Through the Singularity

by L. Frank Wadsworth

  Zaleria doesn't know what to do. She feels… something, but doesn't know how to describe it. A distant reflection of a feeling? She finds herself drawn to him, but afraid. Afraid to go through all that pain again. She decides to change the subject to keep this morning from turning morose. “I don't have those memories anymore, but I would enjoy talking about it again, later. I need to think on what you have told me, reflect. Right now, I think we should take advantage of our free time to practice what we, well I, came out here to practice.” She rummages through her backpack and pulls out a sidearm. She holds it up across her chest and grins. “Here, let me show you my routine.”

  He feels her reach out to the embedded symbiots throughout the range. Targets start popping up at random, some innocent, some bad guys—the latter of which she dispatches with rapid precision and deadly accuracy. She starts weaving through different shooting stations behind various barricades, obstacles, and obstructions, finishing with a one-handed cartwheel followed by three rapid targets. When she is done, she comes back and hands him the pistol.

  “Did you watch carefully?”

  “Yes”

  “Then over to you,” she says as she hands him the pistol.

  Achi mentally checks the pistols settings. She was running it on a coherent beam, but low power. He reaches out to the mini-machines and has them reset and randomize the course. She startles before remembering he shares her symbiots. He catches her eye and gives her his best smirk.

  He blazes through the course, slightly faster than Zaleria. He has far more experience with weapons, having used them in combat on many occasions. Zaleria notes that he switches firing hands at a couple points in the course to maximize cover. At the end, he does a running front flip instead of a cartwheel and punches neat holes through two of the three final targets, before adjusting the weapon on the fly to incinerate the last target. “Oops, guess that one was particularly flammable.”

  Zaleria laughs. “Well, I'm glad to see my symbiots are treating you well. You are in excellent shape, and very skilled.”

  Achi nods. “As are you. I can't help but notice you've put on some muscle mass and are far more toned. We'd call you 'ripped' back on Earth. You look great. Of course, you galanen always do.”

  “Achi, how are you preventing my symbiots from syncing up with me?”

  “Well, it isn't easy, because they really, really want to. But they know this is important. I've asked them to ignore all attempts to form a local connection from any symbiots that do not use a couple additional layers of encryption I've had them add. The symbiots in your unitary do not know what the ones in mine have implemented. This keeps Beltare from reading my thoughts; she does try by the way, a different trick every day. It will also hopefully keep Gravis' shell from getting in. However, they are your symbiots, and if you wished to, you could still command them, just by speaking to me. They would be compelled to answer.”

  Zaleria thinks about this for a minute. “They still have all my memories from the time I lost, don't they?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you've told me the important details, haven't you?”

  “Yes, the important stuff,” Achi responds. “There are many other memories. The time you tried to meld with your essence. My convincing you to ask your mother over while you were wearing nothing but one of my old shirts in my bedroom. Her trying to hide her connection with Earth. But you know all this from other sources, do you not? We did have a poker night, though, and you developed a love for chocolate mousse.”

  “Chocolate moose?” She echoes incorrectly, not remembering.

  Achi grins. “That just means you get to experience it all over again for the first time. Uh, hopefully you'll try better to restrain yourself this time.”

  “Did I over-indulge?”

  “Well, that was right after you came back from the dead for the first time, only to find your mind occupied by a smelly cave man. It was comfort food,” Achi says.

  Zaleria laughs. “Yes, I guess you have that memory as well.” They grow quiet, beginning to really enjoy each other’s company. She looks east and notices it is getting quite light. “We should probably get back. Thanks for coming with me and filling in some of the gaps in my memories.”

  “Thanks for having me. I've missed you, and…damn, if it isn't messed up.”

  She gently grabs his forearm and squeezes it. “I know. There is a part of me that just wants to open myself up to everything I knew, but another part that is terrified. Regardless, you should know I'm not quite the same person I was when we first met. I've learned many troubling things since then, and it has changed me.” She sighs, trying to deal with inexplicable feelings like she has known him forever, even though she can't remember any of it now.

