Through the Singularity

by L. Frank Wadsworth

  He lets the housekeeper know he's taking some vacation and will be back in a month and, grabbing his car, heads off. He meets one of Clive's new crop of recruits at an out of the way gas station, and they swap cars. Nils heads to South Carolina, and the new guy takes off for the BMWA.

  It takes him a few days to get there, in addition to half a day making absolutely certain he isn't being followed. By now, his face looks a little different; his cheek bones, brows, eyes, and chin are slightly out of normal “Nils” proportions. It is ironic that he'll still look mostly familiar, especially to people like Cheryn who don't know him very well. But Clive will spot the differences. Nonetheless, it is more than enough to fool facial recognition programs. Hopefully, he doesn't look like any suspected serial killer. That could be bad, although given the number of people he has killed over his incredibly long lifetime, it wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. He takes a deep breath and blows it through his lips. He doesn't need to go down the highway of regret right now.

  He finally stops at Clive's new house, opens the garage door with help from his little friends, and parks in the garage. Once the garage door shuts, the entry door from the house to the garage opens, spilling light into the dark space. Clive stands there silhouetted in the doorway.

  “Well, if it isn't the blind leading the blind. How are you?” He smiles, comes over and gives him a warm embrace. “It's good to see you, even if it's only for a short stay.”

  “Well, actually it isn't. I intend to move my operations out here, and we have about a month to lay the ground work. I can explain the vacation 'ruse,' if necessary, as a strategy to keep my business competitors out of the know. I've been siphoning off a lot of DIS's best talent and think we've got enough to take it to the next level. I don't want DIS to know this yet.”

  Clive frowns a bit. “Well, thanks for sharing, I guess.”

  Nils laughs out loud. “Don't get all pissy with me; I just figured all that out on the drive down here. The timing may be a bit premature, but it'll work. And I need a change of scenery, with you closer to me. Enough about me; how are you doing? You're looking pretty fit. Been working out more?“ Nils inquires, noticing that Clive has put on about another 10 kilos of muscle since the last time he'd seen him.

  Clive laughs a little “You might say that. You did ask me to make sure Cheryn could better defend herself. She is getting much better. Almost as good as me, almost.”

  “Coming from you, that is quite an admission. So I might actually break a sweat if I sparred with her now?” Nils asks a little mischievously.

  “Humph, you might. I expect between the two of us, we could give you a run for your money.”

  Nils laughs. “That might actually be worth doing my friend. We may all need the practice.”

  Clive picks up on his change in mood. “What are you thinking of doing?”

  “Not now. Let's get inside, have some food, and catch up. We can talk in the morning, privately.” He whispers the last word as he notices Cheryn's profile in the doorway.

  “Clive, let the poor man in the house, won't you?” she says slightly exasperated.

  Nils looks at Clive and raises his eyebrow, asking silently whether he's told her of their relationship. He shakes his head slightly as he turns to head inside. Nils follows, but stops just inside the door to give Cheryn a hug. “Wow, look at you! You look great.” And she does. She has dropped weight, toned up, and put on a lot of muscle. “What the heck has Clive been feeding you?” he asks.

  She smiles, sweetly. “Pretty much the same bullshit you do. But at least he works me hard when we train. He's good, but slowing down a bit I think. Or I'm speeding up—one of those.” She winks at Clive. “But at least he trains with me frequently, unlike some fly-by-night dudes I know.”

  “It’s good to see you again, too, but you won't be saying that in a month. I've decided to move my headquarters out here. You'll be seeing a lot more of me, I think.” He notices the look of surprise and worry cross her face. “Don't worry, we'll talk about all that tomorrow. Tonight, let's just relax and enjoy each other's company.”

  Cheryn gets that weird feeling about him again, like he is so much older than he seems, ancient in fact, but sincere. As much as she is reluctant to believe him, he does seem to simply enjoy their company. He is lonely, she suddenly realizes. She looks at the way he interacts with Clive, realizing he might be the only person Nils shares everything with. And Clive acts like Nils is his mentor. How odd. She shakes her head. She won't be able to figure it out tonight, so it’s best to just go with the flow and see what secrets she might be able to pry out of him this time.

