ALONE?

Ronald W.Hull

All Rights Reserved © 2001 Ronald W. Hull

ISBN: 1-931297-92-4

Preface

What if we are alone? What if human beings are the only intelligent life in this part of the Universe? Alone? explores a possible future where humankind alone is impelled to explore and seek out other life, regardless of the results or consequences.

The Kaleidoscope Effect assumed that intelligent life was plentiful, and in need of saving. Alone? assumes that other intelligent life either doesn’t exist or is so remote that we must save ourselves.

Albert Repaul, among many others, is faced with the growing dilemma of Earth’s pending demise and how to save it. He is also faced with moral dilemmas that he must overcome. When life and death become blurred, who will rule the twenty-first century?

“The Drake Equation, originally developed as an agenda for a 1961 scientific meeting, provides a way of estimating the number of intelligent civilizations existing in our galaxy …. Among the factors considered is the number of sun-like stars in our galaxy, the fraction of habitable planets supporting communicating civilizations, etc. When these various factors are multiplied together one can compute N, the number of … civilizations. Unfortunately, many of the factors are poorly known, so estimates of N range from one (we are alone in the Galaxy) to thousands or even millions.”

—The Seti Institute

Dedication

To those who have the courage to act on their convictions, and the wisdom to change when they find that they are wrong.

Chapter 1

Nila’s Story

Ötzi Valley: 3372 BC

Nila was alone. She struggled to walk the trail along the river until it was dark, and then curled up, hungry and exhausted, in a bed of leaves and grass under a tree. She was crying, but it was a warm night, so she soon fell asleep.

Nila’s dreams were of torment, of a day that began normally, but turned to unimaginable terror. She was lucky to be alive.

“Nila, fetch some water!” When Nona called her daughter to a chore, Nila responded quickly. As the youngest, her job was to bring water from the river whenever her mother needed it. She would take a goatskin to the water’s edge where it was fast flowing and pure, and then soften the skin in the water until she could fill it. It took many trips with the goatskin to fill the pots Nona instructed her to. The water was mostly used for cooking.

Nila was learning cooking. She wanted to make wonderful soups and porridges like her mother. They were made from meat her father brought and mushrooms, leeks, roots, chestnuts, seeds, berries and other ingredients she gathered in the nearby forest with her mother. It was easy to find them this time of year. They were always gathering more and storing them away in stone and clay pots for the time when it would turn cold again.

Albere, her father, was off hunting. He was a very good hunter and always brought back meat for them to eat. She loved the smell of fresh meat cooking over the fire, but hated cutting it into pieces to dry. She also hated scraping the smelly skins with flint blades. It was necessary, though, because when winter came, they needed the skins to keep warm.

Jan, her brother, was making arrows with grandfather and the other old men, and practicing his shooting skill with the finish of each one. They used wood from the wayfaring tree because it was strong and naturally straight. They used flint for heads, the shape depending on whether the arrow would have to stun a rabbit, knock a bird from its tree nest, or pierce the tough skin of a bear. Young ravens were snared in their nests to provide a tail for the arrows so that the heavy head would fly true.

At ten notches, Jan was strong and handsome, with piercing blue eyes and long white hair flowing over his sun-darkened shoulders. He would go on the hunts soon. For now, he learned how to make long bows of yew with the old men and practiced on small animals and birds, careful not to lose any arrows he was testing. When their father returned from the hunt, Jan knew he would have to help replenish his father’s arrows.

By mid morning, Nila and Ola, her little friend, had made several trips to the river when it happened. They heard the loud, blood-curdling yells of Thals charging into the encampment, their intention to kill whatever stood in their path.

“Stay! Don’t go …!” Nila found herself yelling at Ola. But it was too late. Ola had climbed the riverbank and was already running headlong toward her mother and her fate.

Nila fled in the opposite direction. Entering the cool, waist deep water, she followed the bank until she came to an overhanging root system of a huge tree on the bank’s edge. Up under the roots, she found her hiding place. It was one of several hiding places Nona had sought out for her.

Nona had been stern. “If the bad men come, I want you to run. Not to me, but to one of these secret places we found. You must stay there, no matter what, until your father or I come to get you. Do you understand?”

As she cowered up against the muddy bank, shaking in fear, Nila understood. She could hear the shrieks and screams of those being killed amid the yells of the attackers. She strained to hear her grandfather, Jan, or her mother, but she only heard the sounds of battle and the cries of pain. It was over in a few minutes, but it seemed like hours. When it finally became quiet, she knew they were all dead.

Then, Nila heard them coming, grunting and breathing heavily from their exertion. Their stench was overwhelming. She had to keep from gagging, as one by one, the bad men came to the river. She saw their hulking bodies, their long, scraggly hair, and the bright red blood that covered them. She watched them wash the blood off. Some were wounded. She hoped that they would die as they washed their wounds. The red blood flowed by in streaks in the water before her. She held her breath so that they would not hear her. They were so close; but they were also spent, and not interested in looking for little girls hiding within reach. They finished washing, drinking great gulps from the river like wild animals, and returned to the camp.

As she waited for them to leave and her father to come, it became clear that they weren’t leaving. She smelled fires burning and her mother’s food being cooked. They were talking loudly and laughing. She could hear them going through the family’s possessions as pots broke and shelters were torn down while they looked for hidden personal items.

Occasionally, one of them would come to the river to relieve himself. He’d stand there, belching, as she smelled the pungent odor of his piss spewing out loudly. Hatred rose up in her. She wanted to jump out and kill him. Instead, she suppressed her anger, and kept silent.

By mid afternoon, all she heard was snoring, as the bad men succumbed to their exertion, food, and drink. She was cold to the bone and needed to get out of the water. She wanted to sneak up and kill one of them in his sleep, but fearing he would wake, chose to go the other way. She headed down river.

Nila woke at dawn, covered by a cold, wet dew. She could see smoke rising from where she’d come. She knew they were burning her home. In her child’s mind, she thought they’d killed her father too. She felt so alone. Still, she needed to get away; so she continued on her way, following the trails, always keeping the river to her right.

As her hunger grew, she gathered berries, seeds, and mushrooms to eat as she walked. Her mother had taught her well. Even at seven notches, she knew which ones were poisonous. Still, she was hungry. Crying and dreaming of a piece of meat or one of her mother’s hot soups, she stumbled along as the sun came up and went down again. It rained. She spent two nights shivering in the cold and wet. She saw pigs by the river. She was afraid, but more afraid to go back, so she snuck by them and continued on.

By now she was so hungry she thought she’d die. Her feet were bleeding and her legs were scratched raw. She came to a place where the familiar river joined a larger one. With no other choice, she followed it to the left in another direction. More suns passed. She struggled on.

Nila awoke to sound of splashing and laughter. “Am I dreaming?” she thought, from her hunger-induced stupor. As she sat up in the sun warmed morning grass, she saw three children, like herself, swimming in the river. She rose up and staggered toward them.

The boy, the tallest of the three, saw her first. At first startled at the sight of Nila, he recovered quickly and yelled to the others, “Look, a girl!” and scrambled up the bank. As they approached each other, Nila stumbled and fell on her face before him.

Hot soup was being poured into her mouth. It woke her up again, choking, to see strange women looking down at her. The soup wasn’t her mother’s, but it was the best thing she’d tasted in many suns. Nila saw the boy that found her standing off to the side, smiling shyly. She was glad to see him.

Nila was now in the land of the Po. She didn’t speak their language, but it was similar, so she learned quickly. The Po lived in wood and stone shelters and didn’t move with the seasons like her family had. Instead, they put seeds into the ground and waited for them to grow. They grew a vining fruit she already knew called grapes and seeds from grass they called wheat. The seeds from this wheat were crushed and made into a paste they cooked until it grew hard. She had never tasted bread before. She liked it.

Aldo, the boy who found her, became her big brother, and she joined his large family. She helped the women the same way Aldo’s sisters did. She ate their bread and fish from the river. She learned to swim, naked, with the others. She learned to catch fish with a basket they wove from reeds. They covered their bodies with a soft woven fabric of animal fur or plants. They called it cloth. Her family had only used animal skins and furs for this purpose.

Nila was safe and secure with the Po, and leaned many things. Still, she longed for her family. Sometimes she dreamed they weren’t dead. They were happy dreams until she woke to them gone.

Five Years Later

Nila dreamed that she was being held down. She wasn’t dreaming! A strong hand was clamped over her mouth. She tried to bite it, but rough fingers held her jaw so tight she couldn’t open her mouth. The smell was unmistakable. “Thals!” She was lifted up from her bed, taken from the shelter she shared with two of Aldo’s sisters, and was being carried off into the night.

There were seven of them. They slipped into the village at night, like foxes, when everyone was sleeping and stole Nila and Aldo’s sisters, Gina and Lena. Just beyond the village, the men stopped, and a leather strap was tied to force wadded leather her open mouth. She could not yell, only breathe. Her hands and arms were tied tightly behind her back. Then, one of the bigger men threw her over his shoulder and carried her upriver along the same trails she had come. She slept no more. She just endured his hard grip on her as the undulation of his walking carried them far into the night, branches of passing trees alternately scratching, and then caressing her. It was a moonlit night, so they walked until dawn. Far away, in the morning, the Po people were waking to find them gone.

Tied tightly to a tree while the men slept, Nila was hungry and thirsty. She tried to communicate with Gina and Lena, tied to trees beside her, but they were both gagged, so they could only talk with their eyes. Gina was clearly frightened; looking like she was going to die. Nila was angry. She wanted to kill.

Their captors awoke and immediately started arguing. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the way they looked at her, she knew it was about her. In the daylight, the one who had carried her so easily was quite tall and handsome, for a Thal. He had blue eyes, a wispy blond beard, and a wavy brown head of hair flowing over his shoulders. His broad shoulders were bare, revealing muscular upper arms. He had no hair on his chest and back. The others were quite hairy. He was younger than the others, but seemed to be in charge. When he started to untie a stone ax he carried at his side, the older man confronting him grew silent, as did the others.

He came directly to Nila. His eyes were bright and he smiled slightly as he untied her gag. The wadded leather fell out of her mouth. Her jaw ached. She wanted to spit in his face, but something stopped her. The others moved to the other two girls, and untied their gags too.

She could feel his hand on her leg as he stared intently into her eyes. She glanced down and saw it move up under her short leather skirt. She felt his finger exploring, then his finger was inside. “Virgo!” he cried out.

She had felt that before. Not long before, when the water finally got warm enough, she and Aldo had gone swimming in the evening after chores almost every day. With Aldo’s guidance, she had become a superb swimmer. While they were still afraid to cross to the other side, like the bigger boys, both swam under water like fish. Nila loved swimming under the clear water to grab his kicking legs and pull him under.

As a young girl with only bumps for breasts, Nila wore only a short leather skirt in summer. Her bumps were very sensitive, and hurt sometimes, but she told no one. Not having a mother, she did what Aldo’s sisters did. Leather was very heavy when wet, so she always left her skirt on the bank, next to Aldo’s loincloth of leather.

That evening, after playing with his legs like that, they emerged from the shallow water near the bank facing each other. Aldo’s peeing tool was standing up like a stick. Seeing an opportunity, she grabbed it like she had his legs.

“Hey!” Aldo yelled, and began to reach for her bumps, but she was too fast for him. Nila climbed the bank and ran.

He caught up to her in the tall grass and brought her down like a running goat. She was on her back. He pinned her arms down with his knees and began playing with her nipples. It felt good. She relaxed a bit, observing his rigid peeing tool at close range. In all the times she’d seen him pee, he always turned away. She had never seen its head before, all red and swollen. And then he turned his attention to her peeing place. It felt strange, but good, like her nipples.

Then, he was hurting her. She tried to push him off, but he was persistent until he started jerking wildly and she felt him peeing inside her. After that, Aldo appeared embarrassed, and ran off.

She was bleeding, so she went to the river and washed off. She stopped bleeding quickly, and was relieved. She didn’t swim with Aldo in the evening after that. He hung around like a sick dog, but she waved him away. She was feeling the good part of that now.

“Virgo!” The Thal that had been arguing probed Gina next to her. Gina squirmed and moaned but the leather in her mouth prevented her from crying out. Nila felt the fingers of the young man’s free hand press to her lips, his eyes burning into hers and the smile gone from his face. She wanted to scream, but didn’t.

“Naahhh!” She heard the Thal with Lena cry out. Four of them then untied Lena from the tree and threw her to the ground. Pulling their huge peeing tools from their loincloths, they took turns with her. The one with Gina, his long, matted hair streaked with white, and another with pure white hair, did nothing but stand by and watch.

Lena kicked and scratched and tried to bite them, but they were too strong. Her screams turned to whimpers, and finally, she was silent. Nila whimpered against the fingers to her mouth. She could have bitten them, but she didn’t. Tears streamed down her face and wet her captor’s fingers. Gina was crying and whimpering too.

Lena lay there battered and bleeding. She could have run, but it was no use. They would have caught up with her quickly. Instead, she sat up, a sullen look on her face, and rearranged her bloody skirt.

Gina’s gag was untied. She wanted to spit at her tormentor, but she didn’t. She feared what had happened to Lena. The men brought dried meat and water. It was all they would get all day. Even Lena was ravenous, fearing they would leave her to starve.

The girls were untied from their trees, and then their hands were bound in front at the wrist. The men bathed first in the river, and then led the girls in. Nila thought of swimming downstream, but a long leather tether prevented that. Her captor had a tight grip on it. After she had washed herself as best she could with her hands tied, he tied the tether to his waist and pulled her out.

The men headed upriver—fast—pulling the girls behind them. Nila’s feet were tough from going barefoot, but the rocks and sticks took their toll. She wondered about Lena behind her. It was all she could do to keep up, to keep from being pulled forward, tripping and stumbling to the ground.

At dusk, they stopped, ate a little dried meat, and tied the girls, sitting, to trees. After a hard night of dozing off to strange dreams, Nila’s feet felt better, but her arms and wrists were sore from her tight binds.

The four Thals started after Lena again, but the young man, stone ax raised, stopped them. He shook his head in disgust. He had a purpose they didn’t understand. She sensed that he wanted the girl alive. And she had to walk—fast.

The days fell into routine. After four or five suns walking, she could no longer keep track, she saw the big tree in the distance and she started weeping. The forest had reclaimed the encampment, young trees poked up from the ashes of their burned shelters. Broken pots and stone tools were scattered about, signaling former habitation. Although it was only mid afternoon, her captor stopped and surveyed the scene.

Two of the men went hunting. Nila, still tethered to her captor, whose name she had learned was Tsun, searched the camp together, but they found little. When they found a large stone pot, Nila motioned with her hands that she wanted to make a soup. Tsun and the others were amused. But the young leader, once again, came to her aid. He untied her aching wrists and numb hands, and retied the tether around her neck. Then, he let her lead him into the forest. The other girls were then tethered the same way, and put to helping her find leeks, nuts and mushrooms. The two hunters returned with a small deer. While they cut it up, drinking the blood and eating the heart and liver raw, Nila took the leg bones, broke them to reveal the marrow, and then sucked some out before throwing them in the soup.

The men roasted the deer meat on a fire Tsun made with flint. Nila moved some the burning branches around the heavy stone pot. The girls cut up what they had found and added it to water they had brought from the river. Soon, her soup was boiling. They found three unbroken carved wooden ladles and tried to sip the soup without burning themselves. It was the best food they had tasted in many suns.

When all were sated, Tsun went off and came back with a goatskin filled with potion. He must have cached it on the trail on the trip down. It was obvious they had used this camp before. The men sat around the campfire and loudly laughed and boasted until the sun went down. They forced Lena to gulp the strong drink. By dark, once again tied to a tree, Nila heard their grunts and cried. Lena remained sullen and silent in her drunken state.

The small amount of deer meat that was left was wrapped in leaves and put in the leather bags the men carried. The remaining soup filled two goatskins. Nila and Gina gathered mushrooms, nuts, and berries for the journey ahead.

Lena had a hard time waking the next morning. Seeing that she would rather be dragged than follow walking any more, her tormentors took turns carrying her. It was good. As the trail left the river and wound uphill, Nila caught glimpses of her sleeping while being carried. She never would have made that rough walk.

After two suns, they came to a place where the trail steepened, and the ground became rocky. Nila’s tough feet began to hurt again. She knew of this place. Her father, Albere, had talked of the Alps many times with the old men around the campfire. She had helped her mother sew the special clothes he needed to go there and hunt. Now, she was about to see them herself. Far ahead, she could see the white tops rising to the sky itself. Were they going there?

They left the trail and soon came to a spot that could have been a place a bear would hibernate under an overhanging rock, except that logs had long ago fallen in front of the opening. The men removed the logs carefully and revealed a cache of food, furs, and leather clothing. Nila was amazed at their ingenuity. When the cache had been removed, the logs were placed back exactly as they had been. It became obvious that the Thals used this place often.

The boots were wonderful. When stuffed with grass, they were also warm and comfortable. The leather coverings were large, heavy and uncomfortable, but they would be needed soon. Nila hadn’t slept the last two nights because she was so cold. The furs would be a burden, but they, too, would keep them warm. Her father had worn such clothes in the Alps. Nila, at twelve notches, was about to join him.

They climbed all morning on a time worn trail that showed no signs of recent use, except the prints of deer and goats. Tethers were tied waist to waist, allowing the girls to carry their heavy trappings and keep their balance. The deep forest gave way to rocky meadows and white-topped peaks loomed all around them. Nila had heard her father’s stories, but it was still strange to look down on the tallest trees, so far below.

By midday, they were surrounded by snow. Nila’s strong young legs were aching, her body hot and her breathing labored. The sun was strong and bright, but the air was sharp and cold against any exposed skin. Nila had always enjoyed the sight of the first snow of winter, but grew to hate the cold that killed and took their food until the spring came. That’s why her family had marked a life tree, to celebrate surviving the snow and cold one more winter.

No one could live in this barren place. It was winter in summer up here in the sky. It was all rock and snow. Nila saw nothing growing and was glad they had food with them. Suddenly, the sky that had been so bright and blue became white with fast moving clouds that closed in around them. They pushed on, heads down, as sleet pummeled them, barely finding their way.

They were headed down now, and the sleet turned to heavy, cold rain. Lightning flashed about them, and the thunder shook their bodies and hurt their ears. Their leather and fur coverings were soaked and heavy, making it hard to keep their footing as they staggered down the steep, rain-slicked trail. Just when she thought they would all die on the mountain, the clouds opened a bit, so that she could see the tops of trees ahead.

Finally, they found a level place amid tall trees by a roaring stream. Crawling up under small trees on soft beds of wet moss and tree needles, they huddled through the night in the cold and wet. Nila crawled in close to Tsun for warmth. He put his arms around her and pulled her in.

Nila awoke, still wet, but warm, at first light. A mist hung in the trees, but the stream no longer roared, and birds were singing. They ate what little food they had left and started climbing again. The girls were untethered. The exertion heated their wet coverings, drying them. By mid day, they were, once again, high in the mountains. This time it did not storm. As they descended into the waning sun, a great lake came into view. Tsun in the lead, the first to see it, announced, “Züricsee!”

They spent two suns at the lake, resting and gathering food. Nila and the girls fashioned nets and caught some fish in the icy waters. The Thals caught fish with their hands in the small streams that came down to the lake. There was no soup or bread, but they ate their fill and filled their bags. And Lena suffered in silence again. No one was tethered or tied. Even Lena would not run now. They were too dependent on these strange, brutal men.

More mountains lay ahead, until one day early, they crested a rise to see rolling hills and a plain beyond. Nila could see forever. The world was larger than she thought. Below, smoke from campfires rose in the warm, still air. “Gals!” Tsun once again announced. They tethered the girls again and headed straight for the camp.

Spotters had long announced their coming. By the time they arrived, the sun was late in the sky, and the whole camp, about fifty people of all ages, came to greet them.

Tsun, his ax held high, led the group into the camp. A great cry rose from the Gals when they arrived. They gathered in a circle in the center of the camp. The women brought food and drink for all to eat. There was meat and summer fruits. Nila even drank the strong potion from the wooden cup they placed in her wrist-tied hands. It burned her mouth and throat. Then, she got very warm and her mind went numb. After that, she relaxed and the food tasted very good. She had to pee, but held it.

Tsun and Gor, Gina’s protector, were in heated negotiations with the leaders of the Gals. Gina was brought before them, touched and turned by all. She had been given the potion, too, so she did not complain, just stumbled sleepily about. The Gals brought copper, gold, and silver items, fine leather coverings, spears and axes, and many tools to the trade. A great yell rose up upon conclusion of the trade, but it was dark and Nila was falling in and out of sleep.

The women took Nila and Gina to the edge of the camp. As her bindings were being untied, Nila was jumping up and down in her urge to pee. The women quickly took the girls, in the dark, to a stinky peeing place, and they both relieved themselves. Nila was glad that she couldn’t see. She almost vomited from the smell.

Back in a shelter with young women, Nila and Gina quickly fell asleep. They didn’t hear the men celebrating until they too fell asleep—drunk. They didn’t hear Lena’s screams.

The girls were awakened before dawn, given soup, taken for another pee, and then tended to in great detail. First, they were scrubbed with warm water-soaked skins, and then their hair was combed and braided. Nila was given a leather dress of soft skin like she had never worn.

Gina’s dress was of white doeskin, decorated with fur from several small animals. Nila had never seen such a beautiful dress. The women then brought out copper and silver plates woven with sinew to white bone, forming a breastplate of great beauty. Their faces were rubbed with fragrant oils. The breastplate was placed on Gina. Nila was given lesser, but still beautiful, ornaments.

When the sun was high, they were led from the shelter into the light. The whole camp had gathered in the circle, men on one side, and women and children on the other. Gina was led to a boy who appeared to be about Aldo’s age, on the side of the men. The boy was oiled and his long brown hair braided. His chest and arms were bare, except for the leather armbands of a hunter. He had a copper necklace and a stone ax tied to his waist.

Nila was placed next to Gina. She saw Tsun towering over the boy on the other side. An old man with white hair and a fur coat covered with many amulets came into the circle. He spoke many incantations Nila did not understand and brought foul-tasting potions for them to drink. The women began a chant that reached a pitch that put shivers down Nila’s back. Just when she couldn’t stand it, they stopped.

They were then taken to where furs had been placed for them to sit on. The women and girls began bringing them many foods to eat—some good and some strange. Grape potion made it easier for Nila to eat the things before her. She didn’t want to get sick, but so much food, so quick, after nearly starving took its toll. Gina started throwing up beside her. The women took them to the stinky place where they both threw up the remains of what they’d eaten. Feeling better, they were brought back to the furs for more food and drink. Nila saw Lena with a group of camp girls. She didn’t acknowledge Nila’s glance.

Nila was aware of Tsun’s watchful eye on her. She returned his glances with smiles. She was beginning to like him a lot. She understood little of the babble of voices around her. She did not understand his language, but she understood him. They were beginning to communicate.

Late in the day, the men came and got Gina. She and the boy were taken to a small wood shelter at the edge of the circle and pushed in. Two men stood guard at the small opening. Before long, there was the sound of struggle coming from the shelter, then screams—Gina’s screams. Everyone just continued to eat and drink and said nothing. The guards at the opening did nothing. Nila stopped eating, frustrated, and thoughts of killing rose in her head. Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore, the boy appeared in the opening and raised a bloody hand. The camp cheered, and the boy slipped back inside. Nila never heard Gina again. She never saw Gina again.

The next morning, very groggy from the grape potion, Tsun pulled up Nila from her sleep and they were soon walking fast again, away from the camp of the Gals. Lena was with them, carried by Gor. Nila was untied, following Tsun on her own.

They traveled through deep forest, keeping the great mountains to their right until they disappeared. They skirted camps and avoided contact. They crossed many rivers and small streams. Nila began to communicate more and more with Tsun and the other captors. Word by word, she was learning the Thal language. She didn’t have to speak when she crawled into Tsun’s arms at night. She rarely talked to Lena, except sometimes when they were foraging for food. Lena had come to accept her fate, telling Nila that it didn’t hurt so much if she didn’t struggle. She was surviving.

After a moon of suns, they came to a place where the forest opened to marshy grasses, and they reached a great river. “Rine!” Tsun called it. The Thals were euphoric; their joy grew with each step. Then, near nightfall, they smelled the smoke of campfires, and tired as they were, everyone broke into a run. Yelling and waving their weapons high, they rushed into the camp. They were greeted with equal enthusiasm.

Tsun rushed to a white-haired man that looked like him, hugged him, and lifted him high. The old man’s stature, headdress, and clothing suggested that he was the leader. Tsun then dragged the old one to Nila, speaking loudly and gesturing wildly. The old man looked Nila up and down and smiled broadly. “Yellowhair!” was what Nila translated that she thought he said of her.

The celebration began.

In the morning, she found herself, once again, being dressed in fine doeskin with fur trim. Again, copper ornaments adorned her body. Lena was similarly dressed. They were led out to the center of camp. Like before, an old man pronounced incantations. The camp sang, and then celebrated with food and drink. At dusk, Tsun took her hand, and waving goodbye, took her up river until it was dark. They lay down in a bed of soft leaves. Before long the food and drink overtook them. Nila slept safe and warm in his strong arms. Near dawn, she felt him doing what Aldo had. Only this time it felt good. Before long, they both slept again. At dawn, with a quick flip of his ax, Tsun killed a small squirrel that had curiously peeked in on them. He let the squirrel bleed on his right hand, then, he smeared some of the blood on Nila’s clothes and peeing place. It felt so good, Nila wanted to play some more, but he put the squirrel in a bag and they walked back to the camp. The whole camp cheered when he raised his blood-dried hand to them coming in.

Winter came quickly. Nila, Lena, and the other women barely had time to gather nuts and berries before cold winds and snow set in. Lena was already carrying a baby in her belly, and it slowed her work and made her sick. There were many skins to scrape, chew, and sew. These people dressed with much more fur than she remembered. She soon found out why. At least she had Tsun to help keep her warm at night.

When the snow was deep and they had to stay near their shelters and fires, Nila began to get sick. The old women told her she was having a baby, and the camp celebrated. The fever came, and some of the old and small children got it and died. Their bodies were left, frozen, near the river. If they ran out of food, it was the custom of the Thals to eat the dead. Tsun and the young men were good hunters, so they had fresh meat even in the coldest times. They never had to eat the dead. When the winter got too bad for the old ones, they wandered off alone and never came back. The younger people often fought for the missing one’s possessions.

Before the snow melted, Lena’s baby came. Lena was not strong. Her spirit had been broken and she could not tolerate the cold weather. Her feet were already swollen and turning black when she was overcome with the pain of birth. She died. The old women had to cut the baby from her.

The baby, a girl, was small and sickly. Nila tried to nurse it with her growing, painful breasts, but it too, died within a few short suns. Nila had named it, Gina, but mother and child joined the growing pile of bodies by the water’s edge. They were covered with snow to keep the wolves from them. Hungry wolves often came into the camp at night and had to be driven off. In the spring, the ice went out on the river one night with a great cracking and groaning. In the morning, the dead were gone with the ice. There were fish in the river again.

Nila had learned many things, and the hard winter had made her strong. She found a young tree and carved thirteen notches on it. There were other young trees for her children nearby. Tsun killed a mother bear and her two cubs in their den. Nila drank the mother’s milk and ate her fat meat, in preparation for her own baby, growing inside her. The cubs’ fur coats became a bed for the expected one.

He came when the sun was warm and the grass was tall. Everything was in bloom and the bees led them to honey. With great pain and joy he came, Tor, their first son. He was big, and healthy, and Nila had enough milk for him. He would grow quickly and strong. And his father would soon leave.

With Tor to her breast and tears in her eyes, Nila waved her husband off. These annual raids were a part of Thal ritual that stretched back beyond memory. As soon as the young men were strong enough, they joined the raiding parties. There were usually two. Tsun was now the clear leader of the one that brought virgins to the Gals. Their alliance with the Gals was necessary because the Gals were the guardians to the passage into the mountains, and the Gals were the source of the grape potion, copper, and many other fine trade goods.

Tsun’s father Rork, too old to participate in raids, was the leader of the Thals. He and a few men stayed to protect the camp and hunt to provide meat for the women and children. The annual raids brought young women for wives and concubines for the young warriors. Their customs favored the young men. Women like Lena, were considered stupid and expendable. Nila would change that.

Tsun had given Nila a flint knife. Two of them had come to her sleeping place at night. Both of them were stabbed. One almost died from his wound. Nila helped care for him. No one bothered her after that. She showed the women how to find herbs and foods they hadn’t gathered before. Her soups and porridges became legend. The fish she snared in her reed baskets became a staple of the camp. The young men and women watched her swimming in the cold, Rine water, naked, and envied her. They soon learned to swim and followed her in.

When the leaves were turning Tsun returned, with two young girls from a tribe she did not know. He carried with him a bag of the wheat seed he’d promised her. He was astounded to see his strong baby boy, Tor, with his curly head of yellow hair and bright blue eyes, crawling about the camp annoying everyone with his bellowing yells and incessant appetite.

With Tsun’s help, Nila burned some dry marsh grass on a high, sunny riverbank. Then with his stone ax, they broke the strong root system up and freed the soil for planting. By the time the snow came, Nila could see the young wheat growing up through the bare dirt they’d prepared.

Nila’s second winter with the Thals was much better than the first. Perhaps it was the dried fish or the abundance of meat. The fever did not come and it wasn’t so cold. No one died and no one walked off to die. By midwinter, Nila found that she was having a baby again.

But, before the spring, she awoke one night having the baby too early. Ill formed, it died at birth.

In the spring, when she carved her fourteenth notch on her life tree, she carried Tor with her, to carve one on his.

Fifteen Years Later

The years had been good for the Thals. Each year they grew more wheat. They now grew enough to have bread nearly through the winter. The raids had been successful, bringing riches from trade and plunder, and new blood. Tor had grown tall and strong. When Rork had seen that his grandson would become a great leader, he gave in to his pain and walked peacefully off into the winter to die. Nila had several babies, but they all were born too soon and died. Each one weighed heavy on her heart. Tsun took to the concubines. Some of their babies were his. None knew for sure, although some claimed their right to leadership.

Nila, with no daughters to help her, faced increasing opposition from the other women during the long summer raids. The flint knife, once used to ward off errant Thal men, now served her when jealous women and their daughters tried to steal her possessions or take her life in the night.

Tor wanted to lead a raiding party. He was bigger and stronger than Tsun when Nila first saw him. Tsun would not hear of it. With only three raids under his belt, Tsun felt Tor too inexperienced to lead a raid. Once again, Tor left with his father.

Nila spent the summer tending the wheat, fishing, and teaching the young to swim. She was still strong, but her breasts, pulled from nursing so many others’ babies hung down, her teeth were bad and falling out, her skin was brown and cracked from the wind and sun, and her blond hair was streaked with gray. Most of all, she ached in her joints. She had had the tattoos placed on her knees and ankles by the elders. Painful as they were, the tattoos did nothing to ease the aches that kept her from sleeping in the night.

The first raiding party arrived to exaltation. Weddings were held and the camp celebrated for days. Nila waited through the waning summer into the fall. Tsun and Tor did not arrive. The wives of the other Thals missing with her husband and son began to blame her, as if she was the cause of their missing loved ones.

The wheat was harvested and stores were put in for the winter. Without the hunting skills of Tsun and Tor, there was less dried meat. The snow arrived early, and with it came hope that they would arrive. Nila remained silent and stoic. While she imagined what tragedy might have befallen them, she never knew.

As the winter wore on. There wasn’t enough meat to eat. The fever came again and took the old and small children. Bodies piled up by the river. The blame was directed toward Nila. She saw that the wheat would not last. The wolves came nightly to feed on the dead. She was so alone and tired. She could no longer cope.

One cold morning, she wrapped herself in furs, took a small piece of bread, and walked out on the ice of the Rine. By mid morning, she felt warm, even though her joints ached and it was bitter cold. The sun was so bright she could see the evergreen-forested slope on one side and the never-ending marsh on the other. Hers were the only tracks as she struggled with the deep snow in some places and bare ice in others. But she saw little of it. Her mind was filled with desperate days running with her love, Tsun, and the glorious times when she watched Tor grow from a beautiful boy to a strong, smart man. How could this have happened? She remembered all the homecomings and the stories Tsun told. She cried while she thought of them. The tears burned her dry eyes and ran cold down her cheeks.

The sun went down. She was tired now. She sat down. She could not feel her feet. They were warm. She was warm. The cold, still sky became a canopy of stars. They were warm and bright. She thought of flying up to them like the birds. The sky filled with waves of colored, moving light. She had seen them before, but she had never seen them like this. Is that where she was going? Towards those lights? Her body was floating. Maybe she would fly.

Her memories grew more vivid. She thought of her mother combing her hair, with Ola playing nearby. She thought of her great childhood journey, where she learned to love the mighty Tsun. She thought of Tor, her only son. These thoughts ran together and became one. By morning she was gone. She died alone.

Chapter 2

Seti II, Pharaoh of Egypt

The Palace at Avaris: 1200 B.C.

Seti was alone. The circumstances that brought him to this place were unsettling, but the gods had ordained them. He, Seti II, Powerful of Forms, the Chosen One of Ra, King of Kings, and direct descendent of Osiris, was utterly alone. He could trust no one. His mind was exhausted from thinking of ways to stave off the jackals at his door. How would he outsmart them? He could only trust Tausert—or could he?

Why had the old man lived so long? His shadow, thirteen years after his death, was still long. Ramesses the Great had conquered the Nubians, Syrians, and Libyans, defeated the Sea Peoples, and appeased the Hittites. Gathering two hundred wives and concubines about him, including two of his most strong and beautiful daughters, Binthanath and Merytamon, he had fathered 96 sons and sixty daughters. Among them many dwarfs, albinos, and imbeciles—the curse of kings.

The monuments to Seti’s grandfather were visible everywhere. Two temples at Abu Simbel, the hypostyle hall at Thebes, a mortuary complex at Abydos, the Colossus of Ramesses at Memphis, his vast tomb in the Valley of the Kings, his additions at the Luxor Temple, and the Ramesseum were all testimony to his long life, amassed wealth, and journey into the afterlife. And his image, carved on statues and stellae throughout the kingdom, was everywhere. Seti, if the priests would permit, would have had his countenance carved over every one.

The priests were part of the problem. Beginning with Ramesses’ son, Prince Kha-m-was, High Priest of Ptah and Governor of Memphis, the priests had begun to exert power over the right of the quarreling royal family to rule. Their meddling made it hard for Seti to carry out his destiny and join Osiris in the underworld. He didn’t have much time.

On the other hand, if the old man had not lived so long, then Merenptah, Ramesses’ fourteenth son, and Seti’s father, would not have come to the throne. Seti remembered well—joining his father in battle when famine drove the Sea Peoples and the Libyans across the Egyptian borders again. Joining together, the invaders had overrun the eastern oases and soon came to threaten Heliopolis and Memphis. Hating hand-to-hand combat, it was he, Commander of the Egyptian Armies, who suggested to his father that they save their chariots and use their archers at a distance. He remembered with great pride—the stunning victory as the Libyans were skewered by wave after wave of Egyptian arrows. Those that lived and could not retreat to the desert were caught and thrown into slavery. Merenptah had come to the throne in his fiftieth year. At sixty, he joined his father in a tomb in the Valley of the Kings. It should have been Seti’s turn to rule.

But Seti had to wait three more years for Amenmesse, seventeenth son of Ramesses II and his Hittite concubine, to die before taking his rightful place. The meddling priests, with the assistance of Bay, the Syrian butler who had worked his way into power among the weak, but rich, sons of Ramesses, had slipped Amenmesse into kingship of the Upper Kingdom and Nubia while Seti was doing his father’s business guarding the Delta.

Seti loved lingering with the Nubian women of which there were many in the Army camps. If any bore his seed, he never knew. He only knew that the Nile was at flood, and, only after it receded did he learn that his father had died and he had been disenfranchised. The high priests invested Amenmesse—Amen fashioned him, the ruler of Thebes—at Thebes and immediately began work on his tomb. While Amenmesse lived, the priests controlled Upper Egypt. Seti still controlled the Army, but he was sick and no longer possessed a zest for fighting. The brutal killing for pleasure of his youth no longer pleased him. Now, he preferred that others do it for him.

Some said that Amenmesse was poisoned. Maybe he died of his own advancing age. He was clearly a pawn, used to enrich the priesthood and consolidate the power of Bay. Before Amenmesse’s usurpery, Seti had honored Amenmesse by naming his second son after him, just as he’d named his first son, Seti Merenptah, after his own father. Unfortunately, young Seti, while under his command, had died in battle, and young Amenmesse, a deformed imbecile, left him no true heirs. He had their mother, Takhat, put to death for bearing them, and sought to have Tausert, still childless, but a consort in the Court and granddaughter of Ramesses II, succeed him.

Seti was building his royal Bark-Shrine at the Temple to Amun in Thebes. The shrine would appease the gods and insure him a peaceful journey into the afterlife. Already his skin was yellow and his stomach pained him. He knew he was dying. He’d seen this disease before. But he refused to let it stop him. He surrounded himself with Nubians. He had one of them eat and drink every food and refreshment before he would touch it. He would not let the priests near his chambers. They had many ways to poison him. He had seen his favorite Nubian, a big, strong fellow, writhe and die in the time it took to cross the room—asp venom. But they had ways to kill you slow, so he had to guard against that, too.

Tausert and he had to appear at all the great festivals. He had the Nubians oil him with dark oils so that the priests and common people wouldn’t see his yellowing skin. He fashioned Tausert to succeed him and be a great Queen like Hatshepsut. He envisioned her having a long life. After her reign, the priests and the hyenas could take the hindmost—he’d be long gone into the afterlife. For now, he must see to it that the way was clear.

His plan was forming even while Amenmesse reigned in the Upper Kingdom. To be accepted into the afterlife, he would have to amass many monuments and riches to please the gods and sustain his akh on his journey through the underworld. To raid the old man or his father was out of the question. Since Amenmesse was of no consequence, he would immediately begin having the stone carvers carve over all monuments attributed to Amenmesse. The tomb of Amenmesse was also of little consequence. It contained few riches. For what he needed, he needed a grave robber. But who? The priests guarded the tombs of the kings with their lives. He could send the Army, but he needed the gods’ favor to continue.

The answer was simple. Seti had seen how Kha-mwas had looked at Tausert in the Court. All he had to do was get Tausert to seduce Kha-m-was, and the keys to the tombs would open to him.

Tausert, still young and beautiful, had long since stopped sleeping with Seti. But she was no fool. She knew that her destiny was tied to his, so she stayed close to him. They were alone on the great verandah, watching the bloody sun set over the West Nile when he proposed it to her.

“Tausert, you know I have great plans for you. But you also know that I must take my place among the great kings in the afterlife if you are to succeed me. I have prayed to Ra (he lied) and he has spoken to me. You must go to Memphis and seek the counsel of Kha-m-was. I have seen how he looks at you. I want you to give yourself to him, then threaten, cajole, and bribe him, if necessary, to get him to give us a tomb. If it is rich enough, we will have what we need to carry us beyond. I do not have long in this life. You must do this for me.” He had moved behind where she sat and feigned tenderness by placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

Tausert was on the Royal Barge in the morning. The barge was fully fitted with fifty retainers, befitting a queen. Her subjects flocked to the riverbank as she passed, bowing in submission. She felt powerful. She felt, with Seti’s help, she would fulfill her own destiny. It was a short trip to Memphis; she arrived at midday on the second day. The entire morning had been spent preparing her. Maids plucked her eyebrows, polished her teeth, filed her nails, and then bathed her in fragrant oils. Her hair was cut, combed, and arranged to perfection. Artists painted her eyes with color to accent her beauty. The priests of the temple, led by Kha-m-was himself, lined the path to the Temple of Ptah. She took note if any were missing. They would be punished.

The meeting followed the long established ritual of the meetings between royalty and clergy. As High Priest of Ptah and Governor of Memphis, Kha-m-was was the first to greet her and escort her entourage to the Temple, then on to the governor’s palace. Although their meeting was ceremonial, the looks that passed between the two were electric with anticipation. She had come to honor the passing of the great Amenmesse to the underworld, to seek the counsel of the high priest on the priests’ plans for assisting him on his journey.

Kha-m-was was prepared for the Queen’s visit. At the end of the day’s ceremonial events, he had arranged for a private dinner with the Queen in his chambers to allow them to discuss the matters she had brought from Avaris. He could hardly contain his feelings as he escorted her to the Temple, anointed her with the sacred oils, and gave sacrifices to the gods for the successful consummation of their affairs. She saw the sweat on his brow. She saw his hands shake as he passed her the sacred goblet. She knew she had him. He had done these rituals a thousand times before. But, he’d never done them with such passion. She was so beautiful. She seemed so vulnerable in her mourning. He could hardly contain himself. He didn’t care what she would talk to him about. He only wanted to talk to her … to touch her.

Kha-m-was allowed only two trusted Syrian servants to serve them on the balcony of the palace, overlooking his father’s monuments. He had prepared rare fruits and delicacies only a high priest could obtain. He opened formally, trying not to reveal his anxiety. “Queen Tausert, I am so pleased that you have come to assist us with our duty to escort King Amenmesse to the afterlife. Such matters are so solemn. Your presence adds beauty and grace to our responsibilities.” He quavered as he spoke, observing a droplet of sweat forming on her breast just above her almost transparent, flowing cotton gown.

“No need to be ceremonial, Kha. You are a remarkable man. I always enjoy being in your presence. Your mastery of the sacred rituals leaves me weak. It is though you know the gods personally.” She alternately popped bird hearts and grapes into her mouth. Each movement of her lips an invitation, her eyes flashing approval.

Kha-m-was moved closer. He could feel her heat and smell her fragrance. He wanted her but didn’t know how to say it. “I remember you from the Court. You were the most beautiful and carefree child there. I was always so serious, always trying to please father.”

“But you were tall and smart. I suffered when you entered the priesthood. And … cunning, too. That’s why he chose you.” She was glowing; her eyes fixed on his every word.

“He needed me to help control the power of the priests. I never regretted entering this high calling. I do regret the opportunity to be with women like you.”

“Who’s to know?” Tausert gave him one of her best knowing looks and ran her fingertips up and down the inside of his forearm. Then, she stood and, taking hold of his right hand, beckoned him to stand. When he did, she led him into his bedchamber.

Full of pent up longing and lust, they tore at each other like animals. Only the Syrians heard their cries.

At dawn, Tausert rose, slipped her gown on, and stood in the doorway to the balcony. The new sun shown through her, outlining her body within the gown. Kha-m-was rose to his elbows to get a better view.

“Did you like last night, Kha?” Her voice had a strange, interrogative tone.

“I did. It was as though I touched the gods.” Kha-mwas was feeling poetic.

“You can have me often. … Or … I can expose you for what you are … a heretic!” Her timing was perfect, her pauses dramatic. She meant to get his attention. And, she got it.

“Wha …what do you mean?” The poetry was gone.

“A tomb. We want a tomb, or Seti and I will expose you for what you are. Do you understand?” Her voice was now rough. She turned to look at him. Her eyes were narrow and mean. “One of your trusted Libyans has been spirited away and is under the protection of my staff. She will bear witness to Seti of your transgressions before all. Your father will be labored in his journey when the gods tell him of it. Call her if you dare. She will not come.”

“A tomb? What do you want a tomb for?”

“Seti is very ill. He has not long for this world. He has no time to prepare and gather the possessions he will need to carry him into the afterlife. We will honor your father, but he robbed the Kingdom of precious materials and objects in his long preparation. We need vessels from a lesser king. You must persuade the guardians in Thebes to take some from a tomb.”

“But the kings cannot be violated. We are chosen to guard their journeys with our lives.”

“So be it. But you will no longer be a guardian—if you live.” Tausert was sinking her talons in. “Besides, who would know if a lesser king, say Tutankhamun, had lost his treasures. You priests are so good at keeping secrets. Besides, we all know that the boy was just a pawn of Ay and Horemheb. He never ruled. They just used him to their purpose. Why, do you think, he died so young? Just when he began to realize his power as Pharaoh, they killed him in his bed. One cowardly blow to the head.” There was authority in Tausert’s words. She commanded the doorway like the Sun Goddess herself. The sun did become her.

