Virtual

by S A Pavli

  "Why didn't you say anything earlier?" she asked softly.

  "Lots of reasons. You’re a client," he said, pausing vaguely. “Having affairs with passengers is very unprofessional. And If I’d declared my interest and you’d shown me the door, relations between us may have been difficult for the rest of the mission. Either way not a good idea.”

  "And I forced your hand,“ she smiled. “Still think it's not a good idea?”

  "It‘s a very bad idea. But…I love it,” he said, looking deeply and meaningfully into her eyes. He leaned across the seats to take her in his arms.

  "Not very comfortable up here,” she complained, as they struggled in the confined space. She looked behind her nervously at the open doorway. He sensed her discomfort and pulled away.

  "I guess we should belay this for the time being?" he asked.

  "Belay?” she giggled. “Aye aye Captain!” She straightened herself up and put on a serious expression.

  "I guess I'd better go down and join the others.” She looked out of the window at the alien landscape. “This is fantastic isn't it?” He followed her eyes out of the window, then turned back to her.

  "Yeah, really fantastic," he said gazing deeply into her eyes. She gave him an admonishing look before standing up to leave the Bridge, with one last lingering look behind her. He turned back to his instruments with a feeling of euphoria, but also a niggling undertone of guilt. There's always one bloody fly in the ointment he thought. OK, doctor Leslie was a very attractive fly, but he should have shown a little more will power. Or won 't power He scowled at the instruments as if it was somehow their fault. The voice of the auto pilot interrupted his thoughts.

  "Twenty thousand feet, mach one. Destination two hundred kilometres.” Beneath, the lush greenery of the tropical jungle had given way to the glaring gold and beige of a desert landscape. Despite his confused emotions, Mark was captivated by it's stark and rocky grandeur. As the ship dropped lower, he could make out the detail of rocky cliffs and buffs and the winding trails scoured by ancient rivers. This is an old, old, landscape, he thought. Long ago it would have been green and fertile. He tried to put Melanie's beautiful face out of his mind by reviewing the plans and checking his instruments.

  "Destination in range, switching to manual,” announced the auto pilot.

  "Confirm control," said Mark, slapping the manual -auto switch.

  "Control relinquished,” agreed the auto pilot. Beneath and in the distance, the first signs of the alien city appeared. Excitement welled up inside him as he took control of the ship, slowing its speed and bringing it lower for a good look at the city. He thumbed the intercom.

  "This is the Captain. I am taking the ship down for a tour of the city. If you have any preferences for a landing site, let me know.” Melanie's voice came back.

  "Check Captain.” There was something about the way she pronounced Captain that caused him to smile. He took the ship down to two hundred metres, and began a slow traverse from west to east, then a complete circle and a pass north to south. Most of the buildings looked badly decayed, with walls and ceilings collapsed. Road surfaces were broken and cracked, sometimes with huge craters. It took a half an hour, and as the old city scrolled beneath, it became apparent that the obvious place to land would be the central square. It wasn't square, in keeping with the rest of the architecture, it was circular, but functionally, it was the town's central square. Around it rose large and imposing buildings and numerous statues on plinths. The centre was occupied by an ornate structure topped by a huge arch.

  "The central square would be the best place to land," said Melanie over the intercom.

  Mark confirmed his agreement and carefully manoeuvred the ship towards a large empty area on the north side of the square. The ship settled with a gentle thump and the insistent whine of hydraulic motors, which shut down after a few seconds.

  "Ship is secure,” announced Mark. “Air sampling under way. Results should be available in a minute or two. I'm on my way down.” He went to unbuckle his belt, and realised that he had not done it up after Melanie had left.

  "Mark, tut tut, procedures, he chided himself as he made his way down the narrow stairs from the Bridge to the main cabin.

