Kaerth of Cydonia

By James Crawford

 

No one ever really knows exactly when the Awakening begins. The road out of the Sleep runs through a vast frontier of ethereal dreams and past recollections. The first stage, one barely remembered into consciousness, is a formless void of blended color and emotion, expressive, yet totally incoherent. This fantasy-nightmare sensation has been likened to the first embryonic experiences. The next territory in the journey to consciousness, the border of which is indistinguishably lost in the merging, is a wild collage of sounds, structures, voices, smells, and equations. It is made up of bits of memories, old and new, void of chronology or connection. Then slowly, as consciousness just begins to take shape, the thoughts begin to take on uniformity. The family, the friends, the hard but loving land, the Kraith Kraithnai (which translated means “The One who calls to the Original Ones”), and the Great Pyramids, aligned with the star of the Original Ones at their Day of Departure. It is not until the final stage of the journey when one first experiences self-awareness.

The first sensation Kaerth Naghitih had connecting him with his actual surroundings was suffocation. He was not breathing. This did not frighten him at first, but puzzled him. As his mind dwelt on this, in a detached thoughtfulness, he also became aware of the heavy moisture in the air around him. He could feel the warm humidity on his face and neck. Until now, he had no way to judge his orientation, but presently he became aware of the fact that he was lying on his back on a hard, flat surface.

As he lie in the dark, saturated in warm, moist air, the urge to breathe became more intense. He knew he should breathe, and he tried to, but couldn’t. The realization that he was willing himself to inhale but could not made him afraid. His lips parted and his nostrils flared slightly as his diaphragm began to strain to pull air into his lungs. With his eyes still shut and his fear bordering on panic, Kaerth strained to breathe. He knew he was in danger now and his chest heaved with the effort, his abdomen quivering in desperation. Then he felt his throat open suddenly. The air was coming in.

The layers of membrane in his lungs that had been stuck together began to separate as the air forced its way deeper and deeper into his body. The long, full inhalation continued to the bottom of his lungs, filling him with the warm, moisture-laden air. Kaerth held his breath there for a few moments, stretching the lungs open wide, then exhaled fully.

The next breath came much easier and he became aware of his heart beating in his chest. He was calmer now and as his breathing became more regular the lining in his lungs greedily absorbed the moisture in the air along with the oxygen. The blood circulated the water throughout his body to his thirsty tissues. He knew at this point that he was still unable to move his arms or legs. The exertion of merely breathing fatigued him and he began to drift off to sleep. But it wasn’t the Sleep from which he had just awakened. It was a rejuvenating, restful sleep.

As Kaerth’s consciousness faded, his mind began to fill with questions. Where are the Elder Ministers? Where is my family? Something is not right…

 

Hours later Kaerth began to wake slowly. He had been dreaming about the first time he had joined his son to wake his grandson from the Sleep. The child had smiled as he opened his eyes and saw his father and Kaerth. They, who had stood over him during the whole revival process, holding his hands and speaking lovingly, were also the last faces the child had seen before he went into the Sleep. Kaerth’s heart warmed at the recollection. That had been many, many years ago, before the winters had grown so long.

As Kaerth began to rouse, he became aware of light beyond his eyelids. He also noticed a muffled bumping sound that was mixed with a delicate, high-pitched staccato buzz. He could feel his whole body now and he was still lying on his back. He opened his eyes slowly.

Above him an intense whiteness forced him to squint. It was a light source that seemed brighter than the sun yet gave no heat. He desired to turn away from it, to shield sensitive eyes long used to the dark. He brought his hands up to his waist and, pushing against the hard, flat surface, raised himself to a sitting position.

His eyes looked around him and his heart began to sink with foreboding. Instead of the loving presence of his father and grandfather, he was alone. Instead of the dim, cool aridity of his family chamber, he was in the brightly lit, warm humidity of a strange room. The low ceiling seemed to be made of porous stone slabs, many of which glowed with an intense brilliance that drove out all shadows. To the left and right of him, along the wall and almost within reach, were long blocks of another kind of stone. Looking closely he could see that they were actually different types of stone stuck together, square cut with dangerously sharp edges. Atop them were other stone blocks of various shapes and sizes and many finely carved stone instruments or tools. The tools were very small and many had been polished to such a high degree that they had no color of their own, but simply reflected the brilliant light that penetrated every part of the room.

Kaerth turned and swung his legs down over the edge of the long stone block he had been lying on. He put his feet against the ground, testing his weight on them, and stood up. His legs were strong and steady. He looked around the rest of the room and his blood ran cold. At the far end of the room two figures stood motionless against the wall.

