by Dan Davis
“We ain’t so far behind,” Cassidy said. “We’re packing some serious—”
“Quiet!” Zhukov snapped, spinning around so fast that he spilled his drink, glaring at Cassidy.
Captain Cassidy cut off what he was saying but Ram thought it was from surprise rather than respect, raising his eyebrows. It was like watching a mastiff growling up at a tiger.
Behind Zhukov, the screen flashed and whited out as the cameras were hit with a soup of particles and radiation that washed it out. When the whiteout cleared, the alien ship was there in the blackness of space, filling the screen. Ram froze, spoon halfway to his mouth.
It was the same design of ship recorded by the other missions. The alien vessel was in many ways remarkably similar to a human one. It was not bulky like the Victory, with a diameter almost equal to the length but it was long, wide and with a low profile. Engines at the rear in two clusters, he knew they would be glowing with a pale blue exhaust. It did not spin, as their own ship did and the surface was pale and bright, shining with reflected light from the distant Sun and stars.
“Why’s it so shiny?” Ram asked.
“Clearly, they are not interested in stealth,” Zhukov said, angry that he had missed the moment. “It must be a function required in the operation of the craft.”
“It's combat shielding,” Bediako said. “Protection against lasers and the like.”
“Ablative armor,” the Captain said, nodding his savaged block of a head. “Polishing increases efficiency. Precisely like a reentry heatshield.”
“We have physical shielding on the outside and inside of the Victory,” Dr. Fo muttered without even out looking up from his screen. “The main function of which is to protect the crew from solar and cosmic radiation. No doubt the reflective outer layer is a substance which performs such a function for the Wheelhunter species.”
“Perhaps they just like the way it looks,” Milena said, winking at Ram.
“Yeah, like the Orb,” Ram said. “Maybe that's the unifying aesthetic valued by every civilization in the galaxy. Everyone loves shiny things.”
Zhukov grunted, conveying contempt. “That vessel contains our enemies. One of the aliens on that ship will be the creature that you, Rama Seti, will fight to the death in a few hours. Need I remind you that the lifeforms onboard that ship are also prepared to invade and colonize our entire system, should we lose.”
“I hadn't forgotten,” Ram said, putting down his spoon and pushing his plate away. Training every day, all day, with violence in mind and body, made it difficult to resist throwing his plate at Zhukov’s head or jumping over the table to punch him in the face. He took a deep breath, getting his anger under control because he didn’t want to kill him.
“Keep eating,” Dr. Fo said.
“I'm not hungry.”
“That is irrelevant, you must—”
“I'll finish it later. You all need to get on with this meeting or get the fuck out of my quarters. I have real preparations to get on with.” He glanced at the Wheelhunter ship up on the screen.
The others bristled, to one extent or another, but they settled down at the meeting table without objecting.
“It has already begun,” Zhukov said. “Perhaps you can advise us of the security situation, Captain?”
“We are at our fullest level of alertness. Our weapons are charged and armed, from personal defense weapons for all relevant crew members trained in their operation, to our elite marines with the most advanced and deadly weapons yet developed by humanity. And of course, our ship to ship weapon systems are fully powered and armed and ready to destroy anything that makes a move to attack us.”
“Wonderful,” Zhukov said. “Thank you very much, Captain. It is a relief to know that you are all here ready to fight and die to protect this ship. Now—”
“Wait a sec,” Ram said, looking around him, confused. “What was that? That was a security briefing? What's going on?”
Zhukov's face reddened and Bediako smiled to himself. Dr. Fo looked down, as if embarrassed. The Captain stared straight ahead as if he was a statue.
“What am I missing, here?” Ram said.
“It does not concern you,” Zhukov said. “We may move on.”
“What is this?” Ram asked. “It’s like you’re programmed NPCs in Avar.”
Milena stared at Zhukov with a look loaded with meaning. After a moment he sighed and nodded at her.
