Return to Eden Read online

  Return to Eden

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter One

  Return to Eden

  By

  Kaitlyn O’Connor

  (C) Copyright by Kaitlyn O’Connor, May 2014

  Cover art by Jenny Dixon, May 2014

  Smashwords Edition

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  “Don’t be absurd! There are no intelligent life-forms out there … with the exception of the colonies.”

  Several of the scientists in the forum uttered appreciative chuckles, as if the reference to the colonists was the punch line of a private joke. Aidan felt his face heat—mostly with anger, although there was also a touch of discomfort. He should’ve become immune to the barbs of his peers considering how many times he’d been swept up in this same debate, he thought with disgust. He supposed he was developing a thicker hide, because, for once, he didn’t lose his temper. “I wasn’t suggesting intelligent life-forms. I suggested there might be higher life-forms on one, or all, of the target planets in the G-1493 system. From the data we’ve gathered, it seems to be a relatively young system—comparatively speaking, but it’s certainly old enough for higher life-forms to have evolved. It isn’t our place to decide whether these higher life-forms have a right to exist or if those that evolved on the home world are superior and therefore more deserving of existence.”

  Hatim, the lead scientist on the forum, glared at him. “You’re suggesting we plant ships full of colonists on alien worlds to deal with alien life-forms?”

  Moshe nodded. He always agreed with Hatim. The man should try to develop original thoughts, Aidan thought with disgust, or at least a spine.

  “Better the devil you know,” he said sagely.

  “We can’t be assured that the environment would be conducive to our colonists without the terra-formers,” Lazar said in a kindly voice that suggested he was trying to explain something to a person that was mildly retarded.

  Aidan’s temper leapt up another notch. “So, once again, we play gods? We drop the terra-formers on the hapless life-forms that may already be there, destroying them and replacing everything with our own seeds? We’ve barely scratched the surface in our studies of these worlds! There’s been no real attempt to discover what kind of life might already be flourishing there. The telescopes aren’t designed for that and we haven’t sent out any probes—as we should before we make this kind of decision. Maybe we should reconsider sending colonists there?” he said tightly.

  If he’d suggested they all kiss his ass he didn’t think he could’ve shocked them more. Hatim so far forgot himself that he dropped all pretense of civility. “Are you out of your mind?” he roared. “When have we discovered a system that even begins to compare to G-1493? Three planets! Three! All within the temperate zone. All rock planets. All with similar gravity and pressure—well within our comfort range once they’re terra-formed.”

  The forum promptly disintegrated, all decorum vanishing out the door. No one seemed to realize that everyone else in the room was in complete agreement. They began arguing loud and long over the merits of colonizing G-1493. Aidan was angry enough by that time that he was inclined to stay and argue his own issues, but he could see that it was pointless. They’d made up their minds before the forum was ever called. They’d only attended to make sure that their particular interests were considered.

  He supposed, if it came to that, so had he.

  There were times—like these—when he almost regretted his decision to become a linguistic anthropologist—any kind of anthropologist! Specializing in linguistics when there were no languages left to decipher only made his situation more frustrating. It didn’t look like he was ever going to get the chance to apply his knowledge beyond the home world, and there was very little, now, to be discovered on the home world.

  Colonization had been well established by the time he’d gotten to college, however, and it had seemed the perfect field for him—combining his facility for language with his interest in cultural development.

  Unfortunately, by the time he was working on his masters, a brilliant team of scientists had developed the genesis terra-formers. Even he could see that it was a brilliant concept. By breaking down everything on the target planet and sowing the seeds of beginning life from their own world, and accelerating the process of evolution, they’d achieved far more success in terra-forming than prior efforts. The terra-formers insured that, when colonists arrived, they stepped out on a world that truly was their own—a young Eden, fresh and burgeoning with life, and ready to be molded.

  The problem, as far he could see, was that it had gone to their heads—the ability to play gods. Gone were the days when they thoroughly examined and probed the potential colony worlds they found. Granted, in the decades they’d spent colonizing other worlds before the genesis terra-formers they hadn’t discovered anything but microbial life, and precious little of that, but that didn’t rule out the presence of higher life-forms as far as he could see. It didn’t rule out the possibility of intelligent life, although he wasn’t crazy enough, or comfortable enough in that belief to openly suggest such a thing. There were far too many worlds that could support life to rule out the possibility of higher life-forms having developed or even intelligent life.

  Grabbing his papers, Aidan shoved them into his satchel with a violence that suggested that he would’ve preferred shoving them down Hatim’s throat. The thought did cross his mind.

  On the other hand, Hatim had only voiced the thoughts of the forum as a whole, he thought with frustration, stalking from the chambers. Choking the life out of the bastard might help his feelings—briefly—but it wasn’t going to change anything else except his status as a free citizen.

