The Prometheus Project: Stranded Part 16

"Look, I know why the animals want to attack us," said Regan. "I can save our lives. Here's what's going on. The animals here ..."

"Shut up already!" screamed Eric. "No one here has to listen to a kid anymore. And we're not! If I hear one more sentence from you I'm going to vomit. I don't care about your saving-the-world fantasies. We're done putting up with it!"

"Talk that way to my daughter again," hissed Amanda Resnick, "and I'll see to it it's the last thing you ever say."

"You think you can take me?" yelled Eric defiantly.

"What are you all doing!" screamed Miguel from the ground. He had lost so much blood that the effort of speaking this loudly made him dizzy. "Stop this!" He waved his hand limply at the dozens upon dozens of deadly predators outside the shield as they continued to pace anxiously. "Save it for them," he said.

"Oh great, security has finally decided to come back to life," said Eric. "Brilliant idea, Miguel. We'll save it for them. I've got news for you-nothing we save for them will help us. You know what would have helped us? If the lieutenant in charge of security had brought an actual weapon with him instead of a toy dart gun."

Regan couldn't bear to listen to any more. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the silver remote control for the force-field generator and ran to the edge of the shield ten yards away. Donna, Eric, and Bob began to go after her.

"Stop!" she yelled, holding up the remote. "One more step and I lower the shield! I'll do it!" she screamed.

All three stopped at once.

"Regan, give me the remote," pleaded her father. "Get away from the edge. It's still receding."

"Sorry, Dad," she said sadly. "But this is something I have to do."

Regan wanted to burst into tears. To throw herself into her father's arms. She was so weary. But this was their only chance and she refused to give up.

"Listen to me, everyone," she yelled. "I'm going to tell you my theory. And you're going to listen. If I even see a single one of you not paying attention I'll lower this shield. You'll have no time to start the fires. The beasts of Isis will be on you before you can reach in your pocket for a lighter. I'll do it!" she screamed with a frightening intensity. "I swear it!"

As they looked into her eyes, blazing with desperation and crazed conviction, not one of the members of the stranded Isis expedition had any doubt at all that she would carry out her threat.

CHAPTER 28.

Sixth Sense

"Alright, already!" growled Bob Zubrin. "If having the stage means that much to you, tell us this theory of yours. Save our lives," he said mockingly. "We're all ears."

Regan was momentarily elated, but she made sure not to show it. Her ploy had worked! She had been sure they would call her bluff, but they hadn't. She quickly changed gears, knowing that she had a very limited time to get through to her unwilling audience. There wasn't a second to waste. "The wildlife of Isis doesn't have a sense of smell," she began evenly. "But they have a sense that we don't have." She paused. "They can sense emotions. Negative emotions. It's a kind of telepathy I think."

"Are you kidding me," snapped Eric, rolling his eyes. "I think I'd rather get torn to shreds by the predators than have to listen to your lunatic nonsense."

Regan ignored him. "All animals give off primitive emotional energy. So among other things, the wildlife of Isis can use this sense to determine what is alive and what isn't. And when they are being threatened. But when we first came here we gave off emotional energy on a different frequency. Mom brought a group of calm scientists here to do what they love doing, so they radiated either no emotions or positive ones. Since human emotional energy was alien, and positive, the Isis wildlife couldn't sense us."

"You know what I'm really good at sensing," said Donna scathingly. "Stupidity. And this has to be the dumbest idea I've ever heard."

A scowl came over Regan's face and she was about to respond angrily when she caught herself and forced herself to relax. She took a deep breath and her expression softened. Their lives depended on her not getting sidetracked. "So humans seemed like trees to Isis animals," she continued, as if Donna had never spoken. "When they see a tree, they know it isn't alive. So they ignore it. They might walk around it or scratch their backs on its bark, but they don't think of it as a threat or something they can hunt for a meal."

"You can't compare us to a tree," said Donna irritably. "They don't move. We do."

"So do rocks rolling down hills," pointed out Regan. "Or leaves. But to these animals, anything that doesn't radiate emotional energy isn't alive. It's something to ignore-unless it's about to hit you."

"What an imagination," said Donna, shaking her head in disgust. "You should be a fantasy writer."

