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Authors: Samuel Franklin
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BOOK: Primal Estate: The Candidate Species
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Provenger always took a few weeks to learn the languages of the systems they visited and use them while they were there, as long as they could form their sounds. The Provenger mastered so many languages that they had to mandate times for speaking only their own, lest it get lost to them. These humans, being very similar anatomically, were easy to imitate. She learned their dominant languages ten years ago during their first visit, and since that time well over twelve thousand years had passed on Earth. She now had to learn the new ones.
Alone in her room, Nwella looked at the viewer and admired the planet with its orbiting ribbons and moons. She remembered the last time she was here in this system when she and her father went to a light green ocean. They swam in the warm water and he promised they would be back some day. He’d been horribly injured by a wild animal during a hunt, and it had cut their adventure short.
Alone in her room, Nwella looked at the viewer and admired the planet with its orbiting ribbons and moons. She remembered the last time she was here in this system when she and her father went to a light green ocean. They swam in the warm water and he promised they would be back some day. He’d been horribly injured by a wild animal during a hunt, and it had cut their adventure short.
Nwella was anxious to see the success of her father and his project bring them into a new era when resources would be more plentiful. She could start her own dominion and have innumerable adventures available to her.
If he failed, they, as a family, would drop into obscurity. This had always been a risk. It was the nature of their opportunity, as her father put it.
If he failed, they, as a family, would drop into obscurity. This had always been a risk. It was the nature of their opportunity, as her father put it.
Nwella knew she was expected in the common room to celebrate their arrival. She didn’t feel like going, but it was required of her position. She was looking her best. She had just completed a few minutes standing in the health light, had thoroughly oiled her hairless body, and had a vibrant glow across her skin. Provenger prized the tone of their skin as an indication of internal health, which it was, just as they tended to consider the roundness of their bald heads as an indication of their intelligence, which they knew it was not.
Though she was thirty-seven, Nwella looked about seventeen years old due to the Recombinant technology that kept them young. Their walks through this wonder of science applied their wave technology to filter their DNA of errors. It made them young. It made Nwella who she was. She had deep brown eyes that dominated her surrounding delicate bone structure, and light features that concealed a volatile nature. She had a drive to possess something extraordinary, and an impulse to shock the structure in which she lived. She didn’t have many close friends and didn’t really know why. She felt she should have many, given her beauty, intelligence, and humility.
Though she was thirty-seven, Nwella looked about seventeen years old due to the Recombinant technology that kept them young. Their walks through this wonder of science applied their wave technology to filter their DNA of errors. It made them young. It made Nwella who she was. She had deep brown eyes that dominated her surrounding delicate bone structure, and light features that concealed a volatile nature. She had a drive to possess something extraordinary, and an impulse to shock the structure in which she lived. She didn’t have many close friends and didn’t really know why. She felt she should have many, given her beauty, intelligence, and humility.
She quickly finished dressing in her best public gown, a special one she had selected just for this occasion. It was even more revealing than the traditional type and would display the curves of her body well--her attempt to shock in a way that was allowed.
It was incumbent upon a female of her position to exhibit her form, and she would not disappoint. As typical with the unmarried female’s public gown, her neckline began with a high, stiff collar decorated with blue and gold beads that, at the shoulders, plunged outside the breasts to below the navel, exposing her entire chest and flat stomach. Her long muscular legs were completely exposed on the right side to the waist while the gown dropped almost to the floor on the left. On formal or recreational occasions Provenger wore no shoes. Footwear was seen as an obstacle to the grounding of their body to the structure of the ship and to the foundation of their posture, both from an electrical and structural standpoint.
It was incumbent upon a female of her position to exhibit her form, and she would not disappoint. As typical with the unmarried female’s public gown, her neckline began with a high, stiff collar decorated with blue and gold beads that, at the shoulders, plunged outside the breasts to below the navel, exposing her entire chest and flat stomach. Her long muscular legs were completely exposed on the right side to the waist while the gown dropped almost to the floor on the left. On formal or recreational occasions Provenger wore no shoes. Footwear was seen as an obstacle to the grounding of their body to the structure of the ship and to the foundation of their posture, both from an electrical and structural standpoint.
