Callisto Deception

by John Read

  “Howard said four ships left Earth, but only three made it,” Kevin said. “What if only three ships left Earth?”

  “And they turned off the Turings,” I said. “Made it look like a disaster.”

  “The Klondike never existed,” Amelia said. We took a moment to let the realization sink in.

  “But they used the ruse to convince the population to create a baby boom, ensuring that any families on Callisto would be unable to return,” I said.

  “It’s kind of brilliant if you think about it,” Kevin added.

  “It’s sick!” Amelia said. “And Turing children? They created a being, Tanya, that thinks and feels, doesn’t know she’s a computer, and they gave her memories that say her family was killed in a nuclear war. Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty messed up.”

  “We may be able to use this to our advantage,” Avro said.

  “How’s that?” Kevin said. “We’re locked in here. It’s a closed system.”

  “These Turings know everyone who’s on Callisto,” Avro said.

  “If we ask around, we may be able to get new information,” I said.

  “Do you think the Doomsdayers are listening to us right now?” Amelia said. “Spying on us?”

  “Would we proceed any differently if they were?” I wondered.

  Amelia shrugged. “Who should we talk to first?”

  But before anyone could answer, Tanya came running.

  “Amelia!” she yelled. “A man came to see me right after you left. He said to ask you to go to the theatre and meet him there.”

  “Where’s the theater?” Amelia said.

  “Back by the fountain,” Tanya answered.

  Amelia looked at us. “I guess we’re going to the theater.”

  When we arrived back by the fountain, the girl pointed toward a row of doors that led into a fancy building across from the apartments.

  The theater was empty. We walked between row upon row of red chairs. In the front of the room, eight stairs led up to the stage. The screen behind the stage was blank.

  We stood near the stage, looking around. “This is strange,” I said. “Why would a Turing lead us here?”

  There was a clap, then another, and from behind a curtain walked H3. He was smiling, striding with smug confidence. Avro jumped up the stairs, throwing a punch at H3’s head. His head lurched backward under the impact, but the smile remained.

  Avro punched him in the gut twice then swung a right hook, and another punch to the gut. I ran onstage to join him. Amelia followed. H3’s smile remained, unaffected by the blows.

  Kevin stood at the top of the stairs. “He’s not wearing a resistance suit!” he said. “You may want to stand back.”

  Kevin’s warning came a moment too late. H3 turned to Avro, slugging him in the chest. Avro keeled over in pain. H3 turned to me, punching me in the face. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head down and into his knee. I stumbled backward, but H3 stepped forward, grabbed me by the belt, and threw me from the stage. I fell several feet, landing awkwardly on the chairs below.

  H3 turned again to Avro who was just getting back up.

  Amelia tried to hold H3 back, but he shook her off with ease, tossing her across the stage. She slid to a stop at the edge.

  I peeled myself off the chairs, my back throbbing from the impact, but no more so than from any pain I’d experienced during our training.

  H3 stopped in front of Avro, using a hand to brush imaginary dust off his shoulder. “If you’ve finished exercising, I thought maybe we could talk,” H3 said.

  “This makes no fucking sense,” Amelia said.

  “You’ve said that before,” H3 said.

  “Why the hell does everyone on this place listen to you?” she said.

  “Why wouldn’t they?” H3 said. “I’m a democratically elected official!”

  “You helped kidnap thousands of people!” she said. “Why the hell would you have them believe the world was destroyed?”

  “Think about it from my perspective,” H3 said. “A few conspiracy theories here, a sprinkle of money there, and poof, I go away for a while, show up here and an entire society is waiting for me.”

  “I think you’re taking too much credit,” Kevin said.

  “What about the other Doomsdayers, like Hoshi? How the hell did you get her to keep the conspiracy a secret?” Amelia said.

  “Hoshi designed this utopia, she’s proud of it, and she’ll do anything in her power to keep it as the society she’s envisioned. And, if you ask me, I kind of like it. And so does everyone else!”

