Cyberdrome

by Joseph Rhea

  “You may return to your people, if you wish,” Alek said, trying to sound as confident as he had a moment before. With the initial dose of adrenalin dissipating in his body, it was becoming more difficult.

  The KaNanee stood, but this time, his muscles weren’t flexed in anger. Even though he stood almost a half-meter taller than Alek, the fierce warrior looked humbled.

  “I have nowhere to go,” he said quietly.

  Alek was about to ask what he meant, when Kay Broon, who had been standing back in the shadows, stepped forward.

  “My mate and I will leave you now,” she said.

  “What does he mean he has nowhere to go?” Alek asked.

  Kay Broon placed herself between Alek and her mate and glared at him. Alek was sure that she was about to attack him as well, when Kaido spoke up.

  “My mate tries to protect my honor,” he said. “But, it is no use. I am no longer the leader of the KaNanee warriors. I was about to be replaced by my second when I left to join your mission. If I had stayed, I would have been gutted by the tribe.”

  Alek stood there staring at the large man before him. His face had grown dark and sullen. He had no tribe to lead, a small human had just humiliated him, and now his mate was forced to defend him. He had nothing left to lose, and that made him more dangerous than ever.

  And, perhaps, ready to evolve, Alek realized. Just as a soccer team needed players of different size, speed, and talent, this team would need fierce warriors like the KaNanee. They would also need the cleverness and the agility of the CeeAut. They were on the verge of becoming a team, and Alek had to make sure Jas Kaido and his mate would become a part of it.

  Alek stepped past the female KaNanee, and faced Kaido. Think of him as a really big dog, he reminded himself. Dogs are pack animals. They need a sense of their place in the community. Right then, Kaido had none.

  “You’re a part of this tribe now, Kaido,” Alek said. “You’re by far the strongest member among us, and we might not succeed without you.”

  Just then, another explosion shook the tunnel. Kaido looked up at the tunnel ceiling and then down at Alek. “There is no chance of success here,” he said. “All that is left is to gut as many of the enemy as possible before we die.”

  “There are other ways to win,” Alek said. “But you have to be a team player. You have to trust the Sentinels and listen to what Javid and I say.”

  “I take orders from no one,” Kaido said. Some of the fire was returning to his voice.

  “We don’t give orders,” Alek said, suddenly recalling an old speech his former soccer coach used to give. “We will lead you, but we don’t want followers. We want you to understand our path, and then choose to go there on your own.”

  There was a long pause and Alek began to wonder if his speech was too cryptic for the KaNanee. Then Kaido bared his teeth and stepped forward grasped Alek by the shoulder. Alek almost flinched from the pain but managed to stand still.

  “Yes, yes. I agree with this style of leadership,” Kaido said with a slight chuckle in his voice. “I attempted to do something similar once with my tribe, but of course they are too stuck in tradition.” He patted Alek on the back so hard it knocked the wind out of him. “We will work well together, Gray Sentinel.”

  Alek gasped for breath and slapped Kaido on the back as hard as he could. It only made the KaNanee laugh again and slap him even harder.

  “We have a new tribe now?” Kay Broon asked her mate.

  Kaido grabbed Kay around the waist with one arm and lifted her up. “Yes, my fierce and beautiful mate. We are again part of a whole.”

  A large chunk of tunnel wall collapsed next to one of the Tracers.

  “We need to go,” Javid called out. “Kaido, Broon. Take the lead with the CeeAut.”

  As the two KaNanee raced to their Tracers, Alek ran back to the Rover and climbed inside along with the others. Then they all held on as Cloudhopper powered up the Rover and headed down the tunnel.

  FIFTEEN

  As the Rover began its slow descent into the Mole tunnel, Javid quietly slipped out the side door and used an exterior ladder to climb up to the roof. He then crawled on all fours to the rear of the vehicle and sat down facing backward. If the transparent creature he had seen earlier was following them, he knew it would not show up on scanners. A set of enhanced eyes like his might be their only defense against such an enemy.