“All right, the High Priest of Khonsu owes me, but we will have to do everything in secret.” His voice was quavering in fear and lust. He was caving in to both.

“Good, it is settled.” Tausert removed her gown in the bright sunlight. Her voice softened again. She rejoined him in his bed. They did not leave his chamber until the sun was high.

A Year Later

When the river was low, the crops were high, and sailing was fair, Seti and Tausert took the Royal Barge upriver to Thebes for the Feast of Opet. Kha-m-was joined them on their journey at Memphis. The retainers whispered that the queen was in Kha-m-was’ bed, but fear of death kept them from spreading it beyond the barge.

Seti was lethargic, a shadow of the warrior he once had been, and had to be carried everywhere. Still, he wanted to oversee the building of his Bark-Shrine at the Temple of Amun and his tomb in the Valley. Seti cared nothing for the deities way-stationed in his shrine and tomb, but he feared their wrath, and it was a concession that Kha-m-was granted to the High Priest of Khonsu for access to Tutankhamun’s tomb. His artisans had been instructed to carve his likeness over that of Amenmesse wherever it could be done without defacing his own name. He also set about converting Amenmesse’s tomb to receive Takhat and Baketwerel. Takhat was, after all, the bearer of his ill-fated children. Baketwerel was the fairest of the great one’s grandchildren and consort to the Court. Seti had dallied with her in his youth but never married her. She had helped him assume the throne by seducing certain priests. Then, he had her killed, too. She knew too much. The afterlife would be better for her.

The quarrymen had carved out the well of his tomb, leaving only the chariot hall and burial chamber to be completed. With the Queen and Kha-m-was at his side, Seti was carried into Tutankhamun’s tomb. Seti was pleased at seeing Tutankhamun’s treasures. They would make a nice complement to what he was gathering with heavy taxes. He had put Bay to that task, no longer having the strength to oversee tax collection.

Seti was running out of skilled stone carvers. The best were working on the outer chambers of his tomb. The limestone there was pink, and bore the beginnings of fine relief of his triumphs at war. The rest of the carvers were out refacing statues and rewording glyphs throughout the kingdom. They hated such work. He had to put to death two of the best carvers who refused to do it. At the well, he had painters hurriedly paint the objects the priests would move, upon his death, from Tutankhamun’s tomb to his. To please the priests, he had statues of himself, in pious postures, placed in ritual shines in his tomb. It was a false show of piety. Still, he believed that this gave him assurance that the gods would approve his actions, and that the priests would carry out his plan when he was dead.

Seti never returned to the Feast of Opet. He was too weak to travel. He spent his days at Avaris and relied on Tausert and Bay to carry out the affairs of the Court. He no longer consorted with women. He no longer enjoyed food. Except for his Nubian retainers, he was alone. He died slowly in agony. Perhaps it was just punishment for his treatment of others in his rise to power. Four years after he visited his tomb, his body was on the Royal Barge, wending its way back to Thebes. He did not hear the cries of mourning from the throngs that greeted the Barge’s passing.

Bay and Tausert immediately began a power struggle for the throne. Kha-m-was, no longer in fear of Seti’s wrath, joined with Bay to have Siptah, Amenmesse’s son with Ti’a placed on the throne. To add legitimacy to the boy’s reign, Tausert was allowed to remain as Regent. With their puppet on the throne, Bay taxed the kingdom mercilessly, enriching both himself and the priests. Seti was mummified and placed in his tomb. But the vessels of Tutankhamun did not surround him. Only the crude paintings in the well chamber gave testimony to his plan.

Thebes: 970 B.C.

The priests had feared a loss of control since the death of Smedes in 1044. Every pharaoh moved the capital, disrupting the priests’ controlling ties to the royal family. After Amenope wrote his Book of Wisdom, they feared they could no longer manipulate the Kingdom with cunning and deception.

Finally, Siamun was persuaded to help them save the royal mummies from desecration by robbers or future kings. He was so stupid. Throughout the history of the dynasties, mummies had been moved from tomb to tomb to thwart the efforts of jealous kings to interrupt their ancestors’ journeys to reincarnation. The priests found that they could systematically rob the graves, a piece at a time, during such times, without being detected.

The plan for Siamun was grand. In exchange for a few gold pieces and a safe tomb of his own, the priests would move all of the royal mummies to a secret location, on the other side of the Nile, where they would never be desecrated by anyone bent on malice or thievery. The mummies were systematically restored and moved to safe hiding places. Eventually, they were moved en masse to their final resting place. The treasures of the kings, including Ramesses the Great, were pilfered and the treasures sold on the caravan trade. Most of the tombs were sealed or hidden by rubble. Some of the tombs remained open and were robbed repeatedly. A few were sealed or hidden well and escaped trespass.

Deir el-Bahri Escarpment, Western Thebes: 1871

“Look what I found, Daddy!’ Young Omar was excited to show his find. He burst jubilantly into their darkly lit home. Everyone was eating their evening meal.

“You’re late for supper. We’ve been looking all over for you. The goats were left unattended. You haven’t been playing by the cliff again, have you?” Manqureh was upset, ready to beat his errant son.

“But Daddy, look!” From under his tunic, Omar produced a comb. This was no ordinary comb. It was carved from a single piece of ivory and trimmed with gold and inset blue stones.

“Where did you get that?” Manqureh knew what it was. He had heard stories of ancient artifacts being found around and had even seen some in the markets. This was far finer than anything he’d ever seen.

“Where you told me not to go. I’ve been crawling into those holes below the bank while the goats are grazing. Today, deep in a hole, I found this—and other things.”

Manqureh forgot his son’s planned admonishment. He even forgot that he was eating. He grew excited. “Can you take me there? We must not speak of this to anyone. Tomorrow, Omar, you will take me to this place. Then, I will see what we will do.”

The next morning, Manqureh and two other sons followed Omar to where he had found the comb. Manqureh was upset when he saw Omar climbing twenty feet below the edge of the crumbling cliff to reach the small hole. He tied ropes so that he could lower himself down. When he got there, he couldn’t wiggle into the small opening like Omar had. When Omar came back with a gold chalice, Manqureh could hardly contain his excitement. While he spoke sternly to the boy, he kept thinking that they were now rich. If only they could sell the pieces without being caught. They went back for shovels and pickaxes and began digging.

Each night they cleaned the objects they found and then hid them in a cellar behind their small home. They kept up their normal routine, and traded in the village like they always did. Gradually, through contacts Manqureh made in the local market, they began to sell some of the objects they had found. They didn’t want to appear rich. The local government was corrupt, and the British had little patience with the antiquities trade. “Shouldn’t we profit from our good fortune?” Manqureh thought. He kept the treasures a close family secret.

They had to dig a lot, but were careful not to leave evidence of all their digging. They found many jars and other vessels, baskets, and casks, filled with household items fit for kings and queens of ivory, ebony, gold, and silver. There was jewelry made from many stones, some very unfamiliar. The objects were beautifully carved and brilliantly colored. They also found mummies—many of them—deep in the hillside. It was difficult work with all the dust and lack of air. Their only light was candles. The bodies were frightening, and Manqureh prayed that his family would not be harmed.

But such riches do not go unnoticed. Eventually, rumors about the family passed from local officials to the British. When Egyptologists came from Cairo, there was nothing that Manqureh could do but show them where he had found the mummies. The searchers were stunned by the find. These were not ordinary mummies, so commonly found at the time, but the exquisitely wrapped bodies of kings and queens. They were carefully cataloged and cartoned, then transported to the museum in Cairo for identification.

Carefully, one strip of cloth at a time, workers uncovered the face of a man they had labeled, Seti II, from the glyphs on his wrappings. With cotton eyes and deep brown dried skin, he stared blankly back at them. Seti was no longer alone, but he did not know it.

Chapter 3

New Wilderness

The Iron Range, Upper Michigan: 2006

Albert was alone. As he stood on the porch of his cabin that warm spring morning, watching a beaver making a perfect v-line across the lake, it all came flooding back to him.

He’d retired from Howard the previous spring to devote more time to his projects. He still kept an office and lab there, but now was officially emeritus and only returned occasionally, depending on the project underway. His research was more active now. He had projects funded by the National Science Foundation, the National Institutes of Health, the Sierra Club and the Nature Conservancy. All of his work focused on his New Wilderness. He was turning his little corner of Michigan back to the way it was before the Voyageurs came from France and began to alter the landscape. Already, he missed his students.

She started it all. If Esther hadn’t died in that awful mudslide at Arecibo in August 1974, who knows where he’d be or what he’d be doing. His retreat was complete.

First, he’d gone home to his roots in Ironwood. And then, he’d thrown himself into his work teaching that fall at Howard. He knew now that he took his anger and frustration out on his students that semester. “What’s with Dr. Repaul?” was a common refrain. He didn’t have a clue, even after Dean Jones took him aside and asked him to “lighten up” on his assignments. It took over a year.

Then, there was that period when he tried to prove himself as an astronomer without a teaching or research post. It got him no post, but it did get him tenure and his formulation of the theory of The Kaleidoscope Effect. Seeing so many of his colleagues caught up in the concept of SETI (The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence), Albert had developed his own alternate theory, based on the assumption that energy and matter cannot exceed the speed of light. Since intelligence capable of contacting us would probably also be capable of traveling at close to the speed of light, and, given the difficulty of two-way communication with such restraints, it would be just as easy for intelligence to come to us as send signals. Besides, they would be far more capable of receiving our messages than we theirs. They also would have no need to fear us, hide from us, or harm us.

This made SETI fruitless. It also made the concept of Star Wars, consuming much of the collective creative mind since the emergence of the first alien beings from the mind of the likes of H.G. Wells—obsolete. While our reptile brains are intrigued and excited by the thought of the diabolical, no alien intelligence would gain by destroying us. It would be like the Calypso coming upon a pod of dolphins for the very first time and having Captain Jacques Cousteau order his men shoot them to get bodies to dissect.

Taking this position got Dr. Repaul on panels at major and minor conferences, and some notoriety. He published in obscure journals and began his biological research in the Howard labs. While visiting his parents during the summer of 1984, he saw this ad in The Mining Journal. “Mine for sale. Played-out copper mine with thirty-acre lake. Heavily wooded. Remote. Suitable for resort. 835 acres. Inquire Reserve Mining and Manufacturing, Duluth, MN. 58111. Phone (218) 722-5000.”

Albert had invested Esther’s life insurance, a sizable sum, to help maintain Esther’s mother in her old age, and, for opportunities like this. He gave Reserve Mining a call. Reserve’s real estate manager, Tom Barclay, was eager to talk about the property and cut a deal. Albert wanted him to hold on until he had time to locate the property. Pulling out some of his father’s topographical maps, Albert soon located the site, about 20 miles off State Route 28 between Nestoria and Ishpeming. It looked ideal, sandwiched between the Copper Country and Escanaba River State Forests. He had to go see it. “When can we meet to see it?” He found himself excitedly asking Tom a few minutes later.

Three days later, they met in Nestoria at 11am. Using Tom’s Jeep 4WD Wagoneer, they wound through state forest and timberlands on the overgrown lagging road until at about 12:30, they entered a small valley with a marshy lake. “The lake’s spring fed…” Tom was saying. “….Forms a creek there on one end that eventually ends up in the Escanaba River.” Albert didn’t have to be sold—he was already in love with the place.

They pulled up on some ramshackle mining buildings, falling apart from misuse. Albert noted that the lumber would come in handy for building a cabin. He was already picturing it in his mind. After they walked the site a bit. Albert declared, “I’ll take it. Can I write you an earnest money check?”

Since the property had been up for sale for so long, Reserve was willing to cut a deal: One half down, and the rest in monthly installments at ten percent interest for fifteen years. Banks were unwilling to loan money on land like this with little potential except future timber. Reserve would draw up a land contract. It would be paid for by the time Albert planned to retire. Most of Esther’s insurance money could stay invested, in case Esther’s mother or he needed it.

It was paid for now, and nearly turned back to nature. His only concessions were improving the logging roads a bit with mine tailings and a grader so that he could get in and out in most weather with a four wheel drive vehicle, his solar passive, wood-heated log cabin, set into the woods like it grew there, a couple of sheds for a workshop, equipment and experimental supplies, some cages for the temporary holding of wild animals, a greenhouse, and his solar panels and windmills for power. All in all, it was a pretty cozy setup. “That’s the problem,” he thought. “Now that I’ve got everything working the way I want, I feel empty and so alone.” It was times like this that he wished he’d had children. “If only I had adopted … If, if ….” He had to stop thinking like this. He was too old to adopt now. Those students would have to be his substitutes for children.

The closest he’d come to having children was bringing those interns here from Howard in the summers. Most were city kids—eager to come when he’d talk of it—in for culture shock when they got here. He picked them carefully, but sometimes failed. Once in a while one would freak out after two weeks without their music, their buddies, the mall, their girlfriend or whatever addiction they were hung up on from living in an urban society. Oh, there was contact with the outside world, especially as satellite TV, cell phones, and the Internet came into use. Albert was one of the first to employ these technologies, not wanting to lose touch with the rest of society during his sojourns there. Those weekly jaunts to Ishpeming or Marquette brought civilization back into perspective, too— small town though it was.

That summer with Jeremy in 1998 was special. His pond project resulted in seminal information leading to solving the problem of the deformed frogs. Jeremy went on to grad school at the University of Minnesota. With his earned doctorate in biological sciences in hand, he had recently been hired by Archer Daniels Midland as a staff biologist. He was working on a project to use frog meat to increase the world’s food supply.

And then, there was his fifteen minutes of fame as a direct descendent of Ötzi, the Iceman of Tyrol. That chance encounter had created a hive of genealogical interest in his family and led him to conducting DNA related studies in his labs and at New Wilderness. Since retiring, he had traveled to Tyrol, Italy to view the Iceman himself, and to climb the high mountain pass to Innsbruck,to the spot where Ötzi was found. He had stood there in bright sunlight for a long time, trying to imagine what it was like, 5300 years earlier, when Ötzi died on the mountain.

Certainly, it wasn’t there, where he was found, but further up, several hundred yards, where he’d become part of the glacier that brought him down to the trail and his discovery. Albert had climbed the glacier, scrambling over fissures and watching for crevasses, until he’d reach the spot Ötzi was presumed to have died. To his right was a rocky overhang. “Perhaps that’s where he sought shelter?” Albert thought. It was hard for Albert to tell. He didn’t even know his ancestor’s name. “Was it Repaul, like his?” For now it was Ötzi, after the region the man was supposedly from.

He and Rao Khundi, head of the Genome Genealogy Project at Johns Hopkins had become good friends and collaborators. Their joint research had been published in The New England Journal of Medicine and Science. Albert had become one of the world’s leading DNA researchers.

That’s what made his loneliness so complete. Albert, by the nature of his research alone, knew how closely related we all were. The difference in race between he and Esther or Jeremy was but a single letter in a sequence that was as long as life itself. Even Jeremy’s frogs possessed 95% of the same DNA as humans. All life, even plants, were closely related. Yet Albert, surrounded by life in his new wilderness, began longing for human companionship. Even with all the activity of his daily routine, he felt so alone.

On clear, starlit winter nights he felt it most, coming back to the cabin after dark. The astronomer in him looked up, felt so small and wondered if there was life out there among all those stars, so far away, and shuddered. The thought left him when he entered the cozy warmth of the cabin.

Chapter 4

A New Start

The Iron Range, Upper Michigan: 2008

“Albert, are you there?” It was almost 7am. Albert was just returning to the cabin for breakfast after making his morning rounds to his experiments. It was Jeremy’s mother on the loudspeaker—a small concession he’d made to continue communication with the outside world. Sometimes he turned it off. It had a way of interrupting the peace of his life. Without his wrist unit, he couldn’t talk to her until he got back into the cabin. He didn’t wear it all the time—same reason he sometimes turned off the speaker.

“Hi, how are you!” She heard the screen door slam as Albert called out his greeting. Her smiling face was clearly visible on his television screen. He didn’t have his camera turned on but the microphone picked up his voice well.

“I was about to leave a message and sign off, but then I knew you’d be out and about and waited for you to get back.”

Albert began pouring a cup of coffee. “How’s that son of yours doing? Don’t suppose I’ll hear much from him now that he’s finally earning money and up to his ears in frogs.”

“Oh, he’s doing just fine. They’ve got him training in Chicago for three months, and then he’s off to Indonesia to start his pilot project. He’s really excited. Did I tell you he finally married Cherry?”

“How come I wasn’t invited?”

“You know he had no money for a big wedding. They had it here right after graduation. That way she can go with him. Believe me, she’s not too excited about Indonesia. But that isn’t why I called. I’m calling to invite you to the Wolf Summit in Yellowstone”

“Wolf Summit? What Summit?” Albert hadn’t heard of any meetings on wolves.

“Senator Udall is calling a meeting of all wolf experts to discuss alternatives for reintroducing wolves to Western rangelands. As you know, we’ve got a lot of opposition from ranchers and settlers. He’d like to get everyone’s input before going ahead with legislation. It’ll be July 10th through 13th at Mammoth Springs in Yellowstone. Can we count on you?”

“Okay, Gladys, I’ll be there—email me the particulars.” You know I can’t refuse the Senator from Idaho. Along with the President, he’s one of those that’s going to get us through.”

“Well, I have to run. Goodbye until I see you there.”

“Bye.” Albert began deciding what he’d eat for breakfast.

President Gore was in his second term. The Bush years had ended badly. Just when the economy was recovering from the excesses of the rush to Internet commerce, electricity deregulation set off a series of fossil fuel price escalations not seen since the MidEast Oil crises of the 1970s. The rush of new, inexperienced companies into electricity production and distribution increased demand as many new power plants were built to lower electrical cost. Even with reserves from the Alaskan refuge, strategic stockpiles, and deep drilling in the Gulf of Mexico, shortages in the United States sent ripples through the worldwide economy and supply chains. The limits of gas and oil production, long predicted in the annual The State of the World and other publications, were running headlong into burgeoning demand and driving prices sky high.

Escalating gasoline prices changed driving habits overnight. SUVs, the sign of 1990s prosperity, were hurriedly traded in on gasoline-electric hybrid station wagons getting 80 miles per gallon. For commuting, people jumped to bicycles, mopeds, and small electric cars. For the first time, Americans took seriously insulation, solar passivity, and a host of energy-saving technologies largely ignored before. The price of everything requiring fuel to produce was affected, including food. Lifestyles changed rapidly—forced by economic necessity—just like the loss of the World Trade Center in 2001 had changed America’s sense of freedom. Everything had its cost. You paid now or you paid later.

Air pollution in the cities had become a critical issue. Pollution of the world’s water supplies was close behind. There were no more living coral reefs in the ocean. The excesses of the 19th and 20th Centuries had come to roost on the children of the 21st.

President Gore declared environmental war. Global warming, shortages, and dangerous pollution were finally reaching the consciousness of the American people. Congress, no longer obligated to big money lobbying by the McCain Election Reform Act, were pulling together to back the President’s bold and radical plan. The United States could not afford to go the way of the rest of the other resource rich countries—a two-tier society with a very rich elite and the rest struggling to live in an ever more degraded environment. The United States had to lead the way out of the morass the world was slipping into. Without radical action, global warming could render the coup de grace.

While most Americans were stockholders by nature of their retirement accounts and the reformed Social Security, they did little to exercise their voting rights. Elite insiders ran most corporations and mutual funds. The Corporate Reform Act removed stockholder interest as the overriding driving force for corporations. Taxes and other limitations were imposed to reduce excessive individual wealth. Tax loopholes were closed. Incentives were restructured to benefit society and the environment. Corporations could no longer lie to the public and get away with it. Some cried “Socialism” and protested in the streets. Congress saw no other direction to go.

Approaching 8 billion and growing fast, the realization that there were too many people on the Earth was hitting home on many fronts. A cure for AIDS had been found, but more and more people were dying from it each year. Most of the diseases conquered in the 20th Century were running rampant in regions where pollution and overuse had rendered the land unproductive. These blighted areas, visible from space were growing like a disease upon the planet. To those, like Albert, in the know, the efforts underway looked feeble and hopeless. As long as we valued human life over all other, we appeared to be doomed to a way of life not seen since Dark Ages.

To counter the growing sense of helplessness, Gore also declared that we were going to Mars. If we could make something of that cold, barren, waterless landscape, then, perhaps, we could save the Earth. Following the lead of Kennedy, he declared that we would be on the planet in ten years, by 2018. It was ambitious and unrealistic, but just what was needed to focus a beleaguered people. Unlike the race to the Moon, Gore invited every country to participate in any way they could.

The flight to Jackson was smooth. There were no crowds at O’Hare or Denver. The cost of jet fuel had virtually eliminated air travel for the masses. Albert took the 20-passenger shuttle bus to Mammoth Springs. The other riders were mostly tourists and Park employees. He didn’t see anyone going to the Wolf Summit. He used the time to look out the window and commune alone with one of the wonders of the natural world.

They drove past many areas burned in the fires seventeen years before. Weather bleached sticks that used to be tree trunks covered the hills and valleys. They jutted above the new, green growth, still barely reaching only fifteen feet. Trees grew slow at this altitude. It would take a hundred years for the forests to return to what they had been. Albert knew the value of buffalo, elk, deer, rodents, and wild fires in thinning the forests. It was a hard lesson to learn.

Still, it was beauty that only nature can create—from wild flowers to multicolored geysers, Yellowstone was unique. Unlike most tourists, Albert knew it would all someday be gone—blasted away. Sitting on top of a super volcano, nature would reclaim the Park and its inhabitants in a single, violent, eruption. Aside from Krakatoa in the Indian Ocean in 1883, recent history had not recorded such a cataclysm. But it was coming. Not this trip. No serious seismic activity had occurred since the 1959 Lake Hebgren earthquake. Seismic activity would likely precede any eruption.

Mammoth Springs was as he remembered it. The Old Fort Yellowstone buildings, built for the Army during their protection of the Park until 1917, looked Spartan. The utilitarian nature of the Mammoth Springs Hotel was contemporary, but a far cry from the elite, country club conference centers dotting the land from Virginia to Vegas. But it was an appropriate venue—reachable by the constituents involved.

He saw her when he was checking in, then later, after dinner, when he went out on the porch to view the elk grazing the hillside just across the valley. Her blonde hair—actually more gray than blonde—framed a face that while still beautiful, bore the creases and concerns of a lifetime. Her small frame, smartly dressed in white pants and bright yellow shirt, gave the appearance of someone energetic and fit. She stared at the elk for a few moments, then turned, and went back inside. Just then, Gladys appeared with a drink in each hand and sat down beside him.

“Who is that?” Albert’s interest in the strange woman had made him forget his manners.

Gladys didn’t seem to mind. She handed Albert his drink and pulled a napkin from her pocket for him to put under it. “Oh, that’s Anne Compton—you know—of the California Comptons? She works for Senator Sturgeous of Montana. She doesn’t have to work, but she’s thrown herself into this campaign. Do you want me to introduce you?”

Albert had heard of her. Anne Compton had come a long way to this place. Born to privilege, she grew up in Atherton, and attended private schools. Her father, John Compton, was the long-standing conservative Senator from California, fully behind Goldwater on the Vietnam issue. By the time she was fourteen, she was skipping school, hitching a ride to the City, and hanging out with hippies in Panhandle Park. There was always a concert at the Fillmore Auditorium, Winterland, or the Avalon Ballroom. She’d stay out all night, sneak in past the servants near morning, and then have breakfast with her mother, none the wiser.

While she tried acid once, she didn’t like the marijuana scene, seeing how it made people cocky and talkative, but unable to be industrious and creative. Instead, she fell in with a group of new colonists, bent on setting out and starting over. They were bright, rich kids like her who didn’t smoke or drink. At sixteen, she left for school one morning and ended up in a commune near Mendocino. Her first summer there was idyllic, but the snow and rains of winter nearly drove them out. After Christmas, their original group of thirty had dwindled to nine. The locals— sheep farmers, fishermen, and timber cutters—were amused by the new arrivals, but didn’t like them squatting on their land. They tried to grow vegetables, but the forest yielded little for all their efforts. They soon abandoned the idea of being pure vegetarians to eat squirrel, quail, and deer when they could get it. One commune member spent 60 days in jail for shooting a deer out of season. At least he had good food in jail and the rest had venison to eat. Anne learned a valuable lesson—how hard it is to survive in the wilderness. After a second summer of poor crops, the new colonists drifted back to the City. Their commune was abandoned to the forest. With her Daddy’s pull, Anne entered Vassar that fall.

Anne emerged from Vassar four years later with a degree in economics and a new sense of purpose. Returning home, she spent two more years at Stanford getting her MBA. With her sisters from Vassar, she formed a series of businesses in the 1970s. While they gained some attention in the press, none of these businesses, geared to women’s needs, ever took off. Seasoned from her entrepreneurial experience and with the urging of her uncle, she was made senior vice president for marketing at Compton Enterprises in 1981. Positioned to take advantage of Reagan’s largesse and trickle down economics, she became the consummate yuppie. With newfound personal wealth, she built a beach house in Malibu; bought high-rise apartments in San Francisco and New York City, a ranch in Montana; gathered a stable of Mercedes convertibles; and took the company Lear wherever she wanted.

But she was unsatisfied. From her days in the commune, there were men around, but she never married. Maybe it was her wit, her money, or her beauty—whatever it was, she was just too intimidating to men. Her lifestyle precluded adopting children. She’d even thought of being a single mother, but abandoned that for the same reason. By the 1990s, the drive to earn money not longer pleased her. She resigned her post to head the newly formed Compton Foundation. She started to champion causes—birth defects, AIDS, world hunger, and the rain forests. After a decade of this work with small rewards, but little progress, she retreated to her ranch in Montana. After a couple of years trying to nurture a small herd of wild horses and buffalo, she’d joined the Senator’s staff, gratis, just to get back into the action. That’s why she was there.

But that attractive man she’d seen on the porch. “Was he here for the Summit?” She made a note to herself to ask Gladys. She didn’t have too.

Albert wasn’t into horses, but a pre-breakfast ride to the Springs had been scheduled for 6am, so he got up early and went along with the program. To his pleasant surprise, the woman he’d seen, Anne Compton, was walking over to the stable too. Breaking into a jog, he caught up with her.

“Hi, I’m Albert Repaul!” He was slightly out of breath as he slowed beside her. “Gladys told me that you are here with Senator Sturgeous. Mind if I join you?” He fell into walking beside her.

Anne smiled slightly at his bravado. “Good to meet you, you must be at the Summit, too.” She didn’t offer her hand, but her smile grew.

“Yes, I reintroduced wolves to Upper Michigan.” It wasn’t a proud statement, just a fact.

Anne understood. He started telling her about his wolves, but they reached the stable and had to saddle up.

Albert liked both feet on the ground. As much as he loved animals, horses were among the dumbest. He was never sure if his ride would try to throw him as he swayed along. This ride was different. He kept admiring the skill and grace of Anne as they plied the terraces and climbed to a commanding view of the sun rising over the valley. They talked easily about mutual concerns. They were already close friends when Gladys joined them at the breakfast table. Albert couldn’t remember being this giddy since he met Esther. In some ways, Anne reminded him of Esther.

The Summit was the classic confrontation. Environmentalists on one side, and ranchers and settlers on the other. The timber and mining interests were not there. This was one fight they weren’t interested in. As much as they were part of the problem, Albert hated seeing the ranchers decline. The settlers were another matter. They had been coming to the West since Hemmingway left Cuba for Montana in the 1950s. Now, everyone who made it in America wanted to buy his little piece of peace, quiet, and mountain air. The trouble was, some areas were fast becoming just like suburbia, and small towns like Jackson and Billings were becoming the boomtowns of the century.

Ranchers were a beleaguered lot and strange bedfellows with the settlers. Between questions about their practices, economic pressure, and the onrush of settlers, their hundred and fifty year way of life seemed to be coming to a close. The Great Plains Indians, who the ranchers had pushed out, had four hundred years to flourish with Spanish horses. How long would the settlers last? No one wanted to compromise his or her way of life, no matter how little time was left.

The Office of Land Management’s pitch made sense. Reintroducing wolves had been studied for twenty years, beginning with natural sites like Isle Royale, and then with experiments like those in Northern Minnesota and Yellowstone. Wolves limited coyote populations. Wolves guaranteed the genetic strength of elk, wild horses, buffalo, moose, prairie dog, and other wild animal populations. Wolves did affect unguarded ranch animals and pets. Humans seemed to have few encounters with the furtive wolves.

Range dogs had proved to be good at protecting livestock from wolf attack. Settlers feared for their children. Old legends died hard. The Yellowstone experience was very positive.

The best thing that came out of the Summit was the wireless fence. Livestock could be fitted with a receiver collar, ear clip, or implant that would sense an adjustable proximately to a high frequency transmitter. The closer the animal approached the transmitters, the more painful the amplified signal in the receiver would become to the inner ear.

Transmitters were small, reliable and cheap. They were either battery or solar powered and could be fastened to fence posts, trees, or rocks. Their placement depended on the range they were set for, usually ten to fifteen feet apart, along an existing boundary. Once an animal came within range of the transmitter, the pain in its ears would cause it to pull away from the pain and the boundary. Young animals would quickly learn where the boundaries were. Once learned, conditioned animals never crossed the boundaries again. A threshold could be set so that no permanent damage would come to an animal forced into the range of transmitters against its will.

Maintenance costs of the brightly colored transmitters had proved to be less than maintenance of traditional fences. Ranchers and settlers could dismantle a section of fence at a time, gradually returning their property to open range. Boundaries would still be clearly marked by the transmitters and survey markers.

Humans and wild animals would be free to cross boundaries at will. Strict new rules for trespass and off road vehicles were already in place. Camera technologies had already reduced illegal trespass to new lows. Rules for the harvest of open range animals like buffalo and wild horses were being developed following wildlife hunting rules practiced and improved for over a century. Picking off the alpha male for a trophy would no longer be tolerated. Harvesting of the weak and sick would be required.

The best benefit of the wireless fence wasn’t obvious. Since ranch animals would not graze within twenty to thirty feet of fencerows, they would become fallow. These ungrazed strips would provide food for wild grazers, cover and nesting places for wild animals and birds, and reseed sites for wild grasses and plants from the wild prairie. Ranchers may periodically cut or burn these fencerows, but their value in restoring wild habitat could not be underestimated.

The dissenters, after much debate, agreed to reintroduction of wolves in mountain areas—the Rockies, Bitterroots, Big Horn, Sierras, Black Hills, and Cascades— but not to farm and ranchlands until the new fencing system and introduction areas proved successful.

Except for when Albert presented the results of his twenty-year experiment with wolves in the UP, Anne sat with him throughout the Summit. They ate together, walked together, took morning trail rides together, and talked. Their practical idealism, honed by years of experience, clicked. They both hated to see the Summit end.

Albert hurriedly changed his return plans, called his nephew to check on his experiments, and left Yellowstone northward into Montana with Anne and the Senator’s entourage.

He was a real dude on Anne’s ranch. He rode more than he cared to as they followed the fence lines and determined where she would put in the new wireless technology. Her foreman, George, the half Mandan that ran things for her on the ranch, welcomed the change. “The wilder, the better,” he said.

When they returned that first day, tired and sore from a hard day’s ride, Anne invited him to join her in the hot tub on her deck as they walked up to the house. When Albert confessed that he hadn’t packed a swimsuit, Anne just smiled and said, “Oh, that’s okay.” She went to the kitchen for some wine while Albert admired the view from the deck of the ranch house and checked the temperature of the water in the tub.

When Anne arrived on the deck with a Chardonnay and two glasses, Albert pulled the cork and poured. They raised the glasses, tapped them, and Albert said, “To the open range.”

Anne responded, “To the open range.” She smiled broadly and began unbuttoning her shirt. Soon, with her shirt off, she was unbuttoning Albert’s shirt. Albert was focused on the freckles on her white skin below the tan line on her breasts. Finally, he looked up to see her eyes, staring lovingly into his. She was unbuckling his belt.

Albert was in good shape. But Anne had obviously taken care of her body. They crawled into the soothing waters of the hot tub and sipped their wine. As the sun set they talked like old friends. Albert hadn’t felt this excited since Esther.

Hungry, they left the hot tub and toweled dry. Handing their clothes to Albert, Anne winked and said, “Could you please take these to my bedroom. I’ll get us some food.”

Albert lingered a bit in Anne’s bedroom, looking at her framed pictures of her other lives. The room was feminine, but clearly western ranch, with large, natural wood furniture. It did not look like the bedroom of a millionaire. With his towel tied to his waist he returned to the kitchen. He smelled steaks on the grill on the deck. Anne still totally nude, was making a salad at the counter. He couldn’t help but admire her bare butt and back. She had either been tanning nude or wore a thong swimsuit.

“Do you want the horses ready again in the morning?” George startled Albert as he barged into the kitchen.

Anne turned toward him, pensive for a moment. “Yes, but not until 10, we’re tired and will be sleeping in a bit.” She smiled slyly. George smiled and nodded in recognition as he backed out of the kitchen.

“In case you’re wondering, ‘Yes’, I’ve had him. It was mutual. He’s one helleva man. It gets lonely out here. Since my days in the commune, I’ve been comfortable with sex. Having no kids helps. George has an ex-wife and three kids to think about. We’re in different worlds. He’s native to this country. I’m just passing through—a settler. And a couple of young ranch hands, too. They’re all so full of hormones. Those prostitutes in Billings just take their money and run. Do I shock you?” She waved the knife about as she talked.

Albert was growing a bit redder than his sunburn. “No, the older I get, the less concerned I am about things like that.” He didn’t tell her how jealous he’d been of Esther’s attraction to men.

He moved to her side and picked up his wine glass. She smelled great as she cut up mushrooms, her breasts jiggling to her exertion. He could feel her heat. He could feel himself stirring beneath his towel.

After a flurry of e-calls, Anne joined him at New Wilderness in September, just as the fall colors were bursting forth. She stayed the winter. They were married in Ironwood in the spring. Albert’s family was happy. The Comptons were happy. Albert was no longer alone. When travel costs permitted, they returned to the ranch to oversee George’s fence renovation. It took three years, but Anne’s ranch became a model for other ranches in the area. As the fencerows grew, more grouse, pheasants, and foxes were seen.

Chapter 5

Filling the Empty Nest

The New Wilderness, Upper Michigan: Spring 2016

The years passed quickly. Crisis after crisis came and went—taxing the people and the government—but things in New Wilderness remained the same. As civilization came apart, the harsh wilderness life seemed almost benign. The Internet had been replaced by eCom—wireless, ubiquitous, and available through implants for the haves, and cheaply, in much variety through devices to the have-nots.

President Sheila James had carried Gore’s torch, even as his standing in the polls had reached all time lows. eCom, more quickly than ever, revealed the fickleness of public opinion. While the economy remained strong, sectors were challenged as the world struggled with overpopulation, terrorism, pollution, and degraded, guarded lifestyles.

The Martian effort was a bright spot. Ahead of schedule, Destination Mars was scheduled to land a crew of five on the surface in July 2017. Unlike MIR, the International Space Station had grown and flourished— largely through renovations by replacing interchangeable sections. After the breakthrough by Dennis Tito in 2001, private money poured into space tourism. The Space Ferry, a system using high altitude air buses, ram jets, and an improved entry/reentry vehicle, replaced the Space Shuttle in 2005.

The air buses, code named Clydesdale, taking off with full crew and systems from any airfield with ordinary jet fuel, could reach Mach 1 at altitudes near 50,000 feet. The ramjet, code named, Rabbit, a pod comprising the entire upper half of the air bus, would jettison with small rocket boosters and quickly bring the Ferry to Mach 5 and 100,000 feet. Then the space vehicle, code named, Twilight, would jettison and reach escape velocity with enough fuel to reach its destination in orbit, deliver its payload, and return to the atmosphere. Clydesdales, with a crew of two, landed at their original take-off field or any conventional airfield to refuel. Rabbits, with a crew of two, returned to the nearest military airfield.

Twilight vehicles were special. Smaller than the Shuttle, but more versatile, they could land at twenty, and growing, airfields worldwide. Versions for tourism were quite comfortable and carried twenty passengers. In the years since the Space Ferry’s inception only two incidents marred its impeccable safety record. One Rabbit had crashed upon landing in France in 2011, but the crew ejected safely. The only tragedy was the loss of a Twilight vehicle when it depressurized upon reentry and all 22 aboard died in May 2013.

The first space hotel, constructed by Las Vegas interests in 2010, relieved the Space Station of its constant hosting task, and freed the staff to work on the Mars project. The rich easily became environmentalists after they spent a week or two viewing blight from above. The topic became a recurring theme from entertainers, also stricken by the sight on high of our dirty nest.

The human population problem, first brought to public attention in 1967 by Paul Erhlich, had become a world concern. How to save the burgeoning masses from the weight of their own numbers was the dilemma we faced. No one wanted to contemplate Draconian measures, like those imposed by the Chinese Communists, especially now that China was democratic. But, the natural consequences of overpopulation had led to the virtual abandonment of some areas by the United Nations. Old hatreds died hard. Scarcity inevitably led to the sharpening of differences. When strong factions could not longer provide for or control the masses, anarchy ruled. Yes, we were going to Mars, but five billion people endured living conditions more befitting of the Middle Ages. Average lifespan in the blighted areas had reached 29 and falling. Nations were no longer called undeveloped or developing. When the truth was faced, they became, “lost”.

Cloning was a two edged sword. It provided a wonderful way to create genetic tissue to cure disease and to provide children for those without. It also provided a way for the unscrupulous to further their various purposes—from personal profit, to grand schemes to save the world. The first human clone, born under the auspices of the Cloneaid cult in 2002, opened a Pandora’s Box. By 2005, the Clone Control Act put strict controls on the known misuses of cloning. The United Nation, shortly thereafter, imposed a worldwide ban on cloning similar to the US law.

Cloning went underground. In spite of its promise, cloning did not prove itself except in food production and therapeutic medicine. Human clones were plagued with genetic defects. The processes used by some of the commercial cloners that had jumped on the bandwagon early for profit led to an epidemic of children with severe genetic disorders. As their wealthy parents held onto bonds wrought from huge financial and emotional investment, the cost to society was immense.

Like the Internet business at the end of the 20th Century, the reality of cloning was far less than its promise. Finding it unprofitable, dangerous, and illegal, most major companies abandoned their human cloning programs as quickly as they had embraced them. All cloning came under strict controls to avoid environmental disaster from introduction of predatory strains and species into the ecosystem. The natural control of evolution had been bridged. The proper controls were unknown. For that, government turned to science. While illegal cloning continued under strong attack by law enforcement everywhere, a few select research groups were allowed to participate in human cloning research so that scientific progress could be made and the proper controls could be developed. Albert Repaul, in collaboration with the Johns Hopkins group under the direction of Rao Khundi, was one of those chosen scientists.

“Albert!” The old man’s strongly accented voice had become a familiar refrain in recent years. It seemed he was always calling to seek advice or flesh out a new theory. “Albert, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m right here at my desk. ‘Camera … on!’ There, you should be able to see me now. You are looking fit after your infusion. How do you feel? (Rao had just undergone the process to rejuvenate his failing pancreas.)

“I feel great. The pain was gone overnight. There’s life in these old bones yet. But I didn’t call to talk about me; I called to talk about you. I’ve got a proposition for you and Anne—How would you two like to become parents?”

Albert was taken back. He knew Anne had been thinking about adopting children. Her post menopausal health was excellent, and new advances in medicine had pushed life to its natural span, about 120 years. In his eighties, Albert had taken care of himself, too. He expected another thirty years of healthy, active living. Still, parenting at his age seemed daunting. ‘What do you mean, Rao?”

“You know that Woolly Mammoth sample from Beresovka we were working on two years ago? Those teamed Athlons did the trick. With that kind of computing power, and a bit of sweat and tears, we were able to correct the damage freezing did to the creature’s DNA, plus or minus an error of .001%. We were able to clone a healthy embryo. Three weeks ago, Ginger, an Asian Elephant we borrowed from the Philadelphia Zoo, gave birth to a healthy male. He’s growing leaps and bounds and already terrorizing his mother for milk. We plan an announcement to the press next week. It’s a wonder that they haven’t found out already.

Anyway, we’re ready for a human. I’ve always wondered how a Neolithic man would do in modern society, and your ancestor, Ötzi, is the best candidate for one. What would you say to a baby son?”

Khundi sure knew how to get to him. His thoughts rushed back to that time he’d challenged his classes to participate in the Genome Genealogy Project, only to find that he was the one they were seeking, a direct descendent of the Iceman of the Alps. “Who will be the surrogate?”

“You know that smart young hotshot, Ping Ma? Her grandfather was a Johns Hopkins Med School graduate. At 26, she’s never had a child. As a member of our team, she can keep the lid on things. She excited about the whole thing. She’s single and knows she can’t afford a kid right now. We know you and Anne can be counted on for the same anonymity. What do you say? Want to come out and help us get started?”

Albert was amazed at Rao’s gall. But then, he was right. He was always right. “Okay, let me talk to Anne. She’s due back from the ranch tomorrow. We’ll get back to you next week.”

“Don’t wait too long. We’ll have to go to the backup plan.”

Albert knew that there was no backup plan. He was dying to see that little Mammoth. “Okay, we won’t. Bye.”

“Bye.” Rao Khundi’s face faded from the screen.

Albert went outside, got in the rowboat, and rowed out into the lake. He had a lot to think about. The water was glassy. A mother loon cavorted with two chicks, breaking the calm. Albert couldn’t wait to tell Anne. He’d do it in person.

Two days later

“Hi, I’m home!” Albert always welcomed Anne’s arrival from her many forays for her causes. It was with love and lust that he welcomed her back into his arms.

They were both talking at once when Albert realized it and let her have her say.

“Oh Albert, it’s fantastic. That pack up in the hills has grown. There are now nine of them—the three pups are growing up fast. We had a big herd of Buffalo come through. Must’ve been a thousand of them. What a sight! The plan is to thin that herd this fall by allowing hunters from the ranches to take the old and weak animals—maybe

300. We should all realize a profit from the meat and hides and the rest should winter well. Charlie, that black stallion, is still leading my wild horses. We plan to coral them and harvest the weak so that they’ll make it too. I never saw so much wild game. Montana Fish and Game is increasing bag limits, as long as hunters strictly follow the trophy restrictions. The guys are fine. I had fun flirting with them.”

Albert had decided it wasn’t time to break the big news. Instead, he filled her in on the experiments by taking her around to see them. They returned to the cabin about 6pm. He broiled some smallmouth fillets he’d caught that morning while Anne unpacked. Only after they’d eaten and watched a Bond movie with 3-D effects did he began to tell her.

“Anne, are you still interested in raising kids?”

Anne was a bit surprised by Albert’s question. She’d often thought out loud that the ranch or this place would be ideal—that maybe they ought to consider adopting—they were still strong and healthy. “Of course I am, Honey. What makes you want to bring it up, now?”

“Well …ah … Rao called and said that they’d finally cloned a Mammoth, and … well ah … they’re ready to try a frozen human.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” “Well …ah … he thinks we’d make good parents!” He’d finally blurted it out. He was a bit relieved. “He wants us to raise a cloned baby?”

“Yes, you know I’m a descendant of that frozen man they found in the Alps back in 1991. Khundi is eager to try out the process he’s learned with the Mammoth on a frozen human. A Copper Age man awaits him. All he had to do was find a suitable set of adoptive parents who would protect him from the inevitable as he grows. I’ve thought it through these last two days, and I can’t see any reason why we shouldn’t do it. What do you think?”

“I think that it’s about time. I’ve been thinking about adopting lately, especially since so many are in need. But a clone? Isn’t it a bit risky?”

“There’s always a risk. But Rao’s team is the best. They’ve been improving the process longer than anyone. Those ghastly mistakes are behind us. Besides, they’ve had nothing but success from those frozen frogs on. We could carefully monitor the youngster’s progress in an ideal setting. His genes are in me. He should develop very much like I did.”

“Oh, no, not another total nerd!” Anne was joking— but struck a cord.

“From what we know of him, Ötzi was a scientist in his time. He carried virtually all of the known technology on him. He appeared to be alone. For someone to survive to his age alone, he must have been extraordinarily resourceful. If our son is that resourceful, he will be a great scientist in the 22nd Century.