  Chapter 2 0

  Captain Anja Pederson was not by nature an imaginative person. Her northern ancestry had equipped her with a calm phlegmatic nature, which combined with a keen brain, made her an ideal starship captain. The same qualities had allowed her ancestors to cross stormy northern seas in their tiny ships, navigating by the stars, to explore and occupy foreign shores. But even her calm phlegmatic nature had been tried by the events of the last few days, and now, even more so. There was something happening to her ; it was something beyond her experience, and it frightened her.

  Since being brought back from the dead by the defibrillator, and freed of the alien infestation, she had begun to notice changes in her mental faculties. They were small at first, but had slowly grown until now they could not be ignored. Firstly, it was her memory. It had not been bad before, but now, it had become spectacularly good. She had heard of people with so called eidetic memories, but what her memory had become was more than that ; It wasn't just perfect recall, it was perfect photographic recall. This she knew, was un -natural and impossible. There just was not enough capacity in the human brain to store memories in that detail. Or was there?

  But more frightening were the voices. They weren’t voices exactly ; just barely conscious whispers which were just beneath the level of hearing or understanding. At first, she thought she was somehow communicating with the aliens. The Virtuals as they had named them. But what she was getting was not alien gabble. It felt human, just on the verge of comprehension. Then she realised that it was coming from her colleagues. She was able to sense their presence on the ship, and the closer they came to her, the louder their internal voice became. But it was selective. She could feel LeBlanc and the Major, but not Andy or Jo. The conclusion was obvious ; the Major and LeBlanc had been infected, Andy and Jo had not. Somehow, the infestation had changed them. She wanted to discuss it with someone. LeBlanc was the natural person to talk to ; he was the physicist and perhaps in the best position to try and make sense of it. But instead, she felt the need to talk to Major Pete. His empathy and strength had helped her to get through the last few days, particularly the funeral of her crew and passengers of the Chameleon.

  Preparations were under way for the second trip to the alien moon base, but she asked the Major to come to her apartment. He came through the door with his usual brisk bouncy walk.

  "Be ready to go in a few minutes Captain. Myself, LeBlanc and Jo. Andy isn't happy about Jo going, but she's the engineer.”

  "Thanks Major. But I didn't ask you here to talk about that," she said. He looked enquiringly at her. “Sit down. Can I get you a drink?” He shook his head at that.

  "Not before a mission. Glad to share a bottle with you afterwards.” She gave him a warm smile.

  "I'll keep you to that.” They sat and faced each other, with the Major patiently relaxed. That's what I like about him, she thought, he always looks calm and un -fussed.

  "Major I have a problem that I must talk to somebody about," she said.

  "Not a woman type problem I hope? Jo may be better for that?" he said it with an amused expression, and Anja smiled her response.

  "No, not a woman type problem whatever that is.” She fidgeted awkwardly for a few seconds before continuing. “Major, have you noticed anything different about yourself since you were infested?” He pursed his lips thoughtfully for a few seconds.

  "Can't say I have," he said slowly. “I feel exceptionally well. Very alert and clear headed in fact.”

  "Actually, I think that's my point," she said. “Do you feel, well, unnaturally clear headed?” He frowned at her, and a puzzled expression spread across his lean face.

  "Now you mention it, yes. It's as if everything is clearer, more detailed. All my memories particularly. I just thought t
he adrenalin was getting to me.”

  "It's not the adrenalin. I'm further down the road than you, and the effect's are impossible to ignore.”

  "Further down the road? I don't understand Anja ?”

  "I think it may be due to our experience. With the Virtuals," she said nervously.

  "But we're free of them. Aren’t we?” He frowned. She shook her head.

  "I'm not sure. I thought at first it was just my imagination, but recently it's becoming too strong. It's not normal.”

  "Tell me exactly what you’re feeling ," he said, leaning forward in his chair intently. She described her symptoms as accurately as she could. Her improved memory and the new clarity of her thoughts and memories, and the whispering voices.

  "What can you hear now?" he asked.

  "I can hear two voices," she said. “One is LeBlanc. I've learnt to recognise him. He is weak because he's far away. The other voice is you, and it's much stronger.”

