“That's okay, Mike. Don't worry. You don't need to feel bad about having been out of touch. And rest assured that we don't blame you. Each of us has been dealing with this in his own way. It took years before I could set foot in Canberra again. Franz is in prison and poor Igor...”
“In an asylum,” the American concluded.
“Right.”
“And Sirio? I thought I'd find him here.”
“You knew that he was living with us?”
“Even if you're no longer appearing on prime time shows, it only took a couple of searches on New Google, clicking on the Australian listings and asking the guy a couple of houses down,” he said, gesturing.
“We're never going to be anonymous.”
“Given the initial reaction, I think things went amazingly well.”
“True. But now, I beg you, don't keep me waiting. Tell me why you came all the way out here.”
The smell of coffee permeated the house. Smiling and polite as always, Betty brought in two cups of the energizing beverage. In some ways, she was a simple woman, without a lot of crazy ideas in her head, as Tylor would say; yet she was extremely insightful. So it was easy for her to figure out why this man had come from the United States to confess the torments of his soul to Doctor Tylor Ryan; just like Sirio, she thought.
After thanking her, Mike returned to his concerns, forgetting about the cup as if it didn't exist. Tylor, however, sipped the steaming beverage, waiting for his friend to begin speaking.
“I came here… And, I repeat, it may just be paranoia. But I came because a beautiful woman has suddenly come into my life; and, mind you, I'm not talking about my wife.”
The Australian seemed a bit disoriented: he didn't understand where his friend was going with this.
“She appeared in our town, out of nowhere. Then, unexpectedly, she began to have this irresistible hold on me. I've never been attracted to anything or anyone this way.”
“You've got a crush on a beautiful woman. There's nothing strange about it, except that you're married and it could get you in a bit of trouble.”
“It's not what you think...”
“Dear God, Mike. I can help you with any kind of equation, or to play a good game of rugby, but I'm not the right person for this type of thing. What do you want me to say? If you like her...”
“Whoa, stop, stop! You're way off. I love my family and wouldn't jeopardize that for anyone. This isn't about a physical attraction, raging hormones, her ass, tits, or any of the usual things. The woman has put a spell on me; she controls my thoughts.”
“Damn, that's worse than I thought,” said Tylor, amused; and all the more convinced that his friend had a crush.
“Please stop kidding around,” Mike said, getting upset.
Tylor pulled himself together and became serious again.
“I know this isn't real, but I can't help myself. It's as though she has magical powers. I fled before she could get a firmer hold on my head.”
“What did you tell your wife?”
“That I had to leave for Australia, to ask forgiveness and make things right with an old friend.”
“And she let you go, just like that?”
“I told her that it was about the Alpha Orionis and Tylor Ryan. She's been very understanding and helpful about this part of my past.”
“I know what you mean.”
“If it was only that, I'd think that my involvement with the charming Olga was a crush and nothing more, as you did. But you should know that lately, along with some others...” Mike appeared to be counting in his head, “eight of us have formed a group, opposing the Ikalians.”
“My God. You too?”
“Don't jump to any more hasty conclusions! I have no intention of blowing up an Ikalian settlement like Franz!”
“So what's its purpose?”
“In some sense, it was a way to overcome our fears. The other members of the group, like me, have suffered huge losses from the Taahrians' attack.”
“It sounds more like a support group than opposition.”
“That was actually how it started. But then we started discussing our views, finding worse and worse things to say about the Ikalians, and we drew some disturbing conclusions.”
“Okay. But how does the lovely Olga fit into this?”
“The last time that I saw her, she began talking about how she supported the Ikalians: saying wonderful things about them, and describing them as humanity's benefactors. And I, instead of responding or saying nothing, started to believe that she was right and to support her ideas. I don't know how it happened, but it was as if she was controlling my thoughts. I was convinced that those thoughts, which had suddenly popped into my head, had always been what I believed. Then I became lucid again for moment and I realized the deception. I got frightened and fled.”
“That's very troublesome, but I still don't understand why you came all the way out here to tell me about it. You could've used a telephone or the internet...”
“I think that they're spying on me; and that they're trying to control me.”
“Who? The Ikalians?”
“Yes!”
“Why would they do that?”
“I imagine it's because I might pose some danger to them. I'm still an individual who, if he wanted to, could attract a lot of attention. Like all of us from the Alpha Orionis could. And they, in some way, know or assume that I'm opposed to their programs. And I came here...” Mike's thoughts began to run together, so he paused to regroup.
“Tylor, let me be very clear. If that woman, or whatever the hell she is, has been sent to brainwash me, the same could happen to you or Sirio. I came to warn you.”
The Australian felt a chill run down his spine. “I'm curious,” he said anxiously. “What's this Olga like?”
“Well, like I told you. She's very attractive and when she speaks...”
“No! I mean physically.”
“She's young, tall, blond and has blue eyes.”
