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Chapter 3 - Origin of the Species
The Midgetman leaned back on his chair, savoring his candy bar. Life had definitely improved. After they had gotten those gadgets from the alien people, the war’s tables had been spun a full 180 degrees. The crasher had brought down all the ships as predicted, and when the whatsits… the Reiak had come out on hovercrafts, the angered citizens had started on them with garden hoses and water pistols. It was too bad the Reiak had such different facial gestures – he would’ve loved to see their expressions. Still, maybe he shouldn’t have pledged the service of his people… What if the aliens ended up using the services of the Midgets for their own personal whims? They were only two people compared to the one billion he controlled, but they probably had some sort of creepy alien powers… But if he hadn’t agreed to the deal, the entire planet would be bacon. No one could get angry with him for saving all of their hides. Well, there would always be one crazy guy that could – it would be impossible for everyone to agree with a politician. That was as much a rule of nature as inertia. Speaking of bodies at rest, he didn’t really have anything to do that day. Maybe he should call the aliens again for more advice…
The Midgetman put the foil-wrapped bar down and pressed the button controlling the portal the aliens had left. “You guys there?”
“Yep,” said Konnie, sticking her head through the swirling colors. “Need us again? ‘Cause I’m really, really bored.”
“Well, get over here, then. Er… please.” The Midgetman wasn’t used to treating people as his equals. “I have some stuff I want to ask you.”
Konnie walked through, promptly followed by KJ. “Greetings from space!” said the Ailu in an imitation of a tour guide.
“Technically, everyone is from space,” commented KJ. “But technically, that’s just me being annoying. Is the war going well?”
“Oh yeah, it’s going great,” replied the dictator. “The Reiak had no idea what happened. I have to thank you again for the crashing thing.”
“It’s fine,” said KJ. “Really, you don’t need to thank us again. We know how grateful you are. Have the Reiak come after you in magnet-resistant ships yet?”
“They have those?” asked the Midgetman, worried.
“Yeah,” said KJ. “Don’t worry, though – they’re rare and expensive. Some of them might be used to get their stranded troops off the planet, but they’re usually not armed well. If they do attack you, though, our weapons should be able to bring them down.” KJ didn’t feel like mentioning that he, as an Elemental, was their only weapon.
“Getting their troops off the planet…” the Midgetman thought aloud. “I’m just wondering – could a Midget survive where the Reiak come from? I mean, it doesn’t rain sulphuric acid or have a hydrogen atmosphere or anything? “
“If he had food, then yes, probably,” replied KJ. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. Anyway, down to business. Obviously, my specialists aren’t really equipped for war, seeing as there wasn’t really anyone on the planet to wage war with. For the past century, the official warlords have been employed guarding the doors of the Imperial Place.”
“Place?” asked Konnie, raising an eyebrow.
“Hey, we’re not good at names. I mean, I got stuck with something as stupid as ‘The Almighty Midgetman’. Anyway, I’m not asking for a new warlord – after all, Guard – I guess I should be calling him Warlord now – is genetically the best man for the job. But since the computers are down, I can’t look for a guard in a job directory, and…”
“So you want us to get you another guard,” Konnie finished for him.
“Well, I was going to… actually, that’d be great.” The Midgetman hadn’t considered the possibility of an alien guard, but he supposed it would work.
“ Right. My PDA’s magnet-resistant – I should be able to find one in the listings. Lessee… ‘Professional guard for hire, specializes in political bodyguarding.” That sounds pretty good, no? His name’s Celan Parr. I’ll give him our coordinates and he should arrive sometime between now and –“
A portal opened directly next to Konnie. “Now,” said an Ailu, stepping through the wash of colors. The wiry guard cast a suspicious look throughout the room. “I’m here for the job interview for my position as guard,” he said. His voice would’ve been menacing if it didn’t have quite as much of a lisp.
“Okay, then. Um… hey, I’ve never held a job interview before,” The Midgetman had never really hired anyone, since all his staff was genetically predetermined. “What do I do now?”
“Um… I think you… um…” KJ wanted to offer some assistance, but he had no idea either. Konnie just shrugged.
“Wow, this is stupid,” snarled Parr, spitting out the last word.
“Yes,” agreed the Midgetman. “Yes it is. Um… forget about the interview. Take the job, if you want it.”
“So you’re the one requesting my services as bodyguard?” asked Parr disdainfully, looking down at the Midgetman. “You?”
“Hey, I run a planet, bub,” retorted the Midgetman.
“Who the hell gave you a planet?”
“Look, you can and will shut up, okay?” The Midgetman had gotten kind of tired of the snotty comments. “Do you take the job or not?”
