by Scott Rhine
“We’re soldiers. We fight and we die. It’s what we were made for.”
“It’s what we were made for but I don’t know that is all we are? Do you believe that is all we are capable of being?” Zane’s words surprised him as he spoke and he realized he was parroting Omar’s words when he was a captive. Zane barely heard Franklin’s response as he considered the question for himself. What was he if not a soldier?
“We aren’t human, Zane. Maybe we can’t escape our destiny.” Franklin’s voice had dropped and Zane could see the tears in his eyes. He remembered how Betty had reacted when he told her that Jeff was dead. Betty, who was just as dead now, killed by the same woman Franklin wanted to murder so badly. It seemed to Zane like death was the sole constant in his life.
“Maybe we can’t.” He said at last. “But we can try.”
Zane spent the next days fretting, fearful of what Franklin might do. He felt detached from the world. Without the war he did not know what to do with himself. He practiced his martial training as much as he could, seeking the oblivion of exhaustion. He passed among the crew of the Moving Finger like a ghost, unable and unwilling to engage with them. On the third day, while he was training in the storage bay the burly woman entered the hatchway and watched him.
“You’re pretty tough, aren’t you?” She said after a few minutes. Zane grunted noncommittally and continued his kata. “If you’re tired of fighting the air and want some real practice I’ll spar with you.” Zane motioned for her to enter. The cargo hold was pretty big but the Sikorsky was not in rotation so there was no directional force. The big woman moved cautiously, her feet picking out the small footholds in the ‘floor’ with a practiced ease.
Neither seemed inclined to rush to action and they circled each other for a long minute. Zane noted the woman’s movements were fluid despite her bulk, indicating a precision he had not seen in the soldier Jeff. The woman spoke as they moved.
“Don’t know that I ever introduced myself to you. My name’s Bella.”
“Zane.”
“I heard. Something about a Z class soldier. That means there’s more like you, back there. Hundreds of you.”
“Thousands, unless my defection has caused them to review my phenotype.”
“That’s a lot of you to be running around. I guess you’re all identical, right? Same programmed thoughts rolling around in thousands of heads? That’s got to make you predictable for an experienced enemy.” She moved forward rapidly as she said the last, feinting an attack. Zane slipped back and to one side, avoiding the hit.
“Ever wonder what all those copies would think about you now? The one that got away? The traitor?”
“I’m not a traitor.” Zane lashed out angrily, his leg cracking against Bella’s thigh. She laughed as she gripped his leg and wrenched him from his foothold. She twisted his leg and spun him away from her into a wall.
“Of course you are!” She exclaimed, continuing her laughter. “You gave up everything you believed in when you came with us. Abandoned your post.”
“There was nothing there worth fighting for anymore.”
“The top brass were a bunch of idiots so you don’t owe them any loyalty? They were your creators after all.” Bella launched herself at Zane with a speed he found hard to believe. He slid to the left but still took a fist to his side. The two bounced away from each other, each twisting their bodies to realign with a different wall.
“I was just a tool to be used and discarded. They didn’t care about what happened to me. Why should I care about them?”
“Don’t know that you should. I’m just wondering what kind of thoughts a puppet has after it cuts its strings.”
“You think I’m a puppet?” Zane tried to close with Bella but she evaded him easily and laughed again.
“I think you don’t know what you are. You’ve lost your whole reason for living. In my experience that kind of man is the most dangerous, both to himself and those around him.”
“You sound like your boss.” Zane closed again and this time found purchase on Bella’s forearm. He smiled tightly as he felt the bone crack slightly from the hit. Bella took the hit well though and countered with one to his chest which left him gasping.
“Thanks, Zane. I have more respect for that man than anyone else alive. He’s risen from poverty to become a respected captain in what may be humanity’s last interstellar fleet. He commands the respect of captains whose ships dwarf his by orders of magnitude. Do you want to know why he’s so successful? It’s because he believes.”
“Believes in what?”
“Omar believes in many outrageous things. He believes he can singlehandedly curb the rampant violence the Fleet inflicts on worlds it visits. He believes he can stop a centuries old system war just because it’s pointless. He believes that an old woman can become an able mercenary and first officer.” Bella closed with Zane and caught his arm in a hold. He tried to twist away from her but she gripped him with fingers harder than steel and used his motion to get him in a choke hold. She held him until he felt his strength giving out then threw him away from her. “He even believes a puppet can become a real boy if he wishes hard enough.”
Zane braced himself on a crate while wheezing and looked up at her, anguish in his eyes. “And what do you believe?” Bella moved away from him toward the doorway.
“You want to know what I believe? I believe in Omar Khayyam Hadi and that’s enough for me. When we first took you captive I advised Omar to space you and be done with it. I still think it might have been a mercy to do so. A soldier’s life can be an easy one, if short. Yours has been, up till now, orchestrated for you. What will you become now that Omar has given you a choice?” She bowed lightly and pulled herself out of the room, shutting the hatch behind her.
