The Progenitor (4) “Change, Sir. For the purpose of change.” Zechor and the helmsman nodded in silent agreement. Rekex looked from Zechor to Thenesh and back to Zechor, truly bewildered. The beatific expressions on their faces told him they thought it the simplest and most amazing answer in the universe, and Rekex the densest being to ever live for not understanding. Neither of the command crew said anything for several moments, during which Rekex contemplated the beings in which he placed his trust and the safety of his ship and crew. They were staring at the imager like students after their first experience with amzatli leaves. Yes, he told himself. That is exactly of what this reminds me: being drugged. Mood swings, lowered inhibitions, lack of discipline. He immediately thought of Technician Hekten. Each of them had paid her a visit in Medical, presumably to receive a shot for their headaches, and afterward, each had displayed behaviors inconsistent with their personalities. She must have drugged us. But why? Commander Rekex knew of one way to find out. He returned to his console and punched up technician Hekten. When the aged Medical Technician’s face appeared on the screen, he saw that a change had taken place within her, as well. Nonetheless, he would put his question to her. “Technician, what did you administer to my crew when they visited Medical?” “Nothing more than a mild suppressor, Commander. Why do you ask?” “There were no psychotropic agents in the dosages you administered?” “No, Sir.” Hekten appeared incredulous at the implication. “I am a Technician, not a tyrant to control the minds of my subjects.” Rekex sensed the veracity of her words and the genuine shock the question created. “Thank you, Technician. I was merely pursuing a theory in regard to the behavioral changes that have overcome the crew. Has your research yielded any results? Have you any theories on the matter?” Hekten did not answer immediately. Instead, she turned away from the screen. To consult one of her readouts, Rekex assumed. When she again faced the screen, her features had relaxed into a beatific mask of serenity. “It is wonderful, is it not, Commander? The possibilities presented by this kind of technology are staggering.” “Technology? What . . . ?” Thenesh interrupted before Rekex could finish the question, however. “Yes. Technology. The device I mentioned is a remarkable piece of technology. The power it must possess in order to transmit a Theta wave across such distances. Which is to say nothing of the complexity of its frequency distribution. The level of sophistication the species who constructed it must enjoy is phenomenal.” “Is there any way we can retrieve this device and examine it more closely? Would the signals emanating from it disrupt the propulsion of a shuttle?” Zechor turned toward him, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. When it passed, she answered: “I do not believe so, Sir. None of the frequencies we have detected indicates any hostile or malicious intent. They are not designed to deactivate technology in such a manner.” Confusion delayed Rekex’s response. “How did you reach that conclusion, Adjunct?” “It is not a conclusion, Sir. I feel it.” Rekex felt annoyance bubbling up within him and he fought to suppress it. “You are willing to risk the consequences on an assumption, Adjunct?” “No, Sir. It is not an assumption; it is a fact.” Thenesh nodded eagerly, not bothering to take his eyes from the imager. Cetuc also nodded his agreement. Not seeing as further debate would accomplish anything, Rekex decided to trust his command crew in this. “Very well. Zechor, take a shuttle to the surface and retrieve the object. Thenesh, accompany her. If the signal alters in any way, you are to return to the ship immediately. Understood?” “Yes, Sir,” both officers answered in unison. Rekex studied the pair for a moment, uncertain if he was making the correct decision, but unable to see any alternative. “Good luck then.” As Zechor and Thenesh exited the command deck, Commander Rekex returned to his post, ordering Cetuc to do the same. As the replacement personnel assumed the vacated posts of his Adjunct and Science Officer, Rekex wondered what would happen next. Ó Zechor and Thenesh entered the lift together, keenly aware of what had transpired the last time they had ridden in the confined space. Zechor stood straight, her tail curved away from Thenesh around her right leg, staring at the running lights that pulsed above the door. Thenesh, hands clasped behind his back, gazed at his feet, attempting to appear preoccupied with his toe claws. When the lift came to a stop, the door irising open, Thenesh waited for Zechor to exit, then followed her into the shuttle hangar without so much as a sidelong glance. Focus is the key, Zechor reminded herself. Remain focused on your duty and you will not fall victim to your baser impulses again. Not that he had not enjoyed her rut with Thenesh; it had been pleasurable beyond words. The implications of a shipboard