by V Guy
“How long?” asked Sofia, her lips narrowing.
“A month, all steps included and completed.”
“And full forgetting?”
“Two hours at most,” said Malik. “You would choose your last memory, with everything from that point forward being removed.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow. “And the man who stole me?”
“You might never know, depending on when you chose to forget.”
“Then I choose forgetting,” she said, crossing her arms. “But only after the point of my arrival at the facility. I want to know who stole me.”
He considered her for a moment. “Seeing your memories will require time and mental contact. Does anyone else wish to forget?”
“What does remembering involve?” asked Jenna.
Malik explained the process he formulated overnight. Midway through a distributed outline, he stiffened.
“What is it?” asked Evelyn.
He scowled and turned away to consider the discovery. “Our agent has decided to finish the job.”
“It’s only one day following the theft,” she said, frowning. “There’s bound to be law enforcement everywhere.”
“There was only theft, and that’s been reported. The military departed and remains nearby, every security shift was called in, and a man of very obvious importance has arrived. The staff shows him deference.”
Evelyn straightened. “When can we expect our people to return?”
“The staff is having a big meeting,” said Malik. “After it’s over.”
***
The slaver’s two-hour planning session ended at ten o’clock, with the various division heads walking to their offices. Their leader, a white-headed bear of a man, left the building with an assistant to make arrangements. The session’s multiple discussions transitioned to different offices, and abundant security split as well, with two of the men passing through the security checkpoint and entering the security offices. Every discipline within the facility began inventories to determine what else was stolen. Security officers were numerous.
Helen and the commandos were undeterred. They easily slipped into the facility, compromised the surveillance, and disabled the interior guards. Helen and Li moved to the front lobby. Borislav neutralized surveillance. Bomani and Makaha positioned themselves near the main hall.
“I have surveillance contained,” reported Borislav in a whisper. “Alarms have been disabled.”
Helen was positioned before the director’s office and made a similar entry. Director Jarvis Jenson glanced up briefly, pondered the oddity for a moment, closed the door, then returned to an agitated conversation he was having through his comm.
That conversation was abruptly cut short, and he glanced down at the device in disbelief. “I thought I charged this thing.”
He would say no more. An electronic tranquilizer caught him in the neck and every muscle in his body froze. Helen withdrew a cylindrical device from her pack, synced it to a skull interface, and placed it on the man’s head. Once the mind box indicated it was in use, she injected him with a fast-acting poison. His life departed his frame, and the light on the device indicated where it went. She returned it to her pack and continued onward.
She locked his office upon exit and progressed to the next one. The security officers in the lobby, distracted by outside activity, failed to notice, and the executive assistant within this room was similarly preoccupied. An electronic tranquilizer dart, an interface, and poison later, and Helen was on the move.
This time the officers noticed. Helen and Li ensured it made no difference, depositing their bodies in the nearest office.
Helen considered the next victim to be disposable and immediately killed him. The woman in the nearby office held value, her demise came slowly, but she joined her dead coworkers nonetheless.
The action in the lobby prompted Bomani and Makaha to clear the main hall, neutralizing the five officers and stashing the bodies in security with Borislav’s assistance. Borislav entered network operations, captured one man and killed the rest, then moved to the implant techs in the southern hall. A rotating patrol officer saw an empty hallway, entered the back entrance to investigate, and was quickly felled.
Helen finished her transit through the second-floor offices, capturing three minds and killing six others without retrieval.
Borislav returned to cover Bomani and Makaha’s entrance into the facility’s service areas within the northern hall. A maintenance worker, who had been checking the guard bots, exited from the second floor and glanced around in confusion. Borislav found him.
The security bots on the second and third floors had drawn technicians for examination, and the focused men were quickly eliminated by Bomani and Makaha. The commandos entered the main hall to join their comrades after the halls were cleared.
“Bomb?” asked Helen.
“In place,” replied Borislav.
“Electronic tranquilizers?”
“All recovered. Housekeeping and the kitchen staff will awaken in ten minutes.”
“Pathfinder is here. Let’s go.”
The ship had been brought just beyond the facility’s protective shield, and the Rumbler’s return trip was brief. The lights brightened after their entry.
Helen immediately sprang from the hovercraft. “We need more brain boxes. We’re just below a hundred percent and no more.”
“Five were made last night,” said Malik, motioning to Arturo.
Helen watched the commando hurry to maintenance. “Then I need them, just in case we find additional targets. Are they set for confinement?”
Malik glanced toward the hatch. “They will soon be.”
Arturo made a quick return, the other commandos had exited the vehicle, and the remains of their campsite were unloaded. When the mind boxes were ready for departure, they were, too. The passage was darkened and soon the hovercraft was away.
“She’s gotten everyone she wanted,” said Evelyn, examining the devices’ labels. “Casualties?”
