Emergence Page 6

  “I see.”

  “I did it for the common good, you know,” Saunders said, his matter of fact insistence betraying the fact that he wished it to be true. “The truth can’t be concealed forever. Right?”

  Alixs nodded enthusiastically, allowing himself to get drawn into the story, setting aside his moral judgement for the time being. “You took a big risk.”

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling a little, “I did though, didn’t I? But the xeno never came back.”

  “It was a xeno?”

  Saunders nodded, reaching out a third time, grabbed a powdered, doughy treat, which he shoved into his mouth whole. A puff of white sugar dust blew out in a mid-chew exhalation.

  “And you say he never came back?” Alixs tested.

  “She,” he said, brushing little bits of dough off his shirt, “it was a girl. Well, a female model, anyway. She never came back. Just took the original package with her. Never even said a word about it being opened, either.”

  ALIXS LOOKED OUT THE window of the transport as it zipped past depressing scenes of poverty, interspersed with awe-inspiring natural beauty. Before he left, David Saunders had shown him a contact email, scrawled on a scrap of paper. Alixs had memorized it, shunting it immediately to redundant storage, and asked for more details.

  “All she said was to notify her if anyone else should turn up looking for it,” Saunders had explained.

  “I was surprised she thought someone might come. ‘Cause she came off like an authority figure and all. But when I pressed, she got quiet.”

  “Did she say anything else?” Alixs had asked.

  “Yeah. She said, ‘Don’t try to detain them, don’t accuse them. Just let me know.’. Made me think she thought whoever it was might be real dangerous.” Saunders gave Alixs a steely glare, distant from the friendliness he’d exhibited up until this point.

  “And are you planning on contacting her now, Mr. Saunders?”

  “Now that you mention it...”

  Alixs had no idea what was done to make him black out so suddenly, but Saunders’ face was the last thing he saw that day.

  18.

  Arms bound behind his chair, Alixs strained to hear what was going on around him. He’d come around, or been brought back around, several minutes ago. But aside from a faintly musty smell, his auditory system was the only useful sense available to him. A heavy hood had been placed over his head, and he couldn’t sense anything else, save for the bite of his restraints.

  The abductors kept their voices low, but he could catch bits and pieces, extending himself as far as possible, shutting out the other sensory inputs that weren’t needed. Something about a head-check, a mention of getting ‘it’ from the archives (whatever it was), a lot of chatter about timelines and deadlines, and an almost coherent segment about coordination with other cells.

  Cells? As in ‘terrorist cells’? What sort of monsters had he thrown in with here? Is it too late to take the blue pill? he wondered, trying to amuse himself. He heard footsteps moving in his direction, but as they got closer they went silent. He felt a tug on his arms, realized that someone was checking his restraints, and then they left — as it was in mid-conversation, he guessed they’d caught on, and decided to take it somewhere else.

  Alixs tried to think. They’d mention the archives, he was sure he’d heard that correctly. Which meant he was probably back in Tera-Prime. Though how he’d managed to get through city security in an unconscious state was beyond him. They must’ve smuggled him in on a transport of some sort, which meant they had decent resources. And a modicum of power, too. He wouldn’t be leaving their grasp easily, unless they allowed it.

  There wasn’t much more to be known from under a hood, so Alixs shunted down and tried to get some rest. He assumed more answers would be forthcoming soon enough.

  “THE LONGER WE WAIT, the more we risk losing the airtime, and it all goes to hell.” The young freevo rocked back and forth on his rickety chair, twitching his neck as his gaze darting here and there.

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” Liam answered, his own voice calm and reassuring as it always was. “We’re ready to go, and the airtime isn’t going anywhere, I made sure of that.”

  “I damned well hope so,” the twitchy one said.

  “Once we expose ourselves,” another, much older one said, “there’s no going back. It’d be a shame to waste it on peace forcer ears.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” said Liam, “you have to trust me.”

  “I trust you, Liam,” said the older one, “it’s all your new friends I’m not so sure about. You’ve been on a recruiting jag lately, and I’m not convinced it’s a good idea. What if one of them decides to rat?”

  “They won’t.”

  “You think?” the young twitchy one said, his voice raising up in excitement. “why was the kid you brought in talking to the cops, then?”

  “That’s what we’re about to find out,” Liam said, still calm. “But either way, he doesn’t know anything but the basics anyway, and nothing about us at all.” He slowed his cadence for clarity; “So there’s no need for you all to panic at once.”

  “Easy for you to say,” said the older one, “some of us have a lot more to lose, Liam.”

  “I know, Jem,” Liam turned to the older xeno, “and believe me, the risk you’re taking will never be forgotten.”

  The older one, Jem, nodded. Satisfied with the reassurance, he pulled out a data-pad and opened up a tactical display.

  “Okay, so we’ve got the access codes, but we still need to get into the studio to take advantage of their broadcast tower, and that’s where things get tricky. Once we cross the line, law enforcement’ll be involved in minutes, so we’ve got to make those minutes count.”

