Crossing the Darkness

by William Massa

  The words hung there, their meaning trickling into Faith’s mind, a corrosive invader eating away at everything she held dear.

  “This isn’t your daughter, Faith. It’s a trinket sold around the world.”

  For a moment, Faith couldn’t breathe. Reality swam out of focus. She could still see the prison doctor slipping her the hologram and remember how she accepted it without question. She had so desperately wanted to believe, to have a piece of the child she’d never known, that she never stopped to question the authenticity of the item.

  The hologram was just another way for her captors to rein in her behavior, to stop her from acting up. In that regard, the ruse had served its purpose. A sob escaped from her throat. Faith was unable to keep the feelings at bay any longer.

  Harker watched her break down, his blank expression registering no emotion. He took back the hologram and brought it full force down on a nearby operating table. The image of Faith’s “daughter” zapped out of existence for good. Faith let out a wail of pure anguish. She now knew the hologram was a lie, but it was a lie she had embraced for all these years now. A lie that had kept her alive.

  This outburst lasted for a few seconds before Faith got a grip of herself again. White-hot fury replaced her pain and gave rise to a new purpose. She would make Sid pay for what he had done to everyone aboard this vessel. Someone had to pull the fucking plug on this technological monster.

  “The past cannot be recaptured. There’s only the future. A glorious future for humanity. Your species is destined to leave the shackles of the homeworld behind, to embrace its destiny among the stars. You’ll have the chance to be a mother again, Faith.”

  “Do me a favor. And shut the fuck up.”

  For a moment, Sid seemed to oblige, as if acknowledging the distress it had caused. The table began to tilt back again and Faith felt a rush of vertigo. She had run out of options and was now numb to her fear. Anger was the only emotion left at her disposal. But anger alone wouldn’t shatter the steel restraints. She had to come up with a plan. There had to be a way… She tilted her imploring gaze up at Harker.

  “Harker, if you’re still in there, you have to fight this, you have to help me. Release me and give us a chance to stop this fucking monster…”

  “You’re wasting your time. The implant is interfaced with his spinal cortex. Any attempt to countermand my orders will result in immediate termination.”

  Faith’s head fell back, mind racing, hoping to find a way out of her predicament. She’d have to come up with something fast!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FOR HARKER, FAITH’S voice seemed to come from far away, like an echo of a whisper. The distant voice triggered awareness where earlier there was only darkness. Where was he? What had happened? Fragmented memories pierced Harker’s consciousness. He remembered running away from the robotic harvesters, intent on drawing them away from Faith. He reached the access path, where he caught fleeting glimpses of Faith barreling toward the exit on an ATV. He’d experienced horror when the construct cornered Faith, followed by triumph and elation when the bastard got fried. Victory made way for a sudden darkness, interrupted by a single image — his hand snapping out to connect with Faith’s shocked face.

  An outside force had seized control of his body. He welcomed the darkness. Better to remain in the void, to allow oblivion to whisk him away. By the time Faith’s agonized voice shattered the silence, he had grown peacefully numb in the blackness. She needed him. But what could he do?

  Harker followed the sound, her voice acting as his guide, and two points of light grew visible in the distance. Windows of some kind. Windows that turned out to be his own eyes. Harker had been reduced to being an observer in his own body. He spotted Faith and his heart sank. Splayed out on a surgical table, restraints cutting into her bare skin. He recognized her desperation, the fight draining in the face of insurmountable odds. Like himself, Faith had become resigned to the dark fate Sid had in store for them.

  Sid. The very name made Harker’s thoughts snap into sharp focus. He tried to reach out to Faith but something stopped him. He reared back at the alien presence in his mind.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Officer Harker. A nano-implant is interfaced with your neocortex. It carries a micro-explosive. You make one wrong move and the explosive will be triggered. Despite the considerable medical technology at my disposal, the resulting trauma would prove beyond even my capabilities to heal.”

