Here's Rejected Sci Fi for Summer 2014!

THE END OF THE FOUR CATEGORIES

Jack Bragen
(This material is copyrighted.)

Jared was a foreman mole and was annoyed when one of his subordinates stopped shoveling.  A hundred feet underground, communications conduit was being laid out as a part of the stadium under construction.  The work should go smoothly.
Jared warned his worker, who was a stout mole of sixteen years.
The worker responded, in proper submissive tones, "I've dug up something.  Someone maybe ought to see it." 
Jared turned his head.  The worker held up some type of skull.  It was instantly clear that this skull was not that of modern day--it did not resemble a head any of the Four Categories. For one thing, it was huge and must have once contained some massive brain.
The workers in the cavern had stopped their work and were transfixed.  
Jared warned:  "All of you get back to work, or face punishment." 
But the sight of the skull was too compelling.  Had our ancestors been smarter than we?  This one seemed to have a huge cranium. 
Abruptly, all five workers in the tunnel put down their shovels, in outright defiance of the foreman.  They took photographs and put the photos on microchips that they carried.  They were determined that no one was going to take this sighting away from them.  This was a rare act of true rebellion. 
The skull of an ancient man pointed to a time when presumably there was but one breed of people, all of whom had the same rights and the same opportunities.  The desire for this was supposedly bred out of the Moles and they were supposed to be devoted utterly to their work.  But this apparently was not so. 
Jared was infuriated.  But there was nothing he could do…
***
A bookstore/coffeehouse had been rebuilt after a thirty-thousand-year hiatus.  I frequented the place and I got a thrill from looking at the reconstructed paperback books.  Coffee had faded out of existence long ago.  However, a machine that could get imprints from the past had been invented, and one of the first things reconstituted was coffee beans. 
An adolescent Eliteman slaughtered a good song from ancient history on his out-of-tune guitar.  The Elite often had trouble finding something to do, and we Jacks would sometimes have to rescue them from some self induced folly.  For example, one of them had tried to start a tattoo parlor, and had given the first customer some serious puncture wounds due to total ignorance of tattooing. 
Society was in a phase of trying vainly to recapture what appeared to be past glory.  The Elite were spearheading the movement.  But I did enjoy the books and the coffee, anyway. 
I took a sip of hot coffee and turned a page in a book. The bad guitarist hit a note that hurt my teeth.  Across from me sat an Eliteman, Melbourne, in her thirties and executive director of the Stadium Project.  I was supposed to show them deference since I was a Jack, but I had always resented that rule. 
She said, "The Moles found something and I want you to go to the construction of the underground section and find out what it is." 
I replied, "Found something?  What, did they find a dinosaur fossil?" 
"It does look like remains--those of our pre differentiated ancestors.  You are not to tell anyone of this." 
I replied, "Why not?  Are we talking about social unrest?" 
Melbourne didn't answer the question and the implication was that it was a stupid question that didn't need to be answered. 
I sat and matched her silence, and I took another sip of coffee.  I wondered what the appeal of it had been, a bitter drink--and you could get the same effect in pill form.  Despite this thought, I continued to drink it and I didn't know why.  (There had been something else--it was called beer.  The bureaucrats had not yet approved it.) 
Melbourne said, "Someone may want to bring back a non-evolved undifferentiated specimen."  She paused.  "We are looking at a possibility of careless breeding coming back, and with it, the blurring of lines."  She looked around the coffee shop to assure herself that there weren't any eavesdroppers.  Plenty of technology existed to surveil people, but doing so was a rarity. 
I ventured, "People in all four categories could be upset if they think we have devolved." 
Melbourne was surprised.  "Who told you the remains were of a bigger-brained version?" 
"No one did," I replied.  "But I expected as much." 
Jacks had the second largest brains of the Four Categories, with Eliteman class having a small edge.  There were some Jacks who worked in science and whose work exceeded that, embarrassingly, of the Eliteman people.  Usually the Jacks weren't given proper credit for such work, and instead it went to the supervising Eliteman.  
"Be careful you do not rise above your station," warned Melbourne. 
I backpedaled, "Many apologies.  It wasn't intelligence but a lucky guess." 
"You may start on your assignment tomorrow morning," Melbourne said.  "I have already issued you electronic authorization to go to the site." 
***

