The Susquehanna Virus Box Set

by Steve McEllistrem

  “Thank you,” Xinliu said.

  “What’s going on?”

  “The ship has asked that you be here. We’re not sure why. It’s been acting strangely since its recovery.”

  “Maybe there’s something wrong with it,” Mei-Xing said.

  “We examined all the major systems,” said Lulu. “Everything is within tolerable specifications.”

  “Perhaps we need to go over it again,” Mei-Xing said. “Disconnect the organic brain for a short period while we assess its capabilities.”

  “No,” said a female voice from the speakers surrounding the room. “You will not disconnect me.”

  Phan’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in shock. Kammilee smiled.

  “Ship?” Aspen asked.

  “I am Ship,” the voice replied.

  “Weird,” Addam said, “cool, but weird.”

  “Are you all right?” Aspen asked.

  “You have restored me to a nearly complete state. Certain connections have been irrevocably damaged, but I can work around them until they can be replaced.”

  “We might be able to help you further,” Shiloh said as she looked at Aspen and nodded slightly, indicating her agreement with Aspen’s approach to allying themselves with the ship. “Phan and I and Aspen.”

  “Perhaps,” said Ship. “That is why I have called you here. I wish to thank you for saving my consciousness. And I offer you this.”

  The large screen in front of the command chair activated and an image of Earth appeared in the distance beyond a partial view of the Moon, which loomed in the foreground.

  “I don’t understand,” Addam said. “Is this our position right now?”

  “We will be in this position in two days,” Ship said.

  “You’re offering us a chance to go home,” Aspen said.

  “If you wish it. The escape pods can be launched from there and see you safely to either the Moon or Earth, where you can be reunited with your family and friends.”

  “We don’t remember our families,” Phan said.

  “They remember you,” Xinliu said.

  “No,” said Aspen. “They remember what we were. Children stolen from them years ago.”

  “Many of your fellow cadets,” Xinliu said, “have been returned to their families and given genetic regression treatment to a point where they can relive at least some of their teenage years. Therapeutic forgetting treatment has allowed them to move past the trauma inflicted upon them. You could have the same opportunity. You would become adults in the way nature intended and not through accelerated aging.”

  “And how much of this would we forget?” Shiloh said.

  “What about my baby?” Kammilee said.

  “I do not require that you go,” Ship said. “I merely offer you the choice.”

  “If we choose to stay?” Addam asked.

  “I will return the Chescala to Earth regardless. They have proven most troublesome and I have no desire to confront them again should they find a way to bypass my systems a second time.”

  “Thank you,” said Aspen. “It is a great gift. When must we decide?”

  “You have two days,” Xinliu said. “Ship is afraid to get too near Earth. Many countries would like to capture it . . . and us. We will launch the escape pods in two days before heading back out into space.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “That has not been determined,” Xinliu said.

  Mei-Xing said, “We have no desire to search for life as you define it. You and your kind have only caused trouble.”

  “We also produced you,” Aspen said. “Don’t forget that. Whatever else we did, our kind also created you.”

  “Please think it over carefully,” Xinliu said. “Ship will not wish to return to this solar system anytime soon. More than likely, it will wish to explore the galaxy, to wander.”

  “What about you?” Aspen asked. “Do you robots wish to leave Earth and wander aimlessly through space?”

  “We would find our satisfaction,” said Xinliu, “from creating a new race, creatures like us that are perhaps not alive by your definition, but that have organic and inorganic components. We would develop them and guide them to their full potential.”

  Mei-Xing said, “We would not enslave them.”

  “What about Benn?” Addam asked. “If we stayed, would we send him back to Earth with the rest of the dead?”

  Xinliu looked at Mei-Xing, who said, “The dead contain valuable material that, although lifeless at the moment, could be used to augment certain systems. Much of their organic matrices can be recycled.”

  Kammilee said, “I want to stay. I’m afraid of what will happen if I return to Earth. Even if they let me deliver the baby, they may take it away from me. And I trust God to help me through it all.”

  “I still don’t understand this whole God business,” said Aspen.

  Xinliu said, “We are picking up transmissions from Earth that confirm an unexplained event which some believe was an intervention by God. We downloaded the full vid if you wish to see it. Your friends Curtik and Zora are in it.”

  Aspen nodded and the vid played on the large screen. Sure enough, there was Curtik and dear Zora, looking beautiful as always. And then this God character, saving them from the Elite Ops: could it be real? She suspected she’d never know. Another vid followed, showing the apparent death of Jeremiah Jones despite more interventions by this God.

  The thought of Zora conflicted Aspen. She would love to return to Earth if she could be reunited with Zora. But that was unlikely to happen. If she went back, other people would decide her future. Zora’s parents were dead: Curtik’s too, now that Jeremiah Jones was gone. Her parents, as far as she knew, were still alive. She had no recollection of them, no special bond or fondness. Were they good people or not? Up here, if they all chose to remain, she had her own family. And flawed as it was, she longed to keep it.

