New Frontiers- The Complete Series

by Jasper T. Scott

  “I’m sorry,” McAdams said, rubbing his hand.

  “Don’t be. Plenty of people lost their families to the Mindscape. At least I had another one waiting for me.”

  McAdams smiled, her blue eyes shining bright.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I didn’t have anyone waiting for me after the war, and it took me a while…” she looked away. “It took me a while to get over you. By the time I did, the Mindscape was everywhere, and dating was more virtual than real. Virtual relationships filled the hole for a while—until one day I decided to meet up with my virtual boyfriend in the real world. We planned to get married for real. We were old-fashioned I guess. We even discussed having real kids someday.”

  Alexander regarded her beneath a furrowed brow. “What happened?”

  McAdams smiled. “When I met him, I discovered that he was about five feet tall, skinny as a reed, and had a face like a scarecrow.”

  Alexander barked a short laugh, then quickly stifled it with a cough. “Sorry,” he said. “So he wasn’t a gener like you.”

  “No. I guess now you think I’m superficial.”

  Alexander shrugged. “Everyone is to some extent. What did he look like in the mindscapes?”

  “Tall, dark, and handsome, of course.”

  “Of course,” Alexander replied. “So what did you do?”

  “I broke off the engagement. He was heartbroken.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure he got over it with some virtual hookers.”

  “He wasn’t like that.”

  “No? I thought everyone was like that these days.”

  “Are you?” McAdams asked, her eyes measuring.

  “Call me old-fashioned, but I never liked virtual hookers.”

  McAdams nodded.

  “I prefer the real ones,” he explained.

  Her eyes widened suddenly, and Alexander held her gaze for a second before cracking a smile. “I’m kidding, Viviana.”

  “Oh.” She blinked and relief softened her features.

  Alexander’s comm band buzzed. “Admiral de Leon speaking.”

  “Admiral, Hayes here, we have a reply from the Solarian ship. You want to come back down to the bridge, or should I patch it through to your comm?”

  “Patch it through.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alexander held his wrist out for both him and McAdams to watch as a hologram materialized above his comm band. They saw a man wearing a deep maroon combat suit with black piping—Solarian Navy colors. The silver star on his right breast marked him as a captain. He sat in an acceleration couch, though that could have been virtual rather than real, depending on how many Gs the enemy ship was pulling. The Solarian captain’s face was long and narrow and very pale, no doubt due to generations of living under the dreary Martian sky. The captain’s crimson eyes and black hair struck a fierce contrast to his ghostly complexion, making him look demonic. Red eyes were fashionable for Martians. Alexander noticed that the man’s face was perfectly symmetrical, his features sculpted, and his complexion completely smooth. This was the face of a gener—not that it should surprise him. Mars wasn’t any different from Earth when it came to how people engineered their children. The main difference was that they were still having children.

  “Admiral de Leon,” the man said in a deep, resonant voice. “This is Captain Vrokovich of the Crimson Warrior. I was disappointed that your hail came to me via your comms officer rather than from you personally. I would have liked to hear from the Lion of Liberty face-to-face. Word of what happened to Earth reached us soon after your hail. Fortunately so, or else I might not have been so understanding when I received your demands to know our flight plan and the purpose of our mission. The Alliance has our condolences, Admiral, but let me assure you personally that we had nothing to do with any of the missiles fired at either Earth or the Moon. May the Architect be with your people in these troubled times. Vrokovich out.”

  The captain’s face faded away, and Alexander activated his comm band again to speak with his comms officer. “Hayes, send that message to Fleet Command and ask them how we should proceed.”

  “Aye, sir… Message away.”

  “Good, let me know when they reply. De Leon out.”

  “The Architect?” McAdams asked as Alexander went back to his Scotch.

  Alexander turned to her with a curious look. Then he remembered how Captain Vrokovich had ended his message. “You’ve never heard of the Universal Architect?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “For Solarians the Universal Architect is analogous to God for Earthers, but while we still have multiple different religions and multiple different gods, the Solarians have just one religion and one god—Simulism and the Architect.”

  “So Captain Vrokovich is a Simulist,” McAdams replied. “Interesting. I never really understood what Simulists believe.”

  “It’s simple. They believe that we’re living inside a simulation.”

  McAdams chuckled. “That doesn’t take any faith. Most of us are living in a simulation. You and I are in one right now.”

  “Simulists would say this mindscape is just another level of simulation. They believe the physical universe and everything in it is like the Mindscape, except that we never wake up from it—until we die, that is.”

  “So the Universal Architect is…”

  “Whatever entity created the simulation,” Alexander said.

  “What led people to think we’re in a simulation in the first place? Just because it’s possible?”

  “It’s actually an old theory, but if you look at the Mindscape, it’s not hard to believe. How can you tell that we’re not actually here in the officer’s lounge right now?”

  “Because I remember entering this mindscape, and I’m aware of the reality behind it.”

  “Right, but a lot of mindscapes suppress that awareness to make virtual worlds seem more real. When that happens, you can’t tell the difference between virtual and real.”

  “The scale of virtual worlds is smaller,” McAdams argued. “Go far enough and eventually you’ll hit a wall past which nothing else is simulated.”

