THE FOREVER GENE (THE SCIONS OF EARTH Book 1) (42 page)

Carson came in first, his eyes wide with shock.  He gave Katya a brief, penetrating glance, perhaps trying to prepare her in some way.  Then he stepped aside and the armoured monster walked onto the bridge.  It was over seven feet tall and its shoulders were twice the size of those of a human being.  The skin of its face was a bluish-grey colour and its hair was thick and dark, framing large lupine ears set on top of its skull. Below a massive brow were pig-like eyes and an aquiline nose.  It also had what looked alarmingly like small tusks protruding from the corners of its mouth.  The creature's torso matched its shoulders and its limbs were like tree trunks.  Beyond that, it was clad in black body armour fitted with an impressive array of weapons.

Katya managed to restrict her reaction to a blink of astonishment, and held her ground as the monster approached without slowing.  The others all took an involuntary step backwards, some of them unable to contain gasps or muttered expletives.  When the brute reached Hans it sent him flying backwards with a powerful sweep of its right arm.  The lanky astrophysicist crashed into one of the consoles and collapsed in a senseless heap.

She braced herself, fully expecting to be attacked next, but the monster turned aside and strode over to the communications bank on the far wall of the bridge.  For such a bulky creature it moved with extraordinary grace and balance, and she could see that it would be a formidable adversary in a fight. Removing an armoured gauntlet from its right hand, it began fiddling with some of the controls. Katya couldn't tell whether it was male or female, but she couldn't imagine such a powerful creature being anything other than a male of the species. 

She and Harry took the opportunity to bend over Hans to check that he was alright.  He came to with a groan, gingerly feeling his chest where he had been struck.  Thankfully, he didn't seem to be seriously injured.  Why he had been singled out was a mystery.  Her guess was that the Drel-Rog wanted to stamp his authority on his new command and Hans happened to be the tallest person on the bridge.  Perhaps the brute had simply assumed that he was their leader.

She straightened up and turned her attention back to the armoured giant.  He had pulled out some kind of device and seemed to be performing a diagnostic check of the ship's communications system.

She could feel her anger building.  She had complied with the Drel's demands and didn't see why it was necessary to subject a member of her crew to such aggressive behaviour.  Especially the peaceable Hans.  She was about to demand an explanation when the Drel-Rog spoke for the first time.

He emitted a series of snarls, grunts, and hisses in a deep, booming voice.  Looking around and perceiving that there was no reaction from the watching humans, he tapped at his device and spoke again.  This time, his speech was accompanied by a series of screeches, shrieks and whines emanating from the communications system.  It seemed that the Faerie Folk analysts who had worked on the ship had built a translation module into the system.

When the Drel-Rog saw that they didn't understand Faerie Folk speech either, he tapped at his device again.  The third time he spoke, the module translated his words into English.

"I am Ikthar," he said.  He made an expansive gesture with his right arm.  "Drel come to destroy the Ille."

Although the last word was unfamiliar to Katya, he gave it a high pitched inflection and she realised that he was talking about the Faerie Folk.

"You will swear allegiance to the Drel."

Katya glared defiantly at him.  "Why should we do that?" she asked.  "We have not threatened you or given you any reason to harm us.  On the contrary, we have offered you nothing but co-operation."

The translation module duly converted her words into snarls, grunts, and hisses.

Ikthar took a step forwards, his entire body radiating menace.  "You say that you have suffered at the hands of the Ille," he growled.  "That is why you have been spared for now.  You will swear allegiance to the Drel or you and your ship will be destroyed."

Katya suddenly realised that the creature was expendable.  She glanced across at the video feed, which showed that the Drel ships targeting Earthworm hadn't budged.  Ikthar had been sent to take control of the ship.  If he failed, he would pay with his life.

And so would they.

Katya looked at Hans and the others with a resigned expression on her face.

They had no choice.

Earthworm had just joined the Drel war fleet.

EPILOGUE

Vi had to walk quickly to keep up with Ambassador Ba. He was almost a head taller than she was and, when he was in a hurry, she found it difficult to match his long strides.

It wasn't done to keep the Ancient Council waiting, and the ambassador had left Azura for Primefall as soon as he had been summoned.  She had been more than a little surprised when he had asked her to accompany him.  He knew what she knew about the human question, and she had no idea what report she could make to the council that he couldn't.

Perhaps it was simply that he wanted a command member of the expedition with him, and Ko and Ti were not available.  Ko had departed for Primefall as soon as Emissary had returned from Earth, and Ti had followed him a few cycles later. Only Vi had remained to assist the ambassador with the mammoth task of settling six million people into their new home.

She had been delighted to learn of the living facilities which had been constructed for the evacuees in the valleys of Azura.  Her people had not been as idle as she had feared in preparing for the new arrivals.  The hard-water facilities were basic, but adequate, and the evacuees were promised that they would be given the materials they needed to expand and improve their new home over time.