“My God!” Tylor exclaimed, panic-stricken.
“What's wrong?”
“Sirio!”
Mike looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“It began a short time ago.”
“What did?”
“He completely lost his head over this young women: tall, blond, with blue eyes.”
“Son of a bitch! I knew it!”
Tylor put his hands in his hair.
“Everything okay, boys?” Betty interjected.
“I don't know. I don't know,” Tylor responded, shaking his head.
“And Namiko?” Mike asked unexpectedly, catching his friend by surprise. “What's happened to her? I heard that she had practically disappeared, but then the media just stopped talking about her. I thought that the experience with the Taahrians had made her want to vanish, like I did.”
“She was happily engaged to Sirio. They were getting married...”
“So, were the rumors true? What happened? Was it that young blond woman that irremediably distracted Sirio?”
“No, that happened afterward.”
“I hope he's okay. Sirio must've suffered horribly when he lost her.”
“He did, but... well, at this point, it’s useless to continue to hide things from you. Perhaps Betty has already figured it out.”
The woman nodded an emotional "yes," her eyes filled with tears. She was all too aware of Namiko's fate, and perhaps that of Sirio as well.
“Hide what?” Mike realized that he wasn't the only one with shocking news to confess.
“Dammit! I promised him that I'd never tell anyone. I feel like I'm betraying his confidence,” Tylor admitted grimly.
“At this point, it's possible that Sirio is no longer the man we once knew,” Betty noted.
“But I...” Tylor had never broken a promise.
“Mike,” Betty said, sighing deeply and taking the enormous responsibility on herself. “Namiko is on the Alpha Orionis.”
Mike's face pal
ed and his eyes opened wide.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed.
38
“We're getting ever closer to your planet,” Eldgh said, as if the object belonged solely to Namiko.
“What is it? Why are you smiling like that?” the Taahrian asked, seeing her snicker.
“I'm still surprised that you feel the need to convince me that for who knows how many species, the Earth is a planet like any other; when, for me, it’s home, life and everything!”
“I didn't mean to offend you.”
“I'm not offended. Really.”
Namiko seemed sincere; even less upset than usual. Eldgh believed her.
“I emphasized the possessive your since you know where you come from and your origins; you have a strong sense of belonging to something.”
“I'm sorry. I have no idea how you must feel.”
“Sometimes I don't even know myself; but please know that I'm not indifferent to the Earth.”
Namiko was aware of the First Officer's sincerity as well.
“During today's inspection of the Engine Room, I realized that we should slow down.”
“Slow down?” Namiko asked, as if perhaps she hadn't understood correctly.
“To reduce the fatigue on the superluminal propulsion system.”
“We should or we have to?”
“The C6 units say that we have to.”
“Then I completely agree with them.”
“Okay, I'll do it.”
“So why are you asking me about it?”
“Merely so that you can participate in every decision. I thought you knew that by now.”
“I'm sorry. It's just the emotional stress that...”
“You don't have to be sorry about anything.”
Namiko looked directly into his large eyes. She didn't have an accurate definition to describe him: an android, biosynthetic being, or a genetically modified clone. In any case, whichever it was, he appeared profoundly human.
“If we modify our speed, how long will it take us to get there?” For her, every extra day on that ship, immersed in the uncertainty of the future, just added to what was becoming an unbearable torture.
“Five, six weeks. It depends on whether we're able to push our engines to the maximum.”
“Okay,” said the Japanese woman with a forced smile. “After being afraid of spending an eternity in here, or even dying, six weeks is nothing.” She and the Taahrian began to get lost in each other's eyes, each immersed in his or her own thoughts. Although intent, they didn't stay like that for long: the steps of a C6 unit roused them.
“First Officer,” the android said to attract his attention.
“Tell me.”
“A message is arriving.”
“A message?” Namiko felt a chill.
“Well, tell me what it is,” Eldgh ordered.
“Not possible.”
“Why is that?”
“The message can only be accessed from the bridge and heard after receipt of biometric recognition.”
The First Officer swore in his language, then looked at Namiko. “What if it's a trap?”
“I don't think so,” the woman replied.
“Why is that?”
“If they had discovered us, there wouldn't be so much subterfuge. I think they would've opted for the direct approach.”
“Their thinking may be more complex than we suspected.”
“From what the C6 told us, I have the impression that whoever the sender may be, he wants to make sure that correct recipient is notified.”
“Someone who wants to make sure that I have control of the Alpha Orionis.”
“First Officer,” the android interrupted. “The instructions for notice of the message will be erased from my memory in ten runije.”
“Ten runije?” Namiko asked, trying to understand the unknown unit of measure.
“About thirty seconds,” the Taahrian explained.
“This confirms that only you should know about it.”
“May I remind you that he told me in your presence.”
“I'm a human. In all likelihood, the sender doesn't know that I'm on board.”
