Pandora: Genesis

I gratefully acknowledge one of the foremost creative geniuses of our times, James Cameron, for conceiving the lush moon Pandora and the "noble savages," the Na'vi, that inhabit it. This story uses the setting he created for his movie, Avatar. I have not received any money for my work based on Avatar. If I could get paid by the hour for these stories, I would retire and spend all my time dancing and writing in comfort.

This story contains all original characters and situations, giving my thoughts on how the moon Pandora became the home of the Na'vi as seen in the movie.

Sorry for the darkness of this first chapter. The light is always brighter when coming out of the dark. Technological advancement has little correlation with social advancement.

In case you don't get it, "medsen" is medical sensor, "percom" is personal communicator, like a very fancy cell phone, "stat" is short for status report, "medbay" is medical bay, the hospital in the military space station, "decon" is short for decontamination, and "deconed" is short for decontaminated.

Chapter One: Transfer

"Prisoner, present yourself for transport."

"Sir, thank you for coming. Please take me to the infirmary. The garbage I'm fed runs right through me. I haven't slept well since I got here, because I spend all my time on the toilet."

"You are being transported to another facility, not the infirmary. Hurry up, we have a schedule to meet. You're first on our list."

"Sir, please check my cell logs, you'll see I'm sick."

"This is not a hospital or a fancy hotel, this is a prison for condemned prisoners, the lowest scum. There are no medsens in the cells. Your record will be annotated. Wipe your butt. Leave your clothes in the cell, you won't need them anymore."

"Sir, I need to wear something, I'm so cold now."

"Quit stalling, and assume the position, naked. Do you want us to come in there and make you hurt really, really bad because you tripped?"

"No, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Right away, Sir." The prisoner pulls off his shirt as he stands up, steps out of his pants, shuffles across the dank and smelly cell, stands with his back against the door, and puts his hands through the slot where food trays are passed.

"That's a good prisoner. Wish everyone was as polite as you." The guard fastens the handcuffs on the prisoner, and pushes the hands back inside the cell. He speaks into his percom. "Guard 2376 requesting the opening of cell 17-242. Doctor also requested, prisoner has severe diarrhea and may be too weak for transport. He looks very bad and is having trouble standing."

"Doctor is on the way. Even if this prisoner is dead, he must be transported. He's going to a military facility. They want him and they will have him, dead or alive; otherwise, we are all in big trouble. Put a diaper on the prisoner and immobilize him until the doctor arrives." The door slides open and stops with a loud clang. The guard who has not spoken pulls a diaper out of a wall cabinet and puts it on the naked prisoner. The two guards grab the arms of the prisoner and back him out of the cell, down the corridor, and into ankle stocks near the far wall.

"Sirs, please don't put me in these ankle stocks," the prisoner pleads. "If I pass out and fall over, I could break my legs or ankles." The prisoner has heard the screams of other prisoners injured that way in the short time he has been here, sometimes purposely caused by guards with scores to settle.

"Don't worry, prisoner. We'll fix you up so you can't get hurt. I was ordered to immobilize you, and I'll get into big trouble if I don't, especially with a doctor coming for you. My bosses will probably escort him here, so I can't be too careful. This is a lousy job, but at least it keeps food on my family's table, and a dump to keep the table and family in." The talkative guard holds the prisoner upright while the other guard wraps a chain from an overhead winch down one shoulder, through the armpit, across the chest, through the other armpit, and up the other shoulder, hooking the end to the chain above the prisoner's head. Since the prisoner's arms are still cuffed together behind his back, this simple wrap is sufficient. The quiet guard uses the winch control to take the slack out of the chain and hold the prisoner upright. "See, you can't fall over now, so your legs are safe and secure." The two guards step away a few paces and make smalltalk about their favorite sports teams while waiting for the doctor to arrive. The prisoner hangs from the chain, shivering, glad to have the diaper holding in a little heat.

