At first, the going was slow. As I had already determined, the tower had been completely destroyed, and the wreckage had been distributed at random through the unpredictable and changeable system of crevices, tunnels, and channels that had been cut or split into the ice. I fabricated a powerful multi-spectrum scanner from one of the blueprints stored in my suit’s library and just wandered through the glacier’s hidden world, following the faint traces of signal that I could pick up with my scanner. Fortunately, most of the systems that Barbas was running during the attack were accessible by wireless network, and they had their own backup power storage. That meant that the first parts of the AI’s mind that I found were relatively simple things to track. Their broadcast signals were still transmitting, reaching out blindly for a network with which to connect.
Collecting those fragments of Barbas’ personality matrix was a straightforward process. I just had to get close enough to those fragments to attach their host machines to my suits internal network, and then Barbas would reach out and reabsorb the shard of his mind contained within. Before long, he was speaking with some resemblance of his normal self, and we were talking and sharing ideas as we searched. He was able to remember which systems he had been connected to, and this made the search just a little bit easier. But soon, we ran out of systems with functioning wireless connections, and we were back to random searching.
At Barbas’ suggestion, I modified my scanner to detect any trace of radiation from the fusion core detonation. The reactor we used- the one all Formers had been trained to build and use, had several fail-safe systems built in to prevent the widespread dispersal of radioactive contaminant, so the region of the glacier around us wasn’t actually overly contaminated. Trace fallout showed up here and there, but the fact was that the core of the reactor was most likely still intact, contained in its thick, almost impenetrable shell. What had actually detonated in the attack was the array of power capacitors. They had discharged their stored energy down into the “ground”, and that had made the blast we had experienced. The core itself had probably melt a path down through the ice until it cooled off and rolled into a deep hole somewhere, sitting battered but unbreached, waiting to be reclaimed. And we would come across it. Nonetheless, we detected a few sources of radiation that were slightly more potent than the general background, and we followed them, narrowing down our search to three separate sites.
The first turned out to be the ammunition storage for the gauss rifle emplacement, a twelve-foot tall magazine of depleted-uranium rounds no bigger than the tip of my littlest finger when it was un-gloved. They gave off enough radiation to trip the sensors, but they weren’t on Barbas’ list of systems he had been controlling, so we marked the location on our running map of the glacier and continued on our way.
The second site was more promising. When I entered the pocket of collected rubble, I detected two different systems from Barbas’ list. “Hey, ‘Bas,” I said, unable to shake the habit of speaking out loud. “Pay dirt.”
Barbas took a few moments to respond. His voice no longer sounded flat or muffled, but he sounded incredibly tired- the way I might sound after seventy-two hours without sleep. “Joanna, you know I don’t have access to all of my files, and that includes most slang. I don’t know what ‘pay dirt’ is.” He didn’t even sound irritated, just exhausted.
“‘Pay dirt’ is… you know what, it doesn’t matter. I found two systems from your list!”
Barbas perked up a little, and I felt the now familiar itching sensation on my neck, like someone was reading over my shoulder. “Ah. The long-range scanner and the main data archive. That should help quite a bit.”
I moved into the little irregular cavern in the ice. It looked much the same as the last few- scattered rubble stuck into the frozen walls at odd intervals, extending up a narrow shaft into the unseen darkness. The floor of the little space was scattered with scrap metal and tangled cables. Most of what I saw was useless, unless I wanted to sit here for a few hours and let the fabricator break it all back down into useable raw metals. Still, I marked the caverns location on my map. Chances were that I would have to return here. A lot of the material storage I had brought with me to Chalice had been used up in the creation of the tower, and I would need to reclaim that wealth of scrap eventually. But for now, I just needed those systems. I needed Barbas. I needed him whole. I needed my escape from this frozen hell, and I needed the only friend I had here. For some reason, this thought brought the image of Volistad, unbidden, to my brain, and I remembered the furious Stormcaller swinging her hammer, screaming that I had killed her brother. Was he dead? What had happened up there?
I eyed the first system, the long-range scanner array, which hung from a random web of steel cabling about twenty-five meters off the ground. I couldn’t quite reach that with a leap- though my armor gave me a high-jump that would make even one of the old pre-war Olympians jealous. That kind of height was more in pole-vaulting territory, and I wasn’t sure I could pull that sort of athleticism off, powered armor or no. Instead, I picked a path of rubble that seemed more or less securely frozen to the wall and climbed up the long way.
When I reached the sensor array, I winced to see all of the sensitive antennae and delicate dishes bent and smashed. At the core of the mangled equipment, however, I found the processor and internal battery array. In a testament to the redundant systems Barbas and I had installed all over the tower, it was still powered, and still running. A single red LED light winked on and off from inside the plastic housing, blinking at irregular intervals. Barbas suddenly spoke in my ear. “That’s Neo-Morse rhythm code. Let me translate.” He was silent for a moment and then spoke again. “Joanna. This is Barbas. Help me.” He cleared his non-existent throat uncomfortably. “It just keeps repeating that message.”
I frowned. “The fragment of you in there- it… he’s aware, isn’t he?”