“That's right! Let's go listen to that damned message.”
So, at this point, even if they've discovered us, they can't stop our plans. At most, they'll be waiting for us at the gate; but, with our firepower, we'll wipe them out.”
Namiko didn't know if that assertion, ever so bold, corresponded to a sincere belief, or if was just intended to instill her with courage.
As they walked towards the bridge, Eldgh told her of his fears regarding the methods of concealment he had employed. As careful as they had been, it still might not be enough to guarantee that the transfer of simulated data would fool the Ikalians. Even though, against all odds, it had worked until now.
Arriving at the command post on the bridge, they noted a holographic icon flashing, which indicated that a subspace message was waiting.
“There it is!” Namiko pointed.
“Yes, but I still don't know how to proceed with the biometric scan.”
“Maybe you have to do it in the infirmary.”
The First Officer wasn't paying attention. As he got closer to the icon, he put his finger on it. A voice rang out in the Taahrian language. Eldgh listened intently, then moved towards the console.
“What are you doing?” Namiko asked, furious with herself for not having brought a translator.
“I'm following the instructions to initiate the biometric scan.”
“This means that you and the other Taahrians aren't clones.”
“That's not true. It's sufficient that our processors, or our bodies in general, have unique markers for the various species.”
“In any case, you're a unique being.”
Eldgh didn't reply and Namiko decided not to pursue the issue.
Having manipulated the control console and interfaced with the holographic screen, the First Officer was able to begin the biometric scanning process.
A beam of light suddenly lit up the entire console. It was a quick process, which to Namiko's eyes seemed like a flash.
In an instant, the same voice which had rung out when he touched the icon began to converse with Eldgh.
Namiko watched the scene for what seemed an endless period of time. She saw every possible emotion cross the Taahrian's face. She tried to interrupt several times, to ask the computer to translate so that she could understand what was happening, but her every attempt was ignored, as if she was alone on that damned bridge. When she realized that there was no way to get anything out of the event, she decided to wait there in silence. She watched closely as the wonder and the fervor which had characterized the first part of that surreal conversation gradually turned to what Namiko thought was satisfaction.
When the communication ended, Eldgh turned to the Terrestrial, and with a grimace of pleasure, he said: “That was an Ikalian, located on Earth. He's part of a resistance movement that's trying to stop the empire.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Of course, because he's the explanation for everything that's happened.”
“I don't understand.”
“He was the one who deactivated my chip.”
“Incredible.”
“And it was he who fixed things so that no one on Ikali knows what's happening on board this ship.”
“Are you telling me that we've been unknowing protagonists in the resistance movement's sabotage operation?”
“Exactly. Obviously you weren't expected to take part. His scan of the bridge revealed the presence of an alien being. We risked being unable to initiate communication; but, fortunately for us, he accepted the situation.”
“Was he upset when he learned that I was here?”
“He was annoyed at first, but then he understood.”
“The conversation took a long time. What else did he tell you?”
“He's sending us all the specifications to wake the o
thers.”
“Every single Taahrian?”
“Exactly. So that they don't suffer any damage, and, above all, so that they're no longer subjected to neural control.”
“That's wonderful, if it's true!”
“He's sending us specialized military instructions. It must be true!”
“Did you tell him about our plan?”
“Yes. He's in complete agreement. And, thanks to him, we'll be operating at maximum efficiency.”
“I never would've expected it,” she said smiling, shaking her head. “An Ikalian that's doing all of this. Incredible!”
“I know. His name is Xnoris.”
39
Pristh hadn't followed the fate of other planets that had been conquered by the Ikalians. The Prrism'aarth's armed opposition had led to an all-out war which had derailed the strategy of conquest developed by Hatmnal. The empire hadn't needed to follow up by lavishing them with massive reconstruction efforts or implementing devious plans. It had taken Pristh by brute force. There were eighteen large urban conglomerations; the rest of the planet was desert terrain, interrupted by a few green oases, and a blue sky similar to that of Blue C.
Over several generations, the mental submission of the original survivors had been transformed into a cultural subordination. Yet, even in a social context that extreme, secret societies were born and flourished among the Prrism'aarth ranks. These were responsible for handing down the stories of their origin, their traditions, and, however complicated, the scientific achievements they had achieved, so that they would never forget who they were. Many of these societies had been identified and destroyed over time. They nevertheless continued to appear and to organize in the hopes of finding a way to rid themselves of their oppressors. For millennia, every idea had gone down in flames, until a representative of an Ikalian group, known as the Mtjugiaankh, had contacted one of the better organized societies.
“How can we believe you?” asked Quarkban, a Prrism'aarth biologist and Freemason.
“I don't think you have a choice. You've been trying for three thousand years and yet...” said Vorxzion, a representative of the Ikalian resistance on Pristh.
Live or Die Trilogy Page 25