“Another great nerd … like wow!” She was reverting to her hippie roots.

Albert grabbed her by the hair—figuratively—and dragged her into the bedroom.

Three days later, Albert, aboard a Johns Hopkins van with five others, rode into the secret research site near Camp David. Aside from the obvious fuel conservation that made it a mandatory way to travel, the van was “plain brown wrapper” to discourage attention. The Anticloners, Right-to-Lifers, Ameroshiites, Anarchists, and who knew who else who were bent on disrupting, sabotaging, and sometimes, destroying, research like this could not be taken lightly. Research, once safe within the ivory towers of campus, had to be moved to places like this to continue. A lot of spontaneity had been lost. But the solitude and focus could be welcome.

When surveillance showed that there was no activity on the road for two miles in either direction, the van turned right into what appeared to be a high bank. A well-disguised door opened and the van entered a tunnel through the mountain. Within two minutes, the door had closed behind them. Another door lay ahead, about 300 yards from them in the well-lit tunnel. Once their surveillance showed that it was clear too, it opened to a logging road that showed little use. Three miles of winding mountain road beyond, was Johns Hopkins’ Biotech Center.

Albert looked for evidence of the wilderness returning. It would take over two hundred years for the trees to reach the stature that the first Europeans saw scaling these mountains, four hundred years before. Still, moss and ferns, abundant under the heavy canopy, and the many springs that wept pure water in rivulets everywhere on the mountainsides was evidence that the wilderness was returning. They saw grouse, turkeys, and deer, and had to wait while a porcupine made its way across the road. There would be wolves soon.

The Biotech Center occupied a small valley and resembled a rustic resort. Rao and several staff members met the van. As soon as their bags were stowed in the bungalows that served as housing, everyone went to see Woolly.

Woolly was the affectionate name the staff members had given their creation, now a month old. The area where he and his mother were kept was screened and camouflaged from the sky to prevent aerial pictures. This area was prohibited to general aviation, but the e-tabloids would break the law to get pictures for a story like this. Every aspect of Woolly’s development was being digitally imaged and encrypted to prevent the need for unwanted cameramen. The Center would strictly control access to the images.

The little tusker, already weighing nearly three hundred pounds, lived up to Albert’s expectation. Whereas his mother was the typical elephant gray, Woolly’s skin was a dark brown and already covered with long, fine dark brown hair. His little tusks, just emerging, were pure white and sharply pointed. He seemed to enjoy the attention the staff paid him. Ginger, a bit protective and jealous, had to be watched, but she allowed them to play with her baby.

What he would grow into had not walked the earth in 10,000 years. Although there had never been conclusive proof, it was theorized that a combination of rapid climate change, forcing the huge mammal to adapt to a limited food supply, and man, hunting the congregated creatures, led to the Mammoth’s extinction. If returned, the species would follow a small, but growing group of animals getting a second chance at survival. Once they established a foothold, it was unlikely that science would let them go extinct again.

A plan was underway to use Dima, the baby Mammoth found in Siberia in 1977, to clone a female for Woolly to mate with. April, another Asian Elephant on loan, scheduled as the surrogate, was soon to be implanted with one of her own eggs cloned into an embryo of Dima. Woolly and Dima, with parent DNA about 40,000 frozen years old, would grow up together, mature, and, hopefully mate. Fortunately, there were numerous samples from three known distinct species to insure a diverse gene pool to clone a hardy new herd of wild, North American, woolly elephants.

Food appeared to remain the biggest obstacle to Mammoth reintroduction. Global warming, with its increased carbon dioxide levels and resulting more rapid plant growth, may have already provided the solution. Already, plant growth in the wilderness areas was phenomenal. Wildfires, severely limited in the 20th century, but now allowed to burn more freely, were showing regrowth rates that could feed a population of Mammoths. Hopefully, the Mammoth population would eat different plants than buffalo or cattle. Their numbers may have to be strictly controlled to maintain range habitat.

That evening, after dinner, Rao laid out the plan. “We’ve contacted the museum in Tyrol. They’ve agreed to give us samples. Albert, you and Ping will go to insure that we get the real thing. You’ve been there, right?”

“Yes, I have. And I’m glad Ping will be going, too. There is nothing like looking into that face to know that we are dealing with a real man, full of doubt and anguish at the time of his death.”

Ping reacted to their words. “I’m not sure—except that I’m so excited to be a part of this. To see him will make it more real. To think that a 5,000-year-old donor will be growing inside me boggles my mind. Every time I see Woolly, I know it can be done—but it is all still so incredible!”

“Not so fast!” Khundi moved to regain control of the meeting and emotions. “We don’t know if we can even clone him yet! I’ve chosen you because the reactionaries would see nothing unusual about two scientists traveling to see this scientific tourist attraction. We have gone to great lengths to create a liquid nitrogen carrying case that will pass all security inspections without detection. It contains an ordinary electronic book reader, but there’s nothing ordinary about it. Two compartments, and liquid nitrogen provided by the museum should allow you to get two samples safely to us.”

Three days later, Albert and Ping, posing as researcher and post doctoral student, left Dulles International aboard the Dirigible Cincinnati for Rome. Traveling at a leisurely 80 to 120 knots, the new dirigibles were fast becoming the preferred mode of travel for tourists worldwide. Carrying up to 1000 passengers and filled with amenities, the airships resembled ocean liners except they ported on land and were lighter than air. Helium made them safe and high tech weather prediction made them comfortable to ride from sunup to sundown. Zepplin reintroduced them at the turn of the century. Cities vied to have one named after them.

Rome in three days meant swimming, sunning, leisurely meals, some casino electronic gaming, and time to reflect. Albert and Ping spent hours discussing the research and how they would deal with the outcome. Albert and Anne would become the legal, adoptive parents, providing a trust fund to insure that, regardless of circumstances, the clone would not have to worry about income. Ping would be a nurturer, mother in residence, and as such become part of the extended family. Crowded as the Eastern Seaboard had become, with the threat of anarchy ever present, both Dr. Khundi and Ping felt it was no place to raise children. The New Wilderness appeared to be an ideal setting for child development.

Before they knew it, the docking facility, located in the countryside near Rome, appeared, and they gently came to dock inside. Spawned from the technologies that created the great sports facilities with moveable doors, docking facilities had sprung up near tourist attractions and cities the world over. In some cases, sports arenas doubled as docking facilities during off hours or weather emergencies. These hangers insured a safe haven in high winds or storms. They also provided comfortable boarding during inclement weather. While the ships were strong and capable of maneuvering around or weathering most conditions, the superdocks, as they came to be called, were a welcome sight when bad weather threatened. Used as an economical way to haul commodities too, airships had begun to fill the skies near commerce centers. Superdocks too, had begun to dot the landscape.

Docking was in a cradle with laser guidance and magnetic locking, making mooring lines unnecessary. Once docked, moveable elevators came into place, transporting the occupants to the ground. Except for the spectacular tour of the ancient city as they came in, the interior of the superdock gave few clues where they were. Once outside, they boarded an electric Eurail train for their trip to Tyrol. The charm and nostalgia of old Europe greeted them around every turn as they followed the Apennines north. By nightfall, they were in Tyrol at their hillside hotel.

They spent the next day in the museum absorbing asmuch of the volumes of research on Ötzi there that they could. When night came and the museum closed its doors, they entered the cryogenic chamber with museum curators and Italian paleontologists to remove two samples from Ötzi’s frozen body. The work was done quickly. By midnight, they were on the train back to Rome. By morning, they were aboard the Airship Dayton on their way back to Dulles. A mechanic with access to liquid nitrogen checked the pressure in the carrying case daily. It only required charging once.

Rao Khundi’s team, now free from working on the Dima clone, was concentrating its efforts on the sample they had from Ötzi from the 1990s. When Albert and Ping arrived with the additional tissue, work began in earnest.Not only did they have to exactly recreate Ötzi’s DNA from fragments caused by freezing and thawing, but they had to insure that the fetus would be free of genetic mistakes that would have to be addressed after birth. Albert was proof of the vitality of the genome. It was the team’s responsibility to remake it, precisely. Another real concern was the possibility of an ancient virus being released in the baby or the researchers. Painstaking checking and rechecking of the entire genome was the only way to splice it correctly and correct every mistake. Even with the new computers, the process took two months.

Converting a fertilized embryo didn’t take long. The process was timed with Ping’s menstruation cycle so that the embryo was inserted in her cervix just as she had reached peak blood levels, insuring that the fetus would be well nourished from the start. Ping was in top shape— forcing herself to leave the tedium of the lab to exercise, run the trails, play with Woolly, eat right and regularly, and get enough sleep.

Albert flew back to the UP as Ping underwent weekly MRIs, fluid, and tissue tests to insure that the fetus was developing properly. She continued her healthy regime and lab work until her third trimester, when she flew to the UP to join Albert and Anne at New Wilderness. Three weeks before she was due, a team from Johns Hopkins arrived. The remote location kept things at a low profile. When Ping was ready, Albert and Anne drove her to Marquette General Hospital. At 4:33pm on September 13, 2016, a healthy six-pound, seven ounce baby boy was born to Ping Ma, an unwed employee of The New Wilderness. He was christened Dominic Albert Repaul. The owners of New Wilderness immediately filed papers for the adoption of the boy. The team from JHU waited in the background. No members of the press were present.

Chapter 6

The Immortal

The New Wilderness, Upper Michigan: Winter 2016

Little Dominic grew quickly into what was expected, a blue-eyed boy with wavy blonde hair. Fall turned to winter and they doted on him, insuring that he received lots of stimulation through the darkest days. And dark they were. The climate change brought copious snow every winter now. They found themselves snowed-in about Christmas. The All Wheel was parked out by the highway in its lean to and the snowmobiles were fully fueled for an emergency. They were never used—the wilderness and conservation required it.

Albert, Anne, and Ping took turns with sleepless nights until the little guy figured out he wasn’t hungry during the dark of night. Ping breast-fed him at first. They gradually substituted goat’s milk when he could be bottle-fed. He loved the snow from the start. They took him out with them to the experiments whenever they could. Ping, unused to the wilderness in winter, took to the peace and solitude well—motherhood became her.

They were not entirely alone. The eCom kept them in constant touch with Rao Khundi and others at Johns Hopkins, Albert’s family, still centered in Iron Mountain, Anne’s family in California, and Ping’s family in Taipei. They shared with them their white Christmas and new family before a roaring fire with homemade gifts. Albert and Anne dressed up like Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. Ping became a winter wood nymph. There were no elves. They sang carols together continents apart. Dominic enjoyed all the attention, but he would have to wait until he was older to see the hologram of his first fun holiday.

By mid-January, there was nine feet of snow on the ground. While it put food in reach, deer suffered most as they wallowed through the deep stuff. The moose and elk too, were confined to areas where they could find food under the heavy snow cover. The hibernators and wolves faired well. The weakest easily fell prey to the packs of wolves that now ranged well into Wisconsin and most of Northern Michigan. If this kept up as predicted, glaciers would return to this part of the globe. Glaciers were already building south of Hudson Bay. Canadian settlements north of there had either been abandoned or adapted to living on moving ice.

Adapting to the changing conditions, Albert built arbors of vine and bark to the work sheds, greenhouse, and lake. In the summer they were covered with morning glory and grapevines. The almost tropical summers insured rapid growth. In the winter, after a little sealing with new bark and icing after the first snows, they became tunnels. Low watt lights were strung so that Albert could go about his business lightly clothed day and night. By December, the temperature could stay below forty below zero for weeks, so going outside required Artic gear and snowshoes. It didn’t prevent them from going out, though. On sunny, bitterly cold days after a storm, they’d pack little Dom in a warm backpack and venture out on snowshoes to observe how the animals and birds were doing. They’d come upon grouse so tame or unaware in the deep snow that they could grab them. “There’ll be fresh roasted chicken tonight!” Albert loved to boast when he caught one. Cottontails, unable to run in deep, soft snow, were also easy to catch. Shoeshoes could be caught sleeping, but they were adapted to snow and could easily escape the wolves in deep snow. Their camouflaged white winter coats also protected them from detection.

Albert was able to grow vegetables and greens all winter long in the greenhouse. Biogas digesters, supplemented with wood or fuel oil during the coldest periods, insured that it remained warm inside. Artificial lighting sometimes had to be employed to trick the plants into growing, developing, and maturing. Ice fishing provided hours of enjoyment and fresh fish. Many of them would have frozen or starved of oxygen during the long winter anyway. Albert always left the mature fish to reproduce.

With much of the world starving, they froze, dried, or radiated everything they didn’t eat. The barren winter months in their little wilderness enclave provided them with enough food for fifty people. In the spring, Albert always took loads to Marquette to be given to the Salvation Army. Some of the dried and radiated food ended up in Africa and Asia. The frozen game and vegetables often went to people whose allergies prevented them from eating genetically modified food. Albert was far from harvesting the potential of his little wilderness to provide healthful food. That would come with time. The experiments on the range were already bearing fruit. Buffalo now rivaled beef as a preferred choice at meat counters nationwide. Venison, elk, moose, antelope, boar and other wild game meat were available in specialty shops and some super markets. Sophisticated electronic tagging, surveillance, and sting operations were preventing poachers, anarchists, trophy hunters, and thieves from engaging in poaching, Alpha harvesting, and a black market in the wild meat trade.

Sometime in the dead of winter while he was ice fishing, he got the idea. It was small at first, but grew in him like a sickness. He was musing about how great it was to have little Dom, now crawling all over the place and sticking everything in his mouth. “What about Esther? She was too young to die. … Dom needs a baby sister. ….” The diabolical idea was burning a hole in him by the time he lugged his catch back to the cabin through the arbor tunnel.

That evening, while Anne was off to the green house, he broached the idea to Ping. “Ping, I don’t know how you feel, but what would you say to a sister for Dominic.” He knew what her answer would be; he just had to hear her say it.

“Well, having Dom has been more incredible than I ever imagined. I’ve been thinking the same thing. It wouldn’t be too much trouble for me if it wouldn’t for you.”

“I’ll send some of that lock of hair I have to Rao and see what he says. I was planning to snowshoe out to the highway next week anyway to get those packages waiting for us in Ishpeming. No need to tell Anne until we find out.”

It was a beautiful bright sunny day when he set out, only twenty below at 7am. He’d made this walk before, but there was a lightness in his step and a song in his heart as he thought of the possibility of bringing her back. He was warm and so happy that he startled the stillness as he occasionally broke out in song. His graphite snowshoes made walking in the soft snow easy, and his pack was light, so he reached the All Wheel by 11am. A half-hour of digging with a light shovel, and he had her cranked up and headed east on 28.

The two-lane highway appeared almost like a canyon. The sight was amazing as the high banks rose, almost vertically, clearly marking the boundaries of the road. Any wind and it easily drifted shut. Powerful snow blowing machines kept it open, the only route to the west through the center of the U.P. By noon, he mailed a letter with the hair in it at the Post Office and stopped for lunch at Martha’s Café. Martha served the traditional pasties. Albert bought one and listened to the local talk. It was always the same this time of year—how much snow we were having. There were always those that said, “I’m gettin’ outta here. Headin’ south to Mexico. I don’t care if it’s dirty and crowded. I’m tired of slugging it out against this. This time next year won’t find me here.” Albert noted that the lunch crowd of retirees—escapees from Chicago—was smaller each year. They weren’t dying, just heading south during the winter.

After delivering his food pack to the Salvation Army, Albert drove back to the lean-to that he kept the All Wheel in. It took almost as much time to dig it in as it did to dig it out. Sheltered, plugged-in, and locked until the next time he needed it or spring, he put on his snowshoes and followed his tracks back. The trail was wide because it was a road, but he often had to duck and dodge tree branches because the snow was so deep. The sun went down in a ruddy glow while he still had two hours to go. His exertion kept him warm and the moon off the white snow clearly marked his course. He was happy to see the cabin and smell food cooking.

It was three weeks before Khundi called. “Great news, my friend! We analyzed that hair sample you sent. Yes, we can clone her, but you’ll have to get a tissue sample for us so that we can get the full sequence. You know that I’ve been working with the Egyptians to clone a mummy—not just any mummy—but one from one of the pharaohs at the museum? Remember when the Egyptian Mummy Tissue Bank in Manchester, England, concluded that mummified DNA was too fragmented to clone? Our work with your Dominic leads us to believe, given enough DNA, that we can repair any fragmentation—actually we don’t do it—the DNA repairs itself, making the right connections until it is whole. Then, we can perfect it. Yes, my friend, perfect it and remove all known genetic diseases—incredible!

Your Esther, from our preliminary analysis, appears to be of Nubian origin. Cloning her with a pharaoh will help us determine how closely related to the Egyptian kings and Nubian queens she may be. There will be a scientific purpose to your desire.”

Albert was flabbergasted. He knew she had the classic beauty of the people of northeast Africa, and the Horn, but he never dreamed she could be related to the Nubian queens of Egypt! His response was cautiously enthusiastic. “Wow! That’s good news! I want to help, but it will be another month before I can get out of here and ….” He stopped, not wanting anyone listening in on their conversation to know what he was thinking.

Rao covered nicely. “Why don’t you come out East in April? I want you to personally go to Cairo to be sure we are getting the real thing. Ping can come with you. The little guy will be a handful by then, but I’m sure Anne can take care of him alone while you are gone?”

“Yes, I was there once. There’s one mummy I remember, Seti II. It was as if I could recognize him if I saw him on the street. Let’s see, its March 10th, we should be able to leave by April 20th. It is noticeably warmer already.”

Anne and Ping were listening to the whole conversation, so the word was out. They all hugged and cried and began making plans. David, Albert’s younger brother, agreed to come from Iron Mountain to help Anne with the experiments. Dominic was climbing up on anything he could get his hands on and babbling words like “Mommy” and “Daddy” as he crawled about the cabin.

They didn’t need their snowshoes as Ping and Albert pulled the sled out onto the logging road to 28. Daily melting, followed by nightly freezing, had caused the snow pack to recede to a mere four feet. The surface was hard and crusty, allowing the cramp-ons to dig in as they took turns pulling. By noon, they reached the highway. By 1pm, they caught the tail end of the lunch crowd at Martha’s. At 4pm, their flight left for Dulles from Sawyer International. By 10pm, they met Rao Khundi in their hotel room in Reston.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” Rao was saying. “Are you sure that your devices are turned off?”

Ping and Albert checked their e-phones to make sure, and then nodded. They were in Khundi’s hybrid on a side road near the Potomac because their room was likely bugged for security and the public areas under sound camera, recording their every move. Public hotels had become notorious for gathering personal information. Using a holoscan search, Ping had to periodically find and remove nude pictures of her taken by hotel security cameras from eCom files. Big Brother was a two-edged nefarious sword. Security was mandatory for all public places, but the ubiquitous eCom made personal words and movements very public. Even the wilderness was being invaded by prying eyes and ears.

He continued. “I want you to go to Cairo and absorb as much history as you can. Going as tourists is a perfect cover. My colleague, Fawzia Hussein, will get you the special access you need. The samples you acquire this time will not need refrigeration, but I’m going to have you use the same case to keep them uncontaminated and get through all the security checks. As to the other matter, I want you, Albert, to do that alone. We will prepare some tools for you and rent a brown wrapper Chevy for your trip.”

The next morning, Albert and Ping boarded the Dirigible Dayton for an Egyptian tour to Cairo. It was the best time to go, before the hoards of families with school children and summer heat. The Holy Land was in ruins. After the schism with the Palestinians had brought the Israeli State down, Muslim factions tore at the pieces, obliterating history and driving Christians out. Egypt, after a long period of bad government and alliances with the various warring parties, had emerged to capitalize on its strength—its history.

Tourism had become more than an industry in Egypt; it had become the primary source of income for its burgeoning poor population. Disney Studios had been hired and the country cleaned up for the trade. Ping and Albert arrived to a superdock surrounded by a complex rivaling Disney World. Off in the distance in the glowing desert sunset, old Cairo sprawled from escarpment to escarpment, white-bleached buildings belying the filth, black smoke rising from numerous garbage fires. Camels and donkey carts still plied the back streets. The main streets were abuzz with electrotaxis, headlights ajar from the potholes.

Instead of a dusty relic of British occupation in the center of downtown as he remembered it, the museum had been moved to an ultramodern building at the base of the Great Pyramid of Cheops in Giza. You could still ride camels near its entry.

For a week they took shuttles to Alexandria, Memphis, The Valley of the Kings, and Abu Simbel. Whenever they could, they left the beaten path of the primary tourist attractions for the lesser-known sites, like the Tomb of Seti II, KV 15. It appeared that this lesser known despot they were interested in had attempted to steal the burial vestments of Tutankhamun. The museum, with its millions of artifacts, was as formidable as ever. However, the eCom made it a lot easier to study and navigate nearly 8,000 years of history. Except for holograms, the mummies of the kings were off limits. Albert remembered paying an Egyptian pound to enter the Mummy Room and view the dusty remains of twenty kings in the same glass and wood display cases the British had put them in, way back in the 1880s. It was close up and personal then. The room was quiet and almost deserted the two times he went there.

The Mummy Chamber, as the attraction was called, was filled with the screams and laughter of children as holograms of various kings and queens appeared and unwrapped for their admiring fans. The Curse of the Mummy was alive and well in that room. The kids especially liked interacting with King Tut. For $20 US, at their command, he would unwind his wrappings, show them his jewels, describe what he did for fun, and even do a little dance. The Egyptian had learned to stoop to anything for the money. Serious students had to go elsewhere.

Finally, after a week of touring and study, they got to meet Dr. Fawzia Hussein at dinner. They found Fawzia as affable as his friend Rao, and eager to help them.

“We had long thought that the mummies could not be cloned. Now, Khundi gives us hope. I am glad that the baby will be born in America. If he would be born here, he would be King! The one you seek, Seti II, is somewhat of a mystery. He does have a good-looking face—for a mummy—but he appears to be younger than the man who died in 1194 BC. The priests unwrapped, repaired, and rewrapped some of the mummies, looking for gold wrapping and amulets hidden on their bodies to steal. Yes, the very priests charged with guarding the dead were thieves, as were most of the kings! It is a shame and disgrace that we are such thieves. Now we steal the tourists’ money, just like the hawkers in the market!”

Dr. Hussein composed himself. “Forgive me. I get so emotional when I think of what has been lost. We Egyptians are adaptable. That is why we have survived so long. It is just too bad that we have only the tomb of Tutankhamen to show for eight millennia of civilization. Even the Royal Mummies are suspect. Beginning with Harris and Wente’s studies of craniofacial morphology in the 1990s, confirmed by later MRIs and DNA tracking, we’ve determined that the mummy labeled Seti II is most probably the younger Thutmose II. Based on the large-jawed facial morphology of the 19th Dynasty pharaohs, his presumed age at death, and DNA, we believe we have found the mummy you seek. His is the badly damaged, heretofore unidentified one, in the Deir el-Bahri cache that we have been studying for shistosomiasis. You are welcome to use samples from his remains.

Albert was well aware of the Shistosomiasis Research Project. The Medical Service Corporation International, of Virginia, USA, and the Egyptian Organization for Biological and Vaccine Project (VACSERA), working with Dr. Khundi in 2006, had created a vaccine for the parasite. The biggest problem was distributing the vaccine to the estimated two billion people potentially exposed to Bilharzia. Seti must have come in contact with the snails when he spent those years commanding the army in the Delta, bathing in the Nile. What a horrible way to die. The parasite, transferred from snails in the water, traveled to the bladder, intestines, and liver, damaging their tissue. He deserved a second chance.

That night, long after the museum had closed, Ping and Albert followed Dr. Hussein through security into the large room where the Royal Mummies were kept in biologically sterile titanium containers. Under strict temperature, humidity, and atmospheric control, they were protected from further deterioration. The kings were only removed for study or to create holographic displays for the museum.

Hussein called out a command in Arabic and a container slid smoothly out from the wall. It reminded Albert of a morgue. The container, supported only at the wall seemed to be floating as it opened. They looked down on a pile of skin and bones loosely covered by disintegrating linen. “What part do you want?” Laser cutter in hand, Fawzia was asking them like they were ordering chicken.

“I don’t know. I suppose we should get both skin and bone in case one or the other helps us with the fragmentation problem.” Albert, a man who had dissected countless animals, was now a bit unsure about gathering human flesh. He looked at Ping. She just shrugged.

“Okay, I’ll take a little bit here and a little bit over here.” Almost as he was saying it, the laser cut a sizable piece of flesh and bone from the pile, and then, another, from another location. A pungent smell rose as the laser burned through. The samples were placed into the compartments in the case. In less than a week, case in hand, Albert handed it to Rao Khundi as they exited the elevator and greeted him at Dulles.

Rao was beaming. Albert noticed it but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until they were in the van, headed back to the Research Site, that he finally told them.

“You know that blood from Dominic you brought us? Well we screened its DNA to be sure, and …, it’s perfect!”

“I know it’s perfect. You told me that after you got all the fragments of DNA to join together, you checked it on the Athlon array, and fixed any defective genes. Right?” Albert didn’t understand why Dom was so special.

“Well, you know that lifespan gene we’ve been looking at for many years? The correction process seems to have altered it. Now the gene allows for normal maturation, but instead of a gradual decline when all cells shut down in about 125 years, simulations show that Dominic’s cells will continue to be replaced indefinitely without decline. In other words, he’s immortal! We haven’t fully checked Woolly out yet, but he may be too.”

Albert was floored. He had often contemplated immortality since medicine had come up with remedies for almost any malady or injury. When spinal cord neurons were regrown, he began to think that anything was possible. But humans had a finite lifespan built into our genes. He never thought that he’d see the day that gap was breached. He wondered what the consequences would be. He might find out. His son was the first.

Chapter 7

The Grave Robber

Johns Hopkins Biotech Site, Maryland Mountains: April 2017

Woolly was living up to his name. He had grown a heavy coat of dark brown hair and was shedding it everywhere in the spring sun. He had grown to 950 pounds and was friskier than ever. Wild prairie grasses were trucked in to slake his voracious appetite. His little companion wouldn’t be born for a few months yet, so he garnered the entire spotlight.

Since the first press release, a weekly hologram went out to hope-starved populace, so used to travail that the little guy offered levity and hope that if his species recovered, than the world would too. The plan was that he would be kept here until his potential mate was born; and then, once she was big enough, they’d both be shipped to an undisclosed site in the high prairie, to be joined by others being cloned to join them. There would initially be ten of them—all from different frozen specimens. The Siberian Republic had already offered to take a similar group to the steppes near Mongolia. There was hope that the hardy animals could eventually provide meat for the starving.

President James had given an ultimatum to the United Nations. She begin with,

“If I may dare to paraphrase the late, great Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the only thing we have to fear is ourselves. I do not wish to be blasphemous, but God can’t save us—we must save ourselves. Either we strangle slowly to death in our own humanity, or we come to grips with and solve our serious population problem.

It is no longer good enough to hide behind religious dogma, government policy, or even a genuine concern for the poor, unheard from, masses. I behooves us to use whatever means possible, no matter how stringent, no matter how seemingly cruel, to stem the tide of population growth for the good of all. You have seen what has happened to the weather. You have seen what has happened to our food. You have seen disease decimate us. You have seen our lives degraded to mere existence. You have seen the despair of the cold, hungry, starving masses.

It is not a question of who will die—we all will. It is a question of how we will live and die. Do we have to take all life on the planet down with us? I say no!

The United States has begun the process. We are mandating abortion for all who cannot provide proof of substantial support for each child they bear through college. We are mandating benign euthanasia for those whose lives have become unsustainable or have a terminal illness. We are mandating swift death sentences for those serving life without parole, convicted of violent crimes, and convicted of crimes against the environment. Ladies and Gentlemen, we must reach a worldwide sustainable population less than two billion by the turn of the next century, or life, as we know it, will disappear from the face of the Earth … forever.”

She then collapsed from the emotion of what she had just said. The delegates were stunned, but resigned to the truth in her words.

For those who had not seen the International Net holocast, the media picked it up and rebroadcast it for all to see. To some, the announcement was a relief. To others, it was confirmation of their worst nightmare. The tyranny of growth had finally caught up with us, and we had to pay the price—decide who would live or die. Nature had always decided for us. But we had pushed nature back until nature was deciding again. Only this time, instead of letting the strong live, we would all die—unless—unless we reversed all our dogma about the value of human life and the technology that sustained it. To go forward, we must return to the life of our ancestors—hunt and gather no more than it took to sustain us.

The staff had watched the President’s speech in rapt attention, and then returned to their projects. Their missions were even more important now. Albert’s mind was on his next. He couldn’t sleep that night. He left the next morning.

The Interstate was nearly deserted. Gasoline, diesel and propane were just too expensive. When he got to Staunton, he turned onto U.S. 250 and headed west into the mountains. So many houses dotted the slopes now that it appeared like Pittsburgh or Morgantown. Only many of the houses, abandoned and unkempt, made the area look blighted, like it had a disease. The bright spot was the redbud, azalea, and forsythia that bloomed brightly near every house, abandoned or not.

His memory was strong of the time he’d driven that old Mustang on this road for the very first time, nearly a half-century before. The hillsides were only sparsely inhabited then, before the rush of retirees with golden parachutes from the Eastern seaboard invaded. As these expatriates from the city grew old and died, there was no one who could afford to buy their places. Eventually they became havens for raccoons, possum, bats, snakes, owls, and other creatures from the nearby forest.

As he climbed the road got narrower and the houses fewer. Finally he was in the state forest as he remembered it, fighting the wheel on the switchbacks as he climbed the mountain. As he reached the Appalachian divide and West Virginia, the road improved, but about five feet of snow remained from the previous winter. The road was clear and dry, so his descent was easy. The electric braking in the Chevy handled the steep incline with ease. Except for his memory, there was no sign of the white-knuckle trip with faded brakes he’d had in 1971 with his Mustang. He was grateful for that—one less thing to worry about.

He streamed some old ‘70s music from a satellite and cruised on to Green Bank. The familiar arcs of the radio telescope antennae loomed above the trees. In spite a many upgrades, the equipment here at the National Radio Observatory was now obsolete. NSF scientists had moved on to space-based radio scopes to avoid earthly interference. SETI was stronger than ever. A whole cult had grown up around finding an extraterrestrial solution to our problems. They were planning SETI II …. But … that wasn’t what was on his mind.

He was thinking of Esther, how he met her that day when he arrived, and how he loved her. Tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t stop. He knew no one there anymore.

Green Bank was a museum of the Twentieth Century. It was also too much of a reminder of her.

Albert drove on, through retirement communities and played-out strip mines until he reached Beckley, about 3pm. He got himself a motel room, bought some red roses at a florist, and then headed out to the cemetery.

Basking in the glow of the end of a warm spring day, the hillside cemetery was alive with color and activity. Otherwise, it was deserted. The grass was springtime green. The azaleas were brilliant red, purple, pink, and white. The redbud trees were glowing pink. The dogwoods were a white carpet up under the canopy of larger hardwoods. And the forsythia cast a bright yellow against the gray headstones. Birds darted from tree to tree, singing mating songs, and bees buzzed loudly as they savored the bouquet before them. Albert had never been here, but he had little trouble finding her grave.

Esther Caddell Repaul

April 27, 1948 – August 25, 1974

“Her Spirit Soars as She Rests with the Angels”

His tears flowed uncontrollably. He hadn’t expected so much emotion. It all came back to him now. He didn’t think about coming here to free her, he just put down his flowers and cried. Afterward he felt much better. As he descended to the little white church below, he thought about how pale his roses were against the backdrop of nature’s beauty. Here, she could hear the birds sing and the children laugh as they came to Sunday school. Here, she rested in peace. Should he change that? He put the thought aside.

From the car in the church parking lot, he sent encrypted messages to Anne, Ping, and Khundi, saying how elated he was to be able to participate in an experiment that could help save the human race and bring Esther back, too. He hoped that the NSA or FBI hadn’t intercepted the transmission. He didn’t think so; there were billions of them each day.

It was getting dark as he left the cemetery. He stopped at a favorite restaurant of theirs for dinner. It was now a hangout for retirees, but otherwise the same. He dragged out his meal as long as he could. He wanted to put off the anticipation and dread that was welling up in him—he couldn’t.

Back at the motel, he watched the latest Tiger Woods action holo. In it, Tiger defeats a hoard of spore-crazed mutants from the dregs of 22nd Century Chicago. The coastal cities were, fortunately, not involved because they were all under water. At least Albert could slow down the action scenes to try to catch what was happening. Kids these days liked to speed them up and try to guess the outcomes before they happened.

News feeds and a little erotica brought him to 2am and time to go. He was shaking as he walked out into the cool spring air. With the Chevy wrapped around him like a cocoon, its warmth and motion helped quell the fear. He reached the cemetery too soon. Parking behind the church so as not to be seen from the road, he gathered a prepared backpack and put it on.

He climbed the hill in the cool darkness of a half moon. An owl hooted in the distance and he could hear the flutter of bats chasing flying insects overhead; otherwise, it was quiet. When he reached the grave he put the pack down and steadied himself for the task at hand. He took a battery powered heavy-duty, all-purpose drill out of the pack and attached a 3-inch circular drill bit. He picked a spot about two feet from and centered on, the headstone. In a minute, he had cut a plug of sod and put it aside.

Then, he took a three-inch auger, four feet long, in two, two-foot sections. He locked the sections together and attached it to the drill. The auger dug quickly through the porous soil, hitting the casket with a “thud” after about ten minutes of boring. Removing the auger from the hole gently and setting it aside, he added another, smaller auger to the tip. Dropping it gently back into the hole, he applied pressure and bored a hole into the casket. When it broke through, a pungent odor rose from the hole and he gagged a bit as he turned away.

Fortunately, after the initial burst, the smell was bearable. Albert pulled the auger from the hole again and removed a telescoping endoscope from the pack. The endoscope had a light and a camera on the shaft and a carbon steel cup-shaped cutter on the end. A four-inch square flat panel display on the handle helped him guide the endoscope into position. As it entered the hole in the casket, it picked up the bright red and yellow of the wrap Esther had worn that fateful night. It shocked him at first until he realized that sealed in the coffin, the fabric hadn’t faded in all those years.

Esther’s body was another matter. It had dried, not unlike Seti’s. After groping around where to cut, he finally settled on a spot. To activate the cutter, capable of cutting bone, he merely had to squeeze a pliers grip on the handle and powerful motors on the head would operate the halves of the cutter. After retrieving the first piece of tissue from what appeared to be her arm, he inserted the endoscope three more times to be sure he got enough. He didn’t want to have to return.

He pushed the augured dirt back into the hole. He had to probe it with a rod and tamp it to get it all in. He placed the plug of sod in place. Except for a small amount of excess dirt, the spot looked untouched in the moonlight. With Esther’s tissue safely in special vials in the pack with the tools, he carefully descended to the Chevy. He didn’t relay his success, just drove back to Beckley and the motel. He was just another grave robber stealing away in the night.

Albert slept fitfully until dawn, then left early and retraced his route to the Johns Hopkins Biotech Center. They were waiting for him. Ping ran up and gave him a big hug. “Did you do it?” She whispered in his ear.

“Yes, I did.” Suddenly, the tension of the mission was over. It was time to work. “There are four samples in the pack. The equipment worked perfectly.”

Rao gave him a hug and took the pack. “I’m very curious how closely related she is to that King Seti II. It looks like we got a good sample from him. We are preparing the specimen we will use to reconnect the fragmented DNA and we should know in a couple of weeks. It will be the same for her, except I believe we will find her DNA more intact. All we probably have to do is correct any errors we find before cloning her. Ping, as we agreed, can carry her. We’ll have Alice carry the little king. I’m so glad that we have young researchers working with us so willing to help. We couldn’t do it without you.”

They had reached the lodge and it was time for dinner. After dropping the pack in the lab, Dr. Khundi returned with Alice Long and joined Albert and Ping at the dinner table.

Rao had Alice pour a round of wine. Then he raised a glass. “A toast to good friends and our success.” Everyone raised their glasses. He continued, “I’m not sure what bringing immortality into our population problem will bring, but I’m hopeful that it will be part of the solution. For now, I want to keep it under wraps. If it is okay with Anne, I want them to grow up in the calm of the New Wilderness.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I shouldn’t speak for Anne, but she is so happy with Dominic she wouldn’t have it any other way. What about you, Alice, can you do it without Tom? Albert wanted to know her conviction.

Alice couldn’t wait to speak. “I’ve been preparing for this ever since I heard you were going to clone your former wife. I was the one who analyzed her DNA from that hair sample. I was a bit jealous when Ping got to bear Dominic. Now that she has, I’m ready to do my part. Tom won’t mind. He’s just glad to be a part of this grand experiment.”

Ping waited her turn. “I’ve got mixed feelings. It’s wonderful to be a Mommy and all—I can’t wait to get back to my little guy—but I miss being here where the action is. Just this one more time, because I want a girl!” She had declared which clone she wanted. No one objected.

The next day work began in earnest.

“Look at this!” It was unusual for excitement in the lab, but Alice had discovered something that was worth shouting about. Everyone gathered around to see what she was so excited about.

“See that!” She was pointing to a sequence of letters on her computer monitor. “He has a 47XYY chromosome! No wonder his life story is so strange. If true to the syndrome, he was tall, physically strong and virulent, and had a difficult time maturing and fitting in. With the right hormone combination, he was also most probably violent. If he hadn’t contracted schistosomiasis, who knows what damage he would have inflicted on his people? As an absolute ruler, I bet he left a trail of bodies in his wake! And I’m going the bear this monster?”

Khundi was quick to respond. “We’ll have to correct that. While it would be interesting to study, I don’t think we can afford to deal with genetic defects in an immortal. We don’t want any schistosomiasis either. Make sure that that parasite is completely removed from its host.”

Esther was a different story. Her DNA was relatively clean. There was some disposition towards diabetes; otherwise, she appeared to be a very healthy individual. When it came time to compare the two genomes, everyone in the lab huddled around the comparative holos. Just as Albert had expected, they were almost identical. There was a lot of Esther in the King, and a lot of the King in Esther. All this proved was that not only had Nubians ruled Egypt from time to time, but their blood also came from the Egyptian Royal Family. The Royal Family was fanatic about the purity of their linage to the point of extensive incest. However, as widely suspected, Nubians were highly attractive to the Family, both male and female. The result of these liaisons was evident in Esther’s blood.

Eggs were drawn from Ping and Alice and prepared. DNA was screened and perfected. Albert left for New Wilderness to attend to his experiments and crops. The girls were impregnated in August, and would spend the first trimester at the Biotech Center. A medical team would winter in Ishpeming in case there were any problems with the pregnancies. The births were expected in April. They too would be as inconspicuous as possible.

Chapter 8

Hope from on High

Central Valles Marineris, Mars: July 4, 2017, 9:07 EDT

“One small step for a man, one great hope for humankind.” Scott Murphy paraphrased Neil Armstrong, as he was the first to step onto the rim of Valles Marineris. The four others in the landing party followed him quickly down the ramp to the surface. Thirty others watched as they rotated above. A collective cheer rose from the four billion watching on Earth. The cheer from above was heard immediately. The cheer from Earth was not heard for twelve minutes. Rust red dust began collecting on their snow-white boots as they set up a collage of 134 flags, signifying the countries that had made significant contributions to the effort. The planet had been conquered a year earlier than President Gore had commanded. It was not accomplished without travail.

The Lyndon B. Johnson Manned Spacecraft Center had to be moved to Waxahachie in 2010. Rising water levels had inundated part of Galveston Island and threatened the complex at Clear Lake. It was traumatic at the time, but the 10,000 acre complex at the abandoned Super Conducting Supercollider (SSC) site was ideal to accommodate the equipment and personnel from Clear Lake. Tired of fighting floods and hurricanes, the employees were also glad to move. It took two years to build the necessary buildings, but only six months to complete the move.

The SSC was revived. President Gore declared high-energy particle physics as, “…The ace in Mankind’s deck of cards.” Congress immediately released natural gas overcharge funds to completing the remaining forty miles of tunnel system and the latest Hydron magnets and colliders for the site. By combining SSC and the MSC, billions were expected to be saved. Real estate values from Waco to Corsicana shot sky high, rivaling Silicon-Gallium Valley.

The International Space Laboratory proved what MIR had already demonstrated—zero gravity is highly detrimental to human bodies. The craft constructed for the trip to Mars was cylindrical. The outer wall was constructed as a floor. When rotated at a calculated speed, centrifugal force simulated Earth’s gravity. This insured that the crew would arrive at the Red Planet from the ten-to twenty-month trip strong and healthy. No one knew what long-term stays on the reduced gravity of the planet would do. The Moonscape Center occupants had to spend hours in centrifuges each day to maintain calcium in their bones and muscle tone. Workers at Moonscape were paid handsomely for their hazardous duty and rotated often. With only ten years’ experience, it was not known what long-term effects would accompany long stays there.

Beginning in 2003, an onslaught of orbiters and rovers had arrived at the Red Planet. It was said that more was known of the surface of Mars than our own Earth. A communications network, rivaling that orbiting Earth, had been put into service in 2009, to coordinate the myriad surface projects and relay the massive information flow to Earth. After much study, design reviews, and simulations, Valles Marineris was chosen as the primary first settlement site.

Ingenious robot boring rovers had penetrated the crust to twenty thousand feet. The results were very promising. Aquifers with vast amounts of water and gas were found. Minerals, as in variety and abundant as on Earth, were found. And heat was found. The planet’s core was not only molten, as long theorized by astrophysicists; the heat was easily tapped through hot water sources underground.

The first arrivals would set up a domed enclosure like Moonscape, codenamed Marscape, near the rim of the great rift valley, Valles Marineris. The valley, or Grand Canyon of Mars, stretches 2500 miles and is four miles deep in places. The winning design was ingenious, submitted by Ti Seng, a fifteen-year-old high school student from Canton. Initially, mining at Marscape would provide raw material to build an elevator system down the canyon wall. From there, openings, similar to the ancient cliff dwellings in the American Southwest, would be cut into the sides of the canyon and sealed with glass. The openings would require little heating and cooling. They would become entrances to mines and provide housing for small groups of people. Huge hanging glass gardens would be built adjacent to the dwellings, providing food and oxygen for the dwellings. During the long Martian winter, the gardens would either be augmented with heat and lighting, or shut down. After bridges are built across the chasm, the gardens could be moved to the opposite canyon wall, prolonging the growing season.

The site, near the equator and midway along the rift, was also chosen for a branch, projecting perpendicular from the main rift for twenty miles. While the branch blocked movement along the rim, it was relatively narrow—about two miles across—and easily bridged. Surveys showed that a road could be built from the end of the branch leading down to the valley floor. Seng’s second phase would be to entirely roof this valley, providing growing space for 100,000 inhabitants. Codenamed Red Valley, the site would only be developed if it could be built without serious damage to the Martian ecosystem.

For those just arrived, the euphoria couldn’t mask the reality setting in. As they took turns relaying their first impressions, three things became immediately evident. First, the reduced gravity added a lightness to their steps. It also made a palpable impression on their inner ears, organs, and balance. It took some getting used to. The thought of eight hours of gravity enhancement during sleep periods every day was working on their psyches.

Second, was the Sun. On Hope, the mother ship constructed in space that had brought them here, they gradually saw the Sun retreating during their months in transit. Now, they saw it in diminutive form, distant and weak, casting an eternal twilight on the bleak, red landscape. It brought home how far from home they were.

Finally, they tried to communicate. Everyone on Earth was tuned to instant communication, worldwide. The landing party was so accustomed to being bombarded with information from multiple sources at once, responding verbally or visually to each, that waiting twelve minutes for a reply from Earth was a sobering experience. It was as if the world had been transported back to a time when communication was done by letter or telegraph. In a crisis, they would be on their own.

Young people, glued to their holos at first, drifted off into games or other pursuits after a few minutes of not having instant response to their inquiries. Earthly responses, set up by Mars Mission Control for just such an eventuality, were easily detected by the astute, and tuned out. Only older citizens—some like Albert who had seen Armstrong step on the Moon—were willing to stay on and communicate through the delays. After a few days even stalwarts couldn’t stand the waiting anymore, preferring instead to listen to or read daily composite dispatches prepared by Mission Control. Unlike earlier space forays, the crew of Hope was alone.