Soon the doctor appears, pushing a cart of medicines and medical instruments, escorted by two uniformed guards, one pushing an empty gurney. When the doctor sees the prisoner chained upright, he explodes "What are you idiots doing? Trying to kill this man?"

The escorts, the commander of the guard force and the officer of the day, look at each other and laugh out loud together. The commander looks at the doctor and says "Come on, doc. That's really good. The prisoners in this place are dead already, it's just that their bodies have not caught up with their permanent records. Their income is zero. Their net worth is zero. Their credit score is zero. They have no percom account, so no videos, audios, images, texts, or net. They have no name, no family, no pets. They have no home address, other than this prison, and no hobbies or occupation, other than 'convicted subversive'. The only entry missing in their records is the date and time of death, and that really doesn't matter much, does it?"

The doctor looks down at the floor, sighs, and then looks up at his escorts. "Look, I know I'm here because I stole drugs to supplement my income, but that does not mean that my commitment to care for others has vanished with my personal dreams. This man looks really bad. He is certainly no threat to anyone. Even healthy, I doubt he could physically harm any of your guards. Get him down and on the gurney, and I'll do what I can to make him healthy enough to travel, or at least seem like we took good care of him before transferring him out of here."

The officer of the day answers "That's good, doc, because there's a high priority on this one. Don't know who he is or how he rated the high priority, and I don't want to know. That's way above my pay grade. Someone in the military has plans for him, and we must send him to that someone. So, fix him up good, doc, and keep us all out of trouble. Guards, get this man down and on the gurney in one piece, without any more accidents or injuries."

Both guards answer "Yes, Sir!" in unison. They remove the ankle stocks first, and ease the chain down, letting the prisoner slump onto the floor. Once the chain is removed, they pick the prisoner up and lay him down on the gurney. "Should we shackle him to the gurney?"

"No, doesn't look like that is necessary. He still has handcuffs on, that's good enough for now. There are many other prisoners scheduled to make the same trip as this one. Collect those prisoners now and get them into the mini-bus. Come back and get this guy last. We'll stay here with the doc. If we go to the infirmary, we'll let you know. Don't worry about being behind schedule, just get the others together as quickly as you can. I have already notified the military about the medical issue. They weren't happy, but they can't do anything except bitch until the prisoners are in their hands."

"Yes, Sir!" they both answer again in unison, and hurry off to the next transferee on the list.

The doctor goes to work on the prisoner. He starts an IV, and explains it to the prisoner. "I'm hooking you up to an IV with sugar water and other nutrients. This came out of the refrigerator just a few minutes ago. Normally, I would warm it up before dispensing it, but did not get the chance to do that. So, you will feel much better at first, but the cold will make you shiver even more as it infuses throughout your body." Just as the doctor explained, he feels really good, almost euphoric, as the nutrients course through his body and satisfy his hunger. He has not felt good like this since before his arrest months ago. Then, his shivering intensifies because his body needs to maintain its core temperature in spite of the cold IV fluid. The doctor covers him with the sheets that came on the gurney, and that helps somewhat. Next, the doctor explains the drug he is preparing. "I'm going to give you an injection of an anti-diarrheal drug into your IV. The best drugs for diarrhea are addictive, and they don't provide them to prisons. So, you are getting the best I have to give you. It works fairly well, but leaves a very metallic taste in your mouth, and no amount of water or other drinks will make the taste go away. So, you will taste it in a few minutes, and it will stay with you for hours." The doctor injects the medicine into the IV line, and just as predicted, the metallic taste soon arrives. It reminds the prisoner of the time when, as a boy, he stuffed his mouth full of metal ball bearings on a dare. However, no amount of swallowing makes this bad taste go away now.

The two high-level escorts lose interest in the proceedings, move several paces away, and begin discussing the latest game of a local sports franchise.

The doctor asks with a loud voice "Are you feeling any better now?"

The prisoner shakes his head in the affirmative, as his teeth are chattering with his shivers, and it seems that talking is too difficult.