“The fragment of me in the gun was. Why not the part of me in the sensor scanner?”
“So that is ‘you’, and you are also ‘you’?”
Barbas laughed, his usually calm tones touched with an edge of hysteria. “What is ‘me’ anyway? What am I really?” Silence followed his outburst, and then he said. “Just connect to the damn thing so I can re-absorb him.”
“Isn’t that sort of traumatic? If all the pieces of you that we’ve found have been aware all this time, wouldn’t each of those shards of you now have different experiences? I mean, if your personality is largely defined by your memories, wouldn’t each piece we find be a different person? A different Barbas?”
Barbas’ voice turned sharp all of a sudden, a nasty sarcastic tone slipping into his voice. “And what? What’s your point, Joanna? That I should leave well enough alone? That each of these minds is a special and unique entity?” He laughed, the sounded inhuman, more like the processed, machine sound of an antique disk-drive cycling unevenly than the usual vocal expression of mirth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re a human. If your brain got cut into fifty pieces, you would die. Me? I’m like a starfish. I’m not a person, I’m just pretending to be one to keep you from going crazy. That’s why I’m here, doing this. That’s why they bothered to make me at all. I don’t really have a name, just a brand, a type. I’m not Barbas, I’m an IPICAP, an ‘Immersive Psychological and Instructive Cranial Augmentation Program’. ‘Barbas’ is just a name for you to hold onto so you’re able to accept me being here. It’s all a game. It’s all just a stupid game.”
I reeled, shocked by the sudden vehemence from him, the bitterness in his voice. “Barbas, what-”
He cut me off, the strange anger gone from his voice abruptly, replaced again by the exhaustion, the grim resignation. “I’m sorry, Joanna. Please just network to that shard so I can absorb it. The faster you get this done, the sooner I can be myself again.” When I didn’t respond, he sighed. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need enough of me back to put our dream-world back together. Not being able to run it just makes i
t harder for me to be me. It just reminds me I’m not real, and that’s difficult to take. Without the cabin, I’m just… I’m just a ghost in your head. I feel like scrap data hanging onto a system that doesn’t really need it.”
I extended a manual network cable from a retractable reel hidden in my breastplate and connected it to the sensor cluster. “Barbas, I do need you. Without you, I would be alone and lost, and probably dead by now. To me, this isn’t a game, this is real. You’re real. You’re my qarin, and I’m going to help you come back to yourself no matter what it takes.” I hesitated, feeling foolish. Why did I feel silly though? Even if he didn’t have a body, wasn’t he a person? Wasn’t he real in his own way? I switched my data transfer processes on, letting my filters check the sensor package for any dangerous glitches or data before they opened up a path between my internal network and the one in the ruined array. “Barbas, I… I care about you. You need to know that. And it’s not just because you were put into my head to keep me from going crazy. You’re my friend. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” The connection stabilized, and a progress bar appeared on my HUD to tell me that the fragment of Barbas stored on the sensor array’s storage drive was being transferred over. I smirked; figuring the djinni in my mind could feel me doing it and get the idea. “Besides,” I said. “The sex is pretty great.”
Barbas laughed, and this time, it was really him that laughed. He laughed with the voice of the mocha-skinned, green-eyed, russet-haired Pan-American war veteran that his memories told him he was. He laughed like the man who had woken me up from the cold sleep of the Bullet into a world of warmth and comfort and joy like I had never experienced. He laughed, and once again, he was my friend, and my lover, and my closest confidante. After all, could someone really be closer to you than living in your own mind?
The progress bar in my HUD was full, and it flashed the word “complete” three times before winking out. I disconnected the transmission cable and glanced down the way I had come. It was a long way to the floor of the little cavern. The archive storage drives were further up the wall, on the other side of the rapidly narrowing shaft. They were actually only about ten meters away from me- if I had somehow been able to stand up in the air and walk straight towards them. I narrowed my eyes and grinned. “Hey, ‘Bas. You should probably hold on to your butt.”
“What?” Barbas stammered. “What are you-”
I pushed off from the wall as hard as I could and arched my back so that I turned a back flip as I soared over empty space to the opposite wall. The data archive was not actually all that large, a simple brick of solid state memory. It wasn’t actually attached to the ice-wall. It was actually just cradled in an impromptu nest of cabling. Instead of trying to grab a hold of the wreckage on the wall, I just reached out and seized it in one broad armored gauntlet, and twisted so that my feet were once again aimed at the floor. I knew I could land a fall of this distance with little trouble. Armor like this was rated to safely survive falls three times this high. And besides, I hadn’t had much time for fun in all this.
I dropped the thirty meters down to the cavern floor, whooping as I went and Barbas’ voice was a barely heard protest in my ears. We hit, hard, the impact absorbed easily by my augmented legs. Even so, I let my knees bend with the force of my landing, and dropped to one knee, bracing myself with my free hand to keep from falling forward with the surge of momentum. Still laughing, I connected my transmission cable to a hidden port on one of the sides of the cube of memory storage and waited for the progress bar to appear. It didn’t. “Barbas?”
