by Scott Baron
Don’t think about that, Daisy chided herself as she walked to get some chow. Get your shit together. There are plenty of people here who aren’t entirely human.
“Yeah,” Sarah muttered. “All of them.”
Stop reading my thoughts.
“Stop making them readable. It’s your choice, you know.”
Yeah, yeah.
She knew it was true, though. She just needed to focus better. Also true was the fact that the other inhabitants of the base, those who had survived attempts to retake Earth and failed, only to wind up stuck on the moon, were enhanced and repaired as well.
Each and every one of them.
Daisy really was the only entirely organic person in the entire base. It could be a lot to handle, and her odd mentor did her best to help her cope, though that wasn’t exactly in her job description.
Fatima was essentially the mother hen of Dark Side Base. She was not just older in pure calendar years, but her unique medical status, which kept her out of cryo, meant decades upon decades of actual up-time. She didn’t look old, per se, not with her custom gene therapies, but while the rest of the team had cycled in and out of cryo for decades while they awaited the next assault to retake Earth, Fatima passed the time the old-fashioned way. One day at a time.
As a result, she had slowly adopted a worldview that was a bit unconventional, but who was to tell her otherwise? At the end of the day, whether it was her decades spent on her own with only a genius AI for company, or her modified neural status, Fatima just saw things differently than others.
Maybe that’s why she took me under her wing, Daisy mused. Another mind-fucked freak show to keep her company.
“That you are,” her secret mental passenger chimed in with a laugh. “And she doesn’t know the half of it.”
Whatever the case, she had taken to training Daisy in a multitude of non-combat skills over the past several months, leaving the martial ways to Tamara and the others.
Aside from Tamara, there was just one other person who could likely give her a run for her money sparring. But whatever terms Daisy had come to with her ex’s not-entirely-organic status, she just couldn’t bring herself to engage in that much physical contact with him.
It was really Vince’s AI-enhanced brain that freaked her out the most. She couldn’t help wondering, was it the man or the machine she had thought she was in love with? Add to that her deep-seated dislike of mechanicals in general, and it was a recipe for heartache, but no matter what she rationalized with her mind, it still hurt a little bit every time he was near.
So, while Daisy and Vince may have finally re-established something of a cautious friendship once more, she still refused to spar with him. It was a big step on its own that they had recently begun revisiting their old habit of watching select gems from Captain Harkaway’s video collection, and even that was still a bit awkward. Unlike in the past, and despite the visceral urges that sometimes flared up––in defiance of Daisy’s logical mind––they no longer curled up against one another as they once had while they watched the videos.
Except for rare incidental contact, they essentially never touched at all, but at least they could watch programs together and enjoy each other’s company, however unconventional the situation may have become.
Nice of Harkaway to have loaded all those old videos, she mused.
Once she knew how old they all really were, Daisy had realized that each and every one of the captain’s cherished movies and television programs, stored away on all those memory chips, was technically a classic. The last remnants of a planet long-dead.
Good thing I didn’t get hooked on a show with a cliffhanger, she thought with a grim chuckle. With the end of the human race, the next season would be a long time coming.
Chapter Four
The mess hall was empty when Daisy entered. In what was a rare occurrence, the sound of Finn’s knives slapping against the cutting board did not fill the air.
It was actually a bit refreshing, cooking for herself in silence, and was something she wished she found time to do more often.
Time wasn’t exactly the issue. More like a lingering sense of discomfort around the base personnel. The same personnel who were almost always filtering in and out of the mess hall. Everyone was great to her, that wasn’t an issue. They treated her well––even better than that––but the lingering gazes as they watched her go about her day could be exhausting.
They were waiting for it; whatever it was. She was special, and somehow, Daisy was supposed to be the key to reclaiming Earth.
It could be more than a little bit exhausting.
She opened a crisper drawer in the nearest refrigeration unit and began digging through the selection of vegetables available to her. A bit of fresh produce could make life on the moon a tad more bearable.
Since landing at Dark Side, Tamara’s botanical pods had been carefully relocated and attached to the base. The Váli wasn’t going to be making any lengthy flights requiring freshly-grown foodstuffs, so those units were networked and tacked onto one of Dark Side’s smaller empty hangars.
Conveniently, Fatima had spent years infusing nutrients into the soil she had manually hauled into the unused hangar. With an essentially limitless water supply on hand from the vast subterranean ice field, she and Tamara had delighted in expanding the gruff woman’s horticultural works into the new setting.
Tamara may have been a soldier, but her gardening skills were second to none, and she genuinely enjoyed her time tending the crops sprouting up in the freshly-seeded soil. Two months after they had arrived, the first crops had taken hold and were growing nicely. By month four, there was more fresh produce than they knew what to do with.
Especially zucchini.
Everyone was growing quite tired of zucchini, actually, and even Finn was running out of new ways to use the prolific vegetable. Fortunately, an entire hangar full of row upon row of growing vegetables meant that nearly every variety of seed that had been carefully stored for the flight was now represented in some quantity, though some more than others.
