Generation 7 Read online

  A short dumpy woman appeared and without even a moment's hesitation began examining her patient. We will give you a penicillin injection, she said. I know your species respond to this antibiotic.

  The young Crucnon stared at the hypodermic needle but didn't object when the doctor injected her upper arm. The pale, almost human face relaxed and she lapsed into a peaceful sleep. I forgot to tell her I added morphine, Sandra added. She was in considerable pain but the species has some system of blocking off the signal. Unfortunately this does not cure the injury and often adds to the damage.

  You know about clicker anatomy? Holly grimaced.

  Yes, like their language at school, it is a compulsory subject at our medical training center. I think everyone hopes that, one day, we can be allies, She nodded. Perhaps this is a first step on a long journey.

  Could be, Holly replied. I know I learned something today.

  Jaddig awoke to the faint glare of an electric light bulb, stared around and sat up in alarm. Holly was sitting in the adjacent chair with a book in her hands.

  It's okay, Holly said quietly. Nobody will hurt you.

  What time is it? the clicker girl asked.

  Three hundred hours, Holly added.

  Thank Sun God! Jaddig gasped. Quick, you must raise the alarm!

  Why? replied Holly. Your forces have retreated. The battle is over.

  No it isn't! You don't understand.

  Holly frowned. Understand what, Jaddig? She bent forward and gazed into the yellow eyes. There was something this young female was worried about.

  You have two hours, gasped the clicker. At five, our mechanical machines arrive. They have drilling equipment and tanks of testra.

  Testra. What's that?

  A deadly nerve gas, Jaddig Qarte replied. Her eyes expanded perfectly round to over three centimeters in diameter, They're going to pump it into here. One whiff is enough to kill a person. Within half an hour you'll all be dead. Our army has plans of your whole underground city. They know where the main ventilation pipes are. Everything! She reached out with both right hands and gripped Holly. The grip was cold but the young human woman knew the warning was genuine.

  Right, Holly whispered and walked to the telephone on the wall. Four digits were punched in and she cursed as she waited for Commander Evans to answer.

  Commander. It's Holly, she said when his sleepy voice answered. Code Red. We must evacuate everyone immediately and seal the city. This is not a bluff. My emergency authority number is Triple 8, 59, double 7.

  Explain! Snapped Evans and listened as Holly repeated Jaddig's warning.

  Can you trust this Crucnon?

  I believe so. She has nothing to gain by lying.

  Okay. Evacuate the infirmary to Emergency Exit 76. Go into the maze. Left, straight then right. You'll find an airlock 774. Repeat please, he added in a crisp voice.

  Holly did and Evans continued. Through the airlock is a reception room. Wait there for further instructions. I'll do everything else.

  We're evacuating, Holly told her patient as a siren began to wail through out the room and a mechanical voice filled the air. Condition Red. Emergency Evacuation. This is not a drill. Please proceed to your nearest Red Exit sign. Repeat. This is not a practice. Please proceed to your nearest Red Exit. All military personnel are ordered to find the children and Generation 4 citizens on your personal list and escort them to the exit doors. Condition Red... the message was repeated.

  Holly checked her electronic notepad and found it contained the names of ten hospital patients in her immediate vicinity.

  Can you walk? she asked Jaddig and received a nod. I can also push a bed. the clicker replied as she slipped out of bed, grabbed her body suit and proceeded to put it on.

  Come on, Holly said to a young soldier with multiple burns in the next room. You heard the speaker. Do you mind if Jaddig pushes your bed?

  No, the young man chuckled. I often wondered what a female clicker looked like. Almost as beautiful as you, Holly.

  Watch it, Douglas, the woman replied with a tiny grin and moved to the next bed.

  It took an hour but by four fifteen, New Seattle was like a ghost town, electronic detonations were set and the last troops turned off and isolated the main ventilation shafts, opened the top secret emergency ventilation. The entrances to the maze were electronically sealed behind them and citizens gathered in the reception room where a roll call was in operation.