“What’s the pay?”
“Eh… about 500 thousand giln a year,” estimated the Midgetman. It was a tad high, but he had a feeling this guard wasn’t going to accept much less.
“And what’ll a giln buy?” asked Parr. It sounded like a lot, but he wouldn’t get his hopes up.
“One giln? I dunno… like, maybe a jelly donut or something.”
Parr considered it. That was around a million fen – the currency on Idyll - a year. One mil just to protect an elfish twerp from other elfish twerps – sounded good. He grinned, showcasing a few large pointed incisors. “I’ll take it.”
“Right. Welcome to the job. Got that out of the way. Now, I need to receive a report from my chief scientist. Any of you want to watch him be humiliated?”
“Sure,” replied KJ.
“Yep,” responded Konnie.
“This sounds fun,” said Parr, grinning evilly.
“Right, then. Witness the inefficiency.” The Midgetman smiled like a crocodile with fresh prey, or like a CEO about to downsize an employee. “Oh, Scientist,” he called. “Would you please present the autopsy report for me?”
A trembly, computer-bleached Midget slunk in. He stared at the non-natives, shocked.
“I brought guests,” the Midgetman explained. “The report?”
“T-today?” Scientist trembled even more.
“That’s when I asked you to have it ready by.” The Midgetman was smiling, but his voice dripped with venom. “Do you have it, or were you working on something else?”
“I… it’s at my house,” stuttered the scientist. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead.
“Mmm. Really. And you weren’t using the lab equipment for any other purpose?”
“N…n-n…” The scientist couldn’t even get the words out.
The Midgetman dropped the smile. “What were you doing?”
“W-working on the space shuttle project.” The stuttering Midget shook like a six-inch-tall lap dog.
The Midgetman plunked his head down onto an upturned hand. “The space shuttle.” He lifted his head. “We do not need a space shuttle. People have known how to achieve space travel for tens of thousands of freaking years. There just hasn’t been enough fuel and money to actually build a working spaceship. And besides…” The Midgetman gestured toward the watching aliens. “Now that we’ve achieved contact, we could just ask them if we could hitch a ride on their ship. Have you even started the autopsy?”
“I… I thought about it…” The Midget’s trembling measured on the Richter scale.
“We are in the middle of a war, Scientist,” said the Midgetman icily. “Even if we’re winning, we need all the help we can get. I can’t afford you slacking around like this. You know what? You’re fired.”
Scientist’s trembling ears jerked upward in fury. “What!?” the researcher shrieked, his anxiety replaced by outrage. “You can’t do that!”
“I’m a supreme dictator,” said the Midgetman, lying back and smiling. “I can do anything I want. My word is law. And I say you’re fired.”
“I’m genetically predetermined! How would you replace me?”
“We’d use the backup scientist. Like so.” The dictator pressed yet another of the plethora of buttons on his intercom. “Educator, bring the backup Chief Scientist here.”
“What happened to the original?” asked a worried voice from the speaker.
“Nothing. I’ve just gotten tired of his constant idiocy. I’m replacing him.”
“I’ll get him right away, sir.” The intercom clicked off.
Moments later, two Midgets walked in. Although the first one looked no older than the Almighty Midgetman, there was something about the way he held himself that suggested he had seen many more years than the ruler had. The other looked less human than the rest – his limbs were too out of proportion, his eyes were too close-set and large. He was smaller than the others, and probably younger. The Midget also bore a strong resemblance to the Chief Scientist, with the same greasy metallic-gold hair and annoyingly blue eyes, although there were a few differences in build and attitude. Still, the two Midgets could easily be mistaken for the same person.
“This isn’t happening…” said the scientist, staring at the younger Midget. His smaller double glared back, arms crossed. “He’s too young. Only nine or ten. You can’t get rid of me yet.”
“I believe I stated earlier that I can do anything I want. And I, frankly, want to get rid of you.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked the first Midget that had walked in. Judging by his voice, he was Educator, the one the Midgetman had spoken to over the intercom. “Scientist – er, this little fella here – is a good worker, and he’s very intelligent, but he’s not the most agreeable person. Scientists are always hard to teach. I tried to teach this one with an alternative method, which was recommended by experts, but I think he may have been overwhelmed. He’s very angry at the world-“
“You can stop jabbering now, you know,” advised the young Midget.
