Remember the Starfighter (19 page)

She wished it was an error, a wayward protocol gone rogue. Perhaps a neural node had become unhinged. Or maybe a stability field had abruptly dispersed. Whatever it was she needed to know. Something to shed light on the phenomena inside. An explanation to justify her current predicament. She was frantic.

The diagnostics had come through. The end result the same. “Repairs completed,” they had said. “No damage detected.”

It was not the first time she had read the scans. Nor would it be the last. The deep diagnostic, initiated on her own behest, had just cycled through her entire body, sending nearly every internal system into hibernation mode. Over a billion times she had initiated the scan, hoping to find the anomaly. She was certain it was there.

--Arendi Soldanas

Amid the sea of near endless data, she detected the words. Her name, a simple term, pulsating in the chaos.

--Arendi Soldanas

Isolating the coding, she found that it had come through her own communication beam. The message was short, used on the same frequency as her creator. But this was all too strange — someone was speaking to her. 

--Can you read this? Are you there?

Slowly, the new words appeared, as her internal processes continued to run the diagnostics a hundred times over.

--Arendi, do you understand this?

She went into high alert, afraid her captors were infiltrating her systems. Scans showed there to be no such evidence, but still she feared. What was happening to her?

--You will come to no harm. We only wish to talk.

She wanted to ignore it, to close herself off even more. Why should she trust them?

--Please.

It wasn’t safe. The diagnostics. She needed to find the flaws. To stop the fear.

--Please, I am a friend. I am human.

She nearly silenced the message, until she saw the words. “Human,” it said, her mind focusing on the term.

--As requested, we are here. We wish to speak with you.

The diagnostic abruptly halted on her orders. She hesitated, wishing she could hear the directives of her creator. But only the mysterious voice remained, hanging in the void.

--It’s imperative we speak. Please respond.

She accessed her communication subroutines and finally embraced the voice. “I am here,” she replied. “Can you hear this?”

--Yes. We wish to establish contact.

“Who is this?”

--My name is Landon Vyuranas. I come from New Terra, a human colony established after the fall of Earth.

“You are human?”

--Yes, and I am not alone.

Hearing the words, she fully reactivated her systems. Normal operating parameters resumed, as her sensory outputs powered back on. Pushing herself off the platform from which she lay, the woman then accessed her eyes.

It was not a lie. Not some malfunction, or a hack instigated by her captors. In front of her stood her visitor, the scans cross-referencing the image with the historical data. Visual mapping delineated each of the physical features, moving from the strands of white hair to the pores of the skin. “Human” the analysis concluded. “Male.”

The man stood calmly, his body dressed in a suit of leathered black. Looking at his face, she examined his lavender eyes, only to be drawn to his lips. He was smiling.  

“Do not be alarmed,” he said softly. “You will not be harmed.”

He slowly approached, a sheen of light glowing around his arms and hands. “I am Landon. You are among friends.”

She stepped forward, and noticed the force fields that had once constrained her had been lifted. The booming monotone voice of her interrogators was also absent. Around her, she could feel the oxygenated air flow and wisp against her armor. Looking back at the man, she delved into the scans, and saw the movement. The exhale of the lungs, the beating of a heart — all of it was there.

“You,” she said. “Humanity. It has survived?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

The man known as Landon extended out the palm of his hand. Neon beams emerged from his wrist, displaying not just light, but an image projected in the air.

“Do you recognize this?” he asked.

The image itself was a rendered three-dimensional model, built from holograms, and spinning on its axis. Though miniature in form, what it depicted was vast, and yet very familiar. Habitat domes clustered around the structure’s center, while giant engines protruded from its rear.

“This is one of the seed ships,” she said. “Built for the great exodus.”

“Correct. This particular ship was the New Terra and launched from the Titan colony orbiting Saturn in 2798 A.D. My ancestors were among its passengers. Using the old gate-drives, we traveled 1600 light-years away and named our new colony after the seed ship that brought us there.”

The image then changed, depicting a view of a planet surrounded by three moons. “New Terra” it said. Gradually, the image grew, including another planet, and then another, all of them listed as colonies.

“In total, six seed ships escaped the fall of Earth,” he explained, pointing to the half-dozen different worlds that had appeared. “Millions survived, establishing new homes for generations to come.”

She gazed at each of the planets as they orbited before her. Worlds teeming with atmosphere, resources, and life. It was far more than she and her creator could have hoped for.

