Mindguard

by Andrei Cherascu

  On this particular walk, he decided to stop at a café. He felt it was a step forward in fighting the paranoia that had taken control of him over the past few days. Sipping a special blend of the planet’s native kannuit coffee, he thought of Sophie. How fragile and vulnerable she had looked, surrounded by the massive bodyguards, how tiny she seemed wearing her combat uniform. He remembered how much he had wanted to join them on the mission. Now, he felt incredibly lucky that he had been left behind. All he had wanted was a chance to work with Sheldon Ayers, but who knows where Sheldon was at that moment.

  The aroma of the spicy kannuit had the effect of calming him down a bit. Perhaps he should access the cloud and see if he could find any news about the state of Ayers-Ross and its owners. A mindguard should not give way to superstitious fears. He wondered what Samuel Weixman would have thought if he had seen him avoid the cloud as though it had some sort of magical powers. Besides, the link was always active, whether or not he accessed it. If they wanted to, the enforcers could easily find him either way.

  He decided to do it, but not from the crowded café. He wanted privacy. As if to give himself courage, he chose to pay for the coffee directly from his cloud acount. He activated it, registered his name, paid for the drink and then quickly left. When he reached his bungalow, he searched his pants pocket for the large iron key.

  In order to maintain the simple Samarean feel of the resort, the bungalows were not provided with the usual holoencrypted lock. They opened with an old-fashioned iron key, like back in the centuries before, on Old Earth. What a calming sensation, to push and turn a key. He stepped into the cool air of his room and turned to lock the door. When he turned back around, a tall, muscular man was standing before him. Alex startled and stepped back, hitting the door.

  The intruder was not wearing his Enforcement Unit uniform but Alex recognized the typical holotattoo on his wrist. It lit up as the man lifted his hand so Alex could take a better look at it.

  “Mr. Lea, please come with me,” he said in a deep, emotionless voice.

  Chapter 28

  Ayers’ disease is a rare form of dementia encountered exclusively in mindguards. It begins slowly, first involving the parts of the brain that control thought, memory and language. People with Ayers’ disease will have trouble remembering things as quickly as before, might find a slower reaction time or increased difficulties with lateral thinking. Because of the particularities of the mindguard’s brain, the disease is very difficult to diagnose in its incipient stages, as the symptoms are practically unrecognizable to non-mindguards. Over time, the symptoms get worse. Visual and auditory hallucinations develop, anxiety and aggression can occur and, in extreme cases, the mindguards can lose control of the Weixman Barrier, the psychological hindrance that prevents them from interacting in hostile or intrusive ways with a person’s mind. That can make them a danger to themselves and society. Ayers’ disease begins after age 40 and the risk of developing it is higher if a family member has had it. The name of the disease comes from veteran mindguard Kinsey Ayers. He is known to be the first recorded patient, after the discovery of a journal kept by his grandson, in which the author follows the development of the then unknown malady in his grandfather and describes in minute detail every behavioral symptom of the progressing illness.

  The Shorter Maartens Interstellar Encyclopedia of Neurology, 98th Edition, 2387

  As a man suffering from Soixtet’s Disease, Brother Dogan was no stranger to pain. He lived with it every day of his life. Pain was there when he slept and it was there when he woke. It was there while he ate, worked, prayed and went back to sleep. Every part of his diseased body felt like it was fighting to rip itself free from the rest. The pain was constant. It was certainly not a friend but it was a companion and, like with all unalterable things, Brother Dogan eventually got used to it. He felt like he had such a vast experience with it, that he was immune to its effect, like he had somehow developed a superhuman tolerance for all forms of pain. He was wrong.

  Lying on the ground, with the voidman standing over him, Brother Dogan was in more pain than he had ever imagined possible. He had been exposed to physical suffering of all kinds, but he did not remember ever before losing bladder control.

