by Tracy Lauren
“Compounding the tragedy for the Lancaster family, in recent weeks, they have fallen victim to what the sheriff’s department is calling ‘Trial by Social Media.’ No one in the Lancaster family has been named as a person of interest in Andrea’s disappearance, yet the Facebook page dedicated to finding her has been inundated with speculation focusing on Andrea’s parents. Sheriff Clausen stepped in to condemn these accusations, calling the claims both damaging and unfounded.
“Spurring the accusations, however, is the stance the Lancaster family has taken since very early in their daughter’s disappearance. One post on Andrea’s Facebook page quoted her mother saying that she had no hope in finding her daughter alive at this point. All they pray for is answers. Of which, they still have none.”
The camera shifts to someone new. Based on the woman’s facial features I know instantly that it is Andrea’s mother. The woman’s eyes are red-rimmed from crying and beside me Andrea’s shoulders shake with a heavy sob. One hand covers her mouth, muffling her pain, and the other remains clutching onto me.
“I know my daughter wouldn’t leave on her own accord. She had a new job she was looking forward to, she was so excited, it was all she could talk about. She wouldn’t walk away from that. No way. Someone did something to her. Someone stole that bright future my daughter had.” The woman shakes her head mournfully. “My daughter had her whole life ahead of her.”
The report cuts out and Andrea leans into me, burying her face against my neck. Silently, I hold her.
“Over the decades, your name remained on a list of missing persons, but there were never any clues and your case went cold,” Kayla continues. “Your pod’s onboard computer, however, contained the answers your family never got.”
Andrea tilts her face toward Kayla, an indication that she wants to hear more, despite the pain that this is causing her.
“Is the name Philip Raymond Leninger familiar to you at all?”
“No.” Andrea clears her throat. “It isn’t.”
“Mr. Leninger was a billionaire from your time period. A billionaire who seemed to have a fascination with outer space. He left this message on the pod we discovered you in—” Kayla pauses, looking hesitant. “I have to warn you, what Mr. Leninger suggests might be offensive to you.”
“If Mr. Leninger kidnapped me, I imagine the entirety of his being will offend me,” Andrea notes drily.
“We are all in agreement on that,” the Captain interjects. “Play the message, Kayla.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Greetings alien life. If you are hearing this message, you have located one of my pods. Inside is a human female from a planet called Earth. She is a volunteer. Healthy and of child-bearing age. This female sought an opportunity of a lifetime—to ensure the human race continued throughout the ages.”
“Conditions on Earth are dire,” the voice grows serious. “And extinction of all life is imminent. But there are those of us who will do whatever it takes to seed the galaxy with our DNA. Humanity will be eternal.
“Take this female, she is our offering to you. See that she is mated to the strongest and bravest of your warriors. Fertility amongst our kind is bountiful and she will no doubt provide you with many young. We ask for nothing in return. Our gratitude goes out to you for your part in ensuring the continuation of the human race.”
Kayla stops the recording there. “Mr. Leninger goes on to lay out his plan. It seems he sent 64 so-called volunteers out into space.”
“How is that even possible?”
“We looked in to Mr. Leninger’s businesses and associations on Earth at the time of your disappearance. The man was obsessed with space travel and the idea of alien life breeding with humans. He wanted it to occur within his lifetime and it appears he refused to wait. We believe he utilized his connections to the Russian government to gain access to their rockets. There were multiple financial transactions to support this theory.”
“What happened to Leninger? Was he caught?” Andrea pushes herself upright in her seat, her heart pounding with outrage. I keep one hand gently on her back, hoping that my touch brings her some level of comfort.
“Leninger died in 2032 at the age of 56. This was 13 years after your disappearance. His death was a result of inebriation while driving at high speeds on a highway along the coast of Spain. He was never associated with your disappearance, let alone the other 63 women.”
“Women? He only sent women out in the pods?”
“That seems to be the case,” Kayla confirms.
“Why did he say we were near extinction? What happened on Earth?”
“Earth continued on. Leninger’s concerns were tied to his own morbid fascination with the breeding of human women with alien races.”
Andrea looks up at the ceiling, taking in deep breaths. Though her sobs have faded, tears streak down her cheeks which are ruddy from crying and her hand still grips mine tightly. Throughout this whole meeting, she has held onto me in one way or another and I feel compelled to do the same.
“What year is it?” Andrea asks.
“3942. You have been missing for 1,923 years.”
A deep frown creases Andrea ’s face. Again she battles her sobs.
“Your life in the 21st century was stolen from you, Andrea. But you were lucky in the fact that Leninger’s technology was able to last as long as it did, especially coming from an era so long before interstellar travel.”
“I don’t feel very lucky.”
The counselor chimes in. As a female Makaan, she is nothing like Andrea in her physical appearance. Her skin is thick and leathery, she had no feet, but one large toe at the end of each leg which she stands upon—an ungulate. There are tusks protruding from her mouth which make her English seem garbled and Andrea startles at the woman’s sudden interjection into the conversation.