  "Can you tell what I'm thinking?” he asked. His voice and face were expressionless, but his eyes betrayed his concern.

  "No,” she shook her head. “It's just well, like a feeling.”

  "When I come closer it gets stronger?" he asked. She nodded. “But there is still no intelligence?”

  "No, nothing,” she agreed.

  "Mmm. Not surprising,” he chuckled. Despite herself, she had to smile.

  "What…um, if I get very close?” She looked questioningly at him. He indicated his head. “Heads touching.”

  "We can try,” she agreed. He stood up and so did she and they moved closer to each other. They stood awkwardly a few inches apart and the Major looked questioningly at her. She shook her head. The Major leaned his head forward until their foreheads touched. She gave a gasp and stepped back, her eyes wide. He too looked startled.

  "I felt something!”

  "Me too!” He eyes were wide as she spoke. “Stronger, more distinct.”

  "No thoughts though," he said.

  "No, just a strong presence,” she agreed.

  "It's a fact then, we are not imagining it," he said. “Shall we try again?”

  "I'm afraid," she said. “This is too weird.” He nodded.

  "Er ok, let's not then,” he began.

  "No, we need to find out," she said. He nodded and moved close to her again. Face to face, their foreheads touched and she felt an electric tingling and someone was inside her head, She resisted the urge to pull away, to stop the violation of her inner space, and concentrated on trying to make sense of the amorphous images in her head. They were an amalgamation of thoughts and emotions, like a dream, senseless and formless.

  "Think of something," she said suddenly. “Something familiar and simple.”

  "I can't," he said. “Not with your face next to mine like this. It's too distracting.”

  "Sorry, the feeling is mutual!” she giggled. But they remained in place and gradually something began to coalesce at the edges of her consciousness ; a feeling, a desire, a sense of physical intimacy. She gasped and pulled away, looking at him accusingly.

  "Well, that was certainly something familiar and simple!” A pink stain was spreading up his face from his neck.

  "Ah sorry Anja, I do apologise. One doesn’t get that close to a woman normally.” Then he suddenly seemed to realise the consequences of what she had just said. "Do you mean you felt my well, you know what?”

  "I didn't imagine it then? You did feel something?" she asked.

  "Yes but actually, I thought it was coming from you," he said. It was her turn to blush. She realised that she was trembling slightly, and that she was desperately in need of a drink. She walked over to her cocktail cabinet, trying not to think of the sudden warm intimacy that had taken hold of her.

  "I think I will have a drink after all," said the Major, his voice husky and strained.

  "I have a good French brandy," said Anja.

  "Excellent," said the Major, seating himself on the Captain’s guest sofa. Anja brought the drinks over and sat opposite the Major, her face expressionless. They both took a good draught of their drink and put their glasses down. They were both trying hard to avoid each others eyes, and it was the Major who spoke first.

  "Anja, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you,” he began.

  "Major. Peter, if I may call you Peter?”

  "I'd like that," said the Major quickly.

  "We're both grown up," she said. “Don’t worry about offending me. What's important is the meaning of what's just happened. Was it something new, or just a normal reaction to a strange situation?”

  "Don't know about you Anja, but what happened then was by no means normal. I've never experienced anything like it before.” She nodded her agreement.

  "I agree. It was amazing. But what does it mean?”

  "It means,” began the Major. “It means that something incredible had happened to us.” He paused and took another sip of his brandy. “We seem to be developing new senses and new abilities.”

  "But, if this is due to the alien infestation, it means all the others will also develop the new abilities," she said.

  "Yes, you said that you can sense myself and LeBlanc, but not Andy and Jo? We should check with them to see what they think,"

  "We should talk to LeBlanc. He may have some ideas, do some tests," said Anja.

  "And we should tell the others," agreed the Major. “The doctor may be able to do some tests.”

  "How could this have happened?” asked Anja. “How could the Virtuals have changed us in this way?” She did not expect an answer from the Major, and he shook his head, his expression one of bafflement. “I'm glad you also feel it,” she continued softly. “I thought I was going crazy.” His face was a picture of sympathy.