The others arrived in two shuttles in two-hour intervals. Soon, thirty were on the planet. They had brought their housing with them. They set it up before an errant meteor or some other catastrophe beset them. Outside, they had to wear their suits to ward off the lethal, too thin atmosphere, stray x and gamma rays from the sun or deep space, and the bitter cold. It wouldn’t be until Phase Two that anyone would be able to walk on the Martian surface without life support. That’s why, after six months, they were rotating out. It would be years before anyone came to stay. Faith and Charity were already on their way, accompanied by unmanned cargo ships of colossal size.

Cosmopolitan, November 21, 2017. A Letter from Mars: Sex on Long Space Voyages by Dr. Shaunda B. Davis, medical officer. Copyright © 2017, Cosmopolitan.Com.

“I have received many inquiries about how the United Space Command views sex on long space voyages. You are all aware of the pleasure palaces that have sprung up in the tourist orbit trade; the USC in no way condemns or condones such private enterprises. We have, however been deeply concerned about the well being of our astronauts since we opened Moonscape and embarked on Destination Mars.

Fifteen years ago, a panel of distinguished anthropologists, sociologists, psychologists, clergy, and medical professionals was commissioned to establish a policy for deep space exploration that would make sense and enhance mission capability. I was a member of that panel.

To place thirty-five young, virile astronauts together on a space ship for months at a time and expect them to remain celibate is unrealistic and impractical. Every effort is made to occupy the crews in structured and meaningful work during long periods of travel. However, alertness and spontaneity must be maintained, or the crew would be unable to react appropriately to emergencies that could be expected.

To maintain optimal health, a healthy sex life is required. Under the stress of long periods of limited stimulation, the very characteristics prized in our astronauts could become jeopardized. Hormone adjustments or other drug approaches aren’t the answer; nor are rigid social rules set by the Command.

Studies have shown that humans are not monogamous. While some animals mate for life, humans and primates don’t. Monogamy is a moral concept for providing continuity for children and families valued by society. The current deep space effort is no place for children. Crews are made up of individuals with highly specialized contributions to a team objective, not members of a genome tree, or family. In order to maintain health and order on long voyages, the Command recommends that sex with multiple partners be the rule. Astronaut training illustrates the danger in maintaining rigid sexual hierarchies along with command hierarchies. Most simulations involving forms of abstinence and monogamy quickly lead to a dysfunctional crew. The well being of all must supersede the well being of the few in long missions. Sexual manipulation or harassment in any form cannot be tolerated. Sex must be viewed as a positive force to strengthen bonding and mutual trust between crewmembers.

Astronauts are given several methods of contraception, most reversible, to use at their own discretion. All crewmembers are screened for sexually transmitted diseases and cured, if necessary. The Hope crew has two members with cured diseases. All pregnancies are terminated after the first detection in the first trimester.

In time, children will have their place in extended families involving entire crews. For now, sex is encouraged, but children are not.

Yes, we have had sex in all the ways you imagine. No, most of us do not engage in sex that abuses our bodies. Yes, sex in zero gravity can be very stimulating. No, sometimes we want to have the feel and help of full Earth gravity.

For now, all sex in monitored rooms is filtered out. For those voyeurs out there, the policy has worked so well that we are recommending that those feeds be unfiltered and available to the public. We feel we are on the verge of a shameless, blameless society. I for one feel no shame in telling you that having you see me in ecstasy is most welcomed.

If you have any questions you can contact Dr. Davis at Shaunda.B.Davis@Hope.ISC.Gov.

The letter, picked up and re-released through The New York Times, created a sensation. The Pope allied with the powers at Mecca and the Christian Right to condemn it as blasphemy. World leaders, beset with problems with population, declined to comment. Religious zealots once again declared that Armageddon was at hand.

Anne put the article on her calendar to remind herself to discuss it with Ping and Alice when they arrived. She and Albert had had many discussions about this very subject—sometimes during intimate moments.

December 24, 2017, 2:17 EST

“Commander Murphy, we have undocked. We have Carton 24 and Rotation 11. We expect touchdown in ten minutes.” Pilot Tim Huong announced a routine departure from Hope to Marscape with a full load and crew.

“Okay Tim, try to hit the landing pad. We don’t want to kick up too much dust. The wind’s picked up to about 20 knots. Looks like we are in for another dust storm. want to get you in and out before it totally reds out. I tell you, these storms are really wearing on me. If we weren’t in the dome or underground most of the time, this place would be hell. Everything okay?”

“She checks out 100%. We were having a problem with #3 thruster freezing up, but Gordon says that he fixed it on his eva the other day. Gordon is still awed every time he evas. The Red Planet ain’t Earth; it’s a whole different experience, floating out here in space, so far from the sun, over an alien world.”

“Don’t I know it. It must be the gravity, but I just can’t get accustomed to being here. I trained for this, and it’s exciting. We have plants growing and goats and pigs running around, but I can’t get used to it.”

“It’s just the strain, Scott. When we get home, you’ll long for being here again. There’s no place like where the action is.”

“Speaking of action, I see you, and you are coming in fast.”

“Two thousand, thrusters on full, closing 50 ps. Computers compensating for the wind. Crew—lock in place for touchdown. Fifteen hundred, pad in sight, 30 ps. One thousand, thrusters 80%, on target, 20 ps. Five hundred, thrusters 50%, closing at ten. Alarm! Thruster 3 frozen. We are starting to turn over. Have gone to manual … I can’t compensate … I can’t ….”

Scott Murphy and the ground crew watched in horror as Shuttle 2 slowly turned over, its three remaining thrusters pushing it off course and speeding it, upside down into the surface a hundred yards from the pad. All on board were lost in the crumpled mass. A fire flared, but was immediately extinguished by the Martian atmosphere. The only compensation was that it didn’t hit Marscape and Mars Shuttle 1 remained berthed on Hope above.

Seven minutes later, Mars Mission Control received the conversation in its entirety, along with Scott’s anguished remarks to the landing crew, standing by in disbelief. Memorial services were held and the Earth mourned for days. The bodies were recovered and transported to Hope when the dust storm subsided a month later. A five-month old fetus was found when Dr. Davis’ body was scanned.

On July 4, 2019, Scott Murphy and twenty-six members of his crew stepped off Clydesdale Republic at Dulles International Airport at noon to a review by the leaders of over 100 countries. The fireworks lasted all night. Murphy, appearing ten years older than when he left, praised the heroics of his crew and their great accomplishments on the Martian surface.

There was a moment of silence for eight fallen comrades. A meteorite the size of a marble ran through Barry Eagleclaw, an ironworker, working on an elevator to Cliff Dwelling #3. Dr. Ulna Singh and her technician, Marcel Fontangue suffocated when their oxygen supply failed in their materials laboratory. Captain Timothy Y. Huong; Dr. Shaunda B. Davis, medical officer (with child); Nicholas Kosinski, miner; Dr. Miller Anyanwu, agronomist; and Hans Olsen, metallurgist, all died in the Shuttle 2 crash.

In the hour of speeches for the eight fallen heroes, over 10,000 people died from starvation, disease, and natural disasters. The loss of the shuttle and lives caused the first mission to meet only half of its intended objectives before rotating out.

When asked if he was going back, Murphy replied, “Maybe… in a hundred years!” The crew echoed his sentiments. Millions in the suffering world eagerly signed up for the lottery that would take them, provided they were physically fit and could survive the rigorous physical and mental training involved, on one of the continuing line of crews shipping out monthly for the Red Planet. The “Red Gold Rush”, as it came to be called, was on.

Chapter 9

Extended Family

The New Wilderness: Late November 2017

It was easy for the team from Johns Hopkins to rent a house for the winter in Ishpeming. The couple that owned it had had it up for sale for two years. They now lived just outside Monterrey, Mexico in one of the many expatriate American and Canadian enclaves that had sprung up. The purpose of the team of five men was to be ready to assist if anything went wrong with the pregnancies, and see to it that they got to the hospital on time. While always on call, the team did not sit idle. They volunteered their services at Marquette General Hospital. An arrangement with the county had them standing by for snow search and rescues, common this time of year. They were welcome, no questions asked. There was a shortage of trained medical personnel. Rescues were demanding more volunteers as the climate changed.

The house was well equipped to deal with the harsh winters. It was just off 28 and only a little over an hour by snowmobile from New Wilderness. The snowmobiles were electric and powered by fuel cells. They had a range of 300 miles and ran silent. Infrared speed and range sensors sounded the familiar universal backing up signal when the snowmobiles sensed impending collision with warm objects. Capable of speeds in excess of sixty miles per hour, the alarms were necessary to keep from sneaking up on humans and animals in their path.

Ping and Alice arrived snug in sleds pulled behind the snowmobiles on December 1. Tracking monitors announced their arrival twenty minutes before they arrived. Albert and Anne were waiting, outside.

“Hi! Come on inside. We’ve got some hot chocolate and toddy if you guys need one. Let me help you with those bags. Then, I’ll show you around.” Albert always enjoyed showing his place to occasional visitors. The snow was only two feet deep, so the visitors had little trouble getting to the path Albert had shoveled.

“Gee, this is really neat! We’ve had heavy snow at Biotech, but here I really feel like I’m in the wilderness. We saw deer, moose, and snowshoe hare coming in. I can’t wait to hear the wolves howl.” Alice was gushing superlatives as she followed the others to the door.

Anne dispensed hot drinks to the visitors while Ping rushed to a playpen where Dominic was busy playing with a loud and colorful holo toy. “How’s m’boy!” she exclaimed as she lifted him out of the playpen and rocked him in her arms, hugging and kissing him. “My how you’ve grown! Such blue eyes! Such a head of hair! Such a cute nose!”

Dom put up with her overtures, smiling. When she put him down to grab a cup and talk to the others for a moment, he reached up and grabbed her pant leg. Pulling on it, he exclaimed, “Mommy Ping, Mommy Ping!”

“What Dear?” Ping was smiling from ear to ear to hear her name.

“Take me to see the bunnies—I want to see the bunnies!”

There was no stopping him; so Anne brought his parka, and Ping took him out to see the bunnies. She wanted to see them too.

“Time for a tour.” Albert announced as Ping went out with Dom on her arm. Alice and the two paramedics followed him out.

Anne was pleased to see so much commotion. She had really missed Ping. Holos were no substitute for face-toface communication. Soon, Ping returned with a tired-looking little boy in her arms. They both headed into the little spare room to put him in his bed for a nap.

“It’s going to be a little tight in here, but we’ll manage. I want to talk to you two about that later.” They hugged. Anne was planning.

“How’s he been? He sure looks great!”

“Hasn’t been sick a day—good stock. I took him in for his immunizations in August. I’m so glad he got one for Lyme disease. He’s going to get into plenty of ticks here. Also got encephalitis. If I could just get rid of all those damned mosquitoes. The dragonflies and Purple Martins feast from May to September!”

Albert took Alice and the paramedics to the workshops, greenhouse, and experiments. They ended up out on the lake in his recently set-up ice fishing shanty. The men were impressed. Alice tried a jig and immediately caught a nice, fat bluegill. “Fifty more of those, and we’ll have supper!” Albert joked. He reached into a cabinet, pulled out his fillet knife, and, in a few moments, filleted the fish. He dropped the remains into the hole. “Food for the big ones.”

He wrapped the fillet in leaves in plastic and dropped it into a cooler to freeze and they returned to the cabin. The paramedics had to leave, so they pushed the sleds into shelters Albert had made for them so that the girls could be evacuated easily in deep snow. A helicopter would only be used in a dire emergency.

“I hope you’ll be happy here. We’re pretty isolated and winter can be confining.” Albert was testing Alice’s resolve as they walked back to the cabin. He’d seen others fail.

“Oh Dr. Repaul, I’m so excited to finally be here. I’ve admired you and your work since I gave a report on wolves in high school. I vowed to have a man like that some day—strong and independent. Instead I got Thomas—a nerd!” She laughed and winked at Albert as if she was glad to be free of him.

Albert laughed too. He was beginning to like this brash girl. He escorted her to the cabin to get settled in, and turned back to the shanty to catch some fresh fish for supper.

Inside, Alice was helping the girls. She could see, as they unpacked in the spare room that it was going to be tight. She thought out loud, quietly so as not to disturb Dominic. “We could move Dom’s crib out into the big room, but it still would be tight. Guess I wasn’t thinking when I thought one of you could sleep on the sofa bed.”

“It’s okay. I once slept on the floor for a year in college when three of us saved on housing at St Mary’s. This is Ping’s room—and Ping’s little guy. He’s staying here. I’ll camp out.”

“I think I’m going to like this girl!” Anne announced as she hugged Alice and Dominic stirred a bit. Putting a finger to her lips she whispered, “What do you think, Ping?”

“I think it’s going to work out just fine.” Ping joined them in the hug.

After unpacking the bags, they returned to the kitchen in the big room for hot-spiced apple juice Ping made. Anne poured herself some homemade wine. I’m glad I never was pregnant; don’t think I could go that long without my wine.”

“Oh, it’s easy when you know you are providing nutrition for two with everything you eat and drink. When I think of the poor starving mothers in China, I know how lucky I am.” Ping looked a bit downcast.

This was the time, Anne thought, to change the subject. “You probably have noticed that I put the eCom in sleep. I didn’t want to disturb your first few hours here. We don’t get many messages, but the interruptions can be annoying at times. I have read that pregnancy can be very stimulating—that it’s the most sexual thing that can happen to a woman—is that so?”

“Oh yes, you don’t know how many times when I was carrying Dom—when he moved or kicked. Everything was super sensitive. Some times I just got horny!” It seemed strange coming out of Ping’s mouth.

“Yes, I feel it too. Sometimes I’m sick. Other times I wish my baby wasn’t a clone so I’d have a man.” Alice agreed with Ping.

“Well, I saw this letter the other day in Cosmo and posted it to my calendar so that you guys could read it. eCom, screen on. Calendar, December 1st. Open, letter. Page down.” Anne remained silent and reread Dr. Davis’ letter while the girls read it. Both of them got a little pink in their cheeks before they finished it.

Ping spoke first. “Are you suggesting ….” She was really flushed now.

“Yes, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. I’ve enjoyed sex more than most. It never did me any harm. Although we were loving and comforting when you carried Dom, we didn’t meet all your needs. Did you ever fantasize about Albert?”

“Well… yes.” Ping’s shyness was showing. “Sometimes, especially when I traveled with him, I’d get these thoughts. But, being professional, I’d put them out of my mind.”

“I was beginning to wonder how I was going to do here without Thomas. I’ve had a crush on your Albert since high school. Are you really willing to share him with us?”

Anne beamed. It was obvious she got her point across. “Absolutely! And I hope you’ll let me get so close to you that I will feel your pregnancy like it was my own. Your first, Alice, will be my first too, okay!” The girls nodded in agreement, their embarrassment magically disappeared.

“I want this to be a surprise for Albert, okay? We can spring it on him gently this evening, before the fire.” Anne reached for their hands across the table. Holding hands, they nodded in agreement again.

Anne picked up the messages on the eCom while the girls started preparations for dinner. Dom woke up and wandered underfoot. Anne responded to an arrival inquiry from Rao Khundi, to let him know that all had arrived and were fine. They caught him in his office, working late, so everyone got to talk.

It was already dark when Albert brought the two small northern and three bluegills he’d caught to join the one Alice had earlier to the cabin. The stove had already been stoked and there was a warmth to the place he hadn’t felt before. While the fish baked on the side oven, he got out his best wine and had the girls bring him up-to-date on progress at the Biotech Center. Woolly was growing fast and waiting on his companion, Dima, still in gestation. The girls both felt honored to be a part of genetic science history. They were glad that there was no publicity.

After dinner they all retired to animal furs in front of the stove. Albert opened the doors so they could watch the flames and put more wood on the fire while the women put Dom to bed. There was something magic, primordial about staring into a night fire on a cold winter’s night. Albert could only imagine what it had been like for the Iceman, now safe and warm in his crib, on cold nights like this. Did he feel as warm staring into the fire? He could only imagine. Dom could not tell him.

Albert was feeling tipsy—too much food and good wine. Alice was stretched out next to him, but turned toward Anne and Ping, talking about their experiences with pregnancy. Anne said something about “not showing” to Ping. Ping pulled up her sweater and pushed down the top of her pants. Curious, he came to his elbows. Yes, her tummy was still flat. Albert could see the top of Ping’s pubic hair showing. Anne was gently rubbing Ping’s tummy.

“I am getting some swelling in my boobs.” He heard Ping say. With that, Anne pulled Ping’s sweater up over her breasts. He had seen Ping’s breasts before when she nursed Dom, but never like this. They were small and well proportioned, with light brown nipples that stuck straight out what seemed like a half inch. There appeared to be swelling around the areola where there was redness.

“My nipples are so sensitive.” Anne’s hands moved to cup Ping’s breasts, gently massaging them. Her fingers brushed those nipples and Ping reacted, arching her back and pushing her breasts into those moving hands. Ping then pushed harder on the top of her pants with her left hand as she slipped her right hand in, over her pubic hair.

Anne was pulling Ping’s sweater off when Alice turned suddenly toward Albert and stared straight into his eyes. That look was unmistakable. She pulled her sweater up and offered her bare left breast to him. He looked for Anne’s approval, but Anne was busy kissing Ping and fondling her breasts. He touched Alice’s breast lightly to her loving gaze and began to kiss it. He felt Alice’s hands unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper. As her hand slid in, he was erect and hard to meet it. He was kissing her mouth ….

Everyone had an orgasm. Anne had four or five He awoke later that night to find Alice warm beside him on the left and Anne on the right. On other nights it was Ping. They never used the sofa bed. Anne was happier than he’d ever seen her.

The winter passed quickly. The paramedics came every two weeks to check on the girls. The snow pack was less, only eight feet in mid February. Albert gathered his usual store of meat, vegetables, and fish. Dominic grew into a little man, asking continuously when he would see his brother and sister. He was so active he was getting to be a bit of a pain.

In April, two weeks before Ping’s girl was due, Alice started to have problems with false labor. To be safe, the girls were moved to the Ishpeming house until they were due. Spring was everywhere in the air, but Anne and Albert felt an emptiness with them gone. Dom continually asked, “Where’s Mommy Ping and Auntie Alice?”

Albert reassured him that they were close, and that he’d see them and his brother and sister soon. They kept in touch continuously, so he could see them in holos. He didn’t quite understand where they were.

The morning of April 16, they got the call. Albert and Anne hopped onto a snowmobile, unused all winter, and with Dom tied securely on Anne’s backpack, started it up for the run to the All Wheel. They arrived at Marquette General by 1pm. At 3:43 that afternoon, Seala Esther Repaul arrived, 6.38 pounds, and right on schedule. The Johns Hopkins team stayed in the background while Ping gave up her second child to adoption to the same, loving couple as her first, the Repauls.

The hospital staff didn’t know who she was. Rumors circulated about the Oriental woman giving birth to a black baby. They remembered that cute little boy, too, now so blue-eyed and blonde. She must be some kind of slut, having babies without regard to the population controls in place. Albert could see it in the hospital staff faces.

The next day, mother and baby traveled to the Ishpeming house with the Repauls. Alice, confined to bed to prevent giving birth too early, was happy to see them. She was tired of waiting and not being able to get around, but encouraged by her happy family. Ping decided to stay.

“Anne, Albert, wake up!” The emergency override on the eCom had a way of interrupting even the deepest sleep. Frightened, Dominic started crying. It was an anxious Ping calling. “She’s in labor and we are going to let her deliver here rather than risk going to the hospital!”

It was 2am, but they gathered up a disoriented little Dom and hopped on the snowmobile once again. He was easily fast asleep as their headlight danced off tree trunks and startled deer jumped out of the way on the well-marked road out. It brought back memories of many night rides in his youth, when gasoline was cheap and snowmobiles raucously split the silence of the night. The alarm worked well, sounding well before he saw anything in their path. Otherwise, there was only the sound of the rubber track gripping the crusty snow. The spring night was full of animals, so the alarm went off more often than he liked. He wished he could turn it off and run silently. That was just too dangerous.

Ping opened the door when they reached the house. Alice had given up the baby two weeks prematurely at 2:17am, when the little guy backed his way out, kicking. Seti Amenope Repaul, at 5.89 pounds, was the smallest, but the loudest, of the births. Alice, weak from her ordeal, was glad that it was over.

Alice presented herself as an unmarried member of the Ishpeming volunteer rescue team. She said that she had heard of the good work the Repauls were doing in the New Wilderness and wanted to give her baby to them. The father was supposedly an Indian co-worker at Johns Hopkins. Rao Khundi emailed a release from him for the adoption.

Ping stayed at the house for three days with Alice until she was able to travel, then little babes in arms, they returned to a big celebration at the cabin.

Chapter 10

Growing Up Wild

The New Wilderness: 2018

Alice returned to the Biotech Center in the fall. She was proud to have done her part, but eager to get back to her research. Ping was torn. She finally talked Rao into keeping her on the staff and to do her work remotely on eCom. She didn’t tell him, but he knew that she had fallen in love with the kids, and their parents.

The kids didn’t know the difference. They thought two mommies and a daddy was normal. Affection flowed all around. Albert and Anne were relieved. Being left with Dom in his terrible twos and two others in diapers was a daunting thought. The kids took over the spare room and Ping shared the master bed.

Biotech continued to rent the house in Ishpeming. Occasionally, teams of scientists would stay there for visits to see the immortals. Everything was kept low key, disguised as liaison work with Albert’s experiments

Summers had become quite tropical, with high humidity and warm temperatures. Without air conditioning, they slept on a screened-in porch, and cooled off in the spring fed waters of the lake. With the carbon dioxide shift came a rapid, lush growth in the summer, only to be followed by harsh winters. Strict controls were expected to reverse global warming, but not for a century. Until then, they had to adapt.

The animals found it hard to adapt. The heat and humidity of summer and the snow and cold of winter were hard on them. The survival of the fittest and most adaptable became clear and pronounced. Occasionally, Albert participated in transplanting hardier species into habitat where the genetic pool was too weak to survive. Cloning was used to quickly multiply the strongest stock. A form of this had been done for centuries for domestic animals. Now, it became critical for wild animals, too.

Insects faired better, perhaps because of the explosion of plant growth and warmth. At least the deer flies couldn’t stand the heat, and moved further north—they thrived at the edge of the glacial zone.

In the beginning, the two milking goats were pressed to keep up with the demand from three hungry little mouths. There was no goat cheese that summer. Gradually, as little Seali and Seti started eating solid food, sleeping through the night, crawling, then talking and walking, their research routine returned from round-theclock baby tending.

On hot summer days, Albert would take Dom on rounds packed on his back. Sometimes he’d let him down where he would quickly get into trouble. Dom loved the animals and his baby brother and sister.

The women would catch the breeze on the shaded porch; sometimes going down to the lake to cool off. In spite of skin cancer treatments and a melanoma surgery and immunization, Anne loved working on her “all over” tan. She’d set up a chaise lounge by the lake and put the babies on a blanket beside her, making sure they were shaded by a portable awning. She covered herself with sunscreens and insect repellant. When Ping joined her, Ping made sure she was wearing her fauxsilk sun cover—a synthetic, see-through fabric that breathed well and blocked harmful rays. She was experimenting with a pill that made her repellant to insects. It seemed to work for her. Alice leaned toward Anne’s approach, but got under the awning or a sun cover if she started to burn.

Anne often took the babies swimming with her. They loved the cool water and took to it like fish. Most days, before supper, Albert would join them, go for a swim, and give Dom paddling lessons. They stayed nude most of the time because in the heat it was more comfortable. They would hear from the eCom and sensors if someone was coming, and then they’d dress in light clothing to meet them. They didn’t bother to for Auntie Alice on her infrequent visits. If it was hot, she sometimes would arrive in her light hiking boots, her clothes in her backpack

There were frequent, violent storms, with wind, hail, lightning, and torrential rain. Fortunately, they didn’t last long and would cool things off. Fall was short, but filled with brilliant color and activity as nature braced for another hard winter. Ping knitted sweaters for fall and winter. Jeans were another staple for fall and winter. The kids all had Artic parkas that were so warm they rarely had to wear anything underneath. Clothing was merely practical. They didn’t have to impress anyone with the way they dressed. They dressed for infrequent shopping trips to town

So they grew up wild and naked. And they got into things chasing butterflies, frogs and snakes, exploring the woods, and trying not to mess up Daddy and Mommy Ping’s experiments too much. Dominic, being the oldest, was always the leader, the instigator. His brother and sister were close behind. They became intimately familiar with their surroundings and never got lost. As they got older, they ventured further, but they knew not to swim alone, get between a bear and her cubs, approach a moose, or tempt a snapping turtle. They got scrapes and bruises, occasional rashes from forbidden plants, but suffered no insect bites, thanks to Ping’s pill. “We must smell bad to them!” was Seala’s educated guess to Seti’s perpetual, “Why?”

They didn’t know how well their life really was. The wilderness taught them an understanding and respect for nature. The eCom and holos answered their questions and taught them about the outside world. Their parents were highly educated and with them all the time. They were nurtured, protected, and loved, unlike so many of the world’s poor, starving masses, struggling each day just to live. Or the rich, protected and isolated—often fearful that what they had would be taken away.

When Dom was four, the inevitable question came. “Mommy, how come Seali and Seti are so dark? They look like Africans to me. How come they are in our family?”

“Because you are all clones. You didn’t come from Albert and me; you came from a man that lived 5,000 years ago. You are the same as him.”

“If I’m a clown, how come their clowns didn’t come from that same old man?”

“Clones, Honey, not clowns. Because we wanted them to be different—like you! Don’t you just love them because they are different?”

“I like Seali. The holo says we should love everyone, even Africans cuz they’re so poor. I’m not too sure about Seti, though … cuz … sometimes he’s mean and bites. Otherwise, I like him, too?”

Albert and Anne saw no benefit in keeping secrets about their origin and purpose from the children. The sooner they knew, the better. Otherwise, when they reached their teens and those hormones started flowing, they might lose the bonds they were creating. It was too easy for kids to get information from eCom. Hiding it would only cause problems.

By the time Dom was five, he knew what a clone was. He also knew that he was immortal, although he had a hard time understanding that. It was time, Albert thought, for him to get his implants. For that, they would have to take a trip.

People had been getting implants since the last half of the 20th century. Initially, implants were medical. They were problematic and often rejected or malfunctioned. Eventually, by the turn of the century, they became more functional and cosmetic. People elected to have implants to improve their eyesight, hearing, or organ function. Pioneering implants corrected many kinds of disability, from heart disease to diabetes.

Soon, functional implants came to the fore. They were primarily for communication, sensory, or memory enhancement. They used very small, very powerful, gallium arsenide computers to provide function enhancement. They became an important part of eCom. Rich people tried each new one like they were the latest fad. Middle class people waited until insurance would help pay for them. The poor never got them unless they were in one of the few countries that still had socialized medicine. Anne an Albert did not have them. Ping had experimental ones provided by Biotech. Like so many emerging technologies before them, the first implants were almost more trouble than they were worth. Ping’s were an exception. That’s why Albert wanted Dominic to have them.

The Johns Hopkins Biotechnology Center had developed a living tissue computer that could connect to digital integrated circuits and their associated devices. Another breakthrough was finding the neural centers of the brain that controlled thought processes. When these centers were properly connected through living tissue computers, a human could operate devices with thoughts. In Ping’s case, she was always connected to eCom. She could turn it on and off just by thinking to do it. She could hear what was coming in directly in her cochlea, and view it by a projection against her visual cortex. A small microphone in each ear and micro cameras in each eye enabled her to send, via eCom, everything she was seeing or hearing. Plasma memory in eCom stored and backed-up everything. At any time she wanted, she had perfect recall. Unfortunately, her perfect memory only went back a year—from the time she was implanted.

They were gone a month in the spring of his sixth year. They took the Dirigible Muskegam from Marquette. It was Dom’s big adventure. He already knew the world very well from eCom, but being able to see, smell, and feel it, close up, was a wonderful new experience. The Muskegam flew low and slow, giving a good view of the plenty and plight that affected this part of Canada and the United States. Albert told him about driving through those places. It could still be done, but it was very expensive and difficult. Dom vowed to himself that he would do that one day.

When they arrived at Biotech, it had grown. Johns Hopkins had leased another 20,000 acres and had set up several satellite centers for different projects. The focus in computing had shifted from silicon-gallium integrated circuits to neural networks mimicking the brain. Unlike the Silicon-Gallium Valley and New England and Texas technical corridors, there was a marked absence of sprawling, expensive real estate. There were a few hundred researchers, but they all lived on site. Everything was low key except the traffic through the secret portal. Dom wanted to see it. Instead, they took a gyrocopter directly to the lodge. Air space was open to them.

Woolly and Dima, respectively six and four years of age, had been shipped off to a high prairie wilderness reserve near the North Dakota, Manitoba line. They were thriving midst a herd of buffaloes and had become the object of an intense dirigible tourist trade. Flyovers were limited, and ground contact was prohibited. Albert promised Dom that they would visit them on their trip to the ranch in the fall.

A herd of ten little hairy tuskers greeted them. Five were destined to join Woolly and Dima. Five would go to Siberia. Siberia had been very cooperative. Each little tusker had been cloned from a different donor. Two of them were Mastodons. Dom had a great time petting and feeding them. Two of them were nursing. Dom got to hold the bottle. They sure were strong.

The fun was over. Dom was put to sleep during eight hours of microsurgery to place his implants. He was given a memory supplement that retained ten times the capacity of his brain. Even if he was ever disconnected from eCom, he would carry this memory with him in his sinus cavity. The unit was easy to access and upgrade. Recovery was short and painless. It took three weeks of intensive training for him to master the mental operation of his implants. He practiced, first on a set of structured exercises, and then, on sending and receiving holos to Seala and Seti, research on the Iceman, Indians, and cloning. When all of his implants were working well, they left the Center and toured Washington, DC.

The nation’s Capital was protected by a levee, the Potomac had been rerouted around, and the remaining riverbed made into a lake. It was a temporary solution. Current thought was that the government buildings should be rebuilt near Mount Vernon. Some favored moving the Capitol Building and monuments. Others argued that they were obsolete and would emerge from the sea again anyway in the 22nd Century. It was decided by cost. Some things were just too expensive to save.

They took the electric elevated train to New York. Baltimore and Philadelphia were suffering the same fate as DC. Manhattan Island had converted to a more efficient, rooftop infrastructure. Sun-facing windows had been converted to translucent solar panels instead of glass. The subway and streets were abandoned in favor of a Venice-style labyrinth of waterways and high, overhead walkways and electric trams. No new buildings had been built in the 21st Century, so it retained a quaint, historic, look, as they viewed it leaving on Chicago for Chicago.

The trip showed that attempts to reforest portions of Ohio near Lake Erie were succeeding. Eastern wood bison were being reintroduced and Cleveland was one of few cities making a comeback. Chicago sprawled much further than Albert remembered. It was suffering from people fleeing the north and south. Much of the city was abandoned. It was difficult to maintain city services and order. Walled suburbs sprung up under old ethnic lines.

Milwaukee appeared to be much better off than Chicago. Still, there was a weather-threatened techno-corridor all the way the Madison. Albert was glad to return to Marquette and the wilderness. Dom was amazed by his journey. He had retained it all.

In mid August, Ping stayed on to watch the experiments with Albert’s brother, while the whole family toured the West and visited the ranch. This time, they left from Eau Claire on the Omaha. On the way to Denver, Albert was pleased to see vast areas no longer farmed or overgrazed. The kids were bored until the pilot brought them within a hundred feet above a huge buffalo herd. Denver had grown from Cheyenne to Colorado Springs. It didn’t look too bad from the air, but the size of it was scary. Suburbs skirted the Rockies to the south and floated over timeless canyons and mountain ranges to the FunPlex in Vegas. There were so many unproductive settlers taking land from wildlife. It was disturbing.

They spent three days taking in attractions for kids. Dominic really enjoyed Return to Egypt with its full size replicas of many of the Egyptian sights, including the Sphinx and Great Pyramids of Giza. He was intrigued by the mystery of the mummies and the theories that all of this was the work of extraterrestrials. Albert was disgusted by all the psuedoscience and fakery designed to get people to spend their money. Anne was amused at his disgust. Seti and Seala just wanted to play all the games and crawl through the Tunnels of Doom—creepy mummies, scarabs, scorpions, snakes and all.

Anne had business with her family, so they boarded Fresno for Los Angeles. The pristine bluegreeness of Lake Powell contrasted with the ugly Vegas valley and its fake pyramids. None of that water reached California or Mexico. Crossing the mountains into California, it was easy to see what it had become. Except for an embattled area around San Diego, Chinese and Mexican interests ruled Southern California. Film-making had fled to San Francisco and Seattle. Drug lords, smugglers, and sleazy business operatives occupied the mansions in the Hollywood hills. Cooking fires burned in places across the garbage strewn environment. Here was where most of the illegals entered the country. Their plight, with water so scarce, was dire. They were not welcome.

The meeting with Anne’s relatives in Santa Barbara was unsettling. While they still lived in luxury, they had lost their holdings in the south. There was a lot of paperwork to sign as they dissolved the Compton Foundation. Anne did not protest. It was every man/woman for him/herself. Albert was pleased to leave.

They took a small National Park tour ship to Yosemite, Tahoe, Salt Lake City, and Yellowstone. The mountains were timeless, unmoved by the hand of man. Still, Albert was surprised at what lengths people had gone to escape the scourge to the south. At least Yosemite Valley didn’t have houses hanging all over its cliffs and slopes. The valley surrounding Salt Lake resembled Denver with a strip of city running north to south. It was good to get back to Yellowstone and float over Old Faithful as she erupted once again—oblivious to the Western water shortage. The sight of Mammoth Springs had them reminiscing, “This is where Mommy met Daddy.”

Seti responded, “Are those horsies … you told me there’d be horsies!” Only Dom understood. He tried to explain that the big animals at the Springs were wapiti, but Seti insisted that were, “horsies.”

George picked them up at Billings with the truck he used for hauling horses and buffalo. The kids were amazed. It was the first time they had seen an Indian or ridden in a truck. With all the Indians and trucks in the UP, Albert thought maybe he’d sheltered them too much.

They spent two weeks at the ranch. Dominic learned to ride quite well. With the other two on backpacks, they took to the trails daily. The hot tub was welcome after a long day on the range. Anne’s master bedroom had acquired a distinctly George character. For their stay, he returned to the bunkhouse. Anne joined the hands there for poker in the evening.

They took the train to Minneapolis. They were stopped by herds of buffalo twice. Taking an air tour from Minot, Dom got to see Woolly and Nima. “See them!” He exclaimed, “I got to feed them at the Center!” His brother and sister didn’t appreciate the importance of his statement. They were viewing from a distance and didn’t know what touching a wiggling trunk was like.

They arrived home just before winter set in. Ping was very glad to see them. Albert asked Dom to download his experiences on the trips so that his brother and sister could upload them later. Dom opened a file on eCom for the information, and then downloaded a copy in five minutes.

Dominic was much like his father and donor. He liked to hunt; preferring to use his bow and arrows rather than a gun. With his implants, he never lost an arrow. The arrows had sensors, but he rarely had to use them. The exception was the deer he shot when he was seven. The deer was only wounded and traveled nearly a mile before he found it and ended its misery. Without the sensor, he wouldn’t have found it.

He used his father’s stock of leather to fashion Indian clothing for himself. He made moccasins for his feet, leggings to protect him in brush, a loincloth, and jacket. He preferred wearing his Indian garb while hunting. In winter, he returned to high tech parkas, boots, and snowshoes. He wondered how the Indians had kept warm with only hides, furs and wood fires. He loved science and math, and started taking an active role in the experiments. His travels had broadened him. He was becoming a man of the world.

Seala was a contradiction. While she hung with Dom like a tomboy, she also had very feminine side. When she wasn’t collecting snakes, she worked on cute clothes with Ping. She gave fashion shows on cold winter evenings and came up with costumes for plays. Her brothers reluctantly joined her in the plays. She made so many clothes that when she outgrew them, they were taken to the Salvation Army with Daddy’s food. She loved going shopping with Ping or Anne to Marquette. She was the little diplomat, constantly settling arguments between Dom and Seti. She loved to entertain guests while her brothers hid. She started studying black culture as soon as she realized her origin.

Seti couldn’t compete with the talents of his brother and sister. He hid under the protection of Seala and kept to himself with holo games. After the trip to Vegas, he developed an interest in Egypt. More and more, as he grew older, he sought attention by acting out. He developed a fascination with fire, so Albert had him feed the wood stove and accompany him on controlled brush burning. Seala was constantly stopping him from poking the animals with sharp sticks or other torture. “I just wanted to see how well that goat could walk with two legs tied together,” he’d lament. He always seemed to have a reason for his actions toward animals.

When the younger ones turned six, it was time for their implants too. Ping stayed back to tend the experiments while the whole family flew to the Biotech Center. The ten tuskers Dom had seen were gone, but five new ones had taken their place. There were now two saber-tooth tigers, two giant tapirs, ten three-toed horses, and a host of other ice age animals. The thought was that these animals were better adapted to the near ice age climate.

Dominic was excited being one of the first to see and touch these exotic creatures. Seti liked the horses, but found the mammoths a bit daunting. Seala showed him how docile they were by riding around on one.

While his younger siblings got improved implants like Dom’s, he got upgrades, including a hundredfold increase in his auxiliary memory. His brother and sister automatically received the two years of memory he had already acquired.

The implants enabled the three of them to share vast amounts of information. Their studies took on a whole new light. Dom’s interests were voracious. He was interested in the origins of things. Where we had were come from and where were we going. Albert saw him becoming an astrophysicist.

Seala was interested in culture and the arts. She loved the great novels and political struggles. She played several instruments, sang and danced. Albert saw her becoming a diplomat like Anne.

Seti used his new abilities to explore the growing fringe elements and cults. He loved Zen, astrology, fantasy, witchcraft, Hinduism, and, most of all, the Sons of Ra, an all-male cult based on the Egyptian worship of the Sun God, Ra. Albert only hoped that he would become a philosopher.

Seti showed something else, too. Increasingly, he showed a side that was violent and cruel. Dom wouldn’t let him be cruel to his sister, so he often took his cruelty to poor, defenseless animals. Dom and Albert found shrines in the forest, with incense and animal parts. He would stay up all night on eCom, communicating with members of cults. Albert tried to block his access to these sites, but he always got around them.

Finally, in his thirteenth spring, his violence came to a head. About a mile from the cabin, Albert found his Alpha wolf, Grey, dead. Grey had apparently been shot with one of the stun darts Albert used in his work. He had been skinned alive and his claws and teeth pulled out. Seti had left distinctive boot tracks. Dom helped Albert find the bloody stash of teeth and claws in a false timber in the barn. When confronted, Seti admitted killing the wolf. “I got sick and tired of his incessant howling, interrupting my chants, so I dropped him.”

Albert suspected what was wrong, but called Dr. Khundi to be sure.

Rao was shaken when he heard. “We suspected it. All the signs were there in those checkups. We just thought he’d grow out of it. I suspect that it’s a hormone imbalance. We corrected the 47XYY syndrome. That explains it. Seti II was so bad because of his hormones, not the syndrome! I’ll send the Ishpeming team in there to help you get him out here. I’ll ask my experts at the hospital to help out. We’ve been doing some basic brain receptor work that just might help him. Worth a try?”

“Worth a try.” Albert was already planning the trip.

Anne and Albert left with Seti and the team the next morning. Ping, Dominic, and Seala agreed to tend the experiments and get the garden and crops started. No one knew how long they’d be gone.

Albert had plowed the five-acre tract in the fall. Now, the snow had disappeared and it was time for planting. Dom cranked up the old propane tractor and dragged the muddy ground. In two days it was dry enough to plant. Dom used an old drill to plant buckwheat, oats, and corn. Ping and Seala worked on the half-acre set aside for vegetables.

On the third day, Ping determined that they were short a few things and decided to go to Marquette to get them. She planned to walk to the All Wheel, drive it to Marquette, buy the supplies, and then return. It would take her all day. “Are you two sure you’ll be okay here alone? I won’t be back until late?”

“Yes, Mommy Ping. It’s okay. We’ve still got a lot of work to do. We wouldn’t be any help to you and we can do a lot here.” Seala spoke with conviction.

“Always the diplomat.” Dom thought. He was looking forward to being responsible for the place. After all, he was fifteen.

Ping took a big backpack of food and set out for Marquette early in the morning. Dom and Seala were in the garden planting, soon after. They worked hard and fast. It was becoming the hottest day of the year. By noon, they were hot, sweaty, and hungry. They had used up all the seeds and fertilizer. They would need what Ping was getting to finish. Laughing and happy to be through, they ran for the cabin to get their lunch.

“Hey, why don’t we have a picnic by the lake? I want to take a swim and cool off before we eat. Whatta ya say?” Dom hadn’t been swimming yet this year.

“I don’t know. It might still be too cold.” Seala was cautious.

“Aw com’n. I want to practice a few of those strokes I perfected last year. You know I can’t go in without you?”

They packed a basket with the lunch Ping left them and Seala grabbed a blanket while Dom ran down to the lake with their lunch. He was out of his clothes by the time she got there.

“Last one in is a loser!” He had to be the first one in. He ran down the grassy trail, feeling the warm grass under his feet, out onto the aluminum dock fifteen feet long, and dove, head first, into the deep blue water he knew was there. He was greeted with a shock! The water was so cold that his muscles tightened up and he imagined himself freezing under water in the Artic Sea. He thrust forward hard, and found that he could still move his cramped legs.

When he came up, treading water, Seala was slipping herself gently in off the deep end of the dock, directly in front of him. Regaining his strength, he dove forward, under water, and swam toward her with his eyes open. When her hips appeared directly in front of him, he reached around her thighs, and tackled her. With his cheek against her stomach, he pulled her under. She turned and struggled to get free. She was strong and smooth. He felt her pubic hair brush his ear as she struggled free. His head slid between her legs and his hands ran along her legs as she pulled away.

He was through playing. It was too cold. He swam for the dock and pulled himself up. Seala was swimming further out. Keeping an eye on her over his shoulder, he headed back to the blanket. Remembering that he didn’t have a towel, he shook off the cold water as best he could, spread out the blanket on the slope, and sat down. Seala was still swimming. He laid down flat, shivering, to get the full benefit of the sun, keeping his eye on Seala out in the lake.

After ten minutes, the sun had dried the water and warmed him up. He could see Seala swimming in. He couldn’t believe she could stay out so long. She came in alongside the dock and stood up when she could touch bottom. As she walked in and came up out of the water, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. She had changed. The bright sun shone off her dark, wet skin and revealed the beauty she was becoming. She seemed taller than she was, with straight shoulders. He hadn’t noticed her breasts before. They were small, but beautifully proportioned. And she had hips, with pubic hair growing in a neat triangle. His pubic hair was still sparse, and very blonde. He felt himself stirring.

Seala was smiling broadly and walking quickly toward him. “Hey, you chicken! Why didn’t you stay out there with me? Oh, I know what it was; you wanted to get up here where it is warm to pull your bone!”

Dom had never heard his sister talk like that. He rolled over on his side to hide his erection. When he looked up, she was straddling him, her hands on her hips, water dripping off her pubic hair right on him. Even in the bright sun, he could see water droplets shining everywhere on her skin, all goose bumps, and the sharp points of her breasts looming directly above.

She knelt down, trying to turn him over. She got hold of his penis and started to pull on it. “Com’n show me how you masturbate!” She started to pump him up and down as he relinquished and slowly turned back toward her.

Dom reached out and grabbed the hand. He knew now what she wanted. He couldn’t help but show her. It was easy. He’d been masturbating for three years. He started when he bypassed the block to sexual material Biotech had put on his implant. Looking up at Seali was better than the countless girls he’d fantasized about on eCom. He came in two minutes.

Seala squealed and rubbed her hand in it on his belly. Then she rubbed it on her belly. She knelt in front of him and began rubbing herself with both hands. “I can do that too!” She squealed, and, rubbing furiously, threw back her head and closed her eyes. As Dom watched her breasts heave, her nipples rigid, she began to moan until she collapsed forward onto him. Her skin was now hot. He was erect again, so he started stroking again while she rubbed gently. He exploded like he never had before, hitting himself in the face. She lay down beside him, hot and panting, and rubbed the mess on his chest again.