"Would you shut up already, Donna!" barked Bob. "Let her finish. This is torture enough without you prolonging it."

The two glared at each other angrily but said nothing else.

"Everyone here knows what happened the last time a team from Prometheus visited Isis," continued Regan. "Carl accidentally killed an animal, one that must have been able to disguise its appearance and emotional energy. Mich.e.l.le Cooper had her feet resting on one of them for a long time, but it didn't react at all. Only when Carl's foot crushed the animal's chest did it pay any attention to humans. Why? Because Carl was totally shocked when this happened. Powerful negative emotions must have been pouring out of him. Fear. Guilt. Surprise. The animal's "emotional energy" sense was bombarded by it. Carl was a not-alive thing it suddenly sensed as being very alive."

Regan paused. "So what did this animal do? It used its sharp teeth to attack back, which caused even stronger negative emotions in Carl, followed by powerful negative emotions from all the humans. Fear, disgust, horror, hatred. It all poured out."

"Okay, we get it!" snapped Eric. "So they realized we humans were living things and attacked the group."

"Yes, and were killed because of it," said Regan. "By Carl. He shot them all." She continued to clutch the force-field remote tightly in her right hand. "But I overheard Carl a few weeks ago talking with another member of security about it," she said.

This wasn't true, but she wanted to relay the information Ryan had given her minutes before and this was the only way she could do it.

"I didn't understand what it was about at the time, but I do now."

"Get to the point!" demanded Eric.

"Carl said he was ashamed of himself for killing two of the lava-rock animals that weren't a threat anymore. Even he couldn't understand why he had reacted the way he did. He said he had been in a state of total rage more powerful than any he had ever felt before. That's all I heard. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but now I get what must have happened. Human emotional energy and Isis emotional energy aren't compatible. The animals were hating Carl and this somehow affected his mind, causing him to hate them back. The hatred bounced back and forth between them, growing as it did."

"This is nonsense," said Bob, glaring at Regan. "There are far simpler explanations. You don't have to resort to your ridiculous theory. I was there. Carl sticking his foot through an animal's chest put him and the rest of us on their radar screen. Period. Then he went berserk for a while because he was in ma.s.sive pain. End of story."

"If only the one animal he stepped on suddenly noticed him, I'd agree with you," said Regan evenly. "But all the creatures noticed him, and not just him but the entire group of humans-humans not a single animal on Isis had ever reacted to before."

"This still could have been due to any number of other factors," persisted Bob.

"True, but I'm not finished. The best evidence is what's been happening to us. When we got here we saw lots of wildlife, but it completely ignored us, the way it always has. No animals tried to approach the trams. No animals circled us when we stopped. No animals attacked. Despite what happened to Carl, we felt perfectly safe walking around outside of the trams, which we did for ten minutes or so without the slightest problem. So when was the first time any of them did pay attention to us?"

"Come on Regan," snapped her mother irritably. "The first time we were noticed was in the rainforest, when the pack surrounded us. That's obvious. So what's your point?"

"My point is that this was right after we heard the tape-recorded screams," said Regan. "Which surprised us and scared us half to death. We were afraid and nervous. Everyone raced into the woods while these strong negative emotions were bursting out of us, and this is the reason we were noticed. Three of the wolf-things picked up this powerful new emotional 'scent' and came out to investigate. Seeing them made us even more afraid. Which caused more of the pack to investigate. Which caused even more fear in us humans. From there things s...o...b..lled, and there was no turning back.

"The emotional energy of Isis animals and humans isn't compatible," continued Regan. "Like fingernails sc.r.a.ping across a chalkboard. Like a bright light shined in your eyes. Like an ice pick being stabbed into the emotional centers of both their brains and ours. Incompatible emotional frequencies basically driving both groups mad. We first began arguing with each other when we were being attacked by the pack. Miguel yelled at Mom. She yelled back. Cam called Bob an idiot for not testing the tranquilizer. Remember?"

Regan remembered asking Ryan for his makeshift club to use as a torch. He had sensed the absolute urgency in her telepathic request, yet he had not given it to her or asked her why she needed it. Instead he had barked at her to get her own.

