by Elle Casey
The message ended, and Avia’s eyes burned as the file he’d attached popped up. She jabbed at it to keep it from playing, but autoplay had already kicked on. Ben’s face filled the screen. His tousled brown hair, his bright blue eyes, chubby cheeks, button nose. Avia stiffened in her seat, tears filling her eyes, but she couldn’t make herself stop the video.
Ben giggled and poked at the lens. The camera panned out as Grant pulled it away, and she could see the tray of bubbles at Ben’s feet. She choked back a sob and pressed her hand against her mouth. This was right before everyone had shown up for the party. She saw herself kneel down beside Ben.
“You dip the wand like this, Benny—watch.” Avia’s younger self, her happier self, the self who didn’t know the depth of pain she’d feel so soon, passed the wand through the bubbles and lifted it into the air.
Ben smiled and helped her blow an enormous bubble. It drifted through the air, and Ben chased after it. He clapped his hands together, popping it. “More, more!”
He ran back to Avia and jumped into her lap, snuggling in close. She wrapped one arm around his chest and dipped the wand again.
Ben lifted his face to gaze up at her. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too, Benny.” The old Avia beamed, cuddling Ben closer. “Now watch. Just like this.”
The video ended there, and Avia found herself smiling, even as the screen blurred through her tears. They’d been so happy together. The perfect little family. Ben was supposed to grow up, have his own family, his own children. But all that had been ripped away from him. Too soon. The empty space inside Avia ached so badly, like bandages had been ripped off an infected wound, reminding her of what she’d never have again.
She passed her hand through the video, as if she could touch the still image of a happier Avia snuggling Ben in her lap. The image rippled in response. She saved the video to her backup drive so she could watch it again later, and as she did, the truth hit her, knocking her breath away.
Grant hadn’t been able to move forward with her, because she’d been unable and unwilling to move forward at all.
But how could she be expected to ever move on after losing Ben? He’d grown within her womb, she’d nursed him, loved him, had gotten to know him for the short few years he’d blessed the earth with his life. No matter what, there would always be pain when she thought of him and what his life could have been.
But maybe… maybe the constant pain, the bitterness, the anger she felt toward Grant, toward Infinitek, toward all the things she had no power over—maybe that was holding her back. She’d lived this past year in a fog, never having the clarity she needed to move this project forward. That was the real reason she’d lost her funding.
New life can’t grow until you make space by clearing the old.
You tilled the earth after harvest, you planted new seeds. Maybe she could have saved the Protected Project if she’d found a way to make space for it. Or was the project, like Dalton had hinted, nothing but the sad obsession of a mother who’d lost her child too soon?
Avia wiped her cheeks and pulled up her research, knowing it might be for the last time.
As she opened the list of amino acid combinations she’d been working on, her hand froze, hovering in the air. Several of them had been highlighted and were blinking. Lizzy had done something when she’d taken the holotab last night. Is this what she’d done—highlight combinations? Avia shook her head and tapped them, opening each one in turn, until they were all lined up in a row.
Something in her mind shifted; pieces moved around. And then the answer she’d been seeking crystallized in the space that opened up. She hadn’t been trying the right combinations because she’d been trying each one alone. She needed to take pieces from each and assemble them to make a new combination. They went together.
She quickly gestured, drawing them into one file, and opened up the 3D protein model. She activated the program and waited, barely breathing, as it ran through the combinations.
Then it appeared.
100% match.
She jumped to her feet and leaned closer to the screen. Lizzy had somehow seen the solution in Avia’s mind and had led her straight to it. Avia’s hands shook as she commed Doctor Phan.
“You need to come to my lab right now. Infinitek’s going to want to fund the Protected Project.”
A Word from Autumn Kalquist
I’m trying to be optimistic about the future, but it’s not easy. You see the headlines. I’d like to believe we’re addicted to sensationalism, that the newscasts show a story uglier than the truth. But they don’t. And there’s probably a lot more that we’re not paying attention to.
I’m both fascinated and repelled by the idea of genetically engineering humans. But it’s going to happen. Will we be able to prevent disease, increase intelligence, and open up new areas of the brain—allowing for real-life empaths or telepaths? And even if we can, what price will we pay? Because everything in life has a cost.
Once some of us are genetically engineered and some of us are not—will there be a new class structure? Perhaps our DNA will provide a new way to include and exclude people; perhaps it will usher in a new era where genetic prejudice is the newest ideology to cause social strife.
“Decode” is a story about the potential cost of such experimentation—but it’s also a story about the hope we hold for a better future, and the belief that we can, with our resourcefulness and technology, deal with whatever happens next. I sit on the razor-thin edge between these two visions—excited about what we can achieve, but terrified of what will happen if we don’t properly weigh the costs before acting.
“Decode” is an origin story for my Fractured Era series (Defect, Legacy Code, and SunPath). All the books in Fractured Era tell the story of the costs associated with Infinitek’s experiments, including Avia’s Protected Project. Everything in life has a cost… and Infinitek’s projects demand a price that must be paid for centuries.
