The Requiem of Steel

by David Adams

  Suddenly, Rowe’s face lit up as though it had been charged with ten thousand volts. “My super-secret mad scientist fucking bullshit. Believe me, this is going to be awesome.”

  “That… doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”

  “I know, but listen, okay?” She snapped open her laptop. The screen was a black terminal window with endlessly scrolling text flying past. “See this?”

  He had no idea of the significance of what he was looking at. “Yes? It’s a computer.”

  Rowe’s anger was palpable. “It’s more than just a computer. I got the Toralii constructs to build me a datacore. Right here, right in this room. They fabricated it like they did Liao’s arm, the hull repairs, and all the other stuff they made. I dragged some of the cables up from storage, found an old laptop that still runs, and I made with the magic. Now I have direct access. Direct access to the datacore.” She looked as though she might explode from happiness. “This is the most awesome thing ever.”

  “Okay, but can’t we already control the constructs? What purpose does having direct access serve?”

  “It means,” said Rowe, and Saeed—as he often did—got the distinct impression that she was talking down to him, “that we can directly inject information into the datacore’s neural net. But not just inject; extract, too. We can modify the thoughts and programming of the constructs on the fly.” She clicked her fingers excitedly. “Think about it this way. Just think. Just think. A datacore is basically a brain, right? Ben had one, and look at him. How he turned out.”

  “A sociopathic murderer obsessed with our Captain?” Saeed’s tone was dryer than the sands where they had found Ben’s datacore. “I’m not sure this is a step up, even for you.”

  The jab passed completely over her head. “No, no, no,” she said, stressing the syllables, “what I mean is… Ben was a thinking, feeling creature. Or at least he so perfectly resembled one that nobody could tell the difference. And he was able to move his consciousness from his metal box to a meat sack—”

  “A meat sack which is a genetic clone of the captain.” Ben had subsequently implanted numerous cybernetic implants into his cloned body, but the resemblance was still uncanny.

  Rowe kept talking. “Yeah, yeah. A meat sack. Well, I reckon I can do the opposite. Transfer my beautiful noggin into this box. Basically do what he did, but in reverse. So that I can get the damn thing working again without any issues from the damaged tissue.” She grinned like a jackal. “You have failed me, brain, for the last time.”

  “Why, in the name of Allah, would you consider doing something like that?” Saeed scowled darkly. “Are you sure you don’t need a lie down?”

  Rowe’s face fell and became an angry mask. “Don’t make fun of me, Doctor. I’m dead serious.”

  “Dead is exactly what you will be if you think you can put your brain into that thing. Especially in your current state, which I remind you, is not ideal.” He groaned softly, trying to make her understand. “Dead. Dead. D. E. A. D.”

  All her anger vanished. Her face lit up again, wild and excited at the idea. “Only if I fuck it up.”

  It was difficult to get through to Rowe at the best of times, but when she was like this…

  Still. He had to try. “You can’t be sure this will work. You can’t be sure that, even if you haven’t made some kind of terrible error, that the process will be survivable. We don’t even know if Human minds are compatible with that thing.” He shook his head. “Being transferred into a Human body had a strange effect on Ben’s psyche. We can’t know what it’ll do to you.”

  “Sure we can.” Summer tapped a couple of keys on the keyboard then turned the screen more towards him. “I’m testing it now.”

  Saeed’s chest tightened. “You’re—you’re uploading your brain to this thing? Now? As in, right now?”

  She laughed, long and high. “No, no. Shit, Doctor. Just a fish.”

  He couldn’t have been more confused. “Just a… fish? Is that an Australian thing?”

  “No.” She pointed behind the datacore. Beside it, almost completely out of view, was a clear tank, about a metre cubed, the source of the glowing blue light. A tangled mass of cables ran to it. “A fish.”

  Within the tank was an aquatic creature about a foot long, fat and bulbous, with a dozen or more thin tendrils draping down towards the floor of the tank. The creature was some kind of fusion between an octopus and a fish; he recognised it immediately. The locals called them chocco fish because of their sweet taste.