Although they had arms, legs, torso, and something of a head, they were definitely alien creatures of another world. Short, a little over half his size and very pudgy, their skin hung baggy and crinkled and gleaming white. But to Kaerth the most shocking thing of all was that the creatures had no face. In place of it a huge, smooth membrane resembling an eye stared unblinking. Inside of the eye membrane he could just make out some kind of strange organ that rotated from side to side occasionally, with small shutters that opened and closed rapidly.

Kaerth froze, at once repulsed and frightened and confused. But summoning the courage of his warrior ancestors, he resolved not to let it show. He stood in a defensive posture, waiting for them to attack him. But they did nothing. As he stood transfixed by their motionless gaze, it began to dawn on him that perhaps they meant him no harm. He summoned his courage to speak to them.

“Love and peace, my brothers,” Kaerth said, “I am Kaerth.”

The aliens made no gesture, but Kaerth heard a muffled, high-pitched buzzing sound. Perhaps they were trying to speak to him.

“I don’t understand you. Can you speak my language?” he tried. “Where am I?”

The aliens did not respond.

Kaerth slowly took a few steps toward them. “Where is my family?” He tried to gesture as he spoke. “Where are the rest of my people?”

The aliens did not respond but stiffened as he approached. He stopped and looked at them intently. Why didn’t they at least try to communicate with him? They had to know where he was from. If they had brought him from his family chamber, then they had to know where the rest of his family was. Perhaps they were close by. Perhaps they were in another room.

“Why don’t you answer me?” Kaerth demanded. He now stood at the end of the long block that he had been lying on, frustrated by their intransigence.

“You have no right to take someone from his home without an explanation! Where are the Elder Ministers, our keepers while we sleep?” Kaerth said. These aliens had to have met them first. “What have you done with them? Answer me!” he shouted.

More buzzing from the aliens, then they parted and moved toward him. They moved quickly despite their pudgy, baggy-skinned bodies. In another moment they would take up positions on either side of Kaerth.

Not knowing their intentions, Kaerth took a step and reached out to stop the alien on his right. His fingernails inadvertently caught on the alien’s baggy skin and, to his horror and amazement, tore the skin open at the shoulder. The tear ran down the arm and up along the eye membrane and across the top of the head. The suddenness of the tear jerked the alien to a halt. It turned to face Kaerth as the skin fell away.

Astounded, Kaerth realized that beneath the eye membrane was the actual face of the alien, a face not unlike his own, but very fleshly with diminutive features on a flat profile. Covering the top and sides of the head were a growth of fine tentacles. Its small mouth gaped open and Kaerth could see its tiny teeth. The creature’s beady eyes stared at him, blinking occasionally. He released the skin and grasped the creature around the stalk of flesh below the head. The other alien paused a moment, then continued to the other end of the room, disappearing through a door and into a hall beyond.

Kaerth brought the creature’s face close to his own. He spoke calmly and firmly through the high pitched buzzing noise that the alien was making. “I want to know where I am. Where are my children? Where is everyone?” He gently shook the creature. “Don’t I deserve an answer?”

Outside, the thick cloud cover broke open and a shaft of sunlight came in through a high window that Kaerth hadn’t noticed before. He dragged the alien over to it and peered outside. Beyond the barren terrain of rock and boulder strewn sand stood a row of angular mountains. They were nearly unrecognizable in their eroded condition, but Kaerth knew them. They were the Great Pyramids of the Original Ones. Beyond them he could see the distinct outline of the mountain of the Kraith Kraithnai and his heart sank with despair.

“Oh, no,” he breathed, his voice quavering. “What has happened? What could have done this to our land? Where is everyone?”

Anguish rose within him, choking off the words. He began to weep. Still gripping the alien he cried, “What’s going on? Father, where are you?”

With a sharp thump the door at the far end of the room burst open and several other aliens came in, all squat and fat but without the white outer skin. One of them began to gesticulate wildly and made a chopped buzzing sound.

Kaerth didn’t respond. Loneliness, an emotion he had never felt before, had begun to grow inside him. Its intensity smothered his heart and he could no longer speak.

Another alien came in and held a tubular instrument to its mouth. He seemed to be speaking into it. Were they now finally trying to communicate with him? Through his anguish he forced himself to speak to them. He had to try. He had to know.

“Love and peace, my brothers. I am Kaerth,” he stammered.

The aliens grew quiet. Had they understood him? The one with the speaking tube seemed to buzz to the others. One buzzed in response.

Kaerth could not understand them. He felt he needed to try again. “I am of the clan of Naghitih. Can you tell me what happened here?” He released the alien and held his hands out in a conciliatory fashion.

