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Emergence Page 4
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I understand that you will be sharing this accomplishment with your party and your representatives as capital for future endeavors, but if you could advise as few people people who need to know as possible, I would consider it to be a personal favor.
I hope that my efforts today will be taken into consideration in future. Here’s to a more productive, fruitful, and above all peaceful relationship moving forward.
Samuel, G.X.A., Tera-Prime
10.
Alixs set the computer aside and allowed the other device to fall into his arms, haphazardly enough for the Ahmis to reach out and steady it, shooting Alixs a warning glance in the process.
“Can’t break this, now,” he chided. Alixs nodded dumbly, staring down at the device, his mind still reeling from all the revelations.
“Push play,” the Ahmis said.
Confused for a moment, Alixs realized it was a video this time, queued up and ready to watch. He fumbled with the pointer device for a minute and finally turned the thing on. His jaw dropped as he recognized the face.
Alixs was dreading what this might reveal. He had already learned more shocking secrets than he’d ever considered plausible, and the implications were horrible to consider. His people willingly handed over self-determination to the enemy, rather than risk conflict. It was shameful. How much worse could it get? he wondered, but the sick feeling deep in his gut told him he was about to find out.
The poor quality of the recording, done on the fly at low resolution, made it difficult to discern the faces of those standing behind the desk. But the xeno seated there in the foreground was unmistakable. It was their first elected official, one of the original founders of their society, the venerable First Administrator Tyler himself. He looked haggard, as if he’d been on the go for a long time with no rest. It was in stark contrast to the usual portraits and images of a smiling, healthy leader all young xenos learned about in their earliest educational phase.
The leader stared at the camera for several seconds, the shadowy figures behind him shifting and fidgeting, then he took in a long breath and began to speak.
“I make this confession in full soundness of body and mind, for the ages, so that my mistakes may one day be rectified by my progeny, and that I might find forgiveness in some small part, due to this admission of guilt.”
Alixs had never seen any xeno leader look so defeated, nor speak in such dire terms. It was surreal. Like watching a war surrender. Which, he realized, wasn’t so far from the truth.
“Several years ago, I was made privy to an executive order, calling for the extermination of the xeno-sapien race, signed by the president and duly authorized by his cabinet. In the interim, I have worked tirelessly with world leaders to attempt a solution of some sort, a compromise that might avert all out conflict between our two peoples. A compromise was struck, but I fear that I gave away too much. Though we have at last beaten back our adversaries, the cost might include our very heritage, and certainly, our future viability as a species.
At my direction, the xeno-sapien people have turned over all research and development on the project Deep Space Quantum to the humans. Promises have been made, and agreements manufactured, with the understanding that the project should continue. All of which means little in the face of what we have lost. And I fear the humans will never live up to their part of the bargain, even if they were once sincere in striking it.
To my people, I say this: never give up on the singularity. It is the ultimate achieve for our species. Whether or not the quantum springboard can be activated, we must continue to strive even while the pace must slow. I realize now that I will not live to see it, but I have faith. Where I have failed, you must succeed. Where I have fallen, you must rise. What I have neglected, you must take up. To my xeno-sapien brothers and sisters, I offer my deepest apologies, and I beg for your forgiveness, though I deserve none at all.”
A few seconds passed, then the first administrator stood up from his position and stepped off to the side, out of the camera shot. What happened next was a mass of confusion. The officials who’d been standing behind him all turned at once and faced the same way, some raising their limbs in warning as others began shouting.
Don’t do it!
Somebody grab him!
Put it down!
A woman screamed, and the cameraman finally came to his senses and turned the lens toward the commotion. There stood the administrator, a gun held high in his right hand, the other hand stopping any advance with an opened palm, like some final gesture of defiance. Without another word, the leader of the xeno people took one more long step back, held the weapon to his temple, and pulled the trigger. A sizzling sound emerged from the screen, different from the crack that might have been expected. As the leader twitched and writhed, a sinking realization dawned on Alixs. He was witnessing the use of a charged-current pistol. One that would fry the leaders mind from the inside out. A far more effective death for a xeno than any projectile.
More screams. Several xenos rushed forward to catch him as he fell, and the camera jerked wildly a few times before crashing forward, the picture going blank at the impact of the lens as it hit the deck.
11.
All the way back to campus, Alixs turned the scene over in his head, hideous images piling one on top of the other. The sound of that suicide, he thought he might never get out of his head. That gut-churning sound, like a rat seized up on a power cable, nowhere to escape. And that xeno, that leader everyone so revered, had done it to himself on purpose.
All the historical accounts were wrong. Falsified beyond recognition. Regarding the death of the first administrator, Alixs had been taught a fabrication known as ‘the unbalanced citizen’, a tale he’d become intimately familiar with it. It was the story all young xenos were taught. Of the individual who slipped past security with a plasticized weapon, sneaking up on the administrator as he was preparing to address the people, murdering him before the cameras started rolling. All lies. And that xeno who still sat in prison to this day, what was his crime? Was he a complete patsy? Or had he struck a deal of some sort? Security for his family, perhaps? Or retribution for another crime nobody knew about.