“Everyone intended, and none unintended. Some minor players, due to their placement, were missed. Larger players await.”
“How long?”
“Not long.”
They waited as he listened, alert for battle reports.
“The sleepers have awakened, the alarm has been raised, and a facility evacuation has been triggered.” Malik paused. A few minutes passed. “They’re clear. The primary facility has been annihilated by the first bomb. no secrets now.”
His delivery was unemotional; they nearly missed its significance.
“Two primary targets found and captured,” he said a moment later. “The rest of the visitors have been dispatched.”
Additional minutes of listening passed. “They’re clear. Secondary facility destroyed. They’re returning home.”
His audience was frozen and speechless.
“Clear the passage,” he said, motioning people from the entry. The area darkened and the ship lurched upward.
Malik’s visage was hard. “We’re leaving. Time to catch a ship.”
The Rumbler appeared from the darkness, and Helen emerged first, her focus as sharp now as it was during her previous entry.
“Two additional minds for a total of nine,” she said, handing him the pack. “Police and military units were inbound but missed the fireballs. The area was pounded pretty hard.” She glanced at the initiates in the passage and relaxed. “Boy, do I need a shower.”
“‘Pounded’ and ‘fireballs’?” asked Violet after Helen lay above.
“Shaped breach bombs,” replied Li, who removed his head piece and introduced himself. “I’ve grown soft. I’m also craving a shower.”
“It worked,” said Makaha, observing the surrounding women with satisfaction. A satisfied smile formed on his visage. “One hundred over one hundred. That’s the way we roll.”
The five commandos worked together to shut down the craft and stow their gear. Although able to communicate
silently, they chose to relate their stories aloud, and their conversation captured their guests’ attention. The women were slow to return to their previous thoughts well after the men departed.
“Were they slaves, too?” asked Ileana in wonder.
“Yes,” replied Evelyn. “And like you, it was their entire existence.”
***
Pathfinder rose beyond the bounds of Bedele’s atmosphere, skated to the system’s edge, and plunged into the substrate. The ship arrived at Raven four hours later and set a course for the Bedele channel. Once they arrived at the channel drop zone, the crew nestled the ship nearby and waited.
Half a day passed before the Intruder emerged from the channel. Piggybacking with another ship, the slavers’ cloaked exit went unnoticed by everyone except Pathfinder, whose sensors immediately registered its presence. James directed the ship above and slightly behind the concealed Intruder.
“Closer,” said Malik.
The gap narrowed between the two concealed ships in Raven’s quiet system. Malik concentrated, his coloring turning ashen.
Liola was on an auxiliary console, and he addressed her. “You have control of the Dr. Jekyll.
“The crew has been killed and the captain is immobilized,” he said to Helen. “Prepare to board through the ventral hatch. When you do, find and rescue the two women, download the ship’s logs, and capture the captain’s mind. I’ll signal when we are docked.”
She hurried out.
“You killed them?” asked James in surprise. “What if word of their deaths spread?”
“It won’t.” Malik accessed the navigational controls. “They dropped, traversed a channel, then entered the next system, all under cloak. No one besides the slavers knew they were here, and the slavers are dead.”
The gap between the ships narrowed. With a tractor beam firmly securing the ship, a docking tube extended from Pathfinder to the slaver vessel Dr. Jekyll. Once seals were deemed secure, the word was given.
Success was declared ten minutes later, and Evelyn followed Malik into the main passage to meet the new passengers.
Twin teenaged girls stepped from the lower deck, escorted by Helen and Li. Ileana and Nina comforted the mature Bedele Creative slaves and led them to the infirmary.
A touch of remorse struck Malik; he vividly remembered the two young girls he delivered to Bedele. “Looks like we have a full ship. Time to get to work.”
13: Contact
Day 684: Evaline, Pathfinder
Pathfinder returned to Evaline Sunday evening during a light rain. Malik disposed of Dr. Jekyll by matching shield frequencies and dropping it when his ship dropped. Once within the substrate, he released the craft to be obliterated, unseen by prying eyes.
He delayed the slaves’ rehabilitation until Newday morning, allowing Evelyn and the commandos time to plan and permitting the ship’s new occupants a chance to adjust. Violet and the four new institute women volunteered to help.
As of Sunday evening, most the crew had chosen to retire early, realizing the marathon that would begin the following day. One of them lingered; Malik was present when Helen donned her skull interface and entered the artificial reality of a mind chamber.
She approached him. “I’m now uncertain.”
“Of what?”
“Of forgetting. Whatever I might discover through the development process would be equally fake. The women from the institute have lived very real lives, but their existence has been similarly patterned and constructed.”
“They’ll need training.”
“And I don’t. I want the strength training, too.”
He nodded in agreement. “Did this weekend help?”
An unhappy expression touched her face. “The anger remains.”
“Would you like to know a secret?”
“Not the blackmail threat?”
Malik made a chuckle. “No, you already know that. Watch.”
