“I did not scream,” Duane argued as Gray forced a cup of laced tea into his hand. “Nor did I faint. I was understandably shocked to see you, and all other functions had to be rerouted to my brain.”
“You did scream, Duane,” Adri replied with a good-natured snicker. “And then you turned so white your skin was nearly my color.”
Duane gulped down a large portion of the tea. “Well, what do you expect? Danwe, L.C., you were supposed to be dead!”
“Well, I'm not. And I'm not a lieutenant commander anymore. You're going to have to get used to calling me captain now.”
“Captain? Danwe, you work fast!”
“And getting faster. So are you going to be my chief engineer?”
Duane rubbed his hands through his short crop of blue-black hair, his eyes huge. “Danwe, did I fall asleep and wake up in an alternate universe? First you're not dead, then you're promoted to captain, and now you want me to be your chief engineer?”
“That about sums it up,” Adri leaned back in the one chair in Duane's quarters that didn't have clothes dumped on it. “You in?”
“Danwe, yes!” Duane leaped up from the side of the bed and nearly tackled her to the floor in his enthusiasm. “I am your chief engineer, ma'am! This has to rank as the best day of my entire life!”
Duane started babbling in his native language and hugged her too tightly to breathe, so Gray stepped in. “We'll be glad to have you onboard.” Prying the paranthian's arms off of Adri, he led him back to the bed.
“When you're feeling sober enough to walk, head over to Carter's house. That's where I'm staying for now,” Adri said. “Gray and I have a few more stops to make before calling it a day.”
“Great, fantastic, yes, I'll see you there once I've convinced myself that this isn't a dream.”
Adri pulled a holoboard out of the pile of junk that littered Duane's dresser. She wrote a quick note, and then set it down beside him. “That ought to help. If we don't see you by tomorrow at 0700, we'll assume that you don't want to join in.”
“What happens at 0700?” Duane asked, following Adri and Gray out the door and into the barracks compound.
“We're inspecting the ship. You'll need to be there to get a good look at the engines.”
Duane looked as though he were about to break free of the planet's gravity. “Yes, ma'am!”
“So what time will he get there?” Gray asked as he and Adri left the compound a few minutes later.
“He'll show up around 2000 tonight,” Adri replied with a grin. It had been good to see Duane. As strange as it sounded, it was also good to see that she had been missed. “I figure that Blair would make a good ship's doctor,” she said, changing the topic.
“Are you sure you want him aboard?” Gray asked.
“Well, I can't imagine him letting me traipse off with my special abilities while he still thinks I can't control them, so we might as well put him to work.”
“Hmm,”
Adri shot a glance at Gray in confusion. “What's wrong with Blair?”
“Nothing.”
Still jealous? Adri pondered that possibility for a moment, then shoved it aside. If Gray was jealous of Blair for some weird reason, that was his problem.
“Adri, did you have anything planned for the rest of this afternoon? You've only been on Halieth for two days. Any errands you need to run?” Gray inquired. They were now standing outside of HQ. The sun was shining, but clouds on the horizon hinted of another electrical storm.
“Not really. I do need to go over the lists of prospective staff members, but that's not pressing. Why?”
“I need to make a stop. I got a message from Floyd Tarkubunji, the man who's repairing the humacom I bought. He said that he's finished, and that I can come pick him up.”
Floyd disengaged the viewscreen and made his way out of the study. Absently, he rubbed his temple. His mind felt a little more engaged lately, which relieved him, and was currently busy working out a problem.
Escape.
He found his sister in their father's old workroom, wearing one of their mother's old day dressed in soft pink. The workroom was well lit, but cramped. Shelves and tables cluttered the room, each filled to bursting with schematic boards, loose wiring, welding lasers, and the odds and ends of humacom construction. In a roughly cleared space close to the door were stored the humacoms that WCRTL had returned to the estate after investigation. Of the twelve humacoms that had previously inhabited the Tarkubunji mansion, only three had been returned. Freya was standing over the smallest crate, her hand resting on the open lid. “It wounds my heart to see her like this.” she sighed.