  I climbed back onstage and stood beside Avro. “Why haven’t you killed us?” I said.

  “Oh, there’s nothing in the universe I’d love to do more!” H3 said. “You foiled my plans on Mars and I’ll be damned if you do it again on Callisto. But as I said, I’m just a democratically elected representative. Having soldiers kill in battle is one thing, but an execution? I’ve yet to do anything quite so bold.”

  “You’re still a murderer,” Amelia said.

  “Semantics, Amelia, Semantics. So, I’ll tell you what I want.” H3 paused, as if making sure we had his full attention. “I want a fleet of spaceships and a fully-integrated, defensive grid around this entire system.”

  “You have our JJs; what more do you want?” I said.

  “Oh, I have the JJs alright. But I’ve castrated them. The CDF is under the illusion that the spacecraft were stolen from me on Mars. I have my pilots training in them right now. But since I don’t need anyone escaping, we removed the JJ’s nuclear reactors. We’ll use them to power the defensive grid we’re about to build, that is, when I get permission from the council. The council will love my plan for nuclear-powered rail guns surrounding Callisto, preventing any ships from getting in. And, thanks to your gruesome and merciless attack on our fine colony, I’ll have all the support I need.”

  “A fleet of spaceships and a defensive grid?” Amelia said. “You really want to cover your ass.”

  “Here’s the thing. These people are stuck here. Even if they find out Earth is still around, they’re stuck here until they rebuilt the spaceships, fuel them, get them back in orbit, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. And, on top of that, a third of this colony is under the age of two; they’d never survive Earth’s gravity. It’s not going to happen. We’ve jammed all radio communication in and out of the Jovian system. Hoshi thinks that’s enough. But I disagree. I won’t let another convoy like yours land, and I won’t have anyone finding out the truth about me.”

  “Everything is always about you,” Amelia said.

  “What do you want from us, specifically?” I said.

  “You know how many aerospace engineers there are in this colony? None! We kidnapped thousands of able-bodied adults, a lot of great mechanics, but not one of them knows how to properly design a freaking spaceship.”

  “Then who built the convoy?” Kevin said.

  “You mean those off-the-shelf mining vessels? They stuck an inflatable module on top for a habitat. That was LEGO, Kevin. I need fighter craft, interceptors, everything those JJs are and more.”

  Kevin looked at us and shrugged. H3’s story was believable enough.

  “John, you were on the design team for the orbital ring, Destiny Colony, were you not? And Kevin, I know you’ve designed several aircraft. Avro is probably the best pilot in the solar system; who better to test a new spacecraft? And Amelia, you’re well versed in weapons systems, I’m sure you can lend a hand, too.”

  “Not sure we can help you …” I said. “Building weapons for our worst enemy.”

  The screen behind H3 came to life.

  “Here are the criteria. I want a single pilot, short range spacecraft, capable of achieving orbit of Callisto, but incapable of interplanetary flight. I don’t need my soldiers going AWOL. The spacecraft will be powered by hydrazine and fuel cells. No VR interfaces, good old stick and rudder.”

  “You really think we’re going to help you?” I asked.

 
; “Oh, I think you will. You see, if you help me design my spaceships, I won’t kill your wife and son.”

  I locked eyes with H3, my breathing on hold. Does he mean …? He can’t mean …? What the hell! H3 held my burning gaze, and let his statement sink in for a moment, but it didn’t make any sense. Marie and Branson were dead!

  “My wife? My son? What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “Your wife, Marie, is a lovely woman,” H3 said. “She’s here on Callisto.”

  I reeled back in shock, my heart thumping painfully.

  Behind H3, the specifications disappeared, replaced by a video of Marie on a run. She wore a bright blue windbreaker and track pants. Her curly hair was tied back in a bun. She used to always run early in the morning, before it got too hot.

  “It’s a fake,” I said. I was struggling to breathe, hating H3 more than ever. Deep down, I knew this wasn’t a deception, it was blackmail.

