We are here. Troop deployment information and coordinates. Find us. Over and over again it played. A continual loop that would work for generations to come filtering out into the universe. Even if he failed, the others would be found. If they were lucky, someone on a ship would hear it. Good or bad, it would be someone. Hopefully a Cyborg would hear it and understand what it meant. It was a chance.
0103 Watched the intel programme attached to the orbiting balloon for a while and the cameras sending info back to him. It was impossible to send anything any further. He’d stretched the capacity of the beacon satellite far beyond what it was originally created for. That was as good as it got.
***
She’d not been sleeping well. Vague images invaded her dreams. What looked like hazy stasis beds, farm animals, vicious beasts were all mixed up in a beautiful landscape and what she thought was a ship she didn’t know. She couldn’t explain it. The dreams felt real, like a real location but she couldn’t be sure.
The dreams came in snippets. Some bits clear, some not. If was frustrating and interesting at the same time. She felt sure she was seeing something, but she couldn’t define it.
Then she’d started to hear a voice. Strong and clear in those dreams. More than once, she’d tried talking back but nothing seemed to work. She’d wake frustrated, like it was just out of her reach and she was missing something.
Distracted during her days, Brok had teased her continually. She was off her game and it showed. He worked her ass off in self-defence classes, but her distraction left her open. Working with him was her only relief from the constant irritation of the dreams. When the call to action finally came the next time, she was more than ready for it.
So engrossed in trying to smack Brok one for his latest dig, she’d lost all sense of time. They’d been at it for weeks. Him trying to teach her, her trying to attack and defend. He’d been on at her since day one and had no intension of letting it go. ‘She had to be able to defend herself, he might not always be there’ had been drummed into her. She didn’t want to think about that. If something or someone had taken Brok out, she guessed she’d be dead too. There was no way, anyone was getting passed him without some serious damage happening. With little choice and rather reluctantly at first, she’d taken the classes seriously too. Going at it each day for a couple of hours as part of their training routine.
Surprisingly by week five, she started to enjoy it. Aches and pains started to slip away as her body got used to the activity and punishment.
“Harder,” he taunted over and over again at her. “That’s not going to hurt a fly.”
Donna had gritted her teeth and would go again, only to find herself face up staring at him grinning down at her.
“Stop leaving yourself open to attack. Think, plan, execute. Again.” He continued to drum into her. Before pulling her up to start again.
And slowly she got stronger and better. And Brok approved.
“Better. Again,” and they would both get lost in the dance.
She wasn’t stupid. Brok wasn’t hitting her with Cyborg strength. He’d told her continually, she couldn’t win that fight unless she had an advantage and then run like hell. But it was unlikely she’d be able to out run a Cyborg so she had to be sneaky. Do the unexpected. Don’t be logical. Have a gun. A big one and use it if she had too. She’d looked at him crazy. “You’re not my enemy Brok,” she’d told him breathing hard trying to get her breath after a particularly hard session.
He’d smiled. It wasn’t friendly. “You don’t know that sweetness.”
Weapons training had been next and three months in, they joined the Cyborgs training each day on rotation.
Until that ship wide communication eventually cut into that session telling them they’d hit the next failure point in the programming. They’d dropped the session and rushed towards the Bridge ready to take their seats. It was their eighth drop from folding space. Boosted scans were sent out as she took her seat watching the Captain work.
“New Bridge wear?” Sord asked her with his eyebrows raised working on whatever he was doing.
Donna looked down. She was wearing a sports bra and training shorts. She was hardly naked, not that any one of them would have blinked an eye if she had been. In curiosity they might have asked why she was naked to understand the logic. But modesty wasn’t a value they thought about. It was a needless loss of energy to have such considerations, Brok had told her when she’d asked why they weren’t bothered. “Didn’t have time to change Captain.” She told him straight.
He ignored her and looked at the screen. Donna picked up her data pad and read the intel coming across it. She recalled that first jump stopping at day 46 and then cruising for 6 more days which had set the pattern of each stop thereafter. Unsure what to expect, the decision had been made to stop early, look for a few days before the expected failure and a few after. Just in case the computer and projections had been wrong. They hadn’t. Dropping out of folding space at day 46 debris waited on them. An awful lot of it.
Knowing it was possible had been one thing. She hadn’t been prepared for the shock of actually seeing it. Parts of a ship were spewed across the horizon floating in space as far as you could see. Only then did it really sink in. An urgent salvage job had indicated it was from an Old Earth vessel. To her, it looked like a whole section of the ship had blown. She’d worried how anyone had survived it.
It was exactly as the predicted oxygen tank blow out would be, in line with their own computer’s assessment, based on the original schematics they’d obtained. They’d been no doubting the intel after that. Sadly, it looked like their projections had been spot on. The first in a series of failures had occurred on that ship.
