Project BTB

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Project BTB Page 9

by E. G. Ross


  "It's not like that," Dan started to protest.

  "The hell it's not!" I said, hissing the words out. I felt the anger rising inside me like a snake uncoiling to strike. I forced it down. I made myself sip some coffee.

  "Okay," I said. "And if it works? Then what happens to me?"

  "If it works, you're cured," Jefferson said brightly, spreading both hands wide and grinning. "You're not the first, you know. From past experience, we know that if you come fully back to your original personality, you are also quite stable from that point on. It's as though the MI life speeds up emotional maturity. You should be fine. Just fine."

  I nodded and looked back and forth between the two of them. I wondered how many things they hadn't told me. That morning, before they came to my room, I'd already discovered one big one.

  "And my options will be?"

  "To continue your work here, of course," Jefferson said, as though it was obvious.

  "What if I don't want to?"

  "Huh? But why wouldn't you?"

  "Well, for one thing, if your history of my history is true, it sounds like I've spent most of my adult life ensconced in your little government project's cage. Maybe I'd like to see the big wide world. Try something else. Live a little."

  "But we thought, with your fantastic brain, that the challenges here would be -"

  "Irresistible?"

  "Er, yes. I suppose so."

  "Maybe you've lived in this goldfish bowl too long, General."

  "Hey, now just a minute, son! That's uncalled for. This crap about military men being nothing but robots to their profession is a lot of thunderclap!"

  "It's not a comment on the military," I replied. "It's an observation of living things. Sometimes they like to explore outside their cage. Sometimes they don't. I do. You don't."

  "It's not a friggin' cage!" Jefferson barked.

  "If it's not, then are you saying that, assuming I recover, I'm free to go?"

  "Yes," Dan said.

  "No!" Jefferson contradicted him. "You're too damned valuable, son! The country needs you! You're the first of your kind. You're a whole, frackin' new species! Your type may not turn up again for a hundred thousand years. Maybe never. You're the race'sfuture ! You've got to pass on your genes and - " He snapped his mouth shut.

  "Oh? Sounds like you intend to use me as a stud in some kind of eugenics program, General," I said carefully.

  Jefferson got up and went to the coffee machine, saying over his shoulder, "Dan, try to talk some sense into him, will you?"

  Dan looked at me and started to speak. "Listen to me, ol' Bud, okay?"

  "Hold on a second," I said to Dan, vigorously rubbing my face with my hands. "I'm a bit light-headed. My stomach feels like someone filled it with dishwater. I think my breakfast is rebelling."

  "Youdo look a little pale," Dan said, cocking his head and looking me over.

  "I can barely keep my eyes open."

  "The pullout process from MI conditioning can be uneven," he noted, reaching for my arm to help me up. "We'd better get you back to your room. You need rest."

  "Problem?" Jefferson asked, returning with his coffee, his eyebrows raised in inquiry.

  "Dr. Jones doesn't feel so hot. I'm going to get him to bed and have Lois look him over. We don't want a relapse on our hands."

  "Certainly not," Jefferson said conjuring up a thin smile. "We've got way too much invested in you, son. Besides, I've got duties chewin' at my shoes. Let's call it a day. We'll pick up again tomorrow morning, Dr. Jones. See you here at eight-hundred hours, sharp."

  "Yeah, sure," I said weakly, holding both hands over my gut.

  Dan got me settled in my room and then took off, begging other commitments. I figured he probably didn't want to hang around to see what course my stomach rebellion might take. In my memory-such as it was-Dan had always been a bit squeamish. I didn't blame him. I was the same way.

  No more than a minute later, Lois came in.

  She approached the bed, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Overloaded you, did they?"

  "Maybe," I said warily.

  "Uh-huh," she replied, taking my pulse. She put a palm on my forehead, looked closely at my eyes, then stuck a thermometer in my mouth. "Back in three minutes."

  "Rigfft," I said over the thermometer.

  When she returned, she locked the door behind her.

  She read the thermometer, shook it back down, then said, "Hmmm, no fever at all. You're not sweating. Your eyes aren't dilated or bloodshot. Your pulse is normal. Your skin looks and feels fine for a man who's been through what you've endured"

  "So?"