  The creature had a metal device crudely strapped to its head strapped with elastic bands. It floated upright but didn’t move, though its tendrils occasionally twitched against the floor of the glass.

  “You’re putting this creature’s brain into the datacore?”

  “Yup.”

  Saeed stared. “Is that… safe?”

  “Yeah… ish.”

  “Ish. Hmm.” Somewhat at a loss for words, Saeed tried to keep her engaged. “Okay, so when you’ve uploaded it… then what?”

  She tapped on the lid of the tank with her knuckles. The creature within didn’t react. “When the upload finishes, I’ll verify that it encapsulated the entirety of its consciousness, and when I’m sure it did, I’ll erase it.”

  Erase it? The idea that a living creature’s mind would be transferred into a box then erased seemed wrong to him. “Okay, okay. What will you do with the… remains?”

  Rowe grinned like a fox. “Eat it. These fuckers are delicious. If you cook ’em just right, add some salt, little bit of spice from our reserves, they taste like onion rings. Seafood is my jam.” She rolled her shoulders until the joints cracked. “You want some?”

  It was strange to him that eating a thing was okay, but copying and deleting a mind seemed wrong—even though killing the creature subsequently “erased” it in a sense. “Not sure if that’s halal. Fish that have scales is acceptable, but any animal that is an omnivore cannot be eaten. We know those creatures eat the seaweed-like plants that grow in the shallow water, but we don’t know enough about them to verify that they are permissible.”

  Such things had not been a huge issue. He, like many of humanity’s surviving Muslims, had been eating from the Beijing’s rations, as had all military personnel. They had to while the scientists tested Velsharn’s animal life.

  Fortunately, the Madrid had a very important tool for this work: the ship had escaped Earth with a dog onboard, named Raja. To test food substances the Humans had slowly fed increasing amounts of the local food to her. She had taken to the cuisine of Velsharn with admirable gusto and, apart from growing fat, did not appear to be suffering any particular malady. Raja was their hero. But she was the last of her kind, so when she died, that would be the end of all Earth dogs.

  “I’m glad that the Human population is surviving,” Saeed said. “And I suppose that eating the body is probably the most practical solution.”

  “Shit yeah.” Rowe hesitated slightly, and her tone shifted, becoming more formal. “Speaking of practical things, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about this.”

  “About eating a… fish? Squid? Thing?”

  “About the brain transfer.”

  He considered. “I’m not saying I support it, but if you’re certain, this kind of technology could be useful in the future.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Rowe waved her hand over her torso absently. “Sure. What I meant was, what to do with my body when it succeeds.”

  “If it succeeds.”

  “It totally will. Uhh, probably.” Rowe straightened her back. “So yeah. We should discuss what to do with the ole’ corpse once my mind’s been copied out of it.”

  “Okay,” Saeed said. “Legally and ethically speaking, when a person has a limb amputated, the remains are disposed of as medical waste. Alternatively, if the person has a burial plot and wishes to have it interred with them, such a thing could also be arranged. I’m not sure what Australian customs regarding this are, exactl
y, but if you had something specific in mind, we can arrange that.”

  “I did have something in mind.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay…” She stood there, thinking.

  “Take your time.”

  Rowe grimaced as though in pain. “Okay, I’ll just fucking say it. I don’t want kids. Never did. But… I know that humanity needs to grow to survive. There aren’t enough of us. So, you know, when the time comes, my body will basically be an empty shell. So, you know, I—aww, fuck it. Just fucking get some random to jack off into a tray, then use a turkey baster and—”

  He held up his hand. “We will locate a donor and make completely sure that the process is completed with all the dignity we can muster.”

  “Eh, dignity I don’t give a shit about. This body is a piece of shit anyway.”

  “Okay,” Saeed said. “We can treat that as donating your body to science.”

  “Awesome.” Rowe seemed distinctly pleased by that answer. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  He had his misgivings about everything: about Rowe working, about her even being out of bed, but seeing her wide, genuinely happy smile he couldn’t help but smile back. “Good luck.”