  As he moved his visual receivers up and down the spectrum, a subtle change in the background gave the intruder away. It was staying over fifty meters back, just out of normal eyesight, obviously on a mission of reconnaissance rather than attack.

  He jumped off the moving Rover and rolled when he hit the hard tunnel floor. He stayed low and crawled off to the side of the tunnel, hoping to avoid detection by the following creature. As the Rover rolled away down the tunnel, he slowed his breathing and waited silently in the dark.

  A few seconds later, he felt a slight gust of air as something large moved past him in the darkness. He leapt into the tunnel and landed on something floating in mid air. After adjusting his vision a few times, he realized that the object beneath him was completely invisible, even though it felt solid. This was no ordinary creature, he realized.

  As the object below him continued down the tunnel, Javid began to feel around and discovered that the object was the exact shape of a Tracer. This is the pulsar turret, he thought as he catalogued parts. Over there are the forward weapons launchers, and in between is the top of the canopy.

  Just then, the invisible ship came to an abrupt stop, sending him tumbling forward. He rolled once on the tunnel floor, and then pivoted around to face the object. He still saw nothing in front of him but an empty dark tunnel.

  He was about to call out a challenge to the object, when a Tracer materialized before him. At least it mostly appeared, since he could still see through it in places. Then a mop of copper hair rose out of the opening canopy, and his digital heart nearly stopped beating.

  “Elsala?” he whispered. “Can it be you?”

  The woman climbed down from the Tracer and stood before him.

  “Please do not hinder me,” she said. “I must protect the Gift.”

  “Elsala,” he repeated as he reached out for her.

  She backed up a step as if she were afraid of his touch. “You are a Blue Sentinel,” she said. “You will assist me in protecting the Gift.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Elsala. What happened to you? Where have you been?”

  She looked to her side as if she were addressing the tunnel wall. “He is a Blue,” she repeated. “He can help me.”

  “Of course I can help you,” he said, wondering how long she had been like this. The detonation of the intruder must have damaged her basic programming. “I searched for you for so long. Now I see that I gave up too soon.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed, and then a half-smile appeared on her face. “You are Sentinel Rho.”

  “Yes,” he said as he reached for her again. This time she stood motionless and his hands passed through her. He stared in disbelief at the green glow left behind on his palms.

  “We are the Lost,” she said, holding her hands out as if she were referring to a large group. “We have returned to help the Gift find its home.”

  “You were deleted,” he whispered, “but for some reason your program was not recycled.” He thought about what that meant. Programs were always recycled after deletion—that was the balance of matter and energy in Cyberdrome. If the initial attack on Cyberdrome had damaged that primary function, it could explain why there were no new Sentinels being sent to HomeSpace. Perhaps there were other deleted Sentinels like her wandering HomeSpace, half-visible, half-alive.

  He stared at her with a new understanding. “You’re a ghost?” he finally asked aloud.

  “Yes,” she said. “However, there are no other Sentinels outside the Deletion Zone. I have come to restore the balance, and I am alone.” She looked from side t
o side, and then added. “Mostly.”

  “You can read my thoughts?”

  “Of course,” she said as if it were as simple as breathing.

  “You led me into the planetary simulation,” he said, realizing the truth of it just then. She had caught his attention at the tunnel opening and led him into the Watchport beam. “Why did you trick me like that?”

  “The Gift had to be returned to HomeSpace,” she said. “In my current state, I could not assist it. Your help was required.”

  He stepped closer, but did not touch her—afraid he would spoil the moment. “Your current state is my fault,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for sending you in alone to attack the intruder.”

  “You did not cause this,” she said. “A device inside the intruder did this to me. I would have been deleted no matter where I was located.”

  “But I lived,” he said, and realized there was a question that had been plaguing his thoughts since that moment. How had he survived when Elsala and every other Sentinel inside HomeSpace had not?

