Kings of the Universe by Chris Dean

“The animal man, for all its thorax beating and pathological behavior, had a certain charm not unlike a male zoot fly just prior to copulation.” Dunt chortled, both mouths twitching with amusement. “Like the doomed insect, Homo Sapiens danced happily into the jaws of extinction, winking and flirting all the way.”

From across the triangular quartz desk, Andha cocked an angry eyestalk. “Filthy reptiles!” he spat.

“Mammals,” corrected Dunt. “Dirt turning vermin yes, but this particular version—” Pale scarlet tentacles ran over the desk and a gray oval appeared in its middle. “The Homo Sapiens was unique, an anomaly.”

Andha watched as the image of a small scrawny-looking creature coalesced inside the gray screen. “Puny things. Pathetic.

“Perhaps.” Dunt smiled slightly. “But they were very, very special.”

“This Homo Sapiens was but an insignificant footnote in the history of the universe.”

“That might be true.” Dunt wagged a tentacle. “But that is only because we eliminated them.”

“Hah! Look at that flimsy morphology. And they were culturally unstable. They barely lasted ten cycles. I’d hardly call them civilized, Chancellor.”

“I didn’t say they were civilized.” Dunt stroked his yellow craw. “That is entirely inconsequential to what I did say. Homo Sapiens was a unique species in many ways and their potential for universal domination was such that, if we hadn’t destroyed them it would be two of them sitting here talking instead of us.”

Andha jerked an eyestalk at the high overhead windows. He squinted at the picture on the screen again. “It’s too dark in here. Can you turn it up?”

Dunt brushed a section of quartz and the image of the man grew brighter.

“It looks like a sea sponge.” His eyestalks drooped mockingly and Andha chuckled. “They named their planet Dirt! What kind of an animal names a planet Dirt?”

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but this rep- mammal is hardly worth talking about. They disappeared over a texacycle ago.” Andha tugged at the bottom of his striped vest. “Why did you call me here, Chancellor, really?”

“I-” Dunt stopped for a moment, thinking. “You’re our xenobiologist and that’s why you’re here. Obviously you’re familiar with Homo Sapiens, but it’s just as obvious there are many things about them that you do not know.”

“What can it matter what sort of potential these savages had?”

Dunt took a deep breath. “Humor me, will you? The humans were quite adept scientifically, although this fact has been lost from the records. As you said it’s been more than a texacycle.”

“But—”

“Savages?” Dunt laughed. “I know that Homo Sapiens is tucked in the very back of one of your textbooks with raptors and talking clams, but they weren’t savages. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

Andha said quietly, “You’re serious.”

“I understand how you feel. I was just as surprised as anyone.” Dunt cleared his throat. “You see, the university has just recently discovered this information.”

“This is overwhelming.”

“Yes.” Dunt nodded.

Andha took a deep breath. “Tell me more.”

“For some time, the university has been in procession of a collection of artifacts that date back several hundred gigicycles, to the Inmizoic Era. This particular collection was incorrectly catalogued as an amalgamation of artifacts representing several different precivilizations from the early Inmizoic. It is instead, the legacy of Homo Sapiens.”

“Hm?”

“Our history department recently examined the artifacts and they found out some astounding things about Homo Sapiens.”

Andha cocked an eyestalk. “Yes?”

“They were quite prolific scientists, frankly. In the history of the universe, only eleven species have conquered the light speed barrier. Homo Sapiens was one of these. They also discovered how to create wormholes and transversals in the laboratory. Our own black hole technology is derived from their research,” Dunt chuckled. “And the perpetual dynamo on Mantis III that no one can fix? That is because they put it there.”

“What?”

“In ten short cycles these creatures laid the groundwork for the metaphysics we use today, Andha. And they were very accommodating to our entreaties for intellectual equality. Frankly, they taught us what we needed to know to destroy them.”

“And how was this accomplished?”

“There is no actual record of that, I’m afraid. But they are obviously extinct, after this length of time. And who could have eliminated them but us? Like we removed the Cregans and the Horde and the Menth Empire. The Imperium is the only real force left in the universe.”

“Of course.”

“And the real truth is that before the Homo Sapiens taught us their science we were the savages.”

“What?”

“If it weren’t for their help, we would still be traveling at sub light speeds, Andha. They were by far the most prodigious inventors the universe has ever seen. And we destroyed them because of it, there is no other explanation possible.”

“This is astounding.” Andha shook his head. “When can I see this collection of artifacts?”

Dunt hesitated, “There is no problem with that. One thing though.”

“What?”