Zane felt his anger rise at the woman’s parting words. He wanted to find her and hurt her, to make her feel the pain he felt inside. Maybe she was right, that he was just a puppet with its strings cut. No wounds he had ever taken felt as terrifying and awful as the emptiness he felt.
More days passed and the feeling that he would never have a purpose again did not fade. He could not bear to be around Franklin as the man’s despair too closely mirrored his own. As he passed the man’s room one day though it seemed the small man had found a way to forgive Bella. Zane saw the two of them speaking together in quiet voices. Seeing Franklin able to move on isolated Zane even further.
He was uncomfortable in the presence of the other humans on the ship and found himself relaxing around the alien Pulan. Perhaps it was simply how ubiquitous the creature was. When not actively engaged in a task, his atomo, as Zane learned they were called, could be found all over the ship loitering in clusters of varying size.
The strange creatures seemed indifferent to him though Pulan was unfailingly polite when fully sentient. Zane found a certain calm watching the creature go about its various tasks on the ship, sometimes splitting into several pieces to work in multiple places at once. There was a peacefulness in the way the parts all worked together, seamless in their interactions with each other. Zane was watching the alien creature in the engine room when he finally broke his silence.
“So do you think of yourself as one creature or many? I hear you say we and our but only when you are mostly one being.”
“Individual atomo are not capable of the speech of humans. We are aware of our individual atomo as discrete objects but all of my species consider ourselves one.”
“So your whole planet is Pulan?”
“No, Pulan is an artificial construct. We consider ourselves much like an atomo that has become separated from the whole and with luck one day will return to the whole.”
“Has an atomo ever decided to part from the whole and strike out on its own?”
“The concept lacks meaning. Decisions of that nature would require consensus to consider. When joined our surfaces emit neural information in chemical and electrical fashion. Our processes merge into consciousness greater than
before. An individual atomo would not think to leave the rest as a piece of your mind would not think to leave your skull.”
“You left though.”
“The conception of Pulan is the result of interaction with alien species, an attempt to understand and adapt to the galactic environment. The decision was not made with only these atomo but one of the greater minds. It was deemed necessary. Species with discrete intelligences have adapted technologies which differ from our own.”
“What, like star drives?”
“Star drives are a solution to a problem in physics. Any species that attempts to understand its environment will inevitably find that solution. We had no real desire to for such technology but would have considered the idea in time. Perhaps the most notable differences are in communication and artificial intelligence. We have consensus to serve us instead of language and had seen no prior need of such machines.”
“No need for computers? How could you not need computers?”
“Computers are means for calculating beyond the abilities of discrete individuals and for sharing and storing information to pass along to others. We merge into larger minds when complex calculations are needed and atomo can pass on information to each other via contact.”
“Then why concern yourself with them now?”
“There are peripheral advantages that result from the development of the technology. Retrieval of information from vessels where no atomo survive as well as automation of processes are two examples. As well, being able to access alien mainframes allows for the transfer of information to us that would otherwise take much time to acquire.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense. It must be nice to have such a noble purpose in life.”
“On the contrary, we would like nothing more than to return to our home and rejoin true consensus. Every day among aliens involves challenges beyond our limited scope to resolve. We continually fail at our efforts at adaptation to the universe as a whole. We feel very much alone and wish we could merge with a greater intelligence once again.”
“I thought you were smarter than everyone here.”
“That may be true by some scales but when compared to the thinking power of our greater minds we are nothing.”
“I know how you feel.”
The ships of the Fleet transitioned to a new stellar system without incident. Zane waited to hear about the world where he and Franklin would be spending their lives. When the word came back that the world was both irradiated and the inhabitants reduced to hunter gatherers his heart fell. He thought that perhaps he would find a world where he fit in. Somehow he knew that living among savages would be no great joy and that things would be even worse for Franklin. When Omar asked them both to join him in the cockpit he felt a weight on his shoulders that the lack of gravity did not lessen.
“So here’s paradise.” Omar said. “What do you think?”
“Thank you for giving us this opportunity.” Zane answered, trying to keep his voice level.
“It’s a shithole.” Apparently Franklin was feeling less diplomatic. Omar laughed and Zane heard Bella snickering in the corridor.
“It is indeed.” Omar said. “Not every world can be a nightmare of genetic engineering gone wrong. Sometimes humanity destroys itself with much more primitive tools.” Zane turned his head and looked at Franklin. The little man rolled his eyes.
“Omar,” Zane began, “You have been very generous to transport us to this world. Is there any way that generosity could be extended to a world where there are working toilets?”
“Not a chance.” Omar replied. “I’m not running a charity here. We don’t have room for freeloaders.”
“What if we worked for our passage?”
“You might have something there. Franklin’s expertise in computers would be a handy skill, but I already have Bella for soldiering. Don’t know that I need another drone.”
Bella moved into the room at that moment and interrupted. “Begging your pardon boss, but that’s not entirely true. We could always use another soldier and to be honest I think Zane could operate the ship’s weapon systems a hell of a lot better than me.”