  At five, exactly as Jaddig Qarte had said, twenty mechanical vehicles rolled in through the gaps in the fence followed by hundreds of ground troops. There was no resistance. The mechanical monsters drove to pre-selected sites and raised steel drills similar to oilrigs. But they never began operating.

  Hundreds of meters below the surface, Andrea Jurjevics gave the order and three councilors entered their codes into a computer, Toby Evans nodded and pulled the self-destruct lever down.

  Above, New Seattle disappeared in high explosive, smoke, flames and debris as fifty charges detonated simultaneously. Five thousand living beings died that morning but one thousand three hundred and fifteen humans and one clicker survived the earthquake that shook their reinforced bomb shelter below. The emergency evacuation that had been built sixty years earlier worked perfectly. Now there was a ten-kilometer journey through underground tunnels to caves in the mountains, the last retreat for humankind on the planet of Delpe.

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  Chapter Two

  When the evacuation into the tunnels began, Andrea Jurjevics walked up and waited while her daughter she tended to Jaddig's wounds. She exchanged a few brief comments with the clicker and drew Holly aside.

  Jordan Wittenburg wishes to speak to you urgently, Holly, she said. He is quite depressed by the destruction of New Seattle but I believe he has more to say than just the ramblings of an elderly man.

  Holly grimaced. She knew Jordan, of course, but had not really had a lot to do with him. Okay, Mom, she sighed. Where is he.

  Here My Child, a raspy voice interrupted and Holly glanced up to see the elder standing at the small side entrance. I need to speak to you alone.

  The young woman nodded, gave her mother a brief grimace and followed the old man through the crowded main auditorium until they came to another alcove lit by one weak light bulb.

  This is a poor substitute for my apartment but will have to do, Jordan began. Please sit if you wish.

  Holly smiled and sat on the dry ground with her back against the wall. Shadows from the one swinging bulb gave the cave a surreal appearance and the voices in the main cave became but a faint hum in the distance.

  Jacob took a small bottle and two shiny mugs from his jacket pocket, poured a small amount of liquid in each and handed one to Holly.

  A little wine? he asked.

  Thank you, the red haired girl replied and politely sipped the drink. It tasted tart but was relaxing on the lips.

  I noticed what you did for the Crucnon, The centenarian began with a crinkled smile and wave of a shaky hand. Somehow, it reflects everything we stand for.

  And what is that, Jordan?

  Humanity, Child. Compassion? That young Crucnon was dropping death and devastation on our village but you did not rush in with a sword and pierce the creature's heart, like that youth wanted to do, but instead offered her help. His watery eyes found hers, You turned an enemy into a possible friend.

  I could not leave her to die, Holly replied in a soft voice. As it worked out I found she was forced into fighting us. She had no choice.

  Exactly, the old man continued, and human history is filled with accounts of behavior no different than that of the ruling Crucnon. Historically, our kind are no better than hers.

  How do you know, Jordan? Holly replied. Her eyes lit up in interest.

  Jordan Wittenburg sighed. Have you heard of the Survival of Humanity Protocol?

  Yes, Holly replied. It was a course our ancestors set out for us to follow eighty years ago.

  W
hen it was discussed I was your age, Holly and the junior representative on the committee that proposed it. He sighed, sat down beside the girl, lifted his knees and folded his arms around them. There seemed to be a glow in his eyes and his old body appeared to shed the years. It was more than a vision of the future. It was a decision to hide the past from future generations.

  But why? Holly whispered.

  So we would not cling to a faint hope of something that might never happen.

  And what was that?

  The old man's eyes moved across to the attractive woman with shoulder length red hair and warm blue eyes. We are not of this world, Holly. Our ancestors came here in a mighty starship but were stranded on this planet. The first generations thought they would be rescued but the years went by until we realized there would be not be one. We wanted our children and children's children to be free of this faint hope of rescue hence the Survival of Humanity Protocol. There it was agreed to withhold information about our past from our children and up until this day, it has worked.

  So why are you telling me, Jacob? Surely this knowledge will only depress our people?

