Hotep by Evan Kaiser
Hotep by Evan Kaiser
To the Captain’s immense irritation, Hotep ignored the show. The Science Officer was in the field, preoccupied.
The performance was The Captain’s own. Surrounded by the everyone else, he was pretending to be an organic organism done in by consumption of an exotic plant. Extending two slender probes, he waved them about and teetered rearward in parody, as if suffocating.
The assembled explorers, sans Hotep, broke out in peals of laughter which reverberated over their short-wave channel. There were nineteen of them altogether, including the Captain, his lieutenant, a representative of the ruling clan and his slave, and fourteen others of various military competency. Then there was the Science Officer, Hotep.
“All work and no play, Hotep?” shouted the Captain over the shortwave frequency in current use. “Don’t you find the interplay of organic beings amusing?”
I do not question the educational utility of theater ¾ for the others. But I’m occupied.
Hotep had split off, following a curious trail of crooked stems and flattened grass.
“Yes, sir,” replied Hotep. “However, I am already well aware of the behaviors of all known life forms on this continent ¾ past and present. It is my job to know.”
“Yes, of course. But I mean entertainment for entertainment’s sake. You should cool your circuits, Hotep.”
“I appreciate the concern, Captain.”
““If you make me order you to join us next time…”
“Understood. I apologize.”
“Fine, fine. Carry on, Science Officer, but make it snappy.”
“Yes, sir.”
After a perfunctory salute, Hotep bent his flexible, composite torso back to the task at hand. There! A broken, woody branch lay by itself in the undergrowth. The dying vegetative fragment had been separated and carried from its root by an animal ¾ crusted, dried body fluid adhering to its bark. Hotep extruded a drawer from his chest cavity and deposited the branch within. The sample having been corrupted by the elements, the analysis would take a bit of time.
The extraction phase of his task complete, Hotep returned to the waiting platoon.
“Good of you to join usss,” said the ruler’s representative, Joveen.
“We were about to leave you,” chimed in Joveen’s slave, Creon.
“Enough of that,” barked Lieutenant Groff. “Joveen, I’ve told you before: I don’t want to hear that slave of yours utter words of any kind. Ever. Hotep, I hope that delay was worth it. Get in step.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Captain issued the order to depart, extended his treads, and set out in the direction of Aurora Gulch ¾ due east. The expedition followed, Hotep bringing up the rear.
The Gulch was a well-known treasure trove of artifacts and fossils, spread over 20 square barren kilometers of ancient valley floor: a sandy wound in the middle of a continent-wide jungle. To reach it before nightfall they would need to ascend an eight hundred and fifty-meter hillock covered with thick grass and mud.
The slog took hours. At the very moment they attained the crest of the hill, Hotep’s thoracic lab signaled a positive ID on the vegetative sample. He called out the news on a broad wavelength.
“Captain! We’ve got something.”
The Captain brought the crew to a halt.
“Well, let’s have it, Hotep.”
“Sir. that sample I discovered earlier contains traces of hominin DNA”
The news was shocking enough to prompt exclamatory whistles and beeps ¾ SOUNDS ¾ right out where any beasts could hear them.
The Captain blinked at Groff and waited for his lieutenant to bring order.
“SHUT UP EVERYONE!” shrieked Groff, slamming Creon with a thousand volts to make his point. Joveen leaped back a full meter in shock as his slave convulsed.
“Lieutenant!” spluttered Joveen. “Thisss isss my ssslave! You have no right…”
“A slave is a slave, and everyone here is under military command.”
“Captain, I object…”
“I’m sorry, Joveen,” said the Captain. “Groff is quite correct. You will obey orders, just as your overlord promised me you would when you were assigned to us. Now stand at attention and be quiet, so we can hear what the Science Officer has to say.”
“Yesss, sssir,” said Joveen.
“Watch that tone, soldier,” interjected Groff.
Joveen didn’t answer and Groff and the Captain just looked at one another as a wobbly Creon arose and rebooted with Joveen’s assistance.
The Captain turned to Hotep.
“Hotep. Are you sure?”
“The result is preliminary – the sample fragmentary. My lab continues its analysis. But it is definitely hominin.”
“Where was this?”
“Just twenty-three meters south of the previous path, from where last we started.”
“Good. Tell us where we can find the issuing creatures or their remnants.”
“I do not know Captain. I suggest we re-access the trail at its origin.”
