Rise of Man Book 1: Ascendance
Rise of Man
Book 1: Ascendance
By E. Wayne Stucki
Copyright © 2012 E. Wayne Stucki
All rights reserved.
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This book is a work of fiction. All the events and characters portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
See these other books by E. Wayne Stucki available at your favorite ebook retailer:
Liberty
Betrayal
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Prologue
Footsteps echoed down the empty corridor as Teral Eddam, commander of the humans in the L’Khast Run, and his son walked towards the single door at the end of that long expanse. Only the dark gray of the man’s uniform and the bright fluorescent patterns of the young man’s clothing broke up the stark white of the walls, ceiling and floor. The color scheme and lighting of the hallway created the illusion that they were moving through light which was more than a little disconcerting. Teral glanced over at the teenager walking next to him. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Abbel, Terals’ sixteen year old son, didn’t say anything. He just swallowed, gave a jerky nod and kept walking.
As the two neared the end of the hall sensors noted their approach, recognized Teral’s biosignature and activated the entry routine. Seconds later the door panel slid aside to reveal darkness which provided a stark contrast to the intense white of the corridor. Then lights in the ceiling of the room beyond began to glow.
Standing in the doorway the father and son watched the growing light begin to reveal rows of tables and shelves filled with computers, discs, tapes, films and, deeper into the room, books. Abbel looked over at his father. “This is a library,” he said and gave his father an accusing glare. “This isn’t anything new. I’ve been in libraries before.”
Teral gestured at the room. “It may seem to be just a library but what you see is unique. There’s nothing like it in the L’Khast Realm or, to my knowledge, in the world. Everything in here’s been written or produced by humans and is about humans.”
As the person appointed by the Kthpok Masters to be the leader of their human property he was allowed access to the writings of his predecessors. Most of the items on the shelves had been reviewed by Kthpok censors and approved which had been one of the conditions imposed by the Masters for allowing the library. A slight grin crossed Teral’s lips as he looked at the rows of cubes, tapes, and books. There were a few ancient manuscripts on the shelves, hidden in plain view, that hadn’t been screened by his Masters. He knew there was nothing in those unapproved writings that could be considered seditious or dangerous but just possessing those items without permission was grounds for immediate and painful execution. Of course his death would come only after being forced to watch his family tortured to death and then devoured.
“Are we going in?” The impatient voice brought Teral out of his thoughts. He looked over at the sixteen year old standing next to him. The young man was already the height of his father so Teral could look directly into those stark blue eyes.
“Well? Do we go in or stand out here all night?” Then a hopeful look came over Abbel’s face. “If we aren’t going in maybe I can go back home and be with my friends?”
Teral reached over to put a hand on his sons shoulder but the young man shrugged the hand away and gave his father a pained look. Chuckling, Teral gestured for Abbel to enter the room before him. “We go in of course.”
After making sure the door was secure behind them the human leader led the way deeper into the room. He moved around the shelves, tables, and chairs placed in strategic locations for the convenience of those using the room. The shelves nearest the entrance contained the more modern computer cubes. But as the father and son worked their way towards the back of the large room the cubes turned to films and tapes then books which became older, less well bound. Some were held together by wire or string or leather strips. In the oldest section of the library Teral glanced over to see Abbel staring at the books while taking deep breaths to enjoy the smell of the ancient leather bindings.
At the far end of the room Teral turned down an aisle created by the back wall and bookshelves. This area was the darkest in the room because the height of the shelves and position of the ceiling lights combined to throw shadows over the books.
“Why are we on this aisle?” wondered Abbel as he followed his father. “It’s so dark you can’t read any labels.” He paused to stare up and down the shelf trying to see what was there. “There aren’t any titles on these!” he exclaimed after getting a closer look. “Without titles how do you know what you’re getting?”
The teenager leaned over to run a finger along a shelf. A streak left in the dust exposed the dark wood beneath. “Besides no one’s been back here in…forever!” He glared at his father. “Doesn’t anyone clean this place?”
Teral moved to the darkest area of the row, reached up to the top shelf and removed a large cylindrical object. “Only a very few people are allowed to come in here,” he said and looked back at his son. “The lead human,” Teral tapped his chest with a finger, “his designated successor and a few other high ranking people are the only ones granted to have access to this library. Those who come here and aren’t authorized will be executed - painfully. Only one has tried to get in and paid the consequences. You see our Masters don’t agree with wasting time reading material not associated with the work they give us.” He gestured at the books on the shelves. “They also question the wisdom of keeping our oldest and most prized documents in books and on paper rather that storing the data on computer media.” Teral shrugged and started walking back down the aisle with Abbel following. “Of course, they don’t want us wasting our valuable time scanning these items into the computer either.