  * * * *

  Aidan wasn’t generally inclined toward impulsiveness. Not only was it his nature to consider the consequences of possible actions before he leapt, but he was inclined to think that his intelligence would overrule any tendency to leap before he looked even if he’d had that particular trait in his genetic markers.

  He wasn’t completely comfortable in his mind, therefore, when he found himself in route to the G-1493 system, grimly determined as he was to beat the genesis terra-formers to the target worlds and uncover proof of his theory of the existence of higher life-forms on other worlds.

  Part of that discomfort arose from the ethical issues behind his mission—most of it actually.

  From the moment the thought had occurred to him—while still in the throes of his frustration and rage over his inability to reason with his peers—he’d seen the astronomical odds against actually doing the deed. He needed transportation and that was the biggest roadblock. He had short range transport, but nothing with the capability of reaching G-1493 and, just as importantly, returning with the life-form inside—him—intact.

  He also wasn’t prone to associate with the sort of people that might be able to help him in that area—even if he could come up with the credits to pay for illegal transport.

  Soul-searching had produced the credits he needed, but although he’d managed to justify the use of his research funds for the expedition in his mind, he knew, deep down, that his use of funds int
ended for research on the home world was a long way from being the most ethical thing he’d ever done. It was true that he hoped/intended to put the credits to use for anthropological research, but he couldn’t pretend, even in his mind, that the government agency that had provided the funding would approve of his choice of location for his research.

  He’d deal with that, he decided, when and if the time came. He was certain—hopeful—that his mission would be successful and the agency would be so awed and thrilled with his findings that they would dismiss the little matter of the funds having been used to study alien life rather than cultural aspects of their own world.

  The ship, as it turned out, wasn’t as difficult to obtain as he’d hoped/feared it would be—hoped because his niggling doubts had led him to think he might be better off if he failed to obtain the wherewithal to shit-can his career. Feared because, at the same time, his certainty that he was right and he would find just what he expected would insure that he actually had a career notable enough to warrant the years he’d spent studying to make his mark on the scientific community—to make history.

  He’d tracked down an old schoolmate whose reputation was a little less than sterling due to his tendency toward ‘grave robbing’. Aidan had always considered that that sobriquet was splitting hairs. Lance was an archeologist, after all, and the very nature of that discipline was grave-robbing, or at least desecration since there was no way to study ancient civilizations without digging them up and, naturally, that included a tomb now and then. His tendency to sell artifacts of value on the black-market wasn’t exactly ethical, but then again, like everyone else in his particular field, there were always funding problems. It wasn’t greed or lack of appreciation for the history he uncovered, Aidan reasoned, but practicality. He always dutifully turned over the best of his finds to the government for their museums—or vaults.

  Lance was suspicious when he first broached the subject, but it wasn’t hard to stimulate his interest in the possibilities. Alien artifacts, if any could be found, would be tremendously more valuable than anything he’d managed to unearth on the home world.

  Lance arranged transportation by purchasing a revamped interstellar ship that Aidan had an uneasy feeling had been used by pirates since it looked far more like a luxury yacht than a research vehicle or even a commercial transport.

  He resolutely closed his mind to that possibility, however, focusing on the importance of his proposed mission. If he could find what he was looking for, it meant more than a huge boon to his career. It meant saving who knew how many higher life-forms.

  The shared guilt of what they intended comforted him, as well. Realistically, he knew it wouldn’t make a bit of difference if the authorities decided to prosecute. They would both be charged, but Lance didn’t seem to be overly concerned about that possibility and he was insensibly cheered by Lance’s attitude.

  He wasn’t superstitious but, in retrospect, he wondered if he shouldn’t have considered it an evil omen that Lance was so severely injured on his latest dig-site that hospitalization was required and he was unable to communicate—due to his coma—much less join Aidan when the time came to leave. Instead, he loaded his supplies and took off alone, his grim determination to see it through unshaken.

  That determination to ignore ‘bad luck vibes’ suffered a setback when he made his first fold/jump. He’d experienced the jumps before. As a linguistic anthropologist in a time when very few ‘new’ discoveries were made of ancient civilizations, most of his living was made following the lecture circuit and most of his studies involved the evolution of language and culture on the outpost colonies. He’d never actually performed a jump himself, however, having previously traveled via commercial transportation and it made him extremely uneasy to hold his own life in his hands when he wasn’t trained to pilot a ship—at least not an interstellar one.

  As he had from the moment he’d conceived the hair-brained notion to investigation G-1493 himself since he couldn’t convince the scientific community to do so, though, he merely gritted his teeth, closed his mind to the possibility of disaster, and did it.