“We're sorry, Ram,” she said. “I suppose there's no harm in explaining. You see, we are unsure of the Wheelhunter capabilities, as a species. Bear in mind that this is a completely alien animal, something with a biology that we barely understand, that could be capable of abilities that we cannot conceive of, or at least that no human or AI has hypothesized. Having said that, an early UNOP risk assessment highlighted a low probability, critical risk that the Wheeler is able to read your memories in some way. We don’t know how it might work, biologically, and some of us don’t believe it can be done but perhaps it can remotely scan your brain, biologically or take a sample from your body.”
“Like, if it takes a chunk of my brain back home with it at the end of the fight?”
“The concept is most unlikely,” Dr. Fo said. “But not biologically impossible.”
“And if the Wheeler was able to read your mind, what would it know about Victory?” Captain Cassidy said. “And what would it know about Earth?”
Ram sighed and leaned back in his chair. “That's why you hide stuff from me. That's why you never tell me how many Marines are on board. That’s why the ship’s design and systems are all redacted on the network. That's why you won't tell me what Earth's preparations for the invasion are. You think I’m a fucking security risk.”
Milena spread her hands. “Like I said, a very low probability but a critical level of impact.”
“I understand.”
The Captain spoke up. “We don’t know how it will work if the Sol System is awarded to the Wheelers. Imagine if the Orb grants permission for the alien vessel to open fire upon the Victory immediately upon your loss of the fight. We would be in for a fight for our lives.”
“I said I understand.”
“We have to prepare for every eventuality,” Milena said. “It does not reflect our beliefs about your chances for success.”
“Sure,” Ram said. “So, what does my final medical say, Doc?”
“That Rama Seti is a miracle of modern science improving on nature,” Dr. Fo said, clapping his hands together once. “Bearing in mind that he is not designed for longevity, I could not be happier with his current health and strength. What would have taken days to recover from, even in someone as fit and augmented as the Captain here, is fully healed in a matter of hours for our dear Rama. His mind and knowledge and experience are dreadfully valuable now and we have a final upload to perform first thing in the morning. One day, when the methods are perfected, we can bring him back in a new body or so I hope. What is more, we have made remarkable advances during this mission and I cannot wait to apply these methods to future subjects when we get home. Assuming we need future subjects, that is. Perhaps I will be designing drone soldiers to fight waves of Wheeler invaders. Sorry, Rama, I don’t mean that.”
“You are years away from getting back to Earth, Doctor,” Zhukov said, irritated. “Just be sure to submit all your data in time for it to be encrypted for our final communications with Project HQ.”
“Final?” Ram said.
“Another precaution, not a prediction,” Zhukov said. “We'll send a last communication back to Earth before the boarding team departs for the Orb Station. We'll send petabytes of data protected by unbreakable encryption. There will be all our final reports, our medical data, final fight data, science experiment results on the Wheeler vessel, Avar records, the last personal logs, every second of our recorded video and audio from every camera and microphone on the ship, all the drone swarm images and data recorded since the last upload. That way, none of the knowledge and experie
nce of this mission can be lost, should the Wheelers attack immediately.”
Ram hadn’t considered that his loss in the arena might mean the immediate destruction of the Victory. Not something he wanted on his mind. It felt more real than the almost abstract idea of the Sol System being invaded.
“Bediako,” Zhukov said, indicating the huge instructor. “What is Rama's combat and training status?”
“He has come a long way in the last few weeks. While I fundamentally disagree with your and Dr. Fo's policy of building his mass at the expense of agility and flexibility, his reaction time has continued to improve at a remarkable rate, shaving off nanoseconds every day. The outcomes of his sessions within Avar and with the IRL combat drone continue to improve, even as the parameters of the simulations are increased. I would never have expected him to reach this level by this point.”
He can’t even bring himself to say he thinks I have a chance.
