Re-genesis

- Euclid and Patrist-Newton sat, sipping distilled algal-wine from small onyx tumblers, occasionally looking in to where a child slept. “Cobalt remains well.?”

Euclid nodded. “Indeed.”

Clunking his tumbler upon the stone table, Newton spoke, “In answer to your query, yes, the Quorum finally concurred. Initiation of an alternative landmass is essential.” Retrieving his drink, he continued. “Despite deep eco-cycling, soil fertility decreases by 0.024% per yield, and water cycling retention is diminished by 0.016cc/per liter per annum.” Newton’s grim eyes were lost in thought.

“And what then of their selection?”

“The original candidate, GS-677. Probes indicate favorable soil habilitation with biostasis and marginal suitability for human life inside protective domes. Fresh water is present in sands. Oceanic toxicity remains elevated.” Looking at Euclid he stated, “Once regenesis is established, we transport personnel. Genetic modulators will be sent along with nanominers soon. The timeframe remains uncertain, but we are a decade out from habitability.” Newton’s gaze moved to the child. “Additionally, the next class of progeny may well be our last full gestational cycle. Already we are selecting for a more diminutive offspring.” Unconsciously he scanned Euclid’s stature.

“Of course.” Euclid scoffed. “Why not bioneer selective de-evolution back to Australopithecines?” He drained his shot and clunked it down. “This Quorum wages a frantic battle to preserve humanity from itself.” He shook his head. “Our proclivity to self-annihilation is intricately fused to the same gene as self-preservation.” He moderated, seeing consternation cross Newton’s face. “Our remnant of humanity seems destined to evolve for no other end than to secure its final destruction.” Euclid let out an exasperated breath. “Thus, The Desecration.” He paused and looked toward Cobalt. “And yet we continue to survive, we continue to propagate, continue to hope.” Smiling affectionately at the child, he turned to Newton and raised the carafe. “Apparently, I am no different. Another? To celebrate?”

Newton pushed his tumbler. “To celebrate.”

“To our diminutive offspring, and the regenesis of our original dream, even if it is three centuries late.”

Newton assessed his mentor. “The new landmass will require a genominator. I have proposed Cobalt be mentored for that position. The Quorum has agreed to consider him, despite his questionable parentage.” Newton laughed at Euclid’s scowl, but continued. “I would take charge of him as his patrist, and bring him on occasion, but the longer he is sheltered from the Quorum’s direct control, the better for all concerned.” Newton locked eyes with Euclid. “A growing element of fear that we may already have waited too long has strengthened our position. As you know, fear turns folly to virtue. Cheers.”

Euclid frowned. “They are not as benign as you think, this Quorum.”

Newton looked skeptical.

Euclid stared back. “Courage requires hope . . . and faith. Cowardice requires only fear.”

* * *

The next morning, Euclid, in his quiet manner, addressed Cobalt, “Tell Patrist-Newton what you know of The Desecration?”

Cobalt’s eyes brightened at the prospect of impressing the scholar. He began, “At the Berlin Eco-Forum, Earth-base year 2062, select scientists, philanthropists, and academics, cognizant of the growing inevitability of increasing conflicts driven by global climate-change and accelerated resource and food chain collapse, began sequestering exploratory rovers and probes, each equipped with programed DNA synthesizers and sterile wombs. Some of these were sent to remote islands, where, if needed, they could accelerate the rehabilitation of a re-oxygenated atmosphere and introduce basic life forms to initiate essential eco-cycles and a renewed evolutionary process. They referred to themselves as the Zoean Consortium.”

Newton held up his hand, “Young man, I too know the recitations by heart. What I desire from you is what you know of The Desecration, not in your head, but here.” The elderly man tapped Cobalt’s heart.

Cobalt gave an inquisitive look to Euclid who nodded affirmation. Cobalt looked back at Newton who stated, “Use your own words. Tell me like you are telling someone from another planet.”

Cobalt’s eyes grew big. “There are humans on another planet?”

Both men chuckled. Euclid spoke. “We alone are left. I am asking you to become the Master. We are your charge. Pretend we have lost our memories and need instruction anew. Think for yourself. You are permitted here to do that.”

Cobalt shuddered at the idea of losing one’s memory, but took a deep breath, assumed an authoritative pose, and launched into his oration. “During the ensuing decades, Earth-humans continued to consume at unsustainable rates. The excuse persisted that new technologies would solve the problems. Societal entities and select clan-groups gained global power. Inevitably, conflicts escalated, resources peaked. The environment, unable to recover, experienced phases of ecological and societal collapse.”

Cobalt stopped. The two men nodded encouragement as Euclid stated, “More you, less rote.”

“Before those final years, the Zoean communities saw the critical window for humanity closing. Collecting their resources, they commissioned three Geodesic sites to fabricate habitable biomes housing small teams in hopes of establishing colonies on the most suitable islands.”

“And?”

Cobalt breathed in quick succession. The recitation was habit, easy. Now he had mentally to translate from the ethereal into the actual.

“It’s right to be disturbed, given it is our reality,” Euclid spoke softly. “And our brutal heritage.” He glanced as Newton.

Cobalt, fully emancipated, cleared his throat. “In 2139, a manufactured virus was released, and began rapidly eliminating the human species, including Zoean communes. With courage and determination, the Floridian and Texan cadres were directed to select a crew with scientists and, with cryogenic zygotes stored, both human and animal, along with banks of seeds and the coded DNA sequences of all known life, left Earth-base and launched for their respective islands.” Cobalt halted and tilted his cocky head, maintaining eye contact.

