James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.
Author's Note: I continue to plod along in this story as more occurs to me, though I can't be certain if I'll continue past this chapter. Obviously, there's lots of story to be told along this path, but I'm still debating whether or not I would prefer to have Cameron and Eglee tell this story instead. (Right now, as the title suggests, this is only the ruminations of characters, and not a true plot that carries a storyline along a developing arc. To even attempt that kind of a tale would take more time and effort than I feel I really have.)
Also, I would like to thank limona for her feedback concerning the absence of character in these meditations. I think I've addressed that shortcoming a little more effectively in this chapter.
Chapter 3 – Lydecker
"It's the night of February 28th, beginning of Tape six," Colonel Donald Lydecker muttered as he pressed the record button on his mini-cassette recorder. The device was an artifact, an incredibly useful item that had given way to more technologically advanced machines. Just like me, the colonel noted sadly as he thought about himself, and soldiers like him, eventually being replaced by soldiers like his kids. But of course, that'll never happen if I can't figure out what the hell is going on now, he added.
"To be perfectly honest, every bit of information I've discovered relating to this apparent millennia-old breeding program has astounded me," the colonel said, making certain his voice was directed at the small recorder as he placed it on the nightstand. "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine something like this was possible. I'm not even talking about the science, either. Sure, I guess you could make an argument that it's a preposterous notion to suggest that humans knew enough about inheritability of traits as far back as two thousand years ago. Then again, a reclusive monk named Gregor Medel was able to figure out the basics just by paying attention to the carnations and pea plants that he grew in his garden. Maybe it's not such a stretch to conclude that someone else may have had a similar insight thousands of years ago. I suppose it could have happened as far back as ancient Egypt. They were a fairly enlightened people, after all. The Ancient Egyptians' math was good enough to figure out an incredibly accurate calendar, build the pyramids, and discover that the Earth is round. Why not also discover inheritability, too? It's not like I'm holding them up to the standard of Watson and Crick or anything.
"No, the science isn't the problem. My understanding of human nature is the greatest stumbling block to my actually believing what I've discovered. I'm still having trouble fathoming the awe-inspiring level of commitment this kind of a project requires. Thousands of years ago, someone had to figure out genetics, then live long enough to test and record his data, then find a student who was also capable of understanding the basic concepts, and finally teach that student everything before he himself died. Then, to begin the program, this man would then need to gather the greatest human specimens available…
"On a side note, remember to look into mythology. Ancient warfare often revolved around the meeting of two champions in the area between two armies, something akin to the stories about Hector and Achilles. If such men actually did exist, they were likely early products of this very same Manticore breeding program." Lydecker pushed the pause button on his tape recorder and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes and searching the second-rate hotel room for the slightest feature of interest. All he saw, again, was the fifth of Johnny Walker he had bought a month earlier. It was still unopened, and still calling his name. I can't believe I'm carrying that around with me, the colonel thought miserably. It was his newest test, the result of his humiliation at being so totally in the dark about all that had been occurring around him in Gillette. He had allowed himself to be manipulated and used, and the only conclusion the colonel had reached was that his failure necessarily had to be the result of weakness. So he now carried a bottle of whiskey everywhere he went, constantly feeling the desire to have just the slightest sip, continually testing his resolve, his will, fighting to become as strong as he believed he once was. Tossing aside his distracting reverie, Lydecker started the tape again and concentrated on the issue at hand.
"The kwisatz haderach… that's what Frank Herbert called the Supreme Being in his sci-fi book, Dune. I remember seeing the movie by David Lynch when I was a boy. Maybe the idea of creating a super-human first entered my mind back then. Whether it did or not, though, I'm obviously not the only one to get the idea. Millennia… it's almost impossible to even deal with the scope of this. Whoever started the program is likely long forgotten, his bones turning to dust centuries ago. Hell, his entire people are probably also gone and forgotten, except maybe by those that are still a part of it all.
"Whoever started this must have gotten the best specimens available at the time," the colonel continued, returning to an earlier train of thought. "Then had them produce offspring that were presumably superior to their peers. But in what way were they superior? We're talking about ancient civilizations, so I can only assume that strength… physical superiority… was the goal. My kids were engineered to be as intellectually, as well as physically, superior, but that wouldn't have been the goal in this breeding program. In ancient civilizations, no matter how enlightened they were, might always made right. It wasn't until the development of gunpowder, when anyone with average eyesight and two hands could feasibly become an effective soldier, that physical superiority was no longer the touchstone of greatness. At that point, in order to remain the greatest, these products of the breeding program would also have needed to become smarter.
"So while they've probably been mating the best physical specimens for millennia, it's likely only been for a few centuries that the brightest of each generation were even considered for breeding. And what would that have done to the overall gene pool? Surely they weakened the physical attributes of their specimens by bringing in intellectually superior brood mares that inevitably wouldn't have been up to par as far as physical prowess is concerned. Great care would have needed to be taken at that point." Lydecker stood and began to pace around the room, allowing his thoughts to wander a slight bit, pondering each and every minor detail he had learned.
"The one advantage I can think of, if indeed my kids have any advantages at all, is superior intelligence. And I can't even be certain of that. As for disadvantages, well… there's at least one huge one – they know about us, and maybe two or three of my kids know about the program that lay behind mine. My kids are being hunted, either to remove them as a threat, or to add their genetic material to this breeding program's gene pool." Lydecker stopped dead in his tracks and walked over to the cassette recorder, lifting it from the nightstand and holding it up to his face.
"Once again I'm drawn to the same conclusion," he muttered, arriving at the same words that he had already spoken on tapes one through five. "There's a war that's been declared against my kids. It's a war that they're not prepared for, that they likely don't even realize is being waged. I've seen how Max and her siblings have reacted to me – how they've learned to hate me once they were in the real world and were able to put my actions in some kind of context. I can only assume all the others have done the same, now that they're also out. All of my kids – every last one – must despise me with every ounce of their beings. But they also need me more than ever, though they don't know it. They need to organize. They need a leader. They need to be all they can be. And me… I need to get back into the action. I need to find Max, so that I can get our people back together."
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