by E. R. Torre
His very last memory before awakening on this ship was his savage attack on Saint Vulcan. He stabbed her right through the heart and she displayed no pain.
What happened immediately afterwards?
He was obviously still with Saint Vulcan, and she obviously did not retaliate. Why did his memories end so abruptly? What did Saint Vulcan and he talk about afterwards? Saint Vulcan was alone in his apartment. At no point did she attack him or defend herself. If anything, she was passive throughout the encounter, waiting for him to let his emotions out before presenting her case, whatever it was.
She was there to recruit you for this trip and she gave you the opportunity to accept or decline. If she wanted to force me to take a trip I wouldn’t agree to, it wouldn’t have taken all that much to disable me. She could have spiked a drink or taken me by force while I was walking alone in the park. She could have kept me under and used my DNA and memories to create this clone without the real David Desjardins ever realizing…
No.
Saint Vulcan made herself known to him. She revealed the fact that she was still alive. She talked to David Desjardins before placing his duplicate –me– on this space craft. She was there because she wanted him to know her plans. And he heard what she offered him and he… and he…
He agreed to this. All of this.
“Show yourself, Saint Vulcan,” David Desjardins said out loud.
“I know I –my elderly self– agreed to come here. You were waiting for me to figure that out, weren’t you? I don’t know why you couldn’t put all my memories together, but you had to make me realize this for myself, didn’t you?”
He waited for the ghost of Saint Vulcan to reappear.
It didn’t.
He stood for a few more minutes. After a while, he picked up his clothes and walked off the beach.
When he returned to the bridge, she was there.
Ghostly eyes stared forward at the view screen and their destination.
David Desjardins walked to her side and followed her stare.
“Why are we going there?”
“Because we have to.”
Saint Vulcan faced David Desjardins.
“This mission isn’t punishment and it isn’t an experiment,” the ghost of Saint Vulcan said. “Living through this flight may well mean the difference between the survival of the human race or its extinction.”
“I wasn’t ready to hear it before. I am now. Please, show me what David Desjardins has to say.”
13
Saint Vulcan’s hologram nodded.
Besides her appeared the image of the elderly David Desjardins. He spoke.
“There’s a certain irony to this situation,” the Desjardins hologram began. He wasn’t talking directly to his clone, but rather to the unseen camera before him. “When you see this, the ‘real’ me will be long gone. Yet you are an almost exact flesh and blood duplicate. You carry all my memories, up to a point. For all intents and purposes, you are now the one and only ‘real’ David Desjardins.”
The elderly man paused. Sadness reflected in his eyes.
“Undertaking this action –the creation of another me– was not something done lightly,” the hologram continued. “After Saint Vulcan explained the mission, I spent two full weeks agonizing over the choices that were mine alone to make. In the end, I made my choice and I –we– bear that responsibility. Your memories end with her visit to my apartment. This, too, was done on purpose. It was not our intention to confuse or keep things from you, but at this time Project Geist is in its infancy and there is only so much strain we can put on your system. From the moment you were awoken you were monitored. This was done to make sure you adjusted to your status and did not show signs of any number of potential problems, from depression to psychosis. The fact that you are listening to this part of the recording indicates you passed that initial test.”
“What if I had displayed irrational thoughts or actions?”
The hologram froze for a few seconds. When it next moved, the elderly Desjardins said:
“This may sound cold, David, but there are enough security provisions within this ship to minimize any damage created by a single person.”
“Would the mission be in danger?”
“There are alternate means of completing what needs to be done, but they would not be as effective without your presence.”
“What is the mission?”
“We cannot tell you. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the tests aren’t done.”
“You still don’t trust me.”
“It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of being absolutely certain you are me. In every sense of the word.”
“Why is that so important?”
The ghost of David Desjardins did not say.
“Humanity rests upon the shoulders of a clone with another’s memories,” the young Desjardins said. “Quite the honor. Suppose I find an airlock and end this test?”
“You could,” the elderly David Desjardins replied. “Since you exited the stasis chamber, we have exerted little to no control over your actions. Though you may not believe it, you are a free man.”
“I may not be a prisoner, but I am in a prison. If that star is my destination, then I’ve got a very long time to kill. I may sound rational now, but have either you or Saint Vulcan considered the effects of prolonged isolation? What guarantee is there I’ll remain sane a year or two from now? What if I decide, just for the hell of it, to figure out a way to sabotage the ship and fuck up your mission?”
“You cannot affect the craft in that way,” the Desjardins hologram said. “The ship’s controls are, until it is decided otherwise, locked. The computer consoles available to you are mostly for your amusement. You cannot use them to alter the direction or destination of the craft until it is determined you are ready to do so.”
“When will I be ready?”
“It won’t be long,” the elderly Desjardins hologram said. “Good luck David. I hope things work out. Believe it or not, I envy you. I envy what’s coming. I wish it was me there instead of you. Goodbye.”
The hologram of the elderly David Desjardins disappeared.