“But why are we here?” Euclid’s eyes narrowed. “Why land on this obscure rock out of all others? And what then of the stored seeds and zygotes?”

Cobalt’s eyes grew wide looking at Euclid and then at Newton in turn, seeking an escape.

Euclid cleared his throat. “And?”

“Both vessels were launched . . . but one vessel . . . experienced . . . catastrophic failure.” Cobalt paused and exhaled defiantly. “Our vessel had a similar flaw, and the crew was diverted here . . . of necessity.” Purposely leaving out the fact that the cryogenic chambers had also been contaminated, he held Euclid’s gaze, realizing the old man intentionally had goaded him into an emotional response.

Euclid’s face held a somber frown as the two stared each other down. Finally, Euclid’s lip curled in a grin. “Well played.”

Cobalt was momentarily taken aback.

“Yet well we know; this is no game.” Euclid stood and slowly swept his hand across the faded horizon. “It is a courageous, familiar story. Indeed, that is what they told us,” Euclid mused. “But until it becomes your story, it remains something secured, something safe. But as long as we are merely human, there can be no ‘safe’.” He sighed deeply and sat down again, and through narrowed eyes, and with one gnarled finger raised, exclaimed, “Remember, not all that is spoken is truth, and not all that is truth is spoken.”

* * *

“I am informed your launch date has been set?” Euclid’s frail voice rasped as he shuffled his thin, failing frame around his library, searching. He was, by several decades, the oldest person on-island now, given custom dictated the elderly should decommission themselves for rendering and desiccation. It was disconcerting for Cobalt to see The Grandfather like this.

Discovering, eventually, what he was looking for among his shelves littered with silica cylinders, Euclid hobbled toward Cobalt. “These, I have minded for you until today,” Euclid stated holding a carved stone box and cylinder. “Let no one know these exist.”

With a frown, Cobalt gingerly grasped the items. “Patrist-Newton did not know?”

“I tried to protect him, and you, from much of what has afflicted me, but now, I must burden you with injurious truths.” Euclid’s eyes grew moist as he fought back tears. “Wait here.”

Cobalt watched as Euclid slowly disappeared around a corner at the back of the small room which housed so much knowledge. Cobalt ambled toward the outside door to obtain better light. He looked the box and cylinder over wondering what it contained.

“Soon enough, young Cobalt, you will know soon enough.” Cobalt turned to see Euclid cradling another, slightly bigger box as he shuffled out to the open patio. Setting the box down on the table, he motioned Cobalt to sit next to him. “But now, that box.” He indicated the smaller one. “Open it.”

Cobalt lifted the lid. “What is this?” He pulled out a silver, heart-shaped locket.

“Open it.” Euclid again commanded.

“I don’t understand.” Cobalt said, his brow furrowed. “What value does this serve?”

“The inscription in lingua archae reads, ‘All my love, Kristine - Mother – 2035’. Centuries ago, before humanity ceased, mixed social units called families functioned like our patrist and matrilen cadres. In times past, females gave live birth to offspring and the connections were revered and celebrated.” He looked back at his library. “I have recorded my entire library on this synthetic sapphire crystal.” He drew out a slender jewel. “Someday, perhaps, you will have offspring. Someday, perhaps, humanity will again live in families. Secure these for them. They must know.” He grew quiet. “They must know.”

Euclid pulled the other box close. “My ultimate treasure,” he said with a glint. With effort, Euclid slid off the lid and conjured forth a small electronic device, the likes Cobalt had never seen. It looked ancient. “This,” Euclid stated with deep emotion, “is known as a Spectral Entanglement Communications Device.” He paused, a far-off look capturing his face. “I permanently borrowed it from the Archival Repository when still a youth,” he said with a sly smile. “It probably had not been used for near two centuries when I discovered it.” He frowned. “No one left to use it.”

Cobalt gave a questioning look. “What do you mean? None of the Scholas retained the knowledge?”

Euclid slowly shook his head. “On Earth-base. There was no one left on Earth-base with whom to communicate.”

A shocked look seized Cobalt. “This device was used to communicate with people on Earth-base?” He scrutinized the small device. “How?”

Euclid laughed that he could still surprise this young genius. “Later. For now . . .” Euclid took Cobalt’s hand and, trembling, placed it upon the box that had held the old device. “This,” Euclid said in a voice choked with emotion, “this box is made of Earth-wood.” Tears sprang to his eyes. “That is what drew me to this device in the first place. Only a long time later did I investigate what this box actually held.” He chuckled.

Cobalt’s eyes began to water. “I . . .Earth-wood?” He could say no more. He turned his face away and began quietly to weep.

Euclid stood with effort and came around to put his quavering hand upon the young man’s shoulder. “It is a beautiful grief to weep for what has been lost to us. But we need also to learn to weep for our part in bringing about such loss.”

Cobalt looked up with red eyes. “What do you mean?”

“My injurious truth?” He touched the cylinder. “Our Zoen commune launched The Desecration virus. They were supposed to be immune. You will learn many truths from this record, but let this truth never be forgotten.”

Cobalt stood in shock. “Nooooooo!” Covering his mouth, he stared and whispered, “We did this?” He wept deeply. Standing, he stated, “I am ashamed at showing such extreme emotion.”

The old man interjected. “Rather be ashamed we are a people who have grown ashamed of expressing our deeper humanity. But it is urgent you learn to use the Spectral Entanglement Device before launch. Here, I built another for your use.” Euclid smiled. “This is our voice, our heart, our retained humanity for all future generations.”