  After an enjoyable evening eating freshly grilled burgers and brats, chased down with some of the best local craft beers, and catching up on what each of them has been doing, Cheryn bids them good night and drives back to her place. They'll meet up in the morning at a warehouse Nils' company has bought.

  After she leaves, Clive looks over at Nils. “OK, out with it. What is on your mind?

  He sighs. “We need to find your father.”

  Clive bristles a little. “Why?” is all he says.

  “I believe he is part of the organization.”

  “I don't want to find him. He abandoned me. He abandoned Cheryn. Besides, how are you gonna find him anyway? The ol’ bastard is probably dead.”

  Nils shakes his head. “I don't think so, but I'm afraid we're going to need some help.”

  “Yeah, from who? Cheryn? I don't think she knows anything more than she has already told us.”

  Nils shakes his head. “The galanen. I’m afraid we lack the resources to go against this threat, and I think we’re about at the point where we’ve learned as much as we can. I think it is enough that they can make an actual difference, if we can get them to work with us.”

  Clive stops and gets very quiet. “You sure you want to do that? Zaleria seemed really conflicted when she was with us. You sure you want to, you know, bring her back into things?”

  Nils shakes his head. “No, and I'm not suggesting we reach out for her, as much as I would like to. No, there is another. One whom I think will help, but who will also be more unpredictable. The one who delivered the med kit. She wants to help humanity be successful, and Zaleria trusted her almost as much as her mother. I think she'd be the one to try and reach out to. Of course, she also might want to remove me from the Earth, if she were to find out about me. Probably best to not let that happen.”

  Clive can see where this is leading. “So you want me to make contact with her,” he states. “I've seen this movie before and know how it ends. Should I wear a red shirt, just to make it official?”

  Nils smiles. “In a manner of speaking. But as far as clothes, I was thinking a well-tailored black suit and white shirt, complete with sunglasses. You'd be stunning, especially with all the extra muscle you've put on.”

  Clive just shakes his head, laughing. He tosses back the last of his beer, throws the empty in the recycling bin, and heads off to bed. “We can talk about that tomorrow.”

  The next morning they show up at the warehouse, each driving there separately, and arriving at a different time. Clive is first and opens it up. Cheryn shows up next, clearly curious about what Nils is up to.

  “Good morning Clive. I hope you two didn't stay up too late. I never would have suspected you two were that close,” she says, with mock astonishment.

  “Good morning to you too, Cheryn. He grows on you after a while, or hadn't you noticed? It's like some kind of fungus you just can't shake. Hope you brought some workout gear; I think he wants to kick our asses this morning,” he says, gesturing to the various mats, exercise apparatus, and a large padded area of flooring. “I think between the two of us, we might actually get him breathing hard.”

  She looks around and wonders what the hell is up. “Is he crazy?”

  Clive shakes his head. “You'll have to judge that for yourself. I think he's ready to start seriously digging into Sklávoi Ashtoreth.” Clive think
s for a minute, takes a deep breath, lets it out.

  He's holding something back, Cheryn realizes. He's been working closely with her for the last six months. Making sure she got established in her new identity—Stacey Smith—making sure she found a good house in a nice neighborhood, making sure she found a good job, and helping her get back into shape. She'd never been with anyone this long before, but like Nils, he didn't ask anything from her other than that she apply herself. He wasn't interested in her physically, that was for sure. He'd made that plain one night after they'd finished sparring, which always made her horny. He was okay with a hug now and then, but that was about it. She wondered if he and Nils were a couple, but he just laughed when she'd mentioned it once. He claimed to be a 'confident heterosexual,' whatever the heck that was supposed to mean. Maybe he was under orders not to handle the goods? She didn't know. It was just one of the oddities of what her life had become. Clive seemed to be reading her thoughts; it is eerie the way he can kind of do that.

