The Seymour Project

[Katzaniel]

OOC: At least one more post to follow. All I really know right now is that it's not done.

 

----

 

As every schoolchild knows, human progress was slow for many centuries up until the twenty-sixth. You see, up until that point, scientists had no real test subjects. They practised on mice and in some cases monkeys. Moral issues abounded whenever someone suggested human subjects and only black-market science was able to discover anything new. A few of the practitioners, suckers for progress, released the data found this way, and were jailed for the remainder of their lives. Finally, in 2548, due largely to a widespread war that had finally come to an end, a radical world government was elected. They put into play a system whereby prisoners slated for the death sentence - an extremely rare situation in those years - could be used for certain tests in the weeks before the eventual killing. Within twenty years all forms of cancer had a cure, and there was no going back. In 2572, it was made legal to sign up to be a test subject. This was guaranteed to be lethal within a year, the signs advertised, and no payment would be given for your services. It was a last resort for patients in pain, or suicidal adults, and though it was strictly implemented to avoid killing unready or unwilling humans, especially those too young to know their own minds, the number of subjects increased drastically and science took a large and irreversible step forward. Progress after that point was unstoppable. Diseases were diagnosed, cured, controlled in every way. The relationship between dreams and mental ability was discovered, clones became a popular solution to overwork, teleportation was perfected. And the Seymour Project came into being.

 

I was the perfect candidate for this project. I had no family, no friends. Suicidal after my wife left me, I signed up to be a test subject. At this point, there were multiple lengths, wherein you could volunteer for as little as an hour or as long as fifty years before, if you weren't already dead, they would kill you. Depressed and guilty, feeling worthless and undesirable, I allowed myself to be talked into the lifetime package. They would continue to do whatever tests they needed until such a time as I became unusable or died. An unimaginable contribution to the human race, they said. My name would be on a plaque of selfless beings, science would be undeniably furthered, all humanity would honour me. I didn't really believe most of what they said, but I felt that at least my life would be of some use to someone, and at that point I didn't know that there had only been eleven lifers before me.

 

As the fifth eligible participant in the Seymour Project, my training was slightly rushed. I was introduced to Delph, Victoria, Peter and Dmitri and shown the ins and outs of what, within science's predictive ability, might happen to me. The theory was a combination of teleportation theory, time methodology and the universe expansion school of thought. The head scientist was an unknown, hoping for her shot at greatness. The only person currently asking for a variable duration of participation, Dr. Seymour had had no competition for subjects, yet had waited almost ten years. As such I got only the trimmed down explanation, but basically her line of thought was this: What if the universe is expanding? Previous lifer contributions had proven that the universe had an edge. When you reached this edge, your line of travel began to curve, causing you to never travel beyond it. If the universe is expanding, then someone who was teleported beyond that edge might not die immediately as current theory claimed, but instead be in some sort of suspended animation until the universe grew to that point. In a properly equipped ship, the theory might be tested. It must be able to teleport of its own power and have directions that should enable it to find Earth from any location in the universe, via short hops that would locate an approximate distance from its target and then spiral ever closer until reached. It must have life support for its passengers, who would report everything to whoever or whatever they found on Earth if and when they arrived back. The ship was instructed that after its first teleportation outward, it would immediately begin the return trip. That meant that, whether the passengers remained alive and sapient or not, if the ship ever existed again after its initial excursion, it would return. Detailed documents on the ship explained to future races what must have happened if the ship was found, and asked that in the name of science any living passengers be treated respectfully. All of this scared me, but there was no turning back, no way out but actual suicide, and that seemed pointless. They didn't even give me time to read the documents on the ship; Dr. Seymour buckled me in herself, promising that all was being done to make us as comfortable as possible, and moments later the first flash of light indicated that the teleportation was about to occur.

 

The light flashed, and we braced ourselves. One second should pass from the flash to the teleportation, and we all looked at each other curiously when we noticed nothing but the light flashing again. We couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. The light kept flashing, twice, thrice, and we all cast around for an explanation. Peter, finally, pointed at the surveillance screen. Just before each flash, it changed. The stars around the ship were changing. We were moving. Thrill shot through me as I realized that it must have happened, we must have gone outside the universe and back again. Not only were we still alive, but it was as if nothing had changed. Less than a minute later we looked at the screen to see a shot of dirt.