Sord’s team had worked hard to retrieve what they could. She been shocked when she’d closed off the ship in her senses and reached out across the debris with her gift to find …..organics. Alerting the crew that she’d identified possible organics in the field, it led them to finding nineteen Cyborgs shut down and frozen in the void of space. Several had serious injuries, but the freeze of space had cauterised them. She’d struggled to cope with the casual disregard Earth Corp had for them in allowing this. Then surprised to hear there was a chance they could be revived. Bringing them on board they’d been put in stasis until Mac their Doctor could look at them at the Space Station. They were turned off but might not be completely dead.
That was amazing news. Donna wasn’t sure how Mac was going to be able to bring them back at all, but the Cyborgs were sure. She’d tried to get a reading off them, but she’d got nothing. They’d packed up shop and moved on to the next target. Then the next and kept going. Jumping in where expected, looking for anything to indicate the ship had been that way, then jumping on to the next one.
It had become her new life. Had she imagined sitting on a Bridge in her sports ware? Never. Things had changed. She looked at the data more closely. They’d found debris at the other sites since that first one but no more Cyborgs. Until now…….? She zeroed in on a blip. And sent it across to Sord. “This might be important,” she told him.
He didn’t look down and she knew he was accessing it via his neuro net and optical interface.
“Agreed, target that sector. Get me debris. Donna do you sense anything else?”
She reached for her gift to go beyond her finger tips. Cantering herself she identified and held onto the bubble that was the ship in space beyond the walls. Then closed it off in her mind and searched the universe around them. She couldn’t pick up an electrical vibe like you would from a live subject, but she sensed something familiar ….it was …… organic like the others. “Yes. It’s organic. One, maybe two of ours …maybe?” A hand touched her shoulder. It was reassuring and she looked up. Brok stood there. “You can’t feel them?” she asked.
Brok shook his head. “No. They’ll be shut down with no activity like the others.” Donna nodded and looked back at the screen. If they found even one more, it was worth coming, sh
e told herself.
“Nothing else Donna?” Sord asked her.
She stretched out her senses. Closing her eyes, she focused on the space around the organic matter. Looking and searching for anything different from cold hard space. There was something…… “Something to the east, a trail, eddy’s, not organic but a movement through space of some kind.”
He didn’t speak again so she guessed he was communicating with his men. They continued to move forward. “A ships signature trail,” the ops Cyborg reported.
“The one we’re looking for?” Sord asked.
“No another one.”
“Can you tell how long ago?”
“Negative. No point of origin. Could be decades, could be days.”
Donna looked up surprised. Ships energy trails were their own personal signature you could tell them apart. Even with the same engines they gave off different trails. Something to do with the way they were built. They all came out slightly different. A bit like Cyborgs.
She frowned. “Thought we didn’t have another ship out here?”
“We don’t.” Brok told her.
Donna looked up at him surprised. “Who the hell is that?”
“Damn good question,” Sord answered. She looked over at him. “We should find out. Get me everything we can scan from that trail.” The Bridge fell silent again as his men worked. She’d got used to that happening over the last five months. When it came down to working together, they used their neuro net. She wasn’t offended. If she had one, she’d use it too. “Log all info,” Sord said for her benefit. “I want that ships speed and possible direction and to know who it is. We’ll be back for it. But this mission comes first. All debris and men on board. Plot the course of that trail. Launch sensor. Prepare to jump to our next location.”
What the hell? No one said anything about pursuing strange ships that could lead anywhere. From what she’d read, other ships weren’t a good thing. Anything could happen and generally did. Shit. Her job was done here. See needed some air. “Permission to leave the Bridge?” she asked she was in need of a shower and a drink. Brok dropped his hand from her shoulder.
“Granted. Good job. Get some rest. It should be 23 days to the next jump.”
Donna nodded and got up. She looked up at Brok, an understanding passing between them. They’d had this discussion. If things went badly, he’d take care of her. She wasn’t going to be taken by anyone. Turning she walked off the Bridge.
She felt edgy. Unsure. Had this been what she’d signed up for? She wasn’t sure…. Being told the dangers wasn’t the same as facing them. With more urgency she made her way to her bunk. Maybe some rest would be good…. Three weeks to the next jump. At this rate, it was going to take another six months to get there……
***
The snow had stopped but it was bitingly cold. The chill factor minus 32. Not that he felt the chill so much. His body continued to automatically regulate his body temperature regardless of the temperature around him and the extra warmth curtesy of the wild beasts’ skins helped too. Although he could stroll around naked and not feel frozen, it wasn’t recommended and not for long.
Not that doing that would be of interest to him. Regulation uniform was all he knew and putting it on each day…. automatic. And the only item of clothing in the replicator log. Each pattered to their ID. The 4D printer used basic materials to complete organic construction. Everything from fibre cups and plates to food and clothing. It could provide everything you needed. Drinks, delicacies, bread, you name it, it could give you a version of it, as long as it was programmed into the system. Not that Cyborgs had delicacies on the menu. No. Basic nutrition. And 0103 could guess that if it wasn’t for their need of high protein to keep them in peek condition, they wouldn’t have had access to real meat at all.
The smell of his coda in his hands was a reminder that he particularly liked it. He’d often wondered if it was a throwback to his human side. A syn version of coffee. The real stuff had never been available to them. It cost far too many credits. But the coda was loaded with caffeine and seen as a supplement by the Designers. A cheap boost to the system and its use had been encouraged.
