THE PROGENITORS

By J Alan Erwine

Galaxies had only just started to form when the race known to later races only as the Progenitors arose. They developed quickly, much like the universe around them. They made it into space in less than two millennia. Once there, they began the exploration of the universe, overseeing the birth and development of many new species.

***

Patrick Clegg fired the stabilizing jets on his scout ship, trying to adjust his flight vector to make a gentle landing on the wildly tumbling mass of rock he’d named Alcestis. The asteroid, measuring four square kilometers, had a much higher mass than most of its kind. Clegg fired his left forward jet again as the asteroid tumbled slightly away from where he’d expected. Alcestis seemed to have more mass on one side than the other, but which end it was, he couldn’t figure out. It almost seemed to be full of liquid, or maybe it had a molten core, but neither was possible.

"You O.K., Clegg?" a female voice called over the small cabin’s system.

Clegg reached up and wiped sweat from his brow. He’d never had this much trouble in the past with any of the asteroids he’d surveyed. "Fine," he grumbled. This thing’s just tumbling like mad out here. The mass seems to be shifting inside the rock."

"Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure."

Clegg didn’t answer. He’d started what he hoped would be his final descent onto the rock. Dust blew off the asteroid as his jets slowed his progress. Then, with a satisfying thud, the ship stopped moving. He was down.

"Jovian Base," he said to the communicator, trying to catch his breath. "Clegg here. I’m down. Beginning preliminary drilling now."

Clegg reached across the small cabin and started the ship’s systems on their predetermined drillin procedures. This was one of those times he envied people of the past. He wouldn’t mind having a little more work to do, but the automation had taken care of that. If it weren’t for the fact that some unforeseen contingency might arise that the ship couldn’t handle, he wouldn’t have been necessary at all.

Clegg watched the stars pass through the front window of the ship, but eventually that became too much for him. Alcestis was spinning fast enough that he could detect the motion in the stars quite easily, too easily. It made his stomach a little queasy, even though he knew it shouldn’t. With nothing better to do, he dozed off.

A gentle chiming awoke him later. He glanced around the cabin, trying to figure out where he was, but the chiming brought him back to reality. Apparently one of those unforeseen contingencies had arisen. It was only a chiming, and not a screaming claxon. Thank God for small miracles.

"Jovian Base, Clegg here. I seem to have dozed off, but the computer has apparently found something. I’ll let you know more when I have it."

"Understood."

Clegg turned the incessant chiming off and called up the computer displays. The drilling had proceeded as expected, but as the computer evaluated its progress, it had realized there was a pattern to the layering of Alcestis.

Clegg let out a long slow whistle as he reviewed the data. There was 1.414 meters of iron, then 1.414 meters of gold, then 1.414 meters of copper, then 1.414 meters of silicon, then the pattern repeated itself at least two more times. That made the computer stop its probing and await further instructions. It had realized the same thing Clegg had. There was no way this could be a random pattern.

"Jovian Base, Clegg here again. I’m not even going to tell you what I’ve found. Instead, I’m going to send you the data on tightbeam and scrambled."

"Tightbeamed and scrambled?" The woman, Janine Duprey, didn’t seem to believe what she was hearing.

"That’s what I said. I’d also recommend that only top brass see the transmission."

There was long pause. "Understood," she finally answered. "Proceed when you’re ready."

"Commencing transmission."

***

Once back at Jovian Base, a rotating dockyard and spaceport in orbit around Gaynemede, Clegg was met with a thousand questions, none of them made him happy. He’d one day hoped to find the rock that would get him back to Earth. The mass readings on Alcestis had made him think he’d finally hit it, but with the way he was being questioned, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to cash in on this one. He just hoped the Fujisaki / Jones Corporation he worked for would be willing to buy his silence by sending him hope. But the way they were acting made him think he’d better check his suit before his next venture into vacuum.

Alcestis had been towed into orbit somewhere near Callisto and was now under heavy security. Fujisaki / Jones’ people were pouring over every millimeter, hoping to unlock its secrets. Clegg wasn’t allowed anywhere close to his rock. He discovered it, so it should be his.

