by Gregg Vann
Why are there four?
“Tien? How do you feel?” The voice was familiar, but not overly so.
Where am I? And what’s wrong with my eyes?
“Who are you?” I asked the non-distinct apparition. “Why can’t I see?”
“I’m Brother Dyson. Do you remember me? Do you remember who you are?”
“Kiro Tien, Udek Special Corp. I remember everything, monk. So you did it. You managed to transfer me into another body after all.”
“Not exactly.”
I squinted hard, trying to clear my vision…what the hell? I felt a second pair of eyelids close, right after the first slid shut.
“Open your eyes slowly, Tien. Don’t squint or try to focus. Relax your eyes and let them work naturally.”
I did as he said, and the colors and multiple images coalesced into a single vision. It was the most defined view of the world imaginable, crisp and clear beyond description. Looking to my left, I saw Dyson shutting down some machinery. I was in the lab, seated upright in an operating chair, wearing a dark blue uniform. I reached up to feel my eyes and stopped abruptly when I saw my hand; it was a monochrome, black and white…and partially translucent. It was thin but not fragile, and had six fingers.
Udek had five.
“What have you done to me, monk?” I demanded.
“What you asked, Tien. And I will keep our bargain. Will you?”
“What did you do?”
“What was necessary, but I fear I may have corrupted my own karma irreparably. You are in a Brenin body; Queltz killed the creature on his way here and put the body in stasis. We installed the soul chamber inside it, and did our level-best to integrate everything properly, but the physiology is so strange; I fear what the end result may be.”
“You put me in a Brenin corpse!”
“Only temporarily. We can transfer you to your clone when you return. If you return.”
My vision…the hand…it all made sense now.
“My senses are in revolt, monk. This air tastes bizarre.”
I shifted forward in the chair and stood up awkwardly. I wasn’t as tall as I’d been, yet still towered over the monk. I took a few steps forward and marveled at the mechanism of my legs. The gait was long and fast.
Dyson noticed my surprise. “It’s called digitigrade. Very common in some Earth species of animals, but I’ve never seen it in a sentient race. Until now.”
I stumbled to the side and was forced to correct myself. “It will take some getting used to.”
“You have until tomorrow. Colonel Eraz is leaving then. And you are going with her.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“Just outside the door. I thought we should talk first, especially after what happened between you and Queltz.”
“Talk about what?”
“About our arrangement, Tien. They explained to me what you are—what you are capable of. I want you to save Bodhi Prime. I don’t care about the Udek plans, and I suspect you don’t either, but if you can sabotage the Brenin fleet and give the Udek a chance defeat them, I promise to restore you and your wife. Eraz is having her information sent to me now, and we will begin growing her clone as soon as it arrives.”
“And why are we having this conversation in private, monk?”
“Because I wanted to personally promise you this: no matter what the Udek want done with you two after this is all over, I will see that you are set free. And also make sure you have a ship and money enough to live out your lives somewhere away from these animals.”
“These animals are my people,” I replied testily. “And if you insist on judging us with your misguided sense of morality, you should know that I am far from innocent myself. In fact, even among the amoral Udek, my actions are often viewed as immoral. You don’t know anything about me, monk.”
“Oh, I do know about you, Tien. More than you think. Possibly even more than you know about yourself. I have counseled many over the years, seen acts of depravity that make yours seem tame in comparison. I will grant you this, though, I’ve never before met such a proficient killer.”
“Killing is what I do best, monk. I’ve never met my equal if he exists. But don’t pretend to understand my mind, it is beyond you.”
“Really?” Dyson replied. “Tell me, Tien, why didn’t you kill that child when they ordered you to? You’ve never abandoned a mission before…so why now? You’ve set explosive traps in public places that killed hundreds—innocents as well as your intended targets. You even blew up an entire starship full of people once to kill a single passenger onboard.”
How did he know about that?
“And I know that you’ve expressly murdered children before,” he continued. “That’s probably why they chose you for this mission in the first place. Why was this child different? What was so special about him? Of all of the thousands of lives you’ve taken over the years, what was so exceptional about this one boy?”
“Nothing. As you say, I’ve killed children before.”
“Ah…so you see my point, then. If there was nothing unique about the target, then maybe the difference was with you. You’ve changed, Tien, whether you realize it or not. And I believe you are on the cusp of redemption.”
“Ha! Oh, that’s very entertaining, monk, but save your baseless suppositions for someone else. Spend those efforts on someone you at least have a chance of convincing. They are wasted on me.”
“Are they? You like to think of yourself as a remorseless killer, Tien, but if you are so devoid of all emotion—have no empathy whatsoever—then why entertain our bargain at all? You are in that body, prepared to undergo a mission we both know will probably end in your death, all for the love of one person…Dasi. And yes, Tien, make no mistake, it is love that drives you.”
Enough!
“Silence, monk!” I snapped. “Other than bringing her back to me, Dasi is not your concern. Drop this ridiculous attempt to analyze me now before I show you just how remorseless I can be. Now… What about our agreement?”
