Callisto Deception

by John Read

  “Oh well, that makes sense then,” Lise said.

  “So, what now?” I said. “I just told you that you aren’t real.”

  “I’ll just add that fact to my memory. Thank you, John.”

  “Lise, we’ve been imprisoned here, in this program, by a man named H3. He’s threatened to kill Marie if we don’t design a spaceship for his military—”

  “Kill Marie?” Lise said. “Then design the damn ship already!”

  “We will, at least, that’s the plan, but I need to get out of here, I need to save Marie. That means getting out of VR. Do you have any idea how to do that?”

  “As you say, I’m a Turing, I don’t know what I can do to help. But there is a manufacturing facility near the Ring’s wall. If you are designing a spaceship, that’s where you’ll want to do it.”

  “Thank you, Lise,” I said. “If you come up with any ideas, that’s where I’ll be.”

  32

  The others had already found the facility that Lise mentioned. I arrived to find my three friends designing the spacecraft on floor-to-ceiling holodisplays. Kevin had printed a frame so we’d have something to touch, but it looked like a school bus without the body, seats or engine. They stopped working when I showed up, and Amelia walked over and gave me a hug.

  “I found a Turing that knew Marie,” I said. “Unless the place is designed to mess with our heads, it validates H3’s story.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amelia said.

  “Her name was Lise, like Marie’s baby,” I said. “My guess it that Marie named the child after her.”

  “Did you tell her about Marie?” Amelia said.

  “I did, and I told her she was a Turing. I also asked if she could help us in any way. She said she didn’t think she could.”

  “I don’t think the Turings are going to be much help,” Avro said. “Not until we start developing the manufacturing process anyway. I’m just happy they’re staying out of the way.”

  Avro nodded to a panel with a 3D image of the blank frame. “She’s all yours, boss.” I started by programing in the orbital and gravitational characteristics. This would determine the size of the fuel tanks required. We’d even need to design the rocket engines from scratch.

  Kevin was designing the spacecraft’s body. He stood in front of his display, looking frustrated. “What’s going on, Kevin?” I said.

  Kevin said, “If I had my files, or access to Space-Net …”

  “Well, it’s a spaceship, so it doesn’t need to be shaped like anything. It can look like the lunar lander for all we care,” I said.

  Avro stepped out from behind a display. “No, that won’t do. This thing is a fighter,” he said. “It needs a cockpit with good visibility so the pilot can point the guns at the enemy.” Avro pointed with two fingers on each hand, as if aiming a set of aerial cannons.

  “If you want visibility, place the cockpit off the bow, like a Romulan Warbird,” I said.

  “Romulan?” Avro said.

  “You know, from Star Trek?” I said. Avro just shrugged. “Never mind.”

  “I think it needs to be like an A Wing,” Kevin said. “You have seen Star Wars, right?”

  “I think you’re having fun with this,” Amelia said, leaning out from behind her display.

  “Okay bomb expert, are you making any progress?” Kevin said.

  “I’ve been thinking about the targets, ships like our JJs, drones or massive transports. In a vacuum, all you need to do is punch a few holes and that’s a hit.”

  “Then just use whatever the JJ’s used,” I said.

  “The JJ’s primary weapon was a rail gun. The projectiles were flat disks ejected from a coil. But the rail guns are nuclear-powered. The fuel cells in your design won’t produce enough power.”

  “What’s your solution?” I said.

  “Bullets. We fill the chamber from the O2 tanks. I just need to figure out the caliber of the bullets used by the CDF.”

  “They looked like twenty cal,” Avro said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ve assumed,” Amelia said. “I’ve gone with that for now. I’ll leave the design open if we need to make a change.”

  “How are we going to test this thing?” Avro said. “Should we have Kevin print us a flight simulator?”

  “Flight simulator?” Kevin said. “We’re in a simulator. We’ll just move it to the airlock.”

  “That means we’ll need a vehicle to tow it with,” I said.

  “On it,” Avro said, and began working at an adjacent console. “There’s no shortage of tractors in the database.”