They lay there for some time, relaxing, until the sun had completely dried his sperm and it pulled tight on his skin. Brushing it off in white flakes with her hand, Seala came up on her elbow and said. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Dominic. We are clones. We are immortal. I think we are meant for each other.” She kissed him gently on the lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see it. I was so excited by all those girls on eCom. You were my little sister. Suddenly you’ve become something else. I can hardly believe it! How did you …?”

“I got past the block when I was eight. I was shocked at first, then, gradually, I began to like it. Those girls taught me. Lately, I just felt I had to show you.”

“Well, you sure showed me.” He returned her kiss. “We’d better not tell anyone about it. They may have plans for us, okay?”

“Oh, I might tell Ping!” She smiled a wicked smile. “Hey, I’m hungry!” She sat up and reached for the basket.

At the Biotech Center a small group of technicians and researchers gathered around two holos. “Wow! Look at that! Some guys have all the luck! But should they be doing that?” A young man in a lab coat was expressing his emotion.

“It was expected. Don’t you remember how it was for you, or were you just too sheltered. They are clones. They are immortal. They cannot reproduce. Let them have their fun.” Dr. Margaret Keeley-Jones spoke with the authority that came with her experience, second only to Khundi’s.

Just then, Rao Khundi stepped in the room and joined them. He stopped and took a long look at his two creations. “Should we tell Dr. Repaul about this?” Maggie asked.

“No. Let’s just let things take their normal course. It’s good that these two love each other. We have to remember that they are not like us.” Rao was being philosophical. What else could he be?

Not knowing that they were being watched, Dom and Seala ran naked all afternoon long, practicing their kissing. Like the girls on eCom, Dom had Seala pose and perform songs and dances for him. His cameras and microphones got it all—a memory for a lifetime.

When Ping arrived that night, they were dressed and had supper waiting. She was proud that they had finished their work and did such a good job watching the place. In the morning there was a lot more work to do.

Chapter 11

Branching Out

The New Wilderness: Early Summer 2031

Dr Khundi was right. After mapping Seti’s brain, they determined that, in spite of the perfection of his DNA, he wasn’t wired right. Nanosurgery tools were introduced to his spinal fluid and guided to their operative sites in the brain. The surgery corrected the problem, and his hormonal balance was immediately restored.

Seti’s behavior changed overnight. Instead of being a hostile loner, he became very cooperative and empathetic. When they took him to the baby Mammoths the day after his operation, the creatures flocked around him like a nursing mother. He had that affect on birds and other animals, too. He, uncharacteristically, enjoyed the trip home, engaging Albert and Anne in lively conversation about what he was seeing in a whole new way.

Dominic and Seala greeted them with proud smiles. The gardens were in and growing. Sprouts were already peeking through. After hugs, everyone started talking at once. Finally, after everyone was through, Seti spoke: “Sealy and Dom, I apologize for being so mean. I don’t know what it was, but something made me upset and angry all the time. Now that I feel better, it’s hard to understand why I felt like that. Am I forgiven?”

Seala rushed to hug him. “Oh Seti, you’re my brother and you’re forgiven.” Ping hugged them both.

“Forgiven.” Dom extended an Indian handshake. Seti took it with a big smile.

Albert was indeed pleased with the way the place looked. With all these good hands, the little farm could produce more for a needy world. They would work hard all day on various projects. Then, in the evening, they’d swim and enjoy a good meal before study and bed. Seti enjoyed hanging around now, so it was hard for Dom and Seala to sneak off together. They still ended up nude for a swim with the whole family those hot evenings. Seala made it hard on Dom by flirting when no one was looking. Sometimes, he’d have to leave, embarrassed.

“Dom. Where are you going?” Anne would inquire.

“Oh, nowhere, Mom. Just have to check my traps.”

Seala would grin and giggle silently, and then she’d sneak off too, if she could.

Every two weeks or so, Albert and Dom took what they had gathered and made to town. It was a time to talk.

“Dom, have you thought about college? I’ve been thinking that, while you’re a big help here, good at your studies, and have all the time in the world, it would be good for you to attend college away from home like I did.” Albert threw it out casually as they walked.

“I’ve been thinking about it too. I’ve already mastered some college courses offered by Michigan State. They’re not very hard. I am worried though, that I might get caught up in campus life and neglect my studies. I’d like to go to Cornell, like you, Dad.” Dominic had been thinking about it.

“It isn’t like when I went there. With all the curricula available on eCom, most students get their degrees without ever attending. You’d be in an enclave, a bit isolated from the real world; but then, you are here, too. I think you might be too young, yet. Why don’t you take the SAT and see how you do?”

“Okay, Dad. I’ll take it this evening when we stay at the Ishpeming house.”

“That’s incredible,” Albert thought. “I start a conversation about college and already he’s got it nailed down where he’s going to go and when he’s going to take the SAT!”

“Great idea, Son. Fewer distractions than at home.”

Dominic took the SAT after they had enjoyed the special at Martha’s. That heavy food could put you to sleep, but it energized him for the task. By morning, they had the results. Dom got 797 on the numeric and 785 on the verbal. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to get him into almost any school he wanted. Perfect scores were rare and suspect since the Higher Education Reform Act of 2004. The SAT was strengthened, and made only available on the Internet. All programs claiming to teach the test or prepare for it were shut down. And, even more important, strict accreditation requirements immediately shut down the diploma mills that offered degrees for money.

The World Registry, created by the United Nations in 2006, combined all copyright, trademark, and credentialing. Encrypted official transcripts were posted. There were problems in China, the Moslem countries, and a few other places where so many people had the same names, but a World Registry Number, similar to the Social Security Number with four more digits, tied to retinal and voice scanners, was introduced. Identity theft and fraud was severely punished. Cheap, ubiquitous voice and retinal scanners soon made this type of fraud nearly impossible.

When they brought the news home, Seala was disappointed. “Dom can’t go to college! We need him here. Who will do the heavy work?”

“You will!” Dom smirked, winking at her.

“Don’t worry. I know I’m getting to be an old goat, but with all these revived organs and supplements, I feel fine. We’ll manage just like we did before you came.” Albert explained. “Young Lady, you will be going to college soon, too.”

“And me?” Seti, always last, didn’t want to be left out.

“You, too, Seti. I expect great things from each of you. After all, you have forever to get it right.” He chuckled at his lame attempt at humor.

It was settled. They all knew that they were going to college. They hadn’t begun to think what they would do with it. They had a lot of time—more than they could fathom. They didn’t waste it.

On August 23, 2032, Dominic Repaul arrived in Ithaca with a single duffel of all his possessions to begin freshman orientation at Cornell. He soon learned that some of his classmates were as young as fourteen, and that he could hold his own in Soccer and Cross Country with the eighteen year olds. But it was in class where he really shined. His teachers loved the way this tall, skinny student with peach fuzz on his face took to complex math and science problems with relaxed ease. Others had implants, but none used them with the skill Dom possessed.

By the end of the fall term, he was at the head of his class. The winter snows had set in, so he and many others celebrated Christmas and New Year on campus. He missed home and Seala, but enjoyed himself too. After the wild parties during the holidays, he settled back into the winter term. On June 21, he boarded the Utica for home. It became a familiar routine for two more years.

When she saw Dom’s success, Seala set her sights high. With SATs nearly as high as he, she chose George Mason in the fall of 2034. On August 16, she and Dom set out together. They had some intimate moments before their dirigible, Toronto, docked in Buffalo. Dom took the train to Ithaca, while Seala boarded Scranton for Dulles. GMU had a van picking up students at Dulles, so Seala had made friends and found a roommate before they arrived. Thuy Tuam was a Vietnamese-American from Manhattan. Her father had made a fortune in water cabs and his floating market. There was a strange magnetism neither could explain.

Both girls found themselves in almost every class together. In their dorm room, there were many discussions of men, underwear, hair, skin, likes, dislikes, and the like. They went to every event, planned and unplanned, that they could fit into their busy schedules. Both beautiful in their own way, they attracted the attention of their male classmates wherever they went. Most dates were double dates. After a date, the girls couldn’t wait to jump into their nighties and discuss the merits of each guy before closing their eyes. After short periods apart, they greeted with hugs and kisses. It wasn’t long before they were kissing goodnight. Sleeping together naturally followed.

Seala kept Dominic fully informed of all this. He had been dating whenever his busy schedule allowed, but he was basically alone with his schoolwork. In spite of all the technology, study was still a lonely prospect. He looked younger than his age. While coeds appreciated his intellect, they tended to prefer men who looked more mature. Looking at him, they never surmised his maturity and experience. Seala’s holos were not only encouraged, they were very erotic. He found himself fantasizing about this Asian beauty, Thuy. It wasn’t until they spent Christmas in Saint Thomas, The Virgin Islands—Thuy’s Daddy footed the bill—that he got to meet her.

They met at Dulles. “Dom, this is Thuy. What do you think? Isn’t she everything I said?” Seala had just given him a bear hug and French kiss.

“Well… Hi … Thuy. Ah, well… what do you want me to say?” Seala already knew what was on his mind.

“Tell her that she’s a Fox and that you’re so happy to see her!”

Dominic stretched out his arms to Thuy and she melted into his hug. “Whoa!” He thought to himself, “This is going to be fun.” Seala picked up every bit of it and smiled broadly.

“Okay, you’re a Fox, girl. Any more orders, Seali?”

With that beginning and a girl on each arm, Dom headed for the docked St. Johns, and their cruise to the islands.

When they arrived at the private beach house overlooking a crescent of blue green bay, edged with white sand and steep green mountain slopes, Thuy immediately began treating him like Seala. It was both amazing and wondrous to see her come out of the shower, drying off with a towel, to try on beachwear. When they got to the beach, they found that clothing was optional. The primary problem they all had was getting sunburn on their tender parts. At least Dom and Seala had something left of their summer tan. They cured the problem with ample sunscreen and covering up when they needed to. Porters offered umbrellas that were gratefully accepted.

The other problem was men. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry was staring, and, when the opportunity arose, offered to join them. Seala was well schooled in the, “Beat it, I’m gay,” approach. But Thuy seemed to like the attention. The black resort employees, used to dealing with willing single women, were a bit shocked at their sister’s rebuffs. Dom was amused by it all. He was sure those guys were jealous of him, a puny teenager, with two foxes. He was a million miles from his schoolwork—that was the point.

The first night they joined the crowd at the resort’s hotel, where the party lasted until dawn. They dressed casually with sandals. Dom had never seen Seala look so stunning, like a super model, in the things Thuy threw together for her. Contrary to her attitude on the beach, Seala eagerly danced with every guy who asked. There was something very sensual about the way she moved to the native rhythms from the reggae band. He could see Thuy squirming as she watched, her black eyes as bright as diamonds. Dom could feel it too—the hypnotic spell of the music.

Sometime around 3am, when they returned to the beach house, the girls were quick to slip out of their clothes. Dom kicked off his sandals and pulled off his shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed while he watched the girls brush their teeth in the mirror. Seala came back, grinning, and began unbuttoning his shorts. He found himself engaged in familiar sex with her, while diamond eyes watched, first, from the mirror, and then, kneeling over them, from the bed. Thuy wanted to do whatever Seala did. It was extremely erotic for Dom, and he was up to it. So he let her.

After a few carefree days on the beach, in the town, and out on boats, balloons, fishing, and skin diving, their vacation was over and they returned to the reality of the northern winter and schoolwork. Dom kissed them both goodbye at Dulles. But, they were not forgotten. He often thought of those few carefree days in the sun and replayed them in his mind, until Seala showed up at the UP that next summer with Thuy in tow.

Seti headed the other direction. His SATs indicated an aptitude for interdisciplinary studies. Anne urged him to attend UC, Santa Cruz—so he did. After some counseling, he began studying for a dual degree in philosophy and religious thought. Whether it was his dark good looks, his way with language, or his strange ideas—he didn’t know— but he found himself extremely popular among his teachers and classmates. He stayed like a hermit by himself in the dorm, but friends invited him to so many places that he rarely found himself back there after the first term. Befriending the wealthy sons and daughters of movie stars and CEOs, he stayed on through the summer and didn’t return to the UP.

When the girls arrived at New Wilderness, Dom was surprised, but tried not to show it. He hugged them both in a brotherly fashion, and then made himself scarce looking at experiments and traps in the woods all day while Seala showed Thuy around. He arrived too late for the evening swim, just before dinner.

At dinner, Dom politely listened while Seala talked of her first year at George Mason and Thuy talked of Manhattan and her father’s exploits. After dinner, Anne asked Dom to help her with dishes. As they watched the girls fishing off the dock, Anne spoke first.

“They are more than good friends.” Anne added to her expression by shaking a soapy spoon in their direction.

“What do you mean, Mom?” Dom played dumb.

“I have an eye for that sort of thing. Dabbled a bit in it myself. Speaking of dabbling. Do you miss your sister?”

“What do you mean, Mom?” He was trying to play dumber.

“It’s okay, Albert and I have known for some time. Do you think you two could sneak off all those times and not be noticed? If I were you, I’d enjoy it while it lasts. The way this world keeps changing, nothing is forever—except you. Thuy isn’t immortal like you two. Give her all the pleasure you can while she’s with you. Speaking of that, Momma Ping’s due in next week. I hope you can include her in your little tryst. She’s been quiet, but she’s a bit tired of old coots like your father and me.”

Dom nodded and kept looking at the girls out the window. He was too stunned to respond.

Dominic A. Repaul graduated magna cum laude and first in his class at the end of the fall term, 2035. He was nineteen. Dr Khundi said that it proved that modern medicine and social practices had reduced overall human intelligence from what it had been in Neolithic times. It didn’t hurt that Dom’s genetic code had been perfected, either. Their genetic flaws limited so many intelligent people. No one knew how the Iceman, unaltered and without implants, would have faired. Forty years of analysis of his remains had shown him to be very skilled and resourceful for his time. Dom did inherit that.

Winter graduations had been eliminated to save energy and allow parents to attend when the weather was better. To celebrate, Dom joined Seala and Thuy in Tobago through the New Year. When he returned, he began a fast track doctorate in Space Science in the winter term.

On May 26, 2036, the whole family came together in Ithaca for Dom’s formal graduation. Seti came from California. Alice came from a Johns Hopkins project at the International Space Station. Jeremy and Cherry had planned their vacation so that they could come from Costa Rica. Gladys met them at Dulles. The keynote speaker was Dr. Maxine Greene, a Cornell Space Science graduate and commander of the 23rd Mission to Mars. Dr. Greene outlined, from her firsthand experience, the success of the Martian effort. Settlement had been established. Plants had been propagated, grown, and harvested in Martian soil. Baby animals and humans had been born on the surface. Reduced gravity had caused health issues that were being addressed. The point of full sustainability was unknown, perhaps fifteen to twenty years off. She closed by asking the audience to remember:

“Lest we forget. Let me close by remembering those brave souls who sacrificed their lives in that ill-fated first mission. And, to the many who have lost their lives since. Progress is never without cost. Still, it is sad that we lose the best and brightest when they are vitally needed to carry us forward beyond the malaise of Earth. Never forget them. They were the shoulders we stand on.”

After a moment of silence and a military flyover, Dr. Greene received a standing ovation.

Dom, by nature of his scholastic position, was obligated to speak for the Class of 2036, even though he graduated in ‘35 and was a member of the 2033-37 class. His scientific studies had not prepared him for this. A few notes projected on his visual cortex helped him get beyond his awkward beginning. He talked not of saving the poor, starving of Earth, but of the need for sustainability of humans in space. He spoke of the stages of sustainability: laboratories on Earth, settlements on Mars, Moonscape, the moons of Jupiter, near space orbit, solar orbit, and finally, deep space. He ended by stating that solar orbit sustainability would be achieved within the century.

He received a startling ovation he didn’t expect. As he returned to his seat amid the cheers of his classmates, he could see his family frantically waving in the distance. One of his professors reached out and shook his hand firmly. “Good speech, young man! We’ll never see sustainability in our lifetime, though—you shouldn’t get hopes up.” The arrogant old man didn’t know that the fuzz-faced kid he was talking to was immortal and smarter than he.

Albert had a special graduation gift for Dominic. He had rented a 1995 red Miata roadster that had been converted to a hybrid for a summer-long tour of the country. After bidding the family goodbye, they left the next morning.

They traveled light. A change of clothes. Rain gear. A pup tent and Coleman stove. Light sleeping bags. Some dried and some radiated food. And, most important— Anne’s good credit. Gasoline was $34 per gallon in Ithaca, higher in many places, lower in some. The Miata got 105 miles per gallon, so they traveled a thousand miles on each $350 fill up.

After winding all day through the Adirondacks, they spent the first night in the Green Mountains. It was rainy and cold, so it was hard to get up and leave the next morning. By the time they reached Maine, the sun peeked out, and they took the top down.

New England remained as Albert pictured it. Although the family farm was all but gone, farm buildings and animals of hobbyists remained. In between, settlers and retirees had sandwiched their carefully planned and screened edifices. It all looked too ordered, crowded. Except for the protected mountain areas they’d left behind, this area would be one of the last to return to wilderness, Albert thought out loud to Dom, who was enjoying his job of driving the car. That night, having seafood in a restaurant overlooking the rugged coast, Albert knew they were going to enjoy themselves. Unfortunately, the lobster they ate came from an Australian farm. There was local fish to eat, but it was unappetizing.

They skirted wide the great seaboard cities. They had seen them from the air, and wished to avoid the congestion and penalties for driving a car in the myriad public transport lanes of suburban freeways. The old state and federal highways were in good order and lightly traveled, mostly by freight haulers and public transport. Cutting across Massachusetts and Connecticut, they crossed the Hudson, and then turned south toward Pennsylvania and the Poconos.

By that time, they had been on the road a week and a half. Stopping along the way, talking to locals and retirees, they pieced together a picture of rural life that wasn’t bad or good, just confined by economic restriction. Old timers remembered traveling widely and freely in their cars. Two guys traveling in a classic roadster rekindled those memories. They talked of family tours to Disney World, Branson, or Vegas. They talked, with almost religious fervor, of Nascar races and the Indy 500. The races were still held, but people didn’t drive to them any more.

They stopped at the Biotech Center. Dr. Khundi wasn’t there. He was spending a rejuvenating month in Bermuda to restore his 105 year-old body to top shape for his last few productive years—Doctor’s orders. Alice met them and showed them around.

Cloning of previously extinct animals was in full operation. Flocks of passenger pigeons had been restored to the growing prairie regions. Numerous ice age animals, including the Great Cave Bear, had been brought back from oblivion. Since the bear’s entire habitat in Europe had been destroyed, the four specimens cloned, two male and two female, would be confined to zoos. Two cubs were still there. They were huge. The weirdest creatures were the Dodos. Brought back as a curiosity, Dom enjoyed feeding twenty or so of the slow moving birds, scheduled to be shipped off to various zoos and amusement parks.

They had been tinkering with dinosaurs. Not only were they having trouble getting full DNA sequences from specimens millions of years old, they were unsure whether or not to reintroduce the creatures into the environment. A Jurassic Park scenario was more real than they wanted to contemplate. The probability that the creatures would be more destructive than beneficial was about 93% ± 5% error. Most scientists thought that dinosaurs would have to wait until a suitable isolated environment was available for them. It was doubtful that they would ever mix well with humans, in spite of our fascination with them.

Other human clones had been born, but without Dr. Khundi, they were unable to find out anything about them. Dom was sure that, if he searched eCom enough, he could find out. His implants were getting old, but they were still very powerful.

They left the Center and took I-81 to Staunton and the familiar road over the mountains to Green Bank. Albert couldn’t believe it had been eighteen years since he drove this way. This time, Dom was driving, so he could concentrate on the view. Things hadn’t changed much.

Dom did not experience the anxiety of brake fade in the mountains his father had. The torque of the electric motors and the regenerative braking in them made driving the steep grades a breeze. Dom was enjoying the thrill and view without the stress of brake failure as they wound around the curves like a finely tuned snake.

And then, the curved silver girders of the dishes of Green Bank loomed in the distance. Memories of Esther and robbing her grave crowded Albert’s mind. Dom was not cluttered with such thoughts. He just wanted to see the place his father had spoken of so often.

Now a National Monument, the National Radio Observatory had become a museum run by the National Park Service. All operations of the NRO had moved to space where there was less radio interference for the ultra sensitive listening devices. There were a few kids’ experiments going on, otherwise, it was as Albert remembered. Thoughts of Esther were around every corner. He could still smell her perfume. He was almost happy to leave, to put those memories behind him.

They took the Blue Ridge Parkway to the Smokies. Traffic was light. It was wilder than Albert remembered. And, there were more mountains. They left the Blue Ridge to the Black Mountains, and then wove through the Craggies, Pisgahs, and Balsams, to the Great Smokies and Tennessee. The laurel and rhododendron brightened every turn. Wildlife was abundant. Dom found himself braking hard for a mother bear and two cubs. It was a great road for the Miata. They camped to majestic views, sunrises and sunsets. This was as it should be. They would walk this way someday, on the Appalachian Trail, they promised. Too bad the throngs had carved up the foothills, a few short miles away, into a patchwork of refugee and retirement communities. Back tracking to Chattanooga, they turned south on I-75.

Atlanta, of all the great cities, had transformed itself well. Trees occupied a special place in a city that sprawled through spines of its public transit system like a spider invading the surrounding hills and farms for seventy miles on any side. Following Southern tradition, the pace slowed down and moved to the rhythm of the seasons. Hickory, oaks, and other hardwoods were replacing the fast-growing southern yellow pine in the urban forests. Peoples’ homes and crop growing coexisted and shared the sun. Pets were strictly controlled in favor of wildlife. Living and working was idyllic. Atlanta was a prototype of what the country could be.

The Piedmont was heavily populated with refugees from the coast. Storms and rising water had forced parts of old Charleston, Savannah, and St. Augustine to be abandoned. Levees and pumps could not save many historic buildings. Further south, the Florida Keys were gone and all the coastal cites were losing ground to the sea. The Everglades, only recently restored, was rapidly becoming a salt marsh. Creatures that liked salt water were thriving; those that didn’t were in retreat. Manatees were coming back from near extinction because propeller boats where banned in all coastal waterways.

Albert and Dom only got as far as the Tampa-Orlando Corridor before turning around and heading west. The combination of entertainment complex and refugee density reminded Albert of Las Vegas. Northern Florida still grew many fruit and food crops, but the environmental stress reminded him of Southern California before the fall. The Kennedy Space Center had been abandoned to the Atlantic and a wildlife refuge. The Space Ferry launch system had made it obsolete anyway. A large museum and amusement center, west of what used to be Titusville on 50, was all that remained. Attractions like, “Experience the Tragedy of Challenger, First Hand” and “Three Stars, the Astronauts of Apollo 9,” turned Dom off. There was nothing for them here.

While I-10 still went through to the West Coast, much of Louisiana had been reclaimed by the sea. After a century of high levees and huge pumps to keep the water out, New Orleans had been moved to higher ground north of Slidell. Though restored, Bourbon Street never regained its old glory. Instead, they took a side trip to Memphis as they worked their way west. Memphis had taken the place of New Orleans as the blues party Mecca of the South. Elvis’s legend just kept growing. A huge statue of him greeted visitors crossing the Mississippi.

The highlights of Dom’s trip so far were their stops at the Marshall and Johnson Manned Spacecraft Centers. At Huntsville, Dom marveled at the primitive Redstone rocket that first got us in space. And Baker and Able, the two Chimpanzees who were space travelers where men feared to tread. That mistake wouldn’t be made again. They used Albert’s credentials to get past the kiddie exhibits to the astronaut training area at Waxahachie. Dom’s eyes lit up as he talked to the 44th crew in training for Mars. Albert knew what Dom’s future held from that point onward.

They had reached Santa Fe before Dom stopped talking of his plans to join the astronaut corps. Too much of a good thing, the artist colony that created the mystique had been overrun by the crowds fleeing Southern California and the Gulf Coast. After a side trip to White Sands, the mountains to Durango and Mesa Verde also proved to be crowded, but not so much that they ruined the landscape. Walking through the cliff dwellings gave evidence of how far we had come. The dwellings on Marscape were eerily similar.

They managed, after that, to camp in the West Elk Wilderness in Western Colorado for a few days and avoid others. The Wilderness was alive with elk, sheep, and bear. Wolf evidence was everywhere. They could hear them howl at night. From there, they hiked through some of the remote areas of the Canyonlands. Houses would have encroached here, too, had not these lands been set-aside as parks and reserves.

Bypassing Las Vegas, they drove straight to the Pacific Coast. After stopping to see Anne’s relatives, they followed the coast road north to Santa Cruz to see Seti. It was obvious that Seti was enjoying his studies. They had to pull him away from his friends to get him to camp and hike with them in Big Basin State Park. There, camped amid ancient redwoods, they felt a spirituality and oneness with nature they hadn’t felt before—not even in New Wilderness. After eating, they sat around their evening campfire and talked. Wood was terribly expensive, but a fire seemed necessary.

After looking into the fire for some time, Seti began talking. “Dad, I’m not sure what it is, but I’m destined for greatness. You’ve seen how they flock to me. I feel it too. The more I study, the more I understand. My Egyptian roots are somehow connected to all of this. It is as if I have set in motion forces that planted these trees, enabled the Greek definitions of government and civilization, and our need to contact other beings. I am not of this world. am extraterrestrial!”

Albert felt that he had to interject some fatherly advice. “You are immortal and possess a gift with people and animals I’m having trouble understanding, Son. But I have equal trouble believing that your source, Seti II, was, somehow from another world. Oh, I’ve read and heard the theories about parallel universes with simple portals to other time and space, but there is no scientific evidence of it. We humans seem to possess the ability to intuit science—Galileo, Newton, Von Neumann, and Einstein— all possessed it. But their theories keep withstanding later proof. Most of the paranormal theories that abound are no more demonstrate-able than simple parlor tricks, touted over and over to the masses, hungry for anything that will ease their hunger and pain. This old scientist has seen more miracles come from ordinary science—for example, you— than from all the spiritual cults that have come and gone. Those claiming the end of the world or passing on through to the other side usually end up dead. Remember, you may be immortal, but you can still die.”

“Okay Dad, I see your point. But I can’t deny what I feel inside. I just have to bring it out. After graduation, I’m going to Esalen for a while to get in touch with whatever it is. You are going to be proud of me.”

“But I am proud of you, Seti.”

“So am I.” Dominic offered his two cents. “I used to worry that you’d be self-destructive. But you’ve turned into the most empathetic person I know. Trust Dad. The only difference between my Neolithic origin and me is this science I have in me. It makes me very powerful—all this knowledge and time to use it.”

“But, there’s got to be more. All this doesn’t happen by accident. I must get in touch with whoever, whatever out there is guiding me.”

“That is a truly religious fear, Son. I, long ago came to the conclusion, perhaps from reading Darwin, that survival is a life trait that creates intelligence. Surviving, in itself, is an intelligent act. Survival begets intelligence. Intelligence begets survival—and doubt. Why should we doubt the power we have earned? Far better to use it wisely than to doubt why we have it or abuse it.” Albert was in one of his philosophical moods.

“But I support you and whatever you want to do. The Esalen Institute sounds like a great way to do just what you are asking for.”

“Go for it, Seti! I’m just going to work my way up through the ranks until I can get out there and explore. I don’t know what it is, but the more I learn about the universe, the more I want to know, to experience for myself. I feel so comfortable here, especially at New Wilderness. It’s a stable home I can count on to be there for me. Still, there’s boundless adventure waiting out there in space exploration. I can hardly wait!”

The trip was proving very therapeutic. Not only was Albert able to regain a pace of life he hadn’t seen in sixty years, he sensed that this part of his Earth was beginning to heal. He sensed that Dominic was getting far more out of the trip than he—a sense of home he would take with him. Two days later, after a conference holo with the girls at the cabin, they dropped Seti back on campus and headed north, following the coast again.

San Francisco remained poetic. Parts of it retained that old charm locked in the style of the rebuilding after 1906. The great earthquakes of 2006 and 2019, with Richter Scale readings of 8.1 and 8.5 respectively, had rendered a new look to the rebuilt areas, but a certain architectural restraint prevailed, rendering the time tested look more prominent than the seismically engineered one. The structures in the high-rise center of the City had a fanciful look as flexible bridges joined the buildings high above the moveable bedrock below. Pedestrians were always sure of a wild thrill ride every time a minor tremor shook the streets far below. Special padding, and neck and headgear became standard wear for the fearful among high-rise workers.

The Golden Gate Bridge seemed timeless as the mountains parting to let in the Bay. Suspension bridges had proved their worth, and none more than the Golden Gate. All talk of replacing it was thwarted. It remained the quintessential monument to 20th century ingenuity and industry. And it had stood the test of time and the elements.

It was dangerous living on the coast. Seismic activity was up, along with volcanic activity. The coastal mountains were slipping into the Pacific, one landslide at a time. Still, people flocked there, stressing the natural tree and brush growth that held the slipping slopes together. Dry spells eventually led to wild fires. Torrential rains in winter caused continual mudslides. The hillsides facing the Pacific were crowded, much more crowded than Albert remembered. There was sunshine and beauty here—and water. There was also sudden death. Several times that morning they crossed repaired road over areas where whole mountains had given way. Still, they came. Living in the south or the inland mountains was worse.

The narrow strip of ancient redwoods lining the Avenue of Giants was still there, a mute reminder of the grandeur that was once all of Northern California.

Surprisingly, they were able to camp under these magnificent trees. There was a spirituality to the way the slivers of light that got through brightened the dust of the ages. In the morning, the fog hugged the mighty trunks like low flying clouds. The only thing missing was some huge prehistoric creatures to match the size of the trees. It was hard to pack up and leave.

Inland could be more dangerous than the coast. Mount Lassen had ejected boxcar-sized boulders for months back in 2019. More recently, Mount Shasta had erupted, covering the whole lake area in three feet of ash. And, in 2025, Mount Rainer had blown, like St. Helens before it, sending pyroclastic flows for fifty miles in three directions and threatening Seattle. Continuing activity and lava flows had made many of the mountainous areas uninhabitable, except as wilderness. Traveling as close as authorities would allow, they toured some of the devastated areas. Albert was amazed at the resiliency of nature. The eruptions fertilized the soil. With a little rain, everything was green and growing again. Fish and wildlife moved back into these areas as soon as the ground cooled.

Prevailing winds blew the ash eastward to the desert areas of Oregon and Washington. Apples, potatoes, and wheat, the traditional crops of this region, flourished, providing much of the food for North America. Further east, the open rangelands were proving more productive too. Under open range, protein production was up, twice that of fenced ranches. More important, the topsoil was once again being rebuilt, as wild grasses and animal dung created a rich bed for growth. The sod, broken up one hundred and fifty years before was returning. Fescue root systems were reaching five feet deep, insuring a rapid rebirth of growth in the spring, preventing wind and water erosion, and rapid recovery from wild fires.

Arriving at the ranch, they were welcomed warmly by George and the crew. It was mid August. They enjoyed a week under roof and riding horses on the range instead of the car on the road. The hot tub was great after long, hot days in the saddle. They did some big game hunting and Dominic shot his first bison, elk, and antelope. It was all properly butchered and shipped east—lean, fat free protein for the masses.

Three of the ranch hands introduced Dom to strip poker with a couple of local Blackfoot Indian girls in the bunkhouse one night. Keama and Leana were twins, about twenty-five, and apparently, regulars at the ranch. Even with his perfect memory, these beauties and the free-flowing Jack Daniels distracted Dom. He was the first to have to take his briefs off. They were cotton mesh anyway, and had seen a lot of use during the trip—hand washed many times. He was red-faced in spite of his tan, as Keama had to take off her bra and Leana removed her riding skirt with much fanfare, revealing sheer yellow panties. Dom wasn’t the only one showing his stuff through his underwear. When he lost, he was forced to stand up and take it off. His embarrassment was compounded by his excitement. The way Leana had been eyeing him and making sure he got peeks before anyone else had given him an enormous erection. He was then banished to the bunks, naked.

Leana made sure she was next, purposely throwing her game. She made much fanfare of removing her little panties. From where he sat, Dom could see that two of the guys who had shown no arousal before were finally being affected. She then came and sat beside Dom, her eyes flashing brightly, while the game resumed. As the game heated up, she began playing with Dom. Before long, he wasn’t watching the game any more. Everyone was watching them. Keama proved to be just as exciting as her twin. The girls seemed to enjoy multiple partners. Everyone got in the act. Finally, the drink and exertion got them, and they all curled up to sleep.

In the morning, Leana confided in him. “Hey, Dom. Thanks for spicing things up a bit. Don’t worry, we’ve had our shots!” She laughed. “We are both scientists—Keama is a zoologist and I’m a biologist. We’ve chosen not to marry so that we can devote more time to our work. These little parties with some of the local ranchers are beneficial. Instead of our scientific advice being a threat to their way of life, they cooperate with us readily.”

“You sound like my Mom.”

“Yes, give her a kiss for us, will you?” Leana gave him a kiss and left with her sister. Dom hoped he’d see them again.

They raced the expected winter snow eastward. The Miata, with 12,370 new miles on it, was not a good winter car. It was puny too, while passing through a milling buffalo herd, numbering in the thousands. After many miles and two such herds, they reached Minot and turned north. Not allowed to approach on the ground, they rented a two-person power balloon at dawn and sped the remaining seventy-five miles at twenty-five miles an hour. By 11am they were rewarded by the hulking sight of a small herd of elephants feeding in tall grass by a stream.

There were eleven of them. They were not all of the same genus but seemed to be getting along quite well. Woolly mammoths and mastodons together. Albert guessed that the largest was Woolly. The second largest, who looked different, was probably Dima. He couldn’t remember if these clones were sterile or not—they probably were made fertile to see if they could reproduce. They were not allowed to approach lower than 50 feet, and the sky was full of tourists, so they waved goodbye and returned south. The high point came on the way back when they encountered two saber-toothed tigers feeding on a buffalo calf. There were no other airships around, so they lingered and watched the beasts tear at their prey. For Albert, it was a sight of a lifetime.

They arrived home on August 26th. Two days later, with Seala driving, the Miata left for college. During those three days on the road to George Mason, Dom revealed his trip and renewed his love for her. That time alone together was important. Dom was well into his doctoral program and Seala was entering her senior year. She laughed when he told her about the girls at the ranch. She told him that she had been, “Horny as hell,” since Thuy left for Taipei on July 25th. Dom couldn’t remember being more excited making love with her when they stopped for the night.

Before they both knew it, Dom was dropping Seala at the dorm, and then found himself driving alone with 22,845 new miles on the old car. Its tires were a bit worn, but there was no trouble on the trip. It was a good thing Anne was footing the bill and the hybrid system worked well. The mileage charge matched the mileage, a dollar a mile. The rental fee with discounts was $25,000, and Dom didn’t want to think what the gas debit charges were, although it was readily accessible in his short-term memory.

Chapter 12

Birth of The Collective

Esalen Institute, CA: 2042

Dominic Repaul completed his dissertation, A Model for Sustainability: A Spacecraft in Solar Orbit, in the summer of 2038. It was heralded immediately as a breakthrough in new thinking. In 2039, it won a Pulitzer Prize for scientific writing. With his new Ph.D. in hand, Dom spent a two-year stint at Lawrence Livermore Laboratories working on emerging propulsion systems, then entered astronaut training for the first manned mission to Ganymede.

Seala Repaul embarked on a different, but equally challenging, course. Receiving her B.A. in Government and International Politics, magna cum laude, in 2037, she immediately entered the Master of Arts in International Commerce and Policy (ICP) program at George Mason and received her M.A. in 2038. After a brief stint on the Staff of Senator Robert Kennedy, III, she returned to George Mason for her Ph.D. in Public Policy. Thuy Tuam received her B.A. with Seala. With her father’s help, Thuy started the quasi-nonprofit organization, Coastal Recovery, in 2038. CoRecov helped combine resources to save cost and reduce social impact when coastal people were displaced by rising waters or repeated storms.

The Federal Emergency Management Administration (FEMA), combined with private insurance companies and the American Red Cross, had developed a model for disaster relief in the United States in the 20th Century envied by the rest of the world. The concept was simple: the largesse of the many would pay for the misfortune of the few. It worked well—too well. During the last half of the century, people and business flocked to the southern coasts, seeking warmer winters and the lure of the sea. Large cities, like Houston, New Orleans, Tampa and Miami, grew to millions only a few feet above sea level. It was a mistake.

The gradually rising waters of global warming and increased frequency and intensity of tropical storms combined to inflict blow after blow to lowlying areas. By 2015, insurance rules were rewritten, FEMA had no funds left to function, and the Red Cross only responded to “Class 10” disasters as a way of conserving resources. As bad as it was in the U.S., it was much worse worldwide. Port cities everywhere suffered, but Hong Kong, Singapore, and Lagos were hardest hit. All island countries with major cities on the coast were suffering. CoRecov took on the task of relocating residents to higher, safer ground, salvaging and dismantling infrastructure, and allowing the lowlands to go back to the sea. Wildlife fared better, following the beaches and marshes as they formed and reformed. Floods were devastating for all. Laws were passed prohibiting building or rebuilding in flood-prone areas. The mass migration to higher ground put pressure on croplands. The Agriculture Reform Act of 2022 made it illegal to build on arable cropland in the United States. Countries able to do so enacted similar measures.

Seala’s dissertation, Restructuring Government for a Sustainable World, not only became a best seller when promoted by Senator Kennedy, it earned her a Nobel Peace Prize in 2039. Her ideas were hailed as, “The greatest new ideas in government since Plato’s Republic.” She was glad she was not compared to Mao, Hitler, or Marx. She had borrowed from them, as well as Rousseau and Jefferson. Dressed by a New York stylist for the Kennedys, she did the star circuit for a while. She was only twenty-two when President Hector Cruz named her Ambassador to the United Nations.

In spite of the dire situation in the States, there was still wealth, progress, and development. Only a few countries fared as well or better—Australia, Canada, Norway, Sweden, Finland, and a few smaller countries with resource assets or strategic location and small populations.

China and India succumbed first. The rich and connected fled their countries or to guarded enclaves as the water and land was stressed to the point it no longer sustained crops or habitation. Starvation, malnutrition, and disease ran through the people unchecked as relief and healthcare systems were overwhelmed. Areas that had been farmed for thousands of years became poisoned by salts and caustic fertilizers. Whole landscapes became barren, subject to nothing but mud in the rainy season and dust in the dry. Ancient towns and villages became ruins inhabited only by insects, rats, and other scavengers as the ability even to bury the dead failed.

Africa, already decimated by disease, was next. Vast areas of the continent became uninhabitable, either for man or beast. Marginal lands with little or no pure water and over grazing in the Middle East and much of Asia followed. Small wars, waged over the ever-dwindling sources of water and food, raged unchecked as neighbors killed neighbors and the UN was too powerless to intervene. Mass refugee migrations overwhelmed areas that could not afford stringent defenses. Many European countries struggled to deal with waves of illegal immigrants from failing regions. Fiscal prudence clashed with human rights when deportation meant certain death. Australia was besieged with boatloads of refugees to its shores

Cults thrived. The poor disenfranchised banned together in gangs, often espousing some religious affiliation, to protect themselves from the anarchy that reigned in the dead zones. These cults, often mistakenly believing that they could survive, left en masse from their crowded city enclaves to death as they struggled to exist without food and clean water.

Those on the edge saw that their family savings or good fortune could not save them from the insidious degradation pulling their way of life down. They flocked together in ultra-conservative political groups lobbying to save them from the onslaught. The sons and daughters in this predicament would do anything to escape to a better way of life. Some threw themselves into space exploitation. Some struggled for academic success. Some tried any get rich quick scheme that came along. Some sold themselves away. Drugs became the great escape. Return for those who got addicted was rare.

Those fortunate to be born where isolation and resources still existed tightened their belts and became more resourceful. Most new ideas and conservation measures came from, and were used by, this group.

Knowledgeable living and the best healthcare brought them close to the normal human lifespan, 125 years. They were the first to limit their own populations and understand the limits of Earth. By 2030, they numbered less than 400 million in a world of 7 billion dying young.

The rich fed off the masses and holed up in enclaves under guard. They developed a whole new concept of first class by traveling in ways commoners could not afford. Their children, bored and feeling invincible, were the most susceptible to cults.

The largest cult, appealing to the most who could afford to belong, was the Saganites. The Saganites were followers of Carl Sagan, the dead astronomer and proponent of the idea that intelligent extraterrestrials were common in the Universe. Just as nearly all religions professed, that there was something—out there—larger than us, people needed to believe that there were forces affecting them that they had no control over. If they could be blamed for our troubles, then we wouldn’t be at fault.

During the last half of the 20th century many people saw phenomenon, particularly in the night sky, that they couldn’t explain. These unidentified flying objects, or UFOs as they came to be called, were thought to be of either government or alien origin. Proof, other than grainy photos or films, was hard to come by; but legends, based on eyewitness or fictional accounts, grew into conspiracies with widespread support. The science of Sagan and others fueled the imaginations of science fiction and fantasy writers, and cults developed around oft-repeated legends or points of view.

Improved forms of surveillance, information and analysis gradually eliminated the existence of UFOs and little, gray, hairless men, but the science of Sagan, Drake and others grew stronger as understanding of the universe grew and people rallied around concepts like the search for extraterrestrial intelligence. SETI gained widespread support from public and private sources. Over the years from 1960 to 1992, over fifty independent searches were conducted. There was some skepticism, like that of Albert Repaul, that such efforts were too costly and wouldn’t work. Just as NASA was about to begin the most ambitious project yet, Congress stopped funding.

When SETI lost its federal funding in 1993, the Planetary Society, founded by Carl Sagan, Bruce Murray, and Louis Friedman in 1980, and the SETI Institute, founded by Thomas Pierson and Jill Tarter in 1984, began to privately fund what the government wouldn’t. Celebrities and movie moguls who profited from movies based on the first contact theme were heavy contributors. Small contributors also helped to keep SETI alive. As membership in the Saganite groups grew, so did private funding.

When an array of small radio telescopes was shown to provide the same listening power as one very large one, efforts were launched to provide one. Many plans were developed and scraped until the Allen Telescope Array was finally funded by Microsoft executives and completed in 2002. A joint effort by the SETI Institute and the University of California, Berkeley, the Allen Array was located at the Hat Creek Observatory, run by Berkeley, in the Cascades just north of Mt. Lassen. The Allen Array produced an incredible volume of data from a few thousand stars under the Institute’s Project Phoenix until interference from eCom and near space orbital activity began to drown its listening power out near the end of the decade. The Hat Creek Observatory was completely destroyed by ejecta from the eruption of Lassen in 2019. The site was abandoned, but not the idea.

A six-year campaign to use lasers to try to contact likely prospects was funded in 2001. Powerful lasers were beamed at likely star systems with the hope that, in time, the signals would cross the great distances involved. The Arecibo Observatory had been used for a similar, radio-based project in 1992. These efforts were abandoned in 2009 when Dr. Linus Tobe at MIT proved mathematically that ordinary radio signals, produced for over one hundred years would reach, and be understood by, advanced intelligence, long before the laser beams would reach them. We were already transmitting. We had been for a long time. There was no need to amplify or focus our transmissions.

When personal computers on the Internet came into widespread use, astronomers at Berkeley got the idea that idle personal computers could be used to analyze data from radio telescopes for signs of intelligent life. Seti@home was formed. By the turn of the century, over two million home computers were cranking out analyses. While this home-grown effort produced only 3% of the data analyzed, as interconnectivity and computing power rose, the project grew exponentially, about 10% per year. By 2020, it seemed that the whole planet was passively involved. Computers looked for a sign tirelessly while their owners slept. But, no matter how hard SETI signaled or listened, no one heard.

Everything was moved to space. The success of the Hubble telescope led to larger, digital optical devices with a million times more acuity. The visual, ultraviolet, infrared, and radio spectra were scanned and analyzed with an obsession approaching religion. And wondrous it was.

Planets were found in abundance. Anomalies, too. The more science found, the more was left unexplained. Some planets promised life, but none was found. The distances were just too great to tell.