Floyd looked down into the crate at the child-sized humacom inside. It's pale hair and facial features bore an uncanny resemblance to the two Tarkubunjis. The stillness made him think that the little girl was dead and in a coffin. “It hurts me too.”
Freya moved around to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You could always reactivate her,”
“I would have to reboot her whole system. The inspectors did a full memory search and wipe. She won't remember anything before activation.”
His sister made a sorrowing sigh, hugging him tight. It was comforting to know that she, at least, understood his pain. They stood together over the body of a childhood friend. At last Freya said, “When are you meeting the soldier?”
“Lieutenant Grayson just got back to me. He's on his way.”
“That's good,”
Floyd gave her a puzzled look. “Why do you say that?”
“I have a good premonition about him.”
The Tarkubunji estate was impressive. Even after passing through a security screening by the established system, both Adri and Gray were also subjected to a suspicious once over by an Army sergeant. The quarrelsome man fondled his twin stream ATF rifle as though his entire hand was itchy. Harboring the typical aura of superiority that most Advance Force troops felt towards the Army, Adri was pleased to crush his attitude with her new title. Once they were though the gate, it was still a two mile drive until they reached the main house.
“This place rivals Carter's,” she remarked after several long minutes of staring out the window at the impressive natural scenery. Carter had leant them one of his vehicles, a sleek silver sports cruiser that hovered low to the ground. It had probably cost more than Adri had spent on the Kobanes.
“Carter told me that their parents both prowled in the same social circles,” Gray replied. “I guess the Tarkubunjis have been humacom designers since the conception of the idea. The last two generations have been making big money working for a government sponsored institute. There was a big deal when the father of the current family committed suicide in his lab; and the humacom institution as a whole has taken a beating with the personality recall that's going on.”
Adri studied his ultra-serious profile for a moment. “The wealth and splendor making you nervous, Vice Captain?” she teased.
He grinned. “Perhaps a little. I grew up in the country, and I've never been much of a city dweller. But I am interested in the latest humacom dealings.”
“Yeah. I read about in on the shuttle from Kieve. A mass recall doesn't sound like a solid answer to the problem.”
Gray nodded, glancing away from the cruiser's controls to gauge her face. “No, it doesn't. When I first heard about it, it made me think…”
“Think what?” Adri asked when Gray didn't continue.
Her companion replied flatly, “Genocide.”
Adri was silent for the rest of the short drive. She was still brooding when Gray stopped the cruiser in front of the mansion's main entrance. Following Gray, she walked up the elegant flight of stairs and waited for Gray's buzz to be answered. Adri was still lost in thought when the door finally slid open to reveal a young woman in a long dress, with long golden hair.
She looked up absently, and for one curious second, thought she saw wings fanning out from the young woman's back. When she blinked, they were gone. Adri d
idn't have time to process the phenomenon, because the woman stared at her and gave a shrill cry of surprise.
Freya felt as though she had been stabbed through the stomach by shock! All of the strange events of the past months tumbled through her mind like clattering dice, resulting in the woman who squinted in vague curiosity at her. The premonition she had felt earlier that morning suddenly became clear.
Ayane had been right. Veranda had awoken.
And was currently occupying her doorstep.
Who really understands the workings of the universe? The longer I live in it, the more I realize I don't understand. The logic it follows leaves mortal logic at a constant loss. I am grateful for it. How else could I be allowed to have a second chance with the woman I love? Mortal logic dictated that she was dead, and I believed it. Now she is back, and I am happy to toss logic aside and embrace her return.
Does that make me crazy? I don't think so, and I am sure my grandmother would agree. After all, she was a woman deeply aware of all that went on, not on a physical plane, but on something deeper. “Don't think knowledge holds the keys to everything,” she said to me once. “Or you may end up suspicious of the best things of your life.” Seeing the way my life has turned, she was dead on. I often wonder what I would be like if I had not spent the majority of my life with her.