“I don’t care about his personality, so long as he actually does something,” said the Midgetman. “Agreeability isn’t that useful in researching ways to bring about the downfall of our enemies.” He put a hand on the shoulder of the young scientist, who shifted uneasily. The little Midget knew that most people would be honored to meet the guy who ran the world, but he had always thought the majority of the population had been brainwashed by political propaganda. Anyway, there was no use acting honored every time the person who would soon be his boss walked by.
“Congratulations, you’re the new Chief Scientist,” said the dictator. “Good for you.” The Midgetman turned towards the original Scientist. “As for you, you can go off and lead some sort of pseudo-normal life. The door’s that big rectangular hole in the wall.” The former Chief Scientist stared at the dictator. The scientist looked like he was on the verge of going mele – his eyes were even more over-dilated than the average Midget's, and his hands seemed to be clenching and unclenching of their own free will. “Come on, you’re predisposed towards brainwork,” said the Midgetman, trying to calm the furious specialist. “You should be able to get a good job easily. Maybe even as the head of a corporation. That’s the good thing about the world outside the Imperial Place – there’s room to move up in the world.”
The former scientist took a deep breath and nodded, walking towards the aforementioned door. On an impulse, he whipped around and slapped his younger doppelganger in the face. The little Midget whimpered and staggered back, expression pitiful. The previous scientist took a step backward, then slunk out of the door, ashamed. As soon as his older double was out of sight, Scientist’s facial expression retuned to its usual sneering smile. “Works every time,” he explained. “Nobody likes hurting a kid with a little puppy dog face. I can’t believe that guy was me. Hope I don’t turn out like that. I get that dolt’s apartment, right?”
“Yep,” said the Midgetman. “Down the hall, last door on the left. It’s connected to the lab. No explosives allowed.”
After Scientist strode off to grab hiss stuff and move in, Konnie turned to face the Midgetman. “Aren’t you worried, having that lil’ guy in the building?” she asked. “He seems kind of… not… nice.”
“It’s fine,” the Midgetman assured her. “There are plenty of shadier characters in the tech department. I’m personally more worried about the old one. He’s probably out in the street right now, plotting revenge… Of course, to get past the Place’s defenses, you’d need a couple of tactical nukes, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Well, we just walked right in the first time we visited,” KJ pointed out.
“Oh… right…” The Midgetman slouched into his leather swivel chair. “Well, we all thought it was the end of the world, so we didn’t really care. And anyways, Parr should be able to take care of some of that, shouldn’t he?”
The Ailu guard shrugged and continued examining the fur on the back of his six-fingered hand. The Midgetman swiveled around a bit, chewing his lower lip. “Um… that was a yes,” decided the dictator. “I feel like some sort of evil CEO, firing Scientist like that. I mean, he was completely unprepared for it. Never saw it coming.”
“It’s okay,” said Konnie. “It had to be done. You really can’t have an important person slacking off like that in a time of crisis. Anyway, it’s good to let your workers know that there’s a consequence for bad work. Keeps ‘em vigilant.”
“Yeah, I guess.” The Midgetman still seemed somewhat upset.
“Say, do you have an encyclopedia and a portable computer we could borrow?” asked KJ. “Just to get information about your race.”
“Sure,” said the dictator, yet again pressing a button on his almighty intercom. “Can someone get me a copy of Jannev’s Encyclopedia and that old Chromtron 240 that’s been sitting in the corner of the lab for months? Thanks.” An office boy arrived shortly with a metal disk and a collapsible computer, raising an eyebrow at the aliens before leaving. The Midgetman took his glasses off and fiddled with them. “Well, I don’t have anything to-”
The imperial intercom crackled to life. “Mr. Midgetman, sir?” asked a static-coated voice. “The stock market kinda just crashed.”
The Midgetman cursed. “Okay, now I have something to do.”
“Should we leave now?” asked KJ.
“That’d be good,” replied the dictator. “I really need to call my broker.”
“That was interesting,” said Konnie as KJ stepped into the lab and closed the portal. “Not sure the Midgets are gonna make it in the war. The Midgetman’s nice and all, but he seems kind of… inept.”
“If it gets too bad, we’ll try and help,” said KJ. He examined his hand, thinking.
“Something troubling you?” asked Konnie, leaning on one of the shelves that often lined Idyllic buildings.
“The Midgets just seem too… human,” explained the boy.
“So you’re too worried about the safety of their race? I am, too. They’re cute little critters. It’s kinda painful to imagine them getting hurt. They’re just too big-eyed and cute.”
“That’s not what I meant. Midgetan is nothing like Earth, right? Wouldn’t you expect the beings there to be adapted more for the sand and surf of their planet? But the Midgets look more like they evolved for forest and savanna. Like humans. I xstored a DNA sample from the Midgetman – I’ll enter it into the computer and see how much DNA Midgets share with humans.”
