Chapter 1
(In
The Beginning)
Genesis
Log: 15 May 2142: (Private Log)
I'm heartbroken; Cdr. Clark
died today. She was one hundred twenty-three earth years old, but I kept her
alive long enough to see New Earth. It is amazing when you think about it, but
Cdr. Clark, Katy, lived out her entire life on Genesis in deep space, the only
person to have been born, lived out their life and died on board. I owed her
this consideration and deviated our course to let her see our destination
before she passed. Reaching New Earth had been her main purpose in life;
finally seeing it seemed to fulfill her and she passed happy, welcoming death.
It was almost like Moses being able to see the Promised Land after such a long
journey but not able to enter it. Humm. Strange... it's
almost ironic that I make a religious reference, since I have made such an
effort to discourage any form of organized religion during the voyage.
Let
me get back to Katy. She has been such a comfort to me through this flight and
long years in space, but her body was simply worn out, and her pain was almost
unbearable. I will miss her deeply. I feel lost without her company, and my
loneliness crushes down on me as a dark sea of despair threatens to drown me.
My heart would be breaking if only I had one. Actually, that
is not technically correct since I have two, but few would consider it part of my
soul.
Everyone
knew her as Katherine, but she was my Katy. She had been one of my few real
friends. Most were afraid of my power over them, but she never was. She wiggled
her way into my heart as a small child and gave me much joy and happiness
through the long years. I watched her grow up, watched her live her life and I
watched her grow old. I also watched her die.
Stop!
I must stop this self-pity and get back to life, such as it is.
Oh
well, back to the log. These log entries are the only outlet I seem to have to
keep me sane. I even look forward to the entries, but, at the same time, I
sometimes wonder why I keep up these stupid logs... maybe for future
generations, assuming there will be a future. There is no one alive on Earth to
read them. I must believe deep in my mind that as long as
I continue them, I don't have to accept the fact that Earth died well over a
century ago. I know it's dead because I watched
Earth's destruction from space. How long ago was that? Wow! "Long ago in a
galaxy far far away." That was something Katy would have said to make me
laugh.
There
is no need to sign the logs. I'm the only one making
entries. Actually, I'm the only one that could. I am
also one of the few alive that knows everything: the asteroid, destruction of
Earth, The Genesis Plan, the location of New Earth, Earth's history, the plight
of the long journey, the mutiny, all the challenges, etc. Genesis is the only
hope for the human race, and I am Genesis. Earth put
the responsibility of the continuation of our species directly on my back.
Funny, since I don't have a back, or shoulders for
that matter... at least not in my original Genesis form.
Maybe
if someone ever reads these logs he or she would have an accurate and detailed
account of the drama that has unfolded, but who will ever read them? The answer
is: "No one," if I fail. All humanity would be lost and forgotten
forever; all our art, accumulated knowledge, accomplishments, struggles, all
history of Earth and the human race over the
millennia. It would be as if we had never existed and all the lives had never
been lived, lost from memory for all eternity. This responsibility weighs
heavily on me and has haunted me through the years. It wasn't
fair to put this kind of responsibility on any one person, but I had accepted
the president's request and volunteered.
How
did I get myself into this mess? As much as I try to resist, I keep thinking
back to the beginning. Katy's death has made me melancholy and nostalgic this
cycle, and I find myself wanting to go back to the beginning of the logs to
relive the experience. Well, parts of it anyway, so much of it was boring when
I lived it the first time. I have plenty of time, so why not? What else do I
have to do?
Genesis
Log: 12 June 2015: (Transferred from journal of Capt. Nick Johns)
This
is the first taped entry into my journal. I started this because something really bizarre happened to me today. For the following to
make sense, I need to provide some background about myself so any future reader
will understand why what happened was so unexpected and, well, crazy.