  She looks at him, calculating, thinking. “Why don’t we make this a morning routine? I think you'll inspire me to gain even greater proficiency, and I would also like to have someone I can…spar? with. You are proficient at unarmed combat, yes?” She asks.

  Achi looks at her, trying to figure out her motives. She seems earnest, as she usually is. “Alright, sure. I think that would be great. And yes, I am proficient in hand-to-hand combat. I’d be happy to show you what you are able to learn.”

  She stiffens a bit, eyes narrowing. “Oh, do you doubt my abilities?”

  “No, but at some point, you have to be willing to really do someone harm to advance. I don't know if you have the heart to really hurt someone.”

  Zaleria nods her head, then suddenly grabs him under each armpit, lifts him off the ground and shoves him against an obstacle with a low growl. “This thing utterly destroyed my unitary and my life's work. It is a living mockery of my father. It made me question everything I'd ever done in my life, and I have no memory of why. It made me very, very angry.” She says with her face inches from his own, eyes locked. “I told you I've changed, and most of that has been because of this anger.” She holds him there for a few seconds, slows her breathing, and gently puts him down, before noticing the pistol he is holding pressed against her belly—pointed up through her diaphragm at her heart.

  “Challenge accepted,” he says, calmly. “Lesson one, disarm your opponent before engaging in unarmed combat.” He smiles, before reversing the pistol and handing it to her.

  She slowly grins and takes the pistol back. “I look forward to learning from you,” she says formally, with a slight tilt of the head.

  “As do I, from you,” Achi says, nodding his head in return to complete the formal agreement. He reaches up and takes her chin gently, hesitantly in his hand, rubbing it with his thumb, “You have changed. In some ways, that is unfortunate. Your innocence was so refreshing in a fallen world. In another way, well, let me just say I find the slight edginess appealing.” He lets his hand drop but notices that she was leaning in to it, enjoying the contact. “I'm sorry; I'm being forward.”

  She nods. “Yes, you are. But I suppose that is better than being backward. Let's get back to the others. I'm sure some of them are probably awake now.” She stashes the pistol in her backpack and straps it in place. “Race you back?” she says as she darts off at a blistering pace. Achi laughs and joins in pursuit, striving to keep up with her longer strides.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Para Bellum

  Achi returns refreshed from the shower, a naturalized waterfall artificially warmed within the cavernous space under the root ball of one of the telitorri trees that make up her main house. As usual, he let Zaleria shower first while he fixed a simple breakfast for both of them. She finishes eating while he showers, and together, they will serve the others.

  They've taken to getting up before dawn each day to run, and on alternate days, complete the obstacle course and combat range or spar. While they are nearly equal on the combat range, Zaleria has much to learn about the martial arts. Galanen society is very peaceful by nature, shunning violence in all its forms, except when necessary when tending to garden worlds. Even then, their symbiotic enhancements are us
ually enough to muddle through most sticky situations they might find themselves in, as Zaleria aptly proved with the kel'taite during her first mission. Achi, however, has fought many battles over the long millennia and has learned hard lessons on a wide range of battlefields, as well as in city slums, refugee camps, medieval castles, and modern urban expanses. Zaleria is eager to learn all he can teach her and is making progress, Achi thinks to himself, unconsciously rubbing a bruise on his arm she'd managed to give him. She is definitely far more aggressive than he remembers.

  If the others think their actions odd, they don't share those feelings. Achi relishes the way they are growing close again, absent her having to put up with his past, emotional baggage. And Zaleria seems to share these feelings. They work well together, preparing the fruit heavy breakfasts enjoyed by most galan, and serving their elders. And this simple act helps provide structure to each day, ensuring a timely start for the serious business at hand—figuring out how to find, fix, and destroy the heart of Sklávoi Ashtoreth, the shell of Gravis.