Enter the Reverend Doctor Seti—Savior. After Seti graduated from UC-Santa Cruz with dual degrees in philosophy and religious thought in 2037, he immediately went to Esalen Institute. The enclave, still hanging to the cliffs of Big Sur, was suffering financial difficulty and annihilation by repeated earthquakes and landslides. Using Compton funds Seti got from Anne, and some donations from the sons and daughters of the movie industry he knew in school, he bought land over the coastal range and built a new center for the staff there. Seti was not only a disciple; he was on the Board of Directors.

Seti spent two years in solitude among the redwoods, and then he came out. He entered the University of Chicago to take a doctorate in near eastern languages and civilizations. As an associate of the Oriental Institute, he learned all he could about the hieroglyphs there, then traveled to Egypt. He traveled quietly and lightly. Only Fawzia Hussein knew who he really was and why he was there. Using his implant-enhanced perfect memory, he read all of the hieroglyphs in the museum vaults and in the tombs. He traveled the Mediterranean countries on bicycle, using his academic credentials and American citizenship to obtain entry, visiting ancient shrines in many countries. Seti’s dissertation, The Crucible of Religious Thought, brilliantly showed that all religions had originated from the Egyptian worship of the Sun, beginning circa. 12,000 B.C. People were shocked to find that Buddhism, Shintoism, Judaism, Islam and even pagan religions were traced back to Ra.

Out of universal chaos, god had created order and the Earth, Sun, Moon, and stars. Out of religious chaos, Seti had created order. Just as the genetic trail suggested, all intelligent beings and intelligent thought came from a single source, most probably in Northern Africa. All people on the planet were truly from one. All glory to the source of this life, the heat and light of the Sun!

But there were many suns. According to Sagan, there were, “Billions and billions” of them. With gravity as their igniter and hydrogen as their fuel, stars were the most common and understood features of the Universe. Seti was formulating a theory. To add credence to his theory, he entered Harvard Divinity School. When he emerged in the spring of 2044, Reverend Repaul was on the verge of becoming the spiritual leader of the 21st Century.

The world was in great need of spiritual leadership. As much as the United Nations tried to pull things together in the face of dwindling resources and general malaise, religious factions kept tearing things apart. Religions, feeling a moral obligation to improve conditions, were heavily politically involved. The morality of the religiously influenced political leadership had long kept the world apart, even as the nonreligious morality of the communist states in the last century had.

The Saganites were united and growing. It was the Saganites that Rev. Repaul sought to lead. The concept that had led to the success of Seti@home and the growth of the Saganites was universal and timeless—when people pooled their resources in a single goal, it was as though their effort was multiplied—the sum was greater than the parts. The Saganites would understand his theory. To deliver it to them, he didn’t have to preach it; he lived it.

Seti’s theory was simple. If linked resources could analyze vast amounts of data looking for an intelligent signal, than linked minds could do even more. Collective thought. Technology already existed to do it; all he had to do was take the first step. To accomplish this, he had to return to his source.

Albert was in the cabin when the holo appeared. “Dad, are you there? It’s me, Seti.”

“Hi, haven’t heard from you in a while. I’ve been wondering where you were planning to go now that you’d been ordained. Anne’s out by the lake, do you want me to get her?”

“No, I haven’t time right now. I need to reach Dr. Khundi. Is he still at the Biotech Center?”

“As far as I know, he’s still consulting with them. At 110, he’s a good example of what modern science can do. Let me get you his private address. … There it is, khundi@jhu.vip. I always get him there. By the way, what is it, Son, something big?”

“Well, you know how you’ve always said that most differences could be easily solved if you could see the other guy’s viewpoint? Well, my work with situational ethics suggests that if we have our opponents’ thoughts, the game is over.”

“I know I’ve said that. I learned early, from all those students from other cultures, that, if I listened to them long enough, I could see their viewpoints. I’ve often thought that if the common people could get together rather than leaders, conflicts would be resolved quickly. What are you planning to do, wire our brains together?”

“Exactly. But I plan to start with a small, select group of the best thinkers I know, and then gradually let others in. Do you want to be included?”

“I think I’ll pass. I’m too old to contribute much. But Dominic and Seala should be. You know they already seem to have this ability.”

“Yes, I know. But they are allowing access to each other’s memory storage. What I’m proposing is direct connection to cognition, fully controllable by the individuals involved. It works, in theory—all I have to do is try it out on a small group.”

“Theory is always risky. Can’t you try it out on Chimps?”

“It would be hard to analyze what they were thinking. This is a job for humans. …. Hi, Mom!” Anne had just entered the room.

“Hi! You sure are looking handsome! What have you two been up to?” Anne wasn’t that curious, just being polite.

“Oh, we’ve just solved the world’s biggest problem.” Albert was being his old sardonic self.

“Well, I’m glad you’re through, it’s almost time for dinner. Seti, dear, I wish you were here to join us. We’ve got fresh veggies.”

“Me, too, Mom. Oh, Dad, if my theory is right, we will multiply brainpower, too. ‘Two heads are better than one’ might be more like a factor of 2.5 to 1. I’m not sure, but it would be an interesting prospect. Well, got to go. I’ll let you know how it comes out. … Bye.”

“Pretty heady stuff,” Anne remarked as she peeled onions at the sink. She was already crying.

After an exchange of holos with Khundi and review by the Biotech Ethical Committee, Seti arrived at the Biotech Center with two trusted colleagues and friends, the Right Reverend John Jay Hall, Episcopalian Archbishop of New York, and Rabbi Saul Rubinski, Levin Professor of Judaic Studies at the University of Chicago. They held no animosity toward one another and were some of the greatest thinkers around—a good start. Adversarial people would have to wait their opportunity to participate.

They assembled in a small conference room: Seti, Rao Khundi, Seti’s two friends, three nanosurgeons, assistants, researchers, techs, and other supporting staff. It was Seti’s kind of room. He was about to explain what they were going to do.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. You have probably thought of this yourselves. But I have worked out the logic and believe we are on the verge of a technical breakthrough that is not only possible, it is essential to help us save the Earth.

You have cloned highly viable human beings. You have created viable implants that have radically enhanced human function. I am the quintessential living proof of your art. It is time to take advantage of what you have created.

I propose a merging of minds, simply put, The Collective. With implanted transmitter/receivers and direct neural networks to the cerebral cortex, we can connect thought processes anywhere on Earth. With The Collective, my thoughts become your thoughts and vice versa. The possibilities are endless—mind-boggling.

There may be a slight delay in receiving, but our brains can learn to adapt just like they do now to each new or updated implant.

Any questions? If not, I suggest we begin. There is no time to waste.”

There was a cheer and standing ovation. After a few questions, work began. It took several months of computer modeling to come up with the right neural connections and programming for brain training. In the meantime, Rabbi Rubinski and Archbishop Hall received implants and training to bring them to the same level of function as Seti.

Based on what was involved, Seti surmised that The Collective, if it worked, would be a small club for now. Their effort was, once again, funded by the largesse of Compton money—very expensive. He shuddered at the thought of only the very wealthy being let in. Immortals, like he, should be among the first. By searching eCom, he could have found out how many there were. He waited, instead for Dr. Khundi to tell him. He began to think that forming The Collective would be far more difficult than conceiving it.

Six months later, after several difficult, halting attempts in training, the three of them relaxed and began communing. It was better than Seti thought. It was easy for him to determine whose thought it was he was having. Unlike a dream, he could turn the others off if he wanted to, or tune into what they were thinking. Since they were all of like mind, it was pretty boring stuff. He was careful not to intrude on their private moments. He expected the same from them, and got it. However, they did seem to have one single thought, “Who are the other clones?”

There were forty-seven of them. At twenty-seven, Dominic was the oldest, followed closely by Seala and Seti at twenty-five. The other forty-four were mostly from ancient frozen or mummified remains. Dr. Khundi firmly believed that modern medicine, chemicals, and radiation had corrupted the DNA of most industrial age individuals. Besides, he did not want to deal with living relatives. Seala was an exception he purposely ignored. She had proven to be as perfect as the others.

The clones ranged in age from 7 to 21 and were spread out among 32 families, mostly in the Northeast. Ten were in college. Five had graduated or were in grad school. The average age for starting college was 16. Seti was impressed with the details. He wanted to include them all in The Collective.

Through Dr. Khundi, Seti was able to reach the immortals and their parents, and ask if they would participate in the experiment. One by one, they came to the Biotech Center and received the necessary implants. The Collective was pleased as each new member finished training and joined them. Quietly, a new age had begun.

Chapter 13

Death of an Immortal

Esalen Waters, CA: September 13, 2044

The Most Reverend Seti Amenope Repaul, B.A., M.A., Ph.D., D.Min., looked out upon the blue waters of Lake Tahoe. Though surrounded and revered by many, he was alone with his thoughts.

“Why can’t I make them understand?’ he thought. “I am not of this place. I must find them, wherever they are, so that I can be whole!” He projected his thoughts through The Collective with all his energy—to no avail. Nothing came back. It never did. “Would he ever find them?”

After he formed The Collective, Seti returned to Esalen. As word of his insight grew, he was often called upon to counsel world leaders. He also found himself on late-night holocasts with celebrities and their hosts. It was on one of these programs that he met Dr. James Sobol. Dr. Sobol was a student of Frank Drake at Caltech and the executive director of the SETI Institute. That night, he was describing how Seti@home had become a phenomenon. Starting from an idea by astronomers at Berkeley and a few personal computers in 1995, the program running in the background of home computers had come to use most of the idle computing power of eCom. Seti was intrigued, because what Sobol was describing sounded like a computer version of The Collective. Dr. Sobol went on to explain, that even with all that computing power scientists were not able to determine any behavior that showed the existence of extraterrestrial life or even the carriers of such signals. However, science had made great strides in radio astronomy, covering all the spectra to visible light. Sobol’s work with space-based receivers was very promising, hopefully enabling reception beyond the interference of Earthly transmissions.

What they needed, Dr. Sobol explained, was a radical new approach. Now that the computing power for analysis existed, he suggested that we increase receiving power. The Allen Array had worked well at Hat Creek. He suggested an array of colossal proportions. That’s why he was on the holocast. It would take considerable private funding to accomplish the task.

Seti took the idea home with him that night and consulted The Collective on the way. He decided to work with the Saganites to garner the funding to accomplish the project. Starting with Compton money, he appealed to the Saganites directly through their leader, Dr. Louis Friedman. Now 105, Dr. Friedman was a cofounder of the Planetary Society with Carl Sagan. A respected member of the community of astronomers and space scientists, he had spent his last fifty years working on solar sailing craft. Retired to a mountain retreat, he still was the spiritual leader of the Society and the Saganites. That was about to change.

After preliminary emails, they decided to meet in person. Seti found Friedman where he lived—high in the Sierras. Seti arrived in the early morning. They talked while the rising sun pierced the fog and drove the dew from the Douglas Fir needles floating gently above their breakfast table.

“I have read your work, Dr. Friedman. It is a pleasure to meet you. While I didn’t know Dr. Sagan, it is through your books and holos that I’ve come to know him. You were his student?”

“Yes, at Cornell. I knew and admired Carl. He was a mentor for all of us—a spiritual leader. If it hadn’t been for him, much of the research we are able to do today wouldn’t have been possible. I tried to take on the leadership role after he died, but I couldn’t fill his shoes. He would be amazed at how these Saganites revere him. He was most comfortable among his fellow scientists, not with all those autograph seekers. He did like talking to Johnny Carson, though. That’s where the world got to know him—a TV show.” Dr. Friedman seemed to startle himself with such a profane pronouncement.

“I know my father, Albert Repaul, was also a student of Dr. Sagan. He gave up the practice of astronomy and loathes the Saganites. While he believes Sagan’s theories are still correct, he sees no easy contact with extraterrestrials. I disagree. I have a strong sense of premonition. That’s why I’m here.” Seti paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.

“If I may be bold, Dr. Friedman, I’m here to suggest a new concept. I understand that you need a larger array, and the funds to produce and deliver it. I’m here to offer you that assistance. I too, seem to have a connection, like your Society’s founder. If I may be so presumptuous, I would like to carry on Dr. Sagan’s mission—to bring the concept to the people.”

“Dr. Repaul, I have reviewed your considerable credentials. You’ve accomplished much in your short career. But what will you bring to the Planetary Society and SETI? Your right, you do seem very presumptuous!”

“I bring you my name, and my money—and much more. You may have noticed that my first name is Seti. It is no accident. I cannot explain it to you right now, but I’m the clone of an ancient pharaoh of Egypt, Seti II. It is by no coincidence that my name matches the acronym, search for extraterrestrial intelligence.”

Something in Seti’s manner and conviction caught Friedman’s attention. He couldn’t help like this youngster’s brashness. “What kind of money are we talking about?”

“Trillions. I have connections with many celebrities and world leaders. I’m prepared to bring you the kind of money that only the Gates Foundation or the Oracle Foundation can provide. Are you ready to spend such vast amounts?”

“I’m tired and retired. But I know many scientists that are ready when you are. You’ve convinced me.”

They shook hands. Seti left with his thoughts spinning—with The Collective tuned in. Louis Friedman sat on his deck, shaded by the giant firs and contemplated what had just happened. His thoughts turned to plans he had long had for an array in space of colossal proportions and power. His solar sailer would finally be tested.

Seti and the Collective immediately launched a campaign, knocking on doors and on the holocast talk show circuit. Funds began pouring into the new fund set up for the project, the Interplanetary Research Fund. While Seti spun tales of how they would contact the help they needed to save the Earth, scientists, researchers, and contractors began the task of creating his vision—the giant array that would surpass any project as yet attempted by humankind—the Sagan Array.

The project became known as SETI II, named by public demand after its benefactor and chief proponent. Dr. Seti A. Repaul received the Nobel Peace Prize for his work in 2034.

Albert Repaul was justly proud of his son. However, his old doubt hung over him like a cloud. He couldn’t cast it out. He had questioned the SETI concept from the start. Now his son was the champion of it. He hoped that he was wrong. But something told him, deep inside, that he was right. SETI II was just another big waste of time and money. No use arguing with Seti about it. He would have to find it out himself.

As the SETI II project grew and things got worse on the coast, Seti looked for a new location for the Esalen Institute. A donation by the Ponderosa Trust caught his eye. It was a 500-acre tract of land located on the north shore of Lake Tahoe. He wasted no time in moving the Institute there. While still subject to the volcanic violence that wracked the Sierras, it appeared to be safer than the coastal location. Here, he built a complex rivaled by none, where he and The Collective could commune. Great thinkers the world over came to walk the tree shaded trails, calmed by the blue water and isolation of their private bungalows.

They came to seek Seti’s advice and counsel—and to get away from the troubles besetting them. Some were asked to join The Collective, but most were not. At first, Seti thought that The Collective would be able to solve most problems easily, but he was wrong. There were no simple solutions. Even collectively, humans weren’t smart enough to save the world. Draconic measures hadn’t worked. As his fame spread and people came more and more to look to him for answers, he withdrew and sought his own savior. He immersed himself in the project. He had to contact the source of intelligence before it was too late. He became passionate about his obsession. He would succeed or die trying.

Friedman’s solar sailers, codenamed Caravelle, had proved the concept of sailing the solar wind. Caravelles 4 and 5 had even tacked, enabling them to return to Earth after long journeys around the sun. The sailer being built for SETI at SpaceWorks, an Interplanetary Fund Company in synchronous orbit, was several orders of magnitude larger, a departure from the Caravelles. Without consulting anyone, Seti dubbed it Albatross. Albatross 1 would carry the first 81 receivers and deploy them in the Mars orbital path. The receivers would be placed precisely 5,000 meters apart. They would be individually controlled from a Mars orbiter, Sea Gull. The receivers would be synchronized and interchangeable. Eventually, there would be thousands of them, linked in a dance of discovery as they rotated the Sun and prowled the stars for a sign.

More and more, Seti took the Space Ferry to SpaceWorks, watching his baby take shape. Once deployed, he hoped that the Sagan Array would grow in power and size until it listened in on the Universe itself. Surely then, he would find the answers needed to save the Earth. Unwilling to let others run the project, he took charge. He went to the Johnson Spacecraft Center and received the deep space training his brother had before. Seti Repaul would command the Albatross.

On a sunny morning, May 10, 2047, Dr. Seti Repaul and a crew of five set sail for Mars. It was only a metaphor. Except when eclipsed by the Earth, it was always sunny at SpaceWorks. Morning was an Earth concept, carefully nurtured to keep the occupants in touch with their Earthly rhythms.

After the crew’s quarters was rotated to achieve Earth gravity, and thrusters nudged the giant Albatross into position, the sails were deployed. Ever so slowly, particles beaming from the Sun reached the sail and imparted their gentle force. By the end of the first day, they were doing .3 knot and accelerating, taking them on a course outward, ahead of Earth, to match the orbit of Mars in 21.359 months. It would be six years before Seti would return to his followers on Earth. Until then, the Saganites would carefully monitor his course on eCom.

Dominic was six months into his own mission to Ganymede. Their conventional nuclear pulse rocket-powered craft, Red Storm, was named after the huge red spot on Jupiter that would occupy much of their research while at the giant moon, Ganymede. He, too, expected to return in six years.

Seti liked it on the Albatross. He could be alone with his thoughts. Only two of the crew were members of The Collective, and he was not close to them. Weekly, he composed holos and sent them to Earth. Otherwise, he was not in direct communication. As soon as they left the influence of Earth’s gravity and she grew smaller in the viewfinder, the communication gap widened.

After a month, normal conversation became impossible. Seti could no longer commune with Saul, John, and Seala. He missed that. Seala had become his closest confidant; someone he could count on to give him the truth about what world leaders were thinking.

He often thought of his last conversation with her just after he embarked.

“Seali, I am both excited and calmed by the prospect. It was so anticlimactic. The thruster’s pushed us off gently, and then we just sat there. There was a feeling of movement when the sails deployed, and then we just sat there again. I guess I expected more. Something like the adrenalin kick I got each time I took the Ferry up here.”

“Oh Seti, you know what to expect. It will take a long time for the minute force of the solar wind to accelerate Albatross to any speed at all. Try not looking out at SpaceWorks too often, and then you will see if you’re moving. I guess it’s a good time to think about what you’re doing.”

“What are they thinking—your friends over at the United Nations? Are they concerned? Do they want me to succeed or fail? I’m interested.”

“Oh, they are as expected. Some are for you and some against. Delegates from the poorest countries seem to be backing you the most. They’ve got nothing to lose. But some of the wealthier delegates, like those from Finland, think your venture is a waste of money. I wouldn’t pay them any mind. The nay-sayers are a rich, but small, minority.”

“I have a premonition. I don’t know what it is exactly. But I think I’m going to make contact on this trip. Please don’t tell anyone. You know I haven’t shared it with The Collective. I’ve known it for some time. That’s why I’m here instead of watching from Earth. I’m going to meet my destiny. I’m sure of it. Still, if it does not come to pass, I don’t want to let the millions who count on me down. Promise not to tell anyone, even Dom?”

“I promise. But now you’ve got be intrigued. Tell me more.”

“There isn’t much to tell, just a premonition. But it’s strong. And has something to do with the Sun. It must be in this seed, this genetic code that’s in me—being a descendant of the Sun God, Ra.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes I have thoughts and dreams that take me back to a place like Africa. They teach me things I cannot tell others, because they don’t understand. I’m given fire and tools to use. I suddenly have a language to speak and the tools to write it. I learn how to tame animals so that they will respond to my voice. For our sake, I hope your premonition is true. So many here are counting on you to come up something that will help save them from the wretched lives they lead… Godspeed.”

“Nanospeed for now. God will have to come later, when I am near the speed of light. Goodbye for now, my sweet sister.”

The world watched as the Albatross gradually picked up speed and disappeared from the cameras on SpaceWorks. Seti’s weekly holos to the masses leaked clues to what he was thinking like droplets on the ocean. Some picked up what he was thinking. Some did not. The Collective sensed it first.

Six Months Later: November 8, 2047

It had been three weeks since the Albatross passed the point, on the backside of the Sun, where interference blocked direct communication with Earth. Of the two relays available, Red Storm and Mars eCom, Red Storm was closer. Communication took 17.36 minutes to reach Red Storm. Relayed from there, it took another 36.12 minutes to reach Earth. One-way, it took over forty-five minutes for a transmission to reach Earth. On Red Storm, Dominic heard sooner.

Seti was in the exercise room, burning carbs and watching a holo of Seala’s vacation at New Wilderness. Oh, how he missed that place at times like this—watching Seala and Thuy swimming and fishing, laughing and talking like school children. Just relaxing and enjoying the variety of experience available there. When he had been there, he thought he was alone and isolated. He wanted to get out into the real world he saw on eCom. Now, he longed to get back in that familiar place. If he found them, maybe they could get him back. The sterile bioscape the designers had created for the Albatross was like a dungeon when compared to the natural world. Tears welled up in his eyes. He missed that place. He missed them. It was the price of his calling.

Suddenly, a shock ran through the craft. He was thrown from his exercycle as the lights went out. He was clinging to the carpet and struggling to his knees when emergency lighting bathed the room in a yellow glow and auditory alarms competed in a cacophony. All of the visuals were gone, but the gravity was still on, there was air, and the Albatross was stable as he crawled for the door, already sensing his crewmates’ collective fear.

“Everyone all right?” Instantly, everyone affirmed that they were— above the din of the alarms.

“What was that?” No one seemed to know. Seti reached the command center, where two of the crew had been on duty. The others joined them from the sleeping quarters and mess. After rebooting the main computer, the lights came back up and most of the alarms subsided. The jolt had forced the system past the backup to the auxiliary, emergency mode, hence the emergency lighting. Sensors, alarms and visuals clearly showed the problem.

“Oh my God,” Taylor Gordon, flight commander cried. “It’s gone!” The sail was torn away, and had disappeared from sight. The main mast was sheared off. Cameras showed a dirty smear on its shiny stub where it had been struck by something large—How large?

The external cameras had caught it coming—and going. It was an irregular piece of chondrite about a meter across. It probably weighed about two thousand pounds, and was traveling about 47 kilometers per second. They were lucky to be alive.

But they were not lucky. “Look at that!” Taylor exclaimed again after the main console came back up. “Our trajectory has declined 32%!” There was despair in her voice as she choked it out.

Seti did the calculations in his head. They could nudge the craft a bit with their rockets until they ran out of fuel. They could try to rebuild the solar sail to get thrust and direction. They could rig solar panels to generate electrical power they could use to create fuel from their water. None of these efforts would make a dent in the holo before them—collision with the Sun in nineteen months. The meteorite had set their angle. Their velocity of 37.328 kilometers per second had been reached by months of slow acceleration to overtake Mars. They were now headlong back toward Earth’s orbit around the Sun and beyond. The Sun’s gravity would do the rest. The Albatross would melt long before it reached the fiery surface.

Undaunted, The Collective, assisted by the best minds in the International Space Federation, spent a month trying to come up with a scenario for rescue. Dominic’s Red Storm, already past Mars orbit, did not have enough fuel to reverse course, affect a rescue, and pull out of the pull of the Sun’s gravity. It would be too late, anyway. The same problem existed with the three Mars Ferries underway. Attempts to use the gravity of Mars, Earth, or Venus to alter course failed because Albatross lacked any ability to maneuver into position close to any of these bodies on its plunge to the Sun.

Eventually, after that month of frantic searching, inevitability set in. Seti had already come to that conclusion within hours of the accident. He had let the others try because he knew they had to exhaust all possibilities—all hope. He let his spiritual side take over. Soon, he began to think that it had been ordained. He forgot himself and rose to meet the pain of those who had counted on him so much. Even with the difficult communication involved, he spent sessions lasting many hours trying to relieve the concerns of his growing band of followers on Earth.

Looking for a sign, the disenfranchised masses flocked to Seti in proportion unheard of in modern history. He was overwhelmed trying to answer their questions. So, he stopped. He went into isolation in his small quarters for thirteen months. While each crewmember on Albatross contemplated his or her own fate, they could no longer commune with him. It was hard—hard not having his spiritual leadership on board. Alone, they had to come to peace with themselves before facing their inevitable death.

When Seti came out, he glowed with a peace and tranquility that soothed the crew and radiated to the masses.

He had produced a tome that he called, The Universal Truth. In, it, he outlined a storehouse of truth that he called, The Universal Intelligence. The Collective would operate in everyday life, collecting the universal truth to be included in The Universal Intelligence. The Universal Intelligence defined humans and set them apart as intelligent beings. The Universal Intelligence would guide the future of human development and provide the essence of Earthly intelligence for any contact with any other intelligence.

The first universal tenet, “Nature knows best”, outlined what Albert Repaul and others already knew; that attempting to shape a planet’s evolutionary forces with meager intelligence is a recipe for disaster. The second tenet, “Intelligence is benign,” outlined the folly of wasting resources to attempt to defend oneself from higher intelligent life forms. The third, “Power is infinite,” referred to the energy available to be used intelligently. And so on. While The Universal Truth was hard for some to understand, it was hailed by religious and scientific scholars as the greatest book since the Holy Bible. The masses, regardless of their religious affiliation, saw it as a sign of the second coming. The Collective saw it for what it was—a guidebook to the stars.

There wasn’t much time left. The crew exchanged holos with their loved ones. Seti conferred with world leaders and his following, now numbering, some said, as much as 70% of the world’s population.

On April 24th, 2049, Seti’s 31st Birthday, they gathered wherever people gather. The Mall amid the cherry blossoms, Times Square, Tianamen Square, Red Square, St. Paul’s, sports arenas, and meeting places large and small, to honor the not yet dead in a memorial service for the six souls on the Albatross. For the first time in recorded history, the soon to be dead would participate in their own funeral service. The event was simoholocast the world over and coordinated by the minions at Esalen Waters. Saul Rubinski eulogized Seti:

“I stand before you, a lowly, humble man. For I am not worthy to honor such a man as Seti Amenope Repaul. For he stands out among the minds of the 21st century, and is perhaps, the greatest mind that ever lived. He came from humble beginnings, and for a time, in his youth, led a very troubled life. However, he came up from that to serve us in ways we are just beginning to imagine. Among us, he has formed The Collective. Lest you fear its name, The Collective is no more than a meeting of minds. As a member myself, I am humbled to think that I have shared thoughts with the great Dr. Repaul. But that’s the way he is. He accepts everyone, and is most willing to share his thoughts. For that’s all he has … all he’s ever had … and all we will ever learn from him. In his final months among us, he has brought us the truth, the universal truth. Long after he is gone, we will ponder what he has brought us … how he has touched us … and how he has raised our spirit. While you can still hear me, Seti, I promise that those of us in The Collective—indeed, the world over, will carry on your mission and contact extraterrestrial intelligence before it’s too late.”

Seala then rose to speak to the thousands gathered by the reflecting pond. Anne and Albert stood at her side. The statue of Lincoln sitting behind her formed a fitting backdrop. First, she showed a holo from Dominic, older brother and fellow space traveler. Dom was apologetic. He cried to think that all the Federation and The Collective knew could not save his brother. He promised to carry on, to seek out the intelligence Seti believed would save the Earth. Seala then spoke of growing up “wild” as “twins” and soul mates. How Seti had miraculously changed to become what he now was, “…The hope of humankind.” Her voice quavered as she said her last goodbyes.

Eulogies were said for the others. The world sang together and prayed. In 45 minutes, a holo appeared. The Rev. Seti Repaul made his last comments to the world:

“Weep not for me, or for this brave crew. For we have come to peace with ourselves knowing that we serve a greater purpose. That you will carry on. I am saddened to think that I will not see the coming of our saviors. I’m saddened that I will not be the one to greet them. But, I know that you will carry on. I know that most of you will live to see that great day when we make contact and the world will be saved. Have faith and carry on. That’s all I ask. That’s all anyone can ask. We will soon leave you. But our spirit will be with you … always.”

The other crewmembers spoke, each in turn, and then there was silence. The only sound that came from the Albatross was its communication carrier signal. Soon, that too, disappeared.

It was hot, unbearably hot. They could feel the pull of the giant out there that they could no longer bear to look at, even through highly protective filtered glass. Seti and the others gathered around the yellow glow of the exercise room, conserving their energy to stave off the heat. They each took a pill, one by one, and said their last words to each other. They washed down the pills with the last of the ship’s water. It was a fast acting, painless poison. And then, one by one, they sat down on the mats, fell over, and died.

They were cremated in situ a month before the hurtling molten mass that remained of the Albatross passed the orbit of Mercury, accelerating rapidly into the flaming maw of its source, Ra, the Sun.

Chapter 14

An Icy Death

On Red Storm, The Asteroid Belt: 2047 A. D.

Dom took the news hard. Although the whole crew of Red Storm was tuned-in to the funeral, and there were members of The Collective present, he felt so alone. He especially missed Seala. She was his support. His rock. His anchor. He missed her touch, her voice, and her calm nature. They were two of a kind. Somehow, he vowed to himself, “I will find a way to be close with her, even if it means giving up this business of space exploration. With our parents getting older, maybe it’s time that we both spent more time with them before they die.”

Seala felt the same. In a brief respite from her challenging duties as Ambassador to the United Nations, she spoke at Seti’s Memorial and took some time off in the New Wilderness to contemplate where she was going. She was pleased to see that things had not changed much at home. Nature evolves slowly, and even the harsh weather changes seemed benign set against the turmoil that the Earth had become. Faction against faction, religion against religion, nation against nation, idea against idea—these were the never-ending torment of her daily life. There seemed to be no end to it. Just when she’d put one fire out, another would flare up. Progress was slow, and it was wearing on her. She sought the best advice she knew— from her parents.

They were washing dishes, looking out the window at the peace of the evening on the lake. “Mom, what do you think I should do? While I enjoy my work, it’s hard to see progress, and it never seems to end. This place is changeless, but at least there are seasons, finality, and things begin and end in a predictable way. There is calm. There is peace. There is life-and-death all-around, but it has a reason to it. World politics is not like that. It’s chaos. It’s a disaster. Most ideas don’t work. It makes me feel that we are doomed.”

Anne gazed serenely at Albert working in the garden in the warm golden rays of the setting sun. “That’s why I’m glad I left the political arena. There were some small victories, but for the most part, it was always a lose-lose scenario. Your father had it right—lead by example. He’s done more with this small experiment, and the one at the ranch, than all the politicking in Washington has ever done. He showed the way, but few followed. Now, they are flocking here, trying to learn his secret. There is no secret. Letting nature take its course and working with it is a very natural thing. The arrogance we humans have is that we’ve always thought we could alter nature and not pay the price.”

“I know what you mean. Growing up here, I didn’t realize what I had until I left. I thought I could solve the world’s problems by working with people. But people are the problem. Dad’s way, blending with nature, is the best. I feel it every time I come back here.”

“But you can’t stay here either, Seala. You weren’t made for this. You have a higher purpose. You need to be with Dom. You need to go with him.”

“That’s funny; I was just thinking the same thing. I miss him so much! Now that Seti’s gone, I realize how much I love him. I want to be with him. As hard as it will be, I’m going to quit the Foreign Service!”

With that, Albert came through the door. “What have you two been scheming? I know you’ve been up to something? It wouldn’t have been to do with Dom, would it?” The old man was always good at mind reading. He didn’t even have implants, but he seemed to sense what The Collective was thinking.

Anne knew what to say. “You’re right, Honey. We were just talking about how much Seali misses Dom. I was suggesting that she need to prepare herself to join Dom in his travels. What you think?”

“Well, I’d say you two were made for each other. You’ve been apart too long. Why don’t you train for the Space Corps, Seali?”

Before her stay at the New Wilderness was over, Seala had resigned her ambassadorship and signed up for training at the Johnson Spacecraft Center. President Cruz at first tried to talk her out of it, but finally gave in and wished her well. By fall, Seala was at Waxahachie beginning the deep space training that Dom had completed three years earlier. Red Storm was leaving the Asteroid Belt. Dom was tired of the long journey, but anxious that they were soon to reach the goal of their mission—the moons of Jupiter.

Six months later

Dom was excited. They could see the giant planet growing larger in the windows each day. The Sun had receded to resemble a large star. It seemed strange that all that light from the glowing giant planet was reflected from a source now only one thirtieth as bright as it was on Earth. He couldn’t explain the anticipation he felt coming so close to the largest planet in the solar system. It was strange but familiar, as though he had been here before, but he didn’t know how or when. His holos to Earth were more frequent now—almost daily. Holos took over an hour and twenty minutes to reach The Collective and Seala, who waited on every word. As she neared the end of her training, Seala longed to be on board too. She began understanding the discipline, the boredom, the stress, the unknown, the anticipation and the sheer excitement of space travel. She was glad she left the Foreign Service.

As Jupiter drew closer, Dom could see her muted variegated colors. They seemed to change as he watched. He knew they were not changing, the reflected light from the dense atmosphere just made it seem so. The great Red Spot that his ship was named for had not changed much in a hundred years. Its true color was not red and it was a giant storm of size and magnitude inconceivable on Earth, but a storm, nonetheless.

Before long, Dom turned his focus to their primary target, Ganymede. Ganymede was larger than the Moon, but smaller than Mars. In many ways it appeared like Mars, with its surface fissures, craters, and reddish surface. But to science, it appeared to be more like Earth, with oxygen in the thin atmosphere, water, a magnetic field, and, a molten core. Unlike Earth, the core appeared to be heated by gravitational forces from Jupiter like Io. Ganymede Orbiter 3 and its Omnilanders had shown that the muting of the fissures and craters was caused by subsurface eruptions of hot water that quickly froze, millions of years before.

Excitement grew as their long, boring journey gradually came to an end, and they were caught up in the massive gravity field of Jupiter. Suddenly, objects that had only appeared as images in holos were moving about them as they sped past the other moons to their rendezvous with Ganymede. They came close to Io and witnessed its volcanic eruptions close up. Europa, long thought to be a primary source of water among Jupiter’s moons, gave no hint of it from its silvery surface. Omnilanders had proved that, below the surface, ice and water was abundant. When they slowed into a parking orbit a thousand kilometers above the Ganymede surface, the real sense of their mission began to set in.

Dom was in the first lander of five to descend to the surface. George and Rita, veterans of a Mars mission, were the first to step out on the surface. They both remarked how “Mars like” it felt. Both the gravity and landscape were similar. What was different was the large planet hanging directly overhead. Instead of the cold twilight of a distant sun, a warm glow and massive pull were omnipresent. It was an illusion. The reflected light from Jupiter was less than one-half the intensity of the Sun on Earth and the temperature was –242 F, much colder than Mars. Their suits and the lightness in their step made it all quite bearable and wonderful.

An hour and 24 minutes later, people on Earth were experiencing their joy. Soon, rovers were deployed, and a balloon took two of the crew on low-level reconnaissance. Two landers later, a makeshift research center was established near a large fissure. A hole, six feet in diameter, was easily bored through the light rock and ice to a depth of 100 feet. From there, lateral chambers were carved, creating an underground shelter. As expected, the molten core of the planet created enough heat to make bearable living quarters underground. With centrifugal 1G sleeping chambers in place, good health was foremost on the minds of the explorers. It was only an experiment. They didn’t plan to stay long this time. They planned to stop at Europa before heading home.

They also bored into the surface and discovered two things: First, there was liquid water. As they bored more deeply, through a combination of ice and rock, they encountered large pools of it. Second, the deeper they went, the hotter the water got. The hot water gave them a promising geothermal source for power, heat, and plant growth. Another source of power wasn’t so obvious. As a result of experiments in the underground chambers with suspended weights and water chambers, it was easily proved that the tidal forces caused by Jupiter’s gravity could be converted into electricity. The electricity could be used to make hydrogen and oxygen from water.

Six Months Later

The mission was progressing well. Rovers had explored for miles from the main landing site. Three other landing sites had been established. A low level flyer had been dispatched to map most of the surface and look for landing sites, settlement sites, and mining sites. Minerals were abundant enough so that mining, construction, and farming appeared to be more than just a possibility. People on the earth were ecstatic. Over 2 million signed up to be the first settlers. The experience with Mars was paying off. Plans were underway for a massive colonization of the moons of Jupiter.

Then it happened. Dom and five other crewmembers were on rotation in orbit on Red Storm. They were there, in artificial gravity to rebuild their bone structure and mineral balance before descending to the surface again. Dom was in his personal quarters when the lights went out. There were no emergency lights, and although he could communicate with the other crewmembers through The Collective, eCom wasn’t working. They were still rotating, so the gravity was still on, but nothing else was working. He couldn’t open the doors or operate anything. He just tried to keep calm and communicate with the others.

“George, Sonya, Erica … Are you all right?” The others responded, almost in unison that they were. They were trapped in various parts of the craft, in the same predicament Dom was, trying not to panic. George was in the worst shape, because he was at the command console. A seat restraint prevented him from floating, but he was in zero gravity, unlike the others.

Together, they tried to figure out what had happened. They couldn’t. They couldn’t communicate with the surface, because all the transmitters were out. Dom crawled around his familiar cubicle. Everything seemed to be in place. He still had air and was breathing well. Having gravity was reassuring as well. But, slowly, the realization of their helplessness was coming over him. He tried not to transmit it to the others. He was feeling their panic though. It was growing like a virus as they all began to realize that they were trapped and there was nothing they could do to change things. George was the most frustrated. Try as he would, he could not reset or reboot anything on the console.

Those on the surface knew almost immediately. The banter that normally continued between them and those on Red Storm just ceased. Communication between the three land sites, the flyer, and two of the rovers, also ceased. They all relied on relays to Red Storm to communicate. Rita, at the main landing site, thought about taking a lander to Red Storm, but, after conferring with the others, found there was no way they could enter without communication. There were no manual overrides on the outside of the ship. They immediately set about how they would save themselves, even if they couldn’t communicate above or with Earth.

The news didn’t reach the Earth for over an hour, when all the carriers ceased operating and there was just silence. Seala had a premonition, so she was tuned into Mission Command at the time. The silence was deafening— maddening. Everyone at Mission Command searched for signals, a solution—a sign. There were none.

Replays of the last hour of transmissions from Red Storm were analyzed for any signs of what the trouble was. Nothing was found. Seala was in agony. Mission Command was in agony. The whole world was in agony.

On Red Storm things were worse. After a few minutes without power, the ship turned cold. Dom and his crewmates were feeling it. First, everything metal around them became cold to the touch. In the dark, they had to isolate themselves with seats, mats, and clothing—anything they could find in their environment to keep from touching the searingly cold metal. Then, they could feel it—the cold radiating from outside, deep in their bones. There was no escaping it. In the dark, Dom found an eva suit in a locker in the corner of his cubicle. With some difficulty, he slipped into it, and turned it on. Everything worked, including the lights on the helmet. He was immediately warmed as the temperature control unit moderated the environment inside the suit. Informing the others of his good fortune, two were also able to find suits. That left only three without some protection. George was in the worst shape. He informed them that all of the metal on the console before him was covered with frost from the condensed moisture in the room. He had no protection and was shaking uncontrollably against his restraints. Before long, his shaking subsided and he fell into a coma induced by the cold.

The two others without suits wrapped themselves in the warmest things they could find, and steeled themselves against the inevitable. It came quickly. They talked rapidly with each other, looking for consolation and support, but they began to give in too. In twenty minutes, they were gone.

Without resupply, the suits were only good for ten hours. Dom used the time he had to his best advantage. He started working on the door, trying to pry it open with anything he could find in his compartments. He found a knife and set to work. The others also began to try to break out of their areas. Erica found a pry bar, pried her door open, and worked her way to Sonya. Dom managed to get his door open, but broke his knife. Erica managed to open three more personal compartments. They found an eva suit in each. Dom met them in the companionway.

They all had the same thought—the supply room. Dom led the way to the ladder to zero gravity. They used it primarily for exercise because there was an elevator. At the top, there was a hatch door that would automatically close in the event of decompression. Thankfully, it was open. The supply room, too, was normally open.

In the supply room, they found 30 surface suits, and refill air canisters and power packs for a few more days. They didn’t know how long what they had would last, or if they could make contact with the surface. Using their radios, they tried. After a few hours of trying, they heard faint voices behind the static. For about twenty minutes, they were in contact with the main landing site. Aside from encouragement, there was nothing they could really do for each other. Then, the voices faded until they would come around again ten hours later.

They moved everything they found, including portable lights and power units to the heavily padded exercise room in the 1G area. They broke into the mess and removed all the food and liquid supplies they thought that they could thaw.

Although there was air in the ship, changing suits seemed impossible. Surfaces were so cold that touching anything meant instant frostbite. Even moving fast, they would freeze trying to make the change. Eating food in the suits was impossible, and the only water they had had was what was in the suit sippers when they entered them. They were exhausted and dehydrated. They had to come up with something, fast.

Erica’s room was next to the exercise room. Dom thought that they’d make their last stand there. Dragging mats from the exercise room, they insulated the small compartment as best they could. They started receiving warnings that their air supplies were running out. Fortunately, the replacement canisters snapped out and in with ease. The problem was that they had no power to replenish the canisters. With one set of canisters gone already, it was only a matter of time, even if they could find more suits or canisters.

Dom placed a portable power supply in the companionway outside Erica’s room, and then hand drilled holes in the wall for the cables. A simple, portable electric heater was connected inside to thaw and warm food, water and juice; and hopefully, heat the compartment.

A silent cheer crossed the thoughts of the three of them when the elements began to glow and the whir of the fan was heard. Two hours later, it was warm enough to remove the suits. They slept fitful sleep in shifts. When it got too warm, they turned the unit off until it became uncomfortably cold again. When they regained their strength, they resuited, and one at a time made forays into the ship for supplies. One person could quickly leave the room without substantially lowering the temperature. The brief door openings helped replenish the air.

Dom found a small microwave unit for thawing and cooking. He also rigged a broiler that often filled their little room with smoke. One small bulb provided light. It was turned off when they slept. It was cramped and confining, but other warm bodies so close comforted, consoled them.

They didn’t know how long it would take for the air in the ship to foul, so they were careful. Waste was no problem. They just opened the next compartment and placed containers for it there. When anyone left, they would take any waste with them and pour it in the containers where it froze and caused no problem. With water, they could clean themselves and their dishes. It wasn’t easy, but they managed.

Dom tried to find the source of the ship’s electrical problem, but couldn’t. He tried to see if they could launch one of the two landers still on board, but, without power, they couldn’t even open the doors to the bays. Torching the doors wouldn’t work, because their airlock capabilities would be destroyed. Torching anything could have serious affects on their fragile life space.

And so they existed. Every ten hours they communicated briefly with those on the surface. Those down there had all come to the main landing site to make their own bid at survival.

Two hundred and three days later, Dom found himself alone. He was back in an eva suit in the exercise room, surrounded by debris from their struggle. There still were canisters and power units somewhere, but even if he could find them, he couldn’t mount them himself. The last portable power unit had run down ten hours before. Erica and Sonya had elected to face the inevitable without any more fight. They took sedatives, wrapped themselves in blankets and huddled together against the cold creeping rapidly into their little home. They froze peacefully in sleep. Although he helped all he could, he could not save them. They too, had succumbed to the cold. Now, his air alarm was sounding. Rather than suffocate, he cut the power to his suit. His view screen soon frosted over from his breath, and he could feel the cold creeping in.

He no longer heard the voices from below. Maybe they are no longer transmitting. Maybe he was just too tired and thirsty to listen. He was alone—alone with his thoughts. He thought of New Wilderness and his childhood. He thought of Seala. Why had he left her? They were so far apart now. They should have been together. He dreamed of long days by the lake. He dreamed of sunrises and sunsets in the woods. He dreamed of her and her touch. It was warm, oh so warm. He dreamed his last dream.

It took three months for an emergency program to refit Red Storm 2 for the mission. Although she was a rookie, Seala pulled diplomatic rank and made sure she was on the roster. She wanted to find out—to find—her brother and what happened to him. This second ship was fitted for rescue or recovery only. It was doubtful there would be any rescue, because it would take too long to get there. All scenarios showed that if the main ship had been disabled by some catastrophe, then the people on the ground would not be able to survive for so long on their own.

Recovery meant finding Red Storm, surveying the damage, recovering bodies, descending to the surface and recovering any bodies that could be found there. They would then spend some time securing the installations for future missions and conduct tests and experiments only until their allotted time ran out. Then they would return home as quickly as possible.

