by V Guy
“Are you kidding? I’d rather be here. How are my girls?”
“They’re already missing you.” Malik’s mood lightened around the commando.
“Of course they are,” said Arturo, winking at Helen. “How are you doing, beautiful?”
Her mouth dropped opened in shock.
He turned to Malik. “Evelyn briefed me on the way in. The rest of the guys will stagger their arrivals next week. I was lucky; I returned first.”
Malik made a half smile. “We’ll be busy.”
“I know. After I’ve shut down the Rumbler, I’ll prep the decoy for activation.”
Evelyn got out of the driver’s seat and came to Helen’s side, watching Arturo stride to the hovercraft. “Can you believe it? Not a drop of alcohol in that man. He was like that the whole way back. There will be a lot of upcoming changes; I should get on the supply inventory for the upgrade.”
“Commando’s just don’t do that,” said Helen to Malik, watching her leave. “Will I be like that?”
“They’re all perfectly different,” he replied. He remembered their development. “You’ll be equally unique.”
No more visitors arrived, and they made departure from Evaline at dusk, dodging a squall in a clandestine lift off. A skate to open space, a session in the substrate, and another short skate to Bedele followed. Arturo and Evelyn monitored the bridge for Malik’s concealed departure to the world.
When the lights rose in the passage after his exit, Helen arrived to wait with them. “I’m worried.”
Evelyn made a private smile.
Arturo turned to Helen. “He’s the last one about whom you need to be concerned.”
“Why? What if he doesn’t adapt?”
He programed a ship position adjustment. “Malik has had twenty-one years to live a different life. He’s not starting from zero.”
Helen frowned. “But I don’t want to forget—at least, I don’t think I do.”
Arturo shrugged. “After we reached a certain level of differentiation, we experienced our original programming. Each of us kept a few things and rejected the rest. He’d let you do the same.”
“What if I wanted to keep everything?”
“Then you would.”
She fidgeted, envious of their calm. “I need something to do.”
He broke into laughter. “Then help me. I’m sure you have some piloting stuffed into that head of yours. You should familiarize yourself with these controls, because he’s made modifications and uses sturdier, retro interfaces.”
Malik returned from the surface hours later, easing the Rumbler into the darkened passage. Once the seals were verified and the area was pressurized, he stepped free to see Helen waiting. A look of relief crossed her face.
“Well?” she asked.
“Twenty-three slave initiates and forty-three staff members. Four of them tended to remain near the small airfield. I expect they were the crew of the nearby cloaked Intruder.”
“A ship,” said Helen, raising an eyebrow. “We could use that.”
“I agree. Assist me with the craft’s shutdown. You should know this.”
“I’ve shut down these before.”
“Not ones like this.”
He led her through an extended orientation and instruction until the craft was nestled in the garage. She ran her hand appreciatively over the craft’s flanks. “Central Security would kill for your skills. Nothing we had approached this.”
Malik froze. They would kill for my skills.
She looked at him in concern. “What did I say?”
“Part of this was theirs,” he replied, his thoughts elsewhere. “Or yours, that is. I did make a few modifications.”
Helen made a snort. “No kidding. Concealed departure from orbit in a craft not designed for either feat? It’s beautiful.”
He smiled. “There’s a program the sim designed specifically for this craft. You should practice.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll be flying it. Get some sleep We’ll start in the morning.”
She straightened, made a quizzical expression, then lay above. He momentarily pondered her departure before going to the bridge. Arturo was the only other member of the returned from leave, and he manned the bridge.
“We’re in the substrate returning to Evaline,” said the commando. “ETA five hours.”
“Update?” Malik asked Evelyn, standing nearby.
She glanced back. “The owner of the Curve wants to make a delivery. He says it’s urgent. I told him to try again Newday morning.”
“Tell him the evening. I might be gone all day.”
Evelyn nodded and accessed her console.
“What about Bedele?” asked Arturo. “What’s the report from the slaver, Bedele Creative?”
Malik submitted surveillance data to the commando’s console.
“Layout?”
A screen was activated.
“Communications?”
“Secure, just like the network.”
“The perimeter protective shield?”
“I crossed through a weak section,” replied Malik, noting a link on the display. “The ship has been passively tagged. Hopefully we can discover whether their presence implies a recent delivery, an impending one, or a stationing location.”
“Building surveillance and security?”
Malik shook his head. “I didn’t want to tap their systems and inadvertently reveal myself. They had excellent system security, but I was careful enough to determine some rough connectivity while staying undetected.”
He touched a note on the display, and a series of different-colored lines were highlighted, representing electrical, network, and security connections.
Arturo frowned as he concentrated. “And we still need to protect the merchandise. That’s a lot of objectives.”
Malik had likewise considered the complications. “I have the bridge. Get some rest.”