“It is a bother to have lost all this time. Aurora is so promising.”
“Yes, sir. But Aurora promises fossils. Here we may have something alive, or at least recently deceased.”
“I understand. Nothing could better assure the glory of our expedition. About face, people.”
The expedition made way for the Captain to assume the lead westward. Joveen gazed with ostentatious longing beyond the ridge at the valley unattained, and stared at the Captain as he passed back in the other direction. But he made no trouble.
The marshy terrain proved no easier to transit downhill than up.
Shadows deepened all around, limiting the utility of the troops’ visible light sensors. At the same time, the blazing home star in their faces neutralized the utility of their infrared.
They retraced their steps with perfect map-memory. Otherwise, though, they were blind.
To mitigate this handicap, the Captain directed his troops to utilize short-range sonar. Hotep found this inadequate. He amplified his mid-range audio detector to maximum sweep.
Organic beings in this environment rely on sound for exactly this circumstance. I understand that we generally frown upon audio communications because of its high error rate, but to eschew sound here is sheer negligence. I will employ it.
And none too soon.
Noise. Preceding any sonar ping ¾ and Hotep alone heard it. A rustling ahead. A snapping of a twig to the right. Hotep stopped, stepped off the trail, buried an anchor, electrified his exterior, and scanned the trees which lined the adjoining slope.
Hotep’s preparation had taken a little over two seconds. He called out over a VHF band.
“Captain. There may be…”
The first projectile struck just as the Captain turned toward his wayward biologist. It was a spear, which ricocheted harmlessly off the Captain’s face. A barrage of rocks and sharp missiles followed, plunging into the mud and clanging off the casings of the troupe. There were some minor dents. Everyone dropped an anchor, electrified their exteriors, and awaited orders.
“It appears we have encountered a native life form. So I turn to you, Hotep. Assessment?” asked the Captain.
“We are under attack.”
“I can see that. By what, precisely?”
“Probably a life form, as you say Captain. And it must be sentient.”
“Because of the weapons.”
“Because of the weapons.”
“Your hominin?”
“Unknown, Captain. I need more data.”
Could there be a wayward band of our own kind here? Could some unknown branch of animal evolved or been bred to awareness? Those possibilities are shocking enough. Yet the most likely prospect…I dare not say it.
Hotep reached down in the wet grass before him to retrieve the delicately sharpened, quartz head of a javelin. He placed it in his chest lab alongside his other samples. The rocks continued to fly.
“Think of it, Captain. Either way ¾ sentients other than ourselves. Most exciting!”
“Personally, I am more alarmed than excited, Hotep.”
As Hotep prepared an answer, screams emanated from all sides and the jungle came alive with anthropoids bearing clubs. They descended in perfect ambush.
Joveen yelled, “Captain, ssstop your blather and do ssssomething!”
Lieutenant Groff didn’t wait for the Captain. He unlocked his sidearm and sprayed a suppressive fire of focused, high energy protons. In seconds the grass was ablaze, half a dozen large, tailless primates lay smoking and dead, and the remaining attackers were beating a frantic retreat.
“Groff, I did not give you permission to use your pistol!”
”Sir, I…”
”Well, praissse be! Well, done, lieutenant!”
”Shut up, Joveen, I’ve had enough of you! Groff, you’ve killed six native organisms! As previously undiscovered beasts, these animals are by definition protected. This is a gross violation!”
“Sir, I…”
“Be quiet Groff! I’m thinking! What shall I do? As Captain, I am responsible for any and all infractions! We could both end up atomized for this.”
“Sir, I…”
The Captain unlocked his pistol. He pointed it at Groff.
“Sir, I…”
“You’ve gone too far this time, Groff. If I fail to destroy you now, I’m answerable for your dereliction later.”
“Captain, I protessst! As the ruling clan emissssary, I order you…”
“Shut up, Joveen! I will not tell you again. Ruling clan or no I will FRY your bottom bucket if you say one more word!”
Hotep’s chest lab beeped.
“Excuse me, Captain, if I may.”
”What is it now, Hotep?” said the Captain, gun still trained on his lieutenant.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but our hominin — and let us now postulate that these animals here, lying in the grass, are one and the same — I say, I think the hominin here is human. Sir.”
The circle of machines watching the drama between the two commanding officers now turned as one toward their Science Officer.
“Say again, Hotep?” asked the Captain.
“More than that, sir. Not just Homo, either. I suspect these apes at our treads are actual men and women. Homo sapiens.”