  She folded her arms and looked at me a long moment. The corners of her mouth curled slightly upward and she said, "Eddie, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're faking it."

  I expressed mild outrage. "Why the frack would I want to do that?"

  "You tell me. You're the one with everything to lose. I figure you'd probably try almost anything. I would in your position."

  "I'm not sure I follow you."

  She shrugged, pursed her lips, and kept looking at me.

  "Uh, by the way, what's your full name?" I asked, changing the subject. "Or do I call you Nurse Lois?"

  "No, you don't. The last name is Darnid. Like 'Darn it' with a 'd' on the end. Clang any gongs in your head?"

  "Maybe a small one, Darnid," I said.

  "It'sDoctor Darnid-but you've always called me 'Lo.'"

  "I thought you were a nurse."

  "In all the psychological glory the Army could muster, they concluded that this nurse get-up would be less intimidating to you, more attractive," she said. "You've never liked medical doctors. Perhaps you recall that."

  "Not really."

  She glanced down at her uniform and then, looking straight into my eyes, mischievously undid the top button. It wasn't enough to show me much, but it had an effect.

  My tongue felt ridiculously dry.

  "Were they right?" she asked, undoing the next button. "About me being more attractive?"

  I swallowed hard, looked at her full figure with admiration, and admitted, "Yeah, they were. In spades. But why would they care?"

  She didn't unfasten any more buttons.

  She dropped her eyes, let her hands fall to her sides, and said, "They were hoping it would be therapeutic, because you and I were-" she suddenly broke off and covered her mouth, turning slightly away, but not before I saw a tear run down her cheek.

  "What the-?" I said, bewildered by the mood flip.

  I automatically reached out to her and when I touched her hand, she all but fell into my arms. We sprawled awkwardly, half lying and half sitting on the bed together. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but awkward moments usually aren't. I made the best of it as she let her tears flood, punctuated by waves of sobs. I uttered what comfort I could, but to her credit, it didn't take her long to pull it together.That clanged a memory gong. Lo had never been much for extended emotional indulgences. It was something I'd always respected.

  She sat up slowly, groaned, grabbed a tissue out of the box near the bed, blew her nose twice, and then turned purposefully toward me.

  "Eddie," she said. "Do youreally not remember what we were to each other?"

  "Dan has hinted that we were a minor item. But he hasn't exactly encouraged me to pursue anything with you. I have the impression he wants me to think it was more you than me."

  "A minoritem ? Sounds like a spare part for a car."

  "Hey, I didn't mean-"

  "Oh, never mind. Look at this," she said, reaching into her pocket. "Hold out your hand, Mr. Megabrain."

  I hesitated a moment, then did it. She dropped something small and heavy into it. It was a gold ring.

  "That," she said, "is the engagement ring you gave me the day before they stuck you into that skull-scrubbing machine."

  I looked back and forth between her and the ring several times.

  "Lo, I'm sorry. It doesn't fish anything out of the well."
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  "Maybe this will," she said, gently cupping my face in her hands and giving me a long, tender kiss.

  If I was the frog-prince, she was the real princess.

  Itdid bring things back-slowly at first, and then with a surge of images and emotions-dates we'd had, kisses and snuggles, video movies and popcorn, a classical music concert, an art gallery tour, long discussions about any and everything, and finally, my presenting her with the ring and asking her to marry me. And her saying yes.

  "Well," I whispered hoarsely, "apparently I'm in love with you."

  The tears came again as she nodded, "Yes, damn it, you sure 'apparently' are!"

  She pushed me onto my back and kissed me again, longer this time. I tasted tears on her lips.

  After a minute or so, I had to come up for air. I sat up and so did she, her eyes dreamy.

  "I just remembered something else, Lo. Our vow. The not-'til-we're-married one. I promised you that, didn't I?"

  She shook her head, laughed softly, and nodded, her dark hair bobbing. "Yes, yes, you did! God, Eddie, it's good to have you back!"

