Polynesian Disbursement

By Jason E. Maddux

“Welcome back to the afternoon session,” Conference Chair Toke Tuilaepa greeted, his floral print button-down shirt and suit jacket straining to contain a barrel chest and broad shoulders. “The first panel after lunch is always a challenge, but Explaining the Pacific Islander Wanderlust is not one to miss.” He turned to the two men seated to his left, then spun back to the audience, flashing a grin. His mouthful of bright white teeth gleamed in stark contrast to his rich brown skin.

“Dr. Marcus Strazinski is an assistant professor of human evolutionary genetics at the University of California-Berkeley. Dr. Herbert Buccard is a post-doctorate fellow at MIT, where he studies the conductivity of organic materials.”

Strazinski sat straighter at the mention of his name. Buccard stared at the auditorium’s rear wall, squinting into the spotlights. His pasty skin grew even paler than Strazinski’s. When Buccard didn’t even blink at his introduction, Strazinski slid an elbow into his ribs. Buccard winced and glared daggers. He made to rise, but Strazinski grabbed his arm, pulling him back into the chair.

“Our esteemed panelists co-authored a paper due out next month in the Journal of Genetic Anthropology,” Tuilaepa said. “From what I’ve heard, the article’s contents are under wraps, except they contain a major revelation impacting all Pacific Islanders. Lucky for us, Drs. Strazinski and Buccard have promised to fill us in here for the first time.” Tuilaepa leaned closer to the microphone, cocking an eyebrow at the panelists. “Doctors, welcome, or as we say here, welina.” He stepped back, joining the applause from the other attendees.

Strazinski strode to the podium, notes in hand. Buccard remained seated, slowly shaking his head. After raising the microphone, Strazinski folded his hands on the podium and looked out at the audience. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you, Chairman Tuilaepa, for that introduction. It’s an honor for Dr. Buccard and me to be here at the twelfth annual International Conference of Polynesian History and Culture.

“About ten years ago, I began a major project of sequencing the DNA of as many Pacific Island populations as possible. Or at least as many as funding would allow.” Strazinski looked up from his notes, smirking at the audience. A few of the several hundred attendees chuckled.

“I was hoping to use evolutionary genetics to explain why ancient Polynesians felt the desire, or rather the need, to trek thousands of miles across open oceans to colonize far-flung specks of land. I didn’t understand what I found, so I went looking for someone who might. That’s where Dr. Buccard comes in.”

Strazinski waved a hand to include Buccard, but his co-panelist’s only movements were his legs. Those bounced like he needed a nicotine fix.

Strazinski cleared his throat and shuffled his notes. “The strange but identical markers I found repeated in every Pacific Islander’s DNA were like nothing I had ever seen before. Dr. Buccard confirmed these markers were substantially similar to the structure found in highly conductive metals, such as silver, copper, and gold.”

Several low murmurs escaped the crowd.

“We believe these DNA markers,” Strazinski said, “will allow the hosts’ bodies to draw radiant energy from a nearby source. That energy then can be transmitted to another location for storage.”

The murmurs grew in volume until they transformed into a chorus of scoffing, followed by laughter.

Strazinski chuckled along with the group. “I didn’t believe it at first either, and it still didn’t explain the Pacific Islander propensity for sea exploration and far-flung settlement.”

Buccard buried his head in his hands.

“That was until we were visited”—Strazinski waved to the right of the stage—“by Krspla here.”

An orange blob oozed from behind the curtain at the back of the dais. As tall as Strazinski, it looked like a rejected ghost from a Pac-Man game. Around the curved top of its body, it wore something resembling a headband with a box attached to it.

The audience erupted into shouts and screams. Most of the crowd pushed toward the exits but found them locked. A few heartier souls—or those simply in shock—remained seated, mouths agape like hungry fish.

“You see,” Strazinski said, raising his voice above the din, “The Skrpula Hegemony altered the DNA of the ancestral Polynesian population—the Lapita culture—before they left Southeast Asia to settle the Pacific Islands. Krspla’s race uses the energy from planets’ cores to power their civilization. Turns out, humans—with a few tweaks—are ideal conduits to extract that energy from Earth’s core.”

Two limbs protruded from each side of the orange blob.

Paying no notice, Strazinski continued. “The Skrpula Hegemony also instilled—at the DNA level—in those ancient Polynesians a program urging them to seek out new lands. In other words, the Pacific Island populations had no choice. It gives new meaning to the term ‘intelligent design.’”

Strazinski shuffled his papers, forming them into a neat stack. “Since Krspla’s ancestors were continuing to other planets, they needed their ‘conductors’ to spread out over Earth’s surface as much as possible to maximize the energy withdrawal when the time came.”

Buccard sobbed quietly in his chair while Strazinski reached under the podium to retrieve a bottle of water. After taking a sip, he scanned the few remaining audience members still listening. “And that’s where the story ends—really all of your stories end—because Krspla is here to fill its civilization’s batteries.” He offered a weak smile. “Buccard and I have been promised safe passage in exchange for keeping our findings quiet—until now.”

Krspla’s limbs flapped back and forth several times before both slapped the box. The majority of attendees—including Chairman Tuilaepa in the first row—stiffened, then jerked upright. Yellow light radiated from the floor, flowing through each body until erupting from every orifice on their heads and continuing into the ceiling and beyond.

The box adorning Krspla emitted its first sounds. “The Skrpula Hegemony thanks you for your assistance.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jason E. Maddux is an aviation attorney, who writes speculative fiction as a creative outlet each night once his two daughters are in bed.  His short stories have appeared in various magazines and anthologies, including Planetside, Night Terrors Vols. 6 & 14, and The Trouble with Time Travel.  After spending his youth moving around the southeastern United States, he now resides in what some call Occupied Virginia.

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