The doctor leans over, and whispers "I wish you could speak, I'd really like to know what you did to get here only to be taken away by the military."

The prisoner stops his teeth chattering long enough to whisper weakly "I'm a middle manager at a tech firm, but my hobbies are history and anthropology, mainly primitive cultures. Somehow, I've been labeled a subversive and my life has been destroyed by the government. What the military wants with me, I don't know."

The doctor sat up, and again with a loud voice says "That bad taste will stay with you for hours. The shivering will stop once you warm up. Let me ask my escorts." Looking towards the escorts, the doctor asks "Could we go to the infirmary? A hot shower would really help my patient."

"Let me check the progress on the other transferees first." The commander turns around and talks on his percom. He turns back, and says "Half of the prisoners are on the mini-bus now. You will have only a few minutes. However, the infirmary is much closer to the mini-bus than we are here. If we really move fast, the prisoner can get some minutes to warm up."

"Thank you, commander. That is very considerate of you."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." The two escorts laugh as they grab the gurney and take off down the corridor. The doctor closes up his cart, and pushes it after them, running as fast as he can.

Within minutes, they arrive at the infirmary. The doctor hangs the IV bag on a portable stand, turns on the shower, takes off his clothes, helps the prisoner off the gurney, removes the diaper and throws it beside the toilet, and holds the prisoner up in the shower. Soon, the hot water revives the prisoner and stops his shivering. In silence, he drys off the prisoner, and then himself, with the escorts watching.

The doctor says "There's the toilet, go if you can. I will put a new diaper on you, because you may have a long trip ahead of you. Commander, is there an outfit for this prisoner to wear?"

"These transferees get jumpsuits as they board the mini-bus. Usually, the military makes them change as they leave the mini-bus, because we always get the jumpsuits back."

"Do you have a jumpsuit here the prisoner can put on now?"

"No. They are all down at the mini-bus."

"Would it be acceptable to wrap the prisoner in a sheet for the trip to the mini-bus?"

"Yeah, we've done more than plenty so far, so that is not too much more." The commander's percom cackles, and he turns to answer. After a few moments, he turns back. "Your timing is good, doc. The second to last prisoner is on the mini-bus now. They will be here within minutes to take your patient."

The prisoner gets up from the toilet, and the doctor wipes his butt and puts on a new diaper. The doctor washes his hands, and says loudly, "I'm going to tape the IV bag to your shoulder. Leave it in as long as you can, you need all the hydration and minerals you can get." The doctor tapes the bag to the prisoner, and then wraps a sheet from the gurney around him.

The prisoner looks to the doctor, bows toward him, and says "Thank you for your kind consideration and treatment. I feel I owe you my life. I hope the administration here will allow you to continue your good work." Looking to the commander and officer of the day, he says "Sirs, thank you for allowing the doctor to treat me. I am forever indebted to you, and have no way to repay you, except to say thank you again."

As the escorts nod in silent reply, the first two guards stride into the infirmary to pick up the prisoner. The commander says "This prisoner can wear the sheet until he changes into the jumpsuit. He has an IV bag taped to his shoulder. Make sure the military knows about that and the diaper when you get there. They will say they're contraband, but tell them they are medically necessary. The doc has got him in pretty good shape for traveling. Thanks for your work today, doc. You saved all our asses with the military. Well, let's get back to work." With that, the guards leave with the prisoner, and the commander and officer of the day return to their offices.

As the doctor is cleaning up, he finds a note in the first diaper, written on toilet paper from a cell. It looks like a net address, account name, and password. "Dumb bastard, probably doesn't know his cerebral implant has already reported him writing it down. This paper is a one-way ticket to hell. He wraps it in the dirty diaper and drops them into the biohazard recycling slot.