romance were such that she feared the damage it would do to her career. She planned to make Commander some day – soon, she hoped – and such a scandal would delay or derail her plans. She glanced at Thenesh as he checked the registry for the shuttle allocated for the landing. Perhaps, when the mission was over . . ., she began. No! It will not happen again! Thenesh is a colleague, nothing more. Having settled her internal debate, she felt certain there would be no incidents during the landing. “We have been assigned shuttle Zatezra, Adjunct. Shall we proceed the pre-flight sequence?” Thenesh asked, his voice level and impersonal. His sense of professional decorum had not suffered as much as Zechor’s had as a result of their coupling. He was finding it distracting to be so close to her after their shared experience, though. She was radiant female: strong, competent and intelligent. He would be a liar had he said he had never noticed her in that regard. Business at hand, Thenesh. No time for puerile pining. Concentrate on the mission. He glanced toward Zechor as she perused a hand-held reader on which the pre-flight list was displayed. To him, she appeared unfazed by the situation. His ridges flared. If she thought nothing of it, then he would not either. He returned his attention to his reader before Zechor noticed his attention. He need not have bothered attempting discretion, though: she noticed him watching her out of the corner of her eye. Noticed, and thrilled at the implication. Thenesh moved into the shuttle to complete the pre-flight list while Zechor remained on deck. He checked the sensors, attitude stabilizers, thrusters, shields, even weapons, though he doubted they would be needed. Not much chance of encountering a hostile force on a barren planet. His check complete, he activated the shuttle’s main engines. The ionic drive’s deep hum reminded him of why he joined the military in the first place: to explore the galaxy at close range. It also brought the immediate circumstances back into focus. “Pre-flight complete, Adjunct. Preparing for launch.” “Thank you, Science Officer.” Zechor, having completed the external check of the shuttle, passed through the hatch, tapped a sequence of keys on a pad mounted on the wall beside it, then assumed her seat beside Thenesh. Laying a claw on a button on the console before her, she contacted the command deck. “Shuttle Zatezra to Commander Rekex: pre-flight sequence complete. Preparing to launch.” “Shuttle Zatezra, you are cleared for launch. Safe journey.” “Thank you, Sir. Shuttle Zatezra out.” Zechor keyed in a sequence on her console. A second later the hangar’s external hatch began to slide apart. The black expanse of space, punctuated but myriad pinpoints of light appeared in the opening. Zechor watched the view expand and, as usual, marveled at how little of its vastness the Serenthi had been able to explore. Such a task could never be completed, she knew, yet the prospect of the attempt imbued her with an appreciation of how far the Serenthi had come already. Here they were, poised over a planet one hundred and fifty solar years from their home system and, as soon as the hatch completed its ponderous retraction, the shuttle would enter the space surrounding a planet no Serenthi had ever visited. She suddenly found herself becoming impatient with the hangar doors. She wondered if they could possibly move any slower. After what felt like several units, they disappeared into the bulkheads on either side of the opening and she turned to Thenesh, her ridges flushed and dimpled. “Take us out, Science Officer. Ahead, minimum thrust.” “Minimum thrust. Yes, Adjunct.” As the shuttle rose off the deck plating and began to inch its way forward, Zechor felt a tingle course through her body. “Here we go,” she breathed. The shuttle cleared the hangar doors and floated smoothly into the vacuum of space. Thenesh tapped in a series of numbers on his pad and nodded as the shuttle’s computer linked with the ship’s database. The grid pattern of the signal’s analysis appeared on his screen. He keyed in a second sequence, plotting the orbital entry and allowing the shuttle to coordinate with the ship’s computer to set them down near the signal’s source. Satisfied that the proper procedures were programmed, he pressed the automatic navigation key. As the shuttle curved in a wide arc, orienting itself to the entry window and began its descent to the planet’s surface, Thenesh returned to studying the signal. From their position in orbit, the signal’s strength had increased. Not significantly, but noticeably. Thenesh reasoned it would continue to increase as they drew closer and, though the ship’s sensors had been able to obtain an image of the object buried beneath the crater, he speculated it must enormous to produce such powerful emanations. Sensor scans from the ship showed a roughly cylindrical shape, composed of an alloy he could not readily identify but whose components were inconsistent with elements found in this region of the planet’s