In the meantime, the world would wait. There could be no funerals and memorials until they were sure of survivors and deaths. Hope was still high. Following missions were being planned and built. But it was a macabre hope. Death in deep space was to be expected. Life would go on. It was the price that had to be paid to save millions from dying in Earth’s atrophy.

In spite of the demands of her upcoming mission, Seala made two side trips. First, she returned to New Wilderness and touched base with her roots. She spent two weeks with Albert, Anne, and Ping. Through The Collective, she communed continuously with Thuy. When she arrived at Dulles, Thuy was there to greet her. They hugged and kissed and spent the next few days together. They knew it would be a long time before they would see each other again. Thuy understood what Seala had to do. Thuy missed Dom. She didn’t want to lose Seala, too.

They took a van together to Biotech Center. Thuy was familiar with the place. She had received her implants and collective training there. Seala conferred with Dr. Margaret Keeley-Jones. It didn’t take long. Dr. Keeley-Jones readily agreed with what Seala was proposing. They shook hands. After taking a tour of the latest cloning projects and having their implants tested and upgraded, the girls spent a week in D.C. just getting to know one another again—until that fateful moment they would part for a long, long a time.

Thuy returned to the CoRecov Singapore Project and Seala returned to the Johnson Spacecraft Center. Seala prepared with the new intensity. She had hope. Thuy felt loneliness and despair. Had she lost them both?

One year, two months, 13 days, later

Seala was excited; it was a mixed excitement, filled with dread. But she was excited, nonetheless. They were closing slowly on Red Storm, floating peacefully and intact as though nothing had happened. She was happy for that. She’d had bad dreams that the ship would be destroyed or even missing when they got there. She knew Dom was on the ship during the last communication. So she also knew it wouldn’t be long now.

Red Storm 2 parked in a matching orbit 300 meters from her target. Seala was on the first shuttle out. This shuttle was equipped with power beams that energized the ship’s bay doors and allowed it to dock in a bay on Red Storm. With full eva suits on and the kind of dread that accompanies such missions, they opened the hatch and entered the bay. The power beams had closed the bay doors and opened the hatch to the interior. Aside from a few stray items floating in the weightless area, they found nothing unusual. The air, while stale with contaminants, tested okay. As they passed the supply storage area, the ransacking became obvious. Any sign of activity was encouraging.

They were also surprised to find the gravity area still spinning; but then, there appeared to be nothing but friction to slow it down. Seala’s anticipation grew with every step. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She could not bear to think what she would find.

After descending the ladder to the gravity area, they found things in disarray. Doors were pried open, and there was evidence that some things were not in their proper place. But there were no real signs of violence. When they got to the exercise room; they found them—the two huddled in blankets on a bunk through the open door. Seala rushed in. The bodies were stiff and in an embrace. She needed the help of another to pull the frozen blanket back so that she could see their faces. The first was clearly the beardless face of a woman. So was the second.

She heard a cry from the exercise room and made her way there. Amid the discarded eva suits, one had its helmet on. Seala rushed to the side of the guy lifting the visor. The lens was frosted over. They released the clamps and lifted the helmet off. In spite of his long hair and beard, Seala recognized Dom and began to cry.

She was holding on to that stiff remainder of what he had been, and into those frozen, staring blank eyes, trying to communicate with all her might, when she felt a gloved hand gently patting her on the shoulder. She looked up to see the crew leader, signaling her on. He could have just as easily spoken, but the gesture was appropriate for the occasion. After briefly examining the other two bodies, they explored the rest of the ship.

It only took two hours to get the six frozen crewmembers back to Red Storm 2. Dom was left in his suit with the helmet clamped back on. The others were carefully wrapped in insulating material, and placed in a chamber that had an atmosphere, but was unheated. A second shuttle was dispatched, and the problem with Red Storm was quickly found. A simple $100 control chip in the main relay connecting the main power bus had failed. The system did not sense there was a failure, so that the two back up power systems never engaged. George, freezing to death at the console, could not activate the backup systems manually. He only had to push buttons. He hadn’t trained to do it in the dark.

They had been parked in orbit for about four hours, when they heard the transmission. “Is anyone there? This is an auto SOS, requesting assistance. We are trapped on the surface. Please come rescue us.”

The main landing site had come into view over the horizon and was being scanned by cameras and powerful sensors. Although nothing appeared to be moving, infrared picked up some additional heat sources in the warmth of one of the domes. Three rovers, two landers, and the flyer were visible nearby. Everyone was very encouraged by that and a lander was immediately dispatched. Transmissions to the surface were not returned, but that may have been because no one was listening.

Seala and the others watched intently as the lander reached the surface and its crew entered the airlock to the dome. A cheer could be heard from the rescuers as their viewfinders showed what they were seeing. Four tired and weak-looking people huddled in the room. Their eyes lit up when they saw their rescuers, but they were barely able to get up to greet them.

They were quickly given nutrients and other supplements to give them strength to get them ready for transport to Red Storm 2. They pointed to the enclosure covering the shaft. The rescuers entered and took the elevator down. Inside makeshift quarters, they found all the rest of the survivors. They were in better shape than the ones on the surface, but not much. Centrifuges had given them 1G occasionally, but they were malnourished from rationing their limited food. The weakest were transported back to Red Storm first. They had to be introduced to full gravity very slowly because of their condition. It took several days to get all of them through the gradual transition and in place for long-term treatment on their way home.

Rita was the most alert, and recovered the quickest. She told them that they had gone into emergency operational mode as soon as they lost communication with Red Storm. Their biggest problem was being unable to communicate with Earth. They tried to rig a stronger transmitter, but they didn’t have the materials to do it. The third rover came back after it lost communication too. The flier was used to pick up, one at a time, the occupants and supplies from the other two landing sites. They saved the landers for escape. They had worked out many scenarios for rescuing those on Red Storm, but didn’t want to waste fuel trying to open the bay doors on the ship. By rationing their supplies, and using the test geothermal heat and water they had acquired, they planned to last the year and a half they thought it would take to be rescued. They were right.

As sad as it was, Earth was happy that only six had died. They would wait for a formal funeral and memorial services when the bodies were returned. Red Storm 2 spent two months gathering experiments, repairing Red Storm, and getting the survivors in condition for the trip home. A crew was assigned to Red Storm, and both ships began the long journey home.

Chapter 15

The Iceman Returns, Again

Biotech Center: February 23, 2054

Dom could see light. And he was warm. He remembered being so cold. The light was blinding. He had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, slowly, he saw that he was in a room and on a bed. The room was familiar, yet unfamiliar. It looked like a hospital room. He cleared his head and tried to communicate. “Seala are you there?”

Almost immediately, a door to his right opened. He caught her coming out of the corner of his eye, and rose on one elbow as she reached his side. Tears welled in her eyes as she clasped her hands to each side of his head and kissed him. Her thoughts were wild and crazy. He couldn’t believe what she was thinking.

“Oh, Seali! What happened! My last thoughts were that I was—freezing to death. And now I’m here with you—warm! Your kiss sure seems real. Am I in heaven?”

“No silly, you’re here with me, back on Earth. Dr. Keeley-Jones pulled off a miracle. I told her before I left, that if I found you frozen, and intact enough to repair, I would bring you back here to Biotech Center. Well, I found you whole—and flash frozen to boot!” She laughed.

“You had me thawed out?”

“I sure did. Your pressure suit helped keep your cells from rupturing. You also froze very fast, like the others. They’ve been working on restoring frozen animals for over 50 years now. They’re getting very good at it. Johns Hopkins is getting a reputation for saving people based on these experiments.”

Dom was surprised how good he felt. “What about the others?”

“They’re all here to. They’re five of them. Their condition is worse than yours, especially George, but they’re all in various stages of recovery. Everyone needed cell rejuvenation. Yours took two months after you were thawed out. You’ve been under sedation since then. There would be no way you could have withstood the pain, even with blockers. Your cells had to reproduce new ones to replace the bad. Then the bad ones were rejected. You weren’t a pretty sight! George has about two months to go yet before his family can see him.”

“Oh … Seali. I’m so glad. I thought we were all lost. Wonders never cease! That means no one died on the surface?”

“Yes, they did—they survived!” She moved closer.

He felt strange, but he was kissing her. His muscles moved reluctantly, but he was making love to her. When they were through, he felt so hungry. She helped him dress, and they went to get something to eat.

There were no funerals. President Jackson released the news to the world. Science had triumphed over death. To some, it was not good news. A billion people died that year of starvation and disease. Seven hundred million, born in desperation, rose to replace them. Why should we spend so much time, money and effort saving a few dead people? That was the question raised by ambassadors from the losing countries. To say that these few saved were the finest and brightest people was not enough. One could easily say that those dying never had a chance to prove how fine and bright they were.

Natural selection had reached unnatural proportions. Vast areas of Asia and Africa were barren and dead. Hardly a blade of grass grew. Salt, pesticides, fertilizers or waste poisoned what water there was. Only a few insects and small scavengers survived in these desolate places. When it was dry, the wind carried great clouds of dust the world over, spreading disease and contaminants. When it rained, there was nothing to slow or stop the water. Floods and mudslides were commonplace as erosion carved great rifts in the land. The oceans were murky in many places from the poison silt that flowed unhindered from the dead lands to the sea.

Still, there was hope. The Saganites transformed themselves into Setiites and pushed Project SETI II. One hundred Albatrosses were built, tested, and launched. New radar and particle beams were installed to detect and destroy even the smallest meteorite. Escape pods with nuclear fuel were added to the craft. And the design itself was changed to add rockets for maneuvering and evasion. The new design permitted repair or full replacement of the sails in an emergency while underway.

A train of Albatrosses, a month apart, stretched from the Earth to Mars, each one delivering its segment of the growing Sagan Array. As the array grew, so did its power of perception. Still, it only picked up the hiss that is the background of the Cosmos.

The Setiites were dauntless. They possessed a religious zeal toward their Seti and the second coming he proposed that carried them beyond the short, wretched lives most of them lived. They gave all the money they could to the Project in the hope that, like a lottery, they would be the ones to meet their saviors and the relief. If not them—then their children. There was always hope for the children.

The Red Storm vehicles were refitted too. Manual releases were placed on all electric and electronic door openings. External docking bay doors were made so that they could be entered manually from outside. This posed a security problem. So many doors were designed so that they could not be opened manually unless the power was off. With the news that there was geothermal heat, water, and minerals on Ganymede and proof of more on other moons of Jupiter like Europa, efforts to colonize and exploit these worlds redoubled.

After they had eaten, Dom and Seala roamed the grounds. Seala uploaded her recollections of events that happened since Dom’s demise so many months ago. His memory recharged, and his stomach full, Dom was starting to feel like his old self again.

“Dom, there’s something I want you to see.” They were approaching the laboratory where the prehistoric animals had been cloned.

“What has Dr. Keeley-Jones been up to now? They haven’t cloned dinosaurs, have they?”

“No they haven’t, but I’ve got something that you’ll like to see anyway.”

They entered the building, and Seala led Dom to a small room off the main hall. “Do you know what this room is, Dom?” She said.

“It looks like an archive room for prehistoric objects. All those drawers probably contain bits and pieces from archeological sites where the clones came from.”

“Aren’t we the Sherlock! It’s as though you could read my mind! Do you know what this set of drawers contains?” She answered before he could respond.” It’s the remains and belongings of the Iceman, Ötzi, that were used in cloning you. Researchers here were intrigued with the hair that your father brought back with him from Tyrol. It was a lock of woman’s hair, but there were strands woven into it of two other individuals, a boy and a girl.” With her retinal ID being scanned, she opened two drawers with a wave of her hand. The first contained the tissue that was used to create Dom. The second contained a few strands of wispy hair.

“So that’s my essence. I suppose that if I hadn’t returned, they would have cloned another of me?”

“That was debated, but like Seti, the decision was put off for later. Instead, they did a wondrous thing. Let me show you.” She began to project a holo in the back of his mind. “Meet your family.”

Dom saw three fair-haired children playing in a yard. The buildings in the background looked very familiar. It was the Montana ranch!

“They are five. Nona Esther is on the left. She’s the oldest. She was hardest to clone because her DNA was somewhat dissimilar to the Iceman’s and yours—probably his wife. Nona is a common name in your father’s family. Kemas Dominic, named after you, is the boy in the middle—definitely their son. Sendia Anne is the girl on the right—definitely their daughter. Using a little anthropology, the researchers here surmised that the Iceman was carrying a lock of his wife’s hair. The other hair appeared to be children’s hair woven into the lock. Detailed studies proved that to be true. They had wanted to clone someone just from hair, and this gave them the opportunity. They used your DNA from blood samples to fill out the sequences. While they look like triplets, they are different, and their differences will show when they become adults.”

“I’m amazed! How many new clones are they creating?”

“Not many. But they just had to try this experiment. Besides, your siblings are Neolithic—the kind of stock that Dr. Khundi felt safe with. He would have been proud. Three separate surrogates carried them. Then, they were entrusted to the care of Keama and Leana. Margaret didn’t tell us, because the team thought you might defer your plans to go to Ganymede in favor of nurturing those kids. Don’t worry; they’re happy and healthy. We will go to see them as soon as you are debriefed at Johnson.”

Chapter 16

The Death of a Scientist

The Montana Ranch: July 6, 2064

It was a glorious time to be alive. And Albert, at 120, knew it. He sat on the deck with Anne and surveyed the scene before him with his new eyes. The transplants and inserts gave him the acuity of an eagle. From the ridge on his left, down the valley, all the way to the river, he could see plenty before him. There were elk on the ridge. Just beyond the corral was a group of Herefords. Far down the valley, 500 or more buffalo grazed. Small groups of antelope grazed between. He had heard wolves howl on the ridge the night before. The cochlear implants often kept him awake nights hearing sounds he hadn’t heard since he was a teenager.

Dom and Seala were there. So were the kids from colleges far and wide. Anne was by his side. And he was at peace. Ping, Thuy and Jeremy were there, as were various relatives and friends, too numerous to mention. It was wonderful, celebrating his birthday like this, out where the wilderness had been renewed.

The experiment with open range had worked. A large portion of the Central Mountain Region had been turned back to its original purpose. The range and variety of protein production was immense. Range farming was allowed, on a rotating basis, in those areas formerly farmed. Temporary fencing, and no till methods, insured that the soil would be built up during these brief periods of invasion by advanced farming methods. Crops, needing little or no pesticides, produced phenomenal yields. Family farmers, in exchange for giving up their land, were given the right to rotate farm wherever it was environmentally safe to do so. These nomads produced enough food for the United States, and for those in other countries who could pay for it. Government policies forbid allowing any food except surpluses from reaching the starving.

Indians (they despised the term, “Native Americans”) of full blood were given franchises to hunt wild game for the meat trade. The trade operated under strict rules, so that the hunting would not hurt wild populations. Ranchers and landowners were allowed to hunt only on their own land. They had to follow the same rules protecting the wild populations. Recreational hunting was allowed and encouraged. The NRA strictly controlled recreational hunting. All meat that was not consumed by hunters was required to enter the meat trade.

Albert was pleased with the sight. It confirmed what he believed and was glad that he was seeing it in his lifetime. He thought about where he had been and where he was going. He had lived a full life, and was proud of it. Who would have ever thought that he would have a family—and that they would be in clones! It was unheard of in the last century. Now that he’d made the last half of the next century, it seemed commonplace. Too bad the dead parts of the world were gone and so many had died so needlessly.

He and Anne had taken a ride with Seala and Dom that morning. It was still cool as they rode up on the ridge and surprised a herd of wild horses. The Mustangs were sleek and strong. He knew that the wolves were keeping them healthy. Riding was a bit harder for him now. But he still enjoyed it. It was worth a few aches and pains. From the ridge they could see hawks and eagles soaring overhead. Below them to the river, there were small groups of animals everywhere. The large herd of buffalo that had moved into the area the week before was the most impressive. Albert often thought that this must have been what the early explorers, like Lewis and Clark had seen. Now it was a legacy of all who could get here to see. He understood the other areas, the Pampas, and parts of the high steppes in Asia had been returned to wild areas too. He longed to see them. But he didn’t think he had time to.

The rain forests were another matter. Oh there were islands of them in various places around the world. But, most had been the lumbered and ransacked for firewood by the teeming masses. It would take a long time for them to be as rich and productive as they once had been. Rain forest destruction had been a major factor in the climate change. He wondered if they would ever fully return.

“Now that you’ve done everything, Dad. Are you coming with us on our next journey?” Dom was at a playful mood.

“You know I would if I could. But that trip your mother and I took to Orbit Fantasy last year was probably the last time I’ll venture into outer space.”

“You know, the way this seismic activity has been heating up, we may all have to go to outer space.” There was a serious tone to Anne’s voice as she said it.

“You’re right. I heard that an earthquake 7.6 on the Richter scale hit Esalen Waters just last week. The volcanoes all up and down the Sierras and Cascades are growing more active.” Seala turned pensive. “I wonder what Seti would have thought? He always had a good answer for why things were the way they were.”

Dom intervened. “I’m with Dad. Explaining why things are the way they are doesn’t help us one bit. We have to come up with solutions, or we won’t survive. The Earth is geologically young. A catastrophic event could happen at any time. Changing where you live is one solution. But you might be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Anne, I think you’re right. We ought to consider leaving this shaky planet. I know it’s our source, but something bad could happen at any time, and we’d be wiped out. I’ve tried not to think about this slow death we’ve been experiencing. But it might happen too, if we don’t get busy. Well, it’s your birthday, Dad, and here I am pontificating.”

“Your right, Son. You’re all right. We’ve got a long way to go. I hope we can make it. I know I won’t be around to see it. But if nothing disastrous happens, I think we can make it. I’m just lucky to have lived such a long and prosperous life. Now, with you all around me, I really feel special.”

At the end of the week, everyone went back to where they were going: Dom and Seala to the Johnson Spacecraft Center; Albert, Anne, and Ping to the New Wilderness; and the others to their jobs and homes. The three college students, Nona. Temas, and Sendia, stayed on for their summer at the ranch. There was considerable seismic and geothermal activity at Yellowstone. Tourists, allowed into the Park only through special lottery allotment, were warned about the danger that existed. Already that summer, six tourists had been scalded when geysers erupted unexpectedly. Two of them died from their burns. Geologists were watching a major change in the geyser areas. They were expanding and getting more active. There were repeated fish kills on the Firehole River, and earthquakes were frequent, creating rockslides that closed the roads and frightened visitors.

The reopening of the Waxahachie supercollider had paid off. It took decades of painstaking experiments, but the mystery of the charmed quarks was finally revealed. With it came a power source that was not only more powerful than nuclear fusion, but it was more controllable. Dom and Seala were chosen to be part of the crew of the first spacecraft to use the power source in a new propulsion system. With the quark system, came a new approach to gravity. While the craft was an orbit, or at a fixed velocity, it would be weightless. Centrifugal chambers built into the ship, would rotate and provide 1G for the occupants. Once the ship was underway, things would change. The power of the quark engines was such that the ship could accelerate toward its destination at precisely 1G. Halfway to the destination, the living chambers would be turned around, and the ship decelerated at precisely 1G until it arrived at its destination. This approach only worked well for long journeys, so the Kuiper Belt was chosen for the first test flight.

At a constant 1G acceleration, the craft would reach incredible velocities. In order to protect the occupants from an accident like the one Seti Repaul had, a defense system was developed to either destroy any objects in the craft’s path, or give sufficient warning so that the powerful engines could be used to deflect the course enough to avoid collision. The system was also designed to prevent the kind of accident that occurred on Red Storm. It gathered together all intelligence that the vehicle had, combined it with all internal information such as air pressure, temperature, location of and status of doors, and so on, providing a source of comprehensive information about the craft. Codenamed, The Senses, because of its uncanny resemblance to human sensing capabilities, the system was connected to The Collective through eCom.

There was no absolute assurance that The Senses could alert The Collective in every event of danger, or even help with its solution. But, it was a quantum leap in the way space travel was viewed. It was the first time a vehicle was equipped to attempt to protect from the unknown.

Marscape was developing well. One million, three hundred thousand people now lived in cliff dwellings on the Great Rift. The food they grew, and animals they raised, supplied 72% of their needs. Oxygen produced by the plants, and fertilizer produced by the animal and human waste was steadily reducing the need for resupply from Earth. Mining was beginning to supply all of their material needs, and some rare minerals were being exported to Earth.

The Ganymede Project was manned by 2030 brave souls. Mining had begun in earnest. GanymedeSphere, a spherical structure two kilometers in diameter, was being constructed to float above the surface. Elevator shafts would carry people, supplies, water, and geothermal heat to the core of the structure. From there, a rotating horizontal wheel would provide 1G gravity for the occupants in shifts rotating from the surface. Other portions of the sphere would contain experiments and grow crops, insects, crustaceans, and other things for food and materials.

The Sagan Array had grown to 4455 receivers. It measured 111,375 square kilometers and had became the most powerful listening device in the sky. The Setiites, mixing science and religion, eagerly awaited the Second Coming, when Earth would pick up the signal from the extraterrestrials that would save us.

Two weeks before their departure to the Kuiper belt, Dom and Seala made a visit to Albert and Anne. He was now 122 years old, and they knew he wouldn’t last until they got back. Albert knew it too, and that’s why he was so glad to see them. He didn’t meet them on the road like he usually did, so they went looking. They found him in the garden.

“Hi, kids! I want to show you something. See this ear of corn? Corn never grew well this far north. But now I get great crops every year. It’s partly due to the climate change, but I think it has something to do with all the volcanic dust in the air. All those eruptions in the Sierras have fertilized everything east on the prevailing westerlies.”

“Yes, Dad. Everything seems to be growing better here. But those people out west are really worried. They’re not sure what disaster is coming next. At least the ranch in Montana appears to be relatively safe.” Dom wanted to reassure him.

“No place is safe. Look what happened in D.C. last month. That tsunami took everyone by surprise. No one ever expected the Bermuda Fault to collapse. The plan to save the city never considered a fifty-foot tidal wave. At least the Smithsonian had moved the nation’s treasures to Mount Vernon. Still, it’s too bad that so many had to die.” Seala sighed, remembering all the friends she lost. Over 43,000 in Baltimore, Philadelphia, and D.C. drowned. The wave crested at the third floor of the Atlantic City Casinos.

Albert was old, but he still made his point. “They all had an hour warning that it was coming. Some of those politicians and bureaucrats just felt too busy and important to heed the warnings. They had plenty of time to leave the city or get to higher ground. I do feel sorry for the poor who had no place to go or were not allowed into large buildings. They should have moved the capital years ago anyway. That’s what happens when bureaucrats don’t listen to scientists. Millions are dying the world over because of their bad decisions. Now it’s their turn. I’m sorry but this old coot has no sympathy.”

“We just want to spend some time with you before we go. We know you may not be here when we get back. And we want to spend some time just gathering a little bit of the wisdom you have garnered.” Dom was trying to soothe any ruffled feathers. Seala was supposed to be the diplomat.

“I have really good news. You know that I’ve been monitoring the high steppes since the Siberians first introduced those cloned mammoths many years ago. Mongolian herders had overgrazed that entire region back near the turn-of-the-century. It became the first dead zone. Well, to make a long story short—it’s back! I got reports that the grass is growing tall and that wild animals have moved back in. Some Mongolians have been found in the cities and recruited to go back as hunters and horsemen. They will be allowed to harvest wild animals, but only under the same strict rules we have here in the Western United States.

“I am concerned about Yellowstone. You know it was the source of our early wilderness theory. Without the Yellowstone example, I don’t think we’d be here, and enjoying the fruits of our labor. I hear that seismic activity is increasing, and that the geysers are changing. Just this year, two new geyser fields appeared that weren’t there before. Volcanologists have reported a bulge in the mantle under the entire area. I fear the worst may happen. Geological history may repeat itself.”

“I hope not, Dad. Yellowstone is a national treasure and a model for the world. I’m worried too, but there’s nothing we can do about nature when it’s on its course. All we can do is hope that this is just a cyclical phase that will subside in a few years. Do you want us to bring back some stardust for you?” Seala clearly wanted to change the subject again.

“No, just send holos. I will be watching your journey very carefully. Sometimes, this old body wishes he could go with you. But, I guess I’ll just have to stay here and tend the farm, and get my adventure vicariously through you.”

Before they knew it, it was time to leave. There were hugs and kisses and tears all round. Dom and Seala knew that this was the last time they would see their father. It was hard to leave. But they had to.

The New Wilderness: January 6, 2067

Albert was having a good dream. He dreamed he was driving that Monte Carlo in the evening through the damp, warm West Virginia hills. The curves were continuous in the headlights as the white edge line of the smooth blacktop disappeared around them. They were driving to some juke joint, but they never seemed to get there. Esther was by his side, and they were singing to the 8 track as it played loudly and the dew of the evening brushed their faces through the open windows as they drove. The dream never finished. It ended. It ended with Albert’s life.

Chapter 17

Disaster, Life on the Edge

Charmed One at Saturn’s Rings: January 6, 2067

Earlier on the day that Albert died, he, Anne, and Ping had received a holo from Seala and Dom. Although it was delayed two hours and 10 minutes, it appeared to be happening in real time. Their ship, Charmed One, was passing through the outer rings of Saturn. Their velocity at this point was so great that the holo of the rings had to be slowed down so that it could be viewed with human perception. Still, it was wondrous to see the colors, layers, and particles of ice so close up that you could almost touch them.

Seala was poetic in his viewfinder. “See, Dad. promised you some stardust, and here it is. These ice crystals were formed from the stuff of stars when Saturn was formed, billions of years ago.”

In his response some time later, Albert joked about, “Them only being half way to their destination, and already becoming crazy from boredom.”

In the spring the kids came home from college to ease the pain of Anne and Ping and help with the planting and harvesting. By early September they had gathered a bountiful store of food and harvested over a hundred animals for the meat trade. With tearful goodbyes, they left, leaving Anne and Ping, once again, alone through the winter. On October 6, 2067, Yellowstone blew.

A circular piece of the earth’s crust, roughly two hundred miles across and 5 miles deep, was blown into the stratosphere. Carried by the force of the blast and the prevailing westerlies, large pieces, the size of houses, fell as far east as Indianapolis. All of the Central Plain states were immediately affected. An estimated 45 million died from gas, heat, and debris from the main blast. Countless buffalo and other animals also perished. Fortunately, the warnings all summer were so ominous, that the only people left in Yellowstone were essential Park personnel and scientists. There was no adequate way to warn or evacuate the heavily populated communities on the eastern slopes of the Rockies. Laramie, Cheyenne, Omaha, Lincoln, and Des Moines were gone. Greater Denver lost half its population, and Davenport, Chicago and St. Louis were suffering disruption and death not seen since their great fires.

As catastrophic as the initial blast was, the after effects of it were far worse. The ash and dust, carried by the jet stream, circled the Earth within days. Day was turned into night. All wireless electronic communication was disrupted. The Northern Hemisphere entered a winter of black snow and endless night. The Southern Hemisphere entered a cold summer without daylight of violent storms and muddy rain. The sun was not seen for 21 months. During that time, nothing grew, and the planet turned bitterly cold. Except in the first few days, governments, relief agencies and corporations were powerless to do anything. Life was quickly reduced to basic survival. Humans with shelter and stocks of food, survived. Those without, perished. Animals, whether wild or domestic, had to fend for themselves. They stumbled around in a dark, cold world. Covered with mud, trying to find enough to eat. Even the scavengers had difficulty finding the dead.

In the brief time they had before total darkness set in, scientists, researchers, zookeepers, and the like, gathered in their charges to shelter in an attempt to see them through the bleak period they knew was coming. Anne and Ping had but a week after the dark clouds passed over the first time to build enclosures for the few animals they could trap and try to save. The kids too, having survived the blast, left college like so many of their fellow students and sought whatever means they could to get home. From Berkeley, Nona hitched a ride on a friend’s plane to Idaho and made it to the ranch. The ranch survived the initial blast remarkably well, considering how close it was to the epicenter. When ash began falling like rain, they quickly built enclosures from the house to the bunkhouse and barns. Their usual store of winter food was in and prize animals in stalls. They quickly tranquilized pairs of every wild creature they could find, and brought them to the barns. A natural gas well and emergency generator that had been used before during power outages was working well. Even the wind generators were still working. They weren’t sure how long these devices would last in the corrosive ash environment and were grateful for the natural gas. Makeshift filters from straw and summer fans were set up to provide ventilation. Two artesian wells, tapping an underground aquifer, provided abundant clean water for washing and drinking.

Temas hitched rides north from Madison, detouring on many damaged roads. Drivers, normally afraid of hitchhikers, were most happy to help out. Many were on the move, seeking shelter. The National Guard was out opening roads and helping travelers. Two days later, cold, dirty, and hungry, he walked in ankle deep ash to the cabin from State Route 28. Seeing no tracks, he left the old All Wheel for Sendi. He had talked to her briefly after the blast and he knew she was coming. Anne and Ping were glad to see him. They needed his help.

Sendi left Ann Arbor with a friend, Sandy Sorenson in a hybrid they had rented for the weekend to go to Detroit. The roads were better in Michigan, but they were jammed with people and vehicles in confusion and panic. The National Guard stopped them several times, and then let them continue. Three days later, driving in shifts while the other rested, and, after helping many people on foot get further north, they encountered only muddy rain crossing the Mackinaw Bridge. They arrived at the New Wilderness just as it started snowing and the sky turned a perpetual black. They abandoned the hybrid and took the All Wheel in through snow and ash up to four feet deep. There was a rush of emotion when they arrived. Sandy could not make it home. They had heard that Nona was flying to the ranch. They didn’t know if she had made it or not.

As the darkness and cold continued, clean air, water and food became the currency of life. Those that had it, survived. Those that did not, perished. At the New Wilderness, they were fortunate, because the springs continued to provide fresh water to the lake. The fish were saved by it, and clean water was available for the animals and the constant task of keeping their environment clean. Their stock of food was enough to carry them and the animals for a year-and-a-half without rationing. They rationed the food anyway, insuring that it would carry them another year. So many others were not so lucky.

When the sun started to peek through, and the rain and snow was less muddy, they began to have hope. The warmth of the sun was their greatest pleasure. It breathed life. It signaled renewal. It helped them through their struggle to rebuild. They watched for signs. In May 2068, buds appeared on the trees and spears of grass poked their way up through the deep, ashy mud. They let the deer, elk, and moose out to graze when it was sunny. They came back to the sheds for shelter and food for a few days. Since new tree buds were plentiful, the deer were the first to leave. The moose stayed by the lake. The elk stayed nearby until the grass grew lush in the meadows and the trees were full of new leaves. After that, they left the valley and didn’t come back for hay and grain any more.

Bees and insects buzzed everywhere. Frogs could be heard in the trees and at the lake. The water was once again clear and sparkling. The water’s edge was filled with life. Everyone was very busy planting seeds and hatching eggs. From insects to birds, every living creature they could hatch brought new hope. They saw ground squirrels, snakes, otters, beaver, and ferrets that had survived without them. There were birds in the trees. It was amazing how quickly life seemed to come back. It was the fresh, pure water that the lake provided that brought them in.

Clean rain washed the deep volcanic mud into the soil. The soil was enriched by it. Everything, that grew, grew more rapidly and lushly, producing seeds and fruit in abundance. There weren’t enough animals to eat it all.

However, the humans that survived had learned how to harvest even the lowliest seeds for survival. The Great Plains had been the most altered. Instead of the flat or rolling view, the landscape was now littered with giant rocks. Still, the old prairie grew up between the rocks. The rocks provided far more shelter for small animals and birds. They quickly took refuge in the rocks and darted out into the grassy areas in search of food.

Over 6 billion people perished. Most were not buried or mourned. Scavengers picked over their bones. Those that lived had a new appreciation for the planet. Plants survived the best. Most trees had enough reserve to live through two years of winter. Seasonal plant growth sprung from seeds and roots and quickly reestablished itself. The rich volcanic fertilizer spread by the blast rejuvenated even the dead, barren regions. Grasses grew first, followed by shrubs and other lowlying plants, and then new trees took hold. Without grazing, some regions in Asia and Africa that had been devoid of trees for over a century were growing them again five years after the blast.

In this lush milieu, insects flourished. Their eggs hatched as soon as conditions were right. They swarmed by the billions, free from birds, reptiles and other predators that normally kept them in check. Fortunately, their life spans were short. Many insects were also predators. Some insects provided adequate food for humans until crops grew again.

While small, burrowing animals survived the best, even some large animals, like buffalo, deer, wildebeest, elephants and hippos survived in small groups in some areas. The rain forests protected their species well. The canopies absorbed and filtered much of the ash and dust, protecting millions of small creatures beneath. Birds and animals that relied on sight to hunt suffered the most. Fortunately, many of these birds’ eggs were already stored by scientists. Egg banks were able to restore most species, including the hawks and eagles. There was a debate about restoring the crow. When holos showed their value as scavengers, ravens were reintroduced to the forests. As soon as it was possible, expeditions were launched to locate birds and animals buried in ash or frozen so that they could be cloned from DNA and restored.

Humans suffered the worst. The volcanic winter played no favorites. While there was time, people rushed to stores to buy supplies and food. Soon, panic set in, and they no longer stood in line and bought—they just plundered and hoarded. Looting was so widespread that police and armies were powerless to intervene. Orders to shoot looters seemed meaningless. Before the clouds of ash and dust prevented broadcasting, the news media gave some idea of how long the volcanic night would last. Those that knew tried to stock supplies for that long. Hoarding meant that some had too much, and others had little or none. Ironically, those that had access to clean, underground water without requiring electric pumps had the most chance at survival. They were few.

In houses, shelters, public buildings, churches, farms, wherever small groups of people took shelter, life was on the clock. It was only a matter of time before their food and water ran out. If they could not filter their air, they choked on the dust and ash in it. Dust and dirt seeped into everything they had, making life almost unbearable. When water ran out, they died of thirst. When food ran out, they died of starvation or turned to cannibalism. Morality no longer had a place when survival was of the essence.

And so it was that in the summer of 2068 those that were left came out. They came out gradually, from their shelters and enclaves, seeking food, clean water, and whatever life was left. Fortunately, mechanical things faired well. Those that could started up cars, trucks, and tractors and were soon plowing streets and roadways in their communities—beginning to clean them up. Ironically, fruit trees that summer bore record crops. Those that were able the plant gardens, found that they too, had bountiful results. The ash had fertilized everything. The increased carbon dioxide levels in the air added to record plant growth. The Earth had been covered with ash. It ranged from four feet deep in many parts of the United States to four to six inches at the polar ice caps. The oceans absorbed it with ease. When the sun came out, ocean fishing was good. Sea life, except for the birds and air-breathing mammals, faired well.

By 2070, the United States government had reformed and elections were held for President and Congress. After President Moran and part of the Cabinet were lost on Air Force One during the hours after the blast, Vice-President Lincoln declared martial law from seclusion at Camp David. When she emerged two years later, she commandeered all available military and police forces to help establish order and community in the United States. There remained a tremendous recovery effort underway in the roughly 500,000 square mile area of blast debris, but the economy and many facets of life were coming back into place.

The poorest countries emerged in the worst shape. With few reserves and technology to protect them, most of their people died. Those that survived tended to migrate to nearby countries where there was food and people were needed to help rebuild. In these abandoned places, devoid of people, plant life reestablished itself at a rapid rate, insects, animals and birds soon followed. The formerly vast dead areas were rapidly becoming teaming wildernesses.

Those in space were like those on Earth. Some of the company, scientific, and colonization programs were well stocked and easily survived the two years without contact or resupply from Earth. Others, like Orbit Fantasy, had been resupplied by every ferry of tourists. There were some gallant rescue attempts by well-stocked company projects, but they could only accommodate a few. Most space tourists died of starvation before the end of their first year of entrapment in space. The view of the Earth engulfed in a dark gray pall was repugnant to those orbiting her. The first glimpse of blue ocean through the heavy dark clouds was cause for great celebration. It was another three months before the first Twilight could descend.

Dom and Seala lost contact with New Wilderness two days after the blast. They stayed in contact with GanymedeSphere, Marscape, Moonscape, and many of the orbiting stations, but they heard nothing from Earth except from SpaceWorks and Orbital Command. Finally, on July 4, 2068 they received a rough holo from the Johnson Spacecraft Center. A great cheer went up among the hundred and twenty crewmates of Charmed One. Within a week, they were, once again, communicating with the New Wilderness.

There were so many questions. The 3 hour and 10 minute delay did not make answering them any easier. “Are you alright?” Was quickly followed by “How are the animals doing?” and “Is the lake still okay?”

Anne and the others replied as soon as they could. “It was very difficult. Especially not being able to breathe the air outside and having it so cold for so long. Albert’s tunnels really helped us get to the lake and to the animals. His biogas generator kept us in the light during the darkest times. Fortunately, we had enough time to gather our supplies in before it became totally dark and the air became unbreathable. Almost all the animals we kept in the sheds survived. It was tough getting them enough food and water. It’s only been a month since we’ve had sunlight and could venture out. It is remarkable how the forest is coming back to life. We’ve seen animals that survived on their own. I don’t of how they did it. They all looked very sick, but the new growth is helping them get healthy quickly. We saved four wolves: an alpha male, another male, and two young females. It was a very hard fight to get enough for them to eat. It was better to try to save the other animals than kill them to feed the wolves. Fortunately, we were able to fish on the frozen lake even during the darkest times. Most of those fish went to the wolves, otters, fishers, bobcats, wolverines, and foxes.”

“The lake saved us. Those springs kept pumping out fresh water through the darkest, coldest times. We could always count on the lake to provide us with clean water. So many others weren’t so lucky. We’ve talked to few people around here. Most had a much harder time surviving than we did. I can’t believe so many died. We are just beginning to hear. There’s martial law and the government is in shambles. I just got in touch with the ranch last week. Although they were only two hundred miles from the epicenter, very little debris fell their way. They survived on their well water, the stores they had for the coming winter, their wind generators, and the natural gas well after the wind generators failed.”

“If Nona had not made it there, she probably wouldn’t have survived. Other ranches didn’t fare that well. We’re just lucky to be alive and well after such an ordeal. It’s so good to hear your voices. How are you doing? I so much want to see you again.” There were tears in Anne’s eyes and a lump in her throat as she spoke.

Over four hours later, the response came. “We and all aboard are well. We have found wondrous things out here. The Kuiper Belt is full of debris. There’s enough stuff here to supply us with raw material for a sustainable space community that Dom has long envisioned. We have a ship full of samples and will be returning soon. We do want to see you so. We miss you all so much. And we want to see what has happened to our beloved Earth. We are so thankful you’re still there to greet us after our long journey home.”

Anne was not there to greet them. Ping awoke on September 6, 2071, to find Anne dead beside her. Only Temas was there to console her. Sendi was with Sandy helping what was left of her family get ready for another hard winter. Albert’s family in Ironwood was gone. None had survived the volcanic winter.

Chapter 18

New Earth Colony

In Earth’s Orbit of the Sun: January 1, 2101

There was much to celebrate. Earth had weathered the worst disaster in recorded history. The surviving 665 million inhabitants had managed, in 32 short years, to erase most of the reminders of what the Earth had been like before nine tenths of the population was lost. Some cities, especially those on the coasts, and in seismic and volcanic zones, had been totally abandoned. They now stood like ancient archaeological ruins, inhabited only by creeping plant growth and wild animals. An occasional defector camped out in these places, but authorities generally were not very happy with any desecration of these shrines to another Earth, another time.

Coolie Lemur, President of the United States of Federation Earth, announced that SpaceWorks, funded by World Fusion, International, was putting on a special “Show of the Century” for the residents of Earth, Moon, and near Earth orbit. Particle beams, aimed at Earth’s atmosphere from orbiters, followed the course of midnight across the planet. At midnight, from above and below, the ionosphere exploded in beam-induced aurora borealis of color and magnitude never before seen. The wildly colored pulsating displays were accompanied by classical music. SpaceWorks chaser ships followed midnight for twenty-four hours around the planet. A lucky few got to make the entire trip with the President. Those that wished could either watch as midnight passed their way or tune in, stimulant induced, to the whole twenty-four hour saga.

Dom and Seala watched and listened from afar. Earth was about the size of the Moon viewed from Earth. With their telescopic vision, they watched the displays play across the dark side for about three hours, sipping nectar, celebrating in their own special way. They, too, had a lot to celebrate.

They were most pleased with the progress of their project. For ten years, they had been building a spacecraft of massive proportions in orbit of the Sun, matching Earth’s orbit exactly. For the twenty-seven years since they had returned from the Kuiper Belt, they were convinced that the material there could be used to enhance human habitation. Brave souls, using Albatross-like sailing craft, had been enlisted to sail out to the Belt, snare a passing asteroid or comet, and escort it back to the orbit of the Earth. Here at the project, a mere million miles from Earth, four deep space objects were being taken apart to build New Earth Colony.

Earth had become a national park. Instead of a few parks scattered among a few nations, the continents and oceans were now one massive park, with a few, widely scattered settlements where people lived. The wilderness areas were still readily accessible by land, water, or air, but they were not settled. Strict rules for population growth and strict boundaries for where people could settle, insured that population growth and urban sprawl would never again damage the Earth. The carefully planned and redeveloped human settlements, and the vast wilderness just beyond their boundaries, created an idyllic environment not seen since the 18th Century explorers ventured to new lands from Europe.

Everyone wanted to clone a relative, or bring back a lost loved one from the Great Disaster. It was no longer possible to do such things on Earth. With the support and sanction of the Federation, Dom and Seala headed a joint project to create the first sustainable colony in orbit around the Sun. If this colony succeeded, and there was every indication that it would, then population growth and the restoration of ancestors could proceed because the population of these colonies would not put any pressure on the Earth’s fragile ecosystem. The Federation had determined that while there always remained a certain danger to any human population on the Earth, keeping a population there could also help preserve the rich life forms that had developed over millions of years.

The Great Disaster was a case in point. It wasn’t the first to have struck the Earth. Geologists determined that the Earth had suffered an extinction or near extinction event on at least six occasions. While the Great Disaster had obliterated 90% of the Earth’s species, including Homo sapiens, the fact that humans survived enabled over 50 percent of the species lost to be reintroduced. The Biotech Center not only survived the volcanic winter, it was instrumental in reintroducing millions of species from its vast store of genetic material. Without human intervention, it may have taken nature a thousand years to recreate the variety of fauna and flora that humans were accustomed to.

The great lesson was that it wasn’t individuals who were important, but species. Evolution took too long to create species for them to be lost in a geological instant.

From their construction ship, Dom and Seala viewed the progress of the great colony. Piece by piece, a huge ring was being constructed. The ring would be exactly the circumference of the Earth when finished. It would rotate once every twenty-four hours, providing exactly 1G gravity. The floor of the ring was 500 miles across. Every thousand miles along the ring, a spoke rose to the center of the ring. Each spoke would contain elevators to the center and conduits to carry air, water, power and other essential utilities to maintain the colony.

Each of the twenty-five segments of the ring would be 500 miles wide by 1000 miles long. After initial preparation for drainage, airflow, and support, various Earth-like landscape schemes would be built on the floor of each segment. There would be deserts, lakes, forests, farms, and mountainous regions built from asteroid materials. The roof above would arch 100 miles high. Built into the roof would be day lighting, night lighting, weather, stars and a moon. At each spoke, an airlock would insure that if an accident should occur, only one 25th of the living space in the colony would be affected. Manual overrides and quick response rescue strategies, as well as “safe” locations within each segment were designed to save human and animal life in the event of an accident.

The spokes of the colony supported a huge parabolic mirror, concentrating the Sun’s energy to a fusion reactor 3,500 miles from the center of the ring. The reactor provided power to operate the colony’s stabilizing thrusters and recycling ecosystems. At the weightless center, serving ships would dock with ease in huge bays. Here, and at three other locations on the outer ring, were complete control centers with duplicate isolated nuclear power reactors that could each run the entire colony alone.

Each segment was designed to support twenty thousand people and their animals. Population had to be strictly controlled, so that ecological balance could be maintained. In most segments, the population was located in a small, walking-environment city, located adjacent to a spoke. Some segments had two cities, and five had the population dispersed in several small communities. Initial life had to be carried from Earth. After that, the animals, birds, and insects brought to each of these ecosystems were designed to stabilize themselves. Human intervention would only be used if necessary. Most waste would be recycled. Waste that was not recycled would be placed in a parking orbit nearby for future use, or given a slight nudge that would eventually cause it to fall into the Sun.