“Oh, but you are! Your life might have taken a detour, but it is still yours to live! And what an exciting time compared to the era you came from! You should feel very lucky.”
With a firm jaw, the Captain takes this opportunity to make the introduction. “Andrea, this is counselor Gulan. She will be serving as your liaison to the 39th century. As I said before, you are our guest and we’d like to welcome you to this era. For as long as you wish to remain with us, you may call the Salutation your home.
“Gulan will introduce you to our technology, cover historical events you have missed out on, work with you on your emotional acclimation, and eventually aid you in finding a job here on the Salutation if you feel inclined to work.”
Andrea ’s grip on my hand tightens and her eyes are troubled as she appraises the eager Gulan. “And besides than the Salutation, do I have any other options?”
“The Salutation is a ship designed for scientific exploration. It is not a single world government that funds us, but the Allied Transplanetary Republics—hence the variety of species you will find aboard. At the start of our enlistment we were assigned to a seven-year mission, we are currently in year four.”
Andrea blinks, not quite comprehending what it is that the Captain is telling her. “It will be another three years before we return to your solar system,” I inform her, keeping my tone low and private.
Andrea gapes at me in surprise.
Gulan cuts in, mangling Andrea’s name. Though I admit it is through no fault of her own, her tusks will simply not allow her to form the correct sounds. “The Salutation is a wonderful home, Angrea! There are over a thousand crew members and their families aboard. We have botanical gardens, entertainment decks, and we even have a variety of professions which might suit one with your level of intelligence!”
Renzo lets out a loud scoff and even Andrea does not miss the slight against her. She frowns in Gulan’s direction and gravitates closer to me. A sense of unease flows off of her.
Captain Nilsson clears her throat. “Gulan can take you to your room now Andrea, so that you might get settled.”
Andrea grips me tighter, scooting so close t
o the edge of her chair that she is practically climbing onto my lap. I notice her already erratic heart rate is steadily increasing with her panic.
“I would like to offer an alternative.” My words cut through Andrea’s tension.
“What’s that, Valens?” the Captain questions.
“I will be Andrea’s liaison.”
Gulan laughs. “But you are an android! How would you be able to extinguish the girl’s emotional turmoil? You cannot even understand such a thing!”
“Do I get a choice in this?” Andrea looks to the Captain with desperation. “Because I want Valens.”
Captain Nilsson looks between the two of us. “It’s important to me that you feel safe here, Andrea. If Valens offers you that sense of peace then I’m comfortable with the arrangement—as long as it does not interfere with his other duties.”
Andrea is already nodding eagerly in agreement.
“Captain! I must protest!” Gulan cries out. “An android is not equipped for such an endeavor! He is nothing more than a comp—”
“Enough, Gulan!” the Captain snaps, coming to my defense. “Please leave us. I will inform you if my position changes, though that matter will be up to Andrea. And in the future I would have you remember that it is not per ATR code to openly question command decisions. Any further questions you have will be submitted in writing. Thank you.”
Gulan’s frown is a deep one and she pushes herself up from her seat. As displeased as she appears, I am impressed with her ability to bite back the response that surely lies on the tip of her tongue.
Once she is gone the Captain speaks again. “Unless you have further questions, Andrea, this meeting is adjourned. You have full access to the investigation Valens’s team did on your disappearance and all areas of the ship that are not containment labs. You’ll find there are many labs aboard a science vessel, and some of those are home to what I like to call cooties. Best to stay away from those. Otherwise, make yourself comfortable and don’t hesitate to call on me if there’s anything you need.”
“Thank you,” Andrea breathes out, her relief at the meeting’s conclusion is palpable.
“Welcome home, Andrea,” the others say as, one by one, they file out of the room.
Chapter 11
Valens
“You didn’t have to do that,” Andrea tells me.
“I promised I would not leave you,” I point out.
“I thought we were just talking about the debriefing,” she says, her eyes on the ground.
I stop in my tracks. “I do not believe Gulan would be a good fit to aid in your acclimation, and you did not appear to be interested in such an arrangement anyway. Is there an alternative you would prefer? Something that I have overlooked?”
“No!” Andrea hurries to tell me. “This is definitely what I prefer, it’s just…you didn’t have to.”
“I was prepared for such an arrangement when I made my promise to you.” We continue down the corridor toward Andrea’s assigned room. I am not pleased with its location; it is too far from my own. Officer quarters are on a different deck, but if I am to help Andrea, it would make more sense for us to be in close proximity.
“Why are you helping me?” she asks, her voice quiet as she gazes down the corridors of the ship with a mixture of awe and fear.
For the first time in my waking life I hesitate on giving an honest and thorough answer, because at this point, not even I understand the implications. The truth is that I am interested in Andrea—deeply intrigued not only by her unique circumstances and the responses she will have to them, but selfishly, I am also curious about the reactions my own neural network is having to her.
“If I told you I felt a sense of responsibility towards you because I was the one who found you, would you be offended?” That is at least partly true.
“It’s not the best reason to tie yourself to me, but it’s certainly not the worst. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers.”