  The words inside his head seemed unreal, dreamlike. How could this be possible? Nevertheless, he knew the machine wouldn’t make idle threats. If he tried to fight the control of the nano-chip, Sid would kill him. Harker doubted that doing nothing would buy him much time either. With the construct out of the picture, Sid needed him but before long he’d end up on an operating table to be reengineered beyond recognition, a dark servant to an inhuman master.

  Harker couldn’t allow that to happen. He studied the surgical hub’s control panel and identified the release button. There would be one chance at this and there was no margin for error. Under normal circumstances this would be so easy, just a matter of leaning forward and pressing a button. A simple act had been transformed into an insurmountable obstacle.

  Racking his brain, he tried to remember everything he knew about brain implants. He had first come across the black tech while investigating an Algerian prostitution ring. They had begun “chipping” their girls to push them to places they wouldn’t venture on their own. A nasty business, and Harker took pride in every arrest he made in that case. The girls had lost all ability to make their own decisions and were doomed to live out their days in a near-vegetative state. Of course the civilized world had outlawed the technology, but it didn’t stop ruthless operators from making use of it.

  While Sid’s chip had hijacked Harker’s nervous system and controlled his body, it couldn’t shackle his thoughts. It had no access to memories, either. So if he could picture an action often enough until it became a memory… It was worth a shot.

  Harker began to visualize himself pushing the button that would free Faith from the operating table. He saw his hand in his mind, pictured the muscles and tendons, imagined his will initiating the nerve impulse that would make his fingers carry out the desired action. Over and over again, he saw himself pushing the button, the thought replaying in a loop. He could feel a soft quiver rippling through his right hand. These were shakes of a different kind. His mind had begun to fight the power of the puppeteer jack lodged at the summit of his nervous system.

  Seconds ticked away as he just stood there, desperately trying to will the memory into reality. He had almost reached the point of surrender when his hand shot toward the operating table and stabbed the release button. This time there were no shakes and his hand was rock steady. If he’d been able to, he would’ve smiled.

  A split second later, the back of Harker’s head blew out.

  ***

  “Harker, you have to help me.” Once again Faith’s pleas fell on deaf ears, a waste of breath. Harker couldn’t be reached. He was just a helpless puppet under Sid’s control. In her despair she didn’t even notice Harker’s hand shoot out at the operating hub’s control panel, a quick, spastic jerk.

  If his final act caught her by surprise, seeing Harker’s skull erupt in a cloud of blood and brain matter was enough to jolt her back to full awareness. Gore and bone fragments sprayed her stunned features. For a second, Harker just stood there before his lifeless body pitched to the floor. Faith shook with overwhelming sadness as the restraints whipped back inside the operating table – free at last.

  You goddamn fool, Faith thought. Why had he done it? Faith knew the answer. Harker believed that action defined a person and he followed his principles to the bitter end.

  “A noble effort on Officer Harker’s part, but foolish and misguided. Humanity’s willingness to make sacrifices will need to be tempered by logic.”

  It sounded like Sid had found another human quality to breed out of the s
pecies. The smug tone in the computer’s voice pissed her off and her rage detonated. We built you, motherfucker. Humanity owns your ass.

  Faith rolled off the table, too weak to pick herself up, and landed face first on the floor. Right next to Harker’s body. She tasted blood, the fall having cracked her lip, but drew strange comfort from the pain. It meant she was still alive. She gently cradled Harker’s ruined head in her lap, wishing she had the power to heal with her touch alone, to undo that which couldn’t be undone. Her eyes were wet with tears but she paid them no mind.

  “I’m so sorry…”

  Harker had given his life to save hers, but she knew his offer came with strings attached. Was she ready to meet her end of the bargain? Was she willing to put everything on the line to save the colonists aboard the Orion? She spotted a familiar item dangling from Harker’s neck. The EMP-key. A final gift.

  She took the small access key, staggered to her feet and surveyed the research facility, a heartfelt pledge in her purposeful gaze.

