“Unless a greater good could be had from their death,” Donald said.
Dr. Beck shook his head. He felt Donald would agree with him if he could only make him understand.
“Would you die for your children?” he said.
“What are you talking about?” Donald said.
“If their lives were on the line and you could stop it from happening by sacrificing yourself, would you do it?” Dr. Beck said.
“Of course I would,” Donald said. “But you didn’t sacrifice your life. It’s always someone else’s.”
“Then would you sacrifice one person’s life who you didn’t know to save your kids?” Dr. Beck said.
Donald blinked, considering the notion.
“Don’t change the subject,” he said.
“I’m not,” Dr. Beck said. “This is very much on-topic. Or how about one unknown person’s life to save a thousand? Or a million? How much is that one life worth to you? How low would that number have to be before you said no? Sacrifices were made—regrettable ones. I didn’t want any of them to die. The problem with being in a position of power is you have to be the one to make those decisions. No one else can. I did those things for the greater good. I know that isn’t a popular opinion but it’s true. Someone always has to make the decisions that no one else can.”
“You think you saved us all,” Donald said with a sneer.
“Yes, I do,” Dr. Beck said. “Can you say I didn’t?”
73.
LUCY WAS in a strange and distant land. The earth was purple, the sea green. And no matter where she looked she couldn’t see the Cat in the Hat anywhere. When it rained, liquid methane fell from the brown clouds. The events that took place on this planet weren’t altogether different than anything she might see on Earth. The same but with a little twist.
Standing back from the shore were a pair of armoured Bugs, plasma rifles at the ready. Between them was a hole that led deep underground. It reminded her of the entrance to the Station commune, and like that place, it quickly blocked out the light.
Lucy floated toward the hole, drawn into it like she were on a zip line, her journey already pre-planned. All she had to do was sit back and enjoy it. But she didn’t enjoy it. It was dark, so dark it was impossible to make anything out.
Then, in the distance, a glowing light similar to something old miners used when digging for gold. They hung on rusty hooks hammered into the hard rock-like surface. Deeper Lucy went, far deeper than anything the Station had. And it was getting warm.
The light accumulated around a single point ahead. Half a dozen Bugs stood before a section of the cave wall, staring in wonder at what was drawn there.
The image on the wall, indistinct and out of focus with the flickering lights, showed an ancient cave painting. Of Bugs and their distant past. One of the Bugs, who had a bearing that Lucy could only describe as regal, stepped up to that wall and placed an antennae to the painting.
The image showed the Bugs on their knees before another creature, one cloaked in swirling robes. The Bugs had come in contact with another alien race long ago and had been inferior to them in some way. Lucy, unused to the features of the Bugs, couldn’t identify what emotion she had on her face.
The regal Bug paused, turned, and then looked directly at Lucy as if she could see her.
Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. It felt somehow wrong that the Bug could sense her there, could see her. The Bug did not scream or cry out, but waved an antennae through the air, that would have touched the smooth curve of Lucy’s cheek. It felt very much like a welcome.
Lucy opened her eyes.
“Lucy?” Jamie said. “Are you all right?”
It took a moment for Lucy to gather herself and remember where she was. She relaxed. She was aboard the Mothership and they had successfully defeated the Bugs.
“You were having a nightmare,” Jamie said.
“No, not a nightmare,” Lucy said. “It was something. . . different. Something else.”
“A dream?” Jamie said. “Seemed like you weren’t enjoying it much.”
“It was. . .”
A vision? A premonition? Something real, she thought, on a planet she had never seen before. She shook her head. Madness.
“It’s nothing,” Lucy said.
She sat up.
“Donny brought us some food,” Jamie said. “I ate mine. You slept for so long that I ate some of yours too. Sorry. Shall I get more?”
“No,” Lucy said. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat something, Luce,” Jamie said.
“I’m all right,” Lucy said, massaging her temples.
“How about some toast?” Jamie said. “You always liked—”
“I said I’m all right!” Lucy snapped.
Jamie blinked and looked away. She’d never shouted at him like that before. Lucy didn’t like to see that look on his face. He was only worried about her.
Lucy put a hand to her forehead. She had a headache, the pain just beginning to drill into her temples.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m a bit stressed, that’s all.”
“It’s okay,” Jamie said. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure.”
“I shouldn’t lose my temper,” Lucy said. “I’m really sorry. I’d love some toast if you have some.”
“Yes,” Jamie said with a hesitant smile. “We’ve got jam, peanut butter or jelly.”
“I’ll have some of that combination Fatty discovered at the City,” Lucy said.
Jamie grinned. “That’s my favourite too.”
As he put it together, Lucy brought her legs over the side of her bed. Jamie eyed her. He was going to suggest she stay in bed and rest but didn’t want to get snapped at again.
“How long was I asleep?” Lucy said.
“About twelve hours,” Jamie said.
“That long?” Lucy said. “I must have been tired. Did anything happen?”