  She smiled at me with those startling, cobalt blue eyes, gave me a quick kiss, got up, straightened her uniform self-consciously, and said, "I intend to see that we both keep that vow. I know celibacy is old-fashioned here in the 21st century, but-"

  "It's a matter of honor," I finished.

  I'd heard her say it a dozen times, usually related to an event such my hands wandering toward forbidden places.

  "I think it's fine, Lo, really."

  She smiled teasingly, "Fine, but frustrating, huh?"

  "Well-I won't deny it. Hey, I'm a natural man," I said, indicating a prominent protrusion under my hospital gown.

  "That you seem to be," she said, rebuttoning the two buttons on her fake nurse's uniform. She sighed. "At least you are when it comes to bedroom thoughts."

  "I detect an undercurrent of the unspoken," I said.

  She sat on the edge of the bed in a no-monkey-business posture. There would be no further spontaneous wrestling.

  She patted my hand chastely, and said, "But not exactly."

  "Not exactly what?"

  "A natural man. You're not. You know that. They've explained it to you, and as far as they went, they didn't exaggerate. Upstairs, Eddie, you truly are something special. At least the first we've ever detected. I think General Jefferson is right. The Lord is trying something new on this planet, and you're it."

  "You sound serious."

  "I was. I am." Taking both my hands she said urgently, "Listen to me, Eddie. I've disabled the monitoring station into this room for about another fifteen minutes. It's running a digital recording of you sleeping last night when I was in here checking on you. They know I'm in here, but they don't know we're talking."

  "One of the perks of being both the med-chief and experienced in security apparatus," I noted, recalling more of her background, which was amazingly varied. Lo was no cookies-and-saucepans girl.

  "Yes, exactly. Pay attention, Eddie. I've got something to tell you that no one else on this base should hear, and I don't have long."

  "Shoot," I said, my attitude sobering up as I saw the stern look that had clouded her face.

  "Eddie, they're not planning on letting you out of here. Ever. There won't be a meeting tomorrow morning. That was a ruse to lull you. They're going to put you back under the MI tonight, after you fall asleep. Oh, they'll feed you pleasant dreams and keep you reasonably healthy. But you'll never wake up again. Anyway, not for a long, long time. Not if they can help it."

  "Humph," I snorted. "I suppose that should surprise me, but it doesn't. That's why I faked feeling bad. I could sense thatsomething was up and wanted to get away. I had to give myself breathing room to mull the situation over, to let that warning light in the back of my brain add some detailed code to its message."

  "You always had good intuition," Lo observed. "It's not just your logic circuits that run on warp drive."

  "Yeah, well, despite what everyone says about my mental capacities, thinking still requires time and I do make mistakes. Right now, I don't feel like I can afford any."

  I shifted my weight to stretch.

  "However, I can't say that I understand what Dan's doing, Lo. Now there's a guy making a big mistake. Can't he see through Jefferson's shenanigans? I thought Dan had more of an ethical compass."

  "Don't blame Dan too much, Eddie-and don't judge him on the basis of your exalted opinions gained under the MI virtual personality. He's not like that. Except for being a bit brighter than normal, in most ways Dan's an ordinary guy. Don't expect heroics from him. His hands are tied. He's a loyal soldier and has his orders. I'm afraid some of them have included deceiving you. It's Jefferson calling the shots. I seriously doubt that Dan will cross him. Oh, I'm not saying Dan likes this bitter stew. He doesn't. It tastes bad to him. He is-or was-your friend, although not as close as that MI program led you to believe. He likes you, but I don't think I'd count on his crawling through razor wire for you. Even so, the whole thing is abrading his conscience, like some kind of emotional strep germ."

  "He's in too deep to back out."

  She nodded. "Tragic, but I know him. He's a nice guy when he's not under pressure, but he probably won't save you, Eddie. Maybe long ago he might have tried, but the years have shortened his honor. He's said 'yes' so many times that he's forgotten that 'no' is an option anymore. Only you can get yourself out of this mess, Eddie. And me, I hope. If I can help. Just tell me what to do."

  "First explain to me what you meant about not being a natural woman."