  True, Jordan sighed. Except for one last subclause in the Protocol which I am now invoking.

  Holly bit on her lip waited but said nothing.

  Like it or not, Young Lady, you are, through your age and democratic choice, leader of the Generation 7 that goes from your 23 years down to John Garret born but three weeks ago. Your child, when you chose to have one, will be one of the first of Generation 8, but I digress. He stopped and sipped his wine before continuing. Subclause 63.7 of the Survival of Humanity Protocol gives me the right; no commands me to hand to the leader of the last adult generation the final orders. That, Holly Jurjevics is you. His old leathery face twisted into a thin smile. Thank God it is you and not that whippersnapper hothead Hilton Foster.

  He almost beat me in the election for Generation 7 Leader, Holly replied modestly.

  If you can call ninety percent of the female vote and sixty of the male vote close, Jordan chortled. I've followed you closely, My Dear, and are proud you are my great grand daughter.

  Am I? Holly gasped. I didn't know.

  The old man shrugged. Another Survival of Humanity Protocol, he added. We wanted to stop any inter-family rivalry so from that date, all children were given their mother's surname; saved trying to trace the father and inter-sibling rivalry between half brothers and sisters. He grunted. It worked well, too.

  Holly frowned. What happened before that? she asked.

  Children took the fathers surname.

  How stupid! she snorted.

  Yes, it does seem so now, I agree but eighty years ago attitudes were different. Many wanted to cling to the old ways. He stopped again and gave a nostalgic sigh. My wife, Christina had your red hair, Holly. Her Irish ancestry, she used to say.

  Holly frowned again. Irish! She'd never heard the word. All she knew was that she was one of very few red haired humans and had often wished she had no freckles but blonde hair like her friends or even dark hair of many of the people. She thought of her fellow humans. Even in her generation they were often very different with different skin color, eyes, as well as size and weight.

  She was slim, a meter eighty-three tall, weighed seventy odd kilogram and took pride in her fitness, but most males towered above her. Every generation, it seemed, was taller than the one before it.

  Anyway, Jordan continued and took a crumpled yellowing document out of his pocket. This is the Survival of Humanity Protocol in its entirety. I now officially hand it on to you to care for and preserve for future generations. You are our leader, Holly.

  What about Mom? the girl protested.

  She is the present. You are the future. Do you understand the difference?

  Holly hesitated for a moment before nodding. I think so, she added in a whisper.

  Good. Now the information. Jordan smiled.

  The elder spoke in a clear voice for an hour with frequent references to the old document. Holly's eyes opened wide in astonishment at the knowledge being passed onto her. She felt proud and humble, if it was possible to be both at the same time, as she listened, asked a few questions or read extracts from the typewritten document.

  Does Mom know this information? she finally asked.

  Yes, Jordan replied, along with Commander Evans and two members of the Inner Council. They have all taken the vow of secrecy, something you will not have to do.

  Why? the young woman asked again.

  The time has come to tell our peoples about their past, Holly. That will be your job; not mine or Andrea's but yours, as shall be the decision as what to do with the information you now know. Discuss it with your mother, the Inner Council but the final decision is yours.

  Yea I know, Holly grunted. It's what the Survival of Humanity Protocol directs.

  True, smiled the old man. Your ancestors as well as living compatriots depend on you. As I said at the beginning of our conversation; like it or not, you're it, Holly.

  Holly's body shook as Jordan Wittenburg reached out and gave her a brief hug. Her mind was in a spin. Information she received was almost too much to comprehend. Their ancestors did come from another world and, perhaps even more important, the space craft was still out there orbiting Planet Delpe. All they had to do was to get to it.

  That evening the Inner Council had a special meeting to discuss the fate of the their kind and, as well as the usual members, Holly and Jordan were in attendance.

  Andrea stood, nodded gravely at the members and glanced across the small table that almost filled the side cave.