surface, approximately half a kilometer beneath the crater’s floor, placing it nearly three-quarters of a kilometer below the surface. The shuttle’s sensors had been unable to provide any further information thus far. The shuttle was programmed to land at the edge of the crater’s much eroded rim. From there Zechor and he would make their way into the crater proper of foot. Once they located the object, they would place ultrasonic pulse Progenitors around the site. Once initiated, ultrasonic waves would penetrate the layers of sediment, bounce off the object, allowing them to map its size and surface structure. Excavation of the artifact would proceed if it was determined to be of sufficiently small mass to transport aboard the shuttle. Should they discover it to be too large, additional shuttles would be dispatched to the surface to assist. Thenesh hoped that would not be necessary, however. Some part of him wished to be the one to discover and unearth the object, and to share credit with Zechor was bad enough, he certainly did not want to share it further with another shuttle crew. As the thought passed through his mind, he felt a momentary pang of shame that he would be so selfish. After all this was a momentous discovery. A discovery that had cost an entire civilization, an entire species, their lives. He knew he should be humbled in the face of that fact. He just could not bring himself to be so. The shuttle passed through the thin atmosphere without so much as a bump and began to lose altitude quickly. It would only be a matter of minutes before the external hatch would open to allow them egress to the planet’s surface. Zechor shared Thenesh’s excitement over the discovery, but for reasons of her own. Having her name associated with such a discovery would catapult her into the first ranks. She believed a Command would be quick in coming after this, and could barely contain herself. When the shuttle’s landing struts settled against the packed dirt, both Thenesh and Zechor bounded out of their seats, eager to be the first Serenthi to walk on Earth. Ó Rekex watched the shuttle descend to the planet’s surface. As it settled to the packed dirt, clouds of dust rose into the air. Strange how much this place resembles the arid planes of Serenthii now, he thought. As a reptilian species, the Serenthi felt most comfortable in a desert environment, and had brought environmental suits with them to help protect them from the moisture-rich atmosphere they had expected to find. It appeared as though they would not need them now, however. Not enough water remained on the surface to produce moisture in sufficient quantities to discomfit them. As he continued to watch the imager Rekex had an idea: If the Humans no longer inhabited the planet, did that not make the planet open to inhabitation by any species that deemed it worthy of inhabiting? Since the environment had been altered to such a degree, would they not find it difficult to adjust if they were to return? And, Rekex and his crew had traveled all this way to make contact with a species that was no longer present. In order to avoid having launched this mission in vain, should they not claim the planet, indeed the entire system, in the name of the Serenthi? Colonists could begin arriving within several generations – once it was deemed safe to do so. The reason for the Humans’ disappearance was still to be determined after all. That thought brought Rekex’s gaze back to the imager. The area of the crater was magnified before him. The shuttle, its contours in stark contrast to the tawny desert surrounding it, gleamed in the sun. He saw the concentric circles of the crater like a giant, rheumy eye watching his ship. Two dark dots moved across the various levels of the bowl, closing in on the center, where Thenesh had discovered the object. A small prickling sensation skittered up his back as he thought of the implications that object presented. If Thenesh was correct in his assumption that the signal the object was transmitting was responsible for the disappearance of the Humans, as well as the odd behavior he and his crewmembers had been experiencing, how would it affect the Serenthi who came in contact with the physical object itself? How much more powerful would its effects be at such close range? Suddenly, Rekex had a terrible feeling about having allowed Zechor and Thenesh to shuttle down to the surface. The prickling intensified, now working its way across his shoulders and along the base of his neck. “Cetuc, hail the landing party,” he ordered. “Yes, Sir,” Cetuc responded. He tapped a button on his console. “Cadtuz to Shuttle Zatezra. Come in shuttle Zatezra.” No response. Cetuc tapped another button and made another attempt. “Cadtuz to landing party. Come in, please.” A low buzz of static was all the reply they received. “They are not responding, Sir. Would you like me to continue hailing?” Rekex traced the outline of a plate on his chest, contemplating his options. “Yes. Vary the frequency ever five intervals. I