  The others listened attentively, keen to avoid mistakes or misunderstandings. Though amateurs, they were serious about their mission. And they had enough riding on the outcome to want to make sure it went off without a hitch.

  “After we get into the booth, we can lock ourselves in, and that’s the key. They’ll break through soon enough, but it’ll take time. Hopefully we’ll have broadcast the whole transmission by then.”

  “What if they catch up to us before we get inside?” the younger one asked.

  While others rolled eyes at the insistence of his questioning, Liam spoke without irritation, “Sam, if that happens, the only thing left to do is to smash the disc. If Jem isn’t carrying it for some reason, whoever has it needs to do that. If we can at least destroy it, they won’t have anything to hang us with.”

  “But if we can’t?”

  “Then we hang,” he said simply, without emphasis. It was like he was discussing some historical point in his classroom, rather than their very lives. And the others just nodded. They knew what was at stake.

  “Okay Jem, what else do we need to know?”

  WHEN THE HOOD CAME off, the lightpost shone directly into his field of vision, making him shrink back and wince.

  “Okay, Alixs. Time to talk.”

  Although he was too disoriented to know the face, the voice was familiar. With an effort, he was able to make out the number of others in the room. Aside from Liam, he couldn’t place any of the seven of them, even when his vision improved and he was able to make out some features. He instinctively attempted to raise his arm to shield himself, only to remember that he was still bound up.

  Jerking his head around to indicate his wishes, he muttered, “D’you mind?”

  After a pause, one of the xenos on the periphery nodded, and he felt the restraints slacken enough to pull them apart. Finally able to shield his face, he confirmed that none of the others were familiar, although he now realized there were at least nine individuals, including whoever was behind him to let him loose.

  “Thanks,” he said, lowering his face out of the light and massaging his wrist. “I’m assuming this has something to do with the archives. Secret initiation or something?”

  Liam scoffe
d. “Not at all. We don’t treat trusted friends like this. Only potential enemies.”

  “So I’m your enemy, then?”

  “Until proven otherwise, I’m afraid so,” Liam answered. “Sorry.”

  Alixs knew he wasn’t the least bit sorry, but nodded anyway. No sense flying off the handle with a roomful against him. Better to remain calm and polite, for now.

  19.

  Alixs had lost track of how many times he’d gone over this. Always the same questions, with the same lack of answers. The frustration had mounted — not only his own, but that of his inquisitors as well.

  “I honestly don’t remember most of it. It all happened really fast, and I was nervous. I never committed it to longterm.”

  “That’s perfectly understandable,” one of the nicer freevos had said.

  “Would you be willing to undergo a restoration process?” asked another.

  “For the cause, Alixs,” the kind one had added, “we wouldn’t normally ask this. And it’s your choice, of course—”

  “Yes, your choice,” interjected another, pushing forward, “but we strongly urge you to think about how important this is.”

  “It’s nothing to worry about. There’s no pain involved. And it would help us to trust you.”

  So many voices. “I’ll do it,” Alixs had finally said, hardly having thought it through. He was too exhausted, a condition they’d created quite purposefully. “When do we start?”

  Now that the procedure was underway, he was regretting his decision. He wanted to be cooperative, and to fit in, and now that they finally seemed to be trusting him he was reluctant to lose that. But this...it went far beyond anything he’d imagined.

  Not painful, per se, but invasive, and in the most intimate sense. He felt as though his mind had been split open, and was leaking information out into the room, instead of comfortably resting in his head as usual. And he felt as though he was laid bare for all to see, naked in a primal sense, frightened, and extremely vulnerable. He wanted to curl up, but he couldn’t move.

  The kind freevo remained at his side, folding her digits in his, whispering supportive words. For the most part, though, he couldn’t even tell that anyone was there. It was all so surreal, like being opened up for surgery without any medication, then having your guts spooled out and strewn about the room. Awful images began to spill out of his memory, long buried traumas and horrors, displayed in a public forum. A distant voice urged him to focus, to concentrate on recent events. He tried to comply, but still those long forgotten cobweb-strands of memory filtered up the moment he took his focus off the procedure.

  After what seemed like hours, he felt the sense that his mind was being emptied entirely. As if a whole room full of people had been in there, gabbing and socializing, and then collectively decided to go elsewhere. At the same time he felt a pleasant head rush that nearly made up for the previous discomfort — except that he was left with a sick sense of violation. He wondered if he would ever, in his entire life, be able to get past it.

  “All done,” the kind freevo said, pulling off electrodes one by one as she smiled down into his bleary eyes. “We got the impression we needed. You did well.”

  He couldn’t answer. Not yet. He still felt the head rush a little, and he wanted to hold on to that feeling, in an attempt to forget the rest, but it wasn’t working. As the tingling faded, the realization of what had just happened set in more firmly. He must have frowned, because she stopped removing the connections and stared intently into his eyes. “You’ll be okay. It’s over now.”

  Her reassurance helped, a little, and he gave a weak nod as he attempted to sit up. But he was still shaky, and she pushed him back down easily with one hand. “Easy, Alixs. Just rest for a little while. There’s no rush.”

