and walked toward a sign hanging on the other side of the hall. The top of the sign had two arrows, one pointing left and the other right. Below the right arrow were three words in columns:

  COUNSELING

  ORIENTATION

  DEBRIEFING

  Below the left arrow:

  MISSION UPLOAD

  CLEARING

  Catriona gestured to the right. “We won’t spend a lot of time in this department, but it’s important for you to get a feel for how all this works. The ‘Reintegration’ department is actually the last stop in the process. Don’t worry. It’ll all be clear soon enough.”

  They entered through the door marked COUNSELING. Inside, the room was dimly lit and quite small (Only a few dozen square feet). There were no furnishings; just neutral-colored walls. In the far wall was a horizontal rectangular window at eye level. They moved closer.

  The room beyond was dimly lit. Zuri could make out the outline of a bed. On it lay what looked like one of the ape creatures she had seen in the shuttle bay.

  “Before I explain what’s going on here, I need to give you a little background. The ‘seeding’ process is really not as complicated as you might think. But there are some pretty strict criteria for determining which planet gets selected.

  “First of all, obviously, the planet must be able to support human life. You’d be surprised how many planets fit that requirement but don’t get selected. Usually it’s because there’s just too much competition for resources, in other words . . . food. Predation is usually the cause. That problem usually works itself out over time, though; anywhere from a few thousand to several million years.

  “But we’re spread pretty thin around this galaxy. We can’t afford to hang around that long waiting to see how things work out. In cases such as this, we evaluate where the planet is in the typical evolutionary cycle, and then make predictions as to when we should come back. But like I said; the galaxy is a big place. Sometimes things just fall through the cracks, so to speak.”

  “That doesn’t seem quite fair, does it?” Zuri said as she watched through the window. Two other figures entered the room through a door Zuri couldn’t see from where she stood. Both of them walked fully upright, but were covered head to toe in hair. They positioned themselves on each side of the bed and stood there quietly. The figure on the bed stirred slightly but remained prone. One of the figures began stroking the prone figures head. The other held its hand gently.

  “Maybe not. But then again, life in general isn’t always fair. There are other factors, too . . . like the stability of the system the planet is part of . . . neighboring planets with wobbly orbits . . . to many debris fields in the vicinity. Maybe the systems star, or sun, is unstable. Maybe the magnetic field is unstable. Or maybe it’s just too crowded in the neighborhood . . . to much potential for outside interference.”

  “You mean people visiting from other planets?”

  “Yup. I know you’ve never experienced this, but there ARE space-faring civilizations out there that never get selected to become seeders. Generally it’s because their technology gets developed faster than their capacity for self-restraint.”

  “That’s surprising! We always assumed any civilization capable of interplanetary space flight had outgrown that.”

  “Usually that’s the case . . . but sadly, not always. It usually works itself out in the long run, though. Mostly they end up destroying themselves.”

  Zuri nodded her understanding, thinking back on the history of her own planet.

  “Anyway . . . once a planet is selected for seeding, we try to do it discretely. But sometimes we get caught. We’re not perfect, you know. It doesn’t happen very often. But when it does, it can cause all sorts of problems. Can you imagine how traumatic it would be for the ‘seedee’ to witness what we’re doing? It’s hard enough coming to grips with your own new-found self-awareness. But then add to that the knowledge that there is something or someone else out there for which you have no frame of reference.”

  “I can’t imagine. . . .”

  “I like to compare it to meeting a LINK for the first time, only orders of magnitude more traumatic.”

  “I guess I see what you mean. It was pretty scary for us. But at least we’d had some experience in meeting other cultures in space. Our brains were sorta used to that sort of thing.”

  Catriona nodded and continued.

  “That simian you see there on the table recently experienced something similar to what I’ve described. He saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. But he didn’t loose control or anything like that. Instead, he managed to get our attention somehow.

  “When that sort of thing happens, we have a couple of choices. We can ignore him. But that usually doesn’t work out too well, because then he goes around telling all his friends what he saw. Sometimes they think he’s nuts. Or sometimes he gains a ‘following’ and we end up seeing their culture taking a wrong turn into cultism or weird religious practices. That sort of thing can get pretty ugly.