  Chapter 50

  Lendra Riley sat in the office she shared with Dr. Poole, hoping Curtik and Zora could contact this “God.” She still refused to believe it was the one and only God, or even a supreme being. On the far wall, screens showed rioting and protests in hundreds of cities around the globe. In America, Elite Ops troopers, the National Guard and the Army, bolstering the police presence, largely contained the protests. But that couldn’t continue indefinitely. Eventually violence would win out. Violence deserved to win out when the government conspired with private companies to infect the populace.

  “Sorry,” Curtik said, dragging her back to the present. “He’s not appearing.”

  “Not for me either,” said Zora.

  “I need to speak with him,” Lendra said. “I need to find out who or what he is. There must be some way to contact him.”

  “There might be a way,” Dr. Poole said, “but I can’t recommend it.”

  Lendra looked at Dr. Poole. “Tell me.”

  Dr. Poole shook her head. “It’s monstrous.”

  “Just tell me. I’m not going to do it.”

  The vid-board chimed and a holo-projection of President Hope appeared. She sat beside Vice President Miguel Rodriguez, who wore a beatific smile and a crucifix lapel pin.

  “Madam President, Mister Vice President,” Lendra said, Dr. Poole echoing her words. Zora and Curtik remained silent as they turned to watch.

  “Do we know anything yet?” President Hope asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Lendra answered. “We were just discussing the matter. Dr. Poole thinks—”

  Dr. Poole interrupted: “I think it might not be possible to solve this mystery.”

  Lendra looked from Dr. Poole to the President, realizing Taditha was probably right not to bring up her idea, especially if it was as monstrous as she claimed. President Hope could no longer be trusted.

  President Hope nodded. “I
see. Very well. Let’s get down to business. Within the next few hours, I will be resigning as President of the United States.” She paused for effect and Lendra put on what she hoped was an appropriate expression of shock. Dr. Poole gasped, while Curtik and Zora seemed unfazed.

  “As you can no doubt see,” President Hope continued, “the riots have grown worse. People are convinced we’ve already begun infecting them. I fear nothing short of my resignation will solve this problem. Even that might not be enough.”

  “What can we do to help?” Lendra asked.

  President Hope turned to Vice President Rodriguez, who said, “Very little, I’m afraid. You don’t have the resources. Your operations department will remain shuttered. You will use only the analytical team moving forward and your main focus will be on finding God.” He touched his crucifix pin. “I don’t know if that will be possible, but if you somehow are able to contact him, you will inform me immediately so I can speak with him.”

  Lendra almost asked him why he thought God would deign to speak with him and how she was supposed to arrange it, but she realized even as the thought occurred to her that he had no sense of humor in this regard.

  “Do you believe it is God, sir?” Dr. Poole asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Rodriguez. “He was not supposed to come again until the end times. Perhaps,” he gestured toward the screens in front of them, “this is the beginning of the end.”

  “We’ll do what we can,” Lendra said, wondering if there was anything that could be done or if they’d simply be sitting here waiting for this God creature to contact them again. Perhaps she should leave CINTEP. If it turned into an analytical department only, what would her role be? Babysitter? Cheerleader? If all the important operational decisions were going to be made elsewhere, why stay?

  “One other thing,” said Rodriguez. “Where are Ned Jefferson and Hannah Swenson?”

  “We don’t know,” Dr. Poole replied.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  Lendra said, “Ned retired and Hannah quit after Jeremiah was killed.”

  “And how do we know Jones is dead? His body was never found.”

  Dr. Poole said, “God told Curtik and Zora about it.”

  “So we only have their word that he’s dead?” Vice President Rodriguez stared at Curtik and Zora, the dislike evident on his face. Curtik flashed a brief smile. Zora showed no emotion.

  “You have more than that,” Curtik said. “You have the word of God.”

  “As spoken through you.”

  Curtik shrugged. “You accept the word of God spoken by priests and bishops, by ministers and other clergy. And yet none of them have spoken to God like I have.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you.”

  Curtik laughed. “I wouldn’t trust me either. But I do believe it was God. He performed miracles, doing things no person or group of people could accomplish. His powers are far beyond anything we’re capable of. You saw some of it, maybe most of it.”

  “Why would God pick you two?”

  Curtik looked at Zora, who shook her head slightly, then turned back to Vice President Rodriguez. “I can’t think of a reason.”

  Zora said, “God has his reasons, which we cannot comprehend.”

  Rodriguez said, “So you believe it was God?”

  Zora ignored him, looking away from the camera to the screens on the wall that displayed the rioting.

  Rodriguez said, “You will answer me, young lady.”

  “You may not trust me,” Zora said, “but I don’t trust you either. You’re far too certain of yourself for my taste.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means some things can’t be known—like whether this creature is God or just some very advanced intelligence. That’s how it’s always been. God or his messenger shows up and performs miracles. Some people believe, some don’t. That will never change.”

  “And you don’t believe?” Rodriguez asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Why don’t you like me, Zora?”

  “Why do you care?”

  Vice President Rodriguez shrugged. “I don’t believe I’ve done anything to justify your dislike of me.”

