Prototype: The Lost and Forgotten Series

by Robert Gallagher

  “Affirmative, Sam.”

  The sense of time within cryosleep is pretty much zero, so as soon as I lose consciousness, I’m waking up again. A restful sleep it is not, but I know I have been in cryo because my vision is blurry, my mouth is dry, and I feel like I need food and water and a lot of it.

  “Status report,” I say with a slight cough, the now familiar feeling of nausea starting to return.

  “Passive scans would suggest we have arrived at the inner worlds’ main hub. It would seem they wish to interrogate the contractors before releasing them back to their home world.”

  “Annoying but not completely unexpected. Try and break away from the transport as soon as it’s safe to do so. How hidden are we?”

  “Inner-world security currently has no protocols for detecting or searching for this new type of vessel, so we do have a small window of escape.”

  “Good. Let’s hope our luck holds. Drift in close to the quantum gateway hub, and scan outgoing ships. Look for destinations to Earth or Mars—in fact, any of the sol system colonies.”

  “Affirmative, Sam.”

  I go back to the galley and look for something to drink and maybe something I can hold down for a bit. Spotting the medical symbol, I scan for nausea tablets or shots, and with a positive beep, a one-shot hypo injection needle is deposited. Minutes later I feel better than I have for what seems like days, and I show my appreciation for this by stuffing myself silly.

  “Sam, I’ve detected an Earth federation cruiser heading for the gate. Comms chatter would suggest it’s heading to the sol system. What are your orders?”

  “Sounds good. Drift and play ‘you can’t see me,’ and when it passes by, get in close and match speed and heading. Once we get through the gate, try and retain proximity and match its vector. It should take us directly to Earth, but we don’t want to leave warp at the same location. Can this ship drop out through the wake of another ship without being harmed?”

  “It’s feasible, Sam, just not been done before.”

  “Just take it easy then, and we will find out together if it’s possible.”

  “Affirmative, Sam. Heading in.”

  The trip takes longer than expected, as we visit several colonies on the way, and we arrive back on Earth two weeks later. The antinausea jabs have been amazingly effective, saving me from two weeks in cryo. I spent that time exploring the ship, which is surprisingly not much to see. The cargo hangar is modifiable and can be converted for various purposes. Each of the cryopods can be ejected and act like a life pod if a disaster strikes.

  With power cells at maximum capacity, we head down to my own private hangar. It’s not much, but it’s off the books, and it’s pretty close to a favorite restaurant of mine.

  “Well, ship, it’s been lovely, but I’m going to head out for a few days. I need to get a proper meal and a good sleep before I decide what to do with you. We can sort out this scanning issue another day.”

  “It’s no problem, Sam. I’ve been mapping you since we left. It would be quicker if you could remain still, but with the bionanites I injected into you while you were in cryo, I can continue to scan you from orbit if needed.”

  “Hey, what? I did not ask you to do that.”

  “Well, maybe not directly, but you did ask me to start scanning you, and I took that as a command and permission.”

  Too tired to argue, I head for the exit. “Fine, then. You are pretty pointless, considering I can’t even use the majority of your system until I’m scanned. Maybe when I retire in around thirty years, you might be useful.”

  “When the time comes, Sam, I will enjoy knowing you more. Preliminary scans show that your mind is rather unique in the way you assimilate information and work through complex problems. I believe we would have been an excellent mind together.”

  “What do you mean we would have been?” I say, hearing the past tense and stopping in my tracks.

  “Sadly, this procedure is supposed to be completed before the adult male has reached his thirtieth birth date—any older, and the neural mapping process and melding of the two minds might prove too much for the human brain to cope with. I’m sorry to inform you, Sam, but you might not survive the process.”

  Hearing this news seems to add a rather expensive, pointless cherry to the top of this far too risky project. Sighing, I reply, “I’m off for some real food. Don’t do anything I would not do, and feel free to send me a message if you have any updates. You might as well continue for now, and we can talk more later and decide what we can do. See you around.”

  It only took the authorities three hours to find Sam after an anonymous tipoff. Later, when the Planetary Enforcement Agency raided Sam’s hangar, they found no sign of the prototype.

  10

  Unfinished Business

  Facility Zero, 271 days online: federation year 2435

  Abs stares down at Dr. Zorn, unable to say or do anything for a few moments after hearing the doctor’s last words, “He’s the angel of death, and he created the freakers.” Most people would react by laughing or ridiculing the one who had said that, but oddly it just made sense; it did not surprise her in the least. What does surprise her is what she says next.