The arable land in the valleys had been seeded with crops, and herds of stock beasts roamed the hillsides.  Water was plentiful, and the humans had everything they needed to become self-sufficient.  A rudimentary spaceport had even been set up in the area so that the ships of the evacuation fleet could deliver their passengers directly there.

The humans' penchant for labelling things came to the fore and they quickly came up with a name for the settlement; Atlantis.  The choice puzzled Vi; from her studies of human legends, she knew that Atlantis was the name of a mythical place which had been destroyed in a massive cataclysm.  It seemed an inauspicious title to give an embryonic colony which could very well turn out to be humanity's last outpost.

When she got the chance, she asked Qara about it.  The diminutive Mongolian explained that, although the ultimate fate of Atlantis had been disastrous, the civilisation itself had existed for thousands of years and, according to legend at least, was regarded as the most advanced and harmonious society that had ever existed on planet Earth.  By naming their new home Atlantis, the colonists believed that they were reaching for utopia rather than courting disaster.

As they neared the Ancient Council's hearing chamber Vi stole a few glances at the ambassador's face.  It was something a human would do to gauge the mood of a person who was being uncommunicative.  She had tried it a few times since returning from Earth and found that the face often gave away little details that the aura was suppressing.

If she was reading him correctly, he was not apprehensive about speaking to the council; he had been before it many times, but there was something that he was unhappy about.  He hadn't said anything to her on the trip from Azura and she had refrained from asking too many questions.  He seemed preoccupied, as if deep in thought, and she had assumed that he would tell her what she needed to know when the time came.

Well, the time had come and it was too late for him to give her any kind of briefing now.  She had been once to the planetary council on Azura, and knew enough to be able to observe the required etiquette.  But she had never visited the Ancient Council's chambers before, let alone been summoned to appear before one of its special hearings.

The seemingly endless warren of corridors leading to the hearing chamber eventually culminated in a long, wide walkway.  It was beautifully furnished, with open skylights which let in the warmth and differently coloured light of the suns.  The pervasive orange glow from Archon, the distant red giant, mingled with shafts of sharp yellow light angling in from Bellinor, the nearer white dwarf.  Outside, the mix produced a pale yellow sky with a reddish tinge, but in here the effect was more complex. The brighter yellow light lanced through the dimmer orange haze, illuminating some parts of the walkway like cosmic spotlights.  The shadows in between exuded a softer spectrum of colour ranging from rusty brown to orange.

Although few had actually been here, everyone on the five planets knew this place.  Officially, it was named Councillor's Approach, but it had long ago become known simply as The Hall.  Originally constructed as the main access corridor to the hearing chamber itself, it had taken on a far more important function over time.  The personal secretaries of the councillors, and many other government functionaries, worked at booths scattered throughout the Hall and in the numerous alcoves set into its long walls.  The place was widely acknowledged to be the real centre of power on the five planets.  This was where the business of government was actually conducted; where myriad petitions of all kinds were received and considered, and concessions both commercial and political were dispensed or withheld.

Folklore had it that remnants of the first ships of the ancient migration were buried beneath its floors.

Vi took a moment to appreciate the striking majesty of the Hall; she had seen images of it many times, but she decided that they didn't do justice to the real thing.  Although it was not ornately decorated, it put her in mind of the Temple of the Emerald Buddha in the Grand Palace at Bangkok.  Like the Temple, there was an intangible quality to the Hall; something she could not quite put her finger on.  It was as if some brooding power from the ancient past lingered within the very fabric of the place. 

The ambassador took no notice of his surroundings as he strode down the centre of the walkway.  None of its many functionaries gave him more than a cursory glance until he reached the far end, where a willowy secretary in a purple-blue robe stood waiting.  The latter favoured the ambassador with a deep bow, somehow managing to convey, in that simple movement, that he was expected, welcome, and slightly late.  The secretary ignored Vi completely and, spinning imperiously on his heel, led the way to a massive metal door which was the centrepiece of the wall at the end of the Hall.  A burly attendant stepped forward and performed an intricate series of finger movements within an interface module set into the door, before throwing it open to admit them.  The three of them entered and Vi heard the attendant close the door behind them.

On the other side of the door was yet another corridor; not as wide as the Hall, but almost as long.  This walkway was deserted, however, and had a peculiar musty smell to it, as if it was not often used.  She found that a little strange; wasn't this the main entrance to the hearing chamber?

She remained silent as she followed the others down the corridor.  When they reached halfway, the secretary turned into an alcove in the right hand wall which Vi hadn't noticed at first.  He stopped at another metal door, somewhat smaller than the one leading into the corridor from the Hall, and rapped on it three times.  It was opened by another attendant from within and they entered.

She found herself in a stately ante-room; a wide open space with an arched ceiling and numerous alcoves set into the walls.  At the far end of the room was the largest metal door yet, presumably the door to the hearing chamber itself.  The alcoves contained interface modules, lavish seating, and refreshment facilities.  The walls were covered with wooden panels, baroquely carved in the Azuran style.  Apart from a few functionaries tending the facilities, there was only one other person in the room.  When she looked in his direction she saw the face of none other than Physician Ti.  He was waiting patiently on the seating in one of the alcoves.

