The Martian Viking

by Tim Sullivan

  But Johnsmith had no shield. Perhaps armor was not the order of the day at Elysium. Why should it be, when prisoners were readily available? The dregs of Earth's full employment economy would never run out, so long as things continued as they were. As a result, the draftees on Mars were readily expendable, and minimal protection was afforded them.

  Protection against whom? At least Johnsmith knew they—the Arkies—were human now, which is more than he had known ten minutes ago . . .if the battle had lasted that long.

  "Come on," Angel Torquemada ordered them from somewhere in the darkness. "Do you think we've got all night?"

  Johnsmith and the others made their way back to the compound through the darkness.

  In the morning, after a short exercise period, they were ordered to go to an underground meeting room. It was a larger chamber than Johnsmith, Felicia, and Alderdice had been taken to before. In fact, all the prisoners were assembled, along with Sergeant Daiv. Even Prudy was there, sitting in the front row and wearing a dour expression. Torquemada stood at the podium.

  "We lost three people last night," he said. "One of them was the Captain of the Interplan ship, who was about to leave Mars. He and his crewmate probably shouldn't have fought, but they did. We're grateful, but now the ship is stuck here until the Conglom can figure out what to do about it. Most likely, they'll dispatch a pilot from the polar region to fly it out of here, but if they have a shortage, they'll have to bring somebody in from the Belt, or even from Luna. It could take months."

  Johnsmith didn't really care what happened to the Interplan ship. He wanted to know who had been shooting at them, and who was dead, and what had happened to Captain Hi. As Angel Torquemada droned on, he began to suspect that such explanations were not on this morning's agenda. Johnsmith felt somewhat cross. It had been all but impossible to fall asleep after the skirmish last night, and he feared that the entire day would drag interminably, with this evasive lecture serving as an appropriately vague starting point.

  "Who were those people we fought last night?" A voice rose out of the assembled prisoners. It was Felicia, a fact that made Johnsmith very nervous. Torquemada was not likely to appreciate her unauthorized sense of curiosity.

  "I'll tell you who they were," Angel Torquemada responded, surprising everyone in the room. There was a breathless moment before he finished: "They were the people who want to kill you."

  Somebody laughed, but Felicia was undeterred by Torquemada's snide answer. Without hesitation, she said, "And why do they want to kill us? What have we done to them?

  "Never mind all that," Torquemada said. "Just remember that these are the people who want to kill you."

  "But what do they want to kill us for?" demanded Felicia. "A bunch of fucking onees?"

  "Burst," said Angel Torquemada with chilling authority, "shut up and sit down."

  She was livid, and she glared at him for a few seconds, but she slowly did as she was told and sat down.

  After that, the briefing went as if nothing extraordinary had happened. Within five minutes, they were back in the training area. While they were waiting for Sergeant Daiv, they discussed the possible purpose of the meeting.

  "It was as if Torquemada was saying that this is business as usual," said Alderdice.

  "That's right," said Frankie Lee Wisbar. "It is business as usual around here."

  "But why? Do they just want onees?"

  "Apparently. Torquemada doesn't really tell us why they want them, but they do want onees."

  "But how do they live? And where?"

  Frankie shrugged. "Somewhere outside."

  Felicia started to ask another question, but Sergeant Daiv's bellowing voice cut her off. It was time for martial arts training, he said, not for talking. There was no arguing with Sergeant Daiv, of course, but Johnsmith knew that the issue was not dead. The dialogue resumed during their meals, and, though their gymnasium activities precluded such talk, continued in the quiet moments before they went to sleep at night.

  Johnsmith was losing track of time. The onee sessions had become quite boring by now. There was a sameness to the hallucinations that he had not anticipated. There seemed to be three main types of experience: fearful, erotic, and violent. He had enjoyed all of them at the beginning, but now he welcomed them only as a respite from the monotony of his training.