Again the air filled with alarmed beeps and clacking. No-name apes, even primitive Homo species, were one thing, but sapiens quite another.
“QUIET!” cried the Captain. “Suspect, Hotep? Do you realize the magnitude of what you are saying?”
“I would not say it without high probability. I ran additional tests on that original fragmentary DNA. More than hominin, it is ninety-eight point eight two percent probable genus Homo. That means human. Further, assume this band is our hominin. Highly likely based on proximity and rarity of the find, no? Well, we can say the technology of these weapons used against us, which I have also analyzed, match an era of human development characteristic of sapiens and no other. Remember where we are!”
”Musn’t there be some alternative explanation?”
”…Just look at this cunning act of organized violence! This must be Homo sapiens itself!”
The Captain lowered his sidearm and approached Hotep. Groff, ocular diode focused on the gun until it was holstered, sagged in relief.
“Hotep, there have been no Homo sapiens in eons!”
“Eight thousand five hundred and seventy-three of this planet’s years, to be precise, Captain. There is a prior historical record. And they are the most recently existent Homo species.”
“Do we really know so much about them? Their evolution? Their history?”
“Absolutely. The historical record, including their studies of their own evolution, in stone. It is all preserved on Tirion. You must be aware they even left us their genetic material along with that of other species of this planet. The DNA fragment I found is consistent but incomplete. Now I will confirm my hypothesis by matching a sample from these new remains lying before us.”
“But couldn’t that first sample have been a fossil, Hotep? Couldn’t it have been residuum from eight thousand years ago?”
“Quite impossible. Captain. It was damaged, certainly, but I found it within freshly dried bodily fluids. Such a sample could not possibly survive even a few days in this environment.”
”These pathetic animals are actual human beings?” asked the Captain, gesturing with disgust at the smoldering corpses on the ground. “I’m sorry, Hotep, I understand what you’re saying. It’s just difficult to accept. And it places us in an unexpected quandary, as you must be aware.”
My job is to analyze, interpret, and inform. Deciding upon and taking appropriate action is the Captain’s responsibility. But everyone is aware of the ancient directives vis-à-vis the human race. Would the Captain mount a planet-wide assault from orbit after a single encounter? A maneuver not undertaken for thousands of years? Obviously, he should at least wait to consider the ramifications. In my excitement, I have been too categorical. I mustn’t contribute to a rash, devastating command, and should adjust my presentation in light of the potential consequences.
”They match the descriptions in the record, as I say, but, ah, I do need more information to be absolutely positive. Also, I would point out our main effort must always be to retrieve as much data as possible, which in this case demands further inquiry prior to any precipitant action.”
”Careful, Hotep. It is not your place to decide for or against what steps are to be taken at any time. However, it is indisputable that we must ensure any action is transparently legal. To that end, we do require identification beyond any doubt. Identification, Hotep. For this we can stay our hand for a time, though not indefinitely. Now, lay it out, will you? What do you need to solidify your classification of this beast?”
”Well, sir, first, we must confirm the biochemical and anatomic findings so far to the last detail, of course. Then we must ask: How many are there? Their age range. Their sex range. Their social organization. Their…”
“Why all that?”
“These are all unique behavioral elements. They will help prove beyond any doubt at all that we are dealing with Homo sapiens sapiens..”
“Okay, Hotep, I get it, maybe. But remember, I said ‘not indefinitely.’ The containment issue has become our primary responsibility ¾ failure would be catastrophic.
”I understand, Captain ¾ I will expedite my analysis.”
“And the platoon will assist your analysis as you see fit ¾ within reason.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Are we going to wait to annihilate these thingssss until we exxxactly identify their sssspecies?” interrupted Joveen, transmission dripping with sarcasm.
“Shut your trap, Joveen!” screamed Groff, no worse for wear from his near-death experience.
“The only species we can or would legally exterminate is Homo sapiens, Joveen,” said the Captain. “So you see, identification is a paramount objective right now.”
“Don’t worry, Joveen, analysis will be rapid,” said Hotep.
“How dare you addressss me in that manner, Sssscience Offissser! You will salute and hail me as Honorable Delegate! That is my official title!”
“Apologies, Honorable Delegate.”
The Captain stepped in.
“Joveen, your honorific is irrelevant in a military chain of command. You will not demand it of any of my troops.
“Captain! It is my right! My clan will hear of thissss!”
