Window On The World

Genre: Science Fiction

All rights reserved to the author

Window On The World

By Geri Fitzsimmons

Chapter one

With the coming of morning, sunlight licked gently at the peaceful island of Enra a vibrant jewel set in the center of the green-gold river of Hels. Heavy cloud cover camouflaged the early dawn. Most of the populace still lay in the splendor of their self-induced dreams.

A Face to Face. "Death be damned!" Meath of the O'Enra spread his body on the Exercisemate. He stared at the monitor as the suggested program depicting his torture flashed in dismal enjoyment, while the soulless machine's computer assessed his physical requirements. Weeks of agony faced him. Deprivation of his palate alone would be undeniable cruelty.

Venetian-- that's what Chef called the wine and butter sauce with which he basted the duckling to a perfect umber. Saliva pooled in Meath's mouth. He savored the memory of his last decent meal for months to come. What a waste. Chef only had about twenty years of productive life left. Meath always referred to his cooks as Chef and never employed one who made use of artificial ingredients.

This was Meath’s own fault, but accepting responsibility for his neglected body didn't make it any easier. At that moment, he would have gladly flung himself from the machine had he been able; but wisely he had programmed the sensors not to allow it. He groaned as the manipulation of weak muscles and destruction of fat cells began. It was deplorable that a marvelous organ like his multiple brain still required this feeble carcass to sustain life.

The prickly sensations on his head and body told him the re-growth process had started earlier than anticipated--he didn't realize he'd become that hairless. The inserting needles made his eyes water and his sinuses stuff up.

When, in his first lifetime, Meath found that his recessed genetic patterns held no fancier combinations than the simple picture he presented, he lost interest in improving his natural looks. Oh, it would have been simple enough to alter his codes. He could have been taller than five six, could have straightened his black curls, even caused thicker body hair, or lightened his olive complexion. All the work required to accomplish those changes would have taken time away from developing his brain capacity.

Prior to several rebirths he planned to do this, but always he put it off to the next generation or the next until it ceased to concern him.

Only a Face to Face meeting could force the short fat human to subject himself to the torture of his Exercisemate. He knew his colleagues Cabrea of the DeDiann and Cray of the Bonsigh would be in excellent physical shape and he didn't relish their gloating expressions if he should sail into the meeting on his Transporter.

A Face to Face? "Death and be damned!" Was Cray just displaying her usual paranoid tendencies or had something major occurred? Over the many generations of their research project, they'd been forced to cheat a bit to escalate the development of a small planet. Had someone discovered an inconsistency in their reports? Lately some members of the Faculty had suggested they might consider the termination of Experiment 00279. It had become a burdensome drain on Faculty resources with a meager show of profit. Was this the reason Cray had called for a face-to-face discussion?

The machine continued manipulating his limbs until the pain caused him to sob out loud. "Death and be damned! 100cc of Argat!" He ordered the relief drug pumped into his pain centers.

His overweight body was forced to sweat so badly that even the controlled atmosphere of the cubical couldn't contend with the smell. Was it just that stench causing his sudden queasiness?

In the time period just prior to the Face to Face, Meath enjoyed his newly remodeled exterior. He walked where he desired now. He sat and conversed in the company of other humans. He'd even engaged in living sexual encounters. He played the role of the onetime birthed and nearly convinced himself it might be preferable to multiple lifetimes.

Of course, he swore as he often did, that this time he would maintain this well- functioning body. Then he was forced to enter the sparse meeting room Cray of the Bonsigh offered. Sit in the stiff-back chair with its buttocks-numbing seat; sip at the clear tasteless liquid refreshment she provided, and his good intentions fled.

Cray's hands trembled as she finger-combed the silken strands of auburn hair she wore as a halo above her Crown of Knowledge. Unlike many of her fair skinned clan, she refused to accept the baldness that came with the extended cranium that protected her multiple brain.

Meath knew that while failure of experiment 00279 would be a disappointment to them all, to Cray it would be a personal insult for the initial concept had been hers.

Since all the life supporting planets of the Combine developed naturally in the same way, she thought to create one by similar though vastly superior methods. She sought out the funding and convinced Cabrea and Meath to join her in the research. Fresh out of the Academy, eager to catch the attention of the Faculty, the concept of a lifetime commitment appealed to the ambitious young men. Attracting an atmosphere to the planetoid had often been frustrating, but eventually it stabilized thereby assuring them of being reborn.

"The landmasses are too unstable to attract even the hardiest of races for colonization.” Cray's normally domineering tone sounded flat with defeat. "It has no value." She started to pace. “Because of its short life span it has yet to form any metals that would entice financial interests. With so many larger and more promising natural worlds the hope of attracting industrialists of any kind is null." She had made short work in covering the circumference of the cubical and now paused behind Meath’s back.

"Imagine this picture if you will." Cabrea's mischievous glance flicked over the faces of his companions. "Sure, a painting created by a demented artist. A continuous food chain each link formed simply to nourish the next. Eat and be eaten." A chuckle escaped from deep in the DeDiann's throat.

Meath felt instant anger coated with disgust. Not actually at the clown Cabrea, but at the experiment. He had never intended that 00279 should take over his existence. Lately he found himself wishing they had long ago relinquished their project to other minds.

"Such a waste. A life-producing planet that remains nothing but a food basket. Its predators eat even their own progeny when they can't locate an immediate supply of meat. All our labor has gone for naught. 00279 exhibits not a hint of developing a sentient life form."

"And so, we are not gods." Cabrea rummaged in a container of liquid he'd brought himself, and plucked out a morsel. He eyed the wiggly flesh for a second before popping it into his mouth.

