"And I soon discovered that without the native minds being intact, the serum could not take effect. There was some kind of barrier between the two levels of consciousness–voluntary will and involuntary action. The serum could not cross the barrier to the conscious but involuntarily part of the mind that it needed to alter to initiate a metamorphosis."
"What about inducing the metamorphosis before the memory transfer?" Alessia suggested, but saw the flaws in the idea as soon as she had proposed it.
"I tried that," Hinev shook his head. "When I injected the serum into the clones prior to the Elders' transfer, the young creature–as expected–drew close to complete transformation, needing only another telepathic mind and semi-sentient body to help guide the complete metamorphosis. I hesitated to complete the process, though, until the transfer of thoughts took hold. But I found that after the serum had been introduced into the native system of each clone, the native clone mind could not be erased or changed. It could absorb memories telepathically, but always remained conscious of its own separate entity. One of the young child clones fully absorbed Marankeil's memories, forgetting its own independence. But it could not consciously control any of them, and soon degenerated into its own world, losing touch with the reality around it.
"The Elders instructed me to bring the successful explorers in for a transferal, but it turned they could not be ‘containers’, as it were, for the Elder's minds, either.”
Alessia winced. How barbaric, she thought. How disgusting, thinking of using another being’s body in such a way, eradicating its natural mind and destiny…
“It seems all grown clone bodies injected with the serum will not accept alien matter without rejecting it. Marankeil finally decided that the semi-permanent clones would be enough. But to tell you the truth, I am relieved the memory-transferals failed."
"More clones?” Alessia persisted. "How are they any different?"
"They aren't much different than ordinary human clones grown ectogenetically–except that after many experiments, I was able to augment the grown clones’ physical endurance and hardiness using my earlier serums. They are not indestructible, however, and after maturation must be replaced at least every seven hundred years. Marankeil will keep his computerized entity stored and transfer his active thought into the clones once they have grown, rather than his former mobile mechanized unit. The division between two units–between the mobile android and Main Terminus Center–is similar. The clone memories will also be re-transmitted into the computer at intervals to maintain the memory bank. If the clone should die, another will be prepared from Marankeil's computerized entity.
"It seems unfair not to give the clones a chance at their own lives, a chance to form their own memories. After all, they are human entities–" Alessia interrupted.
"Hmmm." Hinev nodded. "But they have been grown in ectogenetic capsules without exposure to the world to form their own memories." He shook his head. "I only hope that the Elders can learn from humanity again. As machines, they lost all traces of human emotion and suppressed their human memory–perhaps that was the reason the serum transfers failed." He suggested, only half-serious. "They have not been human for many years, and do not remember what it means to be so."
Alessia found Hinev’s experiments with the clones gruesome, but said nothing to him about it; there was nothing she could do to stop what was going on.
"Ornenkai told me that the explorers of Selesta are leaving soon." Alessia said. "I suppose they will be allowed to serve their original purpose with the transfers having failed."
"Yes. Marankeil and the other Elders perceive the serum recipients—Kiel and the other explorer candidates—as a threat. If he sends them away as explorers he will ensure his control over them—and that they are no threat.”
"How many are there?" Alessia wondered.
"We succeeded with thirty-one, and then I risked no more."
"What do you mean 'succeeded'?" she asked. Hinev stood and took her arm, leading her to the door.
"If you really want to know, then I’ll show you," he said.
* * * * *
On the way to the holding cells below the building, Hinev explained that after testing his serum on fully grown humanoid clones, he had begun using real human test subjects, but there had been many failures in those given initial serum injections. In consecutive attempts at a mindlink, some of them had developed a split-personality disorder. They had no longer been able to distinguish between their own entity and the ones they had absorbed telepathically. Hinev had discontinued the serum injections, and the remaining creatures had been left to live out the rest of its unnaturally augmented life in seclusion.
Others had rejected the serum. In moments they had become wild creatures, thrashing about the floor in agonized paroxysms, some scratching their own skin off and others harming themselves, breaking their own bones and running wild into objects as though they felt no pain outside delirium; still others were simply unable to withstand the sudden pain of the serum itself, an elixir of burning fire, that pulsed through their blood and into every small subatomic cell like a purging cathartic fire, only there had been no catharsis, no restoration of the body, and no end to the pain. Hinev had been obliged to constrain them and remove the serum through a blood cleansing unit. Many of the candidates were still recuperating, even though four long years had come and gone.
Others had slowly grown ambitious, seeing themselves as demi-gods that might overthrow the Elders and take their place. As soon as Hinev had read their intent, he had halted their metamorphosis, short of perfection and immortality. It was to the cell of the two of these that he brought Alessia.
"I removed the serum from them, but the metamorphosis has already transformed much of their bodies. They hold on to their telepathic abilities as a lifeline to their ambitions, but their enhanced physical strength and telekinetic abilities have almost disappeared. The Elders wish to study them and hope perhaps they might find a way to use their bodies to succeed where I failed. But now that you have come–perhaps you can end their suffering."
