Alien Cradle, Jeff Inlo [graded readers .txt] 📗

which act like a large sponge."

Sinclair considered the theory, but only for a moment. Indeed, it answered many of her own questions about the Fenrites ability to build advanced technology, but in truth, it didn't matter any more. The Fenrites were about to become extinct, and she was going to give the order.

"It's time for this experiment to come to an end," she huffed, "both here and on Fenrir. The Fenrites are now too dangerous to be left to their own devices. This time, however, we can't afford to have any mistakes, so I'm ordering a test with the moon-based Fenrites. Biologists have created a toxic mist which can be injected into an atmosphere. It contains an organism that will attach itself to the reptilian portion of their genetic makeup. It is a virus, completely communicable, that will attack the ectothermic response, basically inhibit the Fenrites ability to absorb heat from external sources. They will all freeze to death despite the true temperature within the sphere. We have to be completely sure of the effectiveness before I order the use on Fenrir, so the mist will be injected into the moon sphere in one hour standard."

Farmer began to tremble with anger, shook his head in direct disagreement. "You can't do this."

Sinclair responded with a low-toned voice, slow and forceful. "I asked you if you saw what happened to the Planning Station. This thing ends now. We do it this way, or the Authority goes in and blows everything to hell. That means nothing left to study, nothing left at all. Just ashes."

Farmer's voice flared, his face red. "Well, why here? The moon-based Fenrites haven't attacked anyone. We can continue the study here."

"And let them develop this close to earth? I don't think so."

"But this colony hasn't seen space craft and nuclear missiles. They won't know how if we don't give them anything to copy."

Sinclair shook her head, slowly enough so the rolls of flesh around her neck actually stayed in place. "I can't take the risk. They discovered too many things that were simply off shoots of cloning technology. They might have developed ships and missiles even if we didn't give them models to work from. One hour."

There wasn't much to look at. The trading post had just three freight terminals on the entire planet. Out in space, it wasn't much better. A few orbital control monitors scanned incoming and outgoing ships, but traffic was so sparse it could have all been handled by just one.

When the scout touched down, Rath inspected the meager facilities with poor expectations.

"They're going to charge me a bundle for this," he mumbled to himself. "But it's not like I've got a choice."

He followed the passages to a small office which barely ventilated the smell of prop fuel from the enclosed area. A clean-cut, muscular and tan woman raised an eyebrow.

"Droppin' off or pickin' up." Her tone revealed she wanted to get back to the fitness center where she worked on her muscles, her tan, or both.

"I need maintenance," Rath mouthed, none to happily.

"Here?" the woman scoffed. "Why don't you just go into Boscon and head over to the Valky system or even Spinster? They have better facilities."

"I don't want to press the engines and take the chance," Rath revealed. "I'm not going to have you do a lot. I just want to make sure the props are in order and have a sweep done for any beacons."

"Beacons?"

Rath exhaled heavily, but came up with a lie that was actually a half-truth. "Yeah, beacons. I got boarded by marauders. I've got no idea what they might have done. I've heard stories of them attaching beacons so they can keep hitting the same ships that they know are easy targets." He said nothing about his concern for other beacons placed by the Authority. Nothing to gain by admitting he was in trouble with everybody.

"That's news to me, but if you want a beacon scan, will give you a beacon scan."

"And check the props. I went into push once without checking to get here; I don't want to risk it again."

"And we'll check the props." The woman whistled happily as she entered the orders into her terminal. She flipped it about for Rath to see. "That'll be the final cost."

Rath swallowed a cough. "Can I use your link to check my account?"

"Sure."

"When were you last updated?"

"A courier dropped off an updated galactic fund feed less than an hour ago. We like to keep that info fresh."

"I'm sure you do."

Rath lasercabled his portable to the terminal and swiped his wristband passed the reader. He nodded happily once he realized his funds were intact. Before breaking the link, he transferred the requested amount to the trading post general fund. It was more than he wanted to pay, more than he should have had to pay, but at least he was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Researchers at EMOF watched the end with detachment. Those that couldn't left the observation post on strict orders from Sinclair's council.

The misting occurred through vacuum sealed hatchways across several points of the biosphere, discreet enough so that the Fenrites would not notice the increase in moisture. The virus spread with the utmost efficiency as the Fenrites demonstrated immediate reactions. Agitation appeared almost at the outset, a genuine concern, as if they were aware of the presence of a predator. Most collapsed quickly, their bodies shutting down from the inability to capture external heat. Death was relatively quick and painless.