“You are not a beggar, Andrea. I have willingly opted to be your companion. Though Gulan might not have been entirely wrong in pointing out I am not an optimal candidate for the position.”
“Fuck Gulan,” Andrea says angrily.
I stop in my tracks. “Fuck her?”
Andrea blushes. “I mean, she can go to hell. The woman didn’t say much, yet she still managed to offend me…and you a little bit too, I think.”
“Gulan is not capable of offending me.”
“Because you’re an android?”
“Because I do not care about her opinion.”
Andrea smiles and I nearly stumble at the sight. It is only her first day of consciousness since recovering from the ill effects of the stasis pod and already her emotional state seems to be on the mend. Perhaps I will be a better companion than I thought.
“Gulan was concerned about my ability to navigate your emotional needs and I must tell you, Andrea, she is not wrong. Emotions are something new to me. I am still learning the nuances and I find them exceedingly complex in humans.”
“Do you…have emotions? Sorry if that’s a rude question; if it is chalk it up to my ignorance on androids.”
“It is an ignorance I share, believe me. My race was only discovered 36 years ago. We had lain dormant after the extinction of our creators—the Ineuwins. It was only when the ATR discovered us that we awoke. I was a blank slate at that point and it has taken me many years to learn what I know, and even now I believe it is only a fraction of what my creators intended.”
“So you’re 36? That’s only ten years older than me.”
“Technically I am 278. That makes me 1,671 years your junior.”
“Wow…that is some math I do not want to comprehend. I can’t believe I’m nearly 2,000 years old. I’d laugh if it wasn’t such a tragedy.” Though her tone is conversational, the look in her eyes is distant, as if her thoughts are elsewhere.
“This is your room,” I tell her, stopping at one of the hundreds of uniform doors along the corridor.
She looks up and down the hall. “How am I going to recognize it?”
“It is twenty-three doors down from the elevator.”
“Ah, that’ll be a cinch then.” She gives a sad laugh.
“Allow me to help you set a code for entry.”
“How many digits?”
“As many or as few as you would like.”
She thinks for a moment. “Is 2019 too obvious?”
“Not at all.” I enter the settings for her and the door glides open, but Andrea wavers on her feet before committing to entry. Her movements are slow and cautious as if there might be some unseen danger hiding in the shadows.
“Lights,” I say, issuing the command to the computer. The room brightens. “Voice commands on the ship are very straightforward. Even if the AI has difficulty understanding your meaning it will converse with you until you are satisfied.”
“That’s helpful.” I watch Andrea as she inspects the room, not moving from her spot by the door. The fact that she is wary is apparent.
“Allow me to give you a tour. This is your living space. You have seating, a table for your meals. large enough to seat four, there is a media player in this wall, and you can utilize the synthesizer for anything from basic needs, like your hair brush from earlier or food and beverages.”
There are windows along the back wall too, but the curtains are drawn, blocking Andrea’s view of space. For the time being, I think it is best we leave it as such. The room also has some minor décor—a coffee table and small plants, but I see no need to point out the obvious. Andrea can see them as well as I can.
“In here is your toilet and cleansing unit.” Together we squeeze into the small bathroom. Andrea touches all the buttons, ensuring she understands how to activate all the necessary functions of the room. I show her the cupboard where she can keep her soaps and hygiene supplies. She cringes when she looks into the mirror, running her fingers through her hair. I want to comment on her appearance—to tell her that she has
no reason to be self-conscious, for her beauty is a natural and effortless one. But that is not something I have ever been inclined to tell a woman before, and I stop myself before the words come out, curious as to why I would even think to say them.
“Do you have any questions?”
Andrea shakes her head.
“The bedroom is the final section of your quarters.” I lead her back across to the other side of her quarters and we stand together in the doorway of her bedroom, staring down at her bed. “In the closet you will find the things Vesi and Kayla acquired for you.”
Andrea’s gaze is blank.
“There’s also a bookshelf and the wall folds down, offering a work space.”
“Okay.”
Awkwardly, we make our way back into the living space. “Are you hungry?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I think I forgot to be.” She gives me a weak smile.
“You need nourishment to survive, Andrea.” I make my way to the synth machine and type in the code for chicken soup. Kayla eats it whenever she is feeling unwell. “You can use verbal commands on the synth machine as well, you do not need to know all the codes.”
I set the bowl down on the table. Andrea moves numbly to take her place in front of it, but she only stirs the thin noodles with her spoon.
“Is there a problem with your room? I have misgivings about it as well—”
“No, the room’s fine.”
“I’d ask what troubles you, but I suppose it would be a foolish question.”
Andrea smiles sadly. “It would be.”
“You can tell me what you are feeling, Andrea. I might not always understand the emotion, but I will always work to.”
“I’m just scared of what happens once you leave. Once it’s quiet in here, all I’ll have is my thoughts. I’ll think of yesterday—or what was yesterday in my mind—of sitting down at the table with my parents and talking over crockpot spaghetti. It’s so fresh in here.” She touches her temple. I want to reach out and touch it too.
