by G J Ogden
“It’s going down fast, Captain,” said Satomi, “Probably too fast...”
“Can you project where it will land?” asked Taylor, scanning the horizon as they approached lower over what should have been the western United States, though he didn’t recognize it. “I know that technically I’ve never been to this planet before, but if the original Taylor’s memories are true, this should be California, right?”
“That’s right, we’re heading towards what should be the ruins of San Francisco, but there’s no trace of the city at all, or any of its suburbs,” said Satomi, “The escape shuttle has crashed into the sand dunes around what was Golden Gate Park.”
“Sand dunes, what the hell?” said Blake. “Are you sure this is Earth?”
“There’s no question it’s Earth,” said Satomi, “The continents are all exactly where they should be, but comparing the geographical records in the archives to what the planet looks like now... well, it’s quite a transformation.”
“Transformed how?” asked Taylor, as they descended lower. “We should be able to see the bridge by now, but it’s like it’s not there.”
“That’s because it isn’t,” said Satomi. “It’s almost as if the whole area has been sent back in time to before the cities even existed. It’ll take time to get a detailed picture of the entire planet, but from what I’ve seen so far, beyond some evidence of subterranean mining facilities, there are no major built up areas at all. It’s almost entirely unspoilt.”
“Unspoilt?” said Blake, looking and sounding completely flummoxed. “They nuked the damn planet, Satomi!”
“Don’t forget that happened well over three hundred years ago, Blake,” Satomi reminded him. “Background radiation levels are now below what they were even before the war, according to the fleet archives. Whatever they’ve been doing, and for whatever reason, the Hedalt have really cleaned the planet up.”
“That makes no damn sense!” cried Blake, “Why wreck the place only to fix it again?”
Taylor shrugged, “Maybe our friend Vice Provost Adra can tell us. She owes us some answers, and I intend to get them.” He looked at Casey and said, “Set us down near to where the escape shuttle landed.”
“Just not too near,” suggested Satomi.
“Aye aye, Technical Specialist Satomi Rose...” sang Casey, grinning back at Taylor, who just shook his head.
Although the whole bay area including the city, which was highly conspicuous by its absence, had reverted to what Taylor assumed was its natural state, there were still some structures on the surface. Around the bay and where the Golden Gate bridge would have been were a series of walkways and buildings that had been elegantly designed to blend in with the scenery. Casey set the Contingency One down on a small landing pad, which seemed to have been designed more for interplanetary shuttle craft than starships, but as usual her deftness of touch and skill meant that she could park in places most other pilots wouldn’t even dream of attempting. The pad was a couple of hundred meters from where the shuttle had landed in the dunes, but other than this they had no idea where Adra had gone, or even if it had been Adra inside.
“Everyone take a weapon, just in case,” said Taylor, passing them out as the rear cargo ramp lowered. “She’s unlikely to welcome our arrival.”
“I don’t get why she came here, anyway,” said Blake. “This ain’t her world.”
Taylor remembered back to one of his earlier confrontations with Adra, and the strange comment she’d made about Earth. “She believes that it is,” he said. “She told me that once. She said Earth belonged to the Hedaltus race by right. But I never found out why.”
“Well, it sure as hell ain’t her world no more,” Blake countered, “and to be honest, I don’t feel like I know the place either.”
“Let’s just find her,” suggested Satomi, “this won’t be over while she’s still out there.”
They walked out of the ship and into the late afternoon sun, the salt breeze washing over them like a literal breath of fresh air compared to the staler environment of the ship’s cabin. It didn’t matter that they didn’t breathe anymore, or that their sense of taste was as non-existent as a fifty-a-day smoker; the cool air still invigorated their minds.
They continued to move cautiously along the walkways that stretched out above the sand dunes that had replaced what would have been Golden Gate Park, along with a significant part of the modern bay area. Simulants lay scattered around the strange venue, but other than these now defunct automatons, there was not another soul in sight.
“This place is givin’ me the creeps,” said Blake, darting the barrel of his weapon at every shadow that flickered.