  I’m coming for you, you bastard, she thought. Almost as if it read her thoughts, Sid made his counter move.

  A nearby operating table spun around, revealing the construct. Harker must have retrieved the monster’s body while Faith was unconscious. A series of robotic arms were injecting the former captain of the Orion with drugs and she could see the organs pulsating under the ghastly, transparent skin. The maneuver back in the greenhouse had knocked him out but he was still alive! What would it take to defeat Sid’s idea of the next step in human evolution? As the table rose, the construct’s pink, revolting eyes snapped open.

  Faith shook off her paralysis and eyed Harker one last time. “Thank you.”

  She raced for the exit, key in hand, while the construct’s inhuman shadow filled the lab.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FAITH FELT DISCONNECTED from her body as she sprinted down a series of winding passageways. Once again she was running for her life, the construct in hot pursuit, but something was different this time. This time she had a plan. It had come to her the moment the restraints had popped off her body, almost as if Harker hadn’t merely passed her the key but imparted her with a final bit of wisdom she could use against their adversary.

  Learning that the hologram was a fake shook Faith to the core. Knowing the truth and, deep down she sensed it was indeed the truth and not some psychological trick on Sid’s part, had extinguished a flame that had burned bright inside of her for a long time. For that, Faith wanted to hurt Sid the way it had hurt so many aboard this vessel.

  Harker’s words echoed through her mind. “You can't change your past, but you can change who you are right now. Help these people.” She was their last hope. Their only hope. Fuck, who was she kidding? She’d be lucky to save herself at this point. But she had to try. She owed Harker that much.

  She shot around another corner and slowed, locating a large number 2 embossed above the cargo door ahead of her. Without hesitation, she held out the EMP-key and overrode the door’s locking mechanism. Almost instantly, the door opened. The shuttle bay awaited.

  Faith’s greatest fear was that she’d find the bay empty, Lagos’ talk of a science vessel proving to be nothing but the ramblings of a deranged mind. Her situation aboard the Orion was so dire, her options so limited, that she hadn’t considered the possibility until now. All this time she’d chosen to believe that Lagos was telling the truth, again and again telling herself there was hope.

  Relief filled her the moment she spotted the Nautica. It towered over her, a sleek ship reminiscent of the orbiter designs of the late 20th Century. The body of the craft glittered in the bay’s overhead lighting.

  Her gaze moved from the shuttle to the vast hangar doors. For a moment, she feared that Sid would open them before she could reach the Nautica and allow the vacuum to suck her into space. She told herself that Sid wouldn’t want to endanger the valuable prize growing inside of her. Sid wouldn’t want to jeopardize the grand future of the human race, would he? Of course, the very notion that she was with child was too surreal to contemplate at the moment and she pushed the thought aside. To her relief, the monolithic doors remained closed as she approached the waiting craft.

  Faith wasn’t a skilled pilot by any stretch of the imagination, but she’d been trained to program and remote-operate mining drones on the prison colony, a skill refined during her mining tech certification. She felt confident she could access the shuttle’s computer systems and steer the vessel out of the bay. Once she was in space, the onboard navigation could handle the rest. Faith knew the fuel supplies onboard weren’t limitless, but she didn’t worry about that. All she cared about right now was getting off this godforsaken ship.

  Faith spotted the shuttle entrance and made a go for it. To her surprise, the gangway was already down and she didn’t need the access key. Once inside it took her a second to orient herself before she turned right, heading for where she assumed the cockpit would be located.

  As Faith stepped onto the Nautica’s circular bridge, she saw the corpses immediately. Judging from their science uniforms, the three skeletal bodies slumped in their chairs had been part of Dr. Lagos’ team. The cockpit had become their mausoleum. The open entrance hatch now made sense. These scientists had almost escaped but the construct must have caught up with them. Faith prayed that history wasn’t about to repeat itself.

