by Amber Stuart
“Oh, no,” called out a familiar voice, thick with tears. “Not you too, Jada.”
Her gaze unerringly sought the source of the voice, and tears filled her eyes when she saw her friend Jessminda a dozen beds away. She rushed to her friend, dropping down onto the bed to hug her as Ryland stood behind her.
Jess glared up at him, tightening her arms around Jada in a protective fashion. “You stay away from her.”
Jada patted her shoulder and wriggled free of the tight hug, since it was currently reducing her ability to inflate her lungs. “No, it’s okay, Jess. This is Ryland, and he’s here to help rescue and heal you guys.” She didn’t bother to explain that it wasn’t completely healing, but rather a process of restoring optimal homeostasis. The scientific talk and explanation could wait until later.
She looked down at her friend, who wasn’t confined to the bed with straps, other than one across her waist. She touched it and arched a brow. “Have they labeled you a flight risk?”
Jess chuckled darkly. “They got sick of me pulling myself out of bed and trying to crawl across the floor.”
“Never give up, right?” She grinned at her friend before turning her head to look up at Ryland. “Can you heal just now?”
He nodded, pulling out the same device she recognized from when he had injected her with the nanobots. “I have approximately twenty units in here, Jada, so I can’t heal everyone. I wish I could.”
She nodded her understanding, suddenly aware of the eyes on them, and hating the fact they couldn’t help everyone or save everyone that day.
When Ryland brought the device closer to Jess, her friend shook her head, straight brown hair flying everywhere. “Get that away from me, alien boy.”
“It’s okay, Jess. He gave me the same thing, and I was up walking around a few minutes later.”
Jess turned distrusting eyes on her, which hurt. “How am I supposed to believe that? How do I even know you’re you? These are fucking aliens, Jada.”
She inclined her head. “Fair enough, but have you seen any human-like aliens walking around? Or have they all been of the Mr. Bland or the golden-skin variety?”
Jess hesitated for a moment before answering, looking almost reluctant to admit, “Just the golden boys like this one.”
Jada nodded again. “They want our eggs, not us. It’s the Kaiser’s Syndrome that makes us genetically compatible with them. I promise you that I am your friend, and not some weird alien clone thing.”
“Our eggs?”
Ryland interjected, “I found the research area, and Dr. Ha’s team has harvested several hundred human eggs, but has not yet initiated the process of creating blastocysts for implantation.”
Jess blinked at him before turning her attention back to Jada. There was still faint suspicion in her gaze. “I still don’t know if it’s you.”
Jada sighed. “Do you remember when we had Mexican food six months ago? We shared half a bottle of tequila between us, and we had to wait there half the night before we were sober enough to call for a taxi to take us home?”
The mistrust in Jess’s eyes faded slightly. “Yeah, okay, but tell me something that only you would know.”
“When you were six years old, you put slugs in Pradheep’s shoes because he had pulled your hair and laughed at you in front of his friends.”
Jess relaxed abruptly, looking at Ryland and holding out her arm. ““Okay, get on with it then.”
Ryland didn’t say anything, but his lips appeared to be twitching, and he was clearly having a difficult time holding in his amusement at her about-face and bossy tone. He injected her with the nanobots and moved on to the next woman less than ten seconds later.
Jada sat with Jess as the nanobots did their magic, watching as the women nearest them were offered the option of being treated. A surprising number of them declined, but she understood their fear. She just hoped they weren’t rejecting their last chance, and she hoped Ryland wasn’t the only Dazon who thought it had to be a consensual arrangement for it to work.
He was administering the seventeenth dose when the door suddenly opened, admitting Ha and a group of his assistants, who stormed into the room. They formed a semicircle between the women and the exit. A few of the women were already regaining the ability to stand, Jess included, and she climbed from the bed with moderate assistance from Jada. It would take the nanotechnology a bit of time to repair her atrophied muscles, but at least she could stand.
Jorvak looked appalled at the sight before him, and his gaze homed in on his half-brother. “Inquisitor Breese?”
The coldly impersonal way he addressed his brother boggled her mind, and she reminded herself they were aliens with a completely different culture, as Ryland had told her.
Ryland slipped the device that administered the nanotechnology back into his suit, where it seemed to disappear. She’d have to remember to ask him about their storage or pockets at some point in the future. He strode back to them, his arm going around Jada’s waist in a sign of support. “Jorvak Ha, you and your assistants are under arrest for sedition. You will be extradited back to the home world, where you will face charges of unauthorized experimentation on a non-compliant sentient race.”
Ha crossed his arms over his black jumpsuit and made a production of looking around. “You’ve come to arrest me, Inquisitor? And who will be providing the assistance for that task? Will it be these humans, who would be no match for us even in perfect physical condition?”
His gaze moved to Jada, and he frowned at her. “Perhaps it will be the human you must have restored to health a few days ago, one who was formidable enough to kill one of my assistants, but not before her genetic material was entered into the computer. As soon as it detected the presence of nanotechnology, the system alerted me.”