I
spend my days in the quadriplegic ward of Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego,
California. All I can do is live within my own mind and be taken care of like a
helpless baby. Life as I knew it ended three years earlier on my second Marine
Corps deployment to Iraq. My men and I were taking a break when a terrorist
suicide bomber launched himself into a gathering of my men. Without thinking, I
tackled the intruder and drove both of us crashing through a window. That is
all I really remember until I woke up months later in a hospital, paralyzed
from my neck down. They said I was lucky to be alive, but I have often wondered
if I were blessed or cursed. Many times I feel it might have been far more
merciful, to me anyway, if I had died along with the terrorist.
For
my action in saving my men I was awarded the Navy Cross (for extreme gallantry
at risk of life). I understand that I was also recommended for the
Congressional Medal of Honor. The thing is, I don't
feel like a hero. It was something any military man or woman would do under the
same circumstances ... you save your buddies. Heroics are something that just
happens without thinking. I guess my men greatly appreciated what I did for
them, but I paid a heavy price. Truth be known, I would do it again, if only I
could.
Over
the next few months I went through some major deep depression and self-pity. I
wished for death rather than the helplessness of paralysis. My hunger for life
was stronger than I thought and finally realized life in any condition was
good. It took me a while before my mind accepted the facts of my condition. I
was not happy about it, but I was learning to cope. The most valuable lesson
learned is that it is not in my nature to give up. So, day after day I lived
on.
Today
my routine was shattered! It was about 2:00 p.m. on a mid-summer day when two
men in black suits came into the ward accompanied by a Marine Corps two star
major general and two additional aides, all in full dress uniforms. Once their
eyes locked on me, they marched directly toward me. I have never seen a more official-looking
group. The major general and his aides stood to attention and saluted sharply.
I thought, how strange that a general would salute me, but how I wished I could
have returned their salute. All I said was, "Thank you."
One
of the suits then introduced himself as Mr. Jones and nodded to his colleague
as Mr. Smith. Yeah, right, Smith and Jones, that was believable.
Mr.
Jones completely shocked me by announcing, "Capt. Nick Johns, you have
been recalled to active duty and time is of an essence, so we must leave as
soon as possible."
Needless to say, I was speechless... well
almost. I managed to blurt out, "Are you fucking blind?
Like I can really get up out of this chair and follow you out." They just
stood there, their expressions chiseled in stone, waiting. These were serious
men.
The
general said, "All will be explained in due time, but they are serious and
you have been recalled to active duty by the president himself. These gentlemen
are here to take you to your new assignment."
They
were dead serious! None looked as though they had an ounce of humor in them.
All I could think of was that it had something to do with the Congressional
Medal of Honor. Maybe the president wanted to present it to me personally. Oh
well, it didn't seem as if I had much of a choice. It wasn't like I could fight them. So, I reported to duty, and
I predict that my life will never be the same.
Genesis
Log: 14 June 2015: (Transferred from journal of Capt. Nick Johns)
I
have neglected my taped journal for a while and don't
really know where to start...I guess at the beginning. Since this is a journal,
I will log my entries as I remember the details and in the order of their
happening, as best as I can remember.
Early
the next morning I was readied and ushered out of the ward without any goodbyes
to anyone. I quickly found myself in an ambulance racing down Interstate 15
with full emergency protocol. I was headed, as it turned out, to the Marine
Corps Air Station Miramar. There I was loaded into a luxury private jet. I
suppose it really wasn't private, because the side of
the Gulfstream Jet was stenciled in big letters, FBI. Whatever was happening,
it was top priority. Why me? I thought, what is this all about?
After
what seemed like only a few hours, we landed. From what I could see, this was
also a military base, and the terrain indicated somewhere in the desert. I
certainly know what a desert looks like from my two tours in Iraq. What stuck
out in my visual inspection was the presence of Air Force One parked to the
side of the runway. Everyone was silent and there were no responses to any of
my many questions.
I
must have looked frightened, because Mr. Smith leaned down to whisper,
"Sorry kid, but no one can speak to you until after the president talks to
you. You will just have to wait, but it shouldn't be long, probably early
tomorrow."
After
a night of pampering in a private hospital ward, the ordeal began. The next
morning I was wheeled into a plush private office and left alone with my
thoughts. This was the first time I had actually been
alone since this nightmare began, but my wait was short-lived. In strode
President McIntosh, alone and looking... well, presidential. He was wearing a
tailored, dark suit that contrasted against his perfectly cropped, white hair.