  Furthermore, Angel Torquemada seemed increasingly disappointed as Johnsmith and Alderdice reported the results of their onee adventures. He revealed nothing to them, however; the purpose of the Conglom's interest in their psychedelic voyages was left unstated. Johnsmith dutifully clutched an onee every morning and every afternoon, until Torquemada made an announcement that changed everything.

  "Beginning tomorrow morning, Burst," he said one evening as he stood in the barracks doorway, and the red dust swirled and snapped viciously outside the compound, "you'll take onees."

  Felicia, who had been staring at the wall, turned her head slowly. "What did you say?"

  "Onees." Torquemada said. "Tomorrow morning."

  Felicia had been less and less vociferous since the morning she had been told to sit down and shut up. She had become so despondent that she hardly spoke at all now. And yet, she did say something, mumbling so incoherently that Torquemada had to ask her to repeat herself: "What did you say, Burst?"

  "I said okay," Felicia murmured.

  Torquemada seemed a little surprised, for once. He looked at her intently for a moment, and then nodded. He marked something down in his notebook and walked out of the barracks.

  Johnsmith, who had been lying in bed, said, "Felicia, are you all right?"

  "Sure," she said, but her tone was dead. She clearly didn't want to discuss it any further.

  "But you never wanted to take onees before," Johnsmith persisted. "What made you change your mind?"

  "You heard the man," Felicia chided him. "What choice did he give me?"

  "According to the Conglom Interplanetary Charter," Alderdice said, his voice muffled as a result of his face being buried in a pillow, "you don't have to follow any orders that violate the law. In fact, it's your duty to—"

  "Bullshit," Felicia said. "I don't have any recourse. Torquemada has made my life miserable enough since I came here. I don't want to antagonize him any more."

  Johnsmith was somewhat nonplussed to hear her say this. He had never noticed Torquemada singling her out for punishment. Perhaps the loneliness and danger of their existence was getting to her at last. Felicia had always seemed so tough, though. If she was cracking, then Johnsmith couldn't be far behind. Maybe he had already cracked. It was entirely possible that his acceptance of this hideous existence was evidence of psychosis.

  "Felicia," he said, as if he were somebody else altogether, "why don't you let me sleep with you?"

  She turned her face toward him, and he saw in the dimming light that her face was stained with tears. She gestured for him to come to her, and said, "Please."

  TEN

  "I WAS WITH you, Johnsmith," Felicia said with something approaching wonder. "I was with you all the time I was holding the onee."

  "Just a hallucination," Johnsmith said, as he sat facing her in the featureless observation room. But his heartbeat made itself known, despite his dismissal of her comments.

  "But it was so real." She smiled at him, wide-eyed and radiant.

  He didn't protest any further. She was happier than he'd ever seen her before, and that was worth something to him. He didn't even mind Angel Torquemada, who hovered in the background and jotted down her reactions.

  Only Alderdice seemed to object, his jowls quivering as he shook his head indignantly, after Torquemada had left the room. "He shouldn't have made her do this."

  "Oh, Alderdice," Felicia made a shooing gesture with her right hand. "What possible difference could it make? I'm glad I handled the onee."

  "But why does it please you, Felicia?" Alderdice stood and came nearer to her.

  For a moment, it seemed as though she wouldn't
answer, but then she looked right at him and smiled. "Because I got so close to Johnsmith."

  This was not a reply Johnsmith had anticipated, and he flushed with embarrassment. Still, he was glad Felicia had admitted what he had suspected for quite some time. He felt something for her, too, though he hadn't told her about it for fear of rejection.

  "I only hope that you love me as much as I love you," Felicia said, transfixing him with her dark-eyed gaze. She said this with unabashed sincerity.

  It was clear that she expected Johnsmith to say something, but he didn't know exactly what it was. Should he thank her . . .or tell her that he loved her . . .? He found his mouth working, as if it had a life of its own. "I think I do," he said at last. "I mean, I think I love you, too."

  They looked at each other for a few seconds, and Johnsmith heard deep laughter erupt behind them. He turned to see Alderdice, tears streaming down his cheeks as he wheezed with pleasure.