  “The device’s shock wave was designed to absorb energy as it traveled,” she said, answering his thoughts again. “That is how it was able to travel across all of Cyberdrome. You simply had no energy left to absorb.” She smiled again. “That is what protected you.”

  “I understand,” he said, and for the first time since the attack, he did. He had not caused Elsala’s deletion, nor was he responsible for his own survival.

  Her face changed, suddenly becoming soft and full of warmth. “It was not your fault, Javid,” she whispered softly. “None of us were to blame for what happened.”

  “You used my name,” he said, reaching out to her. Perhaps there was still something there, he thought. A glimmer of the Elsala he once knew and loved.

  She suddenly covered her ears and turned to look behind her. “All of you stop yelling at me,” she cried. A moment later, she turned back to Javid and whispered, “Please take me to the Gift.”

  She truly was lost, he realized. My Elsala is gone. He stared at her for a moment longer, before asking, “Where is this Gift you speak of?”

  She uncovered one ear and pointed down the tunnel, toward the rest of the group. He shook his head as he weighed the risks of bringing her to Alek and the others. A deleted Sentinel—and one so clearly unstable—could pose a threat to the mission. However, she was once Elsala, so how could he refuse her request?

  After a moment, he made a command decision and began walking back down the tunnel. Elsala climbed into her Tracer and followed.

  o o o

  Alek was sitting alone in the Research Pod thinking about Earth-Zero when the Rover lurched to a stop. Maya, Herschel, and Cloudhopper stepped through the side hatch.

  “We just got a message on the communications panel,” Maya said. “It said surrender immediately or be terminated.”

  “Who sent the message?” Alek asked.

  “It appears to have come directly from the supervisor program,” Cloudhopper said, “which means Ceejer is somewhere nearby. Seems it wants us alive for some reason.”

  “I think it just wants more hostages,” Maya added. “Anyway, we signaled the Tracers to stop so we can discuss what to do next.”

  Alek followed them out of the Rover. Persis and the two KaNanee were climbing out of their Tracers, each avoiding eye contact with the other. Everyone realized right away that Javid was missing.

  “Where is the Sentinel?” Cloudhopper asked.

  Just then, a low humming sound made them all turn and look back up the tunnel. There was Javid—jogging toward them, followed closely by what appeared to be a partially see-through Tracer.

  Javid walked up to Alek, and then turned to watch someone crawling out of the vehicle. It was the green woman who had helped him out of the fire.

  “Alek, this is Elsala, my former mate,” Javid said, his voice somber. “She was deleted in the original battle with the intruder.” He looked at Alek. “I do not know her motives, but she insisted on coming here.”

  Maya walked over to stand next to the green woman. “I never got a chance to thank you.”

  “You are the Gray Sentinel,” Elsala said as she approached Alek, ignoring Maya altogether.

  “That’s what they tell me,” Alek said.

  Elsala turned to her side and spoke to no one. “You were wrong,” she said. “He carries the Gift. He will set us free.”

  Alek looked at Javid who shook his head. He then faced Elsala. “What Gift?” he asked.

  She turned back toward him and pointed to his stomach. “You carry a class-twelve deletion routine inside you,” she said, matter-of-factly. “It is a Gift for the Supervisor.”

  Alek felt his mouth drop open.

  “What?” Maya yelled as she ran over to Alek.

  “She’s crazy,” Alek said, holding his stomach. At least he really hoped that was the answer.

  Maya looked him in the eyes and held his arm. “She was right about my—” she stopped and glanced over toward Cloudhopper.” She can see inside of us,” she added, holding her own stomach.

  “I don’t care if she can read our minds,” Alek said. “She’s wrong. I don’t have a deletion bomb inside me.” He looked at Maya, and then Cloudhopper. “Do I?”

  “Volunteering for a suicide mission is one thing,” Cloudhopper said. “Being tricked into it is altogether different.”