An explosion of sound, as if a giant quarry stone had fallen from a great height. It surprised and confused him, and caused his body to shudder in pain. The aliens had not moved. Had they answered him? Were they waiting for him to respond? He took a gingerly step toward them.

Another explosion and more pain. Kaerth felt weak. The aliens remained motionless, still staring at him. He looked down and saw his body’s moisture pouring out from a large torn area of the abdomen. He tried to cover the torn area with his hands and the fluid coursed out from between his fingers and onto the floor. He understood that he was dying. He looked up at the motionless aliens. The one with the speaking tube held it upright away from his mouth now.

Kaerth’s legs grew weak and buckled under him. He fell to his knees.

Why had they done this to him? Had they done this to the other members of his family? Could any creatures be that cruel? Why?

Kaerth looked once more toward the window and to the sky beyond, no longer the sky he had known. His world was gone. As his consciousness faded, a singular thought ran through his mind.

I am the last of my people, the last of my people.

Kaerth Naghitih fell forward onto the floor, dead.

 

 

Field Reporter Vickie Harrow looked out of the tiny window at the cold terrain below. Even from an altitude of five hundred feet all she could see was a landscape of red, barren sand. The seat she shared, far too small for two people, caused her to shift her weight periodically to keep from going numb. She shifted now and tried to reposition the seatbelt bound tight against her waist. The flight crewmember next to her spoke quietly.

“Sorry it’s so tight. I’ll need to get up shortly so you’ll be able to enjoy the seat by yourself. For a few minutes anyway.”

“I’m all right,” she said. “How long until we land?”

The crewman looked at his watch. “Not long, now. Five minutes, maybe.”

Vickie nodded. She looked around the jet hopper’s passenger cabin, crammed full beyond capacity. Although the aircraft was rated to carry twenty people, twenty-five were crowded aboard, four actually sitting down in the aisle, a clear violation of safety regulations. If she had ended up in the aisle she would have been asked to leave for she didn’t have a good enough reason for being there. Only the excited conversations between all parties during boarding had allowed her to get on. A crewmember friend of a friend with whom she now sat allowed her to stay.

Those who sat in the aisles were staffers or assistants of the VIP’s who occupied the seats. The VIP’s consisted of Governor Weyburn and some of his staff, a few medical doctors and technicians, the CEO of a local mining company with a few of his vice presidents and engineers, and seven people who represented the upper crust of the scientific community on Mars, among them Dr. Kresse, Chief Project Scientist of the Mars Geological Survey. Vickie watched him nodding off to sleep. He would be her ticket inside.

A few years ago on Earth Vickie had expended much political capital to promote Dr. Kresse’s theoretical work in an article for the news magazine she had been employed with at the time. Using her influence with the editors, she had brought his work to the public and overnight he had become a household name. That recognition helped him to get to Mars to put his theories to the test. It also, of course, put her in the enviable position of being owed a favor by him, and she was now on the verge of cashing in that favor. A press corps colleague had told her that she might be wasting it, but the crowd on the hopper told her that her instincts had been right. She remembered the conversation with Dr. Kresse only thirty minutes before the flight.

“You can get me in there,” Vickie had said to Dr. Kresse.

“Not necessarily. No press allowed. That whole camp is now a restricted area.”

“But I can go as an assistant, or an understudy or something.”

Dr. Kresse rubbed his face and sighed. “Don’t you realize how it would be for me if they found out that I had brought a reporter into a restricted area? That’s a lot bigger than any favor.”

That depends on when it’s being offered, she thought. She decided on another tack. “First of all, no one there or on the way there will recognize me. Second, any one at that camp would be a more likely source than you.” She’d put her hand on his arm. “I’m not asking for any quotes or an interview, just get me in.”

Dr. Kresse had thought for a moment. “I’ll get you in the briefing, but I can’t get you to the camp. That flight list is outside my abilities. If you’re there, I’ll do my best to get you in, but that’s all I can promise.”

“Deal,” Vickie said. “It must be one hell of a mineral deposit,” she fished, but Dr. Kresse wouldn’t bite. He just shook his head slowly.

She looked over at him now as he drifted in and out of sleep. His eyes opened briefly and found her. She winked at him. He nodded absently and closed his eyes again.

You hadn’t expected me to see me on board, did you professor? Vickie smiled.

The nose of the jet hopper angled downward. The crewmember unbuckled the seatbelt and stood up. “Here I go. Talk to you later.”

“Okay. Thanks again.” Vickie buckled and adjusted the seatbelt as the crewman headed aft.