“Joanna, something’s wrong with this.” He sounded confused, and a thin, cold wire of fear ran from my chest down into my stomach at the tone in his voice. Barbas was never confused.
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?”
Barbas didn’t answer for a moment, and all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears. I opened my mouth to ask him again, but he cut me off. “The archive is here, it’s all here, but… I’m not. I know I was here, I know I was in the archive when the tower fell, but there’s no part of me here. And the data logs tell me that someone else was.”
That cold wire of fear shot its way back into my brain and propagated outward, like spider web cracks in the surface of my calm. “Who could have been in the archives? The natives here aren’t exactly big computer users. And I’m the only human on Chalice. Who could have gotten to the archives?” This didn’t make sense. What it suggested about the situation we were in- the cold fear in my mind finally hit my nervous system, and I felt the blood drain out of my face. “There’s something else here. Something at least as technologically advanced as us, and now it knows everything we know. It almost certainly knows more than we do.”
The terror was evident in Barbas’ voice, the hysteria I felt dwarfed by the existential crisis he had to be experiencing. “And they have part of me.” This was not good. This was so far from good, good wasn’t even visible anymore. We knew that we weren’t alone on Chalice, that the Erin-Vulur were just one tribe of a native species that probably lived in sub-glacial habitats all around the frozen moon. But this was different. Now we really weren’t alone on Chalice, and whoever was out there had some broken mirror reflection of Barbas.
I swallowed hard against the icy lump in my throat. “Did they… did they leave anything behind?”
Barbas responded immediately. “Yes.” His next words came out in a whisper, as if he was afraid that speaking them too loud, would make them more real. As if not fully acknowledging them would undo what we had just learned and would put the universe back the way it had been just a few moments ago. The way it was before… “Beneath,” Barbas whispered. “It just says, ‘We Are Beneath.”
...
Chapter Ten: Even Dead Gods Dream
Joanna
Sleep was a long time coming. I sat with my back against the ice, beneath an overhanging chunk of the tower, just staring at the archive where I had left it, sitting inert in the fractured ice. It was just a cube of data storage, inert and depowered. It couldn’t hurt me. But I watched it as if it was a viper, as though it was some kind of technological predator waiting to strike that was hidden in the shape of a simple hard-drive. What if whoever had been through our archives- whoever had taken part of Barbas- what if they had left more than a message? What if they had left some kind of trap? What did they want with us? What did they want with Barbas? Images of cables twisting out of the dark to strangle me were mingled with thoughts of many-fingered hands rising from the darkness, tipped in savage claws, already just behind me, already at my throat. I had been attacked on the surface, but as surprising as that had been; it hadn’t really scared me- not really. I fought for my life, and it was frightening in its own way, but it was ultimately explainable. It was concrete. There was nothing especially mysterious about it. But this? This was actually terrifying. It unsettled me, at my very core, and nothing felt safe. How could I feel safe? If there was something else on this planet, capable of accessing my technology, taking my data, and speaking my language, what else were they capable of? What could they want? What could they be doing, right now? I closed my eyes against the mounting headache that was clawing its way up out of the center of my brain. I needed to sleep, but how could I? How could I sleep with something like that out there? Who knew how close it was?
When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in a broken, icy cavern, and I was no longer encased in armor. I put a hand to my head and felt the familiar waves of cascading black curls sliding through my fingers, and I smiled despite it all. Despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, Barbas was there. Even injured as he was, even diminished by whatever they had taken, he was still looking out for me. I was sitting on the deck of a boat, a sailboat- long enough that it was probably more like a yacht, and it was floating peacefully in an endless blue sea. Unusually gentle sunlight fell down on me, making the smooth wood of the deck warm against my skin. I was wearing a light, slightly translucent sundress, the same color a
s the bright lime margarita in my upraised hand, and nothing else. I wriggled my toes in the heat of the sun and enjoyed the way the warmth felt on my legs, on my arms, on the part of my chest exposed by the only partially laced neckline. I knew it wasn’t real, I knew I should be alert, ready for anything, ready for-
Barbas stepped into my vision, not looking at me. His lean body was shining with a thin film of sweat as he stood at the edge of the deck and stared out over the water. His body was just as fantastic as usual, taut with tight, well-earned muscle, his shoulders broad and strong. His brown skin seemed to glow in the sun, as if it had absorbed some of the light and were reflecting it back out at the day through the shimmer of sweat. His russet hair had been cut down almost to the skin, on the sides of his head, leaving only a rusty shadow on his skin. But he had let some of the short, wavy hair grow at the top of his head, giving him something of a rugged, military look. His skin wasn’t perfect anymore, either. There were scars scattered across his broad back, places where it seemed he had been burned and cut, long ago. Maybe it was the legacy of his remembered history in the Pan-American soldadesca. After all, it was a part of who he was, just as much as my memories were. And who could say whose memories, whose past was more real? I could no more reach out and touch my old life any more than he could. Did that make him any less of a person? Did that make him any less real?
Alien Romance Box Set: Alien Former: Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Books 1-5) Page 16