  “Usually what we end up doing is grabbing him and bringing him up here for some orientation. That can get pretty complicated, so we try to calm his fears at the same time we satisfy his curiosity. That’s what those two in there are doing now. When he wakes, he’ll be in the company of individuals of his own kind. At least that’s what it looks like to him.”

  “What do you mean? Are those two in there just dressed up to look like him?”

  “Literally speaking, no . . . they’re not ‘dres
sed up.’ They’ve been genetically altered so they resemble members of his race at his particular stage of development.”

  Zuri’s mouth dropped open. “What?” She took a step back. “What did you say? You mean you can . . .?”

  “Yes. It’s actually a pretty common practice.” Catriona placed a soothing hand on Zuri’s shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but bear with me. It’ll all become clear soon.” Facing back toward the window, she continued.

  “What sets Seeders apart from non-seeders is actually pretty simple. Essentially, what we have that the others don’t is access to an enormous amount of gene research and advanced technology. A lot of it we don’t really understand because we didn’t develop it. Even the Procurators don’t know a lot more than we do.

  “Just consider the evolutionary process for a moment. We both know that species-specific changes take place over time, right?” Zuri closed her mouth and swallowed.

  “Usually these changes take place over very long time periods . . . say, thousands of years. But sometimes it doesn’t take that long . . . sometimes as little as a few generations. Some animals undergo major changes in appearance or behavior after relatively short periods of contact with humans. You’ve probably seen that in certain quadrupeds on your home planet.

  “What we’re able to do, if we have enough information about a species’ genome, is speed up the process . . . or even reverse it. Those two in there have undergone that process just so they can assist the patient as he comes to grips with his new reality. When that’s done, we reverse the process so the two ‘helpers’ return to their original appearance.”

  Zuri slumped to the wall, placing a hand to her forehead.

  “Can we go some place and sit down for a minute? I need some time to digest all of this.”

  “Sure. Let’s go down to DEBRIEFING. They won’t be using that room for a while yet. There’s some chairs we can use.”

  As they walked, Catriona continued.

  “It surely must be stressful for anyone to wake up in a strange place and not know how they got there. And then to realize they’ve been taken completely away from their home world and everything that’s familiar, and placed in a spaceship . . .! Without some sort of intervention, the average person from a technologically primitive culture would likely have a psychotic break. It’s not even uncommon for more advanced cultures to have similar reactions. If that happens, the chances are high our seeding efforts will have been in vain. Under the right circumstances whole populations can be negatively effected, especially if the traumatized individual is in a position of influence within his community.”

  The DEBRIEFING room was much larger and brightly lit, with seating to accommodate a dozen or more people. The rear wall had a double door in it’s center. Tall storage cabinets flanked it and filled the remainder of the wall.

  The other three walls were covered by large computer screens, all of which were blank at the moment. A long table separated the front of the room from the rows of chairs.

  As they entered, Catriona gestured toward a chair.

  “Can I get you anything? Perhaps some water?”

  “That’d be nice, but I think I need to use the ‘facilities’ first.”

  “Sure! Go through those doors there and turn left. It’s right there.”

  “Thanks.” Zuri said and headed in that direction.

  Sitting alone in the restroom, she tried to digest what she had heard. She had gotten somewhat used to the whole idea of seeding. And it made sense that the evolutionary process would be influenced by lots of situations. But for there to be only one sentient species out of all the creatures on any given planet had always left her with nagging questions.

  She thought she understood how the process of natural selection worked. Survival of the fittest . . . adapt or die. These ideas made perfect sense. Of the five cultures she had been involved with, only one species in each of them had thrived? Always it was the humans. Why was it them and not some other species?

  It all came back to the age-old question: Who am I and why am I here? The ‘evolutionists’ had some of the answers. But the ‘missing link’ issue always left her hanging. For that matter, so did the ‘theist’ approach. Religions always seemed to fall short when it came to reconciling archaeological evidence with doctrine. ‘Seeding’ seemed to provide the answers. Of that she felt confident. As to the ‘hows’ and ‘whys.’. .that was what she hoped to learn here.