I suppose I am once more following her advice. I am again at my beloved's side. Instead of questioning the layers of strange mystery and mysticism that shroud her return from the dead, I am simply in awe.
Not that I am completely ignoring it. The coincidence of this whole series of events is…staggering. Coincidence doesn't even begin to cover it. Adri's destiny has burst upon her, and she is understandably shell shocked. So if all this is fate, then what is my role?
There is something going on. Something that she is either not telling me, or doesn't realize herself.
She knows. What am I thinking? Of course she is aware, but she isn't talking. But does she accept? Ah, there is the crux of the matter. She knows something, doesn't want to accept it, and hasn't come to terms that she is destined for something important.
My dear, lovely Adri, I know what my role in life is.
To love you.
To be your friend and confidant.
To be your trusted councilor, vice captain and husband.
To get you to accept your own fate.
And to someday listen to the words I desperately need you to say.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Hello, is Dr. Floyd Tarkubunji available? He's expecting me,” Gray spoke into the strange vacuum of silence that had fallen since the young woman opened the door. Both she and Adri were engaged in a staring contest; the woman with astonishment, Adri with perplexity. Amused rather than annoyed, he tried again. “I believe he fixed my humacom for me.”
Gray surmised that they would have stood just where they were for the rest of the day if Floyd Tarkubunji had not appeared at that moment. “Hello, doctor, it's good to see you again.”
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” Floyd replied, his gaze focused on the young woman still staring at Adri. Floyd frowned and nudged her gently. “Freya?”
The woman snapped out of her trance and turned to Gray. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Grayson,” she said, “I'm terribly sorry about the welcome. I was merely…sidetracked. I am Freya Tarkubunji, Floyd's sister.”
“Hmph,” Adri muttered.
With another confused glance at Freya, Floyd turned back to Gray. “Your humacom is ready for transport, but there are a few things we need to discuss before you allow him to wake from his emergency stasis mode. Why don't you come in?”
Because Freya was still giving Adri an odd look, Gray supplied an introduction. “This is Captain Adrienne Rael, by the way. She was recently promoted and has just begun collecting her crew,”
“That's wonderful,” Freya said, beaming at Adri as they entered the main hallway of the mansion. “When were you promoted, Captain?”
“This morning,” Adri replied shortly. “And Grayson's not a lieutenant anymore. As of this morning, he's my vice captain,”
“Congratulations, Vice Captain.” Freya looked dazed. Adri continued to puzzle over the woman's intense stares that were aimed at her. “If you have only just been promoted, then when must you head out, Captain?”
It was a question that she normally wouldn't have answered, but she found herself saying, “In two weeks.”
Gray cast her an astonished look, but made no comment.
“So soon,” Freya's expression was inscrutable.
Floyd gestured them into the wide living room, which had two story windows facing the mansion's elaborate gardens. The afternoon sun shone brightly down on the whole scene. “Please have a seat,” he said.
Adri sat down beside Gray on a wide sofa. She then took the time to get a good look at their host. He was young, she surmised, about the age of herself and Gray. He was an average height, with wheat blond hair, hazel eyes and glasses. However, the shadows under his eyes, the pallor of his fair skin, and way he kept rubbing his head all indicated that he was ill, and had been for some time. The way his clothes sagged was another indication. Before he began talking, he removed his glasses and cleaned them absently on his white lab jacket. Adri wondered why he just didn't bother with eye correction treatment instead of wearing the archaic things, but pushed the thought aside.
“First of all, I can tell you that Jericho's chassis was easy to repair, mostly cosmetic work. The damage in the chest cavity was a little tougher, but I was able to repair most of it, and replaced what I couldn't with some of my own equipment.”
“What about the OS?” Gray asked. “The chief technician on the Damacene said it was beyond repair.”
Floyd leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “The damage to the cranium was very severe,” he agreed. “Even I could not repair it completely.”
