Lost Past

by Teresa McCullough

  What was more troubling was Saxant’s perception. Although she could only read a few people, that experience gave her a better understanding of others, giving her an advantage in understanding people. In addition, her tendency to snoop gave her better knowledge to judge human interactions. And sometimes she learned from John, both by telepathy of his thoughts about people and his comments to her. But Plict reacted differently and she had no basis for understanding them. She wondered if she would have been better off learning about Plict than about their computers. Saxant studied humans and understood human reactions. She never studied Plict.

  She always worried that anyone who learned about her telepathy would feel at a disadvantage. She never thought she would experience that disadvantage herself.

  Jorxt returned and grabbed her arm, half-dragging her into another room. “You are going to solve the computer problem,” he said as he pushed her into a chair in front of a computer.

  “Or?”

  “I’ve sent for Wilson to be brought here. I might get in trouble for killing you, but I won’t for killing him.” She was surprised at how the thought of Wilson’s death hurt her. She briefly wondered why she was safe from Jorxt, but realized it was because she was Arthur Saunders’ daughter.

  Linda still had no way of reading Plict emotion, but the lack of a change in tone and the absence of facial expressions suggested this was simply a statement of truth, not a threat. “All right, but it will take days.” She was lying, because it shouldn’t take her more than a day, since she put in no anti-detection code in the original virus.

  Virus checker or virus hunter? She tossed a mental coin and realized she wanted the virus checker. It was more routine and she wouldn’t be giving them any information they couldn’t easily obtain. She started writing the program, although she missed having the man pages, which were unavailable due to the problems with the network.

  Because she needed a copy of the code to block, she went to the LINDA website, or more accurately the 12-09-14-04-01 website. She couldn’t resist checking to see if Dad copied her code. He had, leaving a message: I INSTALLED IT BUT NOT SURE IF I WILL USE IT. She was happy he used the word “will” not “can” because it implied he had some control.

  No one else visited her website. Come to think of it, she should have some physical visitors. Didn’t Jorxt say he sent for Wilson? Why wasn’t he here? He felt close, closer than their apartment. Suddenly, she sensed Dad and John. They were coming toward her very rapidly, too rapidly to be walking, but they were still pretty far away. Outside the city? Probably. She never completely believed Dad was here, in spite of the messages on her website. Knowing they were near gave her new confidence.

  Saxant wanted her to delay, and she found a use for extra time. She put a message into the network for John or her father.

  ***

  “What do you mean, he wasn’t there?” Jorxt thundered. “I sent you to get him.”

  “We searched everywhere. Cara was there, but Wilson was gone,” said Franz. Jorxt thought it was Franz, but couldn’t be sure. Even the humans had trouble telling the clones apart. How could he be expected to know which was which? He never wanted to make a mistake on it, because it would interfere with his godlike image. Maybe he should get them to wear different clothes. No, they would guess what it was for. He hit Franz hard enough to knock him down. It was completely safe, because all four of them would accept whatever he did. The blow should leave a bruise, making it easier to tell who was who. Next time, he should do it with something in his hand to cut the clone’s face. A scar would be a nice identifier. If he knocked some teeth out of another clone, then there would be no problem at all.

  “Franz,” Jorxt said, being smart enough to pause, because he wasn’t sure that he hit Franz. One of the others reacted, so Jorxt changed what he was going to say. “Go bring Cara here.” Franz left.

  “Goran,” Jorxt said with another pause. He assumed he hit Alvar, but when the clone he hit reacted, he was able to cover. “Redeem yourself by helping Franz.” Goran looked relieved and eagerly ran after Franz. “Alvar and Hernandez, you said you searched this level. Try the basement below and the farm above. Find Wilson.” He didn’t need to wait for a reaction, because Alvar was the only blond left.

  A voice came from behind him. Jorxt whirled around to see Linda. She was standing still, like she was watching him, not like she just arrived. How dare she watch him!

  “What is the command to compare strings? I think it’s ‘STRINGCOMPARE’ but I can’t remember the syntax. The man pages aren’t up.”