  When Zuri came back into the room, Catriona was sitting on the front row.

  “Here’s your water.”

  “Thanks.” She took the cup that was offered and sat down.

  “Feeling any better? Here. Try one of these.” Catriona held out a small plate of what looked like miniature green carrots. Zuri picked one and took a tentative bite. Immediately her mouth was filled with a pleasant, warming sensation. As she chewed, the sensation grew until it seemed to fill her whole body.

  “Wow! This is really . . . different. What do you call it.?”

  “We call it ‘greff.’ It’s a mild narcotic some geneticist put together in a lab long ago. It’s supposed to sooth the nerves . . . help you relax. How do you like it?”

  “It’s good!” She took a bigger bite. This time the whole-body sensation didn’t happen; just a mild tingling on the tip of her tongue.

  Noting Zuri’s obvious surprise, Catriona chuckled.

  “Really wild, huh? They say when it was first developed, the effect continued with each bite. Pretty soon it got out of hand. So the geneticists modified it so the effect only works in the presence of a certain amount of stress hormones. It’ll wear off in a minute or two.”

  “Uh-huh. How does it work?”

  “It’s a chemical thing. Supposedly it homes in on the hormones. When the stress levels go down, it quits working. Most of us don’t bother with it much after the first try. After a while it sorta becomes anticlimactic. Now we use it mostly in COUNSELING. Helps our new friends to cope with stress.

  “Mmm.” Zuri took a drink of water and put the remainder of the ‘carrot’ back on the plate.

  “Anyway, back to what we were discussing. We like to reassure our patients as much as possible by providing something familiar to them. Since we can’t reproduce their home environment here, we do the next best thing. We provide them with someone they recognize. That and the greff helps to keep the stress levels under control.”

  “OK. I get all that. But what do you do with them once they’ve been ‘de-stressed,’ just put them back where you found them?”

  “Absolutely not! If we ‘de-stress’ him (to use your words) and then put him back in the population, he’ll tell everyone what happened. Pretty soon everyone is in the same shape he was. That completely disrupts everything. We want these budding civilizations to develop naturally. We don’t want their knowledge of our existence to disrupt everything. We’ve found there are only two ways to effectively deal with it. One: we invite the person to stay with us. That usually doesn’t work out too well when he discovers he’s all alone in a world of strangers and he learns his two new ‘friends’ aren’t really who they say they are. Two; and this is the one we’ve had the most success with. We offer him the opportunity to work with us. He gets to go back to his people with the agreement that he keeps our existence a secret.”

  “But how can you be sure he won’t break the agreement? Sounds like an awfully big gamble trusting him to keep his word.”

  “That’s very true; but we can be pretty persuasive.” Zuri raised her hand to interrupt.

  “No, it’s not what it sounds like. We don’t use threats or coercion. We actually make him an integral part of the program. We teach him all we know about the seeding process as it applies to him and the reasons for doing it. We provide a mechanism he can use to communicate with us, one which only he knows about and only he can use. We give him a set of protocols he can use to help guide his peoples’ development. And most importantly, we encourage h
im to keep us informed on how things are going. We listen to what he has to say, and, if he asks, we sometimes offer suggestions that might be helpful.”

  “But still, that doesn’t guarantee he won’t betray you for his own selfish gains.”

  “That’s very true. But we have other things we can do to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  “What are you talking about! Mind control?!” Zuri was alarmed by the implications.

  “Not in the sense you’re suggesting.” She could see Zuri was noticeably uneasy about the subject.

  “I want to assure you we never interfere with a person’s right to decide for himself. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain this. Let me get someone in here who’s better at it.” Catriona pulled a personal com unit from her pocket and pressed a few buttons. An unfamiliar voice answered. “Hi, Cat. What can I do for you?” It was a jovial-sounding male voice.

  “Hey, Al. Can you come over to DEBRIEF? I need your help explaining something to one of our guests.”

  “Sure! Give me a minute to finish up here and I’ll be right over. Bye.”

  Catriona put the PCU back in her pocket.