  Once the day officially starts, they all break into their different groups until they rejoin for the evening meal that Traemuña and Toshi usually prepare together. Although Clive will also often help out, to introduce a little je ne sais quoi into the fare, he once said. They all appreciate his exuberant experimentation with their food, although he is mindful of their dietary restrictions. He's brought most of his spice collection, as well as an assortment of hot peppers, just in case.

  But overall, they are making good progress, Achi muses. They share their results after the evening meal, comparing notes, and commenting on what the others have done. It has been great. The central planning group has grown close, and even Beltare has developed a level of respect for Achi, even if she doesn't like him. And to be honest, she has been demonstrating keen insights. Having come to grips with her own shortcomings, she is now able to more objectively see how her flaws, and those of others, can be exploited by the shell. She has made several important contributions to shoring up security.

  But today marks an important turning point; the first group of galanen 'marines' will arrive. Achi and Clive have been working on a lesson plan, starting with fundamental skills and precepts of warfare, then moving into guerrilla warfare and small unit tactics. Explaining how the humans they are likely to face will act is fairly straight-forward. But trying to devise tactics optimized for galanen will require some creativity and input from this first group of volunteers. The only ones Achi knows are Trègar and his squad. It'll be interesting to see what they think of their prior meeting. The others he knows from Zaleria's memories, which vary in detail from galan to galan.

  Fandtha comes by. “I want to thank you for your help and insights. Your perspective has, uh, been exceptionally important in helping secure the galanen, and by extension, humanity.”

  Achi nods his head, in recognition of the compliment. “I have learned much from you and regret that I must now move on to other duties. I hope we still find time for a game or two of poker; you may end up being the galanen grand champion.”

  Fandtha smiles. “I particularly thank you for teaching me that game. It creates a remarkable, uh, counterpoint for a culture steeped in science and sharing to, ah, embrace the cultural opposites of chance and deception. It is also a useful mirror to look upon one’s, er, alter ego, so to speak. I have learned much from you and hope we can continue to collaborate long after matters on Earth are settled.”

  Beltare sees the two of them conversing and, making a rational assumption, joins their group. “Achi, I have learned much from you. Some of it very painful, but in truth, all of it valuable.”

  Achi nods to her, formally. “As I have from you. You have demonstrated keen insights that pierce uncertainty and confusion. I regret the pain I have caused you and hope someday that we may be fully reconciled, one to another.”

  Beltare nods. “A good start will be to teach Trègar and the rest all you can.”

  Achi looks at her. “You care for him, don't you?”

  She sighs, her green eyes flaring in the morning light “I see how you and Zaleria get on, and while I don't for a moment understand her fascination with you, I at least have the good grace to not say anything to either of you, or anyone else for that matter. It is your affair.”

  Achi smiles. “Then I will be sure to impart to him the importance of publicly sporting with one who's heart is so true.”

  She swivels towards him angrily but stops herself and takes a calming breath. She then does the unexpected, and laughs. “You know, I don't think I would mind if you did. Perhaps your example will inspire him before my patience runs out. If so, I would count your debt paid, if not forgotten.”

  Achi performs a shallow, but formal bow. “As you have spoken, so let it be done.”

  She turns to watch the waverider carrying her unrequited love and says softly, so only Achi can hear, “But I swear, I will roast every hair off your carcass, along with any other dangling parts, if you ever tell him I said so.”

  “Clive is rubbing off on you,” Achi replies, softly. “He has that effect on people. But while I may sound glib, I do take affairs of the heart seriously, no matter what you may believe.”

  “Actually, that appears to be your sole redeeming quality,” she says coolly. Achi appears ready to say something, but she preempts him. “Just leave it at that.”

  He nods his farewell leaving her to her conflicted emotions. She allowed him to see a glimpse of her true feelings, which he considers a sign of how distressed she is at this moment. She seems to care for Trègar, and he knows from Zaleria's memories that Beltare has quietly pursued him for a few thousand years.