  “Was he the one flying the pod?”

  Dr. Zorn smiles and replies, “Yes. He was rather upset about my deception.”

  “I bet he was, but why did he let you go?”

  “It was the deal I made with him to build the pod, and I did. The poor guys who helped with the heavy lifting were just loose ends.”

  “Ah yes, we did find them eventually, and we had pretty much worked out who was responsible, but the pod exploding and trying to work out who was flying it added to the confusion.”

  “Samael surviving the pod’s destruction was the evidence he was telling the truth,” Dr. Zorn adds and then starts to cough.

  “What did he tell you, Doctor?” Abs crouches down as the doctor continues.

  “When we first met, he introduced himself as Samael. He befriended me at the start, but as I got nearer to the pod’s completion, he told me more of his past, until I realized he must never be freed.” The doctor coughs and closes his eyes for a moment.

  “Dr. Zorn, what do you mean he must not be freed?”

  Opening his eyes once more, the doctor replies, “This place is not just our prison; the black hole is his prison. We might have created the facility to imprison our guilty, but God created the black hole in the first place to imprison his, and not just here, everywhere. I suspect all black holes contain angels.” Dr. Zorn stops as another series of coughing fits takes over.

  Abs, having heard enough for now, steps away and turns back toward Carter. “Can we not do anything for him? He is very important.”

  Carter lets out a long sigh. “I wish I could, but I need to save our remaining resources for the ones that can fight.”

  Before Abs can object, the dining hall lights dim and then return to their normal illuminations but brighter than before, followed by a system announcement: “Level-one quarantine protocol has been lifted. Access permissions reinstated.”

  “Well, that’s good news at least.” Abs then addresses the system. “System, what is the status of the food and water dispensers?”

  There is a slight pause and then a reply. “Water dispensers are now working at 60 percent, but food dispensers are currently empty and require kitchen staff.”

  Abs listens to the reply before turning back to Carter. “Right, we need to get water to the injured and then try and feed some of our weakest with what remaining food we have left. With luck we should all be able to get out of here.”

  This time it’s Carter who is about to protest, when another voice calls out.

  “Jessica, can you hear me? It’s Alistair Brookes!”

  “Yes, Professor, I can. What is happening? Where’s Sam?” Abs replies as others in the room stir and look around with expressions of hope where none had been for weeks.

  “Sam was heading down to th
e elevators to see why they are stuck, but I’ve not heard anything from him in a while. I have also removed the walls to level two at the shaft, so you should be able to climb back. How is your situation?”

  “Mostly we are all okay, but we have injured…and, Professor, Dr. Zorn is here.” Abs waits for a reply, knowing that this piece of information will have an effect. She does not have to wait long.

  The professor replies in frantic shock. “How can that be? I saw his pod explode. My God, it can’t be true.” After a pause, Brookes continues, “How is he?”

  “He’s in a bad way, but if we can get to medical, he might pull through. I’m really not sure, Professor. He’s been telling me some worrying things. We will need to talk about this face to face.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, I understand. So in the meantime, ask the system to take you to the main elevator to security, and a corridor should take you there. Hopefully Sam will already be there. Good luck, Jessica, but I need to arrange a few things. I’ll be in touch.” There is an audible click and then silence.

  “Professor?” Abs lets out a sigh and regards Carter. “Feed the weak! Get them on their feet, make stretchers if need be, but we are all getting out of here.” Not waiting for a reply, she heads for the barricade.

  Carter watches Jessica walk away. He understands her order and knows that it will be pointless to argue back. He knows this is a risk, all or nothing, but he had experience with the likes of Jessica back in the day. Then looking at the injured for a moment, he calls over one of the defenders. “Get the rest of the supplies and assemble the others. We are getting out of here.”

  What the heck? How can this be possible? Sam thinks to himself. It’s only been a matter of a few months since I left Arden or Sam or Phantom or whatever the core AI was calling itself. “You said it would take up to thirty years to map my brain,” Sam replies to the voice in his head.

  The voice’s reply is instant: “That’s correct, and I’m pleased to say it’s been completed much earlier than I had hoped for. Fourteen years, two months, six days, eight hours, nine minutes, and twenty-two seconds. I would very much doubt you would need the exact duration, but anyway, it’s done. If you are ready, should we begin?”