[Katzaniel]

I hesitated, unsure what to expect. Delphe immediately opened the door, however, quickly enough that Dmitri's shout, "There might not be air!" came too late. Nothing strange happened, though, and the air seemed to be breathable. Delphe jumped out. I looked at Dmitri and he shrugged. I followed Delphe's example, and soon all five of us were breathing Earth's air again. We were relieved, but not pleased. We had hoped to find people immediately. The ship sat behind us, solid and metal and unique among the green and yellow plantlife surrounding us. We were in some type of dense forest. The ship had succeeded in finding a clearing, presumably with a technique perfected early on to prevent accidental death or merging of bodies, but immediately beyond the intial clearing was only thick vines of green and yellow and the occasional coloured flower. There was some discussion on the next course of action. Delphe wanted to leave the ship behind and roam, and though I admired her courage I had to side with Dmitri, who said that we should find a way to bring the ship with us. If there were no humans, or the humans were not friendly, or the humans were too far to reach easily, or any number of scenarios, we would regret not having the ship and its supplies. What if we lost it? What if we could not reach it again, or it was gone when we returned? The ship was too heavy to carry, and no one seemed ready to teleport again. Eventually we agreed to pack some supplies and scout the area, leaving one person behind with the ship. Victoria, shy and softspoken, offered to stay. So we grabbed what we could and set out. If we reached nothing in two days' journey we would return and teleport elsewhere on earth.

 

We soon discovered the efficient way of getting around the forest's growth, and travelled quickly and efficiently. We were disappointed when night fell the first time, and heavily disheartened when it fell again the second. We had not been moving for a full two days yet, but the perfect lack of change in scenery prompted us to turn around upon awakening and head back to Victoria and the ship. Following our own track back, but making less progress due to a general fall in movitation, we found her shortly before the fourth nightfall. Nothing but green and yellow vines, we reported to her upon return. That night was a silent and depressed vigil beside the gleaming metal anomoly that was our only known refuge.

 

In the morning, we set the ship to move to the first clearing beyond what we guessed was a three-day foot journey in our chosen direction. The light flashed, and we looked into the screen to see dirt again. Opening the door, we could not tell that we had moved, excepting that there were no scuffs in the dirt and no break in the vines. Victoria observed that the flowers were slighty more reddish here, but no one else could discern a difference. Strapping on our freshly-filled packs, we began the sad journey for a second time.

 

And to no more avail. Two days passed and the vines and flowers were the only sight we had seen. The four of us were sick of them. We headed back in the morning and repeated the excercise, exchanging glances with Victoria and clambering into the ship to sleep. When the sun rose we teleported again, this time about four days further. Dmitri stayed behind this time, and Peter the next. After that it was my turn to experience the four day excercise in lonliness. I agreed with Peter; it was much worse than endless trekking through unchanging scenery. We continued on like this for a long time. After ten times we began leaving people behind in groups of two. It did not drastically alter the chance of survival of the travelling company, but it drastically improved the days of those left behind. We switched on and off and I experienced long, soul-searching discussions with each member of group, several times over. We reached fifty separate trips, one hundred. Each was four days long and we looked desperately into our ship's cannisters, designed for only five years of survival. Peter said that if there was plant life, there must be animal life, or the air would be turned into carbon dioxide by the plants, and there would be nothing to make it into oxygen again. The plants would soon die, and they appeared extraordinarily healthy. But there appeared to be no end to this forest. We tracked what we could on the ship's computers and decided to go give up with the structured search. We teleported halfway across the world. There, hopes high for the first time in a year, we rushed out of the ship - to the same scene. This time we could all notice that the flowers were mostly a bluish tint. Delphe became agitated and grabbed one, trying to eat it. I hung onto her arm, protesting. She shouted at me, saying that if she died, we would all live a little longer from the remaining supplies. If she lived, we would know that the plants could be used as food. I wailed that I loved her, which by this time was true. Despite my history before the Seymour Project, despite all the torn feelings in my past, I had become, during long conversations alone with the woman, completely and irrevocably reliant on her company. She went limp, staring at me with frustration and pain and uncertainty. And beside us, Peter devoured a vine.

 

Delphe was angry with me for a week after that, as we all prayed that Peter would not show any bad effects. It tasted funny, he said, but he never got sick from it. Soon, the five of us were gorging ourselves on the flowers and both types of vines. We travelled every few hours, exitting the ship and beating around the nearby area shouting, then going back for another shot at it. We did discover a different picture at one point. If we travelled over an ocean or lake, we could see it from inside the ship as it floated on the water. We could get out and swim a bit, seeing blue vines growing in the shallow bodies of water, nothing at all in the deeper ones. Everywhere we went, either vines and flowers, abundant food, or water, occasionally drinkable. It was a heaven for human life, but there was absolutely no sign of it. No animal life at all. Through marking down the locations of lakes and oceans and rivers, the ship's computers were able to match with the onboard map of Earth and show us where we were and where we had already been. This might well have been the most depressing of those days, as we realized that we had already extensively searched the Americas, Asia, and Europe. We had been exactly inside of New York City, and there was nothing but vines. Vines and flowers. We went to many more ancient centres of civilization after that, and found the same.

