The Children

The chime sounded five times. The loud speaker announced “end of sleep period”. The “children” awoke and dug the sleep out of their eyes. Dressing apathetically in their multi-coloured ponchos they drifted out of their dormitories and into the mess hall. 1

Conversations were subdued. The food, though all native, seem unappetising to their maturing palates. As they ate the speaker intoned a request: “Kol?”2

“Yes Watcher, what do you want?” replied the eldest of the group, their leader and spokesperson.3

The translation-delayed response came, the Watcher’s pitch and tonalities reproduced by the translation synthesizer into the “children’s” language . It had been a pleasant voice, calm, reassuring, non-patronising; but the programming turned it tinny and harsh, despite the polite formality. “Kol, I wish to speak with you privately. Would you please meet with me, after you have finished eating of course, in the dialogue space?”4

“Be there soonish, Watcher.”5

“Thank you Kol.”6

“What do you think he wants,” asked Bava, Kol’s sister and the second oldest. “He hasn’t initiated contact with us for some time.”
“Have to wait and see. What is on today’s schedule?”7

Bava consulted her clipboard. “Instructional period: planet geology.” She was good at coordinating, and ‘mothered’ the others efficiently. “Followed by callisthenics,” she continued, “then followed by lunch, a second instructional period: native species physiology. End the day with ceramic arts, dinner and entertainment. Another boring one.”8

“Well, time to go talk with the Watcher. See you later, sis.” Kol pushed himself away from the table, straightened his poncho, and strode off to meet with their prison guard. 9

They thought of their condition as imprisonment, regardless of the quality of their surroundings. They could come and go, take excursions of various distances and time intervals, explore this almost untouched planet, learn, grow. But something always seemed wrong, out of place, stilted and incomplete. They sensed this, but did not ‘know’ it. They had no proof, no objective information or collective racial memory to substantiate their apprehensions and disquiet.10

The dialogue space was a cubicle off the health and medical laboratory. It was sound proof. The Watcher controlled the door lock. There was a monitor and speaker mounted on one wall. The door closed and locked behind him as Kol entered, and the monitor screen began to luminesce. After a moment an amorphous mass appeared on the screen, shifting in spectrum from subtle greys to deep magentas, warm umbers to light greens. A shape was suggested, but not defined in any substantial, recognisable way. Kol had gotten used to the image, but hadn’t figured out yet if it was an actual representation of the Watcher, or a masque. He didn’t understand why the Watcher needed to obscure himself. Herself? Itself?11

“Greetings Kol. Thank you for coming,” the Watcher began once Kol was seated.12

“Did I have a choice?” the bitterness partially unmasked.13

Patiently, but without patronising the Watcher replied, “Yes, of course. You always have a choice.”14

“Then I choose to be rid of this prison,” Kol retorted.15

“That is a wish, Kol, not a choice,” the Watcher instructed. “But that is why I have asked you to speak privately with me. I have been ordered to terminate your protective custody, and release you all. Would that suit all the ‘children’?”16

Kol thought seriously for a moment, and then asked in open suspicion; “What is the hidden clause?”17

“There is no hidden clause, Kol. It has been two years since you were brought to this facility. I have received notification that the war between our two civilisations has ended. There is therefore no further need to keep you protected. Also, your schooling has progressed well, and it is felt that you can now survive on this planet without my assistence. After tomorrow’s sleep period ends I will release all of you; and then I will remove this facility from the planet.”18

Still suspicious, Kol asked: “Why discuss this with me alone and in private.”19

“Tomorrow is a scheduled excursion day. While you are all out I will leave. No fanfare, no farewells. No enduring memories of departure for the youngest ones. No proof that this facility ever existed. No need to remember us. But this requires that you keep this information confidential for the time being.”20

Kol pondered that for a while. “Watcher”, he said finally, “I would like some complete answers about the war and our incarceration.”21

The monitor’s image blended into a new colour scheme now; one that Kol had not seen before. 22

“Protective custody, Kol. Never imprisonment,” the Watcher corrected firmly. “What I will tell you must never be shared with the others. Do you promise that?”23

“I promise,” Kol answered. The lie did not show on his naturally pugnacious face.24