  When the voidman surprised him in front of his home and took him hostage, he was just seconds away from a torture that not even his horrible disease had ever managed to inflict. Brother Dogan was of the belief that there had to be a certain balance in the universe. As a Christian of Kalhydon, he had been taught that the afflictions of the righteous are many, but that the Lord delivers him out of them all. At that moment, he felt that not even an eternal afterlife of relief could compensate for what he had just endured.

  The man had accosted him in the walkway, in front of his house. He was dark and dangerous. His skin was covered in something that looked like fish scales and had the color of tar. There was no spot on his body unshielded by the strange black scales. Brother Dogan could see no hair, and he could not make out the man’s eyes. The entrance to the house was hidden by the large leaves of the Mathessia plant, so no one could see the shadowman grab Brother Dogan by the throat and push him inside.

  “Who are you?” the diseased man asked. The answer came in the form of a backhand slap. To his beleaguered face, it felt like a stab wound. He fell to the ground with tears in his eyes. They were tears of pain, those of frustration would follow later.

  The assailant crouched beside him and grabbed his face in his right hand. At that moment, Brother Dogan realized something peculiar: the attacker did not shy away from touching him, in spite of his very contagious affliction. He had seen only one other healthy person who had not turned away in disgust from him and the rest of the brothers. That was Brother Torje. But Torje was a saint, that’s what the brothers were saying. He was blessed by God. How else could he have spent two years on Kalhydon without contacting the disease? This man, however, was definitely not a saint. He was a man of darkness, and nothing but darkness resided in his heart.

  “Where is Torje?” he asked. His voice matched his form, for it had the consistency of a shadow.

  Brother Dogan’s reluctance to answer was rewarded with agony. At first, he could not recognize the source. The pain seemed to penetrate him through the man’s fingertips, where strange shapes glowed red on the black, scaly plate. It seemed to be a highly advanced weapon that sent a surge of intense pain to every free nerve ending in his body. A second shock caused him to lose bladder control, and he started crying.

  The man had come after Brother Torje, their most valued friend. He had come to hurt him or to kill him and Brother Dogan was crying because he knew he would give the man the answer he sought.

  “His house is further away from the village… on the hill,” he whimpered. “We didn’t want… him… to live close to us, for fear he…. might get sick. But he…. but he insisted… to be close to us….” His body convulsed and he choked at the thought of the dear friend whom he was now betraying. He cried, cursing the weakness of his spirit, which was entirely different from all the times he had cried damning the frailty of his body.

  The tormentor said nothing. Brother Dogan continued speaking without need for further stimulation. In very short time, the assassin knew the way to the house of Brother Torje, the Doctor. Like his voice, his body too was a shadow. When he made his exit, he almost seemed to evaporate, though Brother Dogan was no longer alive to witness that

  Chapter 29

  Shocking: The fulcrum on which the political stability of the IFCO spins has unexplainably disappeared. In an unprecedented event, Thomas Liam Anderson, High Commander of the Enforcement Unit, has not been seen or heard from in over 48 hours. Sources within the Parliament and close to the Council of Presidents have confirmed that the Commander missed several meetings and his staff refused to offer any explanations regarding his absence. All attempts to gain information about his whereabouts from the Enforcement Unit spokespersons have been met with silence, leading to speculat
ion about the Commander’s well-being. Join us tonight on Impartial Interrogation to uncover the truth behind the Commander’s mysterious disappearance as well as the way in which it affect the future of the IFCO. Special guests: historian Mike Vernon and Andrada Romaine, Councilliary Aid to President Igor Zhukov.

  Commercial for the political talk-show Impartial Interrogation with Rone Wilson, aired 2326

  “Maclaine Ross is dead.”

  The words echoed in his mind for a long time. The terrible truth of their message was the culmination of a really bad day.

