The Fila Epiphany

by J. J. Green

  “Yeah. So I guess you were both checked too?”

  “Of course. The doctor nearly forgot but I reminded him. That would be ironic, wouldn’t it? If we were suffering from the disease we were checking everyone else for.”

  “You say Montfort almost forgot to have himself checked?”

  “Yes. He’s usually very thorough but we were both overworked at the time. Why are you asking me all this? Has the disease broken out after all? You should be talking to the doctor, not me.”

  “Alasdair, this isn’t about the skin disease. It’s about Montfort and it’s important that he never knows about this conversation. I can’t tell you why, but please trust me. Can you do that?”

  The young medic frowned but then shrugged. “Okay.”

  “You said you had to remind Montfort that you should both be checked too. So who checked you?”

  “We checked each other. The settlement doctors were too busy dealing with the patients from the cave disaster. It was a little embarrassing, frankly. But then it was done and we came back to the ship.”

  “Right. When you examined the doctor, did you see anything unusual?” Cariad didn’t want to lead Alasdair by suggesting anything if she could help it. If he remembered seeing something significant without her prompting him, his response would be more reliable. She held her breath.

  “No,” Alasdair said. “The doctor didn’t show any symptoms of a skin disease. At first I thought he might have something—I could see a lesion of some kind on his hip—but he said it was a birthmark.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Can you imagine what it must have felt like to learn that the secret to faster-than-light travel had finally been discovered, but that you were still fated to live out your life in this stinking cesspit? That your fellow scientists and engineers were actually planning to build an entire fucking starship but not let anyone travel on it? Can you imagine just how much that would mess with your mind?” Steen glared at the camera so fiercely Cariad hoped for a return of Mina, the woman who had calmed him down the previous time he’d worked himself into a rage.

  She was in her cabin, spending the quiet shift aboard the Nova Fortuna while she tried to figure out what to do about Montfort. It seemed obvious that he belonged to the Natural Movement. It would explain his evasiveness about allowing Alasdair to see his “birthmark,” and so many other facts she’d discovered.

  What a terrible coincidence it would be if the very person she’d asked to check the colonists for the Natural Movement tattoo was a member himself. One thing she could be sure about: if she was right, Montfort would not have implicated any co-conspirators in the list of suspects he’d given her. They all had to be innocent—including Cherry. Just as soon as she could, Cariad would have to apologize to the woman and let her go.

  Had Montfort hurt Rene to implicate her because he knew the evidence from the bomb attacks implied that one of the saboteurs was a Woken? If so, he’d made a mistake in picking one of Cariad’s close friends, whom she would be least likely to suspect.

  Cariad hadn’t told anyone else about her suspicions. She was concerned that if Montfort had managed to break through security to enter Rene’s cabin, he might also be able to monitor the comm channels. She would have to tell Osias and Aubriot in person. In the meantime, she needed to come up with a way to confirm Montfort’s guilt for sure and to catch any co-conspirators too, if possible. But the answer to her problem had eluded her. Tired and confused, Cariad had decided to watch some more of the holo that explained the origin and purpose of the Guardians.

  “You know what?” Steen continued. “If those damn digital archaeologists hadn’t uncovered the Natural Movement plot, things could have been a lot different. We might have put in all this work for ourselves! How about that? We couldn’t have built a colony ship like the legendary, one-and-only, Nova Fortuna! But we could have made something else—something that would have allowed us to see a little of the galaxy before we died. It wouldn’t have been much but it would have been better than eking out a miserable existence here.”

  Steen moved closer to the camera until his face almost filled the screen. “When I die, no one’s going to remember me. No one writes histories of great scientists anymore. Hell, hardly anyone writes. Everything I’ve discovered, all the work I’ve done, it will all be forgotten.” His face twisted as fury gripped him again. “Do you think anyone else could have uploaded the remnants of human minds into those androids?! Could he have?” He jabbed with a finger to an unseen person. “Or her? Or him? No! It was me.” He thrust his finger at his chest. “It was me who finally figured it out. And for what? To protect some people I never met from some other people I never met? So what? What do I care whether you live or die?”

