by Karl Beecher
Zeddex pointed to a central portion of the brain, the area where his disease and the wisps of Predecessor energy should be. "There's nothing there. There's no mysterious energy, no disease, not even a trace of there ever having been a disease.
"You have a perfectly normal, healthy brain."
The nurse peered at Colin, looking puzzled. "I'm sorry," he said. "A what?"
Colin had spent the morning bounding around his room, barely able to contain his glee. The news of his miraculous cure still hadn't properly sunk in, but he was nonetheless on cloud nine. He had no idea what had happened. A natural, spontaneous recovery? Some kind of Predecessor intervention? He didn't know, but he refused to let that or anything else get him down.
However, this nurse was coming close to succeeding.
Bubbling with positive energy, he had left his room and walked down a couple of corridors before finding a nurse he recognised. Colin wanted to feel the sun on his skin; he wanted to breathe fresh air and bask in his surroundings, even if he had to do it in his hospital gown. He wanted…
"A stroll," repeated Colin.
The nurse looked back, confused. "A stroll?"
"Yes," persisted Colin. "You know, I want to go for a walk."
"To where?"
"Nowhere in particular. Just around."
The nurse, a middle-aged man who looked as welcoming and warm-hearted as a gargoyle, still struggled. "We have treadmills in the gym," he suggested, "but if you wish to engage in sport, I will have to verify with your doctor if that is permitted."
"No," said Colin. "Not sport. Just a stroll. A casual walk."
The man's face contorted as though he were trying to solve differential equations in his head. "You wish to walk, but neither toward a destination nor with a purpose?"
This seemed to be a startlingly illogical notion in the Collective.
"Yes," urged Colin, feeling his happiness give way to impatience. "I want to go outside and get some fresh air."
The nurse peered around. "But the internal air is already fresh. It is constantly filtered by purifiers."
Colin sighed and looked away.
As he did, he recognised the two people approaching from down the corridor. "Never mind," he told the nurse, who went on with his business.
Falco and Jonn Shuffla approached Colin, dressed in tidier versions of their desert garbs.
"Greetings, Colin Douglass twenty-eight Crescent Gardens," said Falco agreeably.
"I say, greetings, Falco," replied Colin. "What brings you two here?"
"A shuttle," he replied.
"No, I mean, why are you two here?"
"I was attending to some business in the city," explained Falco. "It occurred to me that it would be comradely to visit you in person and see how your recovery is progressing. I hope we don't disturb you?"
"Not at all, glad to see you. We may as well go back to my room. You can say hello to Tyresa and Commander Leet, I left them in there."
The three began a leisurely stroll down the busy corridor.
"I thought it would also be instructive for the boy to see a hospital," remarked Falco, pointing at Jonn trailing behind. "He's never visited one before."
"Oh," said Colin. He turned to the lad. "Are you enjoying what you're seeing?"
Jonn shrugged. "Satisfactory. I wanted to see the morgue, but Falco says that isn't allowed."
"Oh, dear," said Colin. "What a pity."
Strange boy.
He turned back to Falco. "I hope all this business didn't cause you too much trouble. I'm truly sorry we imposed on you so much."
"No apology necessary," replied the old software engineer-turned-farmer. "Very little material damage caused. In fact, the whole affair helped me somewhat. It spurred me to face up to some personal issues. I should have done so long ago."
Colin had become vaguely aware of Falco's role in his rescue, as well as the man's former working relationship with Lowcuzt Null.
"You mean Lowcuzt?"
"Yes," said Falco. "Thankfully, my mind is now at peace where he is concerned. He no longer perplexes me, I neither laud nor despise him anymore. He is part of my past, and there he will remain."
"What will happen to him?"
"Unknown. I understand authorities are assessing whether he's mentally competent to stand trial, given his claims of ‘hearing voices' that directed him to perform his crimes. If he is judged fit, it will certainly be the strangest trial in Collective history."
They arrived at the door to Colin's room. There, Falco noticed Jonn was fidgeting.
"What's the matter, boy?" he asked.
"I need to urinate," replied Jonn.
"No problem," said Colin. "I've got my own private bathroom in there." He opened the door and gestured inside his empty room, noticing that Tyresa and Robbi had left. He pointed to the bathroom door. "Over there. Help yourself."
Jonn thanked him and darted inside.
Falco turned to Colin. "Speaking of mental competence, how are you? When last I saw you, you too were channelling voices. Do you hear them still?"
Colin wondered how to answer. On more than one occasion that morning, he'd called out Klablath's name in his mind but heard nothing back. With the mysterious rift energy gone from his brain, there was no reason to suspect Klablath was still there. And there was an almost imperceptible feeling that something was different in his mind. It felt like the inside of a house after a flatmate has moved out.
"Oh that?" he said at last. "No, no. The voices have gone. I'm healthy again."
"Most gratifying to hear. I was—"
Falco broke off as muffled voices came from inside the room, startled and angry. A moment later, Jonn appeared in the doorway. Something about him looked wrong, unsettling, sinister even. For a moment, Colin couldn't place what it was. Then he noticed it.
The lad was smiling.
"We should probably leave," he told his uncle.