Zhukov smiled, nodding patronizingly at Ram, as if he was proud and pleased. “Thank you, that more than anything, gives me great hope. And Milena? What is Subject Alpha's mental state?”
“It could not be better,” Milena said, even though she knew it was not true. “Most people would be unable to stand the emotional stress and yet Ram is coping well. As everyone else says, his performance continues to improve.”
Zhukov was about to carry on but Rama could not take it anymore.
“I need to say something,” Ram said.
“Of course,” Zhukov said, a benevolent smile on his face. The Wheelhunter ship filled the screen on the wall behind him.
Ram cleared his throat. “It’s obvious that you held this little update meeting for my benefit. You're all trying to be positive so that I keep my spirits up. And that's great, I appreciate it. But there’s no need. We all know that for all my improvements, I'm not as fast as the Wheelhunter is. I'm not as strong. I'm not as big. I still have no way to hurt it other than to try snapping its limbs one by one at the joints. And I'm not being negative about myself as an individual, I've seen the stats and I doubt Mael or Alina would have been able to achieve the required speeds and techniques either. I actually feel pretty great about myself. I was designed for this, genetically. I know that I am possibly the strongest, most physically powerful human in the Sol System, maybe more than anyone who ever lived, crazy as that sounds. I know what's at stake here. I'll give it my all. I don't doubt myself. But I'm certain, just as you all are, that when I go up against the alien that’s in that ship, I'm going to die.”
No one spoke for a while. Ram felt tired.
“Well,” Captain Cassidy said. “Just make sure to kill that fucker before you do, alright?”
Ram laughed. “Alright.” He yawned.
“You need to rest,” Milena said. “Everybody out,” she ordered and her boss and colleagues obeyed her, wishing him a good night’s sleep as they went. After a while, it was just him and Milena, alone, in the meeting room.
Ram nodded at the live image on the wall, the enormous Wheelhunter vessel, thousands of kilometers away but closing on the Orb Station Zero with every second. “It's funny to think that this will be my last ever chance to sleep. In the morning, I'll take my last ever shit. At least I've had my last ever bowl of rice and beans.”
Milena looked at him for a long moment. She carefully folded her screen away. “You must focus on positive thoughts, Rama. And you need sleep, eight hours at least, ideally twelve. I have to go.”
“These aren’t negative thoughts, Milena,” Ram said, standing and moving over to her slowly. “Just observations. It’s a strange thing to know your time is up. Countless millions of people must have felt like this. Guys before battle, you know, when they knew they were walking straight into machine guns the next day. Or people going in for surgery that they know is hopeless. So for me, in the morning I have the final medical, the final briefing and then we board the shuttle. This might be the last time I'll ever be alone with anyone. I don’t want you to go.”
Milena smiled up at him, placing a hand on his stomach. “You need sleep more than you need physical intimacy.”
“Hey, come on. You're only saying that because you've actually experienced physical intimacy before.”
Milena sighed. “You had intercourse with Alina multiple times and with Sifa also. I was there, in a way, helping you enjoy those moments on an emotional level.”
“You turned up my oxytocin but that doesn’t make it real. With them, it wasn't about intimacy. Even with Sifa. You know, the subjects all believed that the barracks had no cameras in it but it did, didn't it. You saw everything I said and did in there.”
“Of course.”
Ram sighed. “You know everything about me. You know my history, you've seen me at my worst and you know what I'm feeling and you know what decisions I'll make even before I make them. You know me better than anyone. Better than anyone else in my whole life. But I never know exactly what you're thinking. I don't know what you really think of me. Forgetting all this, all the project, the mission, all that bullshit.”
“I do know you. Yes, better than anyone ever has. Better even than you know yourself, and that is not hyperbole, that is a fact. And I always told you that this would not be an equal relationship. But, Ram, you do know me. We've spent hundreds of hours together. Do you really think all our conversations could be scripted? How could I maintain an act for so long? What about when we make each other laugh, does that feel real to you?”