  There was a knock on one of the panel displays.

  We froze, and H3 walked in from around a corner. He paced about the factory floor, looking at our meager frame and at each display in turn.

  “What do you want now?” Avro said.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen and lady,” H3 said. “I wanted to confirm that you had accepted my offer. It looks like everything is in order here.”

  Avro gestured to the ship’s frame and to the design we’d mapped out on the displays. Kevin had sketched out an A Wing from Star Wars.

  “Very nice,” H3 said, looking closely at Kevin’s design. “Very original.” He walked over to Amelia’s console. “Interesting,” H3 said and then passed his wrist over the consul and swiped the weapon’s design onto his watch.

  “Impatient much?” Amelia said.

  “A gift for our military commander,” H3 said.

  We heard a knock, coming from H3’s avatar. “Duty calls,” he said, lifting his hand to his head. The avatar backed away from the console and walked out of the room.

  “Wait!” Amelia said, but once he was out of view, the avatar was gone.

  Marie walked into H3’s office with Commander Yamamoto. H3 set his headset in a drawer, closing it before standing to greet his guests.

  “Marie, Commander,” H3 said. Marie took a seat across the desk from H3 and took out her notepad. Yamamoto bowed and took the other seat.

  “I have something for you,” H3 said. “Something I’ve been working on.” H3 reached to his left wrist, and used a gesture to transfer a file to the commander.

  “A weapons system?” the commander said.

  “For use in a vacuum,” H3 said. “Just a little something I’ve been working on.”

  “Impressive,” said the commander, pulling a screen from his watch and inspecting the document. “I had no idea you had such a talent for computer aided design.”

  “Please, install this on the JJs you apprehended; to my knowledge the rail guns won’t work without the nuclear reactors.”

  “Very well, Mr. Representative,” Yamamoto said. “But there is something I need to request of you. It is my responsibility to ensure the defense of this colony. That includes gathering intelligence in any way I can.”

  “You want to talk to the prisoners,” H3 said. “I assume you asked Hoshi and she denied your request. Now, you’re coming to me.”

  The commander nodded. “Hoshi has been most unhelpful.”

  “Those men have been to Mars. There is nothing they know that I do not. If you wish to interrogate someone, you may interrogate me.”

  “Representative,” the officer said, “there are things that only a trained military officer will understand. I'm going to interrogate the prisoners, Mr. Representative. Letting you and Hoshi know is, simply, professional courtesy.” Yamamoto got up, bowed again, and turned to leave.

  “Excuse me, Marie, I have to talk some sense into the commander.” H3 followed him out.

  Marie was left alone in H3's office, and knew exactly what she needed to do. If I’m going to find answers, now’s my chance. She looked at his desk and reached into his drawer, pulling out the VR set. She placed the visor over her eyes and found herself in an augmented view of H3’s office.

  The glasses scanned her eyes, matching her profile from Cal-Net Social. The machine cross-referenced her profile, found her avatar in its database, and loaded it.
r />   Marie said, “Menu, select program, Calli.”

  The view of H3’s office disappeared as the system transitioned from AR to VR. Marie’s avatar materialized alone in the theatre.

  In reality, she stood, and pushed back H3’s chair to give her some room to move. The units sensed her hands and arms but, unlike during her time in Calli, there was no resistance.

  Marie leaned forward and her avatar began to walk. She straightened and it stopped. The movements Marie needed to use were subtle; directing her avatar was like riding a horse and directing it with body posture, weight shifts, and leg pressure, instead of by the reins.

  There were mirrors on the wall and Marie saw her reflection. Her avatar’s hair was shorter and had less grey. She felt as if she’d stepped into the past, and in a way, she had.

  She strolled out into the pavilion. It was either evening or morning in Calli, she couldn’t tell which, but several people wandered through the streets. Are these the prisoners? She walked up to a white man in a suit. He didn’t look like a prisoner. “Hello,” Marie said.

  “Can I help you?” the man said in an American accent.