"What, why?"
Just then, Tyresa appeared in the doorway in rumpled clothes. She tucked her t-shirt into her trousers before wrestling her mussed hair into a ponytail.
"Oh!" said Tyresa, trying to act surprised. "Hello, Falco. Fancy meeting you here. Look, Commander, it's Falco Shuffla."
Robbi appeared quietly at the doorway, looking contrite. Her face was flushed, and she seemed slightly breathless. She too appeared to be adjusting her clothing. "Greetings, Falco Shuffla Eighty-Eight," she said, avoiding everybody's glances.
Falco replied like a disappointed parent. "Greetings indeed, Robbi Leet Five-One-Two."
Colin broke the ensuing awkward silence and gestured towards his room. "Erm…perhaps we'd better all go inside?"
"No," blurted Robbi. "Actually, I was just about to come…I mean go…leave. It's time for me to leave."
"That's right," said Tyresa with a fake laugh. "Perhaps we can accompany you two gentlemen out?"
"No, thank you," replied Falco. "The boy requires a toilet."
Jonn nodded vigorously. Whatever he'd seen, it seemed to be changing his outlook on life.
"Very well," said Tyresa. "Commander, I'll escort you to the exit."
Embarrassed farewells followed, with Falco and Jonn wandering off in one direction and Tyresa and Robbi in the other. Colin did the decent thing and waited until he was back in his room before breaking into uproarious laughter.
As his laughter subsided, Colin's mind returned to Falco's question about hearing voices. There were still no answers. Was Klablath really gone? If he was, had he perhaps wiped the disease out as a parting gift? That didn't seem in keeping with the Predecessors' iron law against interference. Then again, Klablath's behaviour at their last encounter had been admittedly unusual. He'd seemed a little less rigid, a little more…well, human.
And then there was that parting remark about empathy.
As the questions continued to spin around his head, Colin felt his hand began to tremble involuntarily. He tried to steady it, but the trembling became more intense.
Oh no. What fresh hell was this?
But then he noticed something odd about the way it moved: alternating small jerks and little circles, fingers stiff. A wild notion entered his mind. Could it be…?
He grabbed Tyresa's slate she had left on the bedside table and powered it up. A blank page appeared ready to be drawn on. He took a deep breath and pressed his jiggling finger against the screen.
Colin's eyes widened in amazement as he saw something being sketched out. He was right!
A few moments later, his hand stopped suddenly. He held it up. Steady as a rock and under his complete control once more. He looked at the slate, barely able to believe what he saw on the screen.
It was a message.
GREETINGS FROM THE ETHEREAL REALM
COULDN'T RESIST LEAVING WITHOUT MAKING REPAIRS. I'LL GET INTO TROUBLE FOR THAT, SO DON'T LET IT BE FOR NOTHING.
ENJOY THE HUNT, K.
Tyresa made it to the hospital lobby before she let loose. She just couldn't repress it anymore. In the middle of the corridor, in full view of hundreds of staff and patients hurrying to and fro, she burst into laughter.
Robbi glared at her. "You judge this to be humorous?" She glanced around anxiously at the people. "Will you please compose yourself?"
Tyresa pulled herself together and away wiped a tear. Robbi needn't have worried. All the other Transhackers were in their own little worlds, too aloof to care about some strange outsider guffawing.
"Sorry," she said. "I had to laugh. Otherwise, I'd go crazy."
"Now remember," began Robbi. Her manner was stiff and formal again, a reflexive reaction to being in public surrounded by her compatriots. "An escort will meet you here at ten hundred hours and bring you to the inquiry. I cannot be certain, but I am hopeful the committee will be lenient after your role in the apprehension of Lowcuzt Null."
"Plus, I got my trump card," nodded Tyresa. "I know where the Solo artifact is buried."
"Indeed. Promise to cooperate on its recovery, and I'm sure you'll quickly transform from a prisoner of the Collective into one of its most important guests." She pointed at Tyresa's wrist. "And don't forget that."
Beneath the flesh was a tiny, surgically-inserted surveillance tag. It monitored Tyresa's position and alerted the authorities if she strayed out of a defined zone, in this case, the hospital.
"I know, I know," said Tyresa. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. Unlike you."
Cruiser_89 was shipping out the day after tomorrow for its next assignment, and Commander Leet would be aboard. After that, who knew when Tyresa might see her again?
Tyresa pointed behind herself at nothing in particular. "Things got a bit crazy there a few moments ago."
"Yes," replied Robbi.
"I suppose we should make clear here and now that nothing like that will ever happen again."
"Quite right."
"Just too many…complications." Tyresa looked at the floor. She didn't want to say goodbye. "Will we see each other again?"
"Yes. At the inquiry tomorrow."
"No, not staring at each other across a courtroom. You know what I mean."
Robbi took a deep breath. "I'm a Transhumanist. That means I'm conditioned to think rationally. And so, I would ask what would be the purpose in trying to further our…association? What do we honestly believe will happen as a result? We are both ambitious and take our duties seriously, but our respective duties take us in different directions. We serve different masters, as you might say. We would have to face the consequences if duty cast us against each other once more."