“Actually, it will be the armada currently orbiting Earth. I received notification from Commander Darvig approximately ten minutes ago that they have arrived, and a landing party will be here shortly.”
Jorvak’s haughty expression faded, replaced by one of anger and fear. “Have you fools no vision? These women hold the key to our future. All Earth women can easily be modified with a full laboratory and all Dazon technology at my disposal. It won’t take much to figure out how to reprogram the genetic code so that they all carry the extra fragment.
“There are approximately four billion women on this planet, which is more than enough to revitalize not only our population, but our culture and society. Our men need wives as much as we need offspring. We’ve forgotten how to be a cohesive society, and women can teach us that again.”
Jada shook her head, stunned at the juxtaposition of his words and his actions. “But these are the women you’re planning to kidnap and force to do your bidding. How do you see them becoming some sort of harmonious integration into Dazon society and elevating your standard of living…or whatever you have in mind? The women will fight you every step of the way.”
He glared at her, giving her a look that suggested he found her no more important than he would a bug pinned under a microscope. “The women will cooperate if they want to have their disease held in check. If they continue to resist, it’s a simple matter to shut down the nanotechnology. If I had your nanos’ exact energy signature, I could shut yours down in five minutes or less.”
She glared at him with equal ferocity, taking a step forward without thinking. She almost marched right up to him and slugged him in the face, which wouldn’t have been very peaceable of her, but certainly would have felt good. Instead, Ryland’s hand around her wrist kept her from moving forward. “You’re still talking about force and coercion. The only way this union will work is as a partnership. The women have to be ready to become your partners, and there has to be more incentive than holding their health over their head.”
He shrugged. “You humans are far below us and beneath us. You should consider it an honor that we would integrate you into our society.”
S
he rolled her eyes. “You’d integrate a strain of fungus into your society if it gave you the results you’re looking for, Dr. Ha.”
He inclined his head in a nod of agreement. “I see we share a similar opinion of your species then.”
She turned to Ryland, who had not released his hold on her hand. “I know he’s your brother, but can’t you just shoot him?” She was so frustrated that the words came out staccato, and she punctuated the last one with a grunt.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that authorization, Jada.” He winked at her. “Now, I want you and the other women to move to the back of the room, because the commander and the rest of the team are in the facility, and they’ll be breaching those doors any second. I want to minimize injury, particularly to the earthlings.”
Jada nodded, understanding the need to be relegated to the back of the room and protected, though she didn’t like it. She would rather stand beside him, but she knew it would be a distraction for him, rather than a helping hand. She didn’t know anything about combat, and she didn’t even know if Ha’s people would put up a fight or if they would surrender peacefully. Either way, Ryland would be more focused, ergo safer, with her out of the immediate area.
Jess heard his words too, and she started herding the women who could walk toward the back of the room. Those who were in chairs or beds, and required assistance, took more time. She was surprised that Ha’s group made no effort to stop them from moving the women, but she was glad to be able to accomplish the task quickly.
They had just moved the last of the nearest thirty women deeper into the room, closer to all the other beds, when the door opened. She had been expecting a battering ram, or the alien equivalent, to be necessary, so it was almost a letdown when the door slid open easily, and the troops entered to surround Jorvak.
He and his associates surrendered without fighting, though the doctor paused as they started to escort him from the room, looking directly at Ryland as Jada came back to him, deciding it was safe enough to approach now. “All you’ve done today is slow down our progress and delay the inevitable. I’m not the only one who thinks this way, Inquisitor Breese. You’ll see that I have more support than you, and I’ll be the hero who discovered the salvation of our race, while you’ll simply be the footnote recorded as a brief impediment.”
Ryland shook his head as he put his arm around Jada and pulled her nearer. “I believe you’re wrong, Jorvak, but I will not willingly allow such a plan to proceed, and I won’t follow any who would order such action.”
The inquisitor who had arrested Jorvak led him from the room, and his associates fell in line between the inquisitors taking them into custody. Each arrestee moved with a cocky arrogance that suggested they were certain they had nothing to fear.
Jada turned to Ryland, grasping his hand in hers. “Are they right? Will they be greeted as heroes rather than criminals?”
Ryland lifted his shoulder. “I wish I knew. I’d like to believe in the goodness of my fellow Dazon, and that they couldn’t act in such a reprehensible manner, but they’re also desperate, and Jorvak was right. The bonds that hold us together as a people have frazzled and split over the ensuing generations, and we’re a much more selfish society than we used to be. All we can do is wait and see.”
She didn’t like that plan, and she clung to him tighter. “Do you have to go back?”
He froze for a moment before lifting a hand to push her kinky curls off her forehead in a tender gesture. “I’ll submit a recording for my debriefing, and I can record my testimony live via our communications link. There’s no pressing reason for me to return to Dazonia Major. I would like to stay here on Earth…with you…but in what capacity?”
She licked her lips and pressed her body closer to his. “I’d like to have you stay in the capacity as my lover, eventually becoming my husband—or whatever Dazons call that role—and creating children together.”