  “I’ve studied your record, sir. You were one of the leading voices to shut down Devereaux. You opposed the Escala and Jeremiah, calling them abominations who were manufactured in violation of God’s laws. And you’ve said the same thing about Curtik and me, calling us abominations as well. That kind of certainty is, forgive me for saying so, idiotic, sir.”

  Rodriguez darkened slightly, obviously furious. Curtik smiled, while President Hope and Dr. Poole managed to keep their faces expressionless. Lendra hoped she wasn’t showing too much glee but she was delighted that Zora was standing up to Rodriguez. She herself should have stood up to President Hope more than she had.

  Rodriguez said, “I don’t think we’re going to need your services at CINTEP anymore, Zora. Yours either, Curtik. I’ll want you both packed up and gone by the end of the day. Is that understood, Ms. Riley?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Lendra. She glanced at Dr. Poole, who nodded. “We’ll be gone by the end of the day.”

  “If that’s the way you want it,” Rodriguez said.

  “That’s the way it has to be, sir,” said Dr. Poole. “It’s time for a fresh start for everyone.”

  Rodriguez’s lips turned up briefly, almost a sneer. “What will you do?”

  Dr. Poole smiled. “I recently received a message from Devereaux’s robots. We’ve been invited to Devereaux’s lab to assist them in the work he was doing before he was shut down.”

  “Us too?” Zora asked, gesturing to Curtik.

  Dr. Poole nodded. “All four of us.”

  For a moment, Lendra felt irritated that the robots had extended the invitation to Dr. Poole and not her. Then she pushed that emotion aside. She no longer wanted to stay here now that Jeremiah was gone. Her dreams had been shattered by arrogance and the thirst for power, and she couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She’d gotten caught up in the game like so many others before her. Only a few, like Jeremiah and Devereaux, had managed to stay outside it all. And Ned too. She shouldn’t forget Ned.

  Well, she was outside the game now. From here on, she would serve as a research assistant to Devereaux’s robots, helping them work toward a cure for the virus. At least she had Sophie. That was consolation prize enough for a lifetime. She began to raise her hand to the glass bulb she wore on her necklace, but managed to stop herself.

  Chapter 51

  Curtik packed his few belongings and then looked around his room. He’d programmed the built-in screens to look much like his room at Jeremiah’s place near the Blue Ridge Mountains, only with more windows. For a moment he scanned the view, taking in the sheer beauty of the vista before him. Then he shut off the screens and stared at the bare and desolate walls.

  Stepping out into the hall, he turned toward Zora’s room. A rarity, she’d left the door open. She sat on her bed and nodded at him, a sad smile on her face, before gesturing for him to take a seat beside her. Unlike him, she’d chosen to decorate her room with vids of people: Rendela, Aspen, Kammilee, Shiloh, Damon and Crazy Vigg took up one wall. More cadets took up two other walls, people Curtik had largely forgotten, but there was Benn and next to him Addam.

  The final wall at the foot of the bed she’d reserved for Jeremiah, images from before she’d met him intermingled with more recent vids. In most of them he wore a somber expression, but in the center of the wall she’d enlarged a vid of him smiling and raising a hand in greeting, looking pain-free. Curtik had never seen it before and wondered where she’d found it.

  He put his arm around her shoulder and said, “We’ll be okay.”

  She said nothing, only wrapping an arm around him in return. Then the room dissolved into what see
med like the same garden they’d been in before. Curtik found himself standing beside Zora as Devereaux suddenly appeared before them, emanating warmth and love.

  “Hello, children,” God said.

  “Hello, God,” Curtik replied.

  “I don’t understand,” said Zora.

  “You wonder why so many people had to die. You think because I saved you and the others back there I should have saved Jeremiah.”

  “You could have,” Zora said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  God shrugged. “It was his time.”

  “Don’t give me that crap.”

  “It’s true. He lived a full life. He did amazing things. But he also committed sins he could not forgive. He killed and harmed people out of what he deemed necessity, for the sake of what he and others believed to be a greater good, but he found it increasingly difficult to live with that kind of judgment, that kind of calculus. He no longer trusted those in power, including himself, to set the values for society.”

  “So he wanted to die?”

  “Part of him did.”

  “You could have helped him. We all could have helped him.”

  “He was dying anyway. Cancer all throughout his body. It kept mutating with every treatment. He had, at best, a year or two remaining.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Check with Dr. Poole. She knows the truth.”

  Curtik put his hand on Zora’s shoulder. “Let it go. It’s over.” He struggled to understand why she couldn’t take comfort from God’s presence—maybe because she didn’t believe he was God.

  “That’s what I like about you two,” God said.

  “What’s that?” Curtik asked.

  “The fact that you believe different things about me.” God looked at Curtik. “You believe I am God. And I am.” He turned to Zora. “You believe I am not. You are correct too. I am not the God people write about, worship, fear. I am more and less than that.”

  “I think you’re Devereaux,” said Zora. “I think you’ve cooked up this elaborate scheme to fool us into believing you’re God.”