“I’ll hold your hand if you like, Blakey?” teased Casey, but Blake wasn’t amused.
Soon they had reached the end of one of the long walkways, which culminated in what seemed to be a viewing platform, gazing out towards Alcatraz island. Just as nothing remained of the city, there was no sign of the ancient prison either. But the viewing platform did allow Taylor to see that the escape shuttle had ditched hard into the sand, leaving a long furrow in its wake. The glass canopy of the shuttle had been ejected, but from what Taylor could see with his enhanced silver simulant eyes, there was no longer anyone inside. He could see a trail of footprints in the sand, leading over one of the taller dunes down towards the water.
“I hate the beach,” grumbled Blake, still complaining, “I hope these simulant bodies are sand-proof.”
“They’ve survived a lot worse than sand,” said Taylor, climbing over the railings and traversing the short drop down onto the dune, before waving the rest of them on.
Casey jumped down next, scowling at how the sand instantly crept inside her purple canvas shoes – her new favorites – followed by Satomi and then an increasingly grumpy Blake Meade. Taylor lead the way, following the footsteps in the sand, noticing that patches of the golden grains had been stained red. Blood... he thought to himself. She’s hurt. He continued climbing, weapon held ready until he was able to peer over the peak of the sand dune. And then he saw her. Standing by the edge of the water as it gently lapped the shore was a Hedalt soldier, black armor shimmering in the warm sun like a scorpion’s exoskeleton. Even from where he was standing, Taylor knew it was Adra. He could also see that she was not armed, at least not with a plasma weapon, and that she was slowly leaking blood into the sand.
Taylor clicked on the safety and put away his weapon, drawing wary glances from the others, and turned to face them. “I don’t think she’s here for a fight,” he said, keeping his voice low, though the breeze carried his words away from the shore. “Safety your weapons, but keep them loaded, just in case I’m wrong.”
“What, we’re just gonna stroll over an’ say ‘hi’?” said Blake, reluctantly holstering his weapon.
“Yes, exactly,” replied Taylor.
“Did I, or the other me you knew, ever tell you that you’re outta your damn mind, Cap?” Blake protested.
“I think probably both,” said Taylor, smiling. “Just follow me, but hang a little way behind. And be ready for a quick draw if it looks like she’s going to kill me.”
“Smooth plan, Cap,” Blake went on, with obvious sarcasm, “I’m right behind ya. Waaay behind ya...”
“Thanks, Blake, I appreciate it,” said Taylor with matching sarcasm, while slapping him heartily on the shoulder. Then he turned, briefly spotting the grinning faces of Satomi and Casey, before starting to make his way down the other side of the dune.
At the bottom, he gestured for the others to hang back and began walking up to Adra, careful to approach in a wide arc so that there was no possibility that the Vice Provost couldn’t see him coming. The water began to lap gently against his boots, but still Adra did not respond to his approach, and as he got closer, he began to question whether this had been a wise choice after all. Blake was right… Taylor thought as he closed to within five meters of Adra, still without provoking a reaction. I must be out of my mind…
<
br /> TWENTY-EIGHT
Vice Provost Adra’s penetrating green eyes glanced over to Taylor, cold and severe, but then she looked out across the water, as if his sudden appearance was not unexpected.
“Have you come to gloat, simulant?” she asked, without taking her eyes away from the waves. “To revel in your triumph at handing this planet back to the parasites that tainted it?”
“I’m not here to gloat,” said Taylor, sincerely. “I only want to know why you’re here. The war is over. This planet doesn’t belong to you anymore.”
“Do you not consider yourself human?” Adra asked, ignoring his statement. Her eyes briefly flicked towards him as blood continued to flow from a deep gash in her stomach. Whatever caused the injury had been brutal enough to have split her armor.
“Part of me is human,” answered Taylor, “the part you put inside this manufactured head. The part that broke free of your controls.”