The people chosen to populate New Earth Colony were a varied lot. They included the construction crews, people afraid that the Earth would have another disaster, clones of ancestors, and others. To assist with their survival, every inhabitant was fitted with implants and made a part of The Collective. The twenty-five ecosystems allowed inhabitants to travel easily to other regions and to transfer or vacation if they liked to another environment other than the one they were in.

The Sagan Array had not grown. After the Great Disaster, the Setiites were decimated. Fewer than 10,000 remained alive. The train of Albatrosses bringing receivers to the Array had stopped flowing. Hope was still alive among the devout, but no signal came. Gradually, the movement died out. By the turn of the 22nd Century, the Sagan Array was a historical artifact. While computers still analyzed the data the Array collected, virtually no one was listening. Everyone’s thoughts turned to another task. How to save the inhabitants of the Earth in the Solar System.

Five years later

Dom and Seala were pleased. Ferries from Earth were bringing plants, animals, birds, insects, and humans to populate New Earth Colony. Nearby, within two hundred miles, New Plymouth Colony was being built. It was an improvement over New Earth Colony, but the differences were slight. With each new colony built and inhabited, new lessons were learned and new ideas tried. It was an evolutionary process.

Moonscape, Marscape, the GanymedeSphere and EuropaSphere projects, and the new one on Titan remained harsh and unforgiving footholds on the Solar System. The colonies proved to be much more hospitable. With their close proximity to Earth, inhabitants were able to make frequent journeys back to their homeland. The Earth became a primary rest and recuperation site for the weary space worker. Safaris were conducted into the wilderness, but they left little or no imprint upon the land.

A remarkable thing had happened. Not only had Earth been restored, but it had also been dramatically changed. Prehistoric creatures now roamed among the 20th Century animals, adding a whole new chapter to evolution. The Great Plains of United States had changed the most. Great herds of buffalo still roamed the region; but now, because of the pile of rocks strewn for thousands of miles across the prairie, wild sheep and goats frequented the extended mountain range that spread well beyond the Mississippi River. Mammoths and mastodons also roamed here, along with giant musk oxen and three-toed horses. The wolves and cougar were joined by the saber toothed tiger and other predators of prehistoric origin. Like the Serengeti and High Steppes, the Great Debris Field had become a favorite attraction for animal lovers among Earth visitors.

Yellowstone remained the premier tourist site. The mountains at its rim had pushed upward, making the North Rim 22, 393 feet above sea level. The Great Valley was no less spectacular. While the molten core had filled in the gapping wound of the explosion, vertical cliffs exceeding 30,000 feet rimmed it on every side. It contained deserts, lava flows, geysers, hot lakes, hot rivers, canyons, and waterfalls of unrivaled variety, size and beauty. Much of it was below sea level. Plants and trees quickly reestablished a foothold on the shaky, hot ground. Animals moved in wherever it was cool enough to live. Because the Valley was completely isolated, it was thought of as a place to reintroduce dinosaurs. An experiment was underway to reintroduce prehistoric plants to be eaten by herbivores. It was succeeding.

The Federation plan was to create a sustainable human population in space that was not dependent entirely on the Earth. The realization that we were alone and very fragile, at least in the near universe, had sunk home with the Great Disaster. We had to save ourselves. The colonies were the first step.

Chapter 19

Reunion

Galactic Explorer Near Earth: 2159

Albert was driving with the windows down and the music up. Esther was by his side and they were singing at the top of their lungs. It seemed to go on forever, that warm humid night. But then, there was a crack of light. He was drawn to it. He seemed to leave Esther and the warm West Virginia night behind and float up towards the light. He opened his eyes.

The room was white—a warm, glowing white. He couldn’t discern the walls or a door. The white platform he lay upon was soft, but solid, and it blended seamlessly with the floor. Suddenly, an opening appeared in the white, and two familiar figures appeared.

“Dom! Seala! What’s going on?” Albert couldn’t believe his eyes. It was all so strange. He was calling to them without moving his mouth.

Seala answered. “Oh, Dad. You won’t believe this, but we brought you back! Anne and Ping froze you just after you died. They had your body shipped in a refrigerated container to Biotech Center, where it has been kept until now.”

“But you’re not at Biotech. You’re here, with us on the Galactic Explorer. It is a spaceship. It is a spaceship nothing like anything you ever dreamed. It has been one hundred and twenty-five years since your death. You have a lot of catching up to do. You probably noticed this room is strange. It’s stranger than you think. Its look is motivated by your imagination. We have given you implants so that you communicate with the ship, and with us, with just your thoughts.” Dominic felt he had to explain.

Albert sat up and discovered that he was naked under the gauze like sheet that covered him. He felt young. When he looked down he saw that he was. He wondered what he looked like and a mirror appeared, floating in front of him. The young man in the mirror appeared to be about twenty and looked just like him when he was that age. He blinked. Yes, the man in the mirror was he! He wanted something to wear. Suddenly, he was wearing the same white one-piece outfit that Dom and Seala were wearing. Dom was right. He could control things with his thoughts—How strange?

He dropped to his feet and found that he stood strong and steady. He hugged them both and cried. They all cried. How could this be?

“Do you want to see the others?” Seala couldn’t contain her excitement. “Come with us and we’ll show you.”

Albert clasped the hands of his children and followed them through the open door, down a long corridor, then through another door to a large room with many white tanks. In the first tank they came to, floating peacefully under the surface with eyes closed as if asleep, was Anne. Albert had never seen her like this. She was so young and beautiful. He was aghast.

“She’s a beauty isn’t she?” Seala had anticipated his thoughts.

“She sure is. But not the mature woman that I knew so well.” Albert still couldn’t believe his eyes.

“You forget that you’re younger too.” Dom was being reassuring. “She will be as surprised as you when she sees you.”

“How long?”

“Two more weeks. Then she will wake up in a room just like you just did. You will be there to meet her. We’ve got someone else for you to see, too. “Seala took his hand and led Albert to another tank. Ping was floating peacefully in it. She looked like a child.

“So many surprises. I don’t believe in heaven. But if there is one, this must be it.” Albert began to cry again.

Seala hugged him and comforted him. And then she took him by the arm. “Come,” she said. “Let us show you the rest. Then we’ll show you the rest of the ship.”

In a nearby white tank, Albert looked down and recognized the youthful face of Dr. Timothy Leary, one of the first to have himself frozen when he died. Smaller tanks contained labels: Carl Sagan, John Lennon, Albert Einstein, Elvis Presley, Samuel Clemens—there were too many to count. “These fetuses are clones. We hope they will have the creative thought processes of their fore bearers. They are developing naturally in embryonic fluid. Their creative output should help sustain us on our long journey.” Albert didn’t need Seala’s explanation, but he was still amazed. He did wonder a bit about the “journey”.

The 22nd century had brought new challenges and new hope. The Earth continued to evolve, and volcanic activity erupted from time to time. The Earth’s caretakers were pleased. Animal and plant life flourished in spite of changes in the land or in the weather. The new colonies grew and prospered, and many projects were started in every corner of the Solar System. While there were still great challenges posed by the heat of Venus, the gravity of Jupiter, the gravity and cold of the Ice Giants—Saturn, Neptune, and Uranus, and even how to approach Mercury, the mystery of how to sustain human life in outer space had been largely solved.

The Sagan Array and powerful telescopes in space had not yet found life. The more science found out about the Universe, the stranger it became and the less was known for certain. The Universe appeared both to be exploding an imploding at the same time. Some galaxies were receding at what appeared to be near the speed of light. While other galaxies seemed to be approaching nearly as fast. Most attention was focused on the Milky Way Galaxy. There were many stars in the nearby region that had planets. Some of these stars appeared to be as stable as the Sun. By 2150 an impressive array of colonies fanned out in Earth orbit around the Sun. The human population was secure in its new home, and thoughts turned outward beyond the Solar System. The Federation Earth launched a plan of exploration, discovery, and relief. The first vehicle created for the plan was the Galactic Explorer. Dominic was the chief designer and architect for the ship.

Experience with building the space colonies had shown that life could quite easily be sustained if ecological systems could be closed. The primary obstacle to deep space exploration would be fuel. However, recent instruments had found that dark matter was very prevalent in the Milky Way. Dark matter occupied the vast spaces between the stars. Some dark matter had been collected in the Oort Cloud. This matter was very strange. Its subatomic structure was found to contain quarks mirroring those in hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon atoms. Dark matter apparently was left over from the origin of the Universe and repellent to gravity. It was as close to antimatter as science had found.

The supercollider at Waxahachie became a shelter during the Great Disaster. When the survivors emerged to rebuild the Johnson Spacecraft Center, the supercollider was retrofitted with more powerful magnets. By the turn-of-the-century, the mystery of the quarks had been solved, and a new propulsion system using subatomic energy was proposed. The engine was basically a ram rocket capable of burning any kind of matter in its quark engines. The question posed was: Would it burn dark matter?

While dark matter was being investigated as a power source, its properties were found to be able to create gravity in weightless conditions. In twenty short years, research on dark matter went from using it to demonstrate parlor tricks to building workable models of vehicles with artificial gravity that could be varied from zero to 1 G and beyond. Tests using ram rockets and dark matter proved that dark matter could be a very efficient fuel for use in the vast distances between the stars.

The Galactic Explorer was designed to carry one million people and enough genetic material to recreate the Earth on distant planets. It was the first spaceship to be built like a living creature. To accomplish its mission, it was large — the size of the moon. Its skin was resilient, yet flexible. It was covered with a mucous like substance, a polymer that, when properly charged, gave off a soft white, iridescent glow. All matter, large or small, that struck the viscous surface was absorbed by it, and then carried to a collection point inside the ship where it was analyzed, sorted, and put to use. Excess matter was either burned in the ram rocket or discharged in small packets.

The Senses had developed to the point that they contained neural networks of living tissue that operated electronic and mechanical equipment with or without human intervention. The Galactic Explorer was capable of charting its own course, avoiding obstacles, and even destroying small objects that might present a threat to the vehicle. The Senses had become an integral part of The Collective. The Senses were charged with carrying out The Universal Intelligence. So, with the construction of the Galactic Explorer, the three components of advanced human intelligence were merged. The occupants of the Galactic Explorer were the first to benefit from the merging of these three components into a living vessel of their own imagination.

Inside, the Senses provided much more. After the mystery of the anti quarks in dark matter had been unraveled, they were put to use providing gravity fields within the ship. The occupants could, with their minds, provide the desired gravity for any situation. The interior was also made completely sensory. Occupants could change their surroundings to be what they imagined. It was possible for two people to be in the same space, and each of them to have a different view of it. The Senses made sure that the fragile human body was comfortable regardless of the situation. Because humans had evolved facing the rigorous changes of the Earth’s environment, the same range of sensory experience was readily available to the occupants. Random selection of Earth environments made sure that the occupants would never get homesick in some strange, artificial world.

Galactic Explorer was parked in a near Earth orbit around the Sun a half million miles from the New Earth Colony. It had, for some time now, created another, smaller moon in the night sky. Researchers on Earth and at SpaceWorks were intrigued by what the second moon would do to natural cycles based on the Moon. It was assumed that most of these effects were caused by the Moon’s gravity and not by its appearance in the night sky. Because of its location, Galactic Explorer had no gravitational effects on the Earth.

The journey they were about to embark upon would be a long one. In all probability, they would never return. Before they left, they felt it essential that they return to Mother Earth one last time before bidding her goodbye, forever. Dom, Seala, Albert, Anne and Ping boarded a ferry and returned home. As the earth grew larger, tears welled up in Albert’s eyes.

“This is so strange. I can’t believe this. Look at her! She is so beautiful, so peaceful, and so benign from here in space. I’ve always dreamed of seeing her this way. Now that I am, it’s going to be hard to leave her behind.”

Seala had her arm around her Dad’s shoulder. “Oh, you might be surprised. She’s changed. I’m sure you’ll recognize the New Wilderness and the ranch, but so many other familiar landmarks are gone. She’s more the way you dreamed she could be.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ll want to stay and watch her evolve.”

Dom stepped in. “Seala and I have been out there. Believe me, in spite of the boredom of a long journey, there’s nothing like being the first to arrive at some distant place no one has ever been before. It will grow on you, and it will make you want to seek new adventure. There will be no need to go back.”

Anne squeezed his arm from her side. “Dom is right. We had a long run here on Earth. We did well. You weren’t here to witness nature trying to destroy us. I will download my memory of it to you so you will see how we suffered and survived. Now we’ve got a second chance. I want to see our old friend as much as you, Honey. Let’s wait and see what you say when we leave.”

Albert held his two girls close. The Earth was looming ahead. Soon, they would be entering her atmosphere.

They landed at a familiar location. Dulles was still there, but it seemed smaller. The sky dock was larger. Airships were still in vogue, but they were bigger. They took one immediately upon landing. The Airship Stargazer was huge and more luxurious than Albert remembered. On the way to Johnson Spacecraft Center, they were carried less than a thousand feet above the countryside. The first thing he saw was the ruins of the old capital; its monuments rising above the wildlife refuge that the Potomac estuary had become. Dom said that it had become a major tourist attraction.

The complex in Central Virginia reminded him of futuristic cities he had seen in the holos. There were gleaming towers and spires with bridges between, buzzing with all manner of aircraft like bees about a hive. This was the new District of Columbia, seat of The United States of Federation Earth. It was much smaller than the old DC. No capitol building was visible in the skyline.

As they approached the familiar eastern slopes of the Appalachians, what struck Albert most was the absence of houses. He remembered the trip that he and Dom and taken by car along this way. He remembered how overpopulated the slopes had been. Now, they had become wilderness again. He didn’t know if the houses had been torn down, or if they had been overgrown by brush or trees

In one of many clearings, he spotted a large herd of dark animals. “Bison?”

“Yes,” Dom replied. “They are Eastern Wood Bison. They were among the first animals reintroduced after the Great Disaster to help keep the eastern forests from becoming too dense and too much of a fire hazard. Deer and wild pigs do the rest. Pigs were some of the best survivors. So were raccoons and possum.”

“What about all those houses?”

“Most of them are still there. See those mounds over there? A thick layer of ash entombed them. Some made great shelter for animals. Most have rotted to almost nothing. The rest are overgrown with trees and vines.”

At least the mountains looked the same. Albert was glad to see that many of the lakes and rivers of the Tennessee Valley Authority were still there, too. He didn’t know if they were producing electricity, but he knew the dammed lakes were a source of teeming wildlife. Here and there, gleaming domes signaled human habitation. Most cities, towns, and villages looked abandoned. The Mississippi still flowed through Memphis, but the city was in ruin.

Arkansas showed signs of devastation. Large rocks occasionally littered the landscape. Albert was preparing himself for what was to come. As they neared Waxahachie, he was surprised to see the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex in ruins. It looked like something from a science-fiction holo. And he couldn’t believe the trees.

There were so many trees. He didn’t remember so many trees in the vicinity of Dallas.

The space complex at Waxahachie looked neat and normal. They docked. Anne, Ping, and he toured the complex while Dom and Seala attended an important meeting in preparation for their upcoming mission.

The meeting didn’t last long. Dom, as chief designer and architect of Galactic Explorer was questioned by a team of experts about the viability of the untested ship and their mission. Dom reassured them that the craft had been tested because all of the elements had been contained in earlier exploration ships and the colonies. As for their mission, he reaffirmed that he was immortal and that he saw his purpose to extend human life beyond the Earth to the stars. He implored the Federation to build other Explorers and continue the search. He also assured them that the personnel he had on board were fully capable of building duplicates to the Galactic Explorer if they had the resources. They were also fully capable of establishing Earth-like life on any suitable planet.

Seala, as chief human-resources officer, was questioned about the viability of confining a million people on an indeterminable space mission. She responded by saying that Earth, except for the Moon and Sun in its sky, was similar to the Galactic Explorer. She assured them that the mix of people selected and the variety of stimulus provided would keep them from becoming bored or disillusioned with the journey or their mission. Relying on Dom for confirmation, she felt that the challenge and excitement of exploring a known part of the nearby Universe close-up would be similar to studying the way Earth has evolved. She concluded that the elements of The Universal Intelligence, The Collective, and The Senses, would keep them steadfast on their mission and guide them through any challenges that might appear.

From Waxahachie, they took a smaller, Yellowstone tour ship with an added side trip to the ranch. Their journey over what had once been Oklahoma and the Great Plains became very exciting. They started seeing rocks just north of the ruins of the Metroplex. They were few at first, but gradually, more and more appeared on the horizon. Rocks upon rocks had changed the role and nature of the land. Its ridges, valleys, and arroyos became what their tour guides affectionately called “The Rock Pile”. Below, between the rocks, the prairie still bloomed. Occasionally, a huge black herd of buffalo would be seen. Between those spread out herds, smaller brown groups of elk, antelope, or what appeared to be African gazelles and wildebeests grazed. Groups of mammoths were also seen occasionally. The sky was filled with hawks, eagles and buzzards. Near lakes and rivers, large flocks of birds filled the sky and colored the land and water with moving patterns.

With their telescopic vision, they saw packs of wolves, coyotes, cougars, foxes and saber toothed tigers. Grizzlies and black bear roamed these regions too. Goats and sheep found the rocks ideal habitat, as did baboons, monkeys, and many small rodents and birds seeking safe nesting places. Albert was almost overwhelmed with what he was seeing. The Rock Pile had proved to be one of the most productive animal kingdoms on the Earth.

Occasionally, domes in the distance announced human habitation. It was from these outposts that wild fruit, seeds, and plants were gathered, and animals were hunted for the cities. As the Rockies loomed in the distance, and the ruins of Denver reminded them of Dallas, they docked at one of these outposts. Armed with heavy tranquilizer guns against large predators, they took a 3-day trail ride amid rocks and boulders the size of their airship. Seeing prehistoric animals up close was a thrill no holo could provide. The sky was filled with birds nesting on the cliffs the rocks created. The night was filled with strange sounds mingling with the familiar coyote yelp, wolf howl, and hoot of the owl. Fortunately, an electronic shield protected their horses and camp. Otherwise, a tiger might steal into the camp and kill the horses. Life on the prairie was much more dangerous in the 22nd than in the primitive 19th Century.

They embarked again on their main mission, Yellowstone. Skirting the Rockies north of the ruins of the eastern Rockies settlements, they moved out over Wyoming and a jumble of rocks of biblical proportions. Here too, there was much wildlife. But it tended to be of the mountain variety. The terrain was just too rough for most grazing animals. Goats and sheep thrived here. Beyond the jumble of rocks was a sight that reminded Albert more of Alaska than what he knew of the United States. A broad, towering mountain more than half covered with perpetual snow. They were forced into the pressurized areas of the ship as it climbed to 25,000 ft. and over the edge of the super volcano known as Yellowstone.

If the side of the mountain itself had been daunting, the cliffs reaching into the interior of the huge crater were spectacular. It looked like a scene from a science fiction drawing, but it was a real. Cliffs ranging from ten to thirty thousand feet cascaded to the floor of the crater. Everywhere along the rim, melting snow and ice created waterfalls that disappeared into clouds long before they reached the crater floor. It was into this huge hole that their ship gently descended, giving everyone spectacular views of the waterfalls and the rainbows they created. After they had descended 5,000 feet, the pressurization was turned off, and they were able to go out onto the decks and feel the cool, thin air become warmer and more humid.

Unlike Death Valley and her sisters, the valley of Yellowstone was not arid. The constant flow of water into the great valley created many lakes and rivers, shimmering through the clouds. When they reached the valley floor, it was unlike anything Albert had ever seen. It was hot, but the humidity kept the temperature at about 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Great ferns, vines, and flowering plants competed with huge trees over 300 ft. high for every inch of land that was not water or steep slopes. Everywhere, there were mud pits, sulfurous pools, and geysers spouting water and steam hundreds of feet into the air. It was like Jules Verne’s vision of the land at the center of the Earth. They docked at another gleaming outpost, and descended to the facilities.

They were in, what was essentially, a tourist hotel. It was air-conditioned and filled with interesting things to do and amenities. Outside was that wild and dangerous place, filled with adventure and excitement, for those who wished to take the chance. There were air tours, water tours, and land excursions. They stayed three weeks and sampled all three. The air tours used small fliers that flew easily through the heavy air and landed at various preplanned locations. There were close-up views of waterfalls where you could get out and stand under water that had fallen over 20,000 feet. Amazingly, it was still cool, as cold as the ice that made it. You could stand at the edge of lava flows that had flowed for over 20 years. You could float low over multicolored pools, too dangerous to walk upon, and savor the smells and sights of the old Yellowstone multiplied many times over.

Powerboats quickly whisked tourists across the great lakes and up and down the great rivers. Some were too hot to sustain fish. The rivers from the waterfalls were teeming with trout. Some of the tepid lakes contained huge bass, gar, and other warm water fish. Alligators thrived here. Cold-water lakes had the familiar cutthroat trout, lake trout, and Arctic grayling. It was a very strange place.

Amphibious, off-road vehicles carried the most adventurous tourists to spectacular campgrounds deep in the interior of the jungle forests that now covered the valley. Here, insects, birds, snakes, small mammals and other reptiles thrived in the tropical rain forest-like environment. An experiment with reintroducing dinosaurs was taking shape with mixed results. Some herbivores were introduced that were very destructive and quickly decimated forests with their ravenous appetites. They had to be destroyed. Some carnivores introduced to control herbivores were too dangerous for human tourists and had to be destroyed. In an environment as small and newly formed as this, even one bad insect could destroy the entire ecosystem. Scientists were proceeding with caution. They hadn’t yet found a balance that would allow dinosaurs to thrive. Besides, breaks in the crater’s east side could possibly allow creatures from this ecosystem to escape onto the rest of the Continent.

Thoroughly thrilled by the New Yellowstone, Albert and the others were amazed to see the ranch still standing. It had changed. The ranch house, barns, and bunkhouse were gone, but its water and natural gas supply made it ideal as an outpost. The mountain towered to its south, but the rocks had not fallen here in great numbers like they had further east. It was still manned by Blackfoot and Mandan Indians. Anne and Albert were enthralled by their stories of survival.

Everyone took an early morning ride on the ridge. It was much the same as it was during Albert’s 120th birthday so many years before. The open range was ageless. Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of it there in the solitude, Anne on a horse by his side. He drank it in. He would never be back in this lifetime.

From the ranch, they took a small jet to Marquette. At Mach 3, it took less than an hour. The high prairie below was much like they had already seen. They were told that mammoths and mastodons were more prevalent here in the north. They could still see the herds of buffalo from 30,000 feet. Occasionally, smoke would rise from fires set by late summer storms. Unchecked, they burned until they ran out of fuel or a rainstorm put them out. Over Minnesota, the prairie gave way to a sea of green forest dotted with lakes shimmering in the sun. Albert’s anticipation rose. He was glad that he was on a fast plane. Two familiar great lakes covered the horizon as they descended to land at the shiny new Marquette Station, Crossroads to the Great Lakes.

They were surprised to find that State Route 28 still existed. It was used to ferry people and supplies to the Superior-Duluth Station and access to Porcupine Mountain and the Northern UP. After conferring with authorities, they rented a Brushwhacker for the trip rather than flying in. Brushwackers were used to open old roads to periodically harvest timber, wild rice, berries, honey, animals, and other products of the wilderness. They were completely self-contained, and had a range of a thousand miles on a single charge of their fuel cells.

The road was smooth and wide, winding through virgin forests, pristine lakes, two burned areas, and the path of a recent tornado. There had never been so many wild birds and animals. They slowed to twenty just to take it all in. They were in no hurry. Ishpeming was still there and they passed through it, but the town was only a ruin. Tears once again welled up at the sight of Martha’s sign, faded and hanging from the marquee of the gaping, windowless building. Many buildings were gone altogether, swallowed by the forest. Only familiar trees remained, some larger and more stately than he’d ever seen. There were unfamiliar landmarks, too. Here and there, huge boulders and rocks rose above the forest and commanded attention. Anne and Ping remembered them well. How shocked they had been when they emerged from the volcanic winter and found them in the new landscape.

Although it hadn’t been used in many years, the road in was easy to find. The hulk of the All Wheel was visible through the rotten timbers of its fallen shelter at the entrance. The sight of it once again stirred emotion in all who had used her. Going in was slowed by four to six inch in diameter saplings that had grown up since the last time the old road was opened. The Brushwhacker was very efficient in dispatching these obstacles, as well as pushing aside or cutting through any deadfall across their path.

By mid afternoon, they crested the last ridge and the lake came into view. The beavers had been busy. A new dam and houses had increased its size and look. Trees were growing up from and through the log cabin that had been home. Anne cried openly at the sight. Everyone was filled with memories and emotion. Winter snow and time had flattened the greenhouse and sheds. Albert poked through the remains like some old junkyard, but left everything in place. Anne and Ping had long removed all mementos from the cabin. What remained was a part of the wilderness.

They spent a week in the sun, relaxing, catching fish, taking walks, gazing at the stars, making love and listening to the wolves howl and the owls hoot at night. And then, they returned.

They boarded a ferry in Marquette for Pod Exchange 3 in stationary orbit. From there, they took a pod back to the Galactic Explorer. As she receded from view, Albert stared, his arms around his girls, Anne and Ping, his mind filled with thoughts and memories of Mother Earth. As a young man, he never cried. In the few short weeks since his rebirth as a young man, he had cried many times. Tears welled once more.

He knew he would not see her again.

Chapter 20

A Promising Planet

The Galactic Explorer in the Milky Way: 2273

A.D.

It was lonely out here between the stars. Dom knew it. Seala knew it. The Collective knew it. Were they the only ones? It had been over a hundred years since they had that last, fading holo from Earth. Although they were traveling at near the speed of light, the Galaxy seemed endless—the Universe beyond comprehension.

The Senses had served them well, steering them away from black holes, super novae, and the like. They had evolved. It was not a physical evolution of species; it was an evolution of The Universal Intelligence. All these great minds had not been idle. The Collective encompassed everyone. The Collective continued to pose and solve problems that all the institutions back on Earth could never dream of or work on. The tenets of Seti’s first draft of The Universal Intelligence remained true, but they had been amended—upgraded many times.

They now knew that life could take many forms and survive in conditions unknown in the Solar System. They had seen the creatures that inhabited the iridescent green pools on the second planet of Star G2V-271. The star was a bit larger than the Sun, and a bit older. It was the sixth star with a planetary system that they had encountered. Star G2V-271 had five planets and showed some promise. It took twenty years to slow their course and match orbits with the second planet. It was on an elliptical orbit approximating the Earth’s and had surface water like Earth. Its land mass was iron, silicates, carbon, a range of other minerals. Its atmosphere was primarily of nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and oxygen. Unfortunately, the air was unbreathable. It also contained traces of carbon monoxide, hydrogen chloride, methane, and sulfur dioxide that made it lethal to humans. Intrigued, they had to go there and see if life existed in this near-Earth environment.

From orbit, the planet appeared to be a rocky, volcanic, and inhospitable place. Glowing, heavy green clouds obscured much of the surface, blocking their view. The Senses found abundant life, but it was unknown and unseen. They orbited the planet for some time, intrigued by its green glow. Here and there, glimpses through the clouds showed them a black, craggy landscape and deep green, iridescent oceans. The planet rotated slower than the earth. Each day was 67.35 Earth hours long. The Senses showed that the many life forms became very active just after the dawn of a new day.

Both the atmosphere and the seas contained a kind of plant life that glowed a phosphorescent green. It appeared to be the primary food source for life on the planet. Analysis of its density showed that the plant grew rapidly during the daylight hours and slowly disappeared at night.

This suggested that the unknown life forms ate the plant at night when the average temperature at the surface appeared to be about 87 degrees Fahrenheit. The high activity at dawn appeared to be animal life taking advantage of cooler conditions before the average temperature soared to about 117 degrees Fahrenheit in the middle of the long day.

Dom and Seala were very intrigued by this strange planet and its life. The Senses had not picked up any indication of intelligence. In fact, the life forms there appeared to be very primitive. Still, the spirit of adventure was in them, and they decided to launch a landing party. The Omnilander was a very versatile and tough craft, tested on many landings on solar objects large and small. Since the green planet was much like Earth, there would be no trouble for the Omnilander to land and take off. A crew of 20 was selected to go and an excursion party of five was selected to walk on the surface and get a firsthand view of the life there. They decided to land at night just before dawn, so they would have the best chance of seeing the animal life when it was most active. It was impossible to gauge the excitement The Collective felt. This was the first planet the occupants of the Galactic Explorer would visit. They could hardly wait until the Omnilander launched.

It took only a half hour for the Omnilander to enter the green planet’s atmosphere and chase the dawn to the landing site. The landing site was a relatively flat beachhead next to one of the larger seas. Everything went as planned, and Commander Keyley brought her in precisely where The Senses had selected. It was 15 minutes before dawn. The Omnilander’s powerful lights pierced the gloom of the yellow-green fog and picked up black rocky elements of the shoreline and the glow of the deep green sea, but nothing appeared to be moving.

Dom and Seala suited with three others making up the excursion party, and entered the airlock at the base of the craft. They planned to spend a couple of hours examining life forms, gathering data, and collecting samples to take a back with them to the Galactic Explorer. Depending on what they had found, they would either stay longer or make more trips. It all depended upon what the planet had to offer.

The ramp door lowered, breaking the seal and allowing the green planet’s lethal atmosphere to roll in. With Dom at the lead, they walked out into the darkness of a new planet on a distant stellar system. All was still and quiet. Their suit lights pierced the gloom and revealed their surroundings.

The viscous sea was a mixture of tar and water, turned green by glowing organisms that looked like algae. It was calm and eerie, except for places where the glowing plants seemed to be disappearing before their eyes. They were standing on a black, rocky shore, similar to a beach after a major oil spill. The empty, rugged terrain was also black and filled with twisted, tortured outcroppings like those left by volcanic eruptions. Except for the disappearing algae, nothing was moving—their sensors sensed nothing.

A yellow glow appeared on the horizon. It was the dawn coming. The party watched in awe as ever so slowly, the dawn broke for them over the ocean on this alien shore. A sigh rose among The Collective. It was spell binding— beautiful. It was also a trigger.

Suddenly, the ocean was filled with creatures, large and small, in many varieties with glowing eyes and many forms of camouflage. They were all in the process of eating each other. Something like the algae was also floating in the heavy, warm air, creating the glowing green clouds. Flying creatures like lizards with wings darted in and out of the clouds, feeding on them. It was surreal.

Creatures also slithered out of cracks in the rock and were soon crawling over every inch of the craggy landscape. The brief walk for five out in the Earth-like gravity almost turned fatal.

“Look at that! Have you ever seen anything like it?” Seala’s memory was absorbing the seething scene in the green gook before them. The sight mesmerized her. A six-inch long cockroach-like thing jumped onto her leg from behind. She didn’t see it, but she did feel its searing pain.

Dom was looking the other way. “We’d better get out of here! They’re coming over that outcropping behind us in hoards!”

The party turned as one and ran for the ramp they had just descended. Thousands of slithering, creeping, crawling, hopping, jumping, and running creatures were closing on them fast. There were too many and they were too fast to shoot.

In a mass, five terrified bodies slammed into the back wall of the small airlock chamber and fell in a heap as the ramp rose behind them. They were not alone.

“Get them off … get them off me!” Seala screamed as Dom tore at a half dozen little monsters that had locked their teeth and talons into the fabric of her suit. He could feel some gripping his body in several places like a vice.

The battle lasted several bloody minutes. By using fists, slamming their bodies against the walls, and shooting them with their guns at close range, they subdued all thirty-three creatures that had followed them in. The crew restored air immediately. The fresh air proved fatal to the beasts. It was a good thing, because, had their suits been compromised out there in that atmosphere, they would have been the ones who died.

Still bleeding and exhausted, they had to isolate the dead creatures in canisters and disinfect everything else before they could enter the interior. It took several minutes.

The crew was having its own problems. Seeing the battle ensuing in the airlock, they thought of introducing a lethal gas. They decided on air when they saw the suit damage taking place. They were terrified for their comrades but powerless to help, afraid to open the hatch. While they were concentrating on saving their comrades, the hoards quickly engulfed the ship.

Once the foul air had been completely exchanged and the dead creatures safely encased in the canisters, Dom searched the airlock for anything that they may have missed. They were all wounded in some way or another, so the place was a bloody mess. They used their sensitive sensing devices to scour the interior, looking for microbes or small creatures that might have escaped their eyes. Fortunately, they found none. They were hurting, so Commander Keyley decided to open the hatch and let them in.

By this time there was a new crisis. Alarms were going off all over as Keyley and the crew saw that the cameras were becoming obscured with thousands of creepy, crawly creatures. The ship’s mass and weight had increased immensely as millions of the animals crawled all over its exterior. Keyley wanted to stay on the planet until they were sure that the excursion crew was okay and that it was safe to leave, but he had no choice. They blasted off.

The Senses had to compensate for all the extra weight, but they did, and the Omnilander moved quickly up through the green fog toward orbit. The creatures could be seen scabbing off the lens of the cameras and the windows as they accelerated and gained altitude. Some hung on until they had reached the near vacuum of space; then, they too, succumbed and fell off.

The excursion crew made their way to the medical room. Once there, being treated by the medical officer, they started to talk about their experience. “Oh, that hurt! I couldn’t believe it! Those bastards sure were fast! And tenacious too! They grabbed on like they’d never let go!” Seala was probably the most injured. She was also the most vocal, screaming, “Those bastards! Those bastards! I thought we weren’t gonna make it!”

“If I’d known it was going to be like that, I never would have allowed us to go out on the surface,” cried Dom. “I’ve learned my lesson. As far as life goes, we need to observe it for a while before we get involved with it. I’m shocked that even with our vast sensing ability, we didn’t foresee that this would happen.” Dom was already solving the problem as a medic worked on a five-inch slash in his arm that appeared to be an inch deep.

“You immortals are a marvel. This cut is already starting to heal.” Suzanne, the medical officer, was amazed. “If you had died out there, and we had retrieved you with the remote arm, you’d probably be coming back the life right here in front of me!”

“I’m glad we aren’t finding out.” Dom’s mind was already on something else—the creatures in the canisters.

Even before they caught up with the Galactic Explorer and entered her docking bay, Dom was using instruments to reveal the contents of the canisters. Of the thirty-three creatures they caught, there appeared to be seventeen varieties. Most of them had exoskeletons and jointed legs made for running. They all had two eyes, ear openings, mouths with teeth, and talons or claws for gripping. They had stomachs and digestive tracts. Some had tails for balance and break away escape. Some had skeletal features that resembled armor. In all appearances, they appeared very Earth-like. Later, when they were taken out and dissected, they were found to contain DNA similar to prehistoric creatures on earth.

The glowing substance that gave the water and the air its distinctive green color appeared to be a phosphorescent amoeba similar to plankton. It appeared to be the primary food source for herbivores that were not among the sample in the canisters. The amoeba apparently grew rapidly during the long hot day with energy from the sun and the rich soup of hydrocarbons beneath. During the long night, the water and atmosphere cooled, allowing the herbivores to feed on the amoeba. At dawn, carnivores suddenly became active, and embarked on a feeding frenzy of herbivores and other carnivores. Observations from orbit showed that the feeding frenzy lasted only about a half hour. After that, the carnivores appeared to retreat to the cracks and crevices in the rock and deep into the sea to rest, digest, and escape the heat of day.

As the Galactic Explorer slowly accelerated to its maximum velocity toward the next star system selected for observation, the occupants had something new to discuss and ponder. They had found life, albeit primitive, on a distant planet on a distant star. It gave them hope. Hope that life would be abundant, and hope that life would not be too dissimilar to theirs to be understood. They began to believe that before they found life more advanced than they, they would find intelligent life more primitive. They looked forward to that prospect with the most hope. It would prove that they were not alone. Encountering more advanced life was equally possible, but more daunting. They wouldn’t know until it actually happened and were already communicating. The Universal Intelligence Tenth Tenet proved that advanced intelligent life would reveal itself before being sensed.

As the years passed and they encountered more stellar systems, they found more green planets, more red planets, and more yellow planets. It was too time-consuming to slow the Galactic Explorer to visit each one. Instead, their experience with that first green planet helped them develop sensors and automated ships that were sent to investigate remotely and report back. Using this approach, they gathered immense knowledge about planets, how they developed, and how life developed upon them. Just as had been theorized, life was abundant. Intelligent life was another matter. Although some planets had evolved considerably complex life systems, most could not compare with the Earth, and intelligent animals were not found to be common. Planets like Earth, geologically active, proved to be the most productive of life. Unfortunately, they were prone to extinction events like the Great Disaster. Everyone knew that destructive technologies in the hands of immature intelligence could cause extinctions or regressions.

The ship, too, was not static. It was evolving. Not only was The Collective’s scientific basis for intelligence being updated and altered by the new knowledge coming from each passing stellar system, they were busy creating new technology and understanding just as they had always done on Earth. This Galactic Explorer, while it contained the essence of the one that left Earth, was becoming an entirely new entity. So were its passengers.

Dom, Ping, and Albert were among the creators of new technology. Some of the new technology enabled Earth-like environments to be created for the enjoyment and entertainment of the occupants. There was endless variety. People could age if they wanted. They could even die. They could be reborn. They could be cloned. They could grow old, and then be rejuvenated. All enjoyed a happy, healthy sex life. There was no shame. There was no jealousy. There was no possessiveness.

While Albert found his heart beating wildly for this nymph of a flower child that he called “My Anne, sweetest of Honeys,” He enjoyed Ping as much for her exotic looks and lovemaking skills. Seala reminded him most of Esther, although Esther was now but a figment of another memory, another time.

Seala, too, had changed. Her encounter with the seething creatures that had sought to eat her gave her a new zest for life. Sometimes, she couldn’t distinguish between Albert and Dominic when making love. This was both interesting and intriguing. After all, they were from the same genetic line. To Albert’s delight, sometimes she’d wear matching red bra and panties, contrasting blouse and mini skirt, and a college crest blazer. Then, they’d drive her Monte Carlo through the moist warm air of the West Virginia Hills at dusk—windows down and 8-track up. They’d make love in the car by some bubbling stream in the moonlight. Oh, how she enjoyed having him take those clothes off!

Seala sampled often from the wide variety of humankind riding their world. There was no fear of disease, childbirth, or repercussions from some misguided moral tenet. The Universal Intelligence merely stated that sex was good.

The ancient rhythms of Earth that gave birth to the concept of time, in time dimmed in importance. While Earth cycles were maintained, life on the Galactic Explorer was endless, almost timeless. Still, the primary mission was not diminished: to find intelligent life and relieve it. Here, half way across the Milky Way, they had found stars, stellar systems, and planets that seemed promising. They had even found life in great variety and abundance. They had found intelligent life. But they had not found intelligence that would require relief.

A lot of thought had been given to how they would communicate if they found intelligent beings on some distant planet. These beings would most certainly have the ability to telecommunicate. But would sending them a holo be enough to convince them that we came in peace and with an extraordinary mission in mind? No—a better way had to be found. If these beings were like humans—and all the evidence suggested they would be—then they would react in panic if something like the Galactic Explorer appeared suddenly in their sky or in their medium of communication. The best minds on the ship were put to the task of how to contact without causing fear or panic. Studies of life on the known planets showed that hunters always became the most intelligent. Hunters used their eyes to gather information for the hunt, and then processed that information in a way that made them successful. Eyes were directly connected to the visual cortex of brains, large and small. It was through the eyes that everyone agreed contact should be made. But, what would the mechanism be?

The Collective agreed that all beings on a planet should receive the essential relief information at the same time. It was also agreed that the information should be used to enlighten rather than frighten. How could they do this? In order to cover an entire planet at the same time, it would take three transmitters. Since half of the planet would be in darkness of night, how would they get the inhabitants to look at the transmitters? The answer was to provide something that was familiar for them to look at, but unfamiliar enough for them to want to stare at it. The moon came to mind. If they placed an object like the moon in the day or night sky, and made it highly visible, then people would stare at it.

Once the inhabitants were staring at the object, it would be relatively easy to target each one and project The Universal Intelligence directly into their eyes—directly into their brains. Albert liked to call it, The Kaleidoscope Effect, after the images in the child’s toy. Assuming that the inhabitants had and used telecommunications, all these means would be used to get them outside to look to the object in their view. Based on the human model, it would take about 15 minutes to transmit the necessary information to each brain. Those that could not, for any reason, observe the object in the sky would be brought out by those that had already been enlightened. Once the entire population had been enlightened and relieved, it would be possible to physically land and contact them directly.

And so it was decided. They set about designing a beam projector that would transmit light and information on the light. The projector would have to target millions of eyes simultaneously. The projector also would have to target both eyes on each individual, doubling its rate of projection. They also set about building the craft to carry the projector. With no other models to work from, they chose the Earth’s moon. Using scale models, the designs were tested and perfected. Everything appeared to work well. All they needed was a promising planet.

Norma Arm, Milky Way Galaxy: 16,578 Years Later

It would be easy to say that they were discouraged. But they were not. Finding life everywhere was encouraging, even though it was not what they had expected to find. They could have targeted many planets, but they waited, watched, and listened. They watched for a laser beam or some other signal pointed toward them. They listened for the slightest sound … the “tap, tap, tapping” of a simple telegraph or other electrical device indicating a technological intelligence was transmitting. They heard—saw—none.

So they continued to pass many planets by until they had reached this concentration of newer stars half way to the Galactic Center. None of these nearby systems were sending signals either. However, on the other side of the Center, composed largely of older stars, were a number of stars as vast as those they had already passed. It was from this vantage point, that The Senses made the discovery. Albert, trained as an astronomer, was ever watchful of the vast data The Senses were pulling in. Lost in the millions of stars in the mid outer bands they were observing on the other side, a star matching Earth’s Sun emerged some 29,867 light years distant. Star G2V-2058712 was only an outline at first, but as the data came in, the mass, composition, density, color and light spectrum seemed to match the Sun perfectly. Many stars were similar, but Albert had never seen a perfect match like this before.

The Collective was excited and intrigued. Projects were begun to see if they could improve the ship’s perception so they could view the star more closely and determine if it had planets. After many years of intense work, they succeeded. Although they didn’t have all the pieces, they determined that the star was probably identical to the Sun, and that it had seven planets with orbits that matched those of Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Earth, and Venus. Each piece of the puzzle had them more intrigued, more excited. Were they looking at a solar system like their own? Or were they looking in the mirror? They knew the Earth lay behind them. The powerful sensors they had developed could still see it. That’s why what lay ahead so intrigued them. It would take time to know.

Dom and Seala turned off gravity and floated to the stellar system model taking shape in the large chamber. It was a comforting sight, this stellar system. Except for a few missing smaller planets and moons, it appeared to be exactly like the Earth’s Solar System. Even more intriguing was the second planet. With its blue oceans, brown land masses, and white cloud cover, it appeared to be exactly like Earth. It was too soon to tell, but the evidence suggested that it was the same size, mass, inclination, and on the same orbit as Mother Earth. The resemblance was unnerving and uncanny. How could there be another planet that matched her so precisely? They did not know. There were too many questions.

Until a more promising planet was found, or until they heard that faint tapping sound, they would head for this one. Dom put his arm around Seala as they drifted away together. Dom couldn’t help thinking, “Is this it? Are we really alone? Are we looking at us?” He shuddered at the thought. Seala felt his concern. The Collective felt his concern. Seala held him tighter in reassurance. Only time would tell.

About the Author

Ronald W. Hull is an administrator at Texas Southern University in Houston, Texas. A spinal cord injury during surgery when he was twenty changed the course of his life, but not his resolve to study and use technology. Ron is the author of many technical articles, an award winning energy conservation plan, and a poem a week on his website, http://www.users.ev1.net/~behnguyen/. Mr. Hull’s first book, Hanging by a Thread, recounts his struggle to overcome the effects of losing physical ability as aging deteriorates what is left of his spinal cord. His second book, the science fiction novel, The Kaleiodoscope Effect, was a finalist in the Bookbooters eBook of the Year Award 2000-2001 and provided the inspiration for this work.

Ron resides in Houston with his helper and companion, Beh.

The End