***
Evelyn was rubbing her eyes when she entered the bridge six hours later. “I forgot why I do this schedule. Oh, that’s right—for the adventure. That’s why.”
She dropped into her station, donned her headset, and groaned. “I’ve got the decoy.”
Arturo was better built to withstand the rigor, but his fatigue was apparent when he arrived ten minutes earlier. “I’m not detecting the gravity restriction,” he said, checking his instruments. “Our passage in the substrate was confirmed from the surrounding gravity wells, and we should be detecting something.”
“Surface at the destination anyway,” said Malik. “Then bring us to a full stop.”
The breach’s fire receded, and darkness encompassed them. “We’re here. At least, I think we are.”
One star, two gas giants, two rocky inner planets, one icy outer planet, and the world of Salient were gone. The only evidence of a system were three comets that had lost their gravitational tethers.
“Submerge and move us off twelve light-hours.”
Pathfinder moved twelve light-hours away and surfaced to face the missing system. No star shone. Another travel of a half light-day yielded the same results. A third passage placed them where the star’s light still shone.
“Salient’s star thirty-six hours ago,” said Malik, observing the shining orb. “We were slightly off target. Take us forward in one light-hour submersions until the star disappears, then withdraw a light-hour.”
Arturo took them to the specified point in space. Malik accessed an auxiliary station.
“Hold position. I need readings.”
Evelyn let her attention drift from monitoring the decoy. “I’m watching them die.”
“I know,” said a subdued Arturo. “They were good people. They were friends.”
They observed the star for forty minutes until Salient’s star flickered, its spectra shifted, and it disappeared like a snuffed flame. Malik’s expression was inscrutable as he stared at the star’s last position. He lingered in thought long after the disapp
earance. “Take us to Catricel.”
“We’re not going to do anything?” asked Evelyn, her eyes widening.
Malik was pensive. “It’s already been done.”
“But the people that did this?”
“Are high in the command ranks.”
She wrestled with the problem. “This was wrong.”
“But what happened?” asked Arturo.
Malik glared angrily at the darkness, as if the observed outcome could be altered by his attitude. “They were swallowed by the substrate.”
5: Memories
Day 664: Pathfinder, Salient
Malik had spoken little of his concerns, but his hardened expression and ashen coloring said much. After their course was set, he exited the bridge without comment. Evelyn hazarded a final glance at her console, dropped her headset, and rose quickly to follow.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “You look terrible.”
He stopped, keeping his eyes forward “I knew our lives would become more interesting when we searched for Selena, but this was unexpected.”
“Do you think you could find them?”
“It would require free time and resources, of which we’ll soon be strapped, and the knowledge to find them, which we currently lack. Questions every day, working with slaves during the nights, and weekend work for Kroes means this isn’t something we can tackle.”
“How big a challenge is it?”
“An incredible one,” said Malik, facing her. “I may never see her again.”
Her expression softened. “We’re with you.”
He looked thoughtfully about the passage. “Get us to Catricel, where we can become even busier.”
She offered him an encouraging smile and returned to the bridge.
Malik’s inner turmoil left him simultaneously desiring and abhorring company. After Serena claimed his quarters, he felt he could never again call them his; Helen was sleeping, the simulator was available, and he could enter the chamber. A very familiar program was activated—Paradise. Instead of a long underwater swim to reach shore, he let himself appear on the beach. The bugs, tweeters, and soldiers were absent.
He dug his claws into the sand and felt the life programmed into its substance. This projection was founded on a memory, had transitioned into being a highly variable therapy program, and was now a programming artifact. Strangely enough, the original location was the birthplace of his only real memories. The experiences leading to the attack on the island notably paralleled the agent’s development: they were present for the sole purpose of surviving long enough to succeed.
The commandos’ foundational memories were two-dimensional and useful only for presenting a picture; her recollections resembled flat shapes stacked to form a three-dimensional form, yet his memories were astonishingly smooth and continuous. They were like his simulations—entirely convincing. Unlike the simulation, they were effortlessly genuine. They simply were, as if their existence was proof enough.
A light breeze touched the beach. There were no storms, adversaries, or hazards. The island was at peace.
He missed Drelas. The thought of her permanent absence solidified a fierce determination within him. He knew who banished the system. It was the Third Fleet, the same people who once destroyed another star system. He concentrated on his memories of the little dragon to use them as his creator intended with Reylin. She had been a tool to stoke his passion, give him focus, and encourage him to contend.
I will fight, he determined. I will find you, girl.
An opening of the simulator hatch and soft footfalls signified another’s presence.
“Sleep doesn’t come easily,” said Helen, her weary face confirming her words. “I don’t know who I am, and my dreams haunt me with lies.”
Malik well remembered his last two decades. “What would you choose them to be, were the choice offered?”
She shook her head in distress. “I don’t know.”
“How soon would you like to know?”