“Why do you need me here?” the younger Desjardins asked Saint Vulcan. “At least tell me that.”
“In time this vessel will require the skills of a veteran Captain of my fleet. Someone who will take action when it is needed.”
“But… fifty years? What I’ll have to endure until then is torture.”
Saint Vulcan’s stare returned to the view screen.
“Would it surprise you if I said that of all the regrets I had about Pomos, one of my biggest was what happened to you?”
“Me?”
“When I realized the planet was doomed and we had only one course of action, I was certain none of my Captains would agree with what had to be done to contain the virus. Like you, almost every one of them was about to lose family and friends. The price was unimaginable yet you were the only one who agreed with me. Even at the cost of your beloved wife. How you must miss her.”
David Desjardins steadied himself.
“A minute doesn’t pass that I don’t think about her,” he said.
The ghost of Saint Vulcan was quiet for a few seconds.
“There is no forgiveness for what happened on Pomos,” Saint Vulcan said. “I’ll live with that memory for the rest of my life. Those that vilify me do so with good cause.”
Saint Vulcan’s ghostly eyes returned to David Desjardins.
“But I’ve always wanted to do what was best,” she continued. “This situation will test you, especially at the end. In the meantime, there’s no reason for your continued suffering.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are fifty years to go before we reach our destination,” Saint Vulcan said. “Make good use of your time, David Desjardins. Go back to the beach. This is the last time you’ll see me until then.”
“What?”
The ghost of Saint Vulcan disappeared, leaving David Desjardins alone.
For a moment, he fought hard not to scream. The realization that he was truly alone was like falling into an ice bath. He spun around in the bridge, looking from monitor to monitor.
“Saint Vulcan?” he howled. “Don’t leave me!”
He moved on. Frantically. He hardly noticed when one of the smaller monitors lit up. On it was the beach.
“David?”
The voice startled him. It was female, familiar. A voice he hadn’t heard in years and yet a voice he recognized right away.
“David?” the voice repeated.
“By the Gods,” David Desjardins muttered.
Very slowly, he turned. She was on the monitor behind him, standing on the ship’s beach. She wore a bright red bathing suit and was calling out to him, as if he had only momentarily stepped away.
She was exactly as he remembered her. Her hair was blonde and curly. Her eyes sparkling blue.
“Where are we David?” she said.
David Desjardins ran to the elevator and ordered it to take him to the beach.
When it reached its destination, he ran past the deck and down the stairs before leaping onto the white sands. She was by the shoreline, her back to him. He ran to her, abruptly stopping just feet away.
“Holly?” he said.
She faced him and smiled.
“She told me you were here,” Holly said. Tears welled in her eyes. “She told me everything…”
Desjardins looked her over just as she did the same to him. He reached out and took her hands. She was no hologram. She was flesh and blood. David Desjardins held back his own tears. He released her and, hesitantly, touched her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. Just like it was, before…
“By the Gods,” he repeated.
He remembered the day he lost her and the crushing vacuum he felt since. That emptiness killed him piece by piece until his soul felt like a void. How he missed not having her by his side, of not seeing her smile or hearing her voice. Of not touching her hands or the caress of her…
“She gave us a second chance,” Holly said.
They hugged.
In the back of Desjardins’ mind he knew he was a clone of a long dead man as surely as the woman before him was the clone of that man’s lost wife.
It didn’t matter.
Their shared memories were here. They were here. And if memories don’t make a person, then what does?
“It’s going to be all right,” he told her as he cried. “It’s going to be all right.”
14
Erebus Asteroid Field. Year 5419 A.E.
Inquisitor Cer stared out the window of her quarters on the Epsillon battleship Dakota.
Large and small asteroids floated by the ship. Had anyone told her even as little as three months before she would spend time aboard any sort of Epsillon military star ship, she would surely have told them they were crazy. Either that or wondered how the heathens of the Epsillon Empire managed to imprison an Inquisitor of the Phaecian Empire.
Relationships between the Empires, even two hundred years after the abrupt end of their one and only Galactic War, remained in the most polite of terms “frosty”. Yet the two sides nonetheless came together for a mission that, had it gone wrong, may well have resumed that ancient war.
The days leading up to today were filled with high tension, intrigue, and death, all in the search for the super dreadnaught Argus, a top secret Epsillon battleship that avoided the incredible destruction that befell the Erebus Solar System at the end of the Galactic War. The Argus was trapped in the ruins of this system, now a wasteland of radioactive decay and asteroids.
The enormous ship held dangerous secrets and it was Inquisitor Cer’s job to make sure they weren’t revealed. For the Argus was much more than the largest battleship ever created by the Epsillon Empire. It was a massive explosive disguised as a spacecraft, an explosive of such power that it was capable of wiping out an entire Solar System. The ship was intended to be set off in Erebus and take out the backbone of both the Epsillon and Phaecian fleets, thus ending the Galactic War just as it started.
But she didn’t detonate.
A twin ship, the Phaecian Empire’s Luxor, destroyed Erebus mere seconds before the Argus arrived via Displacer.