"What?" Alessia took a step back, avoiding the wild, crazed eyes of the two creatures whose faces pressed up into the holding cell windows, watching her, darting over her as though they would have enjoyed the opportunity to rip her to pieces.
"They were created with the altered serum, a hybrid of your own blood and my serum prototype–you may be able to kill the metamorphosed cells where I could not. I removed your blood cells from their system to halt the metamorphosis, but too much had already taken place."
Alessia eyed the creatures, and understood the danger of their existence. And, if the offending partially transformed matter could be destroyed, perhaps their old selves could return.
Closing her eyes, she sent out a wave of semi-sentient waves from her mind and concentrated upon altering the cell, returning them to their original form rather than destroying them. Such a complete purge would have terminated the creatures, leaving them without certain vital functions, even if she were able to do it.
Minutes passed, and the alteration began to work. Hinev said nothing, but felt the process with his own perception. She sensed that he had joined her, that he paid particular interest in examining how she was able to cleanse the few serum-altered cells.
With the alteration a success, Alessia turned away, temporarily drained of energy. Her body began to tingle as though from electric shock as it pulled particles from the air to replenish its energy reserves.
As they returned to his laboratory, Alessia finally voiced the question that had been at the fore of her mind.
"Why did you continue the experiments after such horrors occurred?"
Hinev said nothing. It seemed he could not bear the guilt, not enough to excuse himself with an answer. Was his guilt so great because he had once refused to give it any power over him?
She shook her head
in concealed pity, perceiving the answer in his thoughts. Did he let her read them? Or had guilt lowered his mind’s defenses?
What she saw was that Hinev had once truly believed that his experiment would be for the benefit of all their people. His motive for the experiment had once been primarily selfish; then, as his perception grew after the serum injections, his thoughts had become muddled with philanthropic visions. So, at first he had accepted the Elders' endorsement to continue his serum research. Yet when he had begun to see the price the serum demanded from its recipients, he had grappled with his own desires, and finally found courage to ask to discontinue his work. The Elders had then, in no uncertain terms, given him no choice but to continue.
Sensing Hinev's guilt, the last, horrible feeling the serum had developed in him, and his hesitation to continue the experiment, the Elders had begun to threaten him with innocent lives if he did not comply. And, they could find other assignments for his candidates if he were not inclined to use them as the experimental group. And then they would select another team. They would take the process out of his hands. They would use Alessia however they could–
No more needed to be said. He could not have them hurt Alessia. Hinev's explorers were born.
Yet Hinev had never told them anything, could not tell them anything. His explorers knew only that they had been selected for a long explorer mission and had to endure certain genetic alteration to survive the long journey.
No, they–we will never grow any older. Hinev remembered, as though this thought kept hitting him again with its fantastic power to shock. But I have stolen one form of immortality from them in order to give them another, for none of us will have any children to live after us. And we will be here, watching, when our civilization inevitably dies. All of us will see everything we have ever loved vanish forever.
Alessia stopped listening to his thoughts, sensing that Hinev had realized the consequences of the serum metamorphosis too late. He knew better than anyone what a curse a long memory could be in a population that had a short one. He knew that the present identities the explorers knew as themselves were doomed to slowly die while their bodies lived on. They would not be the same people after thousands of years. And yet he could not tell them. He could not face them. Or his own shame.
Hinev said nothing for a long time.
“I wish I hadn’t done it,” he said very quietly. “Sometimes you feel like you don’t have a choice even when you do. Now there is no going back.”
“What?” she asked, but she knew what he meant.
Hinev ignored her. He paused, his face clouded by unease. “I was just so tired of death. Everywhere we went, Kudenka’s explorers, we found war, famine–horrible, premature death. I saw so many men, so many humanoid creatures die. It was painful to see so many of them slip away. To know that it might have been me next–and to be able to stop nothing of the dying around you…
“Well, my dear, I have some news for you.” He said suddenly, breaking off with no small effort.
“You’re upset,” she realized, let this affect her. “And not just by recollections from the past. I know you too well.”
“You sensed that, I suppose. Thought you’d come and check on me.”
“What is it?”
“I’m going away.”
“What?”
“Just look.” He managed.
She saw past his composure and into his thoughts. Hinev had served his purpose. The Elders thought they no longer needed him, in view of the light that they had taken his cloning equipment. His grand design for them had failed.
Hinev had received his orders yesterday. They were discharging him from service at the Federation Science Building for a period of ten years, sending him to Eneveh, a small city near the boundary of the weather-safe ring. He could continue his research and return to Ariyalsynai in time. The transfer actually read that they were sending him on a retreat, a reward for his service as an explorer.
Hinev could enjoy his life with few responsibilities to disturb him–but to Hinev the transfer was devastating. Alessia knew that the Elders would always call him back, for they needed him to be on hand in case one of the clones he had created needed to be replaced or repaired, in case they failed to understand or replicate what he had done with his serums. But they would never allow his voice to be heard again in the scientific circles of Ariyalsynai.