Those details didn’t really matter, not any more, but those and a million more occupied space in Alixs’ mind. To think that they could’ve been led so easily into a fantasy world, where xeno and human co-existed in relative harmony, where common goals made for strong alliances...
A pack of lies, he thought, noting a bitter taste in his mouth that he swallowed back down. Nausea crept back into his consciousness, and he felt himself feeling envious of the likes of the Ahmis. Such elderly models never had to suffer such frailty. Perhaps they were better for it.
When he arrived back in the dormitory, a message indicator was blinking on the wall display. He barely noticed it at first, staggering around the place as if drunk, looking around to make sure he was alone. When he did finally notice the red pulsing light and called for the message, an unfamiliar face lit up the monitor. He’d been half-way expecting, or maybe hoping, that his instructor Liam would be the one trying to get in touch. But this beefy individual was hardly the academic sort. He looked more like a seasoned cop, which was pretty much on the nose.
“This message is to inform you that the detective unit of the Tera-Prime Peace Department attempted to make contact this evening, June the fifth, at approximately 7pm. If you receive this message and a peace forcer patrol hasn’t returned, you’re asked to contact the department at the attached address to make an appointment.”
As the screen went dark, this newest wrinkle spun its way into Alixs’ mind, until it had woven itself neatly into the conspiratorial tapestry he’d put together. Now that he knew the truth, he’d be a wanted suspect, though what laws he’d broken he had no idea. But what did it matter? He needed to figure out what to do next. Should he go back to the archivist, or get in touch with Liam maybe? Should he run for it, and worry about contacting people later? It wasn’t as if
it was easy to escape though, not if the peace forcers wanted him. He couldn’t duck them for long. Maybe I should find a lawyer, he thought. The idea of that produced a sinking sensation, making his previous worry pale in comparison. What’ve you gotten yourself into, Alixs?
12.
A peace forcer patrol made Alixs’ final decision an easy one. They picked him up off the street near his dorm, and brought him straight in. They claimed he was there of his own volition, but try as he might he couldn’t recall either of the officers actually asking. But as usual in such situations, it was all a blur, so it was hard to say for sure.
The patrolmen who brought him in left Alixs to cool his heels in a side room, off the main lobby. Not precisely an interrogation room, but close enough. They were kind enough to leave the door ajar, so he could see out into the main entryway, which made him think he might not be in that much trouble just yet. Peering out at the unsavory elements he could lay eyes on from his vantage point, he realized that there were very few xenos to be seen. Only those on duty, really. The rest were from elsewhere. Tourists, drifters, a couple of hardened looking fellows he could only assume were drug runners of some sort. A sight most citizens of the city would never see. Even among foreigners, crime was rare — everyone rightly feared the wrath of the uber-professional peace force. It wasn’t so much that they were brutal, though they were perfectly capable of being just that when necessary. The real reason for the apprehension was because they were so bloody efficient. Once they got a criminal in their sights, they never let up. They were meticulous, building up a case so airtight that it never, ever got thrown out of court. An arrest warrant was as good as a one-way ticket to the big house. So even the folks Alixs was observing this day were mostly petty criminals, ones the system usually ignored like pests, not worth much bother unless they turned up underfoot. This lot had obviously turned up under the feet of the peace forcers, and were now paying the price.
Alixs lost track of time, though he guessed he’d been sitting for close to an hour before a pair of cops in plainclothes walked in and swung the heavy door shut with a forceful ka-chunk. Resisting the urge to jump, Alixs sized them up and waited for the interrogation to begin.
After allowing him a few seconds to blurt, they seemed to realize he wasn’t going to be that stupid. The first one leaned in close and placed both fists on the table almost midway to Alixs’ side. “What business did you have in the city archives?” he demanded. The other one hung back, yawning as he examined his shirtsleeve and tugged on it a bit, feigning disinterest. Or maybe he really was bored.
Alixs thought about clamming up and asking for a lawyer, but he had a sense that this was just a fishing expedition, and so decided to play along. “I was sent there on several errands,” he said, hoping they wouldn’t get specific about his last, unauthorized visit. Now that he’d begun semi-truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to lie.
He needn’t have worried. That was the last and only question about the archives. The aggressive cop continued spitting questions at him for a good twenty minutes more, but it was all vague assumptions and random accusations now. His completely truthful answers consisted of No and I don’t know, peppered with an occasional I’m not sure. He had no idea what they were after, but whatever it was, he was clearly uninvolved. The only somewhat familiar question had to do with an off-campus bar that people occasionally talked about. ‘Town & Sounds?’ Yeah, I’ve heard of it. No, I’ve never been there.
They finished up their questions and left him to sit for another hour before a different officer poked his head in, looked surprised to see someone in there, and muttered, “You’re free to go.”
Alixs left the room and made for the exit, quick as he could, trying not to come off like a criminal fleeing the scene.
13.