“As to how to know which item to select,” Teral paused to smile at his son who had moved up beside him. “Everything here’s been placed according to an ancient pattern that’s been passed down from the fathers. By design the Kthpok don’t know how it works. Part of that’s from human deception and the rest,” he gave a little smile, “is mainly from the Kthpok arrogance. Since I’m the only one who knows the system I'm the only one getting the books off the shelf and returning them.” Teral motioned around the room, “I know where everything is which means no one comes here without me. And those I bring are authorized.” He reached over to touch Abbel on an arm. “Don’t worry. Because you’re here with me you’re in no danger.” Teral grimaced and shrugged. “At least not for being here unauthorized.”
Using the cylinder he motioned for Abbel to follow and led the way back to a table with better lighting. Teral pulled out a chair and indicated that his son was to sit down. The young man sat down and scooted close to the table. “Now, remember, you asked me a question earlier today?”
Abbel thought for a moment then brightened. “The one about how the Kthpok made us?”
Teral nodded. “That’s right. The Kthpok did make us. In a way,” he said with a shrug. “But it didn’t quite happen the way you’ve been taught in school.” Bending over, he slipped the cover off the cylinder to reveal a roll of paper wrapped around a center of polished wood.
The teenager looked at the cover held be his father and saw that it was made of dark, cra
cked leather. He couldn’t imagine how old it had to be for the leather to turn that dark. Then he unrolled some of the paper to expose writing in faded ink and carefully rubbed his fingers over its surface. “It’s old,” he said. His awe at something so obviously ancient was evident.
Teral nodded and gestured at the roll. “This particular document is the oldest in the library and was passed down in secret from father to son until the library was established. It’s called a scroll and is many hundreds of years old. My father - your grandfather - had it treated to preserve the paper and bring some of its flexibility back.”
He reached out and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. This time Abbel didn’t think to shrug away. “Now, that you’ve grown and learned enough to start asking the important questions it’s time for you to learn the truth.” A grim look appeared on the older man’s face. “But you must know that with truth comes responsibility,” there was a slight pause, “and danger - always. This secret is known only to a select few and is never to be shared with anyone else.”
Abbel nodded his understanding and worked to adopt a serious manner. Although his son tried to disguise his feelings Teral could sense the excitement behind that stern countenance. “There is one more thing,” he said. “Our family has always been among the human leaders for the L’Khast. I learned this secret from my father and he from his father. Now you learn it from me. If our Masters ever discover that we have the knowledge contained in or this scroll,” Teral softly tapped the paper, “our entire family will be killed - painfully and publicly.
“Now,” he gestured for Abbel to begin reading, “what you’ll find in that scroll will answer your questions. The reason the scroll’s so big is that it covers several generations of our forefathers.”
The young man bent over the paper and studied it for a moment. Then he began reading aloud. It was slow and deliberate as he worked to recognize the words. “I, Makok…son of Kok, son of Karg…make a…record of my proceedings and…that of my fathers.” Abbel stopped and looked up at his father.
“Makok couldn’t write very well,” the young man commented. “It’s difficult to read.”
“Makok was your grandfather many times removed,” said Teral, “and became the first of our family to serve the Kthpok. He was also the first of the human Points. Learning to read and write came many years after he was married with several children. The Kthpok had to teach him.”
“The first to serve the Kthpok?” Abbel looked down at the exposed portion of the scroll with the faded ink and his brow furrowed in thought. “That means there was a time when people didn’t have to work for the Masters. But the history we’ve been taught in school says humans have always lived under Kthpok guidance.” The boy glanced up at his father again with the unspoken question apparent.
Teral gestured at the scroll on the table. “Read,” he said, “and remember that the creatures we know as the Kthpok were called ‘Eaters’ before our fathers were placed in their service. If you live long enough you’ll learn that name still applies today.”
Swallowing, Abbel turned back to the scroll and read.
“I, Makok, son of Kok, son of Karg, make a record of my proceedings and those of my fathers.
Most of my days have been spent in the mountains which sheltered my people. Then the Kthpok took my family and me from those mountains. We have been educated, as our Masters have said, and put to labor for their benefit.
This history is being written so my descendants can know of their fathers. I want my children and their children to know what we have been taken from. I want them to know what we have lost.
This history begins with my grandfather, Karg-the-old.”