The prisoner is escorted to the mini-bus, with his legs unshackled and wrapped in the sheet, by the same two guards who escorted everyone else now sitting in place. The mini-bus is an ancient design, centuries old, but looks very new. Obviously, it has spent much time outside this universe. It consists of a thin metal plate, sitting flat on the ground, with two large padded seats facing inward on one end, and thirty-two rows of four bare-metal seats each facing the other way. An aisle runs down the center for its full length. Only one bare-metal seat in the front row remains empty, along with the two padded seats. Unlike consumer vehicles, there are no walls, windows, or top. Just a plain, military style vehicle for moving small numbers of personnel without weapons or belongings, sitting on a plain concrete pad.

His status is immediately noticed by the occupants, as he is the only prisoner arriving at the mini-bus who is not naked and not wearing leg shackles. He stops at the table along the side of the bus where the quiet guard removes and folds up the sheet, and helps him into a jumpsuit. The occupants also see the IV bag while he is uncovered. The guard then puts on the leg shackles, and leads him to his seat. He is very glad that he is last. He recognizes several occupants, even considers some to be friends and acquaintances through his social net, but tries to avoid making eye contact and giving off any signs of recognition. They may all be convicted subversives condemned to death for their crimes, real or imagined, but it is never wise to give away any information around the government. The guard locks the shackles into the seat, so the prisoner can barely move. The talkative guard picks up a slender plastic wand from the table, and walks down the center aisle, waving the wand over each head until the wand buzzes confirmation that the prisoner's ID number has been read the from the cerebral implant embedded deep within the brain. When he finishes, his percom beeps with a text message saying all prisoners identified are cleared for transport to the same military compound that is the destination of the mini-bus. He tosses the wand back onto the table, and he and the quiet guard take their places in the padded seats. He calls the prison control center, who connects him with the military control center. They verify that the destination pad is clear, and initiate the jump. The military controls all bubble generators, and keeps them in secure facilities, so no terrorists, criminals, or subversives can use them. Even consumer vehicles are controlled by the military, which has made this mode of travel extremely secure.

In a very brief fraction of a second, a silver bubble forms around the mini-bus and then disappears. A blink is much longer, so some passengers miss the bubble completely. While the bubble exists, the mass within it, in this case, the mini-bus, its 130 passengers, and the incidental atmosphere, is removed from the "normal" universe. At the same time that it disappears from the prison, it appears in the military compound. The distance traveled does not matter; it takes no time to move across a parking lot, across a continent, or across galaxies. All transfers use no time, and no time passes within the bubble. The bubble can be made to transfer instantaneously back into the normal universe, or appear after delaying for any period of time. That is why the mini-bus looks new; when it is no longer needed, it is "parked" outside the normal universe until its next scheduled use, and does not age no matter how long it is "parked". The military stores much of its materiel outside the normal universe, keeping it beyond the reach of time, friend, and foe alike. The only requirement is keeping the destination point empty at the appointed time, because the transferred mass will "merge" with anything in its way when the bubble dissipates. Most military facilities have large open areas, marked out in a grid, used just for "sending" and "receiving" bubbles of materiel. These grids are kept meticulously free of objects, just in case a forgotten bubble makes an appearance.

The mini-bus appears in the military compound at its assigned coordinates. Its pad is surrounded by thick, blast-proof walls. Heavily armed soldiers run out and surround the vehicle. The two guards both give hand signals, and wait until the squad leader acknowledges them. Once the squad leader gives the all-clear signal, an officer and two medics walk towards the two guards, who stand up. The officer steps between the two guards, faces toward the prisoners, and addresses them in a strong, loud voice. "Welcome to the rest of your life. Your old life is over, so forget who or what you were. You are all condemned prisoners awaiting execution. I could shoot you all now, and that would be perfectly legal. You will be recycled when you no longer have any value to the government. You are here because someone in the government believes you can still do something useful. When your usefulness is over, so are you. So, do what you are told, follow the rules, be productive, and you will live longer, such as it is."

The officer turns towards the guards. "Who is the medical case that delayed you?"

"Here, sir. He is wearing a diaper and has an IV bag taped to his right shoulder. We know they're contraband, but we were told they're medically necessary."