  For Alex, the last few hours had been a test of physical and mental endurance. The enforcer who had waited in his residence on Tagatha 3 managed to easily overpower him and place his hands in neurocuffs. He used a highly advanced personal transporter to generate a Muench-Henriksen gateway right in the middle of the small room, and they both stepped through it. Nobody would notice that Alex was gone; that thought terrified him. He knew that the enforcers presumably stood for justice and freedom, that he normally had no reason to be afraid, since he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he also knew what many people were saying about this military, whose influence was expanding beyond the boundaries of justification.

  They rematerialized in what looked like the arrival chamber of a spacecraft. There, they waited a few minutes, before entering the departure chamber, which took them to another spaceship. The process was repeated two more times. When they reached the last ship, something about the ambiance of the place told Alex that he was very far away from Tagathta 3.

  They were met by an older man with a goatee, who ordered Alex to follow him. The young mindguard obeyed, bumping along the narrow, claustrophobia-inducing hallways of the small vessel. They reached a holochamber where a bearded man studied a number of maps and other holoscreens which displayed unrecognizable data. He made no sign that he was even aware of Alex’ presence. A door at the other end of the room slid open, revealing a woman of extraordinary beauty. If he were not trembling with fear, Alex would have been very attracted to her. Her demeanor suggested that she had the authority to decide his fate. The goateed man saluted her and she responded.

  “Ma’am,” he said.

  “Dismissed,” the woman said in a melodious voice, never taking her eyes off Alex. The old enforcer turned around and hastily left, leaving Alex alone with her and the map-gazer.

  “My name is Field Unit Commander Tamisa Faber,” she said.

  Alex was surprised she took the time to introduce herself. He said nothing. What could he even say? ‘How lovely to meet you’? Anyway, she didn’t wait for a reply and just continued talking. Her voice was not threatening, but everything else about her was.

  “Alex Lea, you’ve worked in the position of Junior Mindguard for Ayers-Ross for several months. Recently, you have been granted access to a briefing session concerning the delivery of an information package designated AR16997418.

  “I’m not telling you anything about the mission,” Alex said and immediately regretted it. He had meant to be brave but his survival instinct quickly took over and scolded him for his imprudence. The woman remained calm.

  “We already know everything about the mission, Mr. Lea,” she said in a patronizing tone. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

  “Then?” he asked, trying to sound as calm and detached as was possible under the circumstances.

  “You were not supposed to be part of the mission and yet they’ve allowed you to sit in on the briefing session. That’s not standard procedure for Ayers-Ross and you were merely a junior mindguard. Why did Maclaine Ross include you?”

  “I… I admire Sheldon Ayers,” he said cautiously. “The whole reason I joined Ayers-Ross was so that I could study under Sheldon Ayers.”

  “Go on.”

  “Sheldon was semi-retired, he almost never took part in active missions anymore.”

  “Yet, he took part in this one.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know why?”

  The woman sounded like she already knew the answer. She was testing his truthfulness like you would a small child.

  “The client asked for his services specifically.”

  “And why did he accept?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “All right, continue. The briefing session…”

  Alex hesitated. He hated the way the woman spoke to him, like he owed her the answers, like she was so certain that he was going to do what she said. But what other choice did he have? For a few moments, he thought about demanding some answers himself, but he decided he probably wouldn’t get them anyway and he would just make the enforcers mad. He sighed.

  “Well, since I hadn’t yet gotten the chance to work with Sheldon, I guess Mac wanted to make it up to me by allowing me to observe him as much as possible.”

  “Is that your mindguard deduction?” She was mocking him but he refused to get caught up in her game. “Yes,” he answered coldly, “that is my mindguard opinion.”

  The woman turned to the bearded man and looked at him as if to say ‘See, I told you’. He made short visual contact and then returned to his data.

  “You also had coffee with Sheldon Ayers on that day, didn’t you?”

  “I did, yes. We got to spend some time together.” At the last second he refrained from adding: ‘What’s it to you?’

  “So it’s all about Sheldon Ayers then, isn’t it?” She displayed a cryptic smile.