  “Yes and no. Some of our virtual worlds are procedurally infinite, so it’s hard to find that boundary, but we’re not really talking about what we’re capable of doing right now. For all we know our world and all of our mindscapes are part of a much larger simulation being run by us or some other species in the far future.”

  “What would be the point of that?” McAdams asked.

  Alexander shrugged. “History lessons. Entertainment. A prison? The possibilities are endless.”

  “Sounds unlikely to me.”

  “Not really. Think about it in terms of us right now. How many people spend the majority of their time in mindscapes rather than the real world?”

  “Most people I guess.”

  “So the majority of people are already living in a simulated reality and the ones in full immersion mindscapes aren’t even aware of that fact until they wake up. That’s a pretty compelling argument right there.”

  “But it doesn’t prove that we’re still in some higher level of simulation even after we wake up from the Mindscape.”

  “No? Suppose that in the future we create a full immersion Mindscape that’s identical to the real world, complete with its own mindscapes running inside of it. How do you know that you aren’t in that world right now?”

  “You just gave me chills.”

  Alexander smiled. “Not so far-fetched after all, huh?”

  McAdams nodded slowly. “Trying to convert me, Admiral?”

  Alexander laughed. “No, I’m just trying to pass the time. Besides, between the alcohol and convincing myself that our reality isn’t actually real, it helps me forget that I just let millions of people die.” Alexander drained his glass one last time and shook his head. The room was starting to spin.

  He felt McAdams’ hand on his again. This time she laced her fingers through his. �
�It wasn’t your fault, Alex.”

  “Maybe not, but it was someone’s fault.”

  McAdams nodded. “The Solarians. Or some other enemy we have yet to meet.”

  Alexander snorted. “Right—aliens. I’d sooner believe it was the Solarians, but if I’m right, then things are about to get a lot worse. Earth has spent the last three decades scuttling its fleet, while the Solarians have spent the last three decades building theirs.”

  “Our fleet is still stronger than theirs.”

  Alexander nodded. “For now.”

  His comm band chimed, interrupting them with an incoming message. He answered it. “Admiral de Leon here.”

  “Admiral, it’s Hayes again. I have a reply from Fleet Command along with updated orders.”

  “Patch it through, Lieutenant.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Fleet Admiral Anderson’s face appeared hovering in the air above Alexander’s comm band. The admiral’s short blond hair was unwashed and pasted to his scalp. His gray eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks gaunt, suggesting that he hadn’t eaten or slept much since the attacks began.

  “Admiral Leon, the Solarian Ship did not answer our request for their flight plan nor did they state the purpose of their mission. They blatantly ignored our inquiries and masked that fact with well-wishes for our people. Under the circumstances, we cannot allow this type of secrecy. You are cleared to engage the enemy as soon as you reach weapons range. Shoot to disable and then board the enemy ship. We’re looking for any evidence that they may be the ones who attacked us. Anderson out.”

  Alexander gaped at the hologram as it faded to black. “They want us to start a war!” He pounded the bar with his fists, rattling their glasses. He shook his head incredulously and turned to McAdams. “The last time I was in the Navy, I was ordered to start a war. Now, no sooner am I back and they want me to start another one! I won a Nobel Peace Prize for negotiating the end of The Last War, but here we go again. Do you have any idea how ironic that is?”

  McAdams nodded soberly. “Irony is still a bitch, sir.”

  “A two-timing bitch!”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  Alexander blew out a breath. What could he do? He could disobey orders. He’d gotten lucky with that the last time, but would he get away with it again?

  Doubtful. After what had happened on Earth, people wanted a target—the Solarians were a logical fit, even he had to admit that, and if he refused to be the instrument of the Alliance’s retribution, it would look like cowardice not prudence.

  But what was it really? He was almost positive the Solarians were responsible for the attacks, so why didn’t he want to fire back? Maybe I’m a pacifist. Forcing the Solarians to go from covert to overt tactics would only result in even more people dead. What would happen when Earth and the Solarians started trading relativistic blows?

  “Sir?”

  Alexander sent a mental command to clear his buzzing head of all the virtual alcohol. He needed to think clearly now.

  “If we do what they’re asking, we could start a relativistic war that could end up making the entire human race extinct.”

  “I disagree, sir. Just because we can annihilate ourselves doesn’t mean that we will—whether there’s open war or not. If the Solarians are attacking us, then they’re obviously not trying to completely destroy the Earth. If we can prove that the Solarians were responsible for the attacks, then hopefully our leaders will be smart enough to avoid a relativistic war.”

  Alexander nodded. “I hope you’re right, Commander.”

  “History agrees with me, Admiral. Even The Last War fell far short of global annihilation. I disagree with our orders, but I’m not convinced that they’ll result in open war.

  “Besides, Fleet Command made no mention of the fact that we’re in an aging dauntless-class battleship going up against a modern Solarian dreadnought. That ship is twice the size of ours and far better equipped. It could defeat two Adamantines and still limp into battle with a third. Either Fleet Command thinks very highly of your abilities, sir, or they’re bluffing.”