0103 Sipped the steaming coda in his fibre cup looking at the world around him. Nothing was wasted in the ship. Everything it provided was recycled, broken down and reused. Having started with four replicators, he was down to his last one. Like most things on the ship, like the Cyborgs themselves in fact, they’d been revolutionary in their conception, but they had flaws and started to malfunction as they were used. Then stopped altogether. The fact that he was alone by the time the second one went on him, was a mixed blessing.
With only his use it from that point forward, it lasted four times longer than the first one. When the current one eventually broke down, things would get a bit more difficult. Being the efficient Cyborg he was, he’d already stock piled a number of items ready for that day. Eventually, everything on the ship would stop. His data without asking for it, provided an approximation of that day. He didn’t need to see what he already knew. The ship was dying. 0103 Wiped the data from his optic and sipped more coda as the sun finally came up over the horizon.
Nothing lasted forever. Draining the last of his drink, he bent to pick up his riffle as the wind suddenly picked up, blowing his hair around his face. He’d stopped cutting it after the commander had gone back into stasis. There seemed little point. His bit of defiance against Earth Corp, he surmised. Now it was way passed his shoulders and needed tying back to keep it in check. 0103 Adjusted the tie at his nap and started his patrol of the security fence around their camp. At 6ft 3.4 inches and a 50.2inch chest, a couple of foot of snow was no major obstacle, and far easier since he’d cleared away a path of the latest snow fall.
He checked the first post as his mind wandered yet again. He’d dreamed again last night…. His sleep cycle confused him. They’d started a three months ago. In his entire existence, he’d never experienced dreams prior to this but for the past few months, the dreams were vivid with a female at the heart of them. He didn’t know her. She’d hovered in the distance at first. If he tried to get near to her she’d get further away.
Logic told him she exactly where she was meant to be. He was meant to see her only. If that changed, so would the dream. And so it did. The female had appeared again and again to him. And as time moved on, the female came nearer. She would smile and wave at him. Beckon him to her. 0103 Went, not able to reach her until that last time. Dream or not, she was the first person he’d seen in so many years. She was pretty and full of life and from the start he’d started to look forward to his sleep cycles.
And as they progressed so did the dreams. His systems check provided no answers as to how this was happening or why. Questions rolled around in his mind day after day conflicting with his data no nearer any answers. Each new sleep cycle adding more to the mix. As the days moved on, so did his passion for the female. She was constantly in his dreams….. and haunting his days……
When at last she was within reach, he had so many questions but first he needed to touch her, he’d told her he wished she were real, that he would enjoy her company. I am real… she whispered, you are not alone…she told him just as he’d woke back to reality.
His emotional diagnostic told him he was disappointed, angry. He sensed loss. It was not logical to have emotions for a dream. He had the uncontrollable desire to have tasted her. Grasp her to him and kiss her deeply. 0103 Emotions lit up with confused feelings. His diagnostic all over the place. There was no logic to any of it. Cyborgs did not willingly crave females. Had he been alone so long his senses were failing him? His diagnostic crossed his optic once more. Was he malfunctioning? Why would he want to feel her body come alive under his touch? He didn’t understand it. Was he so desperate for company that he would make this up…? The reality was Cyborgs simply didn’t dream. How was this possible? Why now? When had he ever wanted a female so much? 0103 Ran a complete system check, the multitude of questi
ons without data flooding his mind. Confused and conflicted by his own lack of data he had no idea how to fix it. What was wrong with him…?
How had this happened? he continued to ask himself moving firm footed along the path he’d cleared. Trying to throw off the annoyance that he lacked the knowledge he needed to make informed decisions. It was another emotion he did not need and all the while, concentrating on not falling on the ice. His emotions in constant flux and conflict since the dreams started. He had to focus. Wiping the questions from his mind he focused on the job at hand. The physical exertion feeling good, helping clear his mind.
Right then his data told him he was grateful for it. He’d made it a part of his routine to save resources where possible. He would check and do what he could manually. It was impossible to rely on the computer for everything, he didn’t have the power to waste. And he couldn’t be everywhere at once. A balance had to be found. Choosing the essential things, making sure they were not about to fail on him was about life or death.
Sensors on the security fence couldn’t pick up everything and they had to be checked manually. The system showed a fluctuation in its field. 11.8% Drift. There were no guarantees that it wouldn’t fail. It was a double-edged sword. He needed to see it himself, check the relays and hardware in person, but he knew better than to go too close to it. 10ft Back was the safety margin but that wouldn’t give him the up-close inspection he needed, and the larger predator had a very long reach. Although the camp was brightly lit within the area, outside it, the roaming search lights did their job but once the predators got hungry, they’d be circling, and the lights wouldn’t help much. He knew they’d be hiding in the darkness waiting for their chance. That’s why he chose sun up to start the checks. The beasts would be moving back to their hunting grounds eventually finding sanctuary underground to rest out the day.
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