"Relax," Janine Duprey was trying to tell him. "You’ll be compensated for your discovery no matter what they find."

Clegg frowned at her. Even though he liked her, he thought she could be a bit too naïve. As he looked at her, he decided he might even be able to really like her. She had short auburn hair and gray eyes which had to be gene modified. She was tall, like many of the born spacers, and thin. Had his life been different, he might have wanted to get to know her in some way beyond their professional relationship, but his life wasn’t different. He was intent on making a fortune out here beyond the Belt, and nothing else mattered.

"Maybe you’re right, Janine," he said with a smile. It was a smile he always used when lying, a smile that hadn’t failed him yet. "I’m probably just getting worked up over nothing."

Her shoulders relaxed. His smile had worked yet again. "Glad to hear you say that, Clegg. Now, why don't we grab a drink. You look like you could stand to unwind."

He smiled again. "Sorry, Janine. I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll just head to my quarters and get some rest." With that, he turned and left, not telling Janine that he had no plans on resting, even though he was sure she already knew that.

***

Always one to plan for every contingency, Clegg had installed his own recording device in the computer aboard his ship. It was against his charter with Fujisaki / Jones, and it was also something he removed from the computer every time he returned to Jovian Base. Never can be too careful with the bosses. He began to search through the data the computer had retrieved from Alcestis. Using his own portable, Clegg began to analyze the data using all of the libraries in the solar system. Using a program he’d designed over the last ten years, he could conceal his tracks by routing them through several different lines using several different ID’s. Each step was erased once Clegg had the data he needed, and the systems had no idea they’d even been accessed, or what the data they’d searched through meant. The best part of the design was that there wasn’t a pack of data ferrets Clegg had ever heard of that could track him.

Clegg absently whistled as he worked. Slowly, the whistling grew more and more quiet. Finally, it stopped. There was information stored within the layers of Alcestis. The first layer contained descriptions of the universe in what numerous databases said must have been a very young age. The second layer contained descriptions of some creature that never could have lived on Earth. The third layer contained descriptions of the outer solar system. The fourth layer contained descriptions of the inner planets, but they were millions of years out of date. The fifth layer contained descriptions of a primitive mammal on Earth. In addition, it gave detailed descriptions of what Clegg knew were genetic sequences. His computer told him that the changes in the primitive creature would probably result in Homo Sapiens.

Clegg stared at the small display screen. Did the Fujisaki / Jones scientists know about this? If they didn’t, should he tell them? What would the people of the solar system have to say about this? Should they know? Clegg didn’t want to be the one to answer those questions, but he felt like it might be better if it was him and not some corporation. He needed a drink, but sleep was more important.

***

The knock at the door surprised him. It wasn’t as if it had woken him up. There was no way he could sleep. He was just surprised. "Enter," he called, expecting to see one of his female acquaintances. He didn’t expect to see three Earth trained men in Fujisaki / Jones jumpsuits. "What the. . . ?

"Relax, Mr. Clegg," one of the men said. "The bosses want to see you."

"About what?"

"We’re not paid to know, and we’re certainly not paid to ask."

Clegg nodded. Smart men.

***

"The "bosses" Clegg met with weren’t CEO’s or even station managers. He was greeted by the burly form of Carlos Alonso Cabestany, Carlos the Crucifier, as he was better known. The chief security investigator for Fujisaki / Jones, and the last man Clegg wanted to see. He knew of at least two men, both former acquaintances, that were said to have met with Carlos, although the official story from the Fujisaki / Jones officials was that they’d been lost in the cold vacuum of space, suit accidents, both of them.

"Oh, shit," Clegg mumbled under his breath.

"Have a seat, Mr. Clegg," Carlos said with a smile, the smile of a cat gorged on the canary. "This is just a simple question and answer session, Mr. Clegg. You have nothing to worry about. Most of the top brass were too busy, and since my services are pretty useless in this situation, they asked me to talk to you."

Clegg sat. There was no other choice. "What can I tell you that you can’t find out from the rock? My report’s complete. There’s nothing I can add."

Carlos continued to smile. In a very calm tone, he said, "Tell me about your wonderful computer."