  “That’s enough,” exclaimed a voice from offscreen. Steen turned and Mina came into view. “Stop it, won’t you? Just stop.”

  “Fine,” Steen spat. “Finish it yourself.” He stalked away, leaving Mina staring after him.

  She faced the camera and gave a half smile, partly apologetic, partly embarrassed. “Steen gets a little hot-headed at times.” She composed herself for a moment, then said, “He’s right. He did upload the androids’ minds. We spent years trying to figure out how to do it. We almost gave up. We were going to use artificial intelligence. But you would have spotted that the androids weren’t human right away. All the lengths we went to in order to give them that realistic, natural appearance would have gone to waste. You wouldn’t ever have allowed them any control in the colony.” Mina frowned.

  “I hope you don’t mind that we did that. We talked about it for such a long time—all the years that we needed to prepare. Everything took so long: first we had to source the materials, then we had to source the machines to manufacture the things we needed to build the ship and all that went into it. You have no idea of the lengths we went to. If you’re a revived scientist, you’ll know what went into the Nova Fortuna Project. Well, we couldn’t just comm someone and ask for whatever we needed. Nowadays, comm systems are practically non-existent. Anyway, we did it in the end. But the effort that went into building the Mistral, the commitment it took, meant we weren’t prepared to take any chances. You see, we sacrificed everything for this. We gave up our own hopes of ever leaving Earth. We had to make sure it was worth it.

  “We decided to make the androids seem human so that you would believe them, listen to them, and obey them, if necessary. No offense, but we thought that the Generational Colonists might be quite naive and simple. Six generations of only as much education as was available on the ship and no real life experience? If none of the cryosuspended scientists were successfully revived, the Generational Colonists might be able to survive, but could they defend themselves against terrorist attacks?

  “We couldn’t take the chance that they might not accept or listen to the androids we were sending to protect them. We had to make them masquerade as humans from a technologically advanced Earth. But please believe me when I tell you they’re there to help. They’ll deal with anything that threatens the survival of the colony and although their minds are human, they are programmed to give their lives for you. We made it so.”

  Steen reappeared. “I have more I want to say.”

  Mina rolled her eyes. “Be my guest. But keep it civil, okay? The people who’ll see this haven’t done anything to deserve your anger.”

  Cariad turned off the holo. She could listen to another of Steen’s rants when she felt up to enduring it. For that moment, she had more important things to think about. She turned out the light and went to sleep.

  ***

  As she left her cabin the next day, Cariad met Kes, who was coming to see her. Guilt immediately swept Cariad. She’d lost count of the number of comms from him that she’d ignored. She realized that she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since meeting him at the xenozoologist lab for the first and only time after he’d been revived.

  He held out his arms to her, and she forgot her guilt and awkwardness.
They hugged. Cariad relaxed into the hug. She felt like she hadn’t been hugged in a long time. When she looked up at her friend, he said, “What’s up, Cariad? I know you’re busy. We all are. But this isn’t like you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Kes. I should have made time to talk to you sooner. But you have to understand, I was revived two years before you. Things are different for me. It’s been a long time since I last saw you and I’ve been through a lot.”

  He released her from his grasp. “So you’re telling me you’ve moved on? That your feelings aren’t the same as they were back on Earth?” Kes was earnest but spoke gently.

  “I guess I am,” Cariad replied, her guilt returning in a flash. “That must seem harsh, I know.”

  “Well, for me it’s only been a few weeks since I last saw you,” said Kes. “I know we were never really serious—who had time for relationships back then? But I thought that once we were out here, starting a new life, we might try to build on what we had. We never really discussed it, but… ”

  Cariad winced. “I think I felt the same way, back then.”