Vickie looked out of the window again while the hopper made its rapid descent, circling and waiting for clearance to land. Nearby stood some of the strangely shaped mountains of Mars’ Cydonia region. Decades ago space probes had sent back pictures of these mountains, including one that had appeared as a face on the surface of Mars. Although this had caused some excitement on Earth, chiefly in the tabloids of the day, subsequent photographs revealed no such face. But the collection of angular hills near the face, referred to as pyramids, continued to intrigue the imaginations of space enthusiasts for generations, even after humans began manned explorations of the Red Planet. Now the region was causing a stir again, and Vickie would soon scoop the story.

As the hopper swung around she could see the camp below, small, dingy, and littered with equipment. She reached into her bag hurriedly and took out her hand-held audio/video recorder. She checked the battery power again and made sure all the files were empty. The hopper touched down on the pad just as she dropped it back in the bag.

The passengers began shuffling around as they waited for the sealed corridor to be attached to the hopper and pressurized. Vickie inched her way over to where Dr. Kresse’s people stood. When the door opened she followed them out and through the corridor. At the entrance to the mining camp, a guard stood checking identification. The mining company executives went straight through, as did the Governor and his staff. Each of the scientists was checked in turn and followed the others into the hall beyond. As Vickie approached the guard she was already making a show of searching her belongings.

“Credentials, miss,” said the guard.

“I don’t understand, they were right here,” she said, rummaging through the bag. “I’m with Dr. Kresse.”

“I’m sorry, miss. This is a restricted area. I cannot let you in without proper identification.”

“Oh, bother.” She looked up and saw the professor moving away through the tube. It’s now or never. “Dr. Kresse!”

“Perhaps you left it on the hopper,” the guard offered.

“Excuse me, Dr. Kresse!”

Dr. Kresse stopped and turned around. Some of the other scientists looked back also.

“She doesn’t have her credentials, sir,” the guard said.

Dr. Kresse nodded once. “She’s with me.”

The guard hesitated, but one of the medical doctors behind her in line cleared his throat loudly. The guard let her pass and she hurried to catch up to the others.

By now a representative from the mining camp had arrived and was addressing not only the company executives, but the Governor as well. The group continued walking as the man spoke. Vickie listened intently as she casually took out and switched on her recorder.

“What kind of a problem?” one of the executives asked.

“Well, sir, as I indicated in my message to you, we had brought the specimen into the medical room and were waiting for the arrival of yourselves, the Governor and his team. Two of our technicians were in the room preparing everything for the autopsy and examination when…” He struggled to phrase the words.

“When what?” Governor Weyburn asked.

“When the specimen came alive, sir.”

“What?” another executive asked. A murmur went through the crowd.

“I understood that this creature was thousands of years old?” the Governor’s Chief of Staff asked.

“Yes, sir. That’s correct. All indications are that it is extremely old.”

“But in the pictures I saw it looked like it had been mummified,” Dr. Kresse said.

“Indeed,” another scientist said. “And yet you say it came to life?”

“Yes, sir. We’re at a total loss to explain it.”

The group passed through another set of double doors into the main area of the mining camp complex. Here other workers stood to the side and stared as the group passed.

“Where did you find this specimen?” one of the medical doctors asked.

The man from the camp faced the doctor, walking sideways as he went. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought everyone had been briefed. Three days ago our people were doing some test drilling near here and they came across a peculiar void near the surface. We cut our way into the solid rock until we could let a man down. Inside the void was a chamber with many cylindrical containers. There were passages that led to many other chambers, each one containing from five to twenty containers. We widened the hole until we could bring one of them up. We took it inside for examination and saw that it had markings on it, markings that seemed to have been some kind of language.”

“Markings made by intelligent hands?” another scientist asked.

“Yes, sir.”

They came to another set of doors where two guards stood with pump shotguns at the ready. They backed through the doors and help them open as the group came through. Beyond the door was short hall bracketed by labs. The mine representative stopped at one of the doors.

“What’s the container made of?” Dr. Kresse asked.

“Stone. Everything we found was made of one kind of stone or another. The next day we examined it further and found a seam. After a considerable effort we removed the upper lid and found the creature inside. Since it was so old we naturally assumed that the container was a coffin. We made measurements and took photographs and had planned to do the autopsy when your team arrived. But sometime between last night and this morning the creature revived. Here, this is the medical room.” He pushed the door open and they all followed him inside.

Vickie saw that the room looked more like a lab than a medical clinic. Two low cabinets ran along either side against the walls and a long table in the center had been cleared for the specimen. A long window ran along the far wall just below the ceiling. At the near end of the table a clear vinyl tent had been erected. The man from the camp pointed as he spoke.