  "Oh, that. Well, I don't have your mental Slowdown capabilities, if that's what you're thinking. However, I didn't fall off the hay wagon last Tuesday, either. They poked and prodded and tested me, and decided that I was about as close to your level as anyone might ever get. My I.Q. is over 200."

  "You don't have to justify your brains to me. It's obvious that you've got more than sand between your ears. I don't trust I.Q. tests, anyway. Did you know that those things were never originally intended as a measure of general adult intelligence? I'll take high doses of honesty, courage, ambition, and perseverance over the I.Q. lottery any day of the week."

  "Well, whatever.They think I.Q. is important. But that's not the only thing they liked about me. You see, my genetic history is so healthy it would make you sick to look at the chart."

  She ran a hand through her glossy brown hair, a gesture I'd seen often, and continued, "At first, before you allegedly went rogue and got squashed into that infernal MI machine, they'd encouraged our romance. At first, I went along-as a duty."

  "You wereordered to woo me?"

  She nodded, looking down at her fingernails.

  "They wanted us to have kids, sweetheart. They wanted to see if I could bake up big batches of little hyper-speed mini-Eddies. You probably think I was awful for even considering such a thing under orders. However, you see, I know they're right about you. Youare unique. In the abstract, it makes sense to try to conserve whatever genes make you what you are. Anyway, I used to think so. Then, after I got to know you, I somehow fell in love and- Well, that changed everything. Also, I started finding out more about the program, Project BTB, they call it."

  "BTB?"

  "Before the Beginning, or something like that. They picked the name after you went under the MI. You never knew about it. I don't think anyone knows for sure what it stands for, except maybe Jefferson. Some of the techies-who don't like the pressure Jefferson's put you through-say it stands for Break the Bastard. You being the bastard. You've never been exactly freely forthcoming with your compliance. You've always had the highly unmilitary gall to question virtually everything. That's why Jefferson decided to declare you a rogue."

  "You're saying I actually wasn't?"

  "Not in the way he and Dan told you. You never threatened to expose anything in here. You've always taken your oaths of secrecy seriously. Not a black spot on your record until the good general
got out his ink bottle. That's Jefferson's justification. Pulled it out of thin air with 'verification' statements from his lap dogs. They'll lap up anything he sticks their snouts in. Believe me, he's faked some convincing-looking evidence condemning you as a grave national security risk. He wants to keep you here at all costs. If he can declare you a major risk, he figures it'll be a lot easier to slap a leash around your neck and keep it there. He's got the discretionary power to do it."

  "But why? Am I missing something here?"

  She frowned and got out a little light that doctors use to look through your pupils.

  "Uh-huh, thought so," she muttered, "you're head's still fuzzed up a bit. Shows up as a slight macular swelling. Short-term memory doesn't come back all at once, either. Spotty. Should be better soon, though. The short-term retrieval returns fully before the long-term stuff snaps back into order. Your long-term is getting better fast, so I imagine the short-term problem will take care of itself in another hour or two."

  She put the light away and said, "Jefferson and his boys think they can use you to start the human race over again on a new, higher plane."

  I made a sour face and spat out an obscenity.

  "Okay, yeah, I recollect something like that," I said. "I'm supposed to be their starter yeast. And what? You're supposed to be the hot little oven?"

  "Thatwas the idea, all right."

  "Why does the concept feel like a slug crawling down my throat?"

  "Probably because it ought to be our choice, not theirs. Probably because neither of us looks forward to being cattle in a human factory farm. Besides, there's more to it than that."

  I barked a harsh laugh and said, "I'm not sure I can take anymore."

  "Well, you need to know. It wasn't just me they were going to use, Eddie. They've got a whole squad of women lined up to be inseminated and bake your babies. Jefferson's bragged about it. Personally screened them, I'm told."

  "I'll bet."

  "He's gotten so cocky that he's not careful anymore. Here's the butter on the bread, Eddie. He's decided that it would be better to have you unconscious in the MI machine, providing donor sperm for an endless line of experimental moms. No matter what he's led you to believe, he has no intention ofeither letting you off this base or remaining conscious. He'll pack you into that machine and feed you appropriately romantic virtual reality dreams and you'll be nothing more than a chained bull."

 

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