  “But not now?”

  “I don’t feel the same now, no.” Cariad waited for the inevitable question.

  “You met someone, right?”

  There it was.

  When Cariad didn’t reply, Kes raised both his hands, palms outward. “Hey, I’m not going to stand in your way. I’m happy for you. Really.”

  “He died.”

  “Oh… Whoa. Cariad, I’m so sorry.” Kes rubbed his forehead. “And here I’ve been, hounding you… ”

  “You couldn’t have known. Please don’t feel bad.”

  “Come here.” Kes held out his arms and they hugged again. Kes whispered into her ear, “You know I’m here for you, right? Just as a friend.”

  Cariad nodded, trying not to cry, thinking she didn’t deserve him—that she should have explained herself sooner. She sniffed and released her hold on Kes, standing back. “I have a lot to do right now, but when things are calmer, maybe we can meet and I can catch you up on everything that’s been happening.”

  “Vasquez has already told me plenty about what’s been going on. I can hardly believe you guys are still going. But I’ll look forward to hearing your stories too.”

  “Okay. By the way, did you find out any more about the thread creatures in the lake?”

  “We did. We’ve been analyzing the scan you performed and we’ve completed two more of our own. The species is highly intelligent. No doubt about it. We’ve seen them draw down atmosphere from the surface, presumably to use for processes that require gaseous oxygen. And we’ve observed the same control of heat that your scan picked up. We haven’t attempted to capture a specimen—if the fila are intelligent, that isn’t likely to go down well.”

  “The fila?”

  “We named them Fila cherryensia. Fila is Latin for threads and we added cherryensia in honor of the first person they tried to catch.”

  Cariad laughed.

  “Does that sound funny? It’s standard for naming new species, apart from the catching people part. You must know that.”

  “I wasn’t laughing at the name. I’m not sure how the person you named them after will react, that’s all.”

  “She should be honored. Her name will live on forever now.”

  “Hopefully all our names will live on forever.” Cariad was reminded of Steen’s bitter remarks.

  “Is something wrong?” Kes asked.

  “No, I was just thinking of something.”

  “I don’t want to add to your woes,” said Kes, “but another idea occurred to me: the lake is small compared to other bodies of water on the planet. We don’t have any reason to suppose that the habitation we discovered is anything more than an unimportant little collection of fila residences, like a village or hamlet. It’s more than likely that there are vast fila metropolises in oceans and major rivers.”

  “Uh, I thought you said you didn’t want to add to my woes. Actually, that thought had crossed my mind. I really have to go, Kes. I’ll comm you as soon as I can. I promise. And thank you for being so understanding.”

  “It’s no problem. I hope whatever it is that’s so urgent is fixed soon.”

  “Me too,” Cariad replied. She left Kes and hurried to the bay, where the Mistral’s shuttle was awaiting her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Garwin was looking better than he had the last time Cariad had seen him, which felt like a long time ago. Though his hair was grayer than ever, he’d filled out a little and had lost his despairing look. Should she speak to Osias about setting him free? It seemed extremely unlikely that he had anything to do with the Natural Movement.

  He’d been lying on his bunk reading an interface when Cariad went into his cabin. He put the screen down and sat up. “Cariad. It’s good to see you. Sit down.”

  “How are you doing? You seem better.”

  “I do feel better, thanks. Cooped up here, I’ve had plenty of time on my hands to go over everything. You know, it’s odd, but I still miss Twyla a lot, though I’m getting a bit more used to the fact that she’s gone.”