Meath scowled at him to advertise his dislike of the DeDiann's appetite for live creatures.

"The air destroys the flavor so quickly." Cabrea seemed to apologize but the audacity of his expression said different.

"Barbaric." Meath grunted.

And from behind him Cray said, "I think Cabrea means we can't artificially produce creatures with souls." She slipped around Meath to slide into a seat beside Cabrea.

"Well, Cray, I meant his gorging on live fish," Meath said. "He doesn't have to indulge in such habits in front of us. As for sentient life developing on the planet...perhaps there is still hope."

Cray's crown of knowledge began to flash symbols. The dark digits on her pale brow added and subtracted and produced sums, subtotals, and predictions. For a time she let them speak for themselves before she added her voice.

"We will run out of funds,” she said. “Without something better than we have now, to present to the Faculty Heads, I don't see much hope of continuing our present grants let alone attracting new ones."

Suddenly, Cabrea’s usual grin formed into a frown. His head shifted left to right as he sneered at his cohorts. "When will you stop pretending to be so righteous?" His tone had risen to a mild shout. "I'm not one to give up everything now that we've come this close. They want to see sentient life to continue our grants--then we give them sentient life. We have the Maladrian."

"Further change the evolution of the planet by introducing DNA from a sentient species into the Maladrian?" Meath nearly choked as he rapidly forced out the words. They had already made several inappropriate and illegal genetic corrections on the planet. Several lifetimes ago, since nothing vaguely resembling an upright animal was evolving, they had created one. The Maladrian, a small ape-like creature, had in fact been artificially produced --a gross breach in scientific techniques. They had hopes that the less furry little chimpanzee would eventually show signs of developing intelligence--it hadn't happened. Meath reminded, "That would require a new license. If it was even allowed."

"It would never be sanctioned." Cray shrugged her shoulders. "The Purists on a thousand planets would have us up on charges."

"More likely we would be exterminated for artificially creating life in human form," Cabrea said. "So, a new study is not the answer. In fact, if your calibrations are correct, Cray, we don't have the luxury of even another millennium." He tongued another wiggly fish before biting down. The crunch of the frail bones was loud in the temporary stillness.

Meath felt his stomach contract following the display.

Cabrea's lips creased in a grin as he swallowed before he continued. "We know there is only one certain way to quickly introduce a new specie."

Meath blurted out, "The Faculty would never consent."

"Of course not. But we have the means. And the perfect method so that if we are discovered they will have no actual crime to convict us of."

"Cabrea? What can you possibly have in mind?" Cray's face betrayed the truth. She was playing her games. She was not really asking Cabrea. These two had already decided. Meath knew he was being made privy to their plan because they needed him.

"Self-procreation."

"Self-procreation?" The small portly male of the O'Enra clan felt insignificant in the presence of the tall, nimble Bonsigh female and the perfect specimen of masculine DeDiann who presented such regal appearances.

The DeDiann could raise an attractive blush when caught up in something that excited him. "Who has ever condemned another species for re-producing themselves? Had our planet attracted colonists no one would have prevented their attempt to populate with their own progeny. As for an advanced civilization staking claim on an under-developed world--the precedents are uncountable.”

"The two-legged apish Maladrian females could provide suitable incubators until a stable adult society is attained." Cray was suddenly enthusiastic as if contemplating a new idea.

Meath listened to his cohorts animated conversation. He recalled his latest sexual encounters with others. They had been pleasant but not something he considered often. Oh, he enjoyed regularly stimulating his pleasure areas, and might enjoy engaging in a bit of activity with the extremely attractive body of Cabrea... But Cray...it wasn't that she was ugly. She maintained an eye-catching exterior but there was no warmness in her like he sensed in the women of his own clan. The Bonsigh in general were cold by nature, just as the DeDiann were clownish.

"To quickly create a diversified gene pool, we will need a great number of donors."

Well, that was a relief. Meath sighed. Cray obviously wasn't expecting only the three of them to provide the basic components for seeding. Cray must have been heavily researching in preparation. She appeared to have many of the details worked out.

"Since the host mothers might reject and devour the human infants, we will need to implement safeguards. Seeing as how the Maladrian is our own creation I see no crime in manipulating them further. By removing all desire for meat and placing the incubating females in a semiconscious state away from the males we can protect the young humans.

"Deprived of racial memories and natural nurturing, the humans will function mainly on instinct for some time. We will be required to provide for many generations before we can trust them to survive on their own.

"We, ourselves, will have little opportunity to rebirth. And when we do, it will have to be one at a time. We dare not allow another scientist to catch on and denounce us to the Faculty.”

A dull ache curled around Meath's original brain, which was more susceptible to sensations than the extensions, and began to squeeze. Being deprived of meditation, while being required to engage in deep thinking had this effect on him and showed in the stiffening of his facial muscles.

He closed his eyelids then opened them in time to catch the sly wink Cabrea bestowed on Cray. It was Cray's brainchild. The clown Cabrea could never have come up with such a plan. While Meath knew different, he often told himself that Cabrea only had his original brain and that didn't work to full capacity. It was Cray, with her desire to play God, who'd implanted this idea in their colleague's mind.

Meath needed to escape to his quarters, to set problems aside, to return to infancy for a time. Seeding-- fine for a quick fix when it came to introducing plants, even some of the meat animals... but a predatory species with the ability of self-awareness and none of the safeguards of ancestral knowledge.

"We will start with three distinct groups each possessing the DNA from one of our clans,” Cray said. “This will raise fewer questions and give us tighter control. Allowing a common language will help them to merge all the earlier. We must never consider nor refer to them as our children."

Meath groaned. Death and be Damned! If they were found out too soon, it wouldn't be titles bothering them.