Almost all the others who joined Cer in this mission gave in to the temptation of controlling the derelict and using it to return the Empires to their old ways. With the Argus’ destruction and their deaths, all was as before and the Empires could continue their uneasy peace without the threat of galactic destruction.
Inquisitor Cer’s eyes strayed from the window and to her sparse room. She, along with Overlord Octo and his two person security staff, were the only members of the Phaecian Empire aboard this battleship. Her companions had separate rooms and it wouldn’t take long before they left the Dakota and returned to the Phaecian Empire, never to return to Epsillon again.
Inquisitor Cer’s thoughts drifted.
Given all she experienced, she found it difficult to get her mind back to where –and who– she was before this adventure. In the Phaecian Empire Inquisitors were representatives of the Church and maintained law and order. Joining the Inquisitor ranks was a brutal task. Extensive DNA tests weeded out newborn candidates. The infants that scored highest were removed from their families shortly after their tenth year. They spent what remained of their childhood and early adulthood training for their eventual position. Of the ones deemed good candidates, fully eighty five percent of each generation proved inadequate. Of the fifteen percent left, most settled into local peace work. A fraction of those left joined the ranks of those who worked alongside the twelve Overlords that ran the Phaecian Empire.
In her year, Inquisitor Cer was the only one offered this privilege.
Once she completed her training, Cer was given her first assignments and forced to work alongside cruel taskmasters. It wasn’t until ten years later, when she reached full adulthood, that she was bestowed the title of Inquisitor.
Since then she proved those who allowed her to join these ranks made a wise decision. Her loyalty and skills were beyond question. Like the very best Inquisitors of old, she shut out pain as easily as pleasure, for the members of her Holy Sect were meant to neither enjoy or suffer through life.
Inquisitor Cer ascribed to this along with deep suspicions of all things related to the heathen Epsillon Empire.
That changed.
Her gaze returned to the asteroids.
Following meeting and working alongside the Epsillon Independent named B’taav, Inquisitor Cer experienced new, strange emotions. Emotions she knew were forbidden. At first she feared all those years of training were insufficient and that she had failed her masters.
Over a very short period of time the feelings evolved. She realized they were natural and, incredibly, did not detract from completing her mission.
How could that be?
Inquisitor Cer sighed.
Now, alone in her room and the Argus mission a success, she felt a connection to B’taav.
He was at her side for most of this time and proved he shared as strong a sense of duty and justice as any Phaecian Inquisitor.
Cer brushed back her yellow hair and abruptly rose from her cot.
Inquisitors were celibate and forbidden from forming intimacies. They were always on duty. Such feelings shouldn’t, couldn’t…
Inquisitor Cer shook her head.
It was impossible to keep the visions of the Independent, of his stony face, his pale white hair, and his deep black eyes from coming back to her. In a harsh light, his looks were imposing and, in others, might cause fear.
But when he smiled…
…that smile…
The speakers within the room came alive. A message was relayed through the ship:
“Arriving at Titus in three hours. I repeat, three hours.”
Inquisitor Cer walked to the door leading out of her
room.
Once the Dakota reached the Titus Space Station she, along with Overlord Octo and his staff, would depart Epsillon via the Erebus Displacer. It would take only a matter of minutes to fly from the Dakota and through the Displacer’s energy field and then, near instantly, be sent hundreds of light years away and arrive at Vera Epsillon, Phaecia’s Outer Fringe Displacer. From there, Cer and her companions would commence the circuitous route to Helios, the Phaecian Empire’s intelligence center. Inquisitor Cer would be called to report the details of her mission.
Again the image of B’taav entered her mind.
By that point, he will be on the other side of the universe.
The door to her quarters slid open and she stepped into the Dakota’s corridor.
She needed to clear her mind.
Outside her quarters and spread throughout the corridor were a half-dozen Epsillon Military Guards. They were there to make sure that while aboard the Dakota Inquisitor Cer didn’t get into any mischief. Obviously, state of the art high tech Battleships possessed a wealth of closely guarded secrets. These secrets were greedily kept from rival corporations and, especially, representatives of rival Empires.
Can’t blame them for checking up on me, Inquisitor Cer thought. I’d be doing the same in their place.
Cer walked past the Epsillon guards and down the corridors she was permitted access to. The guards didn’t follow her. They didn’t have to. Enough of them were stationed in strategic locations and could watch her movements without crowding her in. The higher ups within the Dakota gave Inquisitor Cer a long leash, but a leash nonetheless.
Inquisitor Cer spent the next hour walking the decks of the Dakota she was allowed to. The military officers around her, unlike her Phaecian military crews, displayed greater ease among themselves. At first she thought it was a sign of weakness. In time, she admired their ability to behave with such… humanity. With the mission successfully over, perhaps it was understandable the crew needed time to exhale.
Inquisitor Cer made her way to the central elevators. She no longer kidded herself. She wasn’t walking the deck to clear her head.