In her heart, Tyresa would rather have said fuck the consequences. In a galaxy that hadn't already gone crazy long ago, they could have both hopped onto a starship and flown off wherever they wanted, indulging in whatever their hearts desired. But rationality told her Robbi was right. Fact was, so long as they were on different sides, duty got in the way. Simple as that. Better to take a leaf out of the Commander's book and listen to logic.
Sometimes, rationality could be a real bitch.
Tyresa nodded gently, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in her stomach. "I guess so. But hey, look at the bright side. We can't all keep this belligerence up forever. Surely, one day, we'll all make friends. It's an exciting universe. Anything can happen."
It was a lot to hope for, the ending of an interminable cold war, but you had to have hope. Love conquers all, as the old phrase went.
A smile appeared on Robbi's face, probably the broadest she dared to display in public. "I very much doubt we've seen the last of each other, Tyresa Jak."
43
"How did you manage that?" exclaimed Colin as he rode the elevator with Tyresa.
It was unbelievable. The Transhackers had dropped their charges against her, and she was free to go.
Tyresa looked back at him. "I was just my usual charming self at the inquiry."
Colin eyed her sceptically. "No, really, how did you do it?"
"Fuck you, I can be charming when I want to be."
"I look forward to seeing that someday."
"Although," Tyresa continued, "I suppose they were also swayed by the fact that I alone know the coordinates of the Solo IV beacon." She gave him a wily smile. "I got a sweet deal out of them, Colin. I get to study the Alcentor site—or what's left of it at least—but I also get to join the team that excavates Solo IV. The Transhackers will get to keep everything, naturally, but when I think of what that intact artifact will yield…" She rubbed her hands together and purred. "And, of course, since Solo III will be in the neighbourhood, we can finally get down to some proper investigation of it."
Colin's face lit up. "Earth?"
Tyresa wagged a finger at him. "Ah-ah! Remember that word's forbidden."
"Oh, sorry."
"We'll finally get to the bottom of it all. We'll uncover that planet's story if we have to tear up the whole surface."
"Erm, yes, speaking of that," mused Colin, thoughtful of the history Klablath had laid out. "I've been rather developing a theory of my own in that direction."
She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Your theory? Oh, I'm so looking forward to hearing that," she said sarcastically. "It would be good to laugh after the few days I've just had."
Colin grinned to himself. She'd soon change her tune once she'd heard it.
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors whooshed open. Colin stepped onto the bridge of the SS Turtle. It felt like an age since he'd last seen the place, and a warm, gratifying sensation went through him. The ship wasn't exactly homely, but it felt curiously like home.
He turned and saw an old friend.
"Ade!" he exclaimed. "You son of a gun, you're all better!"
The android turned and bowed gracefully. "I am, sir. Good as new."
"Incredible. So they didn't hit a vital organ then?"
"Indeed not, sir. I am grateful that the marksmanship of one's average henchman is so poor."
Tyresa, meanwhile, stood by the front console, running her hands over the controls. "Good to be back," she grinned.
She turned and looked at her shipmates expectantly.
Colin stared back. "What now?"
"Now?" replied Tyresa. "We get to work. Solo might not be far away, but there's a lot to be done." She looked at Colin warmly. "I'd be honoured if you would join me and give me all the help you can with the work ahead."
He smiled back. "Where do I sit?"
"Wherever you like," she replied. "Why not take a seat by the map table?"
Colin eased into the chair beside the holographic map. Maybe, he thought, just maybe he could get used to this.
Meanwhile, Tyresa and Ade busied themselves with the launch. Equipment whirred into life, screens flickered on, buttons and lights illuminated, and the engines began to purr.
The Turtle was ready.
"Well, shipmates," announced Tyresa. "Destiny awaits." She placed her hands on the launch controls. "Let's see what—"
"Oh, before we go," said Colin,
getting back to his feet. "I just need to pop to the loo first."
The End
Notes
Chapter 9
1 Leading Ade to marvel that, even after all this time, his database of swear words still continued to expand.
Chapter 10
1 Book of Necessary Cataclysms, chapter 3, verse 9
Chapter 12
1 It wasn’t unusual for some people to have private space yachts which featured scan-blocking compartments, but it was generally advisable to steer clear of such people.
Chapter 13
1 Astronomers couldn’t agree whether Solo possessed eight planets or whether the strange, outermost body counted as a ninth. As a compromise they counted it as a half-planet, and, on account of its weird orbit, nicknamed it ‘Goofy.’
Chapter 17
1 Every new prisoner was automatically inducted into the Inmates’ Union, which operated similarly to other associations except its members found getting permission to participate in street marches difficult.
2 Someone had to clean up the back rows.
3 Everyone in the Collective got a number tagged onto the end of their name to render it unique. Ambiguities were intolerable in the Collective.
4 ‘Realsex: Real Citizens Say No!’ was a regular feature in Collective schools.
Chapter 25
1 Hence the old Collective slogan: “Knowledge is slavery. Ignorance is strength.”
2 Department of Internal Security. All those seconds saved in abbreviation really add up, you know.
WHAT’S NEXT IN THE SERIES?
Interstellar Caveman
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