  Jorxt was dumbfounded. She must have seen what happened and instead of cowering, she was asking him about computer code. Worse yet, he didn’t remember the answer. Jorxt stormed out to find his Bud.

  “?,” wrote Jorxt-Bud IX. “Manual offline. Command sounds right. Don’t remember syntax.”

  IX erased his tablet and wrote something he showed to Jorxt, but not Linda: “Saxant would know.”

  Jorxt grabbed Linda’s arm and pulled her forward. Instead of coming obediently, she braced herself on a doorway with her other hand. Jorxt hit her and she kicked him. Jorxt released his grip in shock. IX leaped forward to kill Linda, but a word from Jorxt stopped him. If IX killed her, he would never get the program. In addition, he would be denied the right to bud again. He never thought the law was unreasonable before. How dare a mere human attack a Plict. Except, legally, she was Plict, which meant he couldn’t let his Bud kill her.

  He looked around and saw two Buds observed his humiliation with humor. One was a recent Bud he knew, thus sure to share it with his progenitor. How could he make this look right? What could he do to make it so he wasn’t laughed at? “Jorxt-Bud IX,” he said firmly. “I should have shared my plan to see how humans that are not genetically programmed react to us. I’m sorry I almost allowed you to commit a crime.” He turned to Linda and said in his most conciliatory tone, “I hope you forgive me this test, Linda, but I needed to know how much you would defend yourself.”

  “Ms. Saunders,” she said.

  “I’m sorry?” Jorxt asked.

  “To you, I’m Ms. Saunders. And I will defend myself with lethal force, if required.”

  “That’s good to know,” Jorxt replied. Only it wasn’t good.

  Linda asked the Buds her programming question. One of them picked up a slate and started writing. Linda asked a couple of questions, but seemed satisfied. Jorxt looked at the Bud and suddenly realized he was wearing Jorxt’s clothing. His new aqua wrap, which he just ordered but never wore. It was too loose on the Bud, which meant the Bud was too thin to live long. He didn’t recognize . . .

  “Saxant-Bud!”

  “Saxant-Bud I, to be precise,” said Saxant, upon entering the room. Saxant looked at Linda and asked, “Did you tell him?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me what?” asked Jorxt.

  The human seemed to be enjoying this. “You’ve used his possessions, so he can use yours, and he has a permit. Whatever that means.”

  “My new wrap!” It was the latest style, and very expensive.

  “I can’t let my Bud go naked,” Saxant said.

  “But . . .”

  “You ate the food I brought in without asking, you’ve used my loofah, you make free with my body oil, you used my private transmitter, you even used my space ship without refueling. You never ask permission. You act like you’re entitled.”

  “You can’t have a permit,” Jorxt complained, ignoring Saxant’s litany.

  “I’ve had it since the Bud epidemic of ’53,” said Saxant.

  “You didn’t use it! That’s, that’s . . .”

  “My choice. There was no time limit on it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Linda asked. Ms. Saunders asked.

  Saxant turned to her, totally ignoring Jorxt’s righteous indignation. “About 20 years ago, there was an epidemic. It blocked the blowholes of most Plict who got sick. For the mouthed Plict, it was a minor annoyance, but it
was fatal to Buds, unless someone got to them fast enough to put in a breathing tube. Permits to Bud are very expensive, but they discounted them to about a tenth the price for a short time. Too many jobs were going unfilled.”

  Saxant continued talking to Ms. Saunders. “I am interested to know how you program a virus checker. We’ve never had the need before.” The two of them walked back to the computer she was using.

  “It’s very straightforward, because I didn’t do anything fancy with the virus. I also have the source code, which makes it quite easy. Of course, since the virus is embedded in numerous databases they’ll be corrupted, no matter what I do.”

  Jorxt was no longer concerned that Ms. Saunders wouldn’t write the virus checker, but it didn’t matter. A great deal of damage had been done, and he would be blamed. He could get his revenge by killing Wilson. That was legal.

  “I could do it,” IX said. “Even if they retroactively make it illegal, the worst thing that could happen is that you couldn’t bud. You’re financially secure, and don’t really need it.”

  Jorxt wasn’t surprised IX guessed his thoughts. He’d have to think about it before acting. Meanwhile, he needed to find what happened to Wilson.