You can learn more about the Fractured Era series and hear songs from the official soundtrack at AutumnKalquist.com.
The Null
by Vincent Trigili
Evening, Day One: Assignment
They sat me in a chair and fitted restraints around my arms to keep me there. I could see the fear on their faces as they approached me; could smell the sweat soaking their clothes. To them, I represented an enigma, an emptiness their minds couldn’t reach. In an age where everyone had telepathic implants, where everyone was connected to everyone else one hundred percent of the time, my sealed mind was a fearsome thing.
“What do you want with me?” I demanded.
Agent Mikian sat across from me, his eyes fixed on my forehead. I could tell by his expression he was trying to probe my mind with his telepathic implant. I took advantage of his distracted state to slip out of my restraints. “Trying that again? You know that won’t work. You’re going to have to speak up.”
“Careful with your attitude, bounty hunter. We still have your family,” he said.
“Agent Mikian, the only reason you’re still alive right now is because I’ve decided to allow it.”
“One move against me and your daughter is dead,” he said. “Now, we can trade threats back and forth, or we can get to the point.”
“Then get to the point.”
“Samuel escaped.”
“Ah, I see. That is quite a problem for you.” Samuel was one of a very limited number of natural telepaths. He was also the most dangerous criminal mastermind ever to plague society.
He leaned in close. “You think you’re safe from him? You think your family is safe?”
“Of course we are. We have government agents like you to protect us, don’t we? What could ever go wrong?” I tried hard not to choke on these words. I had more reason to hate these agents than any criminal did.
“Very funny.” He leaned back in his chair and looked me over. I could tell he was nervous around me. I didn’t need to be a telepath to know t
hat. The beads of sweat across his forehead, the fidgeting of his hands, his closed posture… they told me volumes. “I’ll make this simple for you. Capture him and bring him back to us, dead or alive, and your family goes free. Fail, and they will suffer for your crimes.”
“Tell me, Agent Mikian: why should I trust you?” I asked.
“Let’s not play games. There’s no trust in our relationship. If I had my way, you’d be dead, and I’m sure that feeling is mutual right now.” He slid a datapad over to me. “On this pad is everything we have on him. It’ll give you a place to start.”
I smiled, because I knew it worried him to see me smile. “What makes you think I can’t kill you where you sit?” I stood up then, allowing the restraints to fall to the floor. “Did you really think those could hold me?”
He attempted to jump out of his seat but I pushed him back down and leaned in real close. “Do you feel that?” I slowly let some of my power into his mind. “That is what nothingness feels like, Agent Mikian. Your mind can’t comprehend it. Nature abhors a vacuum, and that is all you will get from me.”
I picked up the datapad, leaned in even closer to him, and whispered, “If anything happens to my family, I will come for you.”
I stood and walked toward the door. As I opened it and walked out, a voice yelled, “Guards!”
Men and women poured into the corridor with weapons drawn. I paused, waiting.
“Let him go,” said Agent Mikian from behind me.
The security forces kept their guns trained on me, but I strode right past them. I knew that one blast from any of those weapons would scatter my molecules across the room, but I also knew that they were afraid their guns wouldn’t work. I was that rare oddity in their world of complete knowledge—a mystery—and they had long ago lost the ability to deal with the unknown.
I exited the building and headed for my speed-cycle, then turned and cheerfully waved to the guards before climbing in. Immediately I was surrounded by inertia-dampening gel. I sighed with pleasure as I punched the throttle to the max and took off with reckless abandon. There’s nothing quite like the feel of raw speed. The knowledge that a tiny error will spell death, combined with the scenery rushing by almost too fast to see, is euphoric.
My tactical sensors lit up, warning me that local police forces were being dispatched to my location, but they quickly broke off. I suspected that Agent Mikian had called them off. Once I was out of secure airspace, I slowed down and merged with the normal traffic flow.
I thought I had left this life behind. I’d married a beautiful woman and had a wonderful child. We had a nice ranch in the mountains away from society and were happy. That was until the government troops raided my home while I was out hunting and kidnapped my wife and child.
“How in the world did Samuel escape?” I wondered out loud. He was supposed to have been kept in cryogenic sleep until a means of dealing with his powers could be discovered. Some idiotic government employee must have woken him. But why?
Samuel’s natural abilities meant that he didn’t need implants, which made him untraceable and put him outside the control of the government. I suspected it was that inability to control him that they feared, more than anything he could actually do.
As I approached my house I saw a pillar of smoke. I broke out of traffic and accelerated to maximum velocity. As I executed a flyby of my property I saw the city fire suppression teams rushing to respond, but it was too late. There was nothing left of my house save a blackened crater.
Cursing vehemently, I landed and rushed to see if anything was left. Two firemen moved to intercept me.
“Let me through!”
“Sir, please,” said one. “You can’t go up there. It’s not safe.”
“What do you mean, I can’t go up there? That was my house!” I said.
“I’m sorry, sir, but toxic fallout levels are too high. No one can approach.”
I started to reach out to strike him down, but instead I forced myself to take a deep breath. I had to tell myself several times that he wasn’t the bad guy before I could get it to stick. “What happened?” I demanded.