  CHAPTER VI

  Compromised

  *****

  Interrogation Room

  Zar’krun

  Some days later

  ONE THOUGHT PLAYED IN REPEAT in Liao’s mind. Two minutes more. Just two minutes more, and she would have been free. Two minutes more, and Warsong would have made it to the jump point. This was what happened when someone allowed themselves hope.

  The Toralii kept her away from the others now. O’Hill couldn’t, or didn’t, visit. Nobody did. She did not know who had survived from the escape or if the Igniter had really gotten away.

  With each day, the burning began anew. With each day, she became more accustomed to her routine of pain, four walls, and nothingness.

  On the sixth day—or was it the eighth?—she received another summons to the interrogation room. Wearily, as though her limbs weighed a thousand tonnes, she walked to the chamber, flanked by two guards, and pulled open the door.

  She knew what to expect—fire and torture, conducted by some faceless woman—but in fact, it was Commandant Yarri in the flesh, her dark-grey fur neatly trimmed, who stood behind the desk, huge paws folded behind her. The table—Kest’s table—came up to her hip. It seemed so much smaller with the huge Toralii woman behind it. She had a heavy plasma pistol strapped to her hip and a large black sack between her feet.

  [“Sit,”] Yarri commanded, her eyes narrowed to angry slits.

  Slowly, carefully, Liao pulled out the chair with her remaining arm and slowly slid into it.

  Yarri mirrored the motion, moving with slow, precise gestures, dragging back the seat on her side. The metal legs squeaked faintly on the deck. She sat, folding her tail into the slit in the middle.

  “You like this,” Liao said, “don’t you? You like seeing me face-to-face.”

  [“This is a job to me.”] Liao found the simple genuineness in her tone surprising. [“In here, out there… what I do is no different than paperwork or piloting a garbage shuttle. By day, I hurt you and yours, and by night, I go home to my family. Two young sons. They are very proud of me.”]

  “They shouldn’t be.”

  [“Because this work is below my station?”]

  “Because you’re a monster. A monster who works for monsters, someone who burns people and uses pain to extract information.”

  [“It’s… a necessary unpleasantness. Much like burning garbage. Someone has to do it.”]

  “Nobody has to do it.”

  [“A premise upon which we must disagree.”] Yarri clicked her tongue, leaning forward slightly. [“But to business. My superiors inform me that prior to your escape, you had engaged in dialogue with the… civilian they have burdened me with.”] She glared at Liao across the table. [“I’m certain this will come as no surprise to you, but I do not approve of his methods.”]

  Liao said nothing.

  [“The return of your crewman was a mistake in my eyes. It enabled the escape attempt. Such things will not be permitted to occur again. I hope, Captain, for your sake, that none of your fellow Humans become similarly ill.”]

  “I hope that, too.”

  Yarri was silent for a moment. [“If I had my way, Kest would not speak with you again, but the Archeological and Xenological Society has…”] She ground her teeth together, large canines clicking. [“Insisted. They are a powerful guild, well connected, and I cannot oppose their commands.”]

  “My heart goes out to you.” Liao smiled. “How terrible that you are forced into doing things you do not wish to do.”

  The Toralii woman’s pupils dilated. [“You would do well to keep a civil tongue when speaking to me. I should burn you for that.”]

  “And yet you aren’t. You’re here in the room with me, which suggests to me that there’s more to this… Archeological and Xenological Society’s command than you’re letting on.”

  For a brief moment, Liao thought she had pushed things too far, but Yarri calmed herself with visible effort, then reached down and opened the large sack. [“Perhaps you can tell me what this weapon is.”] She placed a Dragon’s Breath rifle, the standard weapon her marines used, on the table. It had a magazine inserted into it. Still loaded? [“We recovered it from your unit on the surface.”]

  “It’s a firearm,” Liao said, eyeing the device cautiously. “A weapon. I would have thought you’d have figured that part out by now.”

  [“We understand that much, Human. I meant more specifically.”] She touched the magazine release. [“This switch here… what function does it serve?”]

