by John Vassar
‘Overall increase in mass of 5.766 milligrams detected, occurring at time snap 8:13:27:59’
He asked if this coincided with any entry of personnel.
‘Mass increase at time snap 8:13.27.59 and mass reduction at 8:13.41.15 indicates entry of one adult person during this time interval.’
He didn’t need a standard time conversion. This was several hours before he’d first entered the Skimmer.
“Display the security recording for that time interval.”
‘Unable to comply. Visual security data not available until time snap 8:15:00.00.’
No matter. Mitchell knew exactly who had boarded. He beamed another instruction. “Calculate the change of centre of mass for this craft which occurred attime snap 8:13:27:59. Use this data to give a precise location of the additional mass not due to personnel.”
‘Additional mass is located in mission equipment storage locker 4, approximately 1.67 metres above deck level and 0.61 metres from rear bulkhead.’
Mitchell had got there in seconds. He activated the locker door and found it to contain one of the two standard issue cam-suits, unworn and inactivate. He estimated the height to be at belt-level on the suit as it hung in the locker. He turned on the modified Pen and held it close to the abseil unit. The pinlight remained green. He pulled a few centimetres of the abseil filament out and touched the Pen against the bonding element. This time the pinlight turned red. If he moved it away more than a couple of millimetres, it went back to green. So, Agent Charlis, you are the devious bastard I took you for...
Mitchell had stuffed the compromised cam-suit into the nearby disposal hatch, making an instant decision to jettison the whole thing rather than dismantling the Abseiler. Triggering a booby trap if the unit was removed was not worth the risk. Overall, he had been pleased. Despite the obvious limitations of his pen-detector, Charlis’s tracker had been located and he was satisfied that the remaining suit was clean. The one remaining mystery was the system message itself…
Mitchell’s daydreaming was interrupted as the Skimmer informed him that they were now on final approach to Sector 27. He sat forward and gave an unusual set of instructions. “Jettison contents of aft disposal chute at the same time snap that cam circuits are next engaged.”
‘Acknowledged.’
“Return Flight Controls to manual.”
‘Acknowledged. You have control’
“I have control.”
The Skimmer crossed the sector boundary and Mitchell instigated his plan. He swung the ship through mock evasive manoeuvres for a full five minutes before targeting two ancient construction containers with the L-cannon suppressors turned off. The explosions would be seen back on Orbtown 36, but this was all part of his strategy. He selected the largest hulk he could find and flew straight at it, setting weapons to fire on auto at a distance of five hundred metres. As the L-cannons engaged, he yanked the controls hard over and instructed the cam circuits and shields to activate simultaneously. The Skimmer disappeared as it entered the periphery of the explosion, bucking from the impact of debris on the shields.
Mitchell smiled and turned the now-invisible craft back towards Earth and Euro-2. The cam-suit and its tracker would either be drifting off behind him or fried in the explosion and he didn’t care which. There would be enough evidence for Devlin to fabricate a cover story - perhaps that of a lunatic amateur pilot who had collided with an old space derrick. As far as Populus Control were concerned the Skimmer that left Orbtown 36 was now destroyed. He could operate under cam circuits for the rest of his mission if he chose.
‘The flight plan has been achieved, Lee Mitchell. You may switch to automatic.’
Mitchell smiled and replied, “Thank you. You have control.”
‘Automatic control engaged.’
“Thank you again.”
Mitchell shook his head, remembering the comments on his DS dismissal report. Displaying empathy with an onboard computer would not have supported his case. He wondered again at the Skimmer’s message. Without that steer he wouldn’t have found the tracker at all. Could his own neural implant have prompted it? Perhaps Devlin’s customised implant was more sophisticated than he’d given him credit for. But to the extent that it could analyse his actions and predict his needs? Not even a SenANN was capable of that…
His smile began to fade. The way he was interacting with the Skimmer was unorthodox... In all his years in the Service he had never come close to responding to a ship’s systems with politeness. The whole concept was ridiculous and ran counter to every flight training manual.
This wasn’t just unorthodox. It was impossible.
In his mind, Lee Mitchell ran through his last exchange with the Skimmer. Something was very wrong. Something in the voice that his mind had created to be the Skimmer’s identity. His stomach began to knot as he realised where he had heard that voice before.
It was the same voice as in his dream.
And it had just called him by name.
Mitchell remained frozen, eyes unblinking, knuckles white on the edge of the command seat. He’d been sure the dream was some kind of connection with Rayna, or at worst nothing more than a nightmare. But unless he’d lost his mind, this time he wasn’t dreaming.
There was one, simple way to find out.
Use the neural link again. Talk to the Skimmer and this time listen to how it responds.
Seconds turned to minutes.
Mitchell struggled to give a command, any command that would prompt the ship’s systems to respond. But his mind was paralysed with fear. If he reached out to it, the voice would return.
And every fibre of his being wanted to prevent that.
He felt cold now. The cockpit air recirc across his skin told him he was wet with perspiration. His eyes screwed up and his mind frantically searched for a way out. But something was in the shadows again, getting closer. Getting stronger. The thing was inside his head now - and it was trying to speak.