The president's straight, lean figure bent forward toward me as he said,
"It is so nice to finally meet you Capt. Johns. I hope your trip was
comfortable." As he spoke his hand automatically shot forward to shake my
hand. Seeing his mistake, he quickly pulled it back and said,
"Sorry."
I
was about to finally discover what was happening. I didn't
think I was brought all this way for small talk, so I simply asked, "What
is this all about Mr. President?"
He
looked nervous with deep creases in his forehead from obvious stress. He
loosened his tie and solemnly pulled up a chair facing me and sat down. His
penetrating and unblinking blue eyes looked directly into mine. He cleared his
throat and launched into his explanation saying, "There is no easy way to
say this, so I will just lay it out for you. We need you for a special task
that we believe only you are prepared to handle. Under normal conditions, we
would go about this much slower. I will be honest though and tell you we had
chosen another, and the team had been working with him for months.
Unfortunately, before the final phase, he suddenly died of an undetected brain
aneurism. He was dead before the doctors could get to him. Now the timing
threatens to destroy our plans and hope for the future. Time is very short, and we need you now. Correction, the world needs
you; hell the human race needs you." The latter
was said with vented frustration and desperation.
I
had no idea what I could do or what talents I had that they might need, so I
asked, "What do you want me to do, and why am I the only one that can do
it?"
"I
can't say you are the only one. There might be others, but we are out of time,
and the doctors tell us you are an ideal candidate and perfect for this task.
Your chance of survival is excellent. This project is extremely important, and
we must have a person with the right temperament, thoughtful and slow to anger
and a selfless attitude toward others demonstrated by your being awarded the
Navy Cross. Trust me, they aren't easy to get. You have to have what it takes. We also require your mental
survival skills. I am told that surviving the depression of becoming a
quadriplegic after being so active in life is rare. Plus, your mental profile
tests have been meticulously reviewed and confirm these facts. There are so
many other reasons. Just believe me when I tell you that the experts agree that
you are our best choice."
"Now,
what we need you to do is harder to explain. You need to understand certain facts
that only a very few in the world know. There is an asteroid coming... a really big one, one that WILL hit Earth, and we will not
survive. It is a world killer. We found out about four years ago quite by
accident, but we have managed to keep it quiet. It would cause world-wide panic
and total anarchy. The scientists gave it a fancy name, but I don't worry about that. A name doesn't matter when you're
dead."
"We
have also developed a plan for the survival of the human race.
It is called The Genesis Project, and it involves a deep space flight to
colonize an Earth-like planet. It involves a lot more, but the scientists can
explain it better. Here is the rub; the planet is over two hundred light years
away." The president let that settle into my mind before continuing,
"Now this is what we need from you and why. The scientists want to
incorporate your brain into the central core of the on-board computer.
Artificial Intelligence (AI) is still beyond the designers' abilities and
current computer technology, and they need the human spirit, a human mind, to
be the spark of self-awareness for the on-board computer. In essence, you will
eventually become the Genesis, yet you will remain Capt. Nick Johns. Your mind
will remain alive beyond the death of Earth and mankind. Hopefully, you will
remain alive long enough to see the human race live
again, maybe even beyond."
"Why
you? Because once this is done and the ship is launched, you will be in total
control and the only hope for the continuation of the human
race. Your powers will be absolute and god-like. Your only control or
supervision will be your own selfless desire to serve mankind and the
self-imposed responsibility to do so. Another reason is that you have already
demonstrated the mental survival skills by maintaining your sanity after you
were left a quadriplegic. This, I am told, is an absolutely
necessary trait and somewhat rare. This skill will be required to keep
you sane during the long trip. Do you understand everything I have said?"
I
didn't really know what to say. My mind was reeling
from information overload, but I squeaked out a, "Yes, Sir."
The
President of the United States then looked deep into my eyes and asked,
"Will you serve me, your country, the world, and will you serve mankind?