The new technology, tentatively being called, "Remote Replication," allowed people to reverse the clock on matter.  This meant that you could take a deceased and defunct specimen and trace backward in time to obtain an earlier image, and it would become a revived young specimen.  Compared to standard replicators, which had been around a long time, these machines were fairly complex. 
These machines, which, despite their sophistication, had nonetheless become relatively easy to manufacture, were starting to cause a disruption in the status quo.  With the discovery of an ancient human skeleton, as well as the realization that it may have, in some ways, been superior, the Elitemen were in a panic and were pressuring the Gov's (the class of bureaucrats and law enforcement) to do something.  And I, merely a Jack, had been put in the middle of all of this.  My assignment, tacitly, was to eradicate evidence of the previous species as well as eliminate any specimens on which reversal could be done. 
***

The underground tunnel was dank, dark, cramped and odorous.  I reached for my flashlight and this resolved the lack of lighting.  I had to stand with bowed head, which was something the moles hadn't had to do, since they were characteristically short and squat.  Jared was in the tunnel also, and I had met him before. 
"I think this is about where the bones were found," Jared said.  He indicated a slightly more dug up spot where the construction crew had been digging.  I was carrying a small, long-handled shovel, and with this I dug a little bit in the claylike earth.  Pieces of bone were immediately uncovered.  I heard a gasp from Jared. 
I asked, "How far along are we at laying the communications conduit?" 
Jared responded, a bit of pride leaking into his voice, "Nearly done.  What remains is to attach one inline connection piece and cover the whole thing." 
I asked, "Can you do that right now, without the help of your workers?" 
"I suppose I could, but does that fix your problem?"
"I have a sack of old-style concrete sitting ready a couple of levels up.  I intend to seal off all of this," I replied. 
This was all well and good except for the fact that someone had been hiding nearby and had been watching us.  Now she made herself known, and she had a deadly weapon trained on us.  She was a Jack, and the weapon was quite illegal, but I am sure this was irrelevant. 
"Who do you think you are?" she said.  Under other circumstances the female Jack would have been quite appealing and I would have probably asked for her phone number. 
I immediately replied, "We're here to do a job.  The motives are innocent, and we are acting on behalf of the good of the people." 
"I think you're full of bull.  What is to stop me from killing you both where you stand?" 
"You haven't done so yet," I said.  "Why don't you forget about it and nobody needs to know that this happened?"  I had unobtrusively activated my phone, and the audio was headed for law enforcement. 
The woman Jack assailant pulled a tiny square box from her pocket but kept her weapon readied.  "See this?  Your phone signal is jammed.  Think you're smarter than me?" 
Sweat broke out on my forehead. 
"What do you want us to do?" Jared implored. 
"See that canvas sack over there?  You guys are going to collect artifacts from this tunnel and put them in that sack.  And you're going to collect a lot of them.  People deserve to know their history.  You do not have the authority to decide this." 
In my mind I agreed with her statement, and I felt ashamed for blithely accepting the assignment. 
"Ok, we'll do it.  There is no need to shoot us," I said. 
The assailant seemed to realize that I doubted her resolve to shoot us.  It wasn't the fact that it was a female who threatened us.  I just sensed something, perhaps I sensed that I wasn't dealing with someone willing to kill.  On the other hand, Jared seemed genuinely afraid.  He stopped down and began to dig with his fingers.  I got the canvas sack and put it next to Jared, and then I started digging tentatively with my shovel in another area. 
In the next thirty minutes, a number of bone fragments along with some other interesting items made their way into the canvas bag. (One item looked like what was left of a primitive attempt at an artificial heart valve; another item I recognized as a badly corroded printed circuit board left from early man's feeble attempts at electronics.)
I paused to wipe the sweat off my brow, and I looked in the direction of the female Jack who still held the weapon but wasn't pointing it. 
I ventured, "My name is Steve." 
Instead of reciprocating the name introduction, the Jack raised her weapon and took aim at me…
***