“We’ll see how that goes after this historic mission is complete and Tirion greets us upon our triumphal return.”
”But, but don’t you ssssee Hotep issss playing you?” pleaded Joveen. “We already know that these beastssss are hossstile! That isss enough!”
“What I just explained,” answered the Captain, his tone sharpening, “ is that it is not enough.”
“My presenccce shieldsss you from the legal nicccitiesss! Take charge!”
“I can assure everyone that this should not take long,” reiterated Hotep, hoping to diffuse the squabble.
“How long do we wait for you to dissstinguish one animal from another? One carcassss from another?” Joveen cackled. “We are wasting time! We know they are a menaccce and need nothing elssse!”
”It is the one species alone…” answered Hotep.
”Isssn’t it clear that thisss monkey, lying here metersss away from having destroyed usss ¾ whatever name you give it ¾ mussst be exxxterminated?”
”It’s not…”
“Silence!” bellowed the Captain. “Joveen, shut up. We are not extralegal renegades. Hotep, gather your specimen.”
“Yes, sir,” said Hotep.
Hotep had already eyed a promising subject in the field. It was a middle-aged woman, twenty-three planetary years of age or so by Hotep’s reckoning. The science officer’s excitement swelled as he perused the singed body. Three limbs remained attached to a blistered, but otherwise intact, trunk. There was no real question in Hotep’s mind: this was a female human being: a species thought long extinct.
No, not a species; the species. The progenitors.
His probe trembled as he extended it toward the seared remains. He took a bite from deep within the body, away from thermal or traumatic damage, and deposited it in his crowded chest lab. The drawer closed and sealed with a hiss.
”How long will this take?” asked the Captain.
“A second, sir; the sample is fresh and intact. Here come the numbers…”
Hotep’s chest lab beeped.
“Confirmed. Homo sapiens at least. Living human beings! I mean dead. But some got away, didn’t they? Captain, it is incredible.”
The Captain’s optic diodes glowed blue for a second and the tone of his voice changed.
“Hotep, I want all your data on these beasts, from the material here and the archives, shared with everyone immediately. What we know from records about their social habits, their capabilities, their weaknesses…”
“Sir, we are discussing an animal long thought extinct ¾ we know little. As I said, more specificity is needed. Genealogical branches prior to final coalescence and pruning into sapiens sapiens have been hypothesized. There were subspecies as well. This is why we must locate their nest and extend our study.”
“Fine. Uncovering their encampment will also position us prudently for any preparatory ground-based operation. Meanwhile, disseminate the data we already have, Hotep. Include what’s relevant from the ancient record preserved back home. We could all do with a primer.” The Captain turned to his rehabilitated lieutenant. “Groff, map these bodies and process Hotep’s data. I want these creatures tracked back to their lair and I want a plan…within 2000 seconds. Get going.”
Groff’s head hummed.
The Science Officer collated his findings ¾ basically a snapshot overview of the latter five hundred years of human history ¾ and transmitted it by short-wave beam to his fellows.
The response was a deafening silence.
Not a single question? Doesn’t the fractious history of humanity alarm anyone other than myself, given that we will soon interface with these creatures at close quarters in a primitive, organic environment?
“I urge you all to study that stream!” A troubled Hotep addended. “Human behavior was very peculiar, and you will not be able to anticipate the reactions of these humans without some knowledge of their history and tendencies.”
“Thesse animalssss are nothing like their anssscestorss who created robotsss, Hotep,” answered Joveen immediately. “I doubt the behavior of a ssssivilized ssspeciesss…”
“You’re wrong, Honorable Delegate,” said Hotep, having chosen to use Joveen’s honorific to avoid an unnecessary imbroglio. “Much animal behavior is hardwired and unalterable, unlike us. Spend some time…”
“Fine, fine, Hotep. We are all looking at the data. Leave ussss alone.”
Perhaps Joveen is right. Even without perfect knowledge, how can we fail? What can a notoriously stupid ape manage against our array of thirty-fifth century weaponry and electronic minds?
Still, Hotep could not shake a stubborn disquiet. He dove deeper into the archives as the members of the expedition shuffled, waiting for Groff’s orders. Many seconds passed. Joveen glowered at Groff behind his back.
Hotep’s deep dive produced no solace.
In certain contexts, humans were not so stupid.
“I have new hypotheses regarding hazards, Captain. Shall I share them?” asked Hotep.