  “There’s only one way to be sure,” Maya said, looking at Elsala. “Show him”

  Elsala stepped up to Alek and reached for his stomach. He backed away. “I’m not sure I want to do this,” he said.

  “It won’t hurt,” Maya said, remembering her own experience, “and it might finally answer the question of why Rebecca sent you in here.”

  “All right,” he said, taking a step toward Elsala.

  He watched as her hand became more transparent and then disappeared into his abdomen. He saw a cloud form around him, and then saw the deletion routine inside him. They had replaced one of his kidneys with the device. It was small, but he could somehow feel that it was very powerful.

  The cloud parted and he was again back in the company of Maya and the others. “She’s right,” he told them. “It’s a class-twelve deletion routine. Leconte must have added it to my Avatar when I was digitized.” Then he remembered something. “Lorena said she thought I was broadcasting—giving away my presence inside the Core. If I really am a Trojan horse—a gift meant for Ceejer—then it makes sense that she would make it easy to find me.”

  “If the thing inside you goes off,” Cloudhopper said, “it could take out an entire sector of memory, and everything—or everyone—inside it.”

  “What are we going to do?” Maya asked them both.

  Alek looked at her. “I know what I’m going to do,” he said. “Surrender.”

  He started toward the Rover when she grabbed his arm. “You’ll die, Alek—just like your father.”

  “I’m a lot healthier than he was,” he said, “I’m willing to bet that my heart can withstand the stress of sudden disconnection.” Then he looked at Herschel and Javid standing nearby. “Or, maybe I’m simply a program from Earth-Zero, or an unformatted Sentinel. Either way, I’m a walking bomb. I need to get away from all of you.”

  “If you really are a Trojan horse,” Cloudhopper said, “then you’re only at risk if you approach Ceejer. We will find a way to escape the machines up there and leave this area.”

  Alek turned to him. “Don’t you get it? This might be the answer. All I have to do is surrender and go meet Ceejer. When the bomb inside me blows up, Ceejer will be deleted and you and all of the hostages will be set free.”

  “You can’t just volunteer to kill yourself,” Maya yelled. She looked like she was on the verge of crying.

  “I don’t seem to have much choice,” he said as he turned and headed toward the Rover.

  He stepped through the side door and then into the pilot’s cabin. He was about to fire up the main drive when he paused. Was h
e making the right decision? It wasn’t as if he wanted to be the hero and die—it was just that he didn’t see any other options.

  He heard the door in the back hiss open and close. He turned around just as Maya climbed into the co-pilots chair.

  “You can’t go with me,” he protested.

  “And you can’t leave,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she said, staring out the front window.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he realized that his mouth was wide open. He closed it and then started to ask who the father was, but then realized that it was obvious. It was Roy Cloudhopper. Then another, more important question, came to mind.

  “Why did you volunteer to come into Cyberdrome, if you knew you were pregnant? You knew more than anyone how dangerous this mission could be.”

  “I didn’t know, Alek. I would never have come if I’d known.”

  “Then how?”

  “How do I know? It’s complicated.”

  He looked around them. “More complicated than this?”

  She looked out of the window and then crawled back into the rear cabin and sat down. Alek followed her back and kneeled beside her.

  “I tried to tell you the last time we were in this compartment,” she said. “I met Elsala inside the crashed Survey Vessel back inside the simulation,” she said. “She put her hand inside me, and showed me a fetus growing inside me.”

  “Cloudhopper is the father, I assume.”

  “No, idiot, you are.”

  His head suddenly felt light. “How—how is that possible?”

  “I was confused too,” she began, “but it’s the time difference. You just got here, but for me, it has been several weeks since we made love.”

  Alek felt his chest burning and he was having difficulty breathing. He stood and walked a few steps away from her. This isn’t happening, he said to himself. Maya was the love of his life back in college. He let her go only to save her from—from what? As he stood there on two strong legs, he couldn’t remember what he thought he was saving her from by leaving. Now she was back in his life and she was pregnant with his child. He was going to be a father.