Images and sounds appeared and processed before her, and he directed the output to an organized stack. Once the information was deposited, she made a gasp of surprise.
“Look familiar?” he asked.
Helen nodded in confusion. “I thought you removed it?”
Malik grinned. “I did, but Kroes will never know. I’ve been creating a life of yours for her to see.”
The column of information was densely packed and appeared solid to the touch, but with a movement of his mind, the upper levels of the data rose like one end of an expanding accordion. He scanned the compact information as the wider portion lowered like a wave. “What do you think?”
Helen’s mouth dropped open and her excitement spiked. “It’s all false, but it looks real!”
He returned his attention to the top of the stack, accessing the memories’ last minutes before entering the simulation. The last minute was raised and a marker appeared to lodge into the section. Certain he could make modifications throughout the week of memories, he continuously added markers. Although slow at first, the progression of memories accelerated upward, with additions made after every minute of recall. When the process was complete, the entire stack compressed to its original size. The markers disappeared.
“What did you do?”
“Time markers,” said Malik. “Every minute Kroes watches will be subconsciously totaled within her brain. Occasions when she watches a new section will also be recorded, to allow understanding of how much and what she chooses to see.”
“What if she doesn’t receive the data?”
“She will. It was her account that recovered your sensory data set. Considering how discretely she treats this arrangement, no one else is likely to know.”
“She’s not going to compromise her supposed spy.”
Malik smiled. “She will. Like your weekly purge, she won’t be able to resist.”
“How would Kroes know where to find you and relate the results?”
“You were on my nation’s domain when you first connected. She needed permission to enter my lands and retrieve it, permission you apparently had. She will have discovered me and sought me.”
“That’s chancy.”
“Mostly. She’s Central Security, has resources, and is a curious woman.”
“What will it gain you?”
“This is a mental place,” said Malik, waving a foreleg in an arc. “Xist is a networked mental place. The brain boxes with captured minds are local mental places. I am involved in an intensive mental process to reprogram twenty-three Creative slave initiates.”
Her eyes widened upon. “Are you quite serious?”
He smiled again. Two different sets of markers appeared at his side. He scrolled upward through her data until they were seeing her first, fabricated post-purge sensory capture. Malik critically viewed these areas, outlined a section, then chose from the new markers to fill it. This process continued until he was at the end of the information. He sighed, considered the magnitude of the task, then looked at her with hope. “Time to send it back.”
“What did you do this time?”
His sharp levity made a noticeable dent in the space’s boring sameness. “Pleasure and repulsion. There are places that will trigger pleasure in Kroes when the information is observed. The other places will cause irritation and impatience.”
Helen raised a curious eyebrow.
“I want to see if I can pattern what she watches. The sections of pleasure initially make her feel good and gradually maximize to a preset level. While remaining in these sections, an undercurrent of satisfaction forms. The repulsion works in a similar manner, except there are no limits to the displeasure. Also, when a repulsive section follows a pleasure section, the pleasure quickly fades. Pleasure after repulsion takes much longer to recover. Finally, the pleasure effects only work for the first viewing, while the repulsion endures.”
Her eyes brightened. “You could condition her.”
A mischievous smirk touched his visage. “I’ll try.”
Helen stared at the stack
of false perceptions. “How much difference will this make?”
“As much as possible. I will create my advantage.”
She paused and stared at the walls. “You should tell everyone. Some of them are worried, first about themselves and then about those who left. Life will soon become busy. Encouragement would help.”
He considered the suggestion then compressed the information into a familiar stone. After a moment of thought, the object was at its new drop site within Xist. “She’ll arrive soon.”
Helen smiled broadly as she considered the deception. “I should help. I’d hate for you to bungle the details after all that effort.”
***
Sofia Maris was another of the ship’s occupants who was awake, and her entry into the memory space was tentative. As with Helen, Malik explained how the chamber worked. After demonstrations of the space’s capabilities, she nodded affirmation for him to continue.
“I may see things you don’t want seen,” said Malik.
She set her jaw. “I don’t care. I want to find that man.”
He measured her determination. “Think of that night at the club. Focus on what you remember.”
Sofia consciously remembered little. Picture-like stills dominated most of her recollection, and only two sections of her memories resembled live images. The views faded along with her confidence and hopes.
Malik saw her spirits fall and offered encouragement. “Try again. This time recall when you were sitting at the table with your friends. Think only of that moment.”
The remembrance was spotty. He set a small, glowing sphere aloft. “Focus and try again.”
The image lingered.
“You’re fighting me,” he said. “We already know you recall little alone. Let me help.”
“But I feel trapped!”
Malik groaned and let the image fade. “This is necessary. How much control would you relinquish to find him? What’s it worth?”
She said nothing, but her body shook with nervousness.
“Make a decision. I will never find him without your assistance.”
Her fear was palpable.