The old monk shrugged, conceding the argument, but not his sentiments. “Believe as you will, Tien, but I know I’m right. And I will keep our bargain: freedom for you and Dasi, regardless of what the Udek want. You and I both know they will never let you be.”
The blasted monk had a point. They wouldn’t just let a member of the Special Corp go free. Hell, they’d imprisoned Dasi just to control me. This Brother Dyson seemed to know a great deal about how the Udek Confederation operated, and I was beginning to think I may have underestimated him entirely.
“How do I know I can trust you, monk?”
“Because the fate of my world is in your hands. I should think that would be enough.”
“For now, maybe. And afterward, assuming I can even do this, how do I know you will keep your word?”
“You will have to trust me, Tien. I have no other assurances.”
Trust?
Was he serious?
But what other choice did I really have? Especially in this body. Dyson controlled my clone, and the means to transfer me into it; I was completely at his mercy to regain my own body. And mercy was an unfamiliar concept with which I’d had little experience. But there was a much less complicated truth as well: Dyson and I needed each other, and we both had too much to lose if we failed to cooperate.
“We have an arrangement, monk, with one further condition; regardless what happens to me, even if I’m killed in this attempt, you will revive Dasi and set her free.”
“Agreed, Tien. But I’d never hand her back over to the Udek regardless. I heard how she died in that prison.”
I searched his face for any signs of deception, just as I’d been trained to do. And with the Brenin’s superior vision, I was able to be even more accurate than usual. He exhibited no nervous behavior—his pupils were fixed and steady. Even the small thump from the carotid arteries in his neck remained placid. He was telling the truth.
“Very well, monk. Call in Eraz; I need to
find out what she knows.”
I watched as he moved to the door, marveling at the detail of it all. I could hear a slight scraping sound with each step as his sandals lifted from the floor. And when they met the ground again, it reverberated like a drum beat. I could even hear the air displaced by the footfalls, and determined that Dyson favored his right leg. My hearing was as equally enhanced as my vision, and I felt swallowed up by the amount of stimuli flooding in from every direction. I noted a faint hiss as the door slid open.
“It’s about time, monk,” Eraz said, storming angrily into the room. She was followed closely by the two soldiers, both of whom leveled their guns at me as soon as they cleared the doorway.
“Just look at it,” one of them remarked.
“Shut up, and watch it closely,” Eraz commanded. Then she turned her attention to me. “Is that really you in there, Tien?”
“It is, Colonel. Tell your men to lower their weapons and leave if you expect any cooperation from me.”
Anger flashed across her face, followed quickly by a look of resignation. She nodded to the soldiers, and they reluctantly withdrew back into the hallway.
“Happy now, spy?”
“No. What was your plan, Eraz? What did Queltz have up his sleeve to deal with the Brenin?”
She started to speak, but then paused to stare at me. “I can’t believe you are in that body. This is so…bizarre. And how can I understand you? The movements of your mouth don’t match your words.”
Dyson spoke up. “He’s speaking Brenin. The soul chamber bridges his words through to the Brenin brain, where it’s translated automatically into their language. He should be able to communicate with them flawlessly. I have synched the chamber’s communications stream to this console, and it’s broadcasting his actual speech. Without it, it would all be gibberish to us.”
“What was Queltz’s plan, Colonel?” I asked again, but more brusquely this time.
She took a few steps toward me before speaking, her eyes assessing me in fascination. “He didn’t have one, actually.”
“What?”
“It’s true. After you infiltrated Nilot, he became convinced that you could get through the Brenin defenses and make your way onboard one of their ships. He didn’t know exactly how you’d do it, but he knew you’d find a way.”
“And once I got onboard, then what?”
Eraz became more animated. “The Brenin fleet is comprised of a mixture of cultural and military groups called clans. From what we’ve been able to uncover, it seems that they are naturally wary of one another. In fact, our intelligence points to large schisms throughout the Brenin ranks. It’s a wonder they can work together at all.”
“Yes. I know all this. I’ve seen those same reports.”
“Of course… Queltz wanted you to assassinate the leader of this particular armada and implicate another Brenin faction in the murder. If we can place the blame on one of the other clans, we can take advantage of the chaos and retribution that follows.” She cleared her throat noisily. “It would also be very helpful if you could find a way through that damnable shield they use to protect their fleets—it would be nice to level the playing field for a change.”
“Is that all?” I scoffed.
But I knew that she was right…about everything. Not that it made what she was asking any easier. The Udek hadn’t been very successful meeting the Brenin head-on in battle; that much was certain. For every one ship of theirs we managed to destroy, we lost ten of ours. If there was a way to make them fight each other, it would be an excellent start at turning this war around. And finding a way past their nearly impervious shielding might even prove more beneficial.
“What else?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You are hiding something. What is it?”
I noticed a slight elevation in perspiration—the guarded tone of her voice—hesitation as she chose her words carefully, trying not to reveal…something.