"I'm sure they are. Medics, check him out, and dispose of that diaper and IV."

One medic opens the jumpsuit, and pulls the IV bag off of the prisoner's shoulder. She squeezes the last of the fluid out of the almost empty bag, and says "Good, it's empty, so there's no question about removing it. I'll take out the needle now." She pulls the jumpsuit down to expose the needle that is securely taped to the upper arm. She peels up a corner of the tape, and rips it free with one hand, pulling the needle out with it. With the other hand, she sprays the area around the wound, stopping the bleeding with a spray-on bandage.

The other medic waves an instrument, a comprehensive medsen, down the body of the prisoner, from head to toe. His percom rings, and displays a text from the instrument. "Damn, this prisoner has a stat longer than the daily sports report. He's ambulatory, but he'll need a full work-up at his destination, if they have budgeted that for him."

The officer pulls out his percom, pushes some buttons, and says "He's a high priority, so they'll find the money. Send his stat to his file, and let them do the work. We've got to get these prisoners out of here to clear this pad."

Turning to the guards, the officer commands "Unlock this prisoner first, and then do the rest in the usual order." He faces the prisoners again. "You will be unshackled. You will stand up, take your jumpsuit off, and lay it over your seat. Remain standing quietly in front of your seat until escorted. Do not try to say anything to anybody. You will be shot and recycled if you do not comply. Yes, we shoot first and ask questions later. No, we do not have the budget to patch you up after we shoot you, so into the recycler you will go, dead or alive."

The medics help the prisoner out of the jumpsuit and remove the diaper, putting it into the biohazard bag with the spent IV. They escort the naked prisoner off the mini-bus. His arms are numb from being handcuffed behind his back, but feeling is returning now that his arms are free. Again, he is glad he is first off, as he does not want to recognize anyone else. He is feeling better now, the best since his arrest. The medics take him down a long hallway, through double doors labeled "Do Not Enter", and into a room lined with racks of pressure suits. They find one his size, and help him into it. They lock a helmet with no window over his head. They put him into a very small room and close the door. The room is so small, and the fit is so tight, he cannot raise his arms. He feels the temperature rise quickly with a loud roar, feeling like he is standing in a furnace. The roar subsides, and the temperature drops quickly below freezing. The temperature rises again, and he feels light. He realizes he is weightless, and his helmet bumps into the ceiling of the room. His arms are now free to move around, as if the room suddenly became larger. Moments later, he feels hands pulling him along. He flails blindly, until the hands stop him. The hands work on his helmet, and remove it from his suit.

"Prisoner, you are now in a micro-gravity environment. Have you ever been in space before?"

"No, sir. May I ask where?" he asks the man with him, also in a full pressure suit, but with a clear helmet.

"This place is a military outpost. It has a number, but that won't mean anything to you. This is our main facility in this galaxy, on the other side of the cluster from our home galaxy. I see you have medical issues, so you are going to our medbay after you get out of this pressure suit and go through decontamination. You were bubbled out here after being deconed on the outside, now you have to be deconed on the inside.

"Was I time lagged?"

"No, you got here when you left your planet. Now get out of that suit. Others are waiting to use this receiving chamber."

The prisoner struggles out of the suit with the help of the other man, who stows the suit and helmet behind one panel, and then floats the prisoner against a wall.

"Try to calm yourself. Do not move any muscles, other than breathing. That's good. I will secure you to this surface, give you an injection to knock you out, and put you into decon." The other man pulls some straps over the prisoner to hold him against the wall panel, and then administers the injection. In his weakened condition, the prisoner quickly falls asleep. The other man detaches the panel from the wall, and floats the prisoner out of the chamber. He guides the panel with the prisoner through a slot into the decon unit, and shuts the door once the panel is completely inside. He floats across the chamber, puts another panel on the wall, exits through yet another panel, and gives the all-clear to decon the chamber to ready it for the next arriving bubble.