“Dad called,” Jamie said. “He managed to figure out how to work a phone. Seems like Dr. Beck hasn’t been completely honest with him.”
“There’s a switch,” Lucy said.
“I know, right?” Jamie said. “No matter what happens, it seems the bad people are always okay.”
Lucy wasn’t sure she would describe him as bad. Ruthless, for sure. He’d do—and had done—things most wouldn’t to get what he wanted. Did that make him evil? Or simply more determined than anyone else? Words had never been her strong point.
“I guess we’ll be heading back to Earth soon,” Jamie said.
There was no denying his obvious excitement at getting back to terra firma. Strange, but Lucy didn’t share his excitement. This ship was the place she was meant to be, where she belonged. The place where she had made a difference.
She’d helped wipe out the Bugs, stopped them from destroying them and their planet. And yet, something about her dream niggled her. What did it mean?
The Bugs had a past. They had cave paintings like humans did. They had a history they looked back on, a history that had propelled them forward in their search for something more, something better.
And she had destroyed them all.
Lucy finished off the slice of toast and licked her fingers.
“Another one?” Jamie said.
“No,” Lucy said. “I need to check on something.”
“Want me to come?” Jamie said.
“Always,” Lucy said with a smile.
74.
LUCY WASHED, dressed, and returned to the deck. She didn’t really know what she was doing there. Or why. But she had a feeling, deep in her gut, that it was the right place to be.
The platform and accompanying glass case stood cocked and ready to be used again. Lucy could too easily recall the pain she’d felt when those needles had punctured her body and driven deep into her bones, connecting with her own nervous system. It was unlike any pain she’d ever felt before.
Her short stint as Mother felt more like a dream than her
actual dream had. Seeing that glass tube now, with the platform and the hole in the floor that produced the hideous metal snake brought powerful vying emotions. About what she was—the fact she had been designed to exist inside that bubble—about the things she’d done to eradicate an entire alien species to defend her planet.
She wasn’t sure if she could ever totally forgive Dr. Beck and his team for what they’d done. They’d created fifty versions of her, all of them failures. Except her. She was the one success they’d had. She never understood why she was the only one to emerge where the others had failed. What was so different about her?
Through the window, she could see the battlefield. There was still a ton of material floating around out there. It would take years for the salvaging craft to clear it all.
“Computer,” Lucy said. “Status report.”
“Main systems are online,” Computer said. “Hull integrity at seventy-eight percent. Shields at eighty-nine percent. Drone restoration at thirty percent. Engines at ninety-eight percent. Gun turrets at eighty-four percent.”
“How much longer before we’re patched up?” Lucy said.
“For main systems, approximately eight hours,” Computer said. “Drone restoration will take considerably longer. Around forty-eight hours.”
The drones had clearly taken a beating. None of this was the reason she’d come here. It was something else. . . But what? Something about the past, something about the Bugs and where they came from. . .
“Computer,” Lucy said. “How is the Bug research coming along? Any interesting discoveries yet?”
“That is a negative,” Computer said. “Much of the technology was damaged or destroyed in the battle. So far, we have found their level of technology broadly matches our own.”
“Anything else unusual?” Lucy said.
It was difficult to know what she was looking for. She only knew she would recognize it when she saw it.
“We have discovered some Bug computer systems still intact,” Computer said. “We’re bringing it in now.”
“Can we see it?” Lucy said.
“Affirmative,” Computer said.
“Wait,” Jamie said. “We shouldn’t start probing around in a Bug computer system. It might have a virus and affect us.”
“Computer,” Lucy said. “Ensure the Bug system is entirely separate from our own with no possible way for it to connect.”
“The computer system will be digitally quarantined,” Computer said. “There’s no way for the Bug technology to hack into our system. Would you like to proceed?”
“Yes,” Lucy said. “Bring up what you find on the main monitor.”
Images began to flicker on the screen. Much of it was corrupted, destroyed by the huge explosion. There were reams of documents, all written in the Bug tongue.
“Computer,” Lucy said. “Can you translate these documents?”
“I can isolate recurring words and build a basic understanding of what they may say,” Computer said. “Accuracy may not exceed more than seventy percent, however.”
“Confirmed,” Lucy said.
A copy of the Bug reports appeared beside the original. The known words lay beside unknown ones. As Computer worked through the documents, he altered and changed the meaning of the words, until about seventy percent of the document had been successfully translated.
“Some of the words appear to have similar meanings,” Computer said. “I kept the broad meaning instead of attempting to decipher what the specific meaning might be.”
They were regular reports on the status of the ship, of the Earth’s atmosphere, no different to the ones scientists had on Earth. They were keeping a finger—or rather an antennae—on the pulse of the Earth’s health. They wanted to ensure it was still a clean, viable planet to harvest. It appeared to be the case.
The reports flicked past, one by one. Then, a flash of an image.
“Wait,” Lucy said. “What was that? Go back.”
