And now the Conclusion
It had been three cycles, fifteen rotations of the third planet since he’d met with the Director, and Three-oh-oh had become alarmed but, to some extent, relieved. The focused observation of the new event he’d reported during their last meeting had revealed a startling discovery that could have put their entire mission in jeopardy.
The Director had been so busy planning the operation for the next system that she’d canceled their last two status updates. Finally, today, after Three-oh-oh had sent a high-priority, urgent message, the Director had agreed to a meeting.
The intervening cycles hadn’t been all anxiety-filled. The breeding orgy had gone on as scheduled. As their cohort members touched and sampled each other’s flavors, making connections and selecting mates, finally blending and entwining, Three-oh-oh and One-two-seven had found each other, tasting the spice of passion and desire. The bond Three-oh-oh and One-two-seven had formed in private, in those casual visits in the corridor, had added the rich taste of fondness and familiarity to their entwining and ultimately in their mating. Three-oh-oh had found the distinctive flavor of One-two-seven exhilarating, and One-two-seven had expressed her surprise that mating would have such an intense flavor. She’d expected it to taste distant and detached the first time.
Now though, that could all be for naught if the Director accepted his recommendations—Three-oh-oh could lose One-two-seven. He relished her uniqueness, and their exchanges and recent mating had kindled a suppressed desire for closeness and familiarity. Not understanding which had come first, he had also come to appreciate the value of the diversity and individuality he’d observed in the subject species. Perhaps they should be left to their fate.
The consequences of his team’s conclusions were not lost on Three-oh-oh as he slipped into the Director’s chamber right on time. The Director reached out with a tentacle, and Three-oh-oh connected. “What’s so urgent, Eugenics Officer, that you would interrupt our planning sessions.”
“Ma’am, we believe the subject species has been conducting a selective breeding program and has created various germ-lines that are moving towards developing sub-species of themselves.”
“That’s ridiculous. We’ve never found that to be the case on any of the worlds we’ve standardized. What makes you think this species has done this?” Dismissiveness and disdain flavored their connection.
Three-oh-oh took a long breath that distended the small exhalation slits behind his eye patches to calm himself and handed the report pad to the Director. “Director, the images on the pad tell the story. They’ve bred large, massive males and females specifically for strength. Others of varying sizes, large and small, have been designed for several different combat methods and feats of speed, power, and quickness. Finally, you can see the tiny females bred for balance, strength, and agility. We believe, ma’am, that they’ve bred these lines specifically for these abilities.”
The Director’s taste turned sharp and angry. “Why didn’t you bring this to me earlier? This could disrupt the entire standardization plan. We’ll need to re-think the schedule.”
Three-oh-oh worked a moment to stop the taste of frustration from intruding. “It’s worse than that, Director. The polymorphism is alarming enough, but the sexual dimorphism between the largest breed of males and the smallest breed of females is extreme. And—they celebrate these differences. You can see in the images where it looks like the best specimens receive special attention and rewards.”
Three-oh-oh paused while the Director scanned the images. When her taste changed to keen interest, Three-oh-oh quieted his thoughts to proceed. “Director, we need to cancel this project, abandon this species to themselves and move on to our next objective. If we try to counteract this level of selective breeding, it will take generations to standardize.”
“Do you still think they directed the broadcast at us? Do you think we’re in danger from these grotesqueries?” The under-taste of disgust from the Director startled Three-oh-oh.
“No, ma’am. We ruled that out. Hiding in the rings of the gas giant has proved to be an effective camouflage. But, again, that they would dedicate resources to serve the few individuals on the gas mining facilities is further evidence of the importance of this breeding program to them.”
“You’re recommending we just abandon this species to their fate?”
“Yes, ma’am. We can’t help them. They may realize their error and standardize on their own. It’s more likely they’ll devolve into distinct, incompatible subspecies, and progress will stop.” Or Three-oh-oh thought, they might find a path to grow and expand and preserve their diversity. He’d begun to wonder what the Yarish had lost when they standardized. He cautioned himself to keep the taste of doubt at bay.