Clegg felt his breath catch, but he stared at Carlos with what he hoped was a very calm expression. "I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about."

Carlos leaned back in his chair. The smile vanished. It was easy to see how he got his nickname. Clegg thought he could feel the nails being driven into his hands by Carlos’ cold, hard, brown-eyed stare. "Please, Mr. Clegg, you’re not as brilliant as you might think. We were able to track most of your wanderings through the library systems. Quite impressive, that little program of your, but out ferrets are the best money can. . .obtain."

Clegg was silent.

"And we also know about the recording device you had on your ship, which, by the way, has been confiscated pending the outcome of this. . .discussion."

His ship? Clegg swallowed hard, even though it felt like his mouth was dry. "How’d you know?"

"You’re assuming I’m not lying to get information from you?"

Clegg hadn’t though of that. He was usually two steps ahead of everyone, but he was finding that difficult with Carlos the Crucifier, which he knew was exactly what the execs of Fujisaki / Jones wanted. "Lying doesn’t seem to be your style."

Carlos shrugged. "If it suits me, I suppose I would lie. In fact, I often did when I first started this job, but now my reputation proceeds me, and everyone’s scared as hell when they sit across from me. Would you say that was true, Mr. Clegg?"

"With some people," Clegg said, trying to hold the quiver out of his voice, "I’m sure that’s true."

"But not with you?"

Clegg shrugged.

Carlos nodded. "In answer to your question, suffice it to say that we have our ways. The point is, we know what you’ve been doing. We just want to know what you’re planning to do with what you know?"

Clegg straightened up. They were afraid of him. They had to be. With luck, he could use this to his advantage. "I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do. I suppose that F/J would be willing to pay more for this rock since it’s such a big find."

Carlos smiled. "I imagine they would, quite a bit more. In fact, they’ve authorized me to offer you forty times the mineral value of Alcestis. How does that sound, Mr. Clegg?"

It sounded better than great, but he knew there was a catch. There had to be. "I suppose you’ll need me to verify the find. . .once you decide to go public with it? Clegg thought it was the best way of saying they were buying his silence and he was willing to sell, at least that’s what he hoped they were after.

Carlos’ smile widened, if that was possible. "Yes. We were thinking something like that. So, I can tell the execs you’re willing to give testimony. . .once the need arises?"

Clegg smiled and nodded. The smile worked on everyone else, he just hoped it would work on Carlos.

"Very well, Mr. Clegg. We’ll contact you in the morning with all the details."

***

Clegg sat nursing an orange juice and a too bitter coffee, glaring at the tacky painted palm trees in the small restaurant. He couldn’t wait to get back to Earth and have a real cup of coffee. Hell, he could buy his own plantation. At least, he hoped he could. There was still a nagging doubt at the back of his brain; a doubt that said he was going to have some kind of unfortunate accident long before he made it to Earth. Could he really expect F/J to hold up their end of the bargain? After all, he wasn’t planning on holding up his.

"Mind some company?" a voice asked, pulling Clegg’s thoughts back to the immediate moment. He couldn’t afford to let his mind wander. That could be fatal. Clegg looked up and saw Janine smiling, holding a cup of the awful coffee. He pushed a chair out with his foot and motioned for her to join him.

"Are they buying your silence?" she asked.

He was surprised. He didn’t think anyone else knew what was going on.

"I saw the data when you transmitted it," she said as an explanation. "They’re paying me a nice chunk of money to keep my mouth shut."

Clegg nodded. "Me too. Can’t complain."

"Do you think it’s a hoax?" she asked.

Janine was full of surprises. "Why would anyone want to fake something like this?"

She lowered her voice. "The discovery of extraterrestrial life, especially life that helped in our evolution could be a big event. What do you think will happen when people hear about this?"

"People are smart. They can handle it, and if someone wanted to fake this, they’d need a huge sum of money. Only a couple of corps could even afford that."

"Do you think one of them faked it?"

Clegg shook his head. "That rock’s old, hundreds of millions of years at least."

Janine sat back, sipping her coffee and grimacing. "So why would an alien species use a measurement like 1.414? It seems pretty basic to me."

"They would have wanted us to find it."

"Why not use one meter measurements?"