“So Jericho is still inoperable?” Gray demanded. He felt crushed, like a life or death surgery had gone wrong and the patient was lost.
“No, not completely,” Floyd replied.
“What do you mean?” Adri asked. “If the OS doesn't work, the humacom doesn't work, right?”
“Correct,” Floyd agreed. “But in the case of Jericho, his OS is still functional, except for one area in his logic/protocol core. The damage there was so extensive, that any attempts at repair would damage Jericho's memory and primary sensors.”
“How about his personality?” Gray wanted to know.
“His personality program was not damaged,” Floyd replied, with an ironic glint in his eyes. “Why?”
“I'm glad. His personality was why I wanted to fix him. So what you're saying is that Jericho can operate, but not completely?”
Floyd shook his head. “No, Jericho can operate with the same functionality of any other humacom, but due to the damage in the logic/ protocol core, his thought processes and actions could be…erratic.”
“Dangerously?” Gray queried.
Floyd shifted in his seat. “I don't know. Personality and independent learning programs factor into the logic processing system that humacoms develop after they are booted. Therefore it depends on what Jericho has learned as well as how he was programmed to understand how his logic has developed, then take into account…”
“It's just like a person who has extensive brain damage,” Freya jumped in when Floyd trailed off. “No one is really sure just how they will act, what the damage did to the person's thought process. What my brother is trying to say is that Jericho's personality and independent learning programs will weigh heavily in how he is going to think and act. But ultimately, we just don't know what the damage is going to affect.”
“So what do you advise?” Adri interjected.
Floyd rose from his seat. “Just keep an eye on him. If his logic or protocol proves to be a serious problem, I can always try to write a backup program to help correct the error. It's the best I can do without a real knowledge of what
will happen.”
Gray got up as well. “Thank you for your efforts, Dr. Tarkubunji.”
“You are welcome. In truth, it was the most relaxing thing I've done in a long time.”
With a little maneuvering, the four of them managed to boost the transport crate that stored Jericho into the back of the cruiser that Adri had borrowed from Carter. It was a tight fit, edging over the backseat, bumping against the front seats and blocking the RearView monitor. Yet since it was only the two of them riding, Gray was sure that wouldn't be a problem.
“Thank you again,” he said to Floyd after he and Adri had slammed the rear door closed.
Floyd nodded. “Be sure to-”
“Something's wrong,” Freya announced suddenly.
Both men turned to look at her quizzically. “What is it Freya?” her brother asked.
Adri heard it before the others did, the high whine blended into the hum of the scenery. “Get down!” she shouted, grabbing a hank of Freya's hair and pulling her down to the elaborate brick drive. Beside her, Gray had tackled Floyd and the four of them rolled under the dubious safety of the cruiser as a grenade exploded only feet away. It was immediately followed by the thud and hiss of a fogger bomb. White smoke quickly began to envelop the drive.
“What the hell is going on?” Adri demanded as a second grenade exploded somewhere nearby. The smoke had already become too dense to see more than four feet away.
Floyd shook his head. “I don't know! This seems an extreme way of taking me out, if that's the agenda!”
“You've received death threats?” Gray scowled.
“Not exactly,”
The rapid firing of several assault blasters ended the conversation. “We have to get out of here,” Freya said urgently. “More are coming,”
Adri didn't ask how Freya knew, her own instincts agreed. Her blood was up and racing, her elegy singing its lovely song. “We need to get out of here,”
“Everyone in the cruiser,” Gray ordered. “Now!”
The ironic thing about fogger bombs was that they disoriented not only the enemy, but one's own side as well. Adri banked on the enemy being far enough away that they wouldn't inhale the smoke, and therefore not close enough for a rush attack. Still, it would only take a hit on the cruiser to blast them all to bits. Seconds inched by as Adri and Gray released the lock on the doors and pushed the Tarkubunjis in. Freya went immediately to the driver's seat.
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