  Trègar, who is about Achi's height and weight, is stout for a galanen. He is very dark skinned, with tightly curled black hair and piercing golden brown eyes. He had been bonded with another when he first came to Earth 12,000 years ago, but something happened, and they went their separate ways a couple thousand years later. Usually, a couple will not bond until late in life, and only after they are sure they are a solid pairing. Once a pair shares at that level, they rarely dissolve. But it does happen. After a respectable period, Beltare appears to have made her intentions known, but he's been reticent. If he were human, Achi would say he was on the rebound. Perhaps seeing Zaleria and his interactions has made her realize how lonely she is. If so, that is unfortunate.

  For if there is one thing in this universe Achi understands, it is loneliness. This can explain a lot, he thinks, as she watches the waverider approaching with cold longing. Despite their pronounced difference in age, he can't help but feel for her. She has learned so little in life about the things she most longs for. Who knows, perhaps this experience will change the status quo, either bringing them together or helping her move on.

  He notices Jevelle watching him, seemingly reading his mind. “What is it with you two? You are always fighting; yet neither of you ever seems to tire of it. And if I'm not mistaken, you care for each other, in your own ways.”

  “I think in some respects, we are kindred spirits,” Achi confesses.

  “Really? I don't see that,” Jevelle says, puzzled, wondering if Achi is 'pulling her leg.'

  He laughs. “Then let me share my perspective. Beltare does what she thinks she must to get things done. She doesn't hesitate to hurt those dear to her if she feels the need; I have seen this with my own eyes and through the eyes of others who did not recognize it.” He turns to look at Beltare watching Trègar, and the others disembarking the ship, unloading their limited gear. “And she is very lonely, despite being surrounded by galanen. That, I can certainly relate to.”

  “You continue to surprise me,” Jevelle says. “Just when I begin to think I have you figured out, I find there is more to you than I suspected.”

  “Oh, come now. I'm just a simple man, with simple needs. Game to hunt and a fire to cook it over, and after that, a bed to crawl into on a cold winter’s night with a good woman to keep me warm.”

/>   “Doesn't sound like such a bad life, although my version would substitute gardening and a male,” she impishly quips. “Does this mean you're going to take our new charges camping?”

  “Now, now, that would be telling. The first part of basic training will be to strip down individualism and ego and ensure they understand just how much they have to learn—and how much they must depend on each other. Then we build them back up again, one layer at a time. There are many ways to do this, and I've experienced nearly all of them, but galanen are far different than most military recruits who are only 20-30 years old. Nevertheless, I think I've come up with a unique solution that should serve the purpose.”

  “That seems awfully elaborate for simple skill transference,” Jevelle suggests.

  “You might think so, but they need to be prepared, mentally, for what they might face. Let me give you an example. What would you say is the most horrifying experience you have ever had?”

  She pauses a moment, thinking. “I have been involved in two cases where galan were outcast. What they did, while each different, was horrifying. It is one thing to watch baser races commit acts of violence against each other—the galanen went through similar growing pains once, you know—but seeing galan who were once friends and colleagues fall from grace, that has a special horror to it. I was afraid Earth would provide us with yet another example.”

  Achi nods. “It may yet, but I think that will pale to what Gravis' shell could do. As an example, what would have happened if I kept Beltare locked up for several years, going in every few days to 'disable' her comms unit, keeping her alive, but preventing her from ever contacting the collective?”

  Jevelle thinks for a moment. “We would have assumed her destroyed after about a year, when her symbiots should have ceased trying to revive her unitary. Then the collective would inform her essence to create a new one. But with Beltare still alive, it would have been a shell.”

  “And how long would it take the galanen to figure that out? And what would happen if Beltare, perhaps being driven mad by years of torture was released, in such a way as to make her look like a shell?”