 

One day Peter suggested that if humanity had managed to destroy everything else - if all animals had died and erosion had covered or destroyed the remains, if nothing had been left on earth but plants - then perhaps the plantlife had evolved a way to create carbon dioxide from oxygen by itself? That explained the yellow vines, we each thought silently, and no one mentioned the idea again. It became a permanent fixture in each of our minds, our hope dwindled to new depths, and we all consigned ourselves to a lonely existence, but we never mentioned it again.

[Katzaniel]

It was right around the second anniversary of our relanding on earth that we decided to settle. It was immediate and unanimous, and we picked New York City out of some strange idea of history or religion or perhaps simply irony. Victoria called it Dead York, and the name stuck. We fashioned a flag and stuck it among the vines in the dirt. "Dead York, founded 2 AR (After Relanding), population 5." We snickered at it, but felt somehow pround nonetheless. We began to move our things out of the ship and bit by bit we fashioned homes. We created a bit of a primitive society. With two women and three men, all of which knew each other incredibly well, traditionally contemptable behaviour became commonplace. It started out fine, with Delphe and I having a ceremony like marriage, but Peter and Dmitri, who respected each other immensely, did not want to fight over Victoria, and she did not want to decide between them either. Soon, the three of them were married and sleeping together, and it wasn't a large step before all five of us were living in the same expanding home and sharing a large bed. Both women became pregnant and all three of us men celebrated equally. This was a weird society to raise kids, but it couldn't work any other way, we thought. There were no predators, there was food everywhere, there was no danger anywhere nearby, so the two children, and the ones after them, were allowed to explore as far as they wanted. We created our own culture with its own taboos, and we lived happily for a while. It didn't take long before the many children were marrying and having their own, building vine houses and talking to each other for entertainment. It was a simplistic society with no dangers and no shortages. That meant that we were all free to work together, spend time to understand each other, and right any wrongs. Occasionally some of our children and grandchildren travelled away to populate new cities. "Dead England, founded 28 AR, population 16." "Dead Scotia, founded 33 AR, population 23." "Dead Japan, founded 37 AR, population 63." The names were a running joke for each new batch of settlers, reluctant to use the term "New" and finding the abundance of life a refreshing and humourous contrast to the names of the cities.

 

Us original five settlers became restless, though. We were nearing the end of our natural lifespans and we wished we could live forever, to see the continuance of what we had restarted. Delphe was the first to suggest it, but we all agreed immediately. Why not travel forward once more in time, leaving our legacy behind us to grow and become what it would? We climbed into the ship once more, made sure everything was set and that we had provisions if needed. We waved goodbye to our descendants and began the process. The light flashed. This time, we were unsuprised when it flashed again, and we watched with interest its progress toward Earth. We landed first on the water, and immediately redirected toward land. Dead York, to be specific, as we were most curious about that. When we landed for the second time, we saw dirt in the screen, wondering at the reddish tint. Still, we opened the door without hesitation.

 

We were quickly surrounded by people. It was apparent immediately that there had been huge advancements in our absence, and huge setbacks. The men and women who grabbed us were carrying weapons, primitive but dangerous. Their clothing was mostly made up the still abundant yellow and green vines, their squat houses from rock, and they led us to an area whose flooring was packed dirt. They handled us roughly and ignored our protests, pushing us to the centre of the dirt square. I noticed strange patterns of rock and vine set in each corner. "What are you doing?" demanded Dmitri, to no avail. The men ducked as the women twirled, and then the roles switched. No one spoke to us until their odd dance was finished, and finally a man stepped forward and spoke in a heavily accented version of our language. It took four tries before Peter finally understood and repeated the phrase for us.

 

"You come from the sky, like the Great Five that left us."