"You're nothing if not creative," said Eric. "I'll give you that. Yes, we've been on edge. No doubt about it. But not because of what you're saying. Because we were attacked and almost killed. Because scores of unstoppable killers are stalking us and want us dead. Because we've been stranded on a primitive planet by a madman. That's what's causing us all to be edgy."

Regan shook her head in disbelief. "Edgy? Do you really think that word covers how we've been acting?" said Regan. "How about incredibly hostile, bitter, and hateful. How about filled with uncontrollable rage." She paused. "Believe me, I know. When we were fighting off those wolf-things I was insane with rage. I love animals. And we invaded their s.p.a.ce. Yes, I should have wanted to do whatever was needed to get away, that's understandable. But getting away wasn't enough. I wanted all of them dead. I wanted to set them all on fire. I wanted to rip them apart with my bare hands."

Mr. Resnick nodded. "I felt the same way," he admitted.

"I've been in combat before, and in a number of high pressure situations," said Cam weakly. "But I have never felt the level of blind hatred I did during that fight."

Miguel nodded his agreement. "Regan is right," he said.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Regan's veins. She was beginning to get through to them. She decided to use an example involving sweat that Ryan had made up when he was convincing her of the truth. He said he thought of it because people naturally started sweating when they were afraid, and a swarm of bees had shown him that sweat could be dangerous. She had no idea what he meant by that.

"Imagine a planet full of carnivores with an incredible sense of smell," said Regan. "But they can't smell humans so they leave them alone. The only human scent they can smell is sweat, and this smell drives them out of their minds with rage. When they smell it they have to destroy the source at all cost. So everything is perfect between humans and these animals until one of the humans sweats for some reason."

"Then the carnivores smell it and come after them," said Mr. Resnick.

"Right. Which causes the humans to sweat some more. Which causes more animals to pick up the scent and attack. Which causes the humans to sweat even more. It's a never ending cycle. But what we've been dealing with is far worse, because what the wildlife is bringing out of us isn't sweat. It's fear. It's hatred. It's rage. It's a kind of madness."

Even though the eyes of many in the group burned with the exact rage of which Regan was speaking, she knew she was getting through.

"Hostility between us and the native wildlife is mirrored back and forth and amplified," said Regan. "Have any of you ever remembered being this angry? For this long?"

Mrs. Resnick shook her head. "No. Not even close. But I can't shake it. You're my daughter and I know I love you. But every time I hear your voice I want to scream at you to shut up. It's been taking all my self-control not to try to rip the arms off everyone in the group."

There were murmurs of agreement from several members of the expedition.

"This team is as good as it gets," said Regan. "Everyone here has been tested and selected because they're great scientists. Or the best military people in the country," she added, nodding in Miguel and Cam's direction. "Calm. Smart. Good at working with others. Yes we've been under a huge amount of pressure. But look at us! We've been at each other's throats since we were attacked in the rainforest."

She had even more evidence, but it was evidence Ryan had given her that she couldn't pa.s.s on. Evidence that had helped Ryan piece everything together. She and her brother had been in some tough spots. And the tougher things got, the closer they became. Ryan had always kept his cool under pressure. But not this time. This time he had turned into a hateful jerk. In addition to some of the hurtful things he had said to Regan, he told her how he beat his fists against the shield until he couldn't lift them. How he had hurled stones at the pack and screamed at them until his throat hurt. Ryan had gone insane with rage also. But just a few minutes back on Earth had helped him regain his emotional balance.

"There are four of us who have been in a state of constant hatred," continued Regan. "And four of us who haven't. You all know who you are."

Everyone surveyed everyone else and it became instantly obvious. Four sets of eyes were rational. Four sets were burning with barely contained fury.

"Eric, Bob, Donna, and Mom are filled with hatred," said Regan. "Miguel, Cam, Dad and I aren't. So what's different about these two groups?"

"Just tell us!" thundered Donna, further demonstrating Regan's point. "You're right. You must be. These animals are driving us mad. Which makes it hard to concentrate. So get on with it!"

"The difference is that Miguel, Cam, Dad and I were all injured," said Regan. "We were all dosed with the Med-Pen. The four of you weren't."

Her father tilted his head in thought. "So the Med-Pen must interpret the changes to the emotional centers of our brains as infections. Infections it can cure."

"Exactly," said Regan.