The secretary left them there, spinning on his heel once again and marching back out into the corridor without a word.  On Azura he would be considered rude, Vi thought, but the ambassador took no offence and went over to join the physician.  They began speaking quietly to each other, and she decided to leave them to it.  She had got to know Ti a little better in their time together on Shelter Island, but he wasn't what she would consider a friend.  Although she had been able to tell from his aura that he was sympathetic towards her, he was always very reserved, and their conversations had revolved almost exclusively around the genetic trial. She didn't feel like talking about that now, so she contented herself with a respectful nod in his direction.

She was too nervous to sit, and tried to distract herself by examining some of the nearby wooden panels, taking pride in the artful way they had been cultivated so precisely.  The artisans of her home planet were renowned for the skill, carefully developed over ages of practice.

After a wait which seemed an eternity, but wasn't really very long, the metal door at the far end of the ante-room opened and a pair of ushers in grey-blue robes came through.  They took up station on either side of the doorway.  A third usher, this one somewhat wizened with age, came through after them and approached the visitors.  He exchanged deep bows with the ambassador and Ti and, belatedly remembering her etiquette, Vi followed suit.  Without further ado, they followed the usher through the doorway into a cavernous space.  The hearing chamber was dimly lit and, after the brightness of the ante-room, it took her eyes a while to adjust.

By then, the usher had led them down some steep steps and into the centre of a circular arena.  The arena was enormous and Vi had to squint through the gloom to see the far end of it.  Looking up, she could see only blackness for a moment, before making out the massive dome which roofed the chamber.  Unlike the transparent dome of the facility on the slopes of Tsetseegun Uul back in Mongolia, this dome did not let in any sunlight.  Looking around, she could see no seating in the arena, nor any other furnishings for that matter, and had no choice but to stand there awkwardly, waiting for something to happen.

She tried to emulate the ambassador, who had taken up a relaxed stance, as if about to deliver one of his public announcements.  The usher had disappeared, melting away so silently that she hadn't noticed him go.

With a hollow, grating sound which made her jump, sections of the floor around them began to move.  Panels which hadn't been apparent before slid aside, revealing dark circular openings.  Swivelling nervously around, she counted thirteen of the openings, which were ranged in a complete circle around the visitors.  Moments later, the shrouded heads of shadowy figures began to rise smoothly from below.  The process continued until all of the members of the Ancient Council had ascended into the arena.

They were seated on solid obsidian pedestals which had risen through the floor with them, the height of each seat being roughly the same as that of Vi's head.  The effect was intimidating; without having to stand up, the councillors towered over their supplicants.

Without warning, thirteen spotlights from somewhere above flicked on, each illuminating one of the councillors.  Three more came on, focussing on Vi and her companions in the centre of the circle.  She raised a long-fingered hand to shield her eyes from the sudden glare and looked around.  Now brightly lit, the pure white robes of the councillors shone like beacons in the darkness.  In contrast, the obsidian pedestals reflected no light, remaining dark and becoming almost invisible against the blackness behind them.

The councillors now appeared to be floating effortlessly in the air and Vi couldn't help being impressed.  The effect was no longer just intimidating; it was mystical and glorious at the same time.  The eerie quality of the scene was enhanced by the fact that all of the councillors' faces were deeply shadowed within the hoods they wore, and nothing could be seen of them but the glimmer of their bright green eyes. Their auras were shielded, whether by the councillors themselves or by mechanical means she couldn't tell, but no sense of who they were or what they were thinking could be perceived.

In that moment, Vi found herself wondering about the age old superstition; that the councillors were all long-lived survivors of the ancient migration itself.  Although no-one actually believed this anymore, the tradition had never been entirely eradicated from society's collective consciousness.  Perhaps it was because the identity of the councillors was such a closely guarded secret.  No-one was ever permitted to know who they were; or rather, who they had once been before being called to serve on the council.

The modern theory was that, whenever a councillor died, he was replaced in secret to preserve the notion that the Ancient Council was an immortal, eternal force serenely controlling the fate of the five planets.  The new appointee would be given enough time to arrange his affairs, and to prepare a credible explanation for his sudden disappearance.  With the help of the Ancient Council itself, it was not difficult for an appointee to arrange a permanent posting to one of the remote floating islands on Ellipse, or a berth on a deep space exploration ship, or to simply fake his own death.

No such false disappearance had ever been uncovered, however, so the theory remained unproven and the superstition intact.

A pity Qara couldn't be given the task of investigating it, Vi smiled wryly to herself; the little reporter would soon get to the bottom of the mystery.

Without preamble, the ambassador began speaking; launching into a detailed report of the expedition sent to evacuate six million human beings from planet Earth.  There were no words of welcome from the council, no introductory ceremony of any kind, and the first time Vi heard any of the councillors speak was when one of them asked a question during the ambassador's narrative.  The councillor who spoke did so in a thin, reedy voice; its timbre nevertheless conveying a sense of great age and wisdom.