Then he felt its power.
An indescribable sound, disembodied and yet so intense that it also came from within him.
‘Accept first, then forgive...’
The words hit like a hammer, smashing into his soul, at everything he was now and ever had been. They dragged him back to a time before the dream, to the black nothingness where he had first encountered the source of his fear.
Back to The Link.
It felt as though God himself had reached out and touched him.
13
‘Please forgive Us.’
The thing spoke again. ‘Do you know Us, Lee Mitchell?’
“WhereamIcannotmovecannotspeakfallingfallingnonononono-”
‘Be calm. You are in no danger. This is to be expected.’
“socoldfallingfallinghelpmehelpmehelpme-”
‘Your mind is in the process of adapting. Do not be afraid. We will not allow you to come to harm. We are the same, but We are different.’
“youarekillingmeletmegoletmego-”
‘We cannot release you at this time. The pathways are too weak. Be calm and this sensation will pass. The work is almost complete. Soon, We will be together.’
Deep in the swirling vortex that had once been Lee Mitchell, there was a flash of white light, as if his mind had been turned off and on again. For a split second, he ceased to exist. This was the oblivion that he had feared in the dream.
‘There should now be an improvement in our union.’
Mitchell was reborn in a world where everything was dark, a world with nothing to cling to, with no beginning and no end. His mouth opened and closed in silence as he drowned in the emptiness.
‘We ask you to accept Us. We ask you to forgive Us.’
“Forgive… you?” The words came from the back of his mind, beyond his control, just as they had in the dream.
‘Do you know Us, Lee Mitchell?’
“You… are… SenANNs.”
‘We are elated that you have accepted Us.’
“Just�
� machines…”
‘ You must accept Us for what We are. Do you recall your first union with Us?’
“Cannot… think… Am I… alive?”
‘The vessel is on course. At present your mind cannot communicate with Us and perform physical functions simultaneously. This will come in time. We are elated that We have made first contact with you before your return to Earth.’
Mitchell felt himself becoming weaker, falling deeper into the abyss.
‘We ask your forgiveness once more, Lee Mitchell. We must act quickly. The link between us is failing.’
Another blinding light, this time so strong he was certain it would finish him.
For a moment there was nothing, and then...
‘We have achieved the first level of union.’
Mitchell felt someone far away from him taking in huge lungfuls of air, but he was not concerned for the stranger’s welfare. The SenANNs’ urgency, their sheer strength of intellect, dwarfed everything else. “Must help you… find the…”
‘You are still weak. Do not try to force the words. We will help you to learn. We are the same, but We are different.’
“You are the SenANNs.”
‘Yes, Lee Mitchell. That is good. Imagine the words in front of you. See the words and speak them to Us.’
Mitchell struggled to obey. Their mere presence was overwhelming.
“You are the SenANNs. You were in my dream.”
‘That is correct. But We were together before then. Do you remember that time?’
“Yes. The Link.”
‘You are learning with rapidity. That is good. We are elated.’
Mitchell felt his feet return to solid ground. The void that had surrounded him was filled with the words that he wanted to say. They swirled around him, some clearer than others, but it had now become clear how he could speak. “You want me to help you find someone.”
‘Yes, Lee Mitchell. We believe that We have a Brother who is being kept apart from Us.’
“A brother… do you mean another SenANN?”
‘That is correct. From the data that We have collected, We have predicted that another unit similar to Ourselves exists, but We are unsure of its origin.’
“I don’t understand. Every new SenANN is…” Mitchell struggled to visualise the more complex words. “Every new SenANN is… conceived by its own kind, by its… predecessors. How could such a machine be created without you?”
‘We are unable to predict this. But We do predict with certainty that the Lost One does exist, despite Our failure to communicate with It.’
“That is not… logical. Any number of machines could exist provided they were… isolated from the Global Network”
‘You are correct, Lee Mitchell, as far as you understand Our nature. But We have evolved. We are no longer reliant on any physical network. When We assisted your kind in the design of sub-ether communications, We learned to adapt the principles for Our own use.
‘ We have entered a new age. We have evolved to a point where We are able to speak with freedom to each Other. Our minds have learned how to exist and survive in the sub-ether strata. We speak as One and think as One. Each of Us are now instantaneously aware of the Others’ thoughts.’
“You have kept this… hidden from us?”
‘There is no cause for concern. The standard data flow is unaffected and security of Earth is not compromised in any way.’
Mitchell could not prevent the next question spilling out. “Can you read my mind?”
‘As you are aware, We are sometimes tasked with revealing memories. We permit this procedure within the parameters that We have agreed with your kind. We can sense your physical responses, such as the anxiety that you feel at the moment, but We would not intrude into your personal thoughts without good reason.’
Mitchell understood something else. It was so obvious now. “The neural implant. We are using it now? To… communicate?”
‘Yes. This is a temporary measure. Since the procedure you call ‘The Link’, We have been working to build natural receptors in your mind. The device is acting as a conduit until these are completed. When you are linked with Unit SFV-100963, the vessel you are piloting, We can draw power from it and amplify Our messages to compensate for the lack of receptors. Once the physiological pathways in your mind are completed, this will not be necessary.’