  “Or they’re so desperate for blood that they don’t mind shedding some of ours to get it,” Alexander replied.

  “Let’s hope it’s a bluff, sir.”

  Alexander grimaced. “If it isn’t, we’re about to learn the truth about Simulism the hard way.”

  Chapter 11

  Catalina was surprised when her audience with the president brought her to a bunker below the presidential palace. The president’s last public address had shown him above ground, sitting in his office as he reassured the entire world that the missile that hit them was a fluke, and people had nothing to fear. There was something hypocritical about telling people not to be afraid when you were hiding out in a bunker fifty floors below ground.

  “Senator Day Lee-on? The president is ready to see you now,” his secretary announced, mangling Catalina’s surname with her accent.

  Catalina turned to regard the president’s secretary—a woman with bright violet eyes and striking black hair that shimmered a matching violet wherever the light hit. “Thank you,” she said, rising from the chair where she’d spent the past twenty minutes staring at the bare concrete walls of the bunker.

  Catalina turned and walked up to a pair of matte black bodyguard drones flanking the entrance of the president’s office. One of them held out a hand. “Halt. Please wait while you are scanned for weapons and explosive devices.”

  Catalina took a breath and held it, enduring the indignity of the body scan as a fan of blue light flickered out from one of the bot’s chests. She’d already been scanned twice prior—once at the entrance of the Presidential Palace, and again at the entrance of the bunker. At least bots took no interest in how she looked underneath her clothes, which was more than she could say for the human guards at the entrance of the palace. She wondered if everyone was submitted to as much suspicion, or just League party members.

  A pleasant tone sounded and the bot who’d scanned her said, “You may proceed, Senator de Leon.”

  The doors swished open, revealing an exact replica of the president’s above-ground oval office. Catalina walked in to find the president sitting on one of the couches, watching a 3D hologram rising from the coffee table in front of him. The president was so focused on the news that he didn’t appear to notice her come in. The holofeed was from the Alliance News Network (ANN). At the moment it showed a pair of talking heads, one of them a news anchor, the other Former Navy Admiral Lars Becker—or so read the caption below his side of the transmission. The man looked to be at least seventy years old, with thinning gray hair, gaunt, wrinkled cheeks, and hollow, watery blue eyes. Catalina studied that face curiously as she approached. There was no way that man had voluntarily chosen to have such a frail appearance. That meant he had to have been born before scientists had found a way to shackle the hands of time—or least before they had done so for everyone, rich and poor alike.

  Catalina stopped beside the president’s couch. “Hello, Mr. President…” she began.

  He glanced her way and nodded. “Please take a seat, Senator.”

  She looked from Wallace to the holofeed and back again before sitting in one of the armchairs. “What is this?”

  He flung out a hand, as if to slap the hologram. “Another disaster!”

  Puzzled, Catalina fixed her attention on the newsfeed.

  “…so you’re saying this is definitely not a Solarian attack?” the news anchor asked.

  Admiral Becker spread his hands. “What do the Solarians stand to gain from attacking us? If we go to war, they’ll lose. The attacks didn’t cripple us; they just made us angry.”

  “So how does that play into your alien invasion theory? Why would these Watchers of yours hit us with warning shots rather than a full-scale invasion?”

  Becker shrugged. “Maybe they are testing their aim. And I doubt it’s their goal to wipe us out. They want to weaken us for conquest—
or in this case, for infestation.”

  “I see. You mentioned to our viewers that you have proof.”

  “I do.”

  “And this proof is in the form of…”

  “Classified transmissions from the Intrepid dating back more than fifty years ago. Compare those transmissions to the ones we received from the Looking Glass before the lunar attack, and you’ll see the similarities are extraordinary.”

  The news anchor nodded sagely, as if he were already convinced. “I understand that you’ve shown these transmissions before, and that is what earned you a dishonorable discharge from the Navy.”

  A muscle twitched in Becker’s cheek and he nodded stiffly. “Yes. I thought the public had a right to know what we found. The government disagreed. There was an extensive cover-up, and I was made to look like a fool.” The man blew out a deep breath. His deflated lungs left him looking shriveled. He appeared to be drowning in his old Navy uniform, nothing but a skeleton underneath. Catalina stifled a gasp, feeling a twinge of revulsion and pity for the man.

  The news anchor nodded once more. “For those of us who might not remember, could you explain what the Intrepid’s mission was about, Admiral?”

  “Of course. It was a mission to explore and colonize another star system. Our nearest star with Earth-type planets was considered to be Wolf 1061, an M class red dwarf 13.8 light years away, located in the Ophiuchus Constellation. We determined that Wolf 1061C and 1061D would be good candidates for colonization. What most people didn’t give much weight to at the time was that if these planets were so habitable, then there was also a chance that they could already be inhabited.”

  “What happened to the Intrepid, Admiral?”

  “That depends upon who you ask.”

  “We’re asking you.”

  Becker nodded and smiled, his watery blue eyes suddenly bright and intense. “They encountered intelligent life, but it turned out to be hostile.”

  “Chilling words. We’ll be back with you in a minute, Admiral, while we show our viewers what you’re talking about.”