Nwella assumed a pose and gave the verbal command, “freeze.” She then stepped away and looked back, making one last examination of her holographic image. There she was in perfect detail, her body and attire from all sides. She reached out her hand with a wave motion to spin the image and view it from all angles. She was satisfied. She left a few minutes late and walked out the door to the waiting shuttle. “Grand Common Room,” she said clearly, and the shuttle sped off down a massive corridor, filled with hundreds of vehicles and levels of walkways where Provenger lived, worked, strolled, and shopped.
In the Grand Common Room there would be suitors lining the wall when she arrived--males on the right, females on the left. She would walk the right side, on her toes to make her calves look their best. They would all be focused on her, and whether she liked them or not, she would have to cheek the males. They would reach out to greet her, purposely brushing their arms across her exposed nipples, presuming to be oblivious of the fact. When she continued down the line, each would check to see if their touch had made them rigid and puckered. It was part of the game. Then they would walk away, concerned about being too close to her. The females would ignore her, and she would feel alone again.
In the Grand Common Room there would be suitors lining the wall when she arrived--males on the right, females on the left. She would walk the right side, on her toes to make her calves look their best. They would all be focused on her, and whether she liked them or not, she would have to cheek the males. They would reach out to greet her, purposely brushing their arms across her exposed nipples, presuming to be oblivious of the fact. When she continued down the line, each would check to see if their touch had made them rigid and puckered. It was part of the game. Then they would walk away, concerned about being too close to her. The females would ignore her, and she would feel alone again.
Chapter 5
TuesdAy morning, Cortez, ColorAdo
Rick was up early, as usual, going through his morning routine: feed Barnes and Nobelle, his two German Shepherds, do his “20 and 80” (twenty pull ups and eighty sit ups, Marine Corps style), sprint to the mailbox about two hundred yards down the driveway, get the mail, sprint back, and then do pushups. He did all this in the cold November morning wearing only shorts and boots.
Rick’s home in Cortez was typical for a civil servant toward the end of his career. If it was seen as quality, it was due to his ability to make the most out of a modest but sufficient salary. If it was wanting in certain quality it would be due to the expenses of attorneys necessary for the many legal disputes of divorce. To someone driving by, it could be perceived as a sprawling adobe style ranch house on some beautiful high desert acreage with extensive views of the surrounding countryside.
Rick’s home in Cortez was typical for a civil servant toward the end of his career. If it was seen as quality, it was due to his ability to make the most out of a modest but sufficient salary. If it was wanting in certain quality it would be due to the expenses of attorneys necessary for the many legal disputes of divorce. To someone driving by, it could be perceived as a sprawling adobe style ranch house on some beautiful high desert acreage with extensive views of the surrounding countryside.
The general uphill slope to the north of the town of Cortez provided most homes, randomly situated, a sometimes outstanding view. Rick’s three bedroom, three bath, ranch house on twelve acres provided that luxury. On that general slope, Rick’s house sat atop a prominence providing slight downhill slopes on all sides. From his back patio and its adjacent small patch of struggling lawn, one could take in, with a casual scan to the southeast, Mesa Verde National Park and Sleeping Ute Mountain to the south, with the Four Corners nestled somewhere between them in the distance. Further to the right, to the southwest, was the gentle rise of a plateau hiding in its desiccated drainages some of the roughest desert canyon areas of Colorado, trailing further west into Utah. The house lived among the usual pinion pine and juniper cedar high desert forest that held a surprising number of mule deer, coyote, and jack rabbit, with the occasional mountain lion and bear. The privacy of his place was complete with much of his property surrounded by some irrigated fields and undeveloped land with only the occasional neighbor.
Rick took advantage of the size and position of his land to shoot a variety of weapons to practice marksmanship, but he never took any game there. It was a kind of pact he had with the wildlife. He would live there in peace, and so would they. It provided him with the additional benefit of being able to simply observe their behavior.
Rick took advantage of the size and position of his land to shoot a variety of weapons to practice marksmanship, but he never took any game there. It was a kind of pact he had with the wildlife. He would live there in peace, and so would they. It provided him with the additional benefit of being able to simply observe their behavior.