“Sure. Yes.” Ram said it and he thought that he probably meant it.
She unfolded her screen again and tapped away at it.
“What are you doing?”
“Turning off the cameras and microphones in your bedroom. Come on, we’ll have to be quick. Tomorrow, you fight.”
Ram followed her out of the meeting room, glancing one last time at the Wheelhunter ship, burning into orbit around the Orb.
31. BOARDING
COME.
The Orb beamed the boarding instruction at the Victory. They were prepared, with the shuttle inside the shuttle bay fueled, crewed and raring to go.
“Boarding Team shuttle ready to depart,” Captain Cassidy said, from his seat inside the shuttle crew compartment. As the officer responsible for crew and mission security, the Marine Captain was in overall command of the boarding mission. The reply from the pilot was sent only to him but the shuttle immediately began to shake as the engines were fired up and the air inside the bay, essentially a huge airlock, was violently sucked back into the ship’s air systems.
Positioned in the center of the rows of seats, Ram reclined in a reentry chair designed for eight feet tall subjects. Even then, he was bigger than the seat had been designed for and the strapping cut into his shoulders and chest. The passenger section of the shuttle held the support crew that would be joining him on the Orb. There was a lot of them. Twelve Marines in three squads plus Cassidy in full combat gear and a range of weapons that they almost certainly would not need. Still, Ram was glad to have them backing him up. Their easy confidence made him feel calm. Their demeanor reminded him of the other elite Avar gamers in his co-op when they waited in a pre-game lobby. A relaxation that came from certainty in your own abilities and a familiarity and trust in your teammates. And he knew the Marines had run the operation in Avar a hundred times so they were drilled to perfection.
As well as the Marines there were eighteen crew members plus equipment crammed into the crew compartment. The cargo hold in the shuttle’s belly was so packed with their gear that some of them carried extra stuff on their laps.
Milena seated herself beside him. He was happy to have her there but he had been confused about one thing ever since he had woken up that morning.
“Milena,” he whispered. “Last night, did we…? You know. In my bedroom?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten?”
“It’s the strangest thing, I remember heading toward my room with you but then there’s nothing. Did you drug me?”
She closed her eyes. “You had your mind scanned and uploaded this morning, do you remember your medical schedule? Sounds like the process interfered with your memory storage going right back to last night.”
“I can’t believe this. That’s the worst thing I ever heard.” He looked down at her. “How did I do? Was it good? I’m pretty sure there’s no way we could have, you know, physically performed a full docking maneuver. Did you, like, achieve your key objectives?”
“You’re an idiot.” She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “But tell you what, you beat the alien and we can make new memories.”
“Oh man,” Ram said. “I thought I was motivated to succeed before this moment but I think I just found a whole new gear.”
Dr. Fo sat behind Ram, despite Director Zhukov pressuring the doctor into staying on the ship. He was too valuable an asset to humanity to risk being trapped on the Orb should anything go wrong. Dr. Fo had laughed him off.
“Rama Seti is my patient,” Dr. Fo said. “And, perhaps, if I may be so bold, my friend. I wish to be there to oversee the final preparations which will ensure his victory and also so that I may immediately perform any necessary medical procedures upon his corpse.”
Ram was glad the doctor would be there. Although he was a medical genius, his skills would most likely not be required. And it was probably because almost everyone else who had liked him was now dead or six billion kilometers away but Ram was starting to think of the man as a friend.
The shuttle shook with growing intensity and then the vibration lessened, replaced with a steady hum as the engines settled into a cruise state.
“We are clear of the shuttle bay,” Cassidy announced through internal comms. “Our pilot is stabilizing our spin and we are heading for Orb Station.”
Bediako sat beside him in the other huge reentry chair. There was no final training assistance that the old guy could advise on but he was there as a backup. If Rama was rejected by the Orb, for some reason, then Bediako could take his place. No one wanted that to happen, not even Ram.