“But you are not one of them, simulant. I know that, because I made you.” Adra was now looking at him directly. She was strangely calm, which was throwing Taylor off guard; he had expected vehement wrath or at least bitterness, but Adra displayed neither. “And you will never be one of them. For that alone, you should thank me.”
Again, Adra’s words mystified Taylor. Thank her? What on Earth do I have to thank her for? he wondered. But it did prompt perhaps the most obvious question. And it was this question, more than why she was on Earth, that was the most important. Taylor confronted her with it, “What is it about humans that you hate so much?”
Adra laughed, “I doubt you have the capability to understand, simulant.”
“Try me.”
Adra took a step towards Taylor and instantly Blake drew his weapon and aimed it at her. Taylor stretched out his hand and waved him off.
Adra stared back at Blake and Taylor could see a flicker of resentment in her eyes. “You cannot kill me, simulant,” Adra called over to Blake. “I am already dead.”
Blake glanced anxiously at Taylor, who was still motioning for him to lower his weapon. Blake looked back at the Vice Provost and slowly dipped the barrel, but remained ready to raise it again in an instant, should she make a move.
Adra took another two paces towards Taylor so that they were no more than an arm’s length apart. Despite Blake standing ready, and despite Adra’s impairments, Taylor still felt vulnerable.
“The loyalty of your companions is impressive, if unexpected,” said Adra, inching closer still so that they were practically face to face. “You should understand that loyalty is the only currency of worth, simulant. Do not lose it.”
“I don’t intend to,” replied Taylor. Given the close proximity of Adra’s towering figure, he was fighting a strong desire to back away.
“You asked why I hate humans. You asked why I am here,” continued Adra. Her words now had more bite. “I will tell you why, simulant, so that you understand the depth of your crimes. It is the only injury I can inflict on you now. But perhaps it is enough.”
If Taylor had been human, he knew that a shiver would have run down his spine at that moment. He thanked his simulant body for not revealing any emotional tells, but inside his mind he still found Adra’s chilling statement deeply unsettling.
“Many thousands of Earth-centuries ago my race was taken from this planet,” Adra continued, initially maintaining her piercing stare, but then she turned and gazed out towards open water again, seemingly swept up by the view.
“Your species originated on Earth?” Taylor was unsure if he’d heard her correctly, but Adra just continued to talk; she was either ignoring his question or oblivious to it.
“My ancestors were taken from this planet long ago by a race we called the Masters. The Masters had selected Earth as a testing ground for a biological experiment. It is not known exactly when…” Then Adra again glanced at Taylor, but this time the bitterness oozed out like the blood from her wound, “…and were it not for you, I would be here now, uncovering those secrets.” Then her eyes softened slightly and she looked back across the water, as if her temporary lapse of control had never happened. “The Masters began their experiments on ancient ancestors of the verminous homo sapiens, four hundred or more thousand years before this day,” Adra went on, as if she was addressing a lecture theatre of students. “The Masters had long transcended their organic form. In its place they had fabricated a more durable synthetic frame, and augmented their already superior intellect with neural implants.”
Taylor chose not to interrupt again, which was helpful, because at that moment he was lost for words. It seemed clear that Adra was describing his own frame. She was describing simulant technology.
“Yet, despite their technological advantage, over the span of eons they had grown weak. With no mechanism or even urge to procreate, they continually replicated their brains to the point where the genetic degradation of their species dwindled their numbers. In time, they realized they would no longer be able operate the galactic network they had engineered, and so they needed others to do this for them. To that end they used the early hominid life forms on this planet to create a new species, splicing it with DNA from their own original organic form.” Adra watched, almost transfixed as water lapped against her boots, mixing with the blood dripping from her side, before she finally broke free of the trance and continued. “For many tens of thousands more years that species was allowed to evolve on this planet. Further genetic modifications created a number of sub-species, before the Masters finally arrived at the strongest and most worthy race. The perfect race. The one that would best serve their needs. Us.”
Adra’s story was so compelling that Taylor had forgotten how dangerous she was. He was too swept up with wanting to know more to be concerned that Adra might still attack. “But surely there would be records of Hedalt having lived on Earth?” Taylor asked, trying to reconcile her story, while also probing her for more details.