Rick was unusually well provisioned on his government salary, but only due to his frugal nature. He had a great collection of guns, one for every occasion. He had a wood shop adjacent to the house, a three-car garage complete with his old jeep, a newer Dodge Charger, and a pickup truck. Under a carport outside was his 17-foot fishing boat that served every purpose he could think of, from the nearby McPhee Reservoir to Utah’s Lake Powel, where he frequently camped. He had a John Deere tractor with a front end loader and a backhoe. And he had his health. He had seen to that. He had a short time to retirement with his work for the NSA and was intent on spending the rest of his life helping Carson get a good start. His free time would be spent fading into the mountains and desert wastes. The end.
He was in the kitchen heating some venison stew left over from the night before, just starting to break a sweat from his quick workout and the warmer indoor temperature of his house, when Carson finally rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen.
He was in the kitchen heating some venison stew left over from the night before, just starting to break a sweat from his quick workout and the warmer indoor temperature of his house, when Carson finally rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen.
“Morning, Dad.”
“Morning, Carson, how’d you sleep?”
“Morning, Carson, how’d you sleep?”
“Okay, but I’ve been having the craziest dreams.” Carson rubbed his eyes, finding a seed in the left one. He tried to rub it out of the tear duct. “I can remember them when I first wake up, but then I fall back to sleep and I forget.”
“Put a pad and pencil by your bed and write it down as soon as you wake up. Then if you go back to sleep…” Rick trailed off. “You want some stew?”
“Put a pad and pencil by your bed and write it down as soon as you wake up. Then if you go back to sleep…” Rick trailed off. “You want some stew?”
“Yes, please.” Carson sat at the table as Barnes walked up, nosed him, and gave him a small lick on the elbow. Nobelle circled him and watched. “The funny thing is when I dream, it’s not like I’m imagining something, it’s like I’m remembering it. Does that make sense?”
“I think I know what you mean. Maybe its genetic knowledge you’re becoming aware of.” Rick glared at his son, slowly cocking his head with raised eyebrows and whistling the Twilight Zone theme. Rick put a bowl of stew in front of him and stuck a raw carrot in it. “You ready for your test today? You weren’t up very late last night.”
“I think I know what you mean. Maybe its genetic knowledge you’re becoming aware of.” Rick glared at his son, slowly cocking his head with raised eyebrows and whistling the Twilight Zone theme. Rick put a bowl of stew in front of him and stuck a raw carrot in it. “You ready for your test today? You weren’t up very late last night.”
Carson began to eat. “I’m ready, more ready than anyone else in my class, if I can judge by all the texts I got last night. For some reason, everyone was after me with questions.”
“They needed your help. You’re a smart kid. Take after your dad, no doubt.” Rick sat down across from him and stared.
“They needed your help. You’re a smart kid. Take after your dad, no doubt.” Rick sat down across from him and stared.
“Are you going to eat?” Carson asked.
“Nah. I ate yesterday,” Rick replied with a smile, “I’m just not hungry. Maybe dinner tonight with you. Today’s my fast day.”
“Nah. I ate yesterday,” Rick replied with a smile, “I’m just not hungry. Maybe dinner tonight with you. Today’s my fast day.”
“So, I was talking yesterday with the guys at school.” Carson began randomly, “How many evil toddlers do you think you could take on, like in a fight?”
Rick liked this kind of “what if” question, and he and Carson would often have fun with them. Rick looked at him as seriously as he could. “Toddlers, eh? Do I have a weapon?”
Rick liked this kind of “what if” question, and he and Carson would often have fun with them. Rick looked at him as seriously as he could. “Toddlers, eh? Do I have a weapon?”
“No weapons.”
“Do they keep coming at me or do I have a rest period?”
“Do they keep coming at me or do I have a rest period?”
“They keep coming at you.”
“Do I kill them or do I just throw them off of me?”
“Do I kill them or do I just throw them off of me?”
“It’s a fight to the death, so do anything you need to.”
“How fast are they? Normal toddler speed?”