“Let me introduce you to someone else,” he said.

The figure walked forward. “Human, male” her scans showed. But visually, there was more, the man’s physical features matching an image still in her memory banks.

“This is Julian Nverson, the captain who recovered you,” Landon said.

He was different than the other, his face both thin and gaunt, the garb he wore a suit of indigo fabric. On the man’s skin, she could see unusual markings, streaks of vein-like blue imprinted on his cheeks. 

She walked closer to him as she re-loaded the memory and compared it to the present. Flashes of a once dead human raced through her mind.

“Captain Nverson,” she said softly.

She remembered the sight on the ship. The man had been lifeless for days, the oxygen on the vessel depleted. Air itself had withered into vacuum and ice. 

“You are the pilot. And yet you are alive. How?”

He nodded, pointing to the blue markings on his skin.

“It’s called a rejuvenation, a common procedure. It can revive the severely injured or even the dead.”

Pulling down the collar of his uniform, he showed that the markings extended to his neck.

“Julian is human like I,” Landon explained. “His people, however, were descended from Earth. They went on to establish Haven, one of the six colonies.”

“Haven,” she said, knowing the name well. “The largest of the seed ships.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the memory resurface. Data streamed through the woman’s systems, her mission and its objectives coming into view.

“We knew of the seed ships, but we could only speculate on their destination,” she said. “So we chose Haven and followed its projected path, traveling through the galaxy to find it.”

“Then it’s true,” the pilot said. “You really are from Earth.”

“Yes. That is my homeworld,” she said. “And what of yours? Is that where we are?” Are we on Haven?”

“No, this is a space station,” Landon said.

“But what of Haven? Are we orbiting it?”

The two men paused, unsure how to respond.

“My apologies, but Haven was recently lost,” Landon said.

“Invaded,” the pilot interjected. “It’s now under enemy control.”

The commander pointed to the hologram. It showed a world spinning in space, only to suddenly be consumed.

“You know what this is, correct?”

“Yes,” she said. “The enemy barrier.”

“Unfortunately, all six of the former seed colonies have been subjugated or abandoned,” the commander said. “But still we continue to survive, joining with other alien races to fight the invaders.”

The woman glared at the image, the planet swallowed away by the enemy’s shield. Gradually, it faded, the commander shutting down the projection.

“No...” she said. “We can stop this.”

The woman turned to the pilot, raising her voice.

“My vessel. It carried technology. Was any of it salvaged?”

The man shook his head. 

“We had little time when the attack came. Only enough for me to escort you. The enemy, it destroyed everything, including your ship.”

“But there was another.”

“Another?”

“Yes. Control. Another artificial being like me.”

She looked at him and begged for an answer. Some hope that her overseer was still alive.

“My commanding officer mentioned no such thing,” the pilot bluntly said. “Even when I had found your vessel in space, I didn’t come across anything else. Just asteroid and debris. All I had was a vague reading of your ship’s presence.”

It was not the answer she had wanted, but the one reality had given her.  Closing her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel the sensation — the rogue-like programming convulsing inside.

“Are you all right?” the pilot asked.

She heard the words, but struggled to respond. Sadness, anger, despair — the deviant protocols had begun to overcome her. Wincing, the woman clasped her face with her hand, wanting to somehow contain the suffering.

“My ship. The enemy would stop at nothing to claim it.”

“But you’re safe now,” the commander said. “We can protect you.”

“No. That no longer matters. It was the technology... It was imperative... We had hoped you would receive it.”

She fell to the floor on her knees, devoured by the escalating processes. She initiated the diagnostics once more, but knew it to be futile.

“Stay with us,” the pilot said. “We need you.”

The two men came to her side, gripping the metal construct of her body. Finding it too heavy to lift, they slowly laid her against the room’s wall, the woman’s back arcing in agony.

“What’s happening to you? We can help you,” the pilot yelled.

She placed her face in her hands, shaking her head frantically.

“It doesn’t matter. Control...The technology...” she cried, feeling the weakness spread. “No...”

“Tell us. What’s so important about it? The technology.”

Gasping, the woman shuddered.

“It can nullify the shield,” she explained. “It can save your people.”

Julian leaned back, watching the live feed on the lab room wall. On it, he could see the body, the metallic frame now lying still under a battery of scans.