  “That button is the selective fire switch,” Liao said, smiling sweetly as she lied. “It helps you miss faster.”

  [“Aah.”] Yarri’s face fell. [“I would hope you’d tell me the truth—that it was the magazine release.”]

  “If you knew, why did you ask me?” Liao scowled. “Is that why you’re talking to me face-to-face? Just to annoy me with stupid questions?”

  [“No.”]

  “Then why?”

  [“I want information from you. It’s my job to get it.”] Surprisingly, genuine sadness crossed her face. [“This is what my comrades fail to understand. Torture is only useful when confirming information you already know, or strongly suspect, to be true… and which you can check easily.”] She pushed the button and the magazine fell out. Empty. [“So while I admire, and respect, your commitment to your people, Captain Liao, please know I will only ask you questions for which I already know the answer.”]

  “That doesn’t mean I’m going to help you. Or Kest. Or anyone. At all.”

  [“I understand.”] Yarri slid the weapon back into the cloth bag. [“Perhaps some other questions may, instead, be useful.”] She sucked in air through her nostrils. [“As you may be aware, the Alliance has come into possession of a substantial media collection. A trove of your history, culture, and expression.”]

  “I was listening to one of our songs last night.”

  [“A kindness we hoped you would repay with kindness.”] Yarri’s fur rippled. [“Tell me of one of your Earth heroes. The one depicted in your movies: the rabbit trickster-warrior, Bugs Bunny.”]

  It took her a second to process the request, and she tried—she tried her hardest—to keep a straight face. “Oh, he’s a terrifying warrior, able to bend steel with his bare hands.”

  Yarri nodded slowly. [“The moving pictures we reviewed are powerful. He survives weapon blasts unhindered. Is he based on a real creature? Some species you encountered before us?”]

  “Yes,” Liao said, slinging bullshit as fast as it came to her head. “Bugs Bunny is a member of the Loony Toonsians. They are a terrifying warrior race who, uhh, used their magic to defeat us in many battles. But we overcame them eventually.”

  Yarri’s face tightened, sceptical, but she pressed on. [“Tell me about your other war gods.”
]

  “Our chief war god is called… Schwarzenegger. He defeated Percy Jackson, leader of the Vulcans, at the battle of Hogwarts a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”

  [“Pah, Humans do not possess the capability to travel between galaxies. Not even the Alliance can do so reliably.”] Her tone darkened. [“I feel, Captain Liao, that you are not taking me seriously.”]

  “I always take you seriously,” Liao said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Yarri glared at her. Liao smiled back in return, showing plenty of teeth.

  [“Are Humans always so… obstinate?”] Yarri snarled as she spoke, the sound curling around her words. [“Always so defiant to those who have them completely at their mercy?”]

  “Often. That is our way; our culture is full of last stands, of Humans standing up against injustice despite long odds. Plenty of corpses in our history books.”

  [“As there are in ours.”]

  Liao settled back in her chair. “Not like us. The Toralii have a numbers advantage in ships and a technology advantage overall, but we’ve taken the fight to you. We broke Kor’Vakkar, we smashed your largest fleet in the orbit of Velsharn, and now we have you scared enough that the Toralii Alliance are studying us like rats. Trying to figure us out. Make yourselves more like us.” Liao flashed a wide smile. “But you won’t. Not in time. Not fast enough to matter.”

  [“What do you mean?”]

  She thought for a moment. “We have a weapon. Well, a munition, really. Depleted uranium rounds. Solid slugs with a huge uranium spike at the centre. We use them on our railguns, and we based the design on contemporary anti-tank weapons. The theory goes… uranium is dense, which makes it heavy and suitable to fire at armoured targets, but it does so much more beyond just penetrating armour. The spike gradually wears down as it shears its way through the target before breaching its armour. Once the weapon penetrates, the powdered uranium has a massive exposed surface area that rapidly combines with the air to turn the inside of the tank into an inferno. Take that concept, blow it up, and there you have it. Railgun weapons.