  “Let me tell you a story about your wife. She’s quite a brave woman. After the impact, a Doomsdayer named Hoshi rescued Marie and Branson on Highway One in Marin County, California. We targeted her, John, long before the Bradbury disaster. Marie was the world’s expert in population sustainability. Marie became the colony’s lead expert in genetic diversity. She used the Klondike disaster to inspire all of society into create a new generation.”

  “This is lunacy,” I said. My legs shook, and my knees gave way. I sank onto them.

  “Oh, there’s more. You see, Marie found me shortly after I landed on Callisto. I brought her into my home. See, here’s a picture of us together.” On the screen was a picture of Marie smiling with H3 on the steps of what looked like a government building.”

  “This is fucking insane,” Amelia said. “Why are you doing this to him?”

  H3 continued, “I was shaken up after my experience on Mars, but Marie not only convinced me to rejoin society, but became my personal assistant, helping me get elected as a representative for this fine colony.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I gasped. “Marie would never help you.”

  “And why not?” H3 said. “I’m a hero who tried to save Mars from the Alliance, and now I’m trying to save Callisto. How about this?” H3 went to the next slide; it was a video. Branson ran through the grass. He was so big now. He ran towards H3, H3 scooped him up, and then smiled at the camera.

  It was too much. I bent over my knees as if punched in the gut, and cried out like an animal in a trap. “I don’t believe it, I don’t believe it,” I said, my whole body shaking. Amelia walked over and put her hands on my shoulders.

  “Oh, but there’s so much more to tell you, John,” H3 said. “You see, everyone on Callisto has a duty to help grow the population, grow it to a point where it’s sustainable.” A knot of dread tightened in my stomach and I felt the rations I’d eaten churning. “You’re going to love the next slide. It’s family photo, of sorts.”

  I craned my neck upward, despite the pain. The photo on the screen was of Marie, holding a little girl of perhaps two.

  “I’d like you to meet Lise.”

  “No fucking way!” I yelled, and sprang from the floor to run towards H3. I hit him, punching him until my hands burned inside the resistor suit. His avatar swayed with each blow, but nothing I did would cause him any pain.

  Avro caught my shoulders and held me hard, pulling me away from the avatar. My friend’s voice barely penetrated the red haze that filled my brain. “It’s not his child, John. He hasn’t been here long enough.”

  “Design my spaceships,” H3 said. “You have one week.” I looked at the others, and realized they were watching me, assessing my reaction.

  Before we could say another word, H3 reached up to his face, removing the headset. His soulless avatar turned, went behind the curtain, and disappeared from existence.

  31

  We walked out of the theater into the pavilion. My legs felt far away, and my brain was numb and blank.

  “What do we do?” Amelia said.

  “What can we do?” Avro answered. “We build his ship. He’s trying to cover his ass. If we don’t build it, someone else eventually will.”

  “Kevin, can you sabotage the design?” Amelia said.

  Kevin shrugged. “There’s not much to sabotage that the workers won’t catch when they assemble it.”

  “I’m going for a walk,” I muttered. “I need to be alone for a while.”

  I left the pavilion, and headed toward the water. The breeze blew through the sails of the boats docked on shore, and ankle-high waves lapped at the rocks. I tried to clear my mind, concentrating on the sound of my footsteps on the boardwalk. Is Marie really alive? I asked myself. Was that really Branson? A powerful tide of hope flooded me, overpowering the hatred I felt for H3.

  The other people on the boardwalk looked as if they were doing the same thing as me, dwelling on things they didn’t want to accept. About a kilometer and a half from town, I stopped at a bench and sat down.

  A woman in jogging clothes sat beside me. She opened a bottle of water from a pouch on her belt and took a sip. She sat staring over the waves.

  “I can’t believe they’re gone,” she said. “I think they’re out there, somewhere. Most people don’t, but I do.”

  I didn’t answer, I just stared.

  “You must have lost someone,” the woman said. “I can tell you miss them. I lost someone, too.”