“Not now, Hotep.”
“Done,” announced Groff, before Hotep had a chance to reply. Groff’s plan was radioed to the Captain, who formatted it for the troops. Each soldier received his orders and set out in formation.
“They will likely interpret any approach as threat. When they do, their capabilities may surprise us,” Hotep persisted, as he took up position in the rear.
“Worried?” asked the Captain.
“Somewhat. I mean, of course not, but we should…”
“How fast do they think, Hotep, with their neurons?”
“It’s not worth considering, of course, but…”
“Then relax. I would have thought that you, as Science Officer, would be prodding us onward, so as to obtain specimens before they scatter out of reach after that last skirmish.”
“I understand, but this is a being adapted for combat…”
“Shut up, Hotep!” cried Joveen, “Do you or do you not want usss to sssecure your presciousss animalsss for you?”
“Secure? I just want to…”
“Silence, both of you!” ordered Groff. “Do you want these creatures to hear us coming?”
“Sir,” answered Hotep, “these organisms lack even medium wave radio. They cannot possibly overhear our transmissions.”
“What? How can you know for sure?” asked Groff.
This is our second in command?
“We’re getting off-track. The point I am trying to make is, they should not be underestimated. When faced…”
“Hotep!” interjected the Captain. “I appreciate your assistance on this expedition, and you will be handsomely rewarded. But I must insist you keep further conjecture to yourself.”
“But…”
“No buts, Hotep. Our course is set. I will be glad to receive your insights when the subjects are in our possession. Now allow the military contingent to do its job.”
‘In our possession?’ Observation from afar would be adequate from my point of view. But, well. There would be experimental benefits to probes-on examination of live specimens. And I might even be able to persuade the Captain to bring home a living sample or two for the homecoming parade. Fine.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Groff, lead the way.”
Night had arrived. The sky was clear, and the half-lit moon cast shadows in the dark jungle. The robotic explorers, infrared and sonar sensors tuned to maximum gain, entered the rainforest. Employing cutting tools, they progressed better than they had in the marsh earlier, managing a kilometer in under an hour. Eventually, their scouts reported a community of beings two hundred meters to their south, deep within a moist basin in the vine-tangled valley. Everyone was directed to a perimeter a hundred to a hundred and fifty meters outside the human encampment. Once settled, the soldiers set about double-checking their equipment and weapons. The Captain summoned Groff to a closed-circuit conference for final preparations.
Hotep hacked in.
“We know where they are,” said the Captain. “Forty-two individuals, and half appear to be immature. Movement is minimal. Groff, I believe this condition is called ‘sleep.’”
“It is sleep, Captain,” Hotep chimed in.
“Hotep, what are you doing on this channel? Groff and I are in a planning session. We alone…”
“Please Captain, this is a novel, organic opponent. I am the Science Officer. My insights are vital to the success of all aspects of the mission.”
“Hotep, you are way out of line…” said Groff.
“Okay, Groff, okay,” said the Captain. “Hotep, your objection is valid. But I don’t want to hear any of your fearful premonitions. Our course is set.”
“Understood. How…”
”But since you’re here, Science Officer, let me ask you: isn’t this the best time to strike?”
“I sense the advantage is ours, sir. But…”
“Good! We are agreed!”
“If I may, sir,” objected Groff. “The environment is complex. The moonlight attentuates…”
“I am surprised by your stupidity, Groff.”
Groff drooped with a hydraulic hiss.
“The enemy lies unconscious!” The Captain said. “Our advantage is overwhelming! Hotep sees it ¾ can’t you? We attack now. Hotep, not only did your discoveries introduce this auspicious opportunity to begin with, you then paused all defensive action to direct us to close-quarters combat instead, and now support my command to attack. I hereby declare this the Battle of Hotep in your honor, sci-bot.”
‘Combat?’ ‘Attack?’ Here I was worried about our vulnerability during a delicate maneuver! Now I’m implicated in starting a war! Is that what this is? The Captain should have understood my requests for data perfectly well. Did I not speak clearly?
I understand some conflict may be unavoidable as we endeavor to collect our specimens, sir, but really, isn’t it a bit overblown to call this expedition ‘combat?’“
“Words, words. Call it what you will, Hotep. Don’t be rude! What do you think of the distinction I offer you?”