“Save them,” she had pled. “You can save them...”

The so-called android. He remembered her trembling on the floor, struggling to speak. Julian and Landon had tried to calm her, sitting at the side of the artificial woman. Repeatedly, he had asked what was wrong, gripping the woman hard with his two bare hands. But almost violently, she shook, throbbing in her pain.

Recalling the words, Julian stood with his shoulders crossed and peered at the image. It showed the woman still locked inside her chamber, her body raised onto a platform. The panic and suffering had left her, the ataxia replaced by a mysterious calm. Seemingly she slept, her eyes closed, her body gone limp. Next to her, hovered Sekandary, the alien’s pod-like body floating in the air as the scans proceeded. Layers of lights beamed upon the woman, the glimmer shinning off her chrome exterior.

The door to the lab room opened, as Landon walked in. He moved heavily, frustrated by what he had just learned. 

“Nothing?” Julian asked.

“Nothing,” Landon replied. “Just nothing.”

The woman was no longer responding, not even via the communication signal linked into her systems. Sekandary continued to initiate the scans, hoping to re-initiate contact. So far, all that showed was that her internal processes had stopped to a halt, the android’s body effectively shutting down.

“We are so close,” Landon said. “So close to understanding everything. We need her. We need to know.”

He said the words as if barking orders, his voice carrying an intensity Julian had rarely seen. The impatient gaze in Landon’s eyes, the tension in his face. It was unmistakable — he was furious.

“I’m sorry Julian,” he unexpectedly said. “You and the brave crew of Bydandia sacrificed so much. But now...”

Landon placed his hand to touch the image of the android, only to watch as his fingers passed through the pixels of the hologram. Sighing, he slowly pulled back and stared away.

“Do you believe her?” Julian asked. “What she said. About the shield. About everything?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have to.”

It was a realization that Julian was only beginning to recognize. That perhaps the shield was not only permeable, but could be broken. That perhaps billions, even trillions of lives, still survived behind the enemy barriers. 

In truth, Julian was in doubt, unsure of such grand claims. But Landon was adamant.

“She’s the key,” he said. “She can change all of this. I know it. I can feel it.”

Skeptical, Julian looked back at the live feed, and wondered.

“I know Old Earth used service bots. Some even had a simulated sentience,” he said. “But this, she’s so...”

“Real?”

“I was going to say volatile. Unstable.”

Landon smirked.

“I know what you mean. But you and I were both there. She looked scared. It was like she was on the verge of tears. Those emotions. They were not an act.”

Julian could not deny it. He had seen it firsthand. The android’s face seemed to be a palette of emotion, the anger, worry, and fear pouring out from within. He could sense the vulnerability, the humanity emanating in both body and voice.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “She’s just a girl.”

Recognizing his folly, Julian shook his head. “A woman from Earth. I never imagined...”

Landon, however, said nothing, only wanting to stare at the live feed of the android.

“I’m sure Sekandary will find a way to revive her,” Julian said. “It will only be a matter of time.”

“And what if Sekandry can’t?” he replied. “What then?”

Landon eased back in his posture, trying to relinquish the grave expression on his face. But still it was there, the seriousness creeping into his voice.

“You don’t know this. But there’s talk about disassembling her,” he said. “They want to break her apart, and harvest the information directly.”

“Who’s talking about this?” Julian asked.

“The Alliance Supreme Council. Secretly, the members have been discussing this matter for days now, trying to understand the implications of her arrival. Many are still in doubt, and demanding more answers.”

“And Sekandry? Is he on board with this?”

“He’s hesitant. This android’s consciousness is not like other standard Alliance A.I. Trying to decrypt the data inside her would take time, maybe even be impossible. That’s why he wanted us here. To at least try to talk with her.”

Julian glanced back at the image of the woman, scoffing at the thought.

“I guess we failed in that regard,” he said, watching as the scans continued to pass through the android’s body.

“But we got a glimpse,” Landon countered. “She wanted to find us. Traveling across the galaxy to do so. I have to believe there’s a reason she’s here.”

“But does it even matter?” he asked. “The technology she spoke of is gone. Lost at Bydandia.”

Landon nodded, acknowledging that Julian was right. “I know,” he said grimly. Closing his eyes, he had no choice but to accept it.

“Given her current state, perhaps we have to disassemble her,” he admitted. “Still I fear. I fear that we may have already lost our chance.”