  “Look, before he gets here, there is something you should know. He feels he needs to find your father.” He takes a deep breath. “Our father.”

  She knots up her eyebrows. What is it he is trying to say?

  “We're related. I'm your half-brother. Nils screened your DNA to try and follow up on your past. He already had mine on hand and noticed similarities. Did a full comparison; we have the same father.”

  She doesn’t know what to say. It’s preposterous. “What the hell! Are you sure? Is he sure? Why did you keep this from me, and why are you telling me now?”

  “Because he thought you should know. I left the decision up to him whether to tell you. I didn't feel it was my place,” Nils says as he walks slowly into the warehouse, his hands in his pockets. “So now you know. From a technical perspective, there is no doubt. And as I told Clive, I somehow expect the person that sent you after Rolle knew who Clive was to you. I try not to be too judgmental, but that is just sick.”

  She is stunned and doesn't know what to say. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it. She sees Nils shoot Clive a look that seems to say, “You had to do this now buddy?” And Clive only shrugs his shoulders. She turns her back on both of them. They are still keeping secrets from her. She feels tears on her cheeks. Why is she crying? She doesn't know. She feels hands on her shoulders. Nils.

  “Not the way I would have done things, but this is awkward for Clive too, you know. You okay?”

  “Hell, I don't know. I don't even know what I'm feeling. I'm angry that you're both keeping things from me, but at the same time relieved you finally told me. How can I trust you when you won't trust me?”

  Nils nods his head, understanding her feelings. “The truth can be overwhelming, and with truth comes the burden it brings. You have a chance at a normal life now, so don't think everything we do is about trust.”

  Cheryn spins around and pushes him back. “And you are still a silver-tonged liar. Stop! Don't say it! I know, 'You haven't lied to me.' But the truths you're holding back are worse than lying to me. Much worse.”

  Nils stands his ground. “I suspect your father is part of Sklávoi Ashtoreth. We need to find a way to track him down. As we do, the danger to you two increases significantly. Clive is committed to seeing this through. You do not need to, and I respect you enough to not ask you. And because of that, I don't want to burden you with all I know, nor leave that knowledge vulnerable if despite my every precaution you fall into Sklávoi Ashtoreth's hands. It won't help you and can only harm you. I wanted to make sure you were aware we were going to make this move, and to take extra precautions. We’ve done all we can for you. Beyond that, all I would like to ask of you is to tell me everything you can remember about the commune outside of Philadelphia. That will be our starting point. You both trace your origins to that vicinity, so your father has to be tied to it in some way. I cannot ask you to go further than that.”

  “Oh? But you will or guilt me into it. You're very, very manipulative in your own way. You'll need an army if you go against them.”

  “Then I'll find an army, if I need to. But you've given me what I've asked for, and I've repaid you as I said I would. Beyond that, I've grown fond of you and would like to see you just live the life you want to live. But you will need to define what that is, Cheryn. I don't want to do it for you.”

  “Is that why you asked me here this morning?”

  “Pretty much. And to offer to get you two up to the next level in your training. Clive's been getting a bit cocky without our normal training regimen. I need to remind him how much he still has to learn. And I would still like to see you better able to defend yourself.”

  “Then let’s get to it. I want to get this over with, so I can just get on with my life. Whatever the hell that is. We can talk when we're too tired to fight.”

  ∞∞∞

  Beltare is stymied. How can two people be so hard to find? She doesn't even know if Cheryn Douglass is alive or dead. If she is alive, someone has done a great job keeping her out of sight. But when she tries to find Nils Hagen, he is everywhere—and nowhere. Every lead they've tracked down has met with a dead end. Oh, people have seen him, met with him, rented rooms for him, had meetings with him, but they can't actually find him. Just places where he's been. Leave it to Zaleria to give her an impossible task. That seems to have become her specialty. At least she is sharing whatever she's got inside her head now, which is an improvement. She is still mad at her, but she thinks this experience may, in the long term, be good for her, so long as they don't lose humanity because of her stupidity. That would be nearly unforgivable…

  Trègar contacts her, obviously perplexed and concerned. “Beltare. There is a…message for you.”