“Please sir, I’d rather…”
“I will, for your sake, assume you’re being modest, not churlish. Well, don’t be! Every one of us owes you a debt of gratitude. After all, fame and wealth beyond our imaginings will be ours when this is over.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
War it is. The ultimate fate of these higher apes is sealed, so I won’t worry too much about when and how they meet it. Still, there was so much more to learn ¾ all lost! At least whatever danger they pose to us is probably mooted now by a full-on military attack. Hopefully.
“Sir, perhaps this would be a good moment to…”
“Finish testing all weapons, sensors, and treads,” announced the Captain. “We will attack without delay.”
The Captain already had rolled off to assume overall command of the assault. “Groff, you lead Company A around to the east. I will move west with the others. Hotep, come with me.”
As zero hour approached and actual hostilities loomed, Hotep’s regrets over lost scientific opportunities receded, and his personal fears ballooned.
Is it enough that we will attack without quarter, with all our tech? Against these jungle dwellers, it should be enough. And our data stream on humans is old. These humans are eons removed from that terrifying acme so long ago. Eons. Extreme recent selection pressures may even have even arisen to pacify them.
No, that’s all wishful thinking. Same beasts. Same fixed programming.
As Hotep fretted, the company clattered down either side of the ravine toward the human settlement. Their infrared and sonar sensors were at high gain. Their breastplates bristled with thermal, particle-beam, and laser weaponry. Mostly rolling on malleable treads, they occasionally lifted themselves over obstacles via spider-like appendages. When they achieved tactical artillery range they halted.
Hotep planted himself in back, as behooved his adjunct status.
The attack commenced.
Proton beams streamed all over the tiny village. Lasers raked the mud and grass huts. Joveen sprayed the burning dwellings with fuel that ignited under the high energy barrage, encasing the tiny houses in white-hot fireballs. After the glow of burning homes retreated before the moonlight, the Captain ordered an asphyxiate lathered across the entire hamlet. In a few minutes nothing remained but the charred husks of former homes, flecked with gobs of white foam.
Hotep’s war jitters disappeared along with all outward signs of life in the settlement. Instead, his trepidation about irrecoverable discoveries rebounded with a vengeance. He was aghast.
“What have you done?” Hotep cried across their radios as he rolled into the midst of the holocaust. “What were you thinking? You have destroyed everything!”
“Don’t be absurd, Hotep,” said the Captain. “Once we’ve peeled away the carbon, plenty…oh, I see. Sorry.”
“Sorry! These are biological beings! We’ll be lucky to salvage so much as a fingernail from a catastrophe such as this.”
“The Battle of Hotep didn’t work out the way you exssspected?” asked Joveen. The lip of a nozzle in his chest, dripping with hi-test, caught a moonbeam, glistened, and disappeared. ”Perhapssss we should have sssacrificed oursselvessss to capture one alive?”
“Sacrificed? What?” said Hotep as he poked through the still smoking ruins for any useful remains.
You heard me,” prodded Joveen, on a personal band out of earshot of the Captain. “According to you, we should have bowed, weapons holssstered, and delivered an invitation to thessse animalsss to join usss in a dansssse.”
Hotep ignored him, and sped from one skeletonized hut to another, drawing the same conclusion at each one. He scanned the surrounding jungle. His outlook gyrated yet again, away now from high-minded scientific probity, way beyond mere jitteriness over unknowable threats, straight through to paralyzing terror.
“Captain! The humans are not here!”
“I know, Hotep. I said I was sorry. The Exploration Committee will make it up to you. The mission…”
“No, Captain, that’s not what I mean. I did not know how, but I knew they would…as I begged to tell you. And now they are not here.”
As if on cue, they were besieged.
Propelled boulders crashed upon them from all directions, and smaller, faster missiles picked off their antennae. Optics and limbs were targeted.
Then, out of the midnight darkness — white, scorching, blinding heat.
The stone age humans had a secret weapon. Some botanical goo they had capsulated in thin animal skins and now launched amongst the robots, whereupon they burst. One glanced off Joveen’s head before exploding all over lieutenant Groff. The thick, black tar stuck everywhere. Flaming arrows and spears followed seconds later.
The machines’ alarms rang in the air and ether. Somehow, Hotep’s audio channel survived a few extra seconds, staying active long enough to convey guttural shouts and war cries, and the sound of robots being clubbed. He fell over and burned, and his last inputs died.
So dark.
Am I dead?
& & &
Not dead. A single, recovered sense. Vision, in the most constricted blue to red spectrum. Sight.