  I nodded, as if agreeing. Then I looked at the woman, who had tattoos on her arms. Words written in a script I didn’t recognize.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ll be on my way now,” she said, getting up and clipping her water bottle to her hip. “My name’s Lise. I’ll see you around.”

  “Wait,” I said. “What’s your name again?”

  She looked at me with skepticism, as if trying to decide if she knew me. “Lise,” she repeated.

  “Lise. Is that a common name?” I asked.

  “No, not really,” Lise said, sitting back down, and holding eye contact firmly. “Why?”

  “There is this kid, a baby girl, her name is Lise,” I said.

  “Is she on this spaceship?” Lise said.

  What the hell am I doing? I thought. I’m sharing an experience with a computer program that thinks it’s real. “Ah, no, she’s not,” I said.

  “She’s missing then, I’m so sorry,” Lise said.

  “No, I don’t think she’s missing. In fact, I’m not convinced she exists at all,” I said.

  “That’s unusual, not knowing if someone exists,” Lise said.

  “A lot of things today have been unusual,” I said. “For example, the people here, think …”

  Lise stood up, and turned to face me, as if all of a sudden I wasn’t who I’d said I was. “You’re not from the Klondike, are you?”

  “No,” I said, not thinking that there might be consequences for revealing who we were.

  “I arrived on a separate ship,” I said.

  “And you found us floating through space cut off from the others! Tell me what happened to the other ships? Are the people okay?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “The people in the other three ships are fine.”

  “Oh, I have so many questions!” Lise said with a smile.

  “Later,” I said. “I need to go.” I got up and began to walk away.

  Lise’s smile was replaced by a look of confusion. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “John,” I said over my shoulder. “John Orville.”

  “Wait,” Lise yelled. “By any chance is your wife’s name Marie?”

  I stopped. My gut wrenched and tears formed in my eyes. I turned and ran back toward Lise, grabbing her by the shoulders. “What do you know about Marie?”

  “She was my best friend,” Lise said. “We worked together at the Center for Genetic Diversity.”

  “You worked together?” I said. “Tell me everything!” Was this some elaborate scam or had H3 told the truth? I didn’t care; I’d let myse
lf bask in the illusions.

  “She was on the Mount Everest. A ship from Tibet,” Lise said. “Hoshi, a Doomsdayer, rescued her and Branson from California.”

  “You know Branson?” I said.

  “Only through Marie, I never went to the nursery,” Lise said.

  “The nursery,” I repeated, not sure I was asking a question.

  “The younger kids aren’t with us in VR,” Lise said. “We visit them in the nursery.”

  “Did Marie have a daughter?” I asked.

  “No, just Branson,” Lise said. “But she was willing to have another child. I promised to help her pick out a donor, but she wanted to wait.”

  “What’s today’s date?” I asked.

  Lise checked her watch. “It’s a Sunday, January fourteenth.”

  “What’s the year?”

  “That’s a silly question,” Lise said. “How do you not know the year?”

  “Just answer me, please.”

  “It’s 2072,” Lise said.

  “2072,” I whispered. “Shit, that’s three years ago.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind, yeah, 2072, right. Do you know about a man named H3, or Henry Allen?” I said.

  “No, doesn’t ring a bell,” Lise said.

  “A business man, he lived in New York. President of Red Planet Mining?”

  “Sounds familiar,” Lise said. “Was he a survivor?”

  “He was, ah, on Mars. The other ships are the Mount Everest, Victoria and Melbourne, right?”

  “Right,” Lise said.

  “Listen to me, no matter how strange this sounds,” I said. “Those ships have already arrived on Callisto.”

  “Impossible. There are months left before we arrive.”

  “They arrived almost three years ago,” I said, sensing fear in Lise’s eyes, and I wondered how her program would handle the paradox. “This program, the one you’re living in, it has been offline for years.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lise said.

  “That’s because you are part of the program; you are a Turing computer.” Then I remembered what Kevin had said about the reset button. I said, “Reset code four hundred and two.”