  ***

  The corridors were eerily empty of people, but filled with the stench of death. John traveled a surprising distance before he saw someone. Others in the hall had beards and shaggy hair, and many walked slowly, as if recovering from the flu. No one appeared to think he looked odd.

  John slowed down his walking speed and slouched as he went through the hallway. He only saw a couple of other people and they kept to the former accepted behavior of not even making eye contact with people in the hallways. He passed near Katrine’s room, and considered stopping. He wondered if she lived. He was headed for the apartment he shared with Cara, Linda, and Wilson, but was startled to see Cara in the intersection ahead of him with one of the clones holding her. She looked his way and paused. The clone, who was holding her arm, jerked her forward, then looked at John. Recognition wasn’t instant, but it was quick. The clone’s right hand came off her arm into his shirt, pulling out the same type of weapon Hernandez fired at him before.

  The clone had all the time in the world, and was going to take it. John didn’t remember starting running toward them, and was halfway there before he knew he was too late. The clone would fire and kill him.

  Cara kneed the clone in the crotch.

  John crashed into the clone before the clone had a chance to recover, sending the weapon flying. Instead of trying to keep his balance, the clone spun John around, landing on top of him. The muscular man on top of him clearly had more experience fighting than John did. He was going to lose, and Cara would still be a prisoner.

  The weapon discharged and the clone lay still.

  Cara stood there, holding the weapon, while John pushed the body off him. He took a pulse, verifying the clone was dead. When John stood up, her expression changed from looking stunned to looking determined. She handed him the weapon handle first. He put on the safety, sticking it into his waist. After he did it, he realized he must have known about this type of weapon.

  “We should hide the body,” Cara said, with forced calmness.

  “Katrine’s room is near.” John and Cara picked up the body and carried it into her room. Fortunately they weren’t seen and the room was unlocked.

  Katrine was dead, lying on her bed. In death she was no longer beautiful. Illness had aged her. John was surprised at his lack of emotion. Should he grieve or be happy? He wasn’t sure. Whatever there was between them was done. Unless he regained his memories, she was not part of his life. People talked about closure, and this seemed to be it. It was the end of a relationship he didn’t remember.

  He turned and saw Cara searching the body of the clone. She pulled off a holster he used to hold the weapon under his shirt, tossing it to John. John caught it and frowned slightly. He went into the bathroom and washed it off, illogically considering it unclean, but realized that was just squeamishness.

  There was no shortage of mirrors in the room, and he was able to confirm that the loose shirt he wore hid both the water bottle and the weapon.

  Cara said, “Help me get him onto the bed. With any luck, they’ll never notice how he died.”

  After they finished, she wrinkled her nose and said, “I’ve done autopsies, but this . . .” She gestured and suddenly left the room. John could hear her throwing up in the bathroom. John realized it wasn’t so much the body as the fact that Cara was responsible for it. She came back a few minutes later and said, “They took Linda, but I don’t know where they went. Wilson went after her.”

  “You weren’t locked in?”

  “Wilson sabotaged the door. The plate the door locked onto could be removed with a good tug. We could have left anytime, but where would we go? For that matter, what do we do now?”

  John went over to Katrine’s computer and mouthed, “Where is Linda Saunders?” It was a long shot, but he had no better ideas.

  He hadn’t identified himself, but the screen suddenly gave a message written in English: Fill in the blank: My name is Bond, _________ Bond. John mouthed, “James.” The screen filled with a map, showing both Katrine’s room and a place labeled “Treatment.” There was an arrow pointing to the treatment room with the notation, “Linda is here, guarded by Vigintees and there are Plict inside. Jorxt sent for Cara and is looking for Wilson. He plans to kill them. The receptionist sent me back without the guards, not letting them accompany me.”

  Cara was looking over his shoulder, and said, “Take me there. As a prisoner.”

  “Arthur is outside,” John said. “There’s a basement with a door to the outside. There are stairways—”

  “I know about the stairways,” Cara interrupted. “But you have a better chance of getting in if you take me.”

  John wanted to protect Cara but realized her plan was probably the best bet.