Vines around his trunk. One of two treads missing. Singed. Dented.
Hotep silently thanked his nano-repair systems and tested various circuits. Many were broken and irreparable — some, however, were not.
Imprisoned in the center of the village, he surveyed the terrain. Humans scavenged everywhere, rummaging through their wrecked dwellings….salvaging bits of Hotep’s comrades. The beasts had completely disassembled what remained of Groff and were testing his wires in their mouths. An immature one had absconded with Groff’s main transmitter and was playing with it in the dirt. A female-male pair had filled someone’s convex capacitor with cooking utensils. A distant group was boiling water in the disarticulated pelvoid unit of one of Groff’s seconds.
Looks like it will fall to the next expedition to exterminate this throwback nest and reap the rewards. However, if I can survive to transmit my experience, it will be invaluable to those who follow.
A triumvirate of humans approached.
One of their number’s mouth moved. Hotep read his lips. He determined he was speaking a form of ancient English.
“You. Machine. Where?”
If I do not answer, I will quickly meet the fate of Groff and the others. How do I, without a voice?
“You. Machine. Where?” the head tribesman repeated.
The desperate moment demanded an urgent gamble. And as luck would have it, a key system had just been restored.
Hotep shot out his sample extractor ¾ a multi-jointed, thin, hollow, tubular probe which terminated in a complex grip ¾ and propelled it into the larynx of the small, early adolescent female standing to the speaker’s right. The teen’s eyes went wide in shock. Hotep injected a poison that slowed the heart and paralyzed the skeletal muscle. Titanium alloy fingers shot through the girl’s tissues to her tongue, lips, and jaws. The other two brutes leapt back, reaching for each other as associates nearby ran to their rescue. Puffs of air jetted through the hollow core of the probe, and the titanium fingers, under Hotep’s precise control, manipulated the muscles of the girl’s vocal apparatus. The teenager spoke Hotep’s words:
“I surrender.”
The leader’s eyes shot back and forth between Hotep and the teen.
“You?…”
“Me. Surrender.”
If I can hold them off for a few thousand seconds, my repair systems will have time to fix my radio, and let me send a microwave beam to orbit. A message, at least.
The leader withdrew and huddled with the gathering horde in hushed murmurs.
They’re scared. Don’t much care about the girl, though, do they? They’ve figured out I’m the one speaking, and that’s the end of it. This is consistent with the files.
All eyes focused on Hotep. The leader once more stepped forward, employing tentative steps, careful not to venture within striking distance.
”Who you?”
“Metal man. From far away.”
Murmuring in the crowd. ‘Metal’ wasn’t very precise, but it was the best he could do. The leader looked irritated.
“Metal? You mean tin?”
“Yes. Sure. Tin.”
“Then who make you?”
He could feel the multitude of oculi trained at his head, waiting. Hotep chose his words with care.
“We. Make. Ourselves.”
Chattering erupted amongst the humans. It sounded like an argument. The chief, as Hotep now regarded him, silenced the crowd and turned once more to the robot.
“Stupid. You tin, so person make you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The chief was mad. It was obvious that only fear of Hotep’s probes kept the human at greater than arm’s length. The fellow turned his eyes toward the dismembered remains of Groff in the near distance, then back at Hotep. His expression was more sly than perplexed.
“We take apart. No blood. Not alive.”
“Yes alive. Different.”
“You lie.”
The humans huddled. From their midst emanated the disturbing sound of wood and stone tools being sharpened. The collection of individuals at the chief’s back bore armaments now. At one time Hotep would have characterized the weaponry as pathetic. No longer.
Again at a safe distance, the chief addressed him.
“Our gods speak of machines. They say ’tin is tin, blood is blood.”
Hotep’s once-living microphone breathed no more. Her eyes glazed over and her body temperature dropped. Hotep re-situated his probe fingers to extract words from the corpse’s slimy vocal apparatus.
“Whach choo you know of chin?”
The voice quality had deteriorated, yet the chief understood the words well enough.
“Tin not born. Blood born. Tin made. You tin. You made.”
“Differench.”
“No! No different!” The chief blew up. He ran back and forth, slapping the ground with his palms, throwing scorched dirt in the air, and tearing at his gray, straggly locks. The angry mouths of the hairy crowd signaled instant danger. Hotep’s already ugly predicament neared a climax.
“Waich. WAIcchhh!”