 

We glanced at each other, uncertain and scared. Delphe turned to the man and, trying vainly to replicate his accent, spoke. "When we left, you were a peaceful people. What has happened here?" She only had to say it twice before the man became agitated and repeated the comments to his comrades. They stepped closer, wielding their spearlike weapons. The leader spoke again, clapping his hands over his head at the finish. "When food began to run out, only a few cities were able to adjust," translated Peter, "Dead Spain tried to get ours but the All Powerful Ketker ran them out." The man squinted at us and twirled once before continuing. Again he clapped his hands over his head, but this time after only a handful of words. "Now we pray to no Tcheka-Tan but Ketker, and he demands your blood. He prophesied your coming, and he ordered your deaths. Kneel!" Peter looked at us, and surprisingly, Delphe was the first to get to her knees. I followed her at about the same time that Victoria did. Peter, desparate, spoke to the man. I thought I understood from his gutteral speech the words, "We have supplies, we have skills you could use. Surely Ketker," as Peter replicated the hand-clapping movement, "Might change his mind?" Only one harsh syllable was his answer, and Peter, too, kneeled. Seeing this, Dmitri copied the movement, a sad look upon his old face.

 

The ritual movements began again, the twirling and the ducking bringing them closer and closer to the five of us. At almost the same moment, Delphe and Dmitri dove for freedom. They went almost opposite directions but both were speared instantly. My heart snapped like a twig and I leapt after her. The only two thoughts in my head as I died were the destruction of a thing so utterly beautiful as Delphe, and an absolute despair for the chances that humanity ever had.

Edited August 20, 2004 by Katzaniel

[Katzaniel]

EDIT: This post and Gyrfalcon's might not make sense to you. That's because I switched around the original ending and put it in the post where I eventually found an ending that I liked. The "good ending" is now part of what you presumably just finished reading.

 

 

OOC: The end. There's an alternate ending in my head, where they basically just commit suicide instead. Do you think it's more real? More stomachable? Whatever? Comments on this aspect and others are welcome. May as well post 'em right in this thread. Thanks!

 

Please?

Edited August 20, 2004 by Katzaniel

[Gyrfalcon]

I do think that the sudden decision to revert to canabalism is a bit odd, as they had packed supplies before they toggled their spaceship/time capsule/thingy forward in time again.

 

Another note is that its unlikely any of the bodies would still be bleeding by the time the last survivor died of starvation - blood tends to dry up in a few hours, though its possible the last person refused to eat the others... *shrugs*

 

I think seeking painless ways out might be possible, or they could keep on hopping forward in time in hopes of finding earth regrown so they can live out their last years peacefully. Worst case, they hit the heat death of the universe and expire.

[Katzaniel]

Okay. That's sensible. I don't want to draw the ending out too much, like having them search the whole earth again and finding nobody, but I'll try to think up another way that doesn't seem so strange.

 

Come to think of it, there had been a third ending in my mind, but I was struggling over how to show what was going on. I will think on this and post something later. Thanks for the feedback!

[Katzaniel]

ORIGINAL ENDING (keeping it for the pure and simple fact that I hate throwing things away, especially when there's a perfectly good place to keep it)

 

... When we landed for the second time, we saw dirt in the screen, wondering at the reddish tint. Still, we opened the door without hesitation.

 

We gasped at the desolation around us. This time, there were no plants. Instead, bleeding human bodies lay in heaps around us, too thick to pass. We wondered aloud at what devastation had occurred. Wading through what we could, we hoped to find some still alive. We found only a torn flag. Crossed out at the top was the original inscription. Now it read, "Dead Earth, 2 NF (No Food), population 1." An emanciated corpse lay clutching the pole. No insects buzzed around him, no worms or bacteria had devoured his flesh, he had no wounds and no blood, but we knew immediately that he was dead. We looked around with a new sadness, realizing now that the bleeding bodies had been ripped apart and much of the meat eaten. At the last, the settled humans had run out of food, had had no ability or knowledge to grow more, had turned into carnivores. Now, not even the plant life remained. We stared for a moment into each other's old, sunken eyes, and then as one we kneeled at the foot of the flag. Then we dug into the last man's body. It might not last for long.

Edited August 20, 2004 by Katzaniel

[Valdar and Astralis]

Katz,

Very well written piece-Like Gyrfalcon, I was a bit suprised at the ending (either). One question though-if humanity at that time was sufficantly advanced to transverse the bounds of space and time, would it not be plausible that humanity had abandoned earth? Giving poor Gaea some time off for a few millenia, say. Level the cities and mountains, and cart everything off to the nearest habitable planet. After all, it was mentioned that their spaceship travelled to the edge of the universe, and teleported beyond. Technology would have progressed since then unless the Apocalypse occured right after they left. For all we know, the poor explorers missed the great return by mere years.

 

Just a thought