The Atlantis Plague(103)
She spotted the chief’s hovel instantly. It was larger and adorned with ivory tusks. Two muscled men stood guard at the entrance. They stepped aside as she approached.
Inside, an elderly man and woman sat in a corner. The alphas. They looked so old, so withered. They had never fully recovered from their near-starvation in the cave. Three males sat around a square stone platform in the center of the hut, discussing what looked like a map or some sort of drawing. They all rose. The taller male stepped toward Kate, but the elderly man stood on shaky limbs and waved him back. He bowed to Kate, then turned and pointed at the wall. A series of primitive drawings were spread out in a line. The helmet translated them:
Before the Sky God, there was only darkness. The Sky God remade man in his image and created a new world, lush and fertile for him. The Sky God brought back the sun and promised that it would shine so long as man lived in the image of God and protected his kingdom.
It was a creation myth. A surprisingly accurate one. Their minds had advanced in a great leap forward, achieving self-awareness and problem-solving abilities they had never before known. They had focused their newfound intellect on the greatest questions of all: How did we get here? What are we? Who created us? What is our purpose?
For the first time, they realized the mysteries surrounding their existence, and they groped for answers, as all emerging species do. In the absence of absolute answers, they had recorded their interpretations of what they believed had happened.
Her partner sounded nervous now. “This is extremely dangerous.”
“Maybe not—”
“They are not ready for this,” her partner declared with finality.
They were too young for mythology, but if their minds had already come this far, the religion that followed could be a powerful tool. “We can fix this. This… could save them.”
Her partner didn’t answer.
The silence weighed on Kate. It would be easier if he argued. The silence demanded she justify her claim.
“We have to end this experiment now, before we make it worse for them,” her partner said, softly now.
Kate wavered. Developing religion this early was indeed dangerous. It could be corrupted. Selfish members of the tribe could use it for their own benefit, manipulating the others. It could be used as a justification, a basis for all sorts of evil. But… used correctly, it could also be an incredibly civilizing force. A guide.
“We can help them,” Kate insisted. “We can fix this.”
“How?”
“We give them the human code. We’ll embed the lessons, the ethics, in their stories.”
“It cannot save them.”
“It has worked before.”
“It will only last so long. What happens when they stop believing? Stories won’t satisfy their minds forever.”
“We will address that problem when it arises,” Kate said.
“We can’t be here to hold their hand. We can’t solve all their problems.”
“Why can’t we? We made them. Some of us is in them now. It’s our responsibility. And it’s not like we can do anything else. We certainly can’t go home.”
Kate’s words brought only silence now. Her partner had relented. For now. She hated the disagreement, but she knew what she had to do.
She held her forearm out and tapped at the controls. The ship’s computer quickly analyzed the primitives’ symbolic language. It was crude, but the computer easily fashioned a dictionary. She held her palm out, and the light shone from it onto the stone wall. The symbols she projected lined up just below the lines the tribe had written.
The elderly alpha nodded. Two males rushed from the hovel and returned with two large green leaves filled with a thick burgundy liquid. Kate thought it was crushed berries at first, but then she realized what the leaves held: blood.
The males began painting the gray stone walls with it, copying the symbols she projected.
Kate opened her eyes. She was back in the helicopter with David. The door was open and the sea glistened below. The breeze filled her lungs and she realized how much they hurt. She wiped a sheet of sweat from her forehead. David’s eyes were on her.
He pointed to the headset hanging in the middle of the space. Kate lunged for it and pulled it over her ears. He leaned forward and clicked the dial.
“We’re on a private channel now,” he said.
She involuntarily glanced at Chang and Janus sitting across from them.
“What’s wrong?” David asked, focusing on her, ignoring the scientists who sat impassively.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know.” Kate wiped another layer of sweat off her face. “The memories are coming; I can’t stop them now. I’m reliving them… it’s like they’re… taking over… I think, I don’t know. I’m scared that I’m losing… some of myself.”