“Well, along with the historical records, there was something else. Some type of mechanical device. We’re not exactly sure what it’s for.”

“What kind of device?”

“We don’t know, I’m afraid. But we are certain sure it was created by them.”

“You have no idea what it’s for?”

Chancellor Dunt pressed his mouths together thoughtfully. “You see, we were hoping that you could . . .”

“What?”

“We think that it’s receiving some kind of a signal. We thought you might be able to tell us what it means.”

#

Bored, Bily Hach jabs furiously at the red button for a few seconds. Dr. Thom notices immediately and her annoyed voice flies across the room. “Young man! What are you doing?”

A warmth of embarrassment fills his cheeks and Bily stammers softly, “S-Sorry, I-” His finger slows and begins its slow regular motion again, tap-tap-tap . . .

Dr. Thom leaves her station and storms toward the rear of the long room. A howl of ugly noise spreads out around her as she moves, “Young man, your gross incompetence is unacceptable. I will not stand for these interruptions.”

Scared, Bily wilts under the onslaught. “I-I-”

A tall shadow looms over Bily’s table. His heart begins to explode inside his chest. He knows that hundreds of eyes are staring at him from all around the room and his mouth drops open, “Ahhhh.” The finger continues. tap, tap . . .

Eyeing the identification card on the table, Dr. Thom spits out his name, “Mr. Hach. What about this procedure is so difficult for you?”

Bily stares at the black box on his table. His finger continues to tap the red button on its top.

Titters and giggles sprout up from the other tables and Dr. Thom glares, launching a vacuum of silence over the room. “If you cannot comply with simple instruction, you will be removed, Mr. Hach”

“No, I’m sorry,” Bily wails.

Someone coughs. Dr. Thom glowers. Hundreds of fingers continue their quiet hum of noise. There is no other sound but tapping. “Sorry will not do, Mr. Hach.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat, Bily taps his button. A tiny whine creeps from him, “I can do it right.”

The glacier eases back an inch. The shadow retreats “See that you do.” Dr. Thom swivels and stalks back to her station.

On the catwalk hundreds of meters above the workroom floor, the new Proctor makes a note with his stylus. His clipboard drops to his side. He watches the supervisor walk back to her podium. His lips purse.

“She is one of our best.”

Startled, the new Proctor looks up at the voice. He says quietly, “Her methods are stern.”

A hand strokes his beard as the Proctor answers. “It is difficult to motivate the workers under the present circumstances. Dr. Thom has been very successful in this.”

“Her approach—-” The new Proctor’s voice quavers slightly. “I believe the workers may harbor some resentment.”

A limp smile wanders across the Proctor’s thin face. “That may be true,” he says. “But her group is one of our most efficient and she is highly regarded.”

The new Proctor gazes out over the vast complex, at the thousands of partitioned workrooms. “I didn’t know.”

“Abrasive though her methodology may seem, it has been the most effective.” The Proctor steps forward and waves an arm out. “And after nearly one hundred million years of failure, any enthusiasm for the project is an extreme rarity.”

The new Proctor nods. Many of the work groups were lazy and undisciplined. “I appreciate what you’re saying, sir.”

Hands clasped behind his back, the Proctor murmurs, “Good,” and bows his head. The Proctor walks away along the catwalk, to the octagonal office in the middle of the maze of connecting walkways. He opens the door and goes inside to his desk.

“So?”

The Proctor hesitates for a moment. “One of the young trainees. He was surprised.”

“Surprised?” The old Proctor studies the Proctor’s face.

“With Dr. Thom.”

The old Proctor laughs. “He notated that?”

“Yes”

“And you set him straight.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” The old Proctor blinks thoughtfully. “It is more important than ever to continue our work.”

“Yes, I told him. He will not interfere with her.”

“Good. With only two million years of funding left, we have to keep focused as a team.”

“I know.” A tiny frown flicks over the Proctor’s face.

“What is it?” the old Proctor asks.

“I just wonder if, after trying for so long . . . I can’t help but thinking that we may be doing something wrong.”

“You have stated this opinion before. And I have told you that it is not your purview to make such a determination.”

“I know this.”

A sigh comes from the old Proctor. “When our ancestors created this dimension and left the real universe, they left the communication devices behind. The technology is perfect.”

“Then why, after one hundred million years—?”

“Why have we not received an answer from the Imperium?”

“Yes.”

“After so long, who can say? Perhaps they’ve simply forgotten how to use the equipment.”

—

Chris Dean travels the American west as a truck driver and this writer adores Yellowstone, the Klamath, and anyplace the sequoias brush the sky. A Chicago native, Chris currently resides in Iowa.