“We’ve built a hermetically sealed enclosure over the body so you can view it.”

“Body?” the Governor said. “What happened to it?”

By now everyone had moved over to the tent and all were crowding to see. Vickie held the recorder discreetly in front of her and was taking video images of the fantastic creature inside. She estimated it to have been about eight feet tall with long, sinewy limbs. Its skin stretched tight and thin over well formed muscles and the hands and feet were long and tipped with small claws. The face was bony with a protruding jaw and nose. Although it was naked, she could see no genitalia. A large, messy wound spread across its abdomen and blood stained the floor around it.

So this is why the big secrecy, Vickie thought. They don’t think the public is ready for this kind of thing.

“How in the hell did this happen?” the CEO asked.

“Well, sir, this morning, as two of our technicians were preparing for the autopsy, the creature stood up and came at them, roaring and making a frightful noise. They were trapped at the far end of the room, over there. They made a run for it by going around the creature, but it grabbed one of the techs, ripping off her protective suit. The other tech called for help. When we came in the creature had the first tech by the throat, strangling her. She’s still pretty shook up by the whole thing. One of the guards had brought a shotgun and when it came at us he killed it.”

“This is incredible,” the Governor said. “How in the world could a creature revive after being buried for thousands of years? Have any of you gentlemen ever heard of such a thing?”

“Frogs,” Vickie said in the silence that followed the Governor’s question.

“I beg your pardon?” the Governor asked.

All eyes turned toward Vickie as she answered. “In Australia, there are frogs that bury themselves deep in the mud at the end of the rainy season. They remain there in a state of torpor throughout the dry season until the rains return. As the ground turns to mud again they revive and come out.”

“Just so,” one of the scientists said.

Silence settled through the crowd as attention turned to the dead creature once again. One of the scientists addressed the camp man, his tone caustic.

“So you people thought you’d kill the only example of extraterrestrial life, living or dead, that man has ever encountered.”

“We thought we were being threatened with our lives.”

“And you could think of no other alternative than to shoot it down?” another scientist asked.

“Sir,” the camp man said, “an eight foot tall creature with large teeth and claws had one of my people by the throat, and could very well have gone through this entire camp if it wanted to. Maybe it would look different to someone in a nice safe office hundreds of miles away, but scientific ethics were the last thing on our minds, I can assure you!”

“No one is blaming you for killing the creature,” the CEO said. “You did what you had to do for the safety of the people here. I think that what the doctor means is,” he looked hard at the doctor, “that it is a shame that, given the circumstances, we didn’t have a chance to study this creature while it was alive.”

“Study it?” Dr. Kresse said. “How about communicate with it? This creature was obviously of an intelligent race.”

“Well, there’s more down there. I’m sure we could do things differently now that we knew what to expect,” the camp man said, still stinging from the scientists’ remarks.

“Well,” Governor Weyburn said, “I for one think that we should consider this matter very carefully before we bring up another one. There are all sorts of issues to be addressed.”

“Agreed,” Dr. Kresse said, “issues such as do we have a right to revive more of them, or all of them?”

“Is there any danger of disease from them to us?” one of the doctors asked.

“Or from us to them?” Vickie asked. Several nodded.

“There are things we could teach them, and maybe things we could learn from them,” another person said.

“Things we may want to keep for ourselves,” one of the governor’s staffers said.

“Once revived, they may even have a legal right to claim the land around here,” one of the mining company executives said, receiving a stern look from the CEO.

“You see,” the Governor said, “the issues may be enormous. We need to develop policies and procedures to handle situations like this.”

Vickie looked down at the creature as the Governor spoke, her eyes lingering on the face contorted with pain. Perhaps it was merely intuition, but she felt that the suffering on its face went beyond that caused by a shotgun blast. It was something deeper, more personal, and it caused a seed of tenderness for it to grow in her heart.

“How many containers did you say there down were?” The Governor said to the camp man.

“We saw thousands of them.”

(To be continued)

If you’ve enjoyed this sketch from the setting of Mariner Valley, check out the novel Mariner Valley by James Crawford, available on all ebook platforms as well as paperback from Amazon.

Kindle –

http://www.amazon.com/Mariner-Valley-ebook/dp/B0083WPNF4/ref=tmm_kin_title_0

Nook –

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mariner-valley-james-crawford/1004593115

Kobo –

http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Mariner-Valley/book-z8SyKktAD02yZStRZgmzQw/page1.html

 

Novels by James Crawford –

Mariner Valley – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0141N9UXO

Seed of Aldebaran – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SHXTRMP

AlCent Sagas Book One: Formation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ5C3TQT

A Noble Paradise – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QG6LZ10