  “The man I killed was Franz,” she said. “Another one came to help, but Franz sent him away. The others are looking for Wilson.”

  They followed the directions on Linda’s map and John gripped Cara’s arm, just like Franz did. A lone man at the desk said, “Send her back.” Cara attacked the man, not effectively, as she did with Franz, but with her nails. John pulled her back and imprisoned her in his arms. He wasn’t sure he didn’t have an accent after all the years he lived on Earth, so he said nothing, but tried to look a question at the man. “You better take her back,” the man said, wiping the blood from his face.

  ***

  Jorxt retreated to his room to connect with other Plict. His transmitter worked for about twenty miles. But there were Plict who were willing to connect him to others. He wanted news of how the world was reacting to the computer virus that the horrible Earth woman let loose, but instead they were all talking about a Bud conspiracy, which led to finding a mouthed Plict conspiracy, and another Bud conspiracy. He didn’t really understand it, but the computer virus seemed to be secondary news. He gave up and returned to the others.

  “Is your program finished?” Jorxt asked Ms. Saunders. She didn’t appear to be working, but chatting with Saxant.

  “Almost, but there’s no point,” she responded.

  “No point!”

  Saxant gave an amused glance at Jorxt, and pulled out a small transmitter. “The Plict have dozens of virus checkers out there and are spreading the word with private transmitters and hand-delivered software. Not everything is running, but we can communicate.”

  Jorxt went back to his room to his computer and mouthed some words. Pictures of Wilson came on the screen, a few minutes before a blackout. He wasn’t in his room, and was wearing all his heavy clothing and had a couple of shirts pulled half over his head, with torn pants legs covering his hands. Wilson barged into someone’s apartment and used his computer. Almost immediately, there was a selective blackout for about two minutes. The corridors between Wilson’s location and the exit to the upper lev
els were darkened, but the decontamination chamber worked enough to allow one person through it.

  After summoning Hernandez, Jorxt went to the main room. The only Plict left were Saxant, Saxant-Bud and Jorxt-Bud IX.

  “Where is everyone?” Jorxt asked no one in particular.

  “I sent all the humans scheduled for treatment home, and made an announcement that they will come again in three months,” said Saxant. “There’s no point in spreading more flu. The Buds are going to organize a cleanup of bodies. Someone has to take charge.”

  Jorxt was angry, but IX handed him a slate with the words, “You don’t want more witnesses” written on it. It was too early for IX’s loyalty to change, which made Jorxt stop and think. No, what he was planning was right. Ms. Saunders had to pay, and since he couldn’t hurt her directly without consequences, he would hurt her indirectly. He could even justify killing Cara, since she caused the deaths of so many humans. Everyone should be glad he killed her.

  Only Wilson’s death would hurt that woman more. Jorxt went to the waiting room and found it empty except for the receptionist, who informed Jorxt he’d been told to stay to send away anyone who arrived for treatment. Jorxt waited.

  Hernandez and two of the clones returned. Three was enough to fight Wilson.

  “I’m sorry. We couldn’t find him,” Hernandez said. “Franz is bringing Cara.”

  “Wilson’s upstairs,” Jorxt said in exasperation.

  Hernandez hesitated, apparently torn between using the two different entrances to the upstairs, here, leading to the thorns or the other entrance, near the strawberries.

  “He’s in the thorns,” Jorxt said, suspecting that Wilson realized there was a direct entrance from the lab the Plict used to the farm above them.

  Jorxt’s knowledge of Wilson’s location helped maintain the image of the all-knowing Plict. It might be a good idea to send them all up to go through the thorns, since the different patterns of scars would make them easy to identify.

  No, that would be pointless. Wait, one could go. He pointed at a random clone. “Go, attack him from behind, using the main entrance. The others will wait with me, in case he comes through this entrance.” Ah, the one he hit was the one he pointed to, since there was a slight mark on his face. This would look like punishment. Besides, he should have stayed and helped bring in Cara. Never mind, it would only take one of them to do it. If he ordered it to be done, they should do it that way. Which one was it? He didn’t pay enough attention before. Goran! That was it.