  "What's so funny?" Felicia demanded, showing some of her old fire.

  "No, I don't mean to say that it's funny," Alderdice said, his body shaking with mirth. "It's wonderful. It's so wonderful, and so unexpected that it caught me completely off guard."

  Johnsmith grinned, and even Felicia softened a little. It was somehow touching to see this big man laughing with sheer joy at their declarations of love.

  "You've changed, Felicia," Alderdice said, "but for the better. I had begun to doubt that you're capable of such profound human qualities as you've shown us this morning."

  "I don't give a shit what you doubt," Felicia snapped. "Who asked you, anyway?"

  "Felicia," Johnsmith said, interrupting Alderdice's sputtering response, "don't blame Alderdice for being undiplomatic. I'm sure it's just one of his training implants acting up. He really can't help it. Motherhood and the Conglom, and all that, you know."

  "Is that true?" Felicia asked suspiciously.

  "Well, yes," Alderdice said, "such responses are triggered by the mention of certain subjects. Monogamy is one of them."

  "But you're gay," Felicia said. "How can you be gay and believe in monogamy?"

  Alderdice drew himself up to his full height. "My dear Felicia," he said with great dignity, "I never once cheated on my husband."

  Felicia pursed her lips, and her cheeks puffed out with suppressed laughter. She couldn't hold it in, though. In a moment, she and Johnsmith were doubled over, tears streaming down their cheeks.

  Alderdice looked forlorn for a few seconds, and then he laughed as heartily as before.

  At that moment, Angel Torquemada returned, breaking up the fun. "Just what did you and Johnsmith Biberkopf do while you were under the onee's influence, Ms. Burst?" he demanded to know.

  "We swam," Felicia said.

  "Is that all?"

  "No, we saw a ship."

  For once, Johnsmith thought that Torquemada showed some expression—a heightened interest, which his next question confirmed. "A ship, you say?"

  "Yes, a ship."

  "A spacecraft?" Torquemada leaned forward, no longer taking notes.

  "No, a sailing ship. Very old style, with a big square sail and oars."

  "Oars." This was a statement, rather than a question, but Felicia apparently didn't hear it that way.

  "Yes, dozens of oars, and these round shields hanging on the sides of the ship."

  Johnsmith would have thought little of this, even though she described his first onee hallucination precisely. After all, they had all indulged in technological schizophrenia, prepackaged surrealism. Why should he be surprised at the sameness of their visions? What caught his attention was the keen interest that Angel Torquemada evinced. This waking dream about the Viking, or Geatish, ship was really important to their commanding officer for some reason. Johnsmith wanted to know why.

  "It was beautiful," Felicia said. "Scary, too, but I didn't care. I was happy, just floating in the water there with Johnsmith. In fact, I don't think I've ever been happier in my life."

  "It's wonderful," Alderdice said, his tone barely above a whisper. He did not sound quite so sure as before, though, in spite of what he was saying. "Just wonderful."

  "Was anyone aboard the ship?" Torquemada asked, paying no attention to Alderdice.

  "Yeah. At first I couldn't see them all that well, but they came closer after a little bit. And then I got a pretty good look at them. They were these guys in helmets and furs and stuff . . .and they had these round shields."

  "Did they have any contact with you?" Torquemada asked. "Did they speak?"

  "Among themselves," Felicia said, "but I couldn't understand their language—and they turned the ship around and started moving toward us."

  This was too close to Johnsmith's memory of his first onee experience. If she said next that an oar was extended to fish them out of the water . . .

  "Archecoding," Alderdice said.

  "What?" Felicia asked.

  "Archecoding. The coding of archetypal patterns on the onee's electronic discharge."

  "Well, what about it?" Johnsmith demanded, noticing how keenly Angel Torquemada watched all three of them. "Aren't they all archecoded?"

  "Well, yes, but this is the same pattern I got from using your onees on the Interplan ship, don't you see?"