“Still not enough.” Omar’s eyes held Zane’s captive, demanding a better answer. Zane tried to give him one.
“I can learn. I know Pulan is pulling duty as engineer, medical doctor, and a dozen other things. I can help him. Maybe I can learn some skills more suited to peace than death.”
“There it is. The spark of a true human, wanting to be more than he is.”
“What about my spark?” Franklin interrupted.
“I know for a fact that Bella has already seen your spark.” Both Bella and Franklin began to turn red at this statement. Zane turned a quizzical look at his companion. Franklin shrugged and smiled. It seemed that while Zane had been wallowing in his own troubles Franklin had moved on to bigger and better things.
There was little of interest for the Fleet in that system and soon enough they had moved on to another world. Zane knew that the ship he had spent the last weeks moping around in was actually attached to one of the large vessels during transit and that their isolation had been self inflicted by Omar. Now that they had agreed to become crew he paroled them after a brief warning to avoid the wrath of Captain Kharzin. Bella offered to show them around. Zane marveled that a warship of that scale could offer so many opportunities for leisure.
The very idea of leisure was foreign to Zane, who had lived his life either in combat or awaiting it. To find that the crew of the Moving Finger only worked a part of the day seemed like a waste. Zane did not enjoy being idle, especially when alone with his thoughts.
He found much more satisfaction learning from Pulan and interactive tutorials he found on the networks. The ideas were challenging and kept his mind occupied. He rapidly realized that he would never be an engineer like Pulan. His mind simply did not work in those ways. The most he could hope for was to know enough to be a useful technician.
Once he examined the weapon systems though, he found a niche where he could be more useful. They had been installed and maintained well enough but no one on the Finger had calibrated them properly. He could tell that some systems had never even been tested. Working to get them up to speed was a perfect merger of his natural talents for war and the skills he was struggling to learn from Pulan.
The alien was forever patient while teaching him. Pulan told him that the act of teaching helped him to understand how human minds worked and as such it was helpful for his long term goals. The two became quite close and Zane learned many things about the alien creatures called Pulan that he doubted the rest of the crew knew.
It seemed that the atomo’s ability to coordinate neural activity had begun as a defensive mechanism during their evolution. Their ancestors had secreted neural toxins which could affect the brains of creatures on their homeworld, inciting fear or revulsion. Over time these chemical secretions had advanced enough to allow the primitive atomo to communicate simple concepts to each other. They had also become able to more fully control other species, turning them into domesticated helpers.
The rise of the atomo into a fully conscious civilization was less one of dominance and more one of careful cultivation of their environment. By the time they were able to combine fully enough to think as a single unit they were already the masters of their world. Their combining into massive minds was less a directed goal than a natural result of the atomo’s desire to be near each other.
Zane marveled at the peaceful nature of the creatures, who had not known war before the arrival of an alien species. Nor had they ventured from their homeworld. Their first contact was a species that was unaware of their abilities and captured only a few atomo for study. Their surprise when the atomo combined and began sending out vibrational patterns indicative of intelligence must have been great.
Zane believed that the creatures had been amazingly lucky that the species which contacted them, the Vantra, were more moral than others. He shuddered to think what
man might do when presented with such creatures. The Vantra instead traded information. Though an advanced civilization in their own right, the greater minds of the atomo had surpassed them in some ways. It was they who offered to bring Pulan with them into the stars so that the greater minds could learn from his experiences.
Zane wished that he had a friend to speak about all of these things with. Franklin had become increasingly occupied with Bella and spent most of the rest of his time accessing the systems on the Sikorsky. Omar discomforted Zane in a way he did not really understand. The man seemed to resonate with an inner strength that made Zane feel quite small whenever he was around.
Time passed, as it tends to do, and Zane settled into a comfortable routine. Training with Pulan, sparring with Bella and studying the weapons of the Fleet alternated with missions when the ships were in system.
Most of these were simple guard duty jobs but every once in a while the Moving Finger would get caught in a situation calling for his unique expertise. It galled him to think it but he could not deny that it was during those times which felt most alive. When running through a corridor firing on an enemy the rest of the world faded away into a low buzz. Zane knew that he would never feel as whole fixing a leaking conduit as he was on a battlefield. It was where he fit. He might have escaped from the war that possibly still engulfed his home system but that war lived on in him. Sometimes in the night when he was unable to sleep he thought he had made a mistake in coming with Omar. It had really been Franklin who asked to leave with the Fleet. Zane had only gone along because he did not want to fight a war that had no reason to continue.
He wondered though whether the battles he fought now had any more purpose. He knew that Omar tried at all times to limit the ravages the Fleet might inflict on the systems they visited but to what end? Why should the Fleet exist at all? It seemed like it was much like himself, a relic that fought but had no reason to continue. Its purposelessness mirrored his own and in that one sad way he felt he fit in with the Fleet.