  He was a man on a mission and he wasn’t going to allow anything to deter him, certainly not the minute possibility that the computer might malfunction in the antiquated ship he was using or miscalculate the jump exit in uncharted space and emerge in the middle of a meteor field.

  A little shaken but relieved when the first fold was performed flawlessly, he was able to put disaster from his mind and focus on his goal as the ship performed the next three jump/folds as flawlessly as the first. Particularly since he emerged from the last with his goal in sight.

  That was when he discovered the bastards at the forum had kept him out of the loop.

  Chugging along at sub-light speed since it wasn’t safe to fold within a system, he was nearing the first of the trio of planets that were the targets for the terra-formers when he saw hundreds of bursts of light that indicated impacts on the planet’s surface. Shock held him in its blank grip for a handful of minutes, his mind struggling to decipher the explanation for the explosions.

  Then comprehension hit him.

  He was too late! The fucking bastards had sent the terra-formers!

  That was when Aidan did something impulsive for the first time in his life.

  He shot toward the surface of the target planet in a desperate attempt to collect data of some kind before it was lost forever in the dust of reconstruction. The landing was a hard enough jolt to jog his mind into gear—to a degree. He was scrambling into a suit while the ship performed the landing maneuver and out the hatch so fast upon contact that he was pitched by the lurch of the rough landing down the gangplank and landed hard enough to knock the wind out of him for several moments. Struggling for breath, he pushed himself to his feet and looked around—realizing several things at once.

  Theoretically, his ship was safe from the terra-formers since it was made of an alloy that the nanites weren’t programmed to break down.

  That was only a theory, however. Once the terra-formers were sent out to do their job, no one landed on the target colony until the terra-forming was completed and the cycle of breaking down suitable materials for terra-forming and accelerated evolution was terminated. In other words, it hadn’t actually been put to the test.

  Secondly, he’d been in such a rush to get out and actually see the planet that he hadn’t thought to grab his equipment to record what he might find.

  And third, even he could see this was a dead world. If any higher life-forms had evolved they’d long since vanished.

  The sinking feeling that he was going to find the same thing on all three planets hit him like a wrecking ball and visions of incarceration for his actions, to say nothing of the death of his career, filled his mind.

  There were still two more worlds to check! Since there were no visible signs of higher life on the planet he’d landed on and he didn’t think he had the time to look for more subtle signs, he scrambled back into the ship and, after a very little thought, programmed the ship to head directly for the third planet from the sun since it sat in the most desirable orbit around its parent star. The other two, he told himself, had always been the least likely since they both sat at the outer edges of what was considered the habitable zone—at least for life-forms similar to what could be found on his own world and therefore easily recognizable as life-forms.

  Aidan wasn’t technical minded. He knew how to use the very limited equipment necessary for his work. He knew how to use the very limited technology he could afford for his home, but he was no techno geek. For him, technology was a tool, not a toy. He used what he needed, learned what he needed to know to use what he needed, and otherwise had no interest in the electronics he depended on. If they broke, he either replaced them as he could afford to, or he sent them out for repairs if that was possible and more affordable than replacing them.

  Like everyone else, however, he depended completely on the technology that surrounded him. />
  He was, therefore, completely taken off guard when his onboard computer suddenly squawked out the warning ‘imminent collision!’ about a nanosecond before the actual impact. He’d been in too big of a rush to get to the next planet before the terra-formers could begin to destroy the evidence he was seeking to strap his safety harness on and the impact threw him to the floor of the cockpit. By the time he managed to get to his feet, the computer was screaming out the damage report—distracting to say the least—but he managed to stumble to a port to see what the hell his ship had managed to hit in what should have been open space. All the while his mind was trying to figure out how the ship had managed to hit anything at all when it was equipped with sensors from nose to tail that should have detected and either evaded or deflected whatever the object was and he struggled with the unhappy, unnerving possibility that the landing—controlled crash—on the previous planet just might have damaged a few vital components on the ship.

  What he saw now barreling planet-ward faster than his own ship so stunned him that it was many seconds, maybe as much as minute, before it clicked in his mind what it was.

  The ship hadn’t collided with a rogue meteor as his mind had instantly concluded.

  The object racing away from him wasn’t a meteor or a rock of any kind. It wasn’t a natural body that had been orbiting the planet that his ship’s sensors had failed to detect and deflect.

  It was artificial. It was manmade.

  And it had been orbiting the planet.

  His breath froze in his chest as the implications sank in. His heart leapt against his chest wall painfully.

  It took his mind a bit longer to catch up to his body’s instinctual reaction.

  This planet didn’t just harbor higher life-forms! It was the home of intelligent life-forms advanced enough technologically that they weren’t planet bound!

  “Good gods!” Aidan exclaimed, feeling a momentary high generated by the excitement that leapt in his veins at that discovery.