Clegg shrugged. "Maybe the square root of two has some special significance to them."

Janine nodded for a few seconds and then was silent. After more than a minute, she leaned forward. "Are you telling anyone?"

Clegg sat back and nodded towards the doorway. Janine turned and saw what he was looking at. Carlos the Crucifier was standing in the doorway staring at them, arms crossed; his ever-present smile missing.

Clegg watched as Carlos visibly composed himself and began to walk over to them. By the time he was at their table, he was smiling again. "I should have expected that the two of you would talk eventually," he said.

Clegg shrugged. "We often eat together. It’s not a big deal."

Carlos nodded, but his smile grew wider, a sign Clegg had learned meant Carlos didn’t believe him. "I’m sure you do, but today’s different, isn’t it?"

"No use arguing with you," Clegg said, taking a sip of his bad coffee. "You already have your mind made up."

Carlos’ smile disappeared. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two data chits. "These are the contracts," he said, handing one to each of them. "Make sure you have them signed and back to the execs before twenty-two hundred hours."

"What if I want a lawyer to look them over?" Clegg asked, trying his best not to smile.

"If you have any questions, come see me, and I’ll answer them to the best of abilities," his sneer made it obvious that help would not be what they got if they went to him. "Otherwise, have the contracts signed, or we’ll alter the deal." He turned and walked away.

"Well, wasn’t that reassuring," Clegg said with a laugh, trying to ignore the stares of the others in the restaurant. He looked at Janine. She wasn’t smiling. Her face was flushed and trembling.

"They’ll kill us if we don’t go along with them."

"Probably," Clegg said with a shrug. "So, I suggest we go along with them, at least until we’re out of their reach."

Janine stood up. "Do whatever you want, Clegg. I’m not saying anything about this."

She walked away from the table, leaving Clegg shaking his head. There really wasn’t that much to be afraid of, especially considering the information they could give people. F/J had to let them go. Covering up their deaths once the information was out would ruin F/J. Somehow, it made sense to Clegg. He wasn’t sure why. It just did.

***

Clegg watched the display screen on his ship’s computer. The ship carrying Janine was slowly moving away from the station. She’d decided to go home to the L+60 station. Clegg was heading back to Earth. He just had to wait for her ship to leave and he’d get his clearance. He’d already placed calls with some key people. Without revealing anything, he was making plans, finding out who would be able to help him change the world.

"Cleared for initial departure," a voice said. It was strange not hearing Janine’s voice, but he’d get used to it. He laughed. He didn’t have to get used to it. He was leaving. Of course, he couldn’t ever talk to Janine again. There was no reason to make the F/J execs think she had anything to do with what he was about to do.

"Roger that. Firing maneuvering jets." He felt the ship beginning to move as the propulsion tanks hissed inside the ship. The hissing seemed louder than normal. He was just eager to get out of there, pushing the jets harder than he needed to. He shut off the jets as he waited for final clearance. The hissing didn’t stop. "What the hell?" His ears popped. The ship was losing pressure. "Jovian Base, I have an emergency. I need to redock. I’m losing pressure."

There was a pause. It seemed to last for hours, but Clegg knew it was only seconds. "Negative. We seem to be having a problem with the docking mechanisms. We will advise as soon as we have the problem fixed."

There was loud click as the circuit was broken on the Jovian end. "Jovian base, do you copy? Jovian Base, do you copy?" There was no answer. "Jovian Base, answer me damn it."

Still no answer. There was nothing he could do. He had no way of docking with the station if they wouldn’t let him, and he knew he no chance to seal the leak in the ship. Carlos was too efficient for that to work. He’d probably slashed Clegg’s suit as well. With a sigh, he jettisoned the small courier drone the ship carried. With luck, someone would find it and retrieve the information. Someone would learn about the other species. Clegg doubted it. Even as he felt the air thinning, and even as he watched the small drone heading sunward, he was sure Carlos and his men were already scrambling tor etrieve the drone. They knew what it carried, or more likely, they didn’t, but were told they had to retrieve it. That was the way corporations worked. Hopefully, someone would learn about the other race. Hopefully, the other race wasn’t like humanity.