  “Al is one of our best geneticists. He came to us about five years ago as part of an exchange program with the Perseus Division.”

  “What’s the Perseus Division?” asked Zuri.

  “Sorry. I keep forgetting you’re new here and aren’t up to speed on all the terminology. Just a minute. Let me pull up a galactic map.”

  She walked over to the lectern on the center table and activated one of the screens. An image of a spiral galaxy appeared. In its center was a black dot. Lines extended from the dot outward, splitting the view into twelve pie-shaped segments. Four concentric circles equally spaced from the galactic center, further divided the segments. Five of the segments to the left of the center were highlighted in blue. Six of the remaining seven segments were a neutral gray color. The twelfth segment, adjacent to the lowermost blue one, was highlighted in yellow. Catriona touched a red dot in the outermost section of the top blue segment using a pointer. The dot began to pulsate.

  “This is us here in the Cygnus segment.”

  Pointing to a pulsating green dot in the lowermost blue segment, she said, “This is Perseus fourteen. Al’s home planet is the fourth orbit out from its sun.” She tapped the screen again and the view zoomed in to reveal a solar system with eight planets in orbit around a star.

  “Where are we? I mean, where are my ships on this map?” said Zuri.

  Catriona tapped the yellow segment.

  “You’re about here in the Orion System, pretty close to this third arc segment. It’s colored yellow because exploration has only just begun.”

  “What about the gray ones?”

  “Those haven’t been explored yet. Like I said before, this is a big place. We’re trying to get it all covered one segment at a time.”

  “So, how did you find us?” Zuri walked closer to the map where she saw many smaller red dots equally spaced inside the blue segments.

  “The little red dots are LINKS. One of them picked up your radio signals. We tasked two more to triangulate and sent one to intercept your projected course. Actually, it wasn’t ‘us’ exactly. The Procurators. . . .”

  Just then the door to the left opened and a short balding man waddled in.

  “Ah! Zuri, this is Alger. He’s about the best in his field.” The smiling man held his hands to his chest and gave a shallow bow. Zuri extended her hand, then remembering, dropped it to her side and bowed also. “Sorry. I’m not used to your customs yet.”

  “Not at all,” he smiled. Turning to Catriona, “What can I do for you?”

  “We were just discussing some freedom of choice issues. Zuri voiced concern that we might be compelling ‘newbees’ to do what we want them to do.”

  “Oh my, no! That would never happen.” He chuckled as he motioned them toward the chairs. “Why don’t we sit and relax for a while. This might take a few minutes.” He shuffled over to a chair, slumped onto one and interlaced his fingers over his ample abdomen. His small feet barely touched the floor.

  “I see you’ve noticed our marked difference in appearance,” he smiled. “You see, gravity on my home planet is almost one-fifth more than on Cygnus five. That means my people are built a little closer to the ground. Makes it kinda uncomfortable some times.” He smiled again and shifted his weight in the chair.

  “You might be wondering what genetics has to do with free will. Well actually, not much. You see, in addition to being a geneticist, I’m also very much into nano-science and technology. I’ll try to get to the point without explaining all the technical stuff.

  “You see, it’s all about chemistry, really. Lets consider the concept of ‘stimulus-response’ for a moment. As an example, the brain sends a signal to the hand.” He held up his hand and wiggled his chubby fingers. “How does that signal get transmitted? Simply stated, it sends an electrical signal. Brain says ‘wiggle,’ fingers say ‘OK.’

  Zuri smiled as he continued. She was really enjoying listening to this little man.

  “It’s a pretty good distance from the head to the fingers. Even further to the toes.” He raised a foot and wiggle it.

  “Well, electricity isn’t too concerned with distance. It gets around pretty quick. In the brain the distances are even smaller, right?” Zuri nodded again.

  “But electricity needs to be made before the brain can send it anywhere, right? And how does it get made? Simply stated, it’s a bi-product of a chemical reaction. See, two chemicals get together and make some electricity. Then they tell it where to go and send it on it’s way. You might say its a kind of messenger, OK? Well, chemicals are good messengers too. They just don’t get around as fast.