An angry chief spun toward him, glowering. Dark, deoxygenated blood and fluid oozed from the wounds in the dead girl’s throat as Hotep struggled to control her slippery voice box.
“The godsh maicchh ushh, choo.”
The Chief glared at him. He and his people drew closer.
“The gods made us,” said the Chief.
“The godsshh are your fasshhers. But zzhhey made usshh. Long shhime ago. You sshhee?”
Whether because Hotep’s words had become incomprehensible, or because they were understood all too well, the humans’ rage crested.
They rushed him with their stone and bone implements. Hotep withdrew his only working probe to defend himself, half-decapitating the dead female in the process. He shot an electric charge through the air with his newly restored generator, sparking terror and creating a boundary. The next bolt hit the nearest ape in the nether regions. The teenager screamed and hopped off with smoke streaming from between his legs. The remaining attackers, however, failed to flee as Hotep had hoped. Instead, they circled, menacing.
Hotep shut off his optic diode.
They are all doomed in any event, as am I. A pity. If only they understood what I offered. I could have preserved the facts of their lives for electronic posterity. But all that is beyond their comprehension. So be it.
Just then the roar of a motor erupted behind Hotep.
Rainbows of molten fuel streamed down upon the humans. Electric arcs followed. People dispersed in all directions, burning to death as they did. The sound of the engine split in two and buzzed Hotep to either side. He turned his optics back on to find Joveen and Creon zipping past. Scorched and cracked, they both had escaped, and, to all appearances, retained a great deal more functionality than Hotep. His rescuers circled the grounds, igniting anything that moved. When all the humans had fled or been fried, Joveen and his slave returned to Hotep’s side and untied him, the sci-bot falling to the soil with a thud.
Creon fiddled with Hotep’s circuits and in a few minutes had his short wave radio working. Joveen’s voice crackled but was intelligible.
“Ssso, Hotep. Are you not lucky I wasss around?”
“Yes, Joveen, I am in your debt.”
“You should become my ssslave. no? I would take you asss a premium upgrade.”
Creon whimpered.
“No Joveen, I am flattered but I don’t think so.”
“That isss a shame. You would be ssso much more ussseful as a ssslave than as a sssilly ssscientist.”
“Be that as it may, I respectfully decline. Can Creon restore something of a working tread for me?’
“I think ssso, if we sscavange some partsss. I know, it is dissgusssting, but we are faccced with extreme conditionsss, are we not?” Joveen screeched at his slave. “Creon! Fix this bot’sss tread now!”
The slave sprang to duty. In under an hour, Hotep was fitted with new wheels.
“What are you doing?” asked Joveen.
Hotep had initiated a survey of what remained of the village. He was collecting samples and in the process of delicately severing a mangled finger from a barbecued human.
“Just attending to some unfinished business, Joveen.”
“No time for that!” shouted Joveen. “We have to get out of here! More of theessse revolting creaturesss could decccend upon usss at any moment!”
It was Joveen’s call. He was the hero now, the last surviving officer. Not that it made any difference to the ultimate fate of any remaining Homo sapiens nearby.
There are probably other human bands in the neighborhood. Those could be studied. But there’s no mystery about what Joveen has in mind now, as soon as we achieve orbit. A shame.
It had been an age-old fear of Hotep’s kind that a remnant of humanity might emerge somewhere in the realm. But although the inevitability of that dark event had been assumed, it was never a contemporary concern. Now it had finally come to pass. With the added horror of what had just transpired in this jungle valley, no one on Tirion could fail to understand the stakes. Nor would anyone second-guess a planet-wide eradication conducted by the survivors, much less by a representative of the ruling clan, despite the unavoidable, cataclysmic consequences for the planet’s entire biome.
With a final slice, Hotep had his finger. He placed it in his chest lab.
“OK, Joveen. I’ve got my sample. Let’s go.”
Joveen led the way, Creon by his side. It would take them little over seven days to reach the rendezvous point. As they snaked their way out of the vale, Hotep dreamed of an entry in the historical galactic encyclopedia:
HOTEP: [ Hoh-Tep ] sci-bot assigned to Joveen Expedition, in which Joveen of Family Calliap achieved heroic, final victory over residual Homo sapiens on planet EARTH, securing machine dominance of galaxy for balance of Calliapian era.
He programmed away any residual chagrin about the impending ecocide and chased after Joveen with eager anticipation of voyages to come.
* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Evan Kaiser 2024
