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    The Progenitors
    The Progenitors
    The Progenitors
    Ebook143 pages1 hour

    The Progenitors

    By J. E. Andrews

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The Progenitors is a Science Fiction tale based in the far distance of space and time. Akena is of the Shymyra, a governor of her people. Her world is ancient. Ruins of a 'lost' civilization fill vast expanses of wasteland. The past holds little interest to her people, they live in peace and contented comfort. The 'Progenitors' not only created the Shymyra, but gave them the task of renewing the world while guarding it and its people.
    Visitors from a vast alien civilization find the ruins of great interest as they strive to learn of the 'lost' people of this world. Side by side with the ruins, Akena's people own technology that surpasses anything the visitors possess. The visitors are allowed to seek the past within the ruins, they are forbidden to explore Akena's technology. The visitors constantly press these restrictions, seeking treasures both of the past and of superior technology.
    Akena's world is a dangerous place. Many of those dangers come with the visitors. When a visitor's craft is attacked and crashes in a remote forest, Akena finds it is her duty to investigate when the visitors fail to do so. Akena's curiosity is piqued by the visitors' behavior. What she finds at the crash site only creates more questions. And... she finds a young human survivor. Akena must escort this young man across a wilderness and return him to his people. She hopes to find answers along the way.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ. E. Andrews
    Release dateApr 21, 2016
    ISBN9781310720611
    The Progenitors
    Author

    J. E. Andrews

    Born and raised in and around Baltimore, Maryland.(I started the year the Orioles moved there) I started reading at an average age, then I found fiction - Ghost stories - and my imagination kicked into gear. Between reading science fiction, fantasy, comic books, detective stories, westerns and other tall tales I didn't have much time for writing. But in those spare moments when the dreamer held rein... I considered what might go on paper.During a busy life I met all kinds of interesting people and have seen some interesting situations, both fun and tragic. What that richness has given me, (besides two wonderful daughters) is a wealth of information to create characters who enjoy telling the stories they're in.I've created worlds, universes and tales in stacks of notebooks (yes, I write with a pen) that I enjoy and I hope others will as well. It takes time and effort to write but I find it takes nearly as much to get my stories to the epub stage.This isn't much of a profile or bio, I suppose, but I hope you find more enjoyment in my stories. It's always more fun to read the story than look to see who's behind the curtain making it up...

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      Book preview

      The Progenitors - J. E. Andrews

      The Progenitors

      by

      J. E. Andrews

      a Science Fiction Novella

      Copyright April 2016 by John E. Andrews

      Smashwords Edition July 2020

      Cover Art by Piyo

      Smashwords Edition

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      This Book Is

      Dedicated

      To My

      Daughters,

      Jess

      &

      Joy

      and

      Friends

      Table of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      - 1 -

      Beautiful days are oft interrupted by the unexpected.

      A loud snap and crackle hissed in the high clear sky. I glanced to see a black cloud expanding, pointing away in the distance. The sound of an explosion reached me. I crouched like it was a physical thing, ears flat, tracking the line of smoke as it arced away. It would hit inside a forest preserve.

      I looked to the sky again, where another airborne vehicle flew away. Whether with the fallen one or there by coincidence it should've rendered assistance. But the ways of these visitors are not our ways. I could be mistaken of their concern one to another.

      I began running in the direction of the downed vehicle. It was unlikely my help would be required. Still, it was a part of my duty.

      I am Akena, a governor of my people. Once, not so long ago, our world was all but forgotten by those who ranged the stars. We'd known they would visit. We'd been forewarned. With these visitors it had been a matter of time. They were ever changing. We did not.

      Pacing myself in the heat of the mid-day sun, I ran along the wasteland's edge. In all directions the ever-shifting landscape of sand was the same. There was life here, faint and sometimes deep. Most ignored me, busy with survival, day to day life. Some few observed my passing for their curiosity.

      From the sands to the rock I trotted. My shadow extended ever before me. Life was more abundant among the rocks, but survival was a greater task, requiring cooperation. This region of rock rose gradually in altitude. The gullies and ravines grew more treacherous, though easy enough for me. Above and to the sides, the rock was wind-sculpted and dull, no easy place to live. There were serpents and burrowers. The largest were the rare Teilflag, large flying hunters. The coloring and patterns of their feathers matched the rocks where they sat, conserving their energy, until their sharp eyes spied prey.