It was an intergalactic map, with red points at various locations.
“Computer, zoom in on those red dots,” Lucy said.
Computer did. The image blurred the closer they got.
“Computer,” Lucy said. “Lay the map against the night sky and identify these locations.”
A pause as Computer searched, scrubbing through the galaxy and looking for identical matches.
“I have located three such potential locations,” Computer said.
“Bring up the closest to us,” Lucy said.
Computer did. The image showed the exact same star and planet formations as they zoomed around their suns.
“Computer, what is significant about these planets?” Lucy said.
“They exist in what is commonly referred to as the Goldilocks Zone,” Computer said. “It’s the band of space around stars that allow for the potential of water to exist on the surface, and therefore, life.”
“Perfect planets to colonize,” Jamie said.
Lucy could tell by the look on Jamie’s face that he was beginning to get the same twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach that she had.
“Gather the others,” Lucy said. “I fear we still have work to do.”
75.
“WE’RE NEVER going to understand what’s happening to you if we don’t do examinations,” Dr. Beck said.
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Donald said.
Dr. Beck had managed to convince Donald to follow him into the laboratory. He wanted to conduct a full range of tests to ascertain what was going on inside his body. He’d been infected by a Bug’s secretion and bitten by a Rage. He hadn’t yet turned. Something unusual was taking place inside Donald’s body. Dr. Beck was fascinated to figure out what that was. Donald, however, was putting up a great deal of resistance.
“A common way of thinking,” Dr. Beck said. “Patients never want to know the truth about their health. Even though it’s completely illogical to avoid it.”
“I’d rather not know,” Donald said.
“Except it might be nothing to worry about,” Dr. Beck said.
“In which case, I’m better off not knowing,” Donald said.
“How about this,” Dr. Beck said, hoping to strike a compromise. “How about I only tell you if it’s good news?”
“Then I’ll know it’s bad news because you won’t tell me,” Donald said. “That really helps ease my mind. Thanks.”
“Then I’ll lie to you either way,” Dr. Beck said. “Better?”
Donald gave him a flat stare.
“I can’t win with you, can I?” Dr. Beck said. “You need to know the truth. It might have a big impact on your future.”
Donald shook his head, still unconvinced.
“There’s never been anyone in your position before,” Dr. Beck said. “No one has ever been bitten and for it not to turn them into a Rage. We need to get to the bottom of this and figure out what’s going on inside your body.”
“All right,” Donald said, extending his arm. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
“No need to spill blood,” Dr. Beck said. “A simple swab will suffice.”
“Small mercies,” Donald said.
Dr. Beck swabbed the inside of Donald’s mouth and put it inside a petri dish.
“How long before you have the results?” Donald said.
“I have a heavy workload, so it’ll take about three months,” Dr. Beck said.
His serious expression turned to a childish grin.
“Only a few hours,” Dr. Beck said.
“Great service,” Donald said gruffly.
76.
IT FELT good to be doing experimental projects again. To be probing the unknown for answers. For what made sense. For an explanation that would clear things up. He was always a little sad after he figured out the answer to something. He had an exceptionally good sense of the direction a solution would take him. It was the result of having done experiments and math for so long. It was much more about whether his emotions an
d his instincts told him it made sense in the greater scheme of things.
It was obvious there was something wrong with Donald not turning into a Rage. He’d never known anyone to be immune before, for them to have some kind of natural resistance. There was no getting better from the virus. You either never got infected or you did and that was the end. He had some plausible explanations but nothing concrete. It was, frankly, a total mystery to him.
He took some of the specimen he’d taken from the patient and applied it to a slide. He slid it under the microscope and peered at it. He turned the tuner, the blurry image coming into focus. He paused, then pulled back from the microscope.
“Well, I’ll be,” he said, before returning to peering through the microscope again. “Donald, you certainly are full of surprises.”
77.
“THE RESULTS are in,” Dr. Beck said.
“Well?” Donald said. “Am I the human race’s belated last hope? The guy immune to the virus, from which we can harness a cure?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dr. Beck said. “You’re not immune. You’re as susceptible to the virus as anyone else.”
“Then how did I not turn?” Donald said. “Was I not really bitten or infected?”
“You were certainly bitten,” Dr. Beck said. “And you were definitely infected.”
“Are you going to keep drawing this out for dramatic purposes or are you going to tell me what’s going on inside me?” Donald said.
“What’s happening inside you is a marvel,” Dr. Beck said, playing along.
Donald sighed.
“Let’s go back to the beginning,” Dr. Beck said.
“Of time?” Donald said.
“Nowhere near that far,” Dr. Beck said. “Just a week ago will suffice. You were attacked by the Bug.”
“I certainly remember that,” Donald said, putting a hand to his stomach, where the twin puncture wound scars were located.
“The Bug injected you with an excretion,” Dr. Beck said. “None of this is new to you.”
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 55