“We don’t know yet. Please, sir, just head over there and someone will be right with you.”
I looked again at the crater. There was truly nothing left. Everything I had built, every memory I had created with my family was gone. I would never again come home to my daughter running out to hug me, through the door I had built with my own two hands. My wife would never again sit in front of my mother’s mirror brushing out her hair. My daughter’s trophies, my wife’s art, everything we had built together—it was all gone.
I returned to my speed-cycle and sent a picture of the ruins to Agent Mikian, demanding an explanation, knowing it was unlikely he would have one for me.
“We’re sending agents to investigate,” came the response.
“Great!” Because that would make everything so much better.
I started to climb into my cycle when a police officer approached. “Sir, I need you to stay for questioning.”
“No, you don’t,” I said and continued to climb into my cycle.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The officer drew his weapon. “I do.”
I had had enough. I looked down the barrel of the officer’s gun and lashed out with my mental power. I forced into his mind the concept of nothingness; I drove all higher thoughts out of his mind, pushing him into a helpless trance. I had to force myself to break off before I drove even his lower thoughts from his mind, which would have shut down all of his body functions completely.
The officer’s eyes glazed over and he fell to the ground. Eventually his mind would reboot, and in a day or two he would be fine. But for now, he was safely incapacitated. Two other officers ran to assist, but before they could arrive I finished my preflight and took off. I sent a message to Agent Mikian telling him to deal with the police, and I headed to my old hideout.
Morning, Day Two: Back From The Dead
The next morning I woke early and sat at my terminal. It hadn’t been turned on in years. In fact, I had thought it would never be turned on again, and I hesitated to do it now. I had killed the old me for a reason, and the thought of his return scared me more than Samuel ever could.
My comm beeped insistently, telling me there was a message. It was a message left to the new me: the middle-class husband and father, the coach and teacher who lived a peaceful life in the mountains with his family.
I gave in to the comm’s persistence and played the message. “It’s a shame about your house, but at least your family wasn’t there. It would be a real pity if something happened to them. You should mind your own business if you want to prevent a tragedy.”
I recognized the voice. Samuel. A man I had once called friend and confidant. It was his voice, but there was something wrong with the words.
I called Agent Mikian, and before he could even get a greeting out, I asked, “Are they safe?” There was silence on the other end of the line. “They’re not, then.”
“Yes, they are,” he said. “But Samuel is on the move and has already destroyed a safe house where we’d planted a decoy.”
I cursed and said, “If they’re harmed, it’s on you!”
“The only way to ensure their safety now is for you to take down Samuel,” Mikian said quietly.
A rage burned inside me. “You intentionally let it leak that I was assigned to the case.” The government had complete control of the information that flowed through everyone’s implants. The only way information like this could get out is if someone deliberately allowed it.
“Of course not!” he insisted.
I knew he was lying. “After Samuel, you’re next.” I disconnected the channel.
I fired up my terminal and entered in the access codes necessary to wake the life I’d left behind. I took the datapad that Agent Mikian had given me and uploaded all its data into my system.
“Computer, search for maximum security prison breaks or related event
s in the last month,” I said.
“One record found,” responded the computer.
The news report showed the smoldering remains of the prison in the background as an attractive brunette reported, “It is not yet known what caused the explosion, but authorities believe that no one survived. The entire area has been quarantined due to the toxic levels of psionic fallout.”
“No, I think there was at least one survivor,” I said to the news reporter. I clicked off the report and started a search for similar explosions in the past month. Only two others matched: my house and a seemingly random house across town.
Samuel was dangerous, but there was no way he could have blown up that prison without help. He would have had no access to that kind of weapon in there, even if he’d somehow miraculously woken up by himself. No, there was only one person I knew who had access to those kinds of weapons—and too little sense to refuse to sell them.
I headed to the back of my hideout and opened a closet that I had sworn I would never open again. In the back was a safe. I started to place my hand on the biometric-secured latch, then hesitated. A chill ran down my spine as I remembered the horrors I had witnessed in my past life.
I might have turned back then, but for my wife and daughter. “You can do this,” I said to myself. “You have to, for them.”
I activated the latch; the safe’s door slid up with a swoosh. Inside hung a pure black set of body armor, so black that all the light in the closet seemed to fall into it and get trapped. Hanging next to it was a backpack containing various tools of my former trade. Above it hung a set of pulse pistols and an assault rifle.
“You can do this,” I said to myself again. “Just one more time.” I knew I was lying, but it didn’t matter. I had no choice. I was the only one that could stop Samuel, and everyone knew it. The only question was, who could stop the monster I would become again?
I suited up in my armor and grabbed my equipment. Before heading out I looked at myself in the mirror, struggling again to see myself as others would. My military-issue armor was encoded with a special telepathic identification code, one that would instruct normal civilian implants to replace the image of the armor and weapons with something more benign. Something from their own memories, something fitting for the situation. Like Samuel, I had no implants, so I couldn’t see this camouflage effect, which meant I would never know if the camouflage ever failed.