After monitors and mirror imaging devices surveyed all habitable space and no living Fenrites were found, rats were sent in the sphere to determine if the virus would affect warm-blooded organisms. Tests were already completed in laboratories, but the additional caution seemed appropriate when glancing at the legion of dead Fenrites.

As the rodents displayed no sign of distress, human researchers, although still garbed in bio-protective gear, hunted through the Fenrite corpses for stray survivors. Only one Fenrite demonstrated immunity to the virus. It was summarily executed when it attempted escape. Its body was quickly removed from the sphere, dissected and analyzed for immunity strains.

Several thousand Fenrites died, but the physical proof of their existence - their labs, homes, inventions - remained completely intact for further study. Sinclair marked the test as a complete success.

Farmer had remained to witness the end, only after assuring Sinclair he would not interfere in any way. As the researchers and techs strode about the dead Fenrite bodies, Farmer stepped up to the head council member and placed a sugar-cube sized metallic block on the table next to her.

"That's everything. All my personal files, diaries, and all the records of every EMOF report I kept. That's every bit of notation I have on the Fenrites. I've made no copies. You have it, along with my resignation."

Fenrir's End

"It's a shame," Sinclair stated to the emptiness of her office. "Farmer was right about almost everything. He just couldn't see the end when it was right in his face."

Her portable shimmered like a blinking Christmas tree as she scanned through several reports from the Espial agents, delivered as a courtesy from the Authority. The Fenrite advance was indeed leveling off, the Fenrites themselves turning their attention to their fields and crops. The amount of mining and manufacturing dropped off to near inconsequential levels. Space launches dwindled to a few weather satellites, nothing that could be considered a threat. They made no attempt to strengthen their own defenses as they displayed a complete lack of regard for potential retribution from their attack on the Planning Station.

"I wonder if they actually think they defeated us," she mused. "I doubt it. They must know the fleet is in orbit around their moon. But they seem to act as if the entire incident is finished. Maybe they just can't make the connection between their attack and the arrival of our fleet."

She shook her head and laughed at the irony. It was not a bad assumption, to consider the Fenrites rather dimwitted in certain aspects of intelligence. Creativity and even to a degree inspiration; here the Fenrites demonstrated limitations. They were obsessive in their goal-oriented behavior, but those goals had been given to them by external forces. Their strength resided in what they could copy, and in that, they proved to be the most dangerous foe the Authority ever faced.

That threat, however, was now quickly evaporating. One report after another illuminated her terminal with much less the same status. The Fenrites had reached the end of their accelerated progression, the limit of what they learned from knowledge transplants and observations of Authority weaponry. They were more or less on their own now. They could not depend on a memory implants or a scan of human technology. Invention must now come from within, and the true constraints of their intelligence crippled further advancement.

"Farmer hit that one right on the head," she murmured to herself. "Everything they developed, every technological breakthrough, came about because they drew upon the images we allowed them to retain. They did very little on their own. We gave them the map and they just followed the directions.

"It's a shame we can't let them exist for a while longer. It might be interesting to see how they adapt to a period of stagnation. I wonder if they retain the same global sense of belonging now that they've lost their common objective. Perhaps they might even fight against each other. Even if they didn't, there is still so much to consider. I wonder what would happen if we dropped some ill-conceived contraptions for them to study. Would they duplicate our mistakes as well as our successes?"

Many other questions stirred in the doctor's brain, but an absolute truth put an end to them all. The Authority wanted retribution, to remove the threat that, in all probability, no longer existed. All the politicking in the galaxy wasn't going to change that. It was over for the Fenrites, and if wasn't on her terms, it would be on the Authority's. The latter would leave little for the researchers to study, so it would be her order, her design.

She considered the existence of her own council. That, too, was probably reaching an end. Once the Fenrites were destroyed, there'd be little use for a council to investigate them. A few minor tasks and responsibilities would certainly be placed in their charge, but it was clean up work and nothing more, better suited for a security council. The important information that could be collected from the Fenrites had already been gathered.

It meant an end to many advantages. The endless resources, the complete power, the security of anonymity; the coming conclusion to this experiment signified a reduction of all these privileges.

But it wasn't the end for her, not anymore. Her council had completed the most important assignments. She had solved the true mystery of the Fenrites, determined how to deal with them, how to prevent future embarrassment. And soon, the Fenrites would be extinct. The end of a chapter, yes, but not to her career. That would continue to prosper.

"Perhaps it is best we end this experiment right here."

It actually felt quite refreshing to be back on Janus, almost like returning home. Familiar loading belts and docking rigs welcomed Rath without prejudice, but the scout wondered if some of the people would be as accommodating.

He immediately thought of Lar, about the