“I don’t understand.”
He turned to offer his full attention. “How long do you wish to debate an impossible decision before making one?”
Helen squirmed under his gaze. “What if it’s the wrong one?”
“What if it’s the right one?”
“How could I know?”
“You can’t. How long do you wish to debate this? You, more than anyone in this universe, can reinvent yourself. You’re not giving up real memories but someone else’s fabrication.”
She pondered his words. “What about your false memories?”
“I’ve built a life around them. They’ve defined my entire existence, established my convictions, and patterned how I approach life. I’ll be very honest; as much as I know they’re lies, I would not disavow them. I like the man I thought I was, and I like the creature he supposedly became.”
“But you’re a slave?”
“I’ll always be a slave. A different past can’t alter that.”
Helen considered his words. “Would you do it again if you had the choice?”
Malik smiled grimly, reminiscing on his past. “That isn’t a situation I’ll face.”
She hugged herself protectively, and her countenance fell.
His tone gentled. “My last two decades are an extensive, real existence, never mind the foundation on which they were built. I do not regret the life that followed. Your two decades are different—they are one, large, false foundation. You can move forward from here and keep them, or you can create something new.”
“But what if you were in my position?” asked Helen. “What if you didn’t have two decades of living to depend on? What if you learned the truth early?”
Malik thought back to the final days with Reylin, the love they shared, and the grief he felt at their parting. “Losing the love of my life was agonizing. If I had discovered shortly after my creation that my memories were all lies, and that my pain could be excised, I would certainly have erased them. I would have forgotten those eviscerating, cruel lies in a heartbeat.”
“You loved her.”
He nodded. “And I’ve grieved nearly continuously since. Some part of me is relieved, another part mourns, and another is angry. It’s a mystifying conundrum.”
After noting her pained expression, he added, “I’ve loved since and I believe that I’ve loved better because of Reylin. For that and that alone would I not shed the grief or the pain.”
“You’re conflicted.”
Malik stared across the waves at a pod of passing dolphins. He had occasionally swum among them, but his purpose had always been dark, and he had barely noticed their presence. Now he envied their freedom.
“It’s okay to be conflicted. If my heart were making the decision, I would have started over. My brain would’ve decided to keep the experience, but twenty-two years of hindsight makes an honest prediction impossible. Besides, any current evaluation is largely moot, since I’ve lived and experienced too much. The past is immutable.”
Her eyes flared and rolled. “You’re no help.”
Malik’s countenance softened. “Try a new beginning. I gave the commandos an opportunity to review what they relinquished, and I’ll do the same for you. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Helen’s eyes widened with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She bit her lip. “How will this work?”
***
She entered the local Xist environment and joined Malik in a wide, circular chamber. Softly illuminated and featureless, the wall was as inviting as a painter’s canvas that yearned for content. Helen glanced about the room, and her eyebrows rose when the untextured surface responded.
“This place is sensitive to mental pressure,” he said. “I’ve lowered the response to avoid disorientation, but once we begin, it will be used as both an interpreter and a buffer.”
“But our minds will touch anyway, right?”
He nodded. “This is the bridge that connects us.”
She s
hot him an interrogating gaze. “You’ve already touched my mind.”
“This is a more regulated environment. Controls are present to prevent inadvertent damage.”
Helen strolled around the chamber. “What you’ll do will potentially obliterate everything I am. How’s that any different?”
“It would be deliberate.”
She hesitated as she considered the ramifications then appeared to make a decision. Her expression softened. “Can I see how I appear to you?”
Her mind appeared around them. Symmetric structures and direct connections represented the person she was programmed to be, while organic shapes and diverse lines showed the growth that followed their implementation. One was intricately intertwined with the other. Shadowing the structure was another construction, hazy yet substantial.
Helen turned. “You’re here, too.”
“We’re linked,” said Malik. “I should be.”
An irresistible smile tempted her lips. “You’re troubled, but helping me brings peace.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“A connection isn’t necessary to know that. The thought of helping me helps you.”
“I am that obvious.”
Helen chuckled, and the image of her mental form reacted, reflecting the impact of her good cheer. She looked at the display in wonder, her sudden curiosity altering the display’s shape and flow. “Steel velvet is what you are,” she said, reacting, seeing the new mental patterns, and responding to the change. “Strong and gentle. You aren’t always that way.”
“I’ve frequently been harsh.”
“Galaxy help your victims,” she said, enraptured by her mental activity. “The commandos?”
“Once I learned their encodings, they were easy to alter. Naturally formed minds are more intricate.”
Helen nodded as she studied her mind, and a thoughtful expression formed on her visage. “Demonstrate how you changed my encoding and altered my mission.”
The surrounding view turned static when an older version of herself appeared. A section of her memory was highlighted, and tendrils from the marked area extended to surrounding areas of her memory.