  “So, back to the brain. You know what a neuron is, right? I like to call it the place where some very special chemicals hang out. And these neurons are really, really close together. At such small distances, chemicals are just as efficient at getting around as electricity . . . usually even more-so ‘cause they can smell each other when they’re close by. So why bother making a spark and giving it instructions if you can just as easily do the job yourself? So, what does all this have to do with free will? That’s where nano-technology comes in.

  “Let’s say your brain wants you to wiggle your fingers . . . but instead you wiggle your toes. Somehow the message got routed wrong, right? Well, that just won’t do. There are lots of folks who have wiring problems very much like what we’ve described; epileptics, or autistics, for example. Makes it really hard for them to get along in the world.

  “Essentially it’s caused by a chemical imbalance. You know what I mean? Well, we now have nano-machines that can help people with problems like that. These little machines know what chemicals are supposed to be there. So when the wrong chemical shows up, the machines block it and send the right one in its place. Now the finger does what it’s told and the problem never manifests.

  “But what about the poor toe? Did it want to wiggle, but wasn’t allowed? I know it’s a silly question. But it serves to illustrate my point, which is: free will never came into play. The right thing was done, and you never had to deal with a right verses wrong issue.”

  Catriona picked up the conversation.

  “In a nut shell, that’s what we do with ‘newbees.’ We teach them the right thing to do and make sure they understand and agree. Then we inject nano-machines that are specifically programmed to block any chemical interactions that would allow a wrong decision to be made in a certain context. They only work under very specific circumstances. They don’t interfere with any decision making processes other than ones which would lead the ‘newbee’ to expose us or anything related to the seeding process. This insures that the natural evolutionary process within his community continues unimpeded.

  “Fair enough.” Zuri raised a hand in emphasis. “But that brings up a major question. What keeps you from making a nano-machine that deliberately sends the
wrong chemical?”

  Alger raised a finger in response. “That’s the big question, isn’t it? If you hadn’t asked, I would have been worried. First off, we don’t build the machines ourselves. Our expertise isn’t that advanced. That’s one of the things the Procurators do. We don’t even have final say over when the machines get used. We have input in the decision-making process, but the final decision is made way further up the chain of command.

  “I know this explanation is grossly oversimplified. There’s a lot more involved, though. And we can discuss this more at length if you want to. For now if you’ll allow us, we’ll show you the rest of the process so you can put all of this in proper context.”

  The three of them stood and walked back toward the door. As they re-entered the hallway, Zuri decided to ask a question that had been nagging at her.

  “I need to ask you something.” She turned toward Catriona. “What do you do if a ‘newbee’ decides she doesn’t want anything to do with this? Maybe some people just don’t want to accept that sort of responsibility.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” said Catriona, “although I’ve never heard of it happening. Humans are a curious lot, you know. But if that case were to present itself, there is something we can do.”

  Zuri frowned as she considered the implications of what Catriona said.

  “I see that doesn’t sit well with you.” Catriona smiled. “Believe me. It’s not as terrible as it sounds. Al, would you like to answer this one?”

  “Sure!” Alger smiled. “This gets into an area of nano-technology that we’re only just now beginning to explore. It has to do with what I like to call ‘chemical memory’“.

  Catriona squeezed Zuri’s arm and drew her gently closer.

  “Listen to this,” she said softly. “He’s really good at this.”

  “Let’s get back into the brain for a minute, shall we?” He was now almost bubbling with excitement. “This is my favorite subject, by the way.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together as he began.

  “Neurons are wonderful things. They’re what you might call miniature manufacturing plants. Somehow, they know just what chemical needs to be sent in order to elicit a specific response from another neuron. That’s amazing enough. But what’s really incredible is . . . they make the chemicals themselves . . . right on the spot . . . almost instantaneously! And! They keep records of which chemicals they’ve made, transmitted and received. And this is the best part. They keep records of WHEN all this transpired!” He glanced toward Zuri who was still frowning.