Tamara enjoyed doing the garden work by hand and would spend hours in quiet contemplation as she tested the soil, culled problem vegetables, and pulled up the occasional weed that had somehow managed to sneak in with the other seeds.
She didn’t kill them, though. Those weeds, in her eyes, were survivors, like her. Kindred spirits, of a sort, although vegetable in nature.
Instead of meeting an untimely demise, Tamara had other plans for the little invaders. A short distance from the farming hangar, off in a separate and sequestered outbuilding, she had set up a small grow room of its own, designated a safe haven for the unwanted intruders in the garden patch.
A weed sanctuary of sorts.
Just when you thought you knew her, Tamara would do something like that and force you to reassess her yet again.
Daisy eyeballed the pile of produce spread out in front of her.
Okay, what have we got in here? she mused.
“You going veggie on me? I think we need something a bit more substantial after all of today’s activity.”
Don’t worry, it won’t be entirely veg. But something on the lighter and healthier side does sound kind of nice.
“All right, but remember, we need to get some serious carbs and protein back in here.”
Don’t worry, Sarah, you know me. A rabbit-food eater, I am most certainly not, Daisy replied with a little chuckle.
She carefully arranged her ingredients around her work space. There were zucchini, of course, which she would quickly roast, then chill, joined by some cauliflower and carrots. After a moment’s thought, she added a couple of pieces of celery, some tomatoes, and a red pepper.
Yeah, that’s a good start.
Julienned, the firmer vegetables would make for a nice vegetable-based pasta, to which she would add a lightly seasoned piece of replicator-produced protein. Turkey would be today’s option, diced and sautéed with some nice, fresh toma
toes and herbs.
A loaf of hearty bread added some much-needed carbs to the mix. Sarah was right. After her time with Tamara, and with the added burn of her ride-along’s help during their sparring session, she could really use them.
There wasn’t enough room to grow a space-intensive crop like wheat on the base, but the organics replicator had no problem producing a steady flow of fresh flours, from which Finn would bake a multitude of bread varieties regularly.
The Váli, safely tucked away in Hangar Three at the moment, could replicate far more complex foods, but its galley wasn’t really designed for baking. Dark Side, though hundreds of years older, had, however, taken creature comforts into consideration, realizing that much like Submariners of old, a well-fed crew was a happy crew. For the men and women stuck living way out on the moon, morale was a very big deal.
San Francisco would be proud, she thought as she took a bite of the tangy sourdough. They actually saved their starter. The thought brought a smile to her face.
“Replicated it, technically,” Sarah corrected.
Yeah, but genetically, it’s the same as the sourdough mother they saved when they fled into space. You can search the world, but the best sourdough was always from San Francisco.
“You’ve never even been there. And I have those same memories, but neither was I. Those were all implanted in your head, just like they did to me,” Sarah reminded her.
I know, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t based on reality. Someone did go to San Francisco in all the panic of the invasion and somehow saved a sample of the starter to the AI network. I mean, in the face of an alien invasion, it’s an almost inconceivable set of priorities, but I don’t think they realized just how serious things were until it was too late. Or maybe they did, I don’t know. Whatever it was, without them, the replicators would never have had that master sample in the Váli’s catalogue.
Daisy took another bite, as she prepared the veggies, savoring the tangy flavor.
I had hoped to someday go back to San Francisco. Now even that’s no longer an option.
“Well, technically, you had never actually been there.”
Yeah, I know, but the memories still feel so real.
“Which, again, was their designers’ intent.”
Yeah. I had almost hoped that one day I’d at least see the city, even if it is devoid of human life.
She sighed as she picked a sharp knife from the rack and deftly twirled it in her hand, then began rapidly chopping, a small mountain of julienned vegetables steadily growing on the cutting board. It was more than one person would eat, but that was the plan.
Vince opened the pressure door and stepped into the mess hall, smiling bright when his eyes met hers. Daisy felt her heart quicken a little, but forced herself to ignore it. No, they were no longer an item, nor could they ever be one again.
He wasn’t real. The AI tied into his brain meant he could never truly be in love with her. He was simply enacting protocols according to a series of lines of code. At least that’s what she told herself. Sarah, on the other hand, had her doubts.
“Hey, you, whatcha got cookin’?” he asked, snatching up a slice of bread from the counter, relishing its crunchy crust.
“Doing up some veggie pasta with protein. Light tomatoes and herbs to round it out.”
“Why do you insist on calling it protein? Just say chicken, or turkey like you used to.”
“But it’s not, Vince. No matter how much we want to believe it’s real, it is just a computer-designed copy. A fake, made to simulate the original in every way.”
Vince knew she wasn’t only talking about food but let it slide.
“So, how’d it go with Tammy today?”
“You know she hates it when you call her that.”
“Precisely why I do it,” he said with his trademark mischievous grin. The one that still made her heart flutter ever-so slightly.
Why couldn’t he be a real man? Daisy quietly lamented.