  “I recognize you,” Marie said. “You were on the Klondike.”

  "You mean I am on the Klondike,” the man said. “And you're not?"

  "Oh my God,” Marie said. “You're a Turing computer."

  The man turned and walked away.

  Marie remembered. "Lise!" She ran to Lise's apartment and banged on the door, but Lise wasn't there.

  Back at the pavilion, Marie looked around again, muttering, “Where could she be?”

  Marie walked up to a middle-aged woman, asking her for the date and time.

  "Monday,” the women replied. “Five-fifteen."

  “Thanks,” Marie said. Lise must be on a run, she thought. Marie jogged down to the park and looked around. Several people were walking about. She saw her friend loping along one of the paths.

  "Lise!” Marie said, then remembered to keep her voice down. Her real body was in a government building, after all.

  Lise stopped. "Marie? Is that you? You were gone, oh my God! I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Lise hugged Marie’s avatar. "But you're a Turing," Marie said, sounding shocked.

  "So I've been told," Lise said.

  "Do you know anything about the prisoners they’re holding here?” Marie said. Lise nodded, opening her mouth to talk, but Marie interrupted. “Can you tell me about them? Have you talked to them?”

  "Yes, in fact, one of them is your husband," Lise said. Marie froze, her brain barely processing what she’d heard.

  “My husband?” Marie said. Is this some sort of Turing glitch?

  “Your husband, John.”

  "Lise, that doesn't make any sense."

  "Come, I'll show you. They’re in the factory designing a spacecraft of some sort.”

  “A spaceship,” Marie repeated. Fog seemed to fill her brain, and her mouth felt wooly when she spoke. How could John possibly be here?

  Lise explained, “H3 was looking for someone to design a spaceship for him. He was frustrated that no one in the colony knew how. We must hurry. John has something important to tell you, something you should discuss together.”

  Marie stumbled after Lise, her heart alternately speeding up with hope and slowing down with the dread that Lise was mistaken.

  They reached the factory and went inside, making their way to the assembly room. Two men, one Indian and another of medium complexion, stood together, unloading panels from a printer. The panels were curved, and looked like fenders on a car. They hung from a crane, which the men brought over to the spaceship Lise had mentioned.

  One frantic glance showed Marie that neither man was John. “I don’t see him,” she choked.

  “He must be here,” Lise said.

  “They’re ignoring us,” Marie said. “They believe everyone else in Calli is a Turing.”

  “Hey,” said a woman, who appeared to be working on some sort of gun. “Can we help you? Hey, I’m talking to you!” The woman got up and walked toward Marie.

  But Marie’s eyes were riveted elsewhere. Movement on the port side of the ship. A man’s body. Marie’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent shriek of recognition, shock, and joy. The man climbed out from under the ship, walking around it, inspecting it.

  In H3’s office, Marie’s body lurched with urgency. Her avatar walked forward painfully slowly, or so it seemed to Marie. She wanted to hurl herself into her husband’s arms; to be there! "Faster, dammit!" Marie urged. As her avatar got closer. Marie whispered as loudly as she dared, “John!"

  The port fuselage seemed to be fine; it had been slightly dented on the tow into the airlock, but we had printed a new component. My eyes drifted over the ship. So far, so good. Good enough to satisfy H3. And keep Marie and Branson alive. My heart gave that familiar squeeze of bittersweet joy when I thought of them. I was still trying to get used to the fact that they were here.

  There was movement from the corner of my eye, and I straightened up. Amelia was shouting at—a Turning? An avatar of—Marie? I opened my mouth to call her name but no sound came out. I leaped forward, feet slapping the floor hard, arms pumping. Finally, sound burst from me. "Oh my God, Marie!" I sprinted across the facility.

  We were a dozen feet apart when Marie stopped, her expression blank. I heard yelling. Suddenly she turned, heading back in the direction she’d come.

  “John,” Kevin yelled. “She's jacked out.”

  "No!" I cried. “Marie!”