  “He is the greatest mindguard in the world, perhaps in history,” Alex said.

  “Indeed, he is,” the woman whispered, with an absent gaze. “All right, you’re going to help me track down Sophie Gaumont!”

  Alex let out a loud laugh. He had planned it to be derisive, but it somehow came out sounding like the giggle of a little girl.

  “You think I’m going to sell out Mac?”

  Then came the decisive blow: “Maclaine Ross is dead.” She said it with cold hatred, but also with a hint of pride. At that moment, Alex hated her like nobody before.

  “You… you killed Mac? Why?” he barely managed to articulate.

  “Patience, Mr. Lea, you’re going to get all the details… now that we will be working together.”

  “What?” he shrieked. “Screw you! All of you! I don’t know what the hell this is, I don’t know what Anderson thinks he’s doing, but I’m not playing along!”

  At the mention of Commander Anderson, the woman and the bearded man exchanged a quick glance. Its significance remained a mystery to Alex. He felt like wanted to strike her but he wisely didn’t.

  “Are you done, Mr. Lea?” she asked. “Can I trust that you will remain calm long enough for me to give you the information you desire?”

  She interpreted his silence correctly as a sign of submission, and continued speaking: “We intercepted Ross’ team right here on Noriado2.”

  “Wait, we’re on Noriado?” Again, Alex was shouting. He looked around the room terrified. He was in the desert? The woman seemed annoyed at having been interrupted, but she remained calm.

  “Yes, we’re still on Noriado. As I was trying to say… we intercepted the team. Maclaine Ross is dead, so are Jason Elden, Isabel Mensah, Simon Bayles and Luther Brinks. The other two are under Enforcement Unit detainment.”

  “You killed my team?”

  “They are no longer your team, Mr. Lea… we are!”

  “You’re insane, who the hell are you? Since when do the enforcers practice kidnapping?”

  “Alex…” Her voice was now soft and sympathetic. “I understand your frustration, and your loyalty to Maclaine Ross is certainly something the Enforcement Unit respects, but that loyalty is misdirected.”

  For the first time, the bearded man shifted his focus away from the holoscreens and spoke.

  “According to Paragraph 7, Chapter 29 of the Transportation Law of 2321, only government-issued information can cross the borders of the IFCO. No man is allowed to cross private information. Any information that leaves the confines of the
IFCO is considered political and thus relevant to the government and the Council of Presidents. Maclaine Ross was made entirely aware of this by his legal advisor, Kriss White. By accepting this mission, Maclaine Ross knew that he and his team could be accused of aiding in treason against the Federation.”

  “Treason?” Alex shouted. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat. “That can’t be, there must be a mistake!”

  “There’s no mistake, I assure you,” the woman said. “Maclaine Ross knowingly withheld this information from his entire team. The very fact that we are having this conversation should confirm that I am telling the truth.”

  “I -”

  “This man was undeserving of your loyalty. He was undeserving of the loyalty of Jason Elden, Isabel Mensah, Simon Bayles, Luther Brinks… and Sheldon Ayers. Alex, I know this is hard to accept. I can grant you some time to let it sink in, but not a lot. Please understand, the Enforcement Unit has no secret agenda. We are simply trying to stop the transportation of unauthorized information which could pose a threat to interstellar security.”

  “I don’t -”

  “I know it doesn’t make sense right now, Alex. Are you aware of Maclaine Ross’ personal history, of his father’s political affiliations?”

  “What? No, what affiliations?”

  “Alex, I need your help.”

  “You killed my team you crazy bitch!”

  The woman kept her composure. “We acted in self defense. Your team also killed a member of mine.”

  Alex could see in her eyes that she was telling the truth. She let him study her face for a few moments, never taking her eyes off his, then she continued: “In this encounter, in which we both have lost team members, Sophie Gaumont and Sheldon Ayers managed to escape.”