“How fast are they? Normal toddler speed?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I move around … run from them?”
“Can I move around … run from them?”
“Not really. Let’s say they’re just everywhere, an unlimited number of evil toddlers all coming at you without letting up. How many could you take?”
“Let’s see. Not knowing how quickly I could dispatch a single toddler, having never done it before, and considering that all the other toddlers would be coming at me simultaneously, I think I could answer the question better by estimating how long I could last from this toddler onslaught, rather than how many I could take.” Rick continued slowly. “For instance, no doubt a pile would accumulate around me, a kind of protective barrier of unconscious or…” he nodded knowingly at Carson, “expired malicious toddlers.”
“Let’s see. Not knowing how quickly I could dispatch a single toddler, having never done it before, and considering that all the other toddlers would be coming at me simultaneously, I think I could answer the question better by estimating how long I could last from this toddler onslaught, rather than how many I could take.” Rick continued slowly. “For instance, no doubt a pile would accumulate around me, a kind of protective barrier of unconscious or…” he nodded knowingly at Carson, “expired malicious toddlers.”
Rick cleared his throat. “This could limit my mobility and affect my footing. But now that I think of it, their footing would be even worse, given those tiny legs. Of course, this developing mound of toddlers would no doubt create a kind of wall, somewhat akin to the 1415 Battle of Agincourt, limiting their access to me.”
Carson chuckled.
Carson chuckled.
“This could provide some time to rest, giving me a distinct advantage.” His dad continued. “If I could rest, and depending on how long it took the toddlers to climb the resulting barrier of decommissioned tots and how high I could throw them to the top of the pile, though toddlers are pretty good climbers, that could provide me with some precious time.”
Rick stood and began to pace around the table as Carson ate and watched him. “A knight of the realm in good physical condition could swing his sword for no more than about fifteen minutes before having to be replaced by the knight behind him. So, with only my hands,” Rick held them out and looked at them, “and dealing with toddlers, I think I could last twenty minutes, maybe twenty-two.” Rick paused and leaned in, close to Carson’s face. “Do they bite?”
Rick stood and began to pace around the table as Carson ate and watched him. “A knight of the realm in good physical condition could swing his sword for no more than about fifteen minutes before having to be replaced by the knight behind him. So, with only my hands,” Rick held them out and looked at them, “and dealing with toddlers, I think I could last twenty minutes, maybe twenty-two.” Rick paused and leaned in, close to Carson’s face. “Do they bite?”
Carson laughed and slurped down the rest of his stew.
“Carson, I’ve gotta spread some winter wheat on the primal estate during lunch. How about helping me load the truck?”
“Carson, I’ve gotta spread some winter wheat on the primal estate during lunch. How about helping me load the truck?”
“Yeah, no problem,” Carson replied, still smiling from his dad’s monologue.
Rick had a fifty acre plot on the west side of town that he’d bought two years ago. It came with ten shares of irrigation, which is to say roughly ten acres could be irrigated, which in that desert country meant you could coax something out of the ground. Rick didn’t plant all of it, but he did like to seed as much as he could. It attracted wildlife, particularly mule deer. In the winter, elk would arrive from somewhere. Rick wasn’t sure if it was the nearby San Juan Range or from the canyons, maybe both. For the cost of a few dozen bags of winter wheat and alfalfa, he could be assured of attracting and perpetuating the populations of the game he loved the most. It was an easy choice. Some people bought their grain-fattened meat at the store. He attracted and killed his forage-fed game from the field. He felt it was his right as a human, his right as a born predatory animal. He called this right and the land, his primal estate.
For Rick, diet went further than preference. With past health issues, the type of foods he consumed made all the difference, and it would with Carson. Rick considered Carson’s cancer an issue of diet. It was a disease of affluence. It must come from the abundance of continual and misappropriated foods of affluence.
For Rick, diet went further than preference. With past health issues, the type of foods he consumed made all the difference, and it would with Carson. Rick considered Carson’s cancer an issue of diet. It was a disease of affluence. It must come from the abundance of continual and misappropriated foods of affluence.
BOOK: Primal Estate: The Candidate Species
6.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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