  Today, we reached a turning point in our society, she stated. We are here deep under the ground, our homes have gone, our supplies are finite and we are at war. War with an enemy who wants to exterminate us but why? She paused. We are no threat to them, a little over a thousand souls compared with hundreds of thousands, if not millions of the Crucnon on this planet. In 2098, ninety-eight Earthlings, fifty women and forty-eight men landed on Delpe due to an emergency deep in space.

  It is now 2248, True Time. Due to the orbit of this planet we have thirty one years for every thirty two on Earth, She grinned. On Earth I'd be almost two years older. We have been here one hundred and fifty years, Fellow Councilors; seven generations and we are still the aliens. We are still no accepted. We are still hunted down like animals and killed. Andrea's voice became louder before she stopped and continued in a whisper. That's the trouble, I guess. We are animals, mammals to be precise, whereas the Crucnon are insects... Andrea hesitated when she heard a faint cough and saw Holly's eyes attracting her attention.

  Can I speak, please Mother, the younger Jurjevics asked. Her light green frock shone in the artificial light. She stood, acknowledged her mother's slight nod and began to speak.

  It is not the Crucnon who are the ruthless killers, she began and hoped her nervousness did not show. It is their government. I learned a lot in the last two days. I met my first Crucnon yesterday, a woman my age. Sure she has no hair or warm blood. She has four arms and four wings but she also has intelligence and compassion. Holly stopped and glanced at each councilor in turn. She also saved our lives, every one of us. She could have remained silent and let her army pump nerve gas into our shelter, but she didn't Ladies and Gentlemen... Holly's voice continued and grew in confidence as she told the small elite group everything about Jaddig Qarte.

  But how does it help us? muttered Malone Davidson. Her kind have us trapped. All they need to do is wait. We have food for three months then we starve or surrender. It's as simple as that.

  Or we find the shuttle craft our ancestors used, Jordan Wittenburg interjected. It is sitting four hundred kilometers from here, secure and safe, ready to rise to the heavens to the mother craft in orbit.

  A fantasy, scoffed Davidson.

  No, said the old man. It has been waiting while breeder cells slowly replenished the oxygen supply in the Mother Craft and solar energy replenished battery power.
This took a hundred and twenty five years. The space ship has been is ready to receive us for eighty years, now.

  Rubbish! shouted an elderly man to the right of Andrea.

  Jordan Wittenburg smiled. I have proof, he said and placed a small television receiver on the table. An old VCR, he said and clicked a tape in the flap at the bottom. I got this one working. He grinned at Holly. Plug it in My Girl.

  Holly took the cord, reached up with a handkerchief in her hand, took out the light bulb and plunged the room into reflected light from the main cave around a half corner. She screwed in the plug and watched the monitor light up. We're ready, Jordan, she said.

  The old man thanked her, pressed a button and the screen lit up to show a line of people dressed in silver suits waving at the audience. Behind was a gigantic rocket with a shuttlecraft perched on top. The journey to the stars is about to begin... the commentary started.

  For two hours the tape continued and traced the story of Inter-galatical Starship 7. It showed the one hundred and five astronauts entering deep freeze chambers where they were put in suspended animation before the starship switched to light speed. There was a brief display of static until the next scenes came into view. A planet, all blue, green and white dangled in the black sky. This was Delpe where the computers had brought them after Inter-galatical Starship 7 had been hit by a rogue meteorite no bigger than a pea. An external view showed astronauts repairing Star Ship 7 s fractured outer hull as a stream of white condensation poured out. The commentary noted that ninety percent of the craft's oxygen was lost. Finally a spherical shuttlecraft shuttled the ninety-eight survivors of the deep space journey to the planet below.

  It is Wednesday, the 17th of August 2098 and we are stranded, an astronaut spoke to the screen. We cannot leave but perhaps, one day, our ancestors will. Our signals will take seventy years or more to reach Earth at light speed so there is no hope of rescue. May God bless you all. This is Admiral Leonard Jurjevics, leader of this fated expedition signing off.

  The screen turned to static again, Holly replaced the light bulb and strained faces stared, speechless, at each other.