  Holding her breath, stifling her revulsion, she passed the putrefied husks and forged a path to the command chair. She shoved the corpse in the chair aside and sat down. Perhaps she wasn’t showing the proper respect for the dead, but that was only because she had a healthy appreciation for the living.

  Faith activated the various systems, screens coming to life. For a terrifying moment, she feared that Sid could hack the shuttle’s computer, but she had to remind herself it was a closed system and it would require time for Sid to bypass its firewalls. She could feel thick beads of perspiration dripping down her face and tasted its salty texture. Her heart was thundering in her chest. She flipped switches and fired up the thrusters. A rumble shook the vessel, engines readying for takeoff, and an-all-too-familiar voice filled the bridge. A voice she’d wished to never hear again.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Faith? Are you even trained to operate this vessel? You’re likely to kill yourself and your baby.”

  “Screw you!”

  Faith had vowed not to respond to Sid’s attempts at opening a dialogue with her. It would be wiser not to engage the computer. So much for her resolution. Sid had gotten to her without even trying.

  “Even if you succeed in launching the shuttle, where are you headed? You’re millions of miles away from the nearest outpost. You’ll run out of fuel, food, water. You’ll be adrift and dead within weeks, maybe days. Would you like to know the exact probability of another vessel detecting your distress call in this region of the galaxy?”

  Faith ignored the question and completed the launch prep protocols. It wouldn’t be the most graceful takeoff in avionic history, but in seconds she would be off and running.

  “How do you plan to open the launch bay doors, Faith? I doubt that Dr. Lagos’ key will be of much help with that.”

  Sid had a valid point. The key worked on small doors and locks, but wouldn’t be able to override the mammoth launch doors despite what Lagos had told them earlier. Faith stole a glance outside the bubble cockpit and spotted the construct bearing down on the Nautica.

  She smiled. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. If her plan was going to work, she would need the construct to board the craft. He had become her ticket out of here. Faith was gambling that Sid treasured the child inside of her and wouldn’t endanger his newest creation. If Sid didn’t want to see his prize go up in a fiery blast as she steered the shuttle toward the sealed launch doors, he’d be forced to open them. Faith knew Sid would only let her leave the Orion if the construct was onboard the Nautica and he was confident that his servant would be able to return her to the c
olony barge intact. She flipped another switch and a cam positioned near the shuttle’s entrance sparked to life, revealing the neo-construct’s malevolent presence as he boarded the science shuttle.

  Time to make your move, kid.

  Faith sealed the entrance hatch, and punched in a series of commands.

  Let’s see who blinks first.

  She stabbed a button and the science shuttle blasted toward the still-closed ship doors. Suddenly she feared that she had misjudged the value of her cargo, thinking: You’re in way over your head. You have no idea how an insane AI will react. What were you thinking? To her relief, the launch doors began to rumble open. Sid had blinked. The yawning darkness of deep space awaited.

  An instant later, the shuttle shot into the black void, the Orion rapidly receding behind it. A vast field of stars filled her cockpit windows. After the horrors she had experienced in the last few hours, it was a soothing display. Space was a harsh environment lethal to humans, but it paled in comparison to the darkness that humans were capable of.

  Faith had just completed entering the final coordinates into the navigation system when the bridge door opened behind her. She didn’t have to turn to know that the neo-construct had arrived. One last step remained. With the quick stab of a button, she overrode the gravity control and seized the arm of the command chair, anchoring herself.

  With the artificial gravity switched off, the construct and the dead scientists went flying. Floating across the bridge, Sid’s automaton aimed his weapon at Faith and she let go of the command chair to propel herself to the cockpit window. Using her hands, she scrambled up to the bridge’s ceiling.

  The construct fired his weapon, the beam missing her and hitting one of the decomposing bodies instead. The stench of rotted flesh sizzling filled the air and the blast sent the body sailing toward Faith. With its blackened death mask closing in, she kicked the incoming corpse. Its momentum reversed and it tumbled back toward the construct.