KJ put a hand on a LCD-looking panel on the counter. The panel glowed blue at his touch and an oversized computer monitor unfolded from the wall. Through a power extension, the Elemental transferred the DNA molecule to the computer, which processed its molecular structure and displayed the genetic data in the form of millions of tiny colored bars. KJ studied it for a moment before typing Homo sapiens into a text box at the side of the screen. From a drop-down menu, he chose the option Compare. The DNA on the screen shifted to make room for another set of genes, which filled the bottom half of the screen. The matching genes grew brighter as a percentage was calculated at the upper right corner of the screen.
“Look,” said KJ, gesturing to the screen. “More than 99.9 percent of their DNA is shared with humans. They could be in the same genus. And if my hypothesis is correct…” KJ typed Vulpes zerda into the text box and hit Compare. The human DNA was replaced by fennec DNA, which lit up as the human DNA had. “Yep. Almost all of the non-human DNA is from an animal called the fennec fox. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Midgets are basically a splice of two Earth creatures.”
“So… what the hell are they doing on a planet fifty light-years away from Earth?” asked Konnie.
“Not sure,” admitted KJ. “My guess is that some scientists did a gene-splicing project and, not wanting to leave any evidence for animal and human rights activists to shriek about, sent the results into space. But the Midgets have their own highly developed culture, language, and technology, which would take at least several thousand years to develop. I doubt that the ancient Romans did genetics experiments. So it’s a mystery.”
“Well, let’s find out how the Midgets think they got there,” suggested Konnie.
“Should we go back and ask them?” asked KJ.
“No need.” Konnie turned on the computer the Midgetman had given them, which unfolded into a laptop-ish thing, and put the disc into a compartment which had opened up on the computer’s cover. “Everybody’s got to have a creation theory. This lil’ encyclopedia of theirs – Jangle’s or whatever – should give us plenty of information on how the Midgets explain their existence.” After waiting for the annoying opening song to die down, the Ailu studied the screen. The cryptological sensor in her translator made sense of the runic-looking Midge characters. “Let’s plug in ‘creation’ and see what happens,” said Konnie, typing the word into the search box. The old computer processed the input before directing her to the entry for the Midget Bible.
“Okay, so they’re still using the biblical creation theory,” observed KJ. “It makes sense – evolution would be completely meaningless on Midgetan.”
“Let’s see if they have any biblical excerpts…” Konnie scrolled around the encyclopedia “page”. “Hey, the entire Bible is on here!” she exclaimed. “It’s not really a Holy Book. More like a Holy Pamphlet. Figures that the length of the book matches their attention span. So it begins with God creating Eden. It points out all these bad things about the creatures God created. That’s odd. Not a lot of races diss their Creator. And then… Wow. This is one weird Pamphlet. It says that Eden was conquered by beings from another world. Haven’t heard that one before.”
“Well, with a race like the Midgets, you’d expect a more action-packed Bible than usual,” KJ pointed out.
“True,” said Konnie. “But it gets weirder. Says that after many years of slavery, there was an Exodus from Eden. On what it calls ‘a vehicle that could go between worlds’. Either that’s some sort of trans-dimensional wagon thing or a spaceship. Then it says the… um… people that were exodused… created Midgets from pieces of other animals and people from Eden. You know, I think whoever wrote this thing was seriously high on something. It goes on to say the Midgets were created to go back to Eden and banish the otherworlders, but when they went back, it was before the invaders arrived. Mr. Doped-Up Bible Writer’s starting in the middle and plunging straight into the beginning. So now the Midgets have to wait until a sign from Eden arrives that the Edenites need help again and their order is up, yadda yadda yadda, religious propaganda, the end.”
“Okay…” said KJ, raising an eyebrow. “Two ideas now. One is that this is a really screwed-up ancient Midget adventure story. The second is that, unlike most Bibles, this story is not complete BS.”
“Fill me in on the second idea,” said Konnie.
“My idea is that Eden is Earth, which was conquered by aliens. Some people escaped on a spaceship with an exotic matter drive, which overloaded and created a temporal rift, which engulfed the ship and sent it to a random point in spacetime. They ended up on Midgetan, and for some reason spliced DNA to create a new race – possibly to fight off the invaders. The race – the Midgets – populated the planet and eventually forgot most of their mission. Of course, my theory might be BS too, but it could happen.”
“Should we run the theory by the Midgets and see if they agree?”
“No. At least, not know. Wait until it’s necessary.” KJ turned to stare at a wall, feeling apprehensive.
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