  Marie's avatar dropped out of sight behind a wall. When I turned the corner, she was gone.

  The visor was ripped from her head, and Marie came face to face with H3.

  “What did you see?” H3 yelled. “What the hell did you see?”

  “I saw my husband!” Marie shrieked, her voice strained with emotion. “Why is my husband in Calli? Tell me he isn’t real! Tell me he’s not one of the prisoners! Tell me you’re not using me!”

  H3 leaned close, whispering in Marie’s ear, “Be very careful what you say from now on, Marie.”

  “You bastard!” she yelled, and began to cry, slamming his desk with her fist.

  H3 continued to whisper, "You say a word of this to anyone and you'll die. Tell anyone about what you just saw, and they will die.”

  Marie pushed H3 out of the way. She rushed out of the door, blinded by tears, her head spinning, and into the artificial sunlight. H3’s personal CDF bodyguards watched her impassively. She half expected them to stop her, but they didn’t. It was H3 who followed her, jogging to catch up.

  “Get away from me!” she screamed.

  He ignored this. “It’s not me who’ll do it, Marie,” he said as they descended the steps of the government house. “Hoshi has spies. I don’t know how many, two, maybe three, but they’re here, and they work for her.”

  "My God,” Marie said, turning to face H3. “You son of a bitch! The world still exists, doesn't it? We were fucking kidnapped! This is part of some massive deception!"

  H3’s composure didn’t waver. “There’s still a chance you can get out of this, live your life as if it never happened. I promise I won’t tell.”

  “You lied about everything. There is no Communist Alliance, not in space. My husband is in there, which means that …” Marie paused, “means he became an astronaut, that he came to rescue us! Why did you order the soldiers to attack them?”

  “Marie, this deception keeps us alive.”

  “This deception keeps you in power!” Marie said. “I demand to speak to my husband.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” H3 said.

  “The hell it’s not.” Marie started to run, leaving H3 alone on the street.

  She jogged toward the place where they’d first entered the colony, near the mudroom where Malcom and Huey had tried to contact the lunar base.

  Marie found Malcom working in the city’s utility building, “You,” she said fiercely, skewering
him with her glare.

  “Whatever it is, not now. We’ve just been ordered to start working on this defensive grid and an assembly line for some new type of spaceship, and I’ve got no time—”

  “It’s about that new ship,” Marie said, hoping to grasp his attention.

  “Do you know where they’re getting the designs for it?”

  “Yes,” Marie said.

  Malcom grabbed a recently printed coil of wire and walked out the door of the utility building, and into a newly constructed manufacturing facility on the Ring wall. Marie chased after him. Inside the building, workers, some in CDF uniforms, some in coveralls like Malcom’s, were busy setting up assembly lines.

  “I’m going to tell you something. Once I do, everything will change,” Marie said as she jogged to keep pace with Malcom’s stride.

  “Okay, what?” Malcom said, placing the coil on a table.

  Marie grabbed his arm, dragging him toward a long hallway that bordered the Ring. One side of the hall was lined with EVA equipment, spacesuits, tow bars and battery-operated tools. The other wall was lined with airlocks spaced equally apart.

  Marie made sure they were alone. “I’ve talked to my husband.”

  “What are you talking about? When did you get married?”

  “I didn’t just get married, my husband is from Earth, and he’s alive! Earth is fine! And I have proof. The prisoners aren’t from the Alliance. They’re from NASA.”

  “Shit! Marie, that is officially the most bat-shit crazy thing I’ve ever heard. What possible evidence could you have?”

  “You’re going to help break them out,” Marie said, still holding Malcom by the arm.

  “I don’t believe you,” Malcom said.

  Behind them, the sound of a gun cocking. “Believe her.”

  “Who are you?” Malcom said, turning to address a blond woman in a CDF jumpsuit. She tossed Marie a set of zip-tie handcuffs.

  “Put these on him. Get moving. Scream and I’ll shoot.” The mysterious woman led them down the hall. She pointed the silenced end of her pistol at Marie. “Tighten them.”