  "No, I don't see. What possible difference can any of this make?"

  "Felicia was given an onee that was just machined yesterday. I saw Mr. Torquemada shake it out of its container. Nobody has ever used it before."

  Now Johnsmith was beginning to see what all the fuss was about. They were guinea pigs, testing onees to find a certain pattern, a pattern that produced the Viking ship hallucination. But why was it so important to the government to find these particular onees? Johnsmith looked toward Angel Torquemada, unrealistically hoping for some help with his unasked question.

  "That's all for today," Torquemada said abruptly. "You can go to breakfast."

  For the first time since he had been on Mars, Johnsmith was sorry to have Torquemada dismiss them. He was certain that they had hit upon something significant, and he wanted to know precisely what it was.

  Felicia seemed somewhat confused, as if she didn't quite know what to do next, and so he took her by the hand to lead her to the mess hall. On the way they passed several people, all of whom acted as if everything were perfectly normal. Frankie Lee Wisbar was among those who cheerfully greeted them in passing.

  "My implants are not as effective as they once were," said Alderdice, walking backwards in front of them, in order to face them. "I couldn't have even told you about archecoding a few months ago. But the whole safeguard system in my brain has been undercut by the attitude toward onees away from Earth. It's wonderful."

  "You've been set free," Johnsmith said.

  "Not really," Alderdice replied, frowning. "Most of my programming seems as powerful as ever. It's just the more ambiguous legal points that seem to be affected."

  "Maybe it will all wear away in time," Felicia said, "and you'll feel as good as I do."

  As they got their food and found a table, Johnsmith reflected on Felicia's transformation. He was quite troubled, even though the conventional wisdom had it that onees couldn't permanently harm the nervous system. Still, something had happened to her mind. He hoped that it was merely an outflowing of pent-up emotion, and not brain damage. He couldn't bear to think of her turning into a vegetable.

  "Are you . . .all right, Felicia?" he asked.

  "It was just so perfect," she said. "I never felt this way in my whole life."

  Clearly, onees had a more profound effect on some people than on others.

  "I was with you, Johnsmith," she said, gazing at him adoringly. "I was with you in another world."

  "But it was only a world of the mind," Johnsmith reminded her.

  Felicia looked as though she would cry.

  "It was good that we were together there," Johnsmith quickly added. "I mean, I'm glad that we were there."

  Chewing a mouthful of food with gusto,
Alderdice said, "I don't understand how the onee got here."

  "How the onee got here?" Johnsmith repeated. "Isn't obvious? It was manufactured in a building, not two hundred yards from where we're sitting."

  "Maybe," Alderdice said, swallowing, "and maybe not. Don't you think that there is some control exercised over the product turned out here at Elysium?"

  "I don't know, but the Conglom wants something from us, and this is the only thing that Torquemada has raised an eyebrow about, up to now."

  "Well, I don't think any of that matters," Felicia said. "We swam through water that constantly changed color as it swirled around us, and a beautiful ship sailed through the mist. We were like two bodies with the same spirit. It was wonderful."

  Alderdice attempted to smile, but the pronouncements of love had to be wearing thin even with him by this time. Or perhaps he recalled the same imagery from his onee tripping; if this were the case, he might not mind at all, Johnsmith supposed.

  "Was the enemy trying to get their hands on archecoded onees?" Alderdice asked suddenly. "Was that what they were after, do you think?"

  "For what purpose?"

  "I don't know, but if the government is so interested in them, maybe those outlaws—whoever they are—want them for the same reason."

  "But what is that reason?" Felicia asked. "And what's the big deal, anyway? Who cares what they want it for? It's probably just one more thing they plan to use to enslave the masses."

  "Well, it sure works well, doesn't it?" Johnsmith said, raising his eyebrows at her. "If your enjoyment of them is any indication, that is."

  Felicia was crestfallen. "Please don't say things to hurt me like that," she said. "I've opened my heart to you, Johnsmith, and now you're cutting me to the bone."