She looked up at the ceiling, then back down at me, placing her hands on her hips. “This is classified, Tien. After what happened at Nilot, Queltz didn’t want you to have access to any sensitive information. To be frank, I don’t think he trusted anyone in Special Corp.” She rubbed her chin and then blew out a hard breath. I saw the filters on her mask dilate and then shrink back to their original size in response.
“But Queltz is gone now, and these are desperate times. We’ve captured one of their ships,” she announced. “We finally have a tangible piece of Brenin technology. On the way to Bodhi Prime to get you, we encountered a small Brenin craft shadowing the main fleet. At first, we thought it was an advance scout, but its movements didn’t make sense. It was hiding from the Brenin fleet, staying just outside their sensor range. But not ours. We attacked and disabled it, finding that body you’re wearing on board. It was the sole occupant. The Brenin corpse gave the general an idea. Queltz hoped that the monks could alter your clone, or even the cyborg, to look like that thing you’re in now—so you could operate in their midst undetected. He never imagined this outcome, but if he’d known it was possible, he wouldn't have hesitated either. With or without your assent.”
“We can change the atonement monk’s appearances,” Dyson chimed in. “We strive to make each look just like the client. But something at this level…it never would have worked. The research branch would have to work on the problem for months to overcome the issues…to make something indistinguishable from the rest of the Brenin. The locomotion alone—”
I waved them both to silence. “I understand the situation. Where is that ship now?”
“It’s in our cargo hold. We are taking it back to the Confederation for study. We can learn so much…from Brenin ship fabrication, to whatever information we can glean from the databases on board— it’s an intelligence goldmine.”
“Yes it is, Colonel. Tell me, why should I risk my life for this mission? What will happen to me should I make it back?”
“A full pardon,” she said assuredly. “That’s what Queltz was going to offer you.”
Oh, I’m sure. And then one day, a few weeks or months later, I would mysteriously vanish. But I will play the game…for now anyway. Dyson is offering me what I want, and I need the colonel’s cooperation to fulfill my end of the bargain with him.
“We have an understanding, Eraz. With a few stipulations, of course.”
She stiffened and eyed me suspiciously. “Such as?”
“I need that captured ship to infiltrate the Brenin fleet. It’s my best chance.”
“But we—”
“Relax, Colonel. We still have a couple of days until we meet up with the Brenin—plenty of time to study the ship. In fact, I’d like for you to rip it apart and take samples of everything. Just make sure it stays space-worthy…even if just barely. I want it to look like it’s been through hell and back, and in desperate need of rescue.”
“What else?” she sighed.
“I want Queltz dead.”
“He is. You killed him.”
“No, Colonel. I want every medical record and neural scan wiped. Each cerebral mapping ferreted out and destroyed. Every trace of that bastard disappeared from our records.”
I watched her eyes widen behind the mask, then turned to Dyson. “And I want your pledge that that animal will never be resurrected, monk.”
Dyson didn’t hesitate. “You have it.”
Eraz stomped hard on the ground before spitting out, “You are one vindictive bastard, Tien.”
“Yes I am, Colonel.”
“Remember that…”
Chapter Seven
Early the next morning, I started practicing with my new body in an enclosed exercise space near the landing port. In spite of Bodhi Prime’s reputation as a mostly arid wasteland, the air was surprisingly humid, and condensed moisture glistened on the glass windows overlooking the courtyard where I ran.
And how I could run.
But it was more than just simple speed, I was in
credibly agile as well, abruptly switching direction at will and leaping with alarming distance and precision. I quickly grew into the new form. The brain and body were already used to working together flawlessly, it was more of a case of me learning what my new capabilities were, rather than how to use them.
I sprinted toward one of the block walls, ran up it, and then flipped over backward to land upright on the ground. It was a maneuver I’d practiced often with my Udek body, but in this form, I subconsciously made two complete revolutions before landing solidly on my feet. I’d always prided myself on my overall fitness and training regimen; I knew that my life depended on it. But this was on a whole different level. This was exhilarating.
My excitement waned rapidly when I jumped up on a platform and tried to grasp some exercise rings, placed sequentially along a pole about five meters long. I fell repeatedly as I tried to swing from ring to ring—unable to grab them with enough strength to support my body. The extra fingers did nothing to improve my grip. It wasn’t that the body was heavy, the hands were simply too weak, and lifting it was a chore. With a great deal of concentration, I was able to grab and hold on to one of the rings, but when I swung forward to grasp the next one, my grip failed and I dropped to the ground.
I finally gave up and walked over to a storage bin sitting in one corner of the courtyard. Rifling through the exercise equipment inside, I found a pair of small metal balls and placed one in each hand. I spun them around and through my fingers—on the inside and outside of my hands. They might not be strong, but these hands possessed tremendous dexterity.
“Tien!” someone shouted from behind me.
I turned around to see Eraz entering the courtyard, and even from this distance I noticed the tension on her face—the breathing mask did nothing to hide it. She’d inherited a great deal of responsibility when I killed Queltz and was bearing it poorly.
“It’s time to go,” she said. “The ship is as ready as we have time to make it; it’ll have to do.”
I walked over to join her at the entryway. “Kris sseak hunjeth. Gorasssshethel?”