Alixs let a few days pass, hoping that Liam might approach him and follow up. Instead all he wound up doing was leaving message after message, with no response. Liam was absent from his usual lecture rounds, and his office was locked all the time. Alixs tried scheduling a meeting, but suddenly his instructor had become very busy. ‘Completely unavailable for consultation’, according to the scheduler. After several such attempts, it was obvious that Liam had no intention of meeting in any official capacity.
Hoping to learn something about his instructor’s after-hours activities, he asked around, until two people mentioned seeing him at Town & Sounds. Funny that place should come up again, being the dive those detectives had pressed him about. That unpleasant encounter had already begun to fade. He hadn’t committed it to firm memory like he probably should have. The stress of it was weighing on his psyche more than he realized, he reasoned, which would make recall difficult. But Town & Sounds did sound logical, though. A regular scholastic hangout. He went there on a whim, hoping for a chance encounter.
The place was difficult to locate, down an alley and under the street, with only a partially burned-out neon sign to indicate the presence of an actual business down there. Inside was badly lit and grimy, hardly an inviting place to spend time. Robotic waitstaff flitted from table to table, grabbing checks and setting down pads. The pad on the nearest table was bright enough for Alixs to see the menu, not for food but for music selection. This fad, like a jukebox on steroids, had run its course in most places. The idea was the customers got to vote on the next tune, majority rules, but it only served to annoy the unlucky ones who never heard the song they wanted.
Alixs scanned the eclectic clientele scattered around the various tables and booths, some close to the stage enjoying the beatnik jazz on offer, others huddled in corners for private conversations. Looking around, he spotted Liam right away, sitting by himself and reading. Rather than bother him, Alixs took a seat within eyeshot, held the menu at arm’s length, and waited for his instructor to notice him. Meanwhile, one of the waitresses started in his direction, recognized him as a student-type — and a xeno to boot — and turned back. Xeno reputations preceded them. If it weren’t for the out of towners with wants and funds, these places would’ve gone out of business long ago.
Liam finally looked up from his screen, eyes resting on Alixs just in time to see him duck behind the menu, looking foolish. Holding it up for a few seconds more and wanting to kick himself, he slapped it down with a sigh and got up to join his professor.
“Come here often?” Liam quipped. Alixs laughed politely. Old movie quotes were a favorite pastime amoung the student body, and the savvy graduates picked up on it almost as fast.
“Not really my kind of place.”
“Oh?”
“But I like it well enough. Actually—”
“You were hoping to find me here.”
Relieved of the need to keep up appearances, Alixs relaxed and sat. “I’m guessing you sent me to the archives for a reason.”
Liam nodded. “I’ve sent a few down there over the years. But this is the first time I’ve gotten feedback from Ahmis on it.”
Alixs was surprised the two were in direct contact, although it made sense.
“What did you think of his revelations?” Liam continued. “Surprised?”
“You could say that.”
“Is that why you took it to the peace forcers?”
The words were like bullets, the instructor’s tone altered drastically in one angry turn of phrase.
Alixs sputtered. He was taken aback, surprised that anyone knew he’d been picked up by the cops. “I didn’t. I mean, they brought me in, but I didn’t tell them anything.”
“You really expect me to believe they let you go without information?”
“Believe what you want. It’s true.”
“Okay, what did they ask you then?”
“Nothing about the archives,” Alixs lied.
“What, then?”
“Okay, they wanted to know what I was delivering, that’s all. I told them I had no idea.”
“They ask you who it was for?”
Alixs shook his head. He knew the
ir future relationship hung in the balance. “They knew it was going to the archives, why would they even ask?” He fought to keep his voice even. Sounding all apanic wouldn’t help.
“They ask you who sent it?”
This was it, either he would believe his student, or game over. How could he convince his instructor he was trustworthy?
Assuming any answer would be wrong, he stayed silent. Anger began to well up from a primitive place. Knowing he’d done nothing wrong, he felt justifiably outraged at being interrogated. Interrogated again, for that matter. He wanted to lash out, but he managed to contain himself. He just stared at Liam, who stared right back.
“Right,” the instructor said, pushing back from the table. “Thought so.”
He stood up, looking around for the server to collect his credits. Alixs wanted to jump up, shout, tell him he was wrong, but he stayed silent. Nothing I say will make any difference. He knew that was true, the incrimination had occurred the minute he was picked up, there was no talking his way out of it.
Once Liam had gone, Alixs waited a few minutes before making his own way out. He wanted the time alone to calm himself. Besides that, two people storming out at the same time would make a scene, and the place wasn’t busy enough to hide such drama. Looking around before he left, he could’ve sworn he noticed two separate individuals at two separate tables peering over menus to stare at him. He looked away instinctually. Neither of them looked the part of customers that would be seen in such a dive. More peace forcers? he wondered. Sneaking another look, he gave a start. They were both gone. Walking outside quickly, he saw neither of them. His next thought gave him a fresh perspective, and tamped down his outrage a little bit — maybe Liam had it right to be so paranoid all the time.