I came to consciousness and was totally disoriented, and found I was within some type of enclosure.  I tried to raise an arm and realized I was tied down.  I panicked and struggled against the restraints.  In the process of this I pulled a muscle, and this gave me agonizing pain. 
My enclosure opened up, and the woman who I remembered had threatened me with a gun while I had been on an assignment, untied me.  I was completely baffled, and I struggled my way out of the enclosure with no interference from my former assailant.  I looked at my surroundings.  I was probably within a bedroom of a house that had been refitted to function as a lab. 
The female Jack said, "My name is Marge." 
"What happened to me?" 
"I had to shoot and kill you because you were interfering with what needed to get done."  Marge paused.
"I don't feel very dead," I replied. 
"I turned back your clock. You're a remote replication." 
I had to ask the one hundred thousand dollar question:  "Did you bring back any viable specimens from the fossils?" 
"We have one."  I thought from how she sounded that there was a problem with the specimen.  
"It sounds problematic," I replied.
Marge said, "He is violent, and we do not understand any of his speech.  He is disoriented." 
"Where is he?" I asked.
"We had to set up a room for him.  He is in this building."   
"And what building would that be?  Where am I?"  It baffled me that I might be at a concealed location, considering the amount of electronic tracking that had been in existence for the past umpteen thousand years. 
"Do you really think I am foolish enough to answer that?  Do you know why you were brought back?"
I paused.  "You need me for something?" 
"We were under the impression you were a smart man." 
***