  This remark threw Cariad into a moment of confusion. It was hard to reconcile the idea of Garwin’s deep love for his deceased wife with the fact that the woman was a mass murderer. Then there was also Cariad’s own grief for Ethan, which was still raw, and—she couldn’t help but feel—more justified.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Garwin said. “I accept what Twyla was and I’ll be forever ashamed of what she did, but I miss the image I had of her, if that makes any sense. And the real Twyla… I pity her. All those years she lived with me, she could never be honest or open about what she really thought. She was probably deeply indoctrinated too and hated the life she was forced to live and everything it represented. And then the murders… Maybe she convinced herself that she was doing a favor for all those people she killed. Or maybe not. I’ve had plenty of time to try to understand it but I still don’t and I don’t think I ever will. Yet on some level I still miss her, and we can’t change our feelings, can we?”

  “I guess not,” Cariad replied, though she was no closer to understanding Garwin’s feelings than he was himself. “It sounds like you’ve been going over your years with Twyla a lot. But I didn’t hear from you so I suppose you didn’t remember anything that might help us.”

  “I’m very sorry but I didn’t. The Natural Movement must have been good at covering their tracks. I couldn’t think of anything Twyla did apart from what I told you before. She did sometimes disappear but I never questioned her. It didn’t seem fair considering the fact that I often did the same.”

  “Okay. Can you tell me, did she have any contact with Dr. Montfort?”

  “The Woken doctor?” Garwin frowned, then his face brightened. “Yes, I do remember something to do with him, but she only saw him once as far as I can recall. It was before Arrival Day. She told me the doctor had invited all the kindy teachers to a session on first aid. She went along and came back a few hours later. That was it.”

  “She never saw him again as far as you were aware?”

  “No. But like I said, neither of us pried too deeply into the other’s business.”

  Cariad wondered if the first aid session had been the moment Montfort made contact with his co-conspirators for the first time—the kindy teachers who were the most recent iteration of Natural Movement members, last in a line stretching back to Frederick Aparicio. How had the doctor identified them? What pretext had he used to check for their tattoos? Or had he drugged them? How had he felt when he discovered that the cult’s plan to seed the Nova Fortuna with its filth had succeeded?

  “Is Dr. Montfort a Natural Movement follower?” Garwin asked.

  “I can’t tell you anything about the investigation. I’m sorry.”

  “I never thought that one of them might be a Woken. That kind of changes things, doesn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t bla
me the Gens for everything anymore.”

  “Oh Garwin, can’t you please stop with this stuff? It doesn’t help, you know. You’re as bad as Cherry. As long as you keep hating us, it just makes things worse.”

  “You’ve seen Cherry recently? How’s she doing?”

  “She’s… ” Cariad decided not to tell Garwin about his lover’s current situation. It was hardly a defense against his low opinion of the Woken. “She’s fine.”

  Garwin smiled. “Say hi to her from me if you see her again, won’t you?”

  “I will.”

  ALERT ALERT. All crew to battle stations. All crew to battle stations.

  The announcement had come over the Mistral’s intercom. Cariad and Garwin stared at each other.

  “What’s that about?” Cariad asked. “Have the crew been having drills?”

  “No. This is the first time I’ve heard that announcement. Do you think the ship is about to be attacked?”

  “I’m going to speak to Addleson.” Cariad stood up to leave.

  “Wait,” Garwin said. “What should I do? I can’t just stay here.”

  “You’re going to have to for the moment.” Cariad ran out. She felt bad locking Garwin in his cabin when the ship might be under attack but she didn’t have time to figure out a better option. She ran through the corridors to the bridge.

  Addleson swung around to see her as she went in. The usually relaxed, affable Gen was pale and tense.

  “What’s going on?” Cariad asked. “Tell me this is just a practice run.”

  “It is,” Addleson replied. “Though it’s a much-needed one. Come here and I’ll show you the reason.”

  He was leaning over the console of one of the scanner operators. Cariad joined him and looked at the screen but she couldn’t interpret it. All she could see was a mass of lines, dots, and vectors.

  Addleson pointed to a dot that didn’t look much different from the others. “We’ve been continuing the Guardians’ work of mapping the local starscape. Everything we’ve found has been a natural astronomical body. Not this. It isn’t in orbit around anything. And it isn’t a comet.”