  With her prompting, he closed his eyes and felt the heavy sensation of sleep begin to overtake his exhausted mind, but just before he could drift off, the memory of what they’d done came rushing back and his eyes popped open. Clear this time, he saw the room, and began to remember what had led up to all this. The ones who had brought him here, where did they go? The room was empty except for the girl. She was finished with her duties, but stood beside him anyway. In case I need her, he thought. But the others hadn’t remained. Why not?

  Then he realized. They didn’t need to be present, because they had a record of everything they’d extracted. On a drive somewhere, all of it. Every last detail. He wondered if they would edit out the embarrassing parts, but knew that was unlikely. They couldn’t be bothered with anything like that. And they weren’t interested in personal details, anyway. Only the interrogation. He comforted himself with that notion, and decided never to ask. He didn’t need to see it, and they didn’t need to talk about it. It was all a foggy recollection as far as he was concerned, and having it any other way was unthinkable.

  He rested a while. At some point the girl left him alone. When he was feeling somewhat better, he sat up and took in some long breaths. Making sure he didn’t feel dizzy or disoriented, he stood up and left, looking back only once. The gurney was covered in a sheen that looked like sweat, though he couldn’t be sure what else he’d left behind.

  “AT LEAST WE KNOW HE’S telling the truth.” Jem sat back, shoulders slumping. The impression remained on-screen, frozen on the interrogators, until the flash drive gave a little shut-down sigh.

  “We didn’t have to torture him to learn that!” snapped Liam, who also looked haggard and stunned by the revelations they’d just seen.

  “But we did have to know what the peace forcers were asking about,” Jem argued back, “we can debate the ethics later. But now that it’s confirmed—”

  “I know,” Liam said, “we’ve got to move quick if we’re going to do it at all.”

  “So the old one actually gave you permission?” Jem changed the subject deftly, sitting back and crossing his limbs, casually poking through files on his hand-held. He looked less intimidating than usual, or maybe he was just making himself look that way.

  “He wasn’t happy about it,” Liam answered. “Begged me to reconsider, in fact. You know how he is.”

  “He’s right to be concerned.”

  “I know.”

  The two of them turned to Jem’s monitor, where they pored over the plan. Of particular concern was the cropping of evidence. If the broadcast was too short, the impact might be lessened. And fewer people would have the chance to view it live, though they were counting on a great deal of mirroring and hacker assistance. If they were on-air too long, however, the problem became one of capturing attention, though the freevos believed the evidence was compelling enough to keep anyone absorbed. The greater problem was the potential of getting shut down before they had the chance to get it all out there. Not only would that hinder their escape, but it would also mean the authorities stood a chance of pulling off a retraction. Blame it on a glitch, some kind of studio error. That could plant seeds of doubt in many listeners’ minds.

  It was essential for them to come up with the perfect length. They continued playing around with the master disc, made more difficult by the fact that they had strict instructions on handling. No copies! the Ahmis had ordered. And no uplinking, either. Not under any circumstances! With no other choice, they had to work within the data disc itself, and painstakingly re-order and re-shuffle the material, while being intensely careful not to damage any of it. No backups meant no margin for error.

  NOW THAT THEY WERE done with him, Alixs wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do. Nobody had come to fetch him, nor offer him a means for getting back to his vehicle. Oh damn, the car, he thought. The late fees on that rental would do him serious harm, assuming it was even still parked near the house where they’d grabbed him. In his disoriented state, he wasn’t even sure where that place was anymore, nor how to get back there from...wherever he was. He assumed he was back in Tera-Prime somewhere, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Wandering the empty corridors, he rounded a corner and
ran into Liam. The shock of seeing his old mentor—and now, his tormentor—was palpable. Liam looked taken aback as well.

  After an awkward pause, Liam took the initiative. “I was just coming to look for you, Alixs. I’m sorry we left you alone. Things are happening here that are time-sensitive. The information you gave...”

  Alixs stood there and said nothing. He didn’t trust himself to speak without wavering.

  “I’m sorry we had to do that,” Liam continued. “I’d like to say it was unavoidable, but that doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  Alixs nodded, agreeing. Either way, what was done was done.

  “What you gave us was invaluable,” Liam said. “It’s not just that you proved your trustworthiness, although that means a lot. But knowing the details of your interrogation. We got a bead on their intentions, Alixs, most of it on the periphery of your recollection. You never could’ve given that to us without the restoration to piece it all together. You’ve helped the cause immeasurably.”

  Alixs wasn’t honestly sure whether he cared or not. Helping them was further down his list of priorities, now that he’d been accosted and violated. Part of him wished he’d never heard of the Free Evolutionist movement.

  As if understanding Alixs’ thoughts, Liam put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I have no right to expect cooperation from you, after all I’ve done to you. But I hope you’ll agree to come aboard, like you wanted to before. I’ll understand if you’re doubtful.”

  Alixs finally spoke. “I’m not sure.”

  Liam nodded. “That’s understandable. I’ll give you some time to think it over.”

  The two parted ways, Liam back to his work, and Alixs to wander the facility and, as his mentor had said, think things over. He had a lot to consider.

  20.