His eyes darkened, and he almost purred. “So now you believe in the mating flare, my sweet human?”
She shook her head. “No, not really, but I believe in you, and how you make me feel. I want you to stay.”
Ryland bent his head, bringing his lips close to hers when he said, “Forever and always, my dear mate.” A second later, he sealed the promise with a kiss.
THE END
PARAGON
By
AUBREY WATT
CHAPTER ONE
“As for morality, well that's all tied up with the question of consciousness.”
Roger Penrose
***
Her head was on his chest, and she could hear his heart beating through the pale skin to echo hers. His breaths made her entire body rise and fall with his, the rolling motion as regular as the tides that would only cease to be once the moon fell into the earth, or the earth into the sun.
Which would happen first? How would this planet go, finally? The idea would not stop scratching at her brain, and if his arm had not been tightly laced around her body she might have stood up and paced the sand to ponder it.
Would the moon fall first, winding its way down into the atmosphere until it scraped against the surface of our planet? Or rather, would the earth fall into the sun, perhaps dragging the moon along into a fiery death? It didn’t matter, of course. What would happen would happen, and worries had no place in the present.
His body was human, his touch warm, his lips slightly parted as he slept. Watching him she could not believe that they wanted to destroy him. He was so innocent.
He murmured something, a whisper from the other side of sleep, and at that moment she felt him to be unbearably fragile, unbelievably human. A child.
Standing in the airport, he had asked her a question and she had said yes. Now, though, she wondered if either of them would be safe, if either of them could be happy as fugitives. They had each other; was it enough?
She traced her finger across his pale chest and he stirred, his eyes moving behind their lids. If she could have reached out and caught his dreams, she would have seen that they were as complex and incomprehensible as her own. They had made him that way. Able to feel.
To love, to feel. It was enough.
***
On Tuesday morning, the following message was transmitted to Washington by the M.I.D. headquarters ninety miles outside of Phoenix, Arizona:
PRIORITY CODE 22
TIME SENT: 15:08:34 DATE 06/04/2131
START TRANSMISSION
TO: SEN . YONGH FROM: LTC . JOHNNER RE: PROJECT PARAGON
SECOND INSTANCE OF MALFUNCTION IN AL-26 CORE ON LAUNCH ; PROTOTYPE DESTROYED. ONE IMPLANTED PROTOTYPE REMAINING . PLEASE ADVISE .
END TRANSMISSION
Out of her office, the senator missed the message’s arrival by mere minutes, and did not get a chance to review the transmission until that evening. It was almost seventeen hours before she replied to the M.I.D. laboratory with the consensus from the NorAm-Soviet consulate group. The decision was unanimous: continue with the agreed-upon Project Paragon protocol and enlist help from external sources. There were seven names on the list for the M.I.D. to contact, in order.
They struck the first name immediately; Sam Warson had recently visited Singapore and had his passport flagged for customs breaches when he attempted to return to North America with human-based neural transplant materials. Locked up in a minimum security prison reserved for dignitaries and other important persons, he was currently awaiting a hearing in front of the Seattle medical ethics board before standing trial.
The second name was Dr. Chal Davidson.
***
In the darkness the slide was blindingly bright. The audience members blinked, their pupils adjusting in milliseconds like lenses to the reflected light of the screen. Dr. Chal Davidson’s voice rose, echoing slightly in the dim room from behind her podium.
“The hard problem of consciousness has been a thorn in philosophy’s side for ages. Physicalism holds that everything we have
in our brains is adequate to explain the workings of the mind, but there are issues that this explanation raises. We ourselves perceive that we feel, rather than just think. When we stub a toe, the pain is represented in our neuronal firings, yes, but there is also the quality of the pain, what philosophers call qualia.”
Chal gestured, and the pointer which had been hovering patiently by her elbow now whirled toward the slide, tracing the image of the brain’s pain network. The image morphed into a photo of a man in obvious agony, and the pointer dropped down beneath the projection screen, bobbing obediently next to Chal. She tossed her long blond hair back as she continued.
“Go back to Descartes’ famous pronouncement in the Cogito: I think, therefore I am. Let us take, as an example, the human orgasm.” Some members in the audience giggled. Always a winner with a college crowd.
“We have long been able to study the neuronal firings that happen simultaneously with orgasm. And Lidder’s recent study has shown us that if we replicate the brain firing patterns through backwards EEG analysis, we can induce orgasms in research patients. Naturally this has caused a great deal of commotion in the porn industry.”
Dr. Davidson switched the slide to a picture of one of Lidder’s patients, a woman in the throes of neuronal-induced orgasm. A ripple of uncomfortable laughter ran through the lecture hall. Chal looked up at the slide. She had seen it a hundred times before, the dark-haired woman with her mouth in the shape of an O. It never failed to unnerve the audience. Fake orgasms... and then what? She paused to let the picture sink in.
“In the field of traditional philosophy, however, we are no closer to understanding the deeper part of experience, the qualia, that makes one person’s experience different from another’s.