“You realize what this means. We’ll need to reconfigure the crew and eliminate the non-essential members.”
“Yes, ma’am. But I do have one special request.”
“One-two-seven?” The faint taste of empathy flashed in the Director’s communication and then was gone. Her eye patches focused on his. “Don’t be surprised, Three-oh-oh. Standardization Security is exceptionally good at what they do. Out of respect for your position, I’ve asked them not to get involved unless you breed outside your cohort.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’m hoping One-two-seven will be spared the non-essential crew purge, and she can be assigned a stasis chamber.”
“That’s not going to happen, First Class.” A sour taste of sternness entered their exchange. “There are no accommodations for non-essential personnel. You knew this when you started your little clandestine affair. She would have been purged eventually.”
“Yes, Ma’am. But I thought you would understand. I’m not the only one to find pleasure in familiarity.” Three-oh-oh blended a tincture of a shared secret with his words.
A spike of anger and hurt warped the Director’s flavor to bitterness. Her eye patches drew closer to the center, and a puff ruffled her exhalation slits. “First Class, don’t push this too far. You might find your contribution isn’t as unique as you think.”
Three-oh-oh forced his flavor to withdraw to respect. “My apologies, Director. But I thought I could be granted this one request. I saved the expedition a significant amount of wasted effort. That’s worth something. And One-two-seven is special.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? She shouldn’t be. So, no—she will not be granted a stasis pod.” The Director’s flavor soured further, bordering on offensive.
“Then I’ll share my stasis pod with her.”
“That’s out of the question. If the ship has to reduce power to below eighty percent, the stasis pod won’t support you both.”
“A risk I’m willing to take.”
“That’s a pretty big risk since the next transit is close to ten light-years.”
“I don’t care. If we die in transit, I’ll never know. But I couldn’t bear it if I knew One-two-seven had been purged, and I’d lived.”
The Director sat for a moment. Three-oh-oh did not resist as she tasted his commitment and his conviction.
“Very well. I’ll file your recommendations with the Council, and in consideration of your effort on this project, I’ll approve your request to go into stasis with One-two-seven. But First Class—you’ve been warned. Dismissed.”
After Three-oh-oh left her chamber, the Director opened a private, encrypted security file. She made a note to monitor Three-oh-oh’s performance at their next system and watch if he showed any more signs of deviation. But she also appended a slight flavor of personal regret and envy to the file, remembering Four-eight-three, who she’d abandoned planets ago, too scared to risk being branded a deviant.
###
The Yarish spent the subsequent six cycles preparing the ship for departure and the long transit to the next inhabited planet on the expedition’s itinerary. The crew purged the brood chambers of the fertilized eggs from the last mating orgy and shut down the nursery. The immature young that would not enter stasis were terminated and returned to the recyclers. They placed the ship’s non-essential sections on standby, and the crew assigned to those sections euthanized and sent into the recyclers.
When the last non-essential section was shut down and the recyclers had topped up the supply tanks, the crew and scientists with essential skills entered their assigned stasis chambers. Three-oh-oh and One-two-seven entered Three-oh-oh’s designated chamber, entwined their tentacles, and settled themselves for the long sleep. Three-oh-oh’s last impression was the gentle taste of thanks from One-two-seven.
The onboard AI, the only intelligence that would remain awake during the journey, checked the local probes, the planets’ locations, and the orbits of the deep space facilities and selected a launch window where they could leave unobserved. When the timing was right, she fired the engines to ten percent and slowly exited the system.
###
The Producer could finally relax. He’d been stressed about the broadcast since the network had purchased enough bandwidth to live stream the entire event, twenty-four hours a day to the Lunar Cities, Mars, and even a hugely expensive near real-time tight beam transmission out to Titan. But now, as he headed to the command site control room, it was time to congratulate the team, shut down the gear, and take some R and R.
“Ladies and Gentlemen. I’ll keep it short as I know you have flights to catch for well-deserved vacations. It has been a pleasure working with such a talented team. Great job all around. The Eighty-fourth Olympiad is one for the history books. See you back here in four years.”
END