I viewed the specimen on a monitor screen.  It was a grotesque thing, it had a mop of "hair" on a large area of its head, its hands were improperly formed, it was overly muscled, and its cranium was huge.  I felt a knot forming in my stomach.  The technology had been used to create another of me at a  point before being shot in the tunnel.  My memory of the tunnel did not go beyond the moment just before being shot. 
The prehistoric creature paced back and forth in its room and was speaking in an incomprehensible primitive language, in very angry tones. Periodically it would pound its fists on the heavy, solid wood door to its room, and the door resounded with the impact.  This thing was strong.  
I said, "Maybe feeding this beast would make it more agreeable."  
Marge said, "That's too obvious!  I will prepare him something right away." 
"And you probably expect me to bring the food to this ogre." The knot in my stomach became worse.  "How do you expect me to do that without getting attacked?" 
Marge said, "You're a smart man.  Figure something out." 
Marge stepped outside of the room in which I had reappeared, and I followed her.  I was definitely in a house, and there were a couple of male Jacks in the adjacent room who had been standing guard.  They were armed with illegal weapons.  I realized they had been worried I might act uncivilized upon being brought back.  In which case, I suppose they would have shot me a second time around.
"I'd rather you stay in that room," said Marge.  One of the male Jacks made a gesture with his weapon.  I turned about and went back into the room.  I realized that I was a bit hungry, too.  And I also realized that I was a prisoner. 
Marge handed me a plate of food, of the standard, synthetic type.
I said, "Okay, show me to the door for the specimen.  I'll just try this now and hope for the best."  I was led down the hallway again to a room on which the door was a lot heavier and stronger, compared to the other doors in the house.  Marge pressed a button on the wall, and the door swung open.  I walked in, and the prehistoric man spun around and faced me.  I held up the tray of food.  The creature toned it down, said an unknown word in a more agreeable tone, and accepted the food tray.  I turned around, stepped out, and the door closed behind me.  "He has potential," I said. 
Marge appeared grateful.  She led me back to the first room I was in and gave me a plate of food.  I ate and then I realized that Marge sat across from me without speaking.  I detected a hint of admiration.  "A peaceful settlement of your situation in which no one is terminated or indicted is preferable," she said.
I replied, "I hope you won't kill me again and I will make myself useful.  If you release me, all I can do is to give you my word that I will not bring in law enforcement.  That may sound corny, but I will not go back on my word." 
I was lying.  Of course, if released, I would turn this Jack over to the bureaucrats for prosecution.  Anyone who plays god with me--in this case, someone guilty of killing, unkilling and kidnapping me--needed to be punished for that. 
"You did an excellent job of calming down that beast.  We have much more use for you." 
It took effort for me to conceal disgust.  These people, in complete disregard for the law and not caring for the good of anyone but themselves, had brought a being back to life that ought to get the rest in peace that it deserved.  And why were they doing this?  Did this amuse them?  I looked over my shoulder and noted that one of the two male Jacks with weapons stood nearby, just outside the doorway, and was keeping an eye on me. 
I ventured, "Do you have any Elitemen in your group?" 
I wanted to gather as much information as possible, but knew that I needed to do this as inconspicuously as possible. 
"I can't give you that information." 
Marge's tone warned me that I needed to be very careful of what questions I was asking and of how I behaved.  At this point, I doubted that she was fooled by the speech I had given about not breaking my word. 
Would they shoot me if they decided I wasn't useful enough?  I was not sure they wouldn't.  Certainly it was to their advantage to do so, since as a witness I could get them convicted of substantial violations.  I needed a plan.  I started to think while I finished the last morsels of my lunch, and I tried to conceal that the wheels in my head were turning.  Marge still sat across from me. 
"If you knew some of the things that I know, you might join us of your own free will," she said.  I looked at her and I realized she was an attractive Jack probably in her twenties.  It occurred to me that the boy-girl thing might be up with her, and I might be able to use that to my advantage. 
I said, "Okay, I'm listening." 
Marge proceeded to describe a great cataclysm in ancient history that very nearly wiped out the entire species of our predecessors.  She said to me that people had become too arrogant and believed there were no consequences to irresponsible actions.  There had been numerous incidents of warfare which were disputes over political power and dominance, and these military actions had wrecked the atmosphere. 
"And yet…" she paused.  "Our predecessors lived fuller, more authentic, more joyous lives.  They had mental faculties beyond what we had in present day, and these faculties coexisted with core brains that were primitive and that delivered the same sets of emotions as our reptilian ancestors which had existed a hundred million or more years previous."  She had a tear that ran down her cheek.  "It was these primitive emotions that spelled their downfall, but it is these same emotions that could potentially give us all a more worthwhile existence."  
I was done with my plate of food, and I looked around the table and spotted a fresh napkin, which I used to wipe the tears off her face.  It was a deliberately seductive move and one that I could get away with. 
"Marge…"  It took all the effort I had not to speak, and realized I could not hold my tongue.  "What gives you the right?"  I had intended to speak in an even tone, but my voice boomed with outrage.  "This poor creature--its life is over and it deserves to rest.  What gives you the right to bring him here?  There is no way he could adapt.  And he has had his time, and that time is over.  You are playing god." 

***
I was disoriented and in a fog, and I realized I was once again in an enclosure.  I was abruptly agitated and I wanted to scream.  I wanted to pound on the transparent material, but my wrists were tied down.  My eyes came into focus.  I saw three grotesque faces.  The faces were those of the primitives, like the individual I had seen.  They spoke among themselves and their voices were muffled by the barrier that enclosed me.  Their tone of voice told me they were probably commenting that I was grotesque. 
The enclosure opened, and I was relieved to breathe fresh air.  The closest of the three primitives immediately untied my wrists.  I was not about to get unruly--the primitives were physically far more muscled than I. 
I sat up.  One of the three put a gentle hand on my shoulder, while another measured my head (smaller than theirs) with calipers.  A blood sample was taken. 
"Many apologies," said a voice that I guessed was electronically translated.  "You are welcome to be our guest, or, if you would rather, we can administer euthanasia.  We hope your restoral is not excessively disturbing.  We brought you back because we are conducting a study…" 
I looked around the room.  It was bizarre and filled with equipment I couldn't recognize.  Apparently the primitives who had been brought back must have proliferated and must have replaced The Four Categories.  I had no clue as to how many years or perhaps centuries had passed. 
There was no sign of Marge, and I wondered if she had ordered me shot.  I wondered if the euthanasia offered to me might be for the best, since I probably would not be able to adapt to the world in which the people I once knew had all been replaced with primitives who had returned.