Ornenkai had broken the news to him and informed Hinev of Marankeil's other orders, to be delivered to Commander Ungarn some time that day.
"Marankeil has decided to send you on the explorer mission." Hinev said tiredly, leaning against the lab table, his hands stretched out behind him. "I asked what might be done to prevent it, but my word carried no weight, and Ornenkai informs me that Marankeil will not be dissuaded. Oh, Alessia, I don't want you to leave. We will be parted for many years."
Alessia just stood there.
She was going? He was staying? And all of this already arranged.
She looked at him, his unchanged violet eyes, mirrors to his inner turmoil. Dear Hinev, she would miss him! And how could the Elders do it? How could they discard him and send him away into exile? Despite what he had done, he was by far a greater man than they in her estimation. Of course, Hinev could always disobey his orders–what could the Elders physically do to him? They couldn’t kill him, but they could banish him from Seynorynael forever and use their humanroids, androids that had been cosmetically fashioned to appear almost human, to restrain him and keep him away.
Hinev would never again be able to show his true face on his home world; the humanroids would see to that. Humanroids were mechanical creatures like the Elders themselves, but had no human soul that could be affected by telepathic suggestions; humanroids were also immune to most of the explorers’ other powers, and extremely difficult to move or defeat telekinetically. They had been used in many a war and to control the population at times. But much of society owned simple harmless androids as well that performed many work functions, so the population didn’t complain much.
If Hinev left Seynorynael, he wouldn’t ever be able to visit any of his explorers when they returned to Seynorynael. So he would stay, and do what he was told—for now.
But to explore the galaxies–to leave Seynorynael behind for a time and witness the wonders of the universe first-hand–and to live among people like her, with similar thoughts, ideals, and abilities–despite her unhappiness over Hinev’s fate, Alessia could hardly contain her excitement concerning her own.
"Yes, I understand. A transport will take you to the others at Lake Firien in two days." Hinev said tiredly, pushed himself from the table, and turned away.
Finge datos currus, quid agas? Suppose the chariot were granted to you, what would you do?
–Ovid, Apollo to Phaethon
Chapter Six
Beneath the storm grey clouds of the north, the vast crystal mirror of Lake Firien stretched away from the land. Alessia could almost smell the sea air through the transport window as she gazed down past Firien City to the dim, dark waters below. She could almost taste the salt in the air, feel the light mist of sea spray beading on her hair and skin. A flock of lovely white birds flew past the viewport of their transport.
Years had gone by since Alessia left the Firien Province, but it didn’t matter. Wherever she went, she carried vivid memories of this place with her, the most beloved place in all the world.
The transport turned away from the city and towards the southern coast, the site of The Firien Project and the place where the rebuilt ship Selesta awaited them.
“Is that–Selesta?” Alessia said, staring out the transport window at the dark, liquid navy monolith stretching away on the horizon. It was so beautiful, reflecting pinpoints of muted light from a million stars, its hull darker even than the bright heavens around Seynorynael.
Ungarn and the other mem
bers of the Martial Scientific Force who had accompanied her chuckled, apart from the two young officers who had never been to Firien. Those two stared at the great ship with the same sense of wonder as Alessia herself. Moments later, the transport headed through a wide yawning air lock and into a cavernous area just inside.
“What is this place?” One of the youngest men turned to Ungarn, who had been to Selesta two times before.
“They call it the Great Cargo Bay,” Ungarn returned. “Though they keep more of the extra Valerian fighters in here than any cargo.”
Some of the other officers laughed.
“Why is that so funny?” A gangly youth asked, one of the two who had never been to Firien before.
“Because, Sumeidh, the explorers don’t need all those fighters, but they won’t give them back to the Martial Scientific Force. The people who were working on the Firien Project originally made plans to quarter about a hundred thousand occupants, and the ship ended up with just over thirty. Quite a disparity in the numbers, wouldn’t you say?” Ungarn’s second-in-command, Major Minart, chuckled.
“Sure is, but what if they have families in time? That will up the crew by a few,” Sumeidh returned, quelling the laughter. “And if you want, you can make clones of yourselves as well to perform basic functions on board,” he added. “I think you have plenty of ectogenesis chambers.”
The transport docked, and the officers disembarked, their boots creating an uneven rhythm on the smooth surface of the transport.
“Alessia,” Ungarn called her attention as they headed down the gangway; she looked over at him with an expression that tried to mask the fact that she already knew what he was preparing to tell her.
“Yes, sir?” She cocked an eyebrow and waited patiently.
“You’ve been given leave to explore on your own for a while.” Ungarn explained, moistening his lips in the cold, dry air of the cargo bay. “I’ve been instructed to deliver the Elders' requests to some of the explorers, and to review the reports of the team's progress before we head back to Ariyalsynai.”