      I felt the eyes of one upon me. I am not prey.

      Clawing my way upward, I mounted the range, reaching the plateau. Crossing the bare, gently sloping rock with more speed than I'd climbed the face, I studied the distant preserve. Standing, panting, the breeze from the river valley cooled me in the early night. There was no sign of the crash, now. There would have been heat, likely a smoldering fire and smoke. The trees of the preserve were large. Their canopy would diffuse the smoke. It was too dark now to see any trace of smoke.

      No fire showed.

      To the north, beyond and above these heights, the river flowed through a slash in the dying mountains. We say dying, since once upon a time they touched the clouds with pointed fingers. Now, of course, there were fewer clouds and the sky came down to touch them.

      I moved to where the valley spread beyond my feet, here the river was not the rushing torrent it was to the north. I had determined the trajectory. I knew approximately where the vehicle had crashed. Down the steep cliff-side I hurdled, changing briefly to glide to the bottom near the widened river. I could have skimmed across, instead I changed to swimmer, diving into the freshening coolness. After the dry of the dunes this was a pleasure. As well, there were many small swimmers herein to ease my hunger.

      Upon the other side I changed to my usual sleek form to continue. Rocky and barren landscape climbed with a regular, steep slope. Beyond that ridge, the land changed. Ranging into the distance was the forest preserve. It was reclaimed land, planted and tended ages ago with fostered life thriving within its depths. Many of the trees were second and third growth, achieving heights rivaling these ridges. Soon, in a hundred years, the trees would prevent a view of the farther mountains, where now they were only screened.

      I slowed my pace, enthralled with the view, with the spread of life across what had been empty lands. It had never been as bad as the wasteland. This was a clear sign of the progenitors. Only starlight lit my path, but I knew the way. When the foul odor of burnt petrochemicals and plasma hit my tongue I was beneath the canopy of the forest. It would never be too dark to see, but shapes were often confusing.

      Local denizens, having scattered from the impact area, were making their way back.

      This darktime movement gave me direction, since the smell of the wreckage was spread wide. I took familiar paths.

      A sound not borne of the woodland became my guide. I picked up my pace. There was no hope of survivors. From the first sight of it going down I knew that. The aircars of the visitors were heavy and unwieldy. My concern was for the damage to the land. During all of this time there had been no craft of the visitors in the skies.

      There it was, with blue flames surrounding it, the blue giving an impression of coolness. Tongues of yellow flickered on occasion. A thin smoke spilled from the wreck accompanied by a constant hiss. It did not look good. Split and shattered tree limbs pointed out the path of descent. A plowed furrow showed the impact zone. A mound of earth held its prow down though it was unlikely to ever touch the sky again. The frame was bent. The engine compartment was a great blossomed black flower of metal shards. Creaking and tics of sound came from all sides as though it tried for life. It was the cooling of metal parts and the frame.

      Only the continuing hiss raised questions.

      Blackened ground showed where a broad range of fire had burned after impact. This blue fire showed no sign of diminishing. I didn't know what fueled it. I didn't know what still seeped into the soil or what hissed, leaking. I circled it, near enough that my fur singed from the heat, sniffing the odd smells, trying to identify the raw chemicals rather than those cooking off.

      Along one side, where the slight breeze crossed the cracked hatch, I caught an easily recognized odor. The smell of burnt flesh was so thick I couldn't separate the numbers. Male and female visitors were mingled in death. I did not want to force a way inside. I did not want to witness these dead. My pacing continued. I kept my tail carefully distant from the lap of flames.

      It was my duty.

      Still, I moved from the restless sound of the craft. I turned my ears to the sky. Beyond the faint sigh of wind in leaves, there was nothing of aircraft. The technology of the visitors was adequate to track every one of their vehicles. Even one like this being lost from rescuers was unusual. Before I could resume my pacing I heard a living sound. A faint breath drawn in over parched lips, then moaned in release.

      At the skewed hatchway I changed for strong hands and back. The metal was hot but not searing my flesh as I gripped and tore the panel free.

      Smoke billowed momentarily, thick and black and horrible.

      Even before that

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