  "We're all in the same boat," he said.

  "Yes, but where is this boat taking us?” she whispered. “Enlightenment? Or madness?”

  Chapter 21

  Geremy Carstairs was not easily shocked, but when he got the hyperspace message from the Bounty Hunter, he had to sit down with a stiff whisky. His initial reaction was one of amazement and wonder. Evidence of alien intelligent life in our galaxy had become a dream during the hundreds of years of exploration. Thousands of star systems had revealed evidence of primitive life only. It seemed that the Earth was unique in the galaxy. Now, the whole equation had changed ; where there can be two, there can be many more.

  But after the initial surprise and wonderment, he was then seized by a feeling of panic. His daughter was there, in the alien ruins infested by invisible and inimical alien life forms. For all his power and money, he was helpless. This was an unfamiliar situation for Carstairs, which only served to increase his frustration and panic. Pacing up and down, cursing and muttering to himself, he was the antithesis of the urbane father figure that he liked to present to the world.

  But he hadn't built the largest financial empire on the planet by giving in to panic, and after his token tantrum, he did some serious thinking. Someone had beaten him to the planet, and he knew who that was because only one other individual had applied for the rights on that system. Petr Muller of course, who else? But their mission had gone badly wrong, destroyed by the alien life forms. This had undoubtedly saved his daughter's life and the life of everyone else on the expedition. If they’d arrived first instead ? Carstairs shuddered at the thought. And Muller's application had been turned down by the allocations Committee, so he had no rights. That was some consolation to Carstairs, but not for long. With alien artefacts being discovered, the system would become out of bounds. Development would be forbidden for God knows how long. So his investment had gone down the tubes as well!

  He paced up and down, thinking furiously. The first thing was to get his daughter out of danger as soon as possible. After that, how to get something out of this? Did Muller's team also send a Hyperspace message? But they were all dead. He read the message carefully back again. No, the captain of the Chameleon survived so she may have sent a message to her employer. He ha
d to assume she had done so, or may soon do so. In which case he had to get maximum mileage out of this sensational news as quickly as possible. Carstairs media empire was second in size only to his arch rival Petr Muller's galaxy Media Associates and competition between them for scoops was always frenzied. This was an opportunity to sell lots of newspapers and magazines, but that hardly seemed adequate reward for his outlays. People were going to be hungry to know about this new alien civilisation, and he needed to secure a monopoly on this news for as long as possible. He had to stop the captain of the Chameleon contacting her employer, or at least put it off for as long as possible. And then the sudden realisation came which left him cold. There had to be a traitor on board the Bounty Hunter. How else could Muller have found out about his expedition and beaten him to the punch?

  He went over in his mind the sequence of events leading up to the departure of the Bounty Hunter, and the answer soon became obvious. Apart from the two scientists LeBlanc and Walters, only one individual had known of the expedition early enough to sell him out to a higher bidder. He was sure it would not be the two scientists ; they worked at New Athens University and he was its biggest sponsor. In the past he had been generous in funding their departments and their research. If he was any judge of men, he was sure it was not them. Which left Major Pete Follet. Carstairs was disappointed; he had liked the Major, who appeared a reliable sort of guy. Carstairs had paid to have him investigated of course, and there had been no skeletons in his cupboard, no financial problems and no vices such as gambling. Every man has his price, he thought sourly. So be it, he had to make sure that the Major and the Captain of the Chameleon were either bought off, or nullified. He sat down to compose an urgent message to his daughter.

  Chapter 22

  The first excursion into the alien city was to be just an informal stroll. The airlock doors opened on to a brightly lit scene with the sun at its zenith, and for a moment Mark imagined he could be back on Earth, looking on to the ruins of an ancient city. He doubted that any ancient Earth city would have looked anything like the scene that met his eyes, but it was a romantic thought. Motors whined as the ship's ramp was lowered.