Ryan had told her that when their mom had finally used a Med-Pen on Carl, it had rebalanced him emotionally within about five minutes. Regan's own experience had been similar.

"I felt normal about five minutes after I used the Med-Pen," said Regan.

Mr. Resnick nodded. "Me too. I was finally able to remain calm."

"So that's why you needed a Med-Pen," said Eric. "You wanted to dose us all and cure us of this emotional poisoning."

"Yes. And I think when we do the animals will go back to ignoring us."

"It won't happen," said Donna. "We're far past the point of no return."

"We aren't," insisted Regan. "Have you noticed that none of the animals threw themselves at the shield trying to get at Miguel and Cam? That's because they couldn't 'smell' them emotionally. So we need for everyone to be cured by the Med-Pen. And then we have to relax. Be super calm. Generate no emotions, or even positive emotions. Let the animals of Isis go back to not being able to sense us, to thinking we're harmless trees or something."

"Okay, already," said Eric Morris, nodding. "I took the Med-Pen," he confessed, pulling the alien device from his pocket. "Let's give it a try."

Eric pointed the Med-Pen at Donna, Bob, Amanda Resnick and himself, pressing the appropriate control each time. "You had better be right!" he hissed, unable to control his hostility even knowing what was causing it.

Regan blew out a mouthful of air in relief and lowered the silver remote. "In five minutes or so you'll all be able to think clearly again," she said. "We'll be able to work as a team again."

No one spoke for three or four minutes, waiting to see what would happen.

Mr. Resnick broke the long silence. "Your a.n.a.lysis is excellent, Regan," he said. "But do you have any idea how this ability to transmit and receive emotional energy could have developed?"

Regan thought about it for a moment. "Not really," she said.

"I think I do," said her mother, already beginning to feel more like herself. "I think it has to do with the volcanic nature of the planet. We've seen that lava can sneak up on you. Maybe in the early days of life on Isis this happened all the time. Rare animals were born with the ability to sense emotional energy at a distance. Negative emotional energy. Because they could sense the panic and fear of hundreds of other animals running away from lava many miles away, they could save themselves. Evolution rewarded this trait. These animals survived to have offspring while many animals without this trait didn't."

"An interesting hypothesis," said Eric, also now feeling more like his old self. "We wondered why the animals surrounding us had left when we were about to set up the portable force-field. Now we know."

"Right," said Mrs. Resnick. "They knew the lava was coming-ten or fifteen minutes before it reached us. They sensed the collective panic and fear of the animals that were closer to the lava source and hadn't been warned. While the lava river was on us before we had any warning, they had plenty of time to get away. They left calmly. Orderly."

"A very unique survival mechanism," said Bob. "From its early start as a natural disaster warning mechanism, this sense probably evolved a variety of uses. And the animals evolved the ability to send as well as receive emotions."

"The sense probably takes the place of smell in many situations," said Mrs. Resnick. "Predators on Earth use scent to track prey. Prey animals can smell hidden predators approaching. Isis animals must have developed a complex system to use emotional energy to sense or to deceive other animals."

Regan grinned. This was more like it. The three biologists were working together again. Without the slightest hint of hostility. They were back to acting like enthusiastic scientists rather than deranged serial killers.

After just a few more minutes there could be no doubt: the cure had taken complete effect. For the first time since being attacked in the woods, all eight of the human beings still stranded on Isis were calm and rational once again.

Although the predators were still circling, still itching to get at them, the humans stayed relaxed and unafraid. Gradually predator after predator wandered off, as if not sure why they had been there in the first place. Suddenly freed from the overwhelming compulsion to stop the source of the brain-splitting emotional energy being directed toward them, the wildlife returned to normal. Animals that were natural enemies woke up as if they had been in a trance, and fled from each other or attacked each other violently.

Within five minutes every animal had dispersed.

"Ryan?" broadcast Regan questioningly once the crisis was over.

"I'm still here," came the immediate reply.

"You did it!" she told him excitedly. "It worked!"

"Fantastic," he replied, finally letting out the emotional breath he had been holding for almost an hour.

If his theory had been wrong his family would have surely died on Isis. Worry had eaten at his insides like battery acid as he waited to hear back from Regan. It had been the longest wait of his life.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that being on Earth brought you back to your senses," broadcast Regan.