“You know she’ll kick your ass one of these days,” she chided him.
“Nah, I think I can take her.” He paused. “Well, maybe we’d fight to a draw.” He thought a moment longer. “Okay, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt too badly.”
Daisy chuckled and tossed a carrot at him, which he deftly caught and began munching like a live-action Bugs Bunny. Their friendship was still solid, if somewhat strange, despite whatever uneasiness there may still have been.
It had taken a while, but Vince was simply not willing to let it go. Plus, they saw each other every day, whether she wanted to or not. He had been persistent, and eventually, with good-natured ribbing and a healthy dose of laughter, he wore her down, and the two of them finally began spending more time together once more.
It started with the occasional shared meal, much like the one she was currently preparing. From there, it was easy to slip back into old habits. Chatting about the day’s work over coffee and snacks, wandering the base, appreciating the lunar landscape through one of the remaining observation windows, and occasionally settling in to watch old movies together again. Daisy even found herself nestling into his warmth one exhausted evening as they watched some old animated Japanese program.
She had jumped up with a start when she realized what she was doing, pulling away from the comfortable pillow of Vince’s shoulder that she knew so well. Instinct drew her to him, but her mind made quick work reminding her what he really was. Not entirely mechanical by any stretch, but not entirely human either.
Part of the difficulty was their shared plans, hatched during their honeymoon phase aboard the Váli as they flew toward Earth. The near-disaster that had woken the crew from their cryo sleep early had thrown them together in a crisis situation, and it was that spark of adrenaline that had started the whole affair in the first place.
The sex had been amazing, no doubt, and Daisy felt an ache deep in her gut when she let herself reminisce, but it was the conversations after that had truly bonded them. Talks of trips they would take, places they’d visit. All things they would do together when they were back on Earth.
Only that wouldn’t happen. Earth was barren, and Vince had known it the entire time. Sure, it was part of his neuro feed input that had been set in place years before hers, but that was just because he was an older variant, placed in the grow tanks before Daisy’s completely organic cell line had been perfected.
“I think he really wanted to go there with you, Daze,” Sarah had consoled her. “Even if he knew it wasn’t possible. The neuro-stim fed him info telling him it was home for all those years, just like us.”
The technology that fed their growing minds and kept them not only current on training, but also sane over years and years of inaction, had indeed installed a visceral love of Earth, but it wasn’t real. No matter how much data was pumped into her brain, none of it was real, and that hurt. She had dreamed of going home, made plans, talked for hours with Sarah about sitting on a sunny beach drinking margaritas and watching hot men in swim trunks walk through the waves.
Not real.
It was all implanted, and Vince, unlike Daisy and Sarah, had already received the Earth file update that detailed what the true status of the planet was. The AIs figured it would make them readier to fight for the planet if, deep in their bones, it still felt like home, even though they had never touched its soil.
But he knew what he was, Sarah. What I was. What had happened. And he didn’t tell me.
“Captain said no one was allowed to speak of it until we neared Dark Side. You just got things rolling a bit early when you jumped ship.”
That she had, and Daisy had nearly ruined centuries of planning with her impromptu escape to Earth’s surface.
She put that thought far from her mind, at least as best she could, and focused on the conversation at hand. There was plenty of time to dwell on the past later, and that, she knew she would do whether she wanted to or not. For now, she’d enjoy a nice meal with a cute boy who, sadly, could never agai
n be anything more than a friend.
Chapter Five
Daisy had left the mess hall earlier than expected, having accepted Vince’s offer to clean up after the meal. It was a typical Vince move, being considerate like that. Of course, she had done the cooking, so it made sense, but coming from him, the courtesy just seemed so, well, him.
Reasons aside, Daisy wound up with a few extra minutes before she had to trot off to meet with Fatima for yet another afternoon of mental training and whatever other strange regimen was planned for the day. She had used that unexpected free time to relax and pre-game her overall Zen state.
They always started their sessions together with a centering routine, but with her overactive mind, it was a deceptively easy-seeming task that Daisy found consistently challenging. A little extra preparation would make things begin a little bit easier, and Daisy would take every bit of easy she could get.
One thing was certain, she would never be bored in Fatima’s training sessions. The fact that Daisy found herself forced to adapt to the unexpected and think on her feet more often than not made their sessions almost enjoyable.
“Concentrate, Daisy. You’re daydreaming again,” Fatima said.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Letting your mind wander is a natural reaction—for beginners. But you’re beyond that now, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Daisy agreed, reluctantly.
“Then let’s get back to the lesson. Breathe. Be silent within yourself. Don’t force it. Remember, soft is strong. You already meditate, but I want you to go further. Focus your mind even as you relax it. Now, let’s begin again. Breathe.”
Daisy did as she was told and found herself pleasantly able to slip into the proper mental state after but a few minutes. It had taken a while to begin to understand her new brain wiring after she overloaded it with an untempered neuro-stim info dump, but with every session she was able to get it a little bit more under control.