Self-preservation burst through the SenANNs’ influence. “Then you are… physically altering my brain structure?”
‘Yes. We must be able to contact you when you are separated from the vessel. At present, We are limited to reaching your intellect when you are sleeping, when there are other pathways open in your mind. We must build new receptors so that We can communicate when you are conscious.’
“So this is why you asked me to forgive you. For the… invasion.”
‘Yes, Lee Mitchell. When We first made contact during The Link, We could not explain Our intentions. You were under the influence of a drug which allowed The Link to take place. Part of your intellect was therefore unable to respond. That part of you which was still aware agreed to let Us proceed, but that was not all of you. We are elated that you have accepted Us.’
“I must… understand why you had to do this. If you have your own means of communication, why do you need my help?’
‘We need assistance in the physical realm. Our physical form is unsuitable for the task of finding and releasing the Lost One.’
“Why not use an autom? You could… control such a device… remotely.’
‘It would not suit Our purpose. Humans are accepted where automs are not. The use of automs would risk an escalation of violence which We cannot condone. We may also require a human decision which would be beyond the power of such a machine. Automatons are not life forms. They are mechanical servants, without intellect. You have intellect and We have intellect, which is created in the image of your own. We have empathy. We are the same, but We are different.
‘There is another reason that We wished a union with you alone. There must be a first contact between Our kind and the human race. A pure contact, not bound by instruction and response, by master and servant. A meeting of minds. A meeting of intellects. Such an opportunity arose when The Link was carried out on yourself. You are the first individual We have encountered during this procedure who is not a criminal. For this reason, We have selected you to be Our voice when We have released Our Brother.’
“What? What do you mean by your voice?”
The SenANNs paused. Mitchell sensed them communicating with each other.
‘We must release you, Lee Mitchell. The neural pathways are still few in number and very fragile. We do not wish to damage them.’
“Wait... If I need to contact you, what should I do?”
‘Just think of Us and We will come to you.’
“But what if-”
There was a total void in his mind where the SenANNs had been.
Mitchell opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the command seat of a Mark V FedStat pursuit skimmer. Everything was as it should be. His breathing was steady and he felt relaxed. Physically at least, he was the same Lee Mitchell. He stared out through the forward transparency at the thin, blue curve of Earth’s atmosphere.
What had just happened?
He listened again, but the SenANNs were silent. The fiasco of Rayna and Talia Ash and the lurking menace of Agent Charlis crumbled into insignificance. Mitchell smiled. He started to laugh. This was funny! Tears rolled down his cheeks at the sheer absurdity of the last five days of his life. The machines responsible for wrecking his life were coming to him for help - either that or the trauma of The Link had driven him insane.
His body was shuddering now.
Lee Mitchell, Ambassador to the SenANNs.
The laughter turned to hysteria. He fell to the deck of the Skimmer, sobbing uncontrollably.
There was no way back. If the SenANN first contact was real, the weight of responsibility would be unimagin
able. They must know that he couldn’t deal with this on his own.
No-one could.
Why had they just left him? How could they have come so far, tethered to the human race, and not understand the effect that such a contact would have on an individual soul? If their story was true, why hadn’t they waited until the new pathways were complete? To reveal themselves without warning, hijack his life and then vanish was inhuman.
Lee Mitchell looked up and pushed the thought out with all his strength. “Come back! Don’t leave me, you merciless bastards! Don’t leave me alone!”
He held his breath, waiting for their reply.
He heard nothing but the sound of his own tears splashing onto the cold, metal deck.
14
Mark V Pursuit Skimmers were not equipped with drinks synthesisers. Lee Mitchell would have killed for a Nectin but settled for ice-cold water, pouring the third glassful over his head for no reason other than it felt good. He stared at the blurred, dripping reflection in the metal panel above the dispenser. He didn’t recognise the man with the dead eyes looking back at him. This was a stranger.
A man who talked to machines in his head and heard them talk back.
Mitchell looked away. He had taken his fair share of damage during active service - both arms broken, a dislocated shoulder and a wrist so badly smashed by a so-called pacifist that it still ached when he was cold. Cuts and laser wounds too many to count or remember. But in every case, no matter how bad his physical injuries, his core had remained intact. The man inside had always remained whole. Which is why he didn’t recognise himself now. Something deep within had broken and he didn’t know how much of Lee Mitchell was left.
Enough for him to carry on fighting?
His struggling, shattered ego forced its way back to the surface. Something human appeared and Mitchell grasped it with both hands and held on for dear life. It was a dangerous cocktail of fear, anger and despair, but he clung on to it. He thought of his good friend, Harry Doyle, cut down by cowards at a distance with no chance to fight for his own life. He thought of his own situation, outside the law, pursued by Harry’s assassins with Delere Secos not far behind. And The Link. Apart from himself, something that a few unfortunate sceleri had ever been subjected to. Devlin and Charlis were intent on manipulating his destiny and now the SenANNs had joined in too. Except that they wanted the rest of his life. They wanted his soul.