will prepare a second shuttle to retrieve them if we have not made contact after thirty intervals.” He decided it was time to pay Technician Hekten a visit and find out what he could about Theta waves. “I will be in Medical if . . . .” Before he could finish, Cetuc interrupted. “Sir, the signal from the planet has ceased.” He sounded nervous, as if this were an omen of the gravest kind. Rekex automatically looked to the imager and could no longer see his crewmembers within the crater’s circles. “Magnify the image, helmsman.” The rings of the crater increased in diameter, the uneven terrain within becoming even more broken. Still no signs of his officers, nor any evidence of attempts to excavate the site. “What do you mean it has ceased? What happened to it? And to the landing party?” Rekex demanded. “Unknown, Sir.” Cetuc keyed a series of commands into his console, his head shaking from side to side as if unable to comprehend what he was reading. A moment later, the acting Science Officer, a young female named Vezisk, spoke. “The signal Science Officer Thenesh isolated and traced to the crater has disappeared, as have the various frequencies we encountered upon entering the inner system. Sensors are not detecting any emissions of an artificial nature anywhere within this system. It is as if they were never there.” “Impossible!” Rekex blurted. Vezisk manipulated the console’s keys for a moment before continuing. “The Gamma emissions from the planet’s surface have ceased as well, Sir. Either the landing party has excavated the device and shut it down, or it has shut down on it own. There is no way to tell based on the sensor scans.” “Cetuc, continue to contact Adjunct Zechor and Science Officer Thenesh. Broadcast ever half-interval. I am piloting a shuttle to the surface to retrieve my officers.” “Sir,” the acting Adjunct stood from his post. “It would be inappropriate of you to do so. As acting Adjunct, it is my duty to keep you out of harm’s way. As we are uncertain of the fate of Zechor and Thenesh, for you to descend to the planet would be an inadvisable course of action.” Rekex glared at the young officer. He knew the regulations better than a junior officer, and was irked to have them thrown in his muzzle like that. When he spoke, his voice had a flinty edge, sharp enough to eviscerate. “Yernej, I would appreciate it if you kept your misgivings to yourself in the future or you will never found yourself on this deck again.” Yernej’s ridges all but disappeared and his esophagus elongated as he fought to swallow his fear. “Nonetheless, Sir, I must advise against your shuttling to the surface. We do not know what, if anything, has happened to Zechor and Thenesh. I suggest we perform low-orbit sensor scans at the highest resolution in order provide more information.” Rekex was about to snap at Yernej again when he realized the junior male was correct. He heaved a great sigh and dropped into his command chair. “Very well. Helmsman, take us into a close-orbit and set sensors to maximum intensity.” Yernej nodded to himself and was about to return to studying the data on his screen when Commander Rekex spoke. “My thanks, acting Adjunct. Please continue to remind me of my responsibilities as Commander when I presume to forget them. As of late, I have found my behavior to be less than professional in that regard.” “As have we all, Sir.” Rekex gave him a quizzical glance. “I will endeavor to prove myself worthy of your command.” Rekex’s ridges swelled, making the dimples that formed along them even deeper. Ó Cetuc piloted the ship into a lower orbit while Vezisk trained the sensors on the area surrounding the shuttle. The higher resolution of the sensors allowed the imager to display a more detailed picture of the terrain: the steps of the crater’s circles were uneven, eroded over time to an undulating brokenness indicative of water erosion and the bowl appeared shallower, its floor dotted with smaller pits. In the center, a rounded peak jutted out of the dirt, either a result of the impact or because of the object buried beneath it; the sensors did not indicate which. The ground yielded no evidence of excavation efforts. There were no signs of Zechor or Thenesh, either. No bodies. No tracks in the dirt. No life signs. The shuttle remained where it had landed and appeared to be in perfect working order. Rekex surveyed the area via the imager with tense confusion. Where had they gone? Were there caves present which they decided to explore? Had the object’s suddenly shutting down mean that they had reached it? Or were they simply gone, vanished inexplicably like the Humans? He pondered these questions, aware that the command crew awaited his orders. He had no orders for them. The situation was perplexing, infuriating and completely beyond anything he ever thought he would encounter. Finally, despite his better judgment, he felt no other choice but to rely on the temporary command crew for assistance. “Suggestions anyone?”
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