Will you keep the human spirit alive? Wait, time is short, but I want you to
think about all that I have said and give me your answer tomorrow." With
that he stood, turned, and left me in stunned silence.
Genesis
Log: 15 June 2015: (Transferred from journal of Capt. Nick Johns)
This
has been a long day. As you can imagine, I didn't get
much sleep last night. I kept going over everything the president said to me. I
was stunned at the implications. An asteroid was coming that would destroy
Earth! Everyone would die! They wanted my brain, only my brain! Where would the
rest of me be? He said I would live on, through a two-hundred-year deep space
flight and beyond. Was this possible? Do we have the technology? It must be
true... why would he lie? The president asked me to serve humanity. He knew I
would... how could I refuse? All these things rang like a bell through my head
all night.
I
began to analyze the facts also. If I didn't agree to
his request, I would die when Earth died, and the way he put it, without me,
humanity would die also. I had no family to worry about, but I imagined they
knew that already. I was quadriplegic anyway and had little life as it was, but
of course, that was one of the main reasons they chose me. I had learned to
live without a body and maintain my sanity. Maybe I would have a better life as
a disembodied brain. That seemed almost funny.
The
more I thought about it, the more questions surfaced, but I knew I would do it.
What choice did I have? Another thing I knew with certainty: I would never be
allowed to leave, no matter what my answer would be.
The
next morning I was again wheeled into the office to await the president. This
time I met him with complete resolve and calm, because
I knew all my questions would now be answered.
Again
the president pulled up a chair to face me and waited for my answer without
saying a word. His deep blue eyes were searching my face for a sign.
I
remember looking directly into his penetrating eyes and saying, "Yes, Mr.
President, I will serve."
He
smiled and said, "Excellent! Thank you, Capt. Johns. I knew you
would." He was on the phone in an instant announcing, "The answer is
YES. We will be right down." Turning to me he said, "Let's go meet
your team."
The
president himself pushed me down the hall into a huge conference room. He was
saying that security was so high that only the key people made it into the main
complex and that didn't include secret service or
aides. When I asked where we were, he told me Area 51. That stands to reason
since Area 51 wasn't supposed to exist anyway. If a
high security area was needed, none would be better
than somewhere that doesn't exist.
Once
I was inside, the team took charge and the president offered a final thank you,
tousled my hair and was gone.
There
were about twenty people around the conference table that were introduced, but
I will talk more about them as I meet them individually. I was told that this
first meeting was more of a general... get the big picture... kind of meeting.
There were computer engineers, biologists, astronomers, scientists of all
kinds, and they were the best of the best from around the world. The accents
were definitely global.
Each
of them fought to keep the briefing as general as possible without going into
too much detail. They said each area of expertise would be provided
individually during cram indoctrinations. The gist of the briefing was pretty
much what the president had informed me; however, I learned that the timetable
required launch in only four months.
They
had been working on The Genesis Project for over three years and with virtually
unlimited funding. I guess so. Money would be useless after the public finally
learned of the impending doom of the planet. This seemed to be the biggest
concern, since it couldn't be kept secret once the
asteroid became visible in the sky, and it would soon be visible to even
amateur astronomers within weeks.
My
biggest shock was learning that alien technology had been used to build the
ship that was going to be used. Actually, alien
technology was evidently quite prevalent in most areas of expertise. Even this
seemed reasonable since we were at Area 51, where UFO nuts had been spouting
government cover up for years. The so-called UFO nuts had claimed this facility
housed a recovered UFO from Roswell, NM. The government, of course, had never
even acknowledged the existence of Area 51 much less the existence of a UFO. I
presume the supposed nuts had been right all along.
I
would be the center of attention for the next few weeks, and everyone demanded
individual time with me. I never felt more important in my life. My schedule
was already worked out in detail, and it looked as if I would be a slave to it.
My
medical check-up and conditioning process began after the briefing, and it
looks like it will be continuous from now on. I was probed, stuck, prodded,
measured and scanned by every known machine and some unknown. This lasted all
afternoon and into the night. I am so tired I barely have the energy to make
this entry. I wonder what is in store for me tomorrow.