“Our original ancestors would not be easily recognized now,” mused Adra, “The Masters continued to enhance Hedaltus DNA for many centuries after we were taken. But they are here. I intended to come to Earth to study them. To uncover more of our history.” Then she suddenly grew angry again, growling, “But your meddling prevented that.” Her feet shifted in the sand, as if she were about to lunge at him, and Taylor saw Blake raise his weapon in his peripheral vision. But then Adra fell heavily to one knee, teeth clenched, face contorted in immense pain.
As she dropped, Taylor caught sight of a long, black blade impaled into her chest, pressed deep into her black armor. It would have taken a powerful impact to sink the knife so deep into her flesh. The shuttle crash... Taylor realized.
Adra groaned and rose to her feet, cradling her chest. Taylor felt compelled to offer help. He knew the others would think him mad, but he still had his humanity, even if Adra cared nothing for their lives. “Let me get you some help,” said Taylor, reaching out to her, “To treat your wound.”
Adra took a pace back. “No!” she growled, “I do not want your help. I want you to finish hearing what I have to say. I want you to know what your meddling has done!”
Taylor stepped back, accepting that Adra was lost. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what else she had to say, but like the scene of an accident, it was hard to tear his interest away.
“After the Hedaltus race was taken from this world, the Masters simply left the other genetic experiments behind,” Adra began again, “They took the strongest and most worthy race, and left the failures – the genetic mistakes – behind, rather than dispose of them. In time, one of those mistakes became the homo sapiens that went on to blight this planet.” Adra jabbed a blood-stained finger towards Taylor’s simulant skull. “You have the memories of one of these humans. You know of their vile and treacherous lives. You know of their long and bloody history of depravity, greed, selfishness and unjust wars. And through it all this planet was made to suffer and endure their abuse. They were not worthy of Earth. We cured this planet of its
sickness and returned it to its former glory. Earth belongs to the Hedaltus. It is ours by right!”
Taylor glanced back to the others, who were all listening just as intently as Taylor, their simulant ears not missing a single syllable. But it was also now apparent that Adra was dying. She had said what she wanted to say, and had nothing to lose from a desperate last attempt to crush Taylor’s head. But despite the risk, Taylor still wanted to know more.
“If what you say is true, you share a history with humans,” said Taylor, “Hell, you’re related to them! Why not make peace. Surely that would be more worthy?”
“We are nothing like them!” Adra yelled, and Taylor could hear the metallic clank as Blake’s hand grasped his weapon more tightly. But then Adra coughed blood, and she again dropped to one knee, her considerable strength finally waning. “They are insects compared to us. A pestilence. Extermination was the just recourse.”
With each sentence Adra grew more enraged and more impassioned, spitting blood with each word that escaped her lips. But her eyelids were blinking more slowly now, and for a second she almost fell unconscious, but the instinctive threat of falling woke her senses. She dug her fists into the golden sand and looked up at Taylor, blood trickling from her mouth.
“And now you see your crime, simulant,” Adra spat. “You have handed this planet back to the humans, for them to cast it into ruin once more.” She laughed, and a line of blood ran down her chin. “And you consider us the enemy. You consider us monsters!”
Finally, Adra’s strength failed to the point where she could no longer hold herself up. Drawing on her last ounce of vitality, she shuffled back in the sand and rested against the steep incline of the dune, cradling her wounded chest. She no longer looked in pain, but her steel-grey complexion had faded to a milky white. Taylor felt brave enough to move alongside, and then with a reassuring glance back to Blake and the others, he sat down beside her.
“I made the Hunter simulants to ensure no trace of humanity could ever return here,” rasped Adra, her once powerful voice growing feebler by the second. “It pleased me to know that these simulants I created with human brains – beings who believed themselves to be human – would be responsible for humanity’s end.” She locked eyes with Taylor, and though her stare was glassy, it conveyed no less hatred, “Now look at what you’ve done.”