  “What do you mean a 'message?' If someone wants to contact me, they can just reach out.”

  “Not when the person is a human.”

  Beltare feels an eerie tingle spread up her arms and spine, as the fine hairs covering these regions involuntarily stand up. “A human…? What is going on?”

  “A human named 'Clive' has used the old satellite transponder link we set up almost 20 years ago to ask to speak with you. He claims he knew Rolle Andersson, and Zaleria. He mentioned her specifically by name.”

  Beltare pulls everything the collective has on associates of Rolle Andersson named Clive. He was his security chief, and is his heir. Interesting. Fired shortly after his death. Hasn't really been seen or heard from since. Until now.

  “I will talk with him. You are to tell no one about this. No one. Segregate and seal any record of this contact into my private keeping.”

  He pauses, probably to execute her orders. This is almost becoming routine for him, she realizes. “It is done. I will pass him through. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Trègar is a good galan who always does what he is told, and he maintains discretion. He's been her second for a long time, and they enjoy a close partnership. She'd entertained perhaps more with him at one time, but he is not willing to go that far. He had been in a long-term pairing when he'd first come to Earth over 12,000 years ago, but it had not ended well. Such things are rare in galanen society, but not unheard of. He'd politely told her he'd think about it after matters on Earth are settled, but until then he just wants to focus on their work. And that is enough, for now.

  “Hello, is this Beltare?”

  “Yes,” she says before coughing a little. She rarely uses speech to communicate. She moistens her lips and tries again. “Yes, I am Beltare. And you are?”

  “I am Clive Robinson. I was Rolle Andersson's chief of security prior to his death. And I am his son. Well, adopted son. We didn't hold many secrets from each other. I know about Zaleria and your visit to Earth while she was staying with us. They were killed by Sklávoi Ashtoreth, and I've been following every lead I can to find out what this organization is—and its structure. I assume the galanen have been doing the same?”

  Beltare is stunned. Is this what Zaleria was up
to with Rolle? Is this the person that's been hiding Cheryn? She miraculously healed right about the time Rolle and Zaleria were killed, and Zaleria now suspects the healing kit may have been for her… Her mind races with the possibilities. “Yes, we are very interested in neutralizing this organization. And we also seek a couple other people we think may have relevant information about it.”

  Clive laughs. “Yeah, I can bet who they might be. I think we can help each other. I have information that I do not believe you have access to, but given recent history, I would only want to share that with someone I can trust. Zaleria trusted you when she had need, and I trusted her. But someone gave her away, so I hope you understand the need to be discreet.”

  Beltare is taken aback. This man is practically lecturing her about security, perhaps blaming the galanen for what happened. Of course that is what they've been exploring themselves, but still, the audacity. She takes a deep breath and exhales before speaking. “We do not know what happened. Zaleria was unable to relay what she'd learned during her mission. We share your concerns and have taken measures to enhance security. You will deal only with me. Where do you want to meet?”

  Now it's Clive's turn to be silent for a moment. He is hesitant. “I want you to go to the city of Atlanta, Georgia. If you come by ship like last time, please land far away and take human conveyances to get there. When you get to Atlanta, check into a hotel and call this number.” He gives her the number. “I'll make final arrangements then. I apologize in advance, but it'll be inconvenient getting to the final location. Please do not remain in contact with your people once you leave Atlanta, and that includes 'beacon mode,' as Zaleria and Rolle were concerned it was being traced somehow, or by someone.”

  Zaleria was apparently up to quite a bit with Rolle, Beltare thinks to herself, although this could explain why she didn’t use her beacon during several of those now missing weeks. She isn't sure what to make of this offer, but whoever is on the other end of this line knows far too much about the galanen. He might be who he says, or he could be a rogue galan trying to lure her into some kind of trap. She remembers 'Clive' is still waiting for an answer. “You're right. I don't like this setup, but I understand the need for caution. Can you be ready in exactly two weeks?” He agrees and terminates the contact.