  “Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly. “Sometimes I get carried away. What does this have to do with the subject at hand? When a ‘newbee’ decides he doesn’t want anything to do with the program, we send in the nanos. They’ve been specifically tasked to go to the appropriate neurons and search their records. When they’ve found the ones they’re looking for; in this case, the ones associated with the event of our making contact, they remove them. Then we send the ‘newbee’ home and he wakes up not remembering anything.”

  Zuri stopped in her tracks.

  “You’re telling me you can erase memories?” She was completely flabbergasted.

  “Essentially, yes.” He paused, surprised by her reaction. “Why? Does this bother you?”

  “Yes! It bothers me!” Zuri took a step back, raising her hands. “What you’re saying is that you engage in MIND CONTROL!”

  “I don’t think I’d call it that. . . .” Alger was now really concerned.

  “I don’t care what you call it!” Zuri pointed an accusing finger at him. “Messing with someone’s memory goes against every moral and ethical standard . . .!”

  Catriona stepped forward, trying to calm her.

  “I’m sorry! I think Al forgot to explain something, and it’s vital that you understand this,” she said pleadingly. “At NO time do we EVER do ANYTHING to ANYBODY without their full understanding and consent.”

  Zuri took another step back, this time pointing accusingly at them both.

  “That’s easy to say!” Her voice strained as she practically yelled at them. “But how would this ‘newbee,’ as you call him, even know that he’s been manipulated?”

  Catriona new she was loosing control of the situation. Desperately she searched for an appropriate response.

  “Zuri please! I see we haven’t been able to explain this clearly. The last thing we want to do is give you reason to doubt our integrity.” She looked pleadingly at Alger, then back to Zuri.

  “We must have overlooked something which is fundamental to your understanding of what we’re trying to say.”

  “You’d better say SOMETHING . . .!” Zuri’s fear was quickly turning to anger.

  Alger took a hesitant step forward, placing a hand on Catriona’s shoulder.

  “Maybe we should get a Procurator in on this.”

  “Yes. Yes. That’s a good idea. Let’s do that.” Looking pleadingly back to Zuri, she continued. “Would you allow us to do this? It will take a little while, though. There isn’t one on board at the moment. We can have one here very quickly.”

  “How quickly?” Zuri’s hand were clinched into fists at her sides.

  “Not long. Maybe just a few minutes.” Catriona was near panic herself. She turned to Alger.

  “Al. You know what needs to be done. Will you please?”

  “Of course.” He turned on his heel and hurried back into the Debrief room.

  Hands clasped in front of her, Catriona pleaded, “Zuri! Oh, Zuri. I’m so sorry! I’m still so new at this. I’ve never run into this before. I’m at a loss as to what I can do to make this right.”

  Zuri’s anxiety was being pushed to the limit.

  “If this is how you do SEEDING, I’m not sure we want anything to do . . .!”

  “No, no, no! That’s not it at all! We don’t manipulate! We only persuade! Our intentions are pure! Please. Give us a chance to clear this up.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized just how desperate the situation was.

  Zuri sensed the sincerity Catriona was trying to convey, but her mind raced as she tried to digest what she had heard.

  “OK. I’ll wait for one of these Procurators, as you call them. But this explanation better be convincing! Otherwise. . . .”

  Catriona’s PCU buzzed. She tapped it. “Go ahead.”

  Al responded.

  “Ardghal is en route from the surface. He’ll be docking in 7 minutes.

  “Oh, wonderful! We’ll head that way now. Thank you, Alger.” Catriona sighed with relief.

  “Oh, Zuri. You’ll just love Ardghal! He was the first Procurator I ever met. He was one of the first to open this galaxy for Seeding. Come! Let’s go back to the docking bay and wait for him.”

  Catriona reached out and took Zuri’s hand gently into her own. Zuri took a hesitant step, and then stopped.

  “Wait! You said he was one of the first? How long has this been going on here?”

  “I’m not really sure, but at least several thousand years.” Catriona was smiling eagerly as she guided Zuri back in the direction they had come.

  “Several thousand? How can that be? Are you people immortal?” Zuri sputtered as Catriona tugged her along.

  “Oh, my. No. Just wait. Ardghal will be anxious to meet you. He’ll answer all your questions. He’s just an amazing person. You will be a changed person after meeting him.”