“Both of our civilisations were expanding beyond our home systems. Inevitably, we met. Your civilization found us physically and socially revolting; something so completely ‘other’ that it could not be tolerated by them. Your antecedents decided to exterminate us. Yet, in seeking to do that, they managed to destroy themselves with their own technology. You ‘children’ are the last of your kind, the hope of your race. We have no desire to destroy your race, to conquer or displace you. It grieved us so greatly that your civilization imploded. We were determined to keep all of you alive so that you could rebuild your race.” 25

Kol asked angrily, “Where are our parents, then?”26

“Just before the war started, a group of our colonists landed here, only to find that colonists from your culture had also recently arrived. As I said, your race found us so ghastly to behold, and our cultural values so abhorent that they responded to our presence aggressively. All of your adults, armed and hostile, attacked. We defended ourselves. Your colony's survivors would not surrender, and took their own lives.”27

“But what of us ‘children’?”28

The vague figure on the screen turned a darker shade. “Your parents had placed you in a secure facility, and programmed a device to kill you all should they fail in their attack upon us. Suicide, for any reason, is anathema to us. We rescued you before the device could be activated. You were then placed in this facility.”29

“But we do not remember any of this,” Kol said emphatically.30

“You were already in a state of metamorphosis. We simply placed all of you in mental stasis. During this time we dismantled all trace of your, and our, colonies, studied your medical and life support needs, and devised a curriculum appropriate to prepare you to survive on this planet. This facility was engineered, and my colleagues left me here to protect you until you could be settled here permanently.” 31

“Why did you call us ‘the Children’?”32

“It was the closest analogy we could think of. You were clearly not adults of your species, yet neither were you newborns. We had no way of judging ages or ageing in your race. Yours seemed to be an interim stage of development, thus you were deemed ‘children’.”33

“And why the lack of cultural memory?” Kol demanded.34

“Frankly, Kol, we erased it, ‘brain-washed’ you, but only of those things applying to the war. We wanted you survivors to develop a new culture free of the racial hatreds of the past. We wanted to give you a chance at developing a civilization along new lines.”35

The dialogue continued in this manner for some time, and then Kol returned to the group and their studies. Inside, he churned emotionally. But no emotions showed on his face. Bava sense his turmoil, but he dismissed her questions. 36

At breakfast on the morrow the loud speaker announced. “Special excursion today. Kol has the itinerary. It will be an extended excursion, so please prepare your nutritional supplements and fluids. You may leave at Kol’s discretion.”37

Mess hall cleaned, dormitories straightened, poncho pockets filled, the twenty-four left the facility. Twenty-two of them were in an expansive mood, as extended excursions had always filled them with wonderment at the bio-diversity of this largely unexplored arboreal planet. 38

After an hour’s travel, Kol handed the lead over to Bava, and remained behind the troop. Choosing a cliff face providing a view of the facility, he stood and waited. Soon a rumble reached his hypersensitive ears and he watched as a haze of dust and vapour enveloped the facility. He stood transfixed as the massive geodetic dome lifted off the ground, rose slowly, tilted at a twenty degree angle, and accelerated into the sky. He watched its bulk diminish and eventually disappear. All that was left of its existence was an extensive bald patch of burnt soil. He guessed that in a season or two it would become a meadow, with no tangible archaeology of the facility.39

He contemplated the empty space for some time. Then lifted his face to the mid-morning sun, bared his fangs and bellowed a roar that had never been heard by the Watcher. His leathery face contorted in an angry grimace and the colour of his skin turned a deep dark purple-grey. His yellow eyes shone in intense hatred as he recalled the end of his final conversation with the Watcher:40

“What does your race call ours?” Kol had asked, the edge in his voice discernable.41

“The Gargoyles,” the Watcher had answered. The translation programming took a while to make that meaningful in Kol’s language.
Controlling his anger he had asked, “And what do you call yourselves?”42

“Humans, Homosapiens” the Watcher replied. The program rendered that intelligible to Kol, and the arrogance of it burned into his mind. 43

Now, standing on the cliff face, Kol repeated aloud, “Humans”; “wise people”. Yes I will remember, and I will teach the others. And someday we will repay you.”44

Kol tensed his muscular six foot frame, unfolded the translucent skin that extended from his elbows down to his knees, and launched off the cliff. His multi-hued poncho enfolded the contours of his body. As he soared above the arboreal landscape, he laughed aloud at the naiveté of the Watcher and his race. When he regained the troop their future would begin. Revenge would be the centrepiece of their new civilization. And he would be its chief instrument.45

- End -46