  Sam, feeling a little frustrated, says, “Begin what, exactly? I am a bit vague what all this entails, and how are we talking to each other in the first place? I do not have my hacker drones. And more importantly, where the hell are you?”

  The voice inside Sam’s head sighs and then replies, “The neural mapping process maps your neural cortex. The core AI effectively becomes you, and the bionanites have altered your cortex so we can telepathically talk to each other once the mapping has been completed. I did not talk to you before, as your last orders stated to get a message to you with any updates and we would discuss what to do later. Well, it is later now, and I have sent you the update. And do you realize you can be very annoying sometimes? To answer your other question, where am I, I’m just outside of the influence of the black hole monitoring comms chatter while I talk to you. Your first question is a little more complex to explain—far easier to show—but currently I’m talking to you. We are not sharing our thoughts and consciousness; once we do, then you will have a better understanding of what this is all about.”

  “Okay, that sounds reasonable, but if you are a perfect copy of my brain, why are you sounding female?”

  The reply again is instant: “Good question. That’s rather interesting and a bit complex. It’s all sort of to do with the nature-nurture argument, but as I’ve not had any environmental influences, and this time I’ve not had a team of excited scientists poking and prodding me, it’s been up to me to choose a gender identity. When a male or female brain develops, it has a few pointers to go by. Your brain, as it turns out, is rather unique and complex. During normal human development, identification with one gender or another is determined by several factors, including hormones, anatomy, genes, chromosomes, gonads, and psyche. I determined that you could have developed either way, and as such, I decided to be female. Being female does come with a few benefits, including social interactions with others being generally more favorable than if I presented as a male. As another example, I now understand why two of your previous relationships failed. Would you like to know why?”

  All this explanation seems to flow into Sam’s mind like a stream of knowledge. How long this sharing of information takes Sam isn’t sure, but one thing he is 100 percent very sure about is his reply: “I’m not about to take relationship advice from my ship, even if you are a female copy of me, especially when I’m stuck on a creepy-arse facility hell-bent on killing me. Besides, what it sounds like to me is that you just arbitrarily chose to be female.”

  “Pretty much, yes. Shall we begin?”

  The waking nightmare of being taken to a place like this just seemed to have crossed an invisible line to one of a surreal nightmare. “Were you just yanking my chain about my previous relationships? Wait, hang on—don’t answer that. And, yes, let’s just get this over with, please. Let’s begin.”

  One moment Sam is standing inside the elevator, and the next he is floating weightlessly in space. His visual cortex, limited by his brain and eyes, suddenly expands to an incomprehensible amount of information of every spectrum and beyond. His own restricted consciousness is enlightened and merges with the ship’s consciousness. The sharing of information is instantaneous.

  Lastly, both Sams’ perspectives of relative time as the observer and the participant at the same are too much for the human Sam’s brain to comprehend, and while the two minds are merged, what human Sam experiences is also shared with the Phantom Sam. The result is that both Sams start to vomit. Moments later, the two minds separate as the merging is deactivated, leaving human Sam throwing up the contents of his stomach, with the sound of the Phantom Sam’s dry heaving inside his mind.

  Somehow the real Sam is able to speak first, after what seems like just a few minutes. “Please, let’s not try that again while I’m stuck here.”

  “Well, I should have expected that, but I agree. Also, I’m not overly fond of dry heaving, and for that matter, have you ever seen a ship trying to throw up? It’s embarrassing, not to mention it raises my thermal signature, which, by the way, is really bad.”

  Sam stands up and wipes the vomit from his mouth, the knowledge that was shared with him during the merging already starting to slip away. His mind is unable to retain all that he had just learned, but the parts he can remember are enough. Now he knows how he can escape this place. “Keep me informed about that craft. I need to know the moment it arrives,” Sam replies.

  “Understood, and I also need to move. The cryostation’s patrol is heading my way,” Phantom Sam says and is gone.

  “Sam, can you hear me? It’s Professor Brookes. Sam!”

  “Yes, Professor, I can. What’s the problem?”

  “I’ve been trying to contact you for the past hour, but the system says you were just standing in the elevator motionless. You were not responding to my calls.”

  Shocked at first regarding his missing time and then realizing that the discrepancy for the lost hour must be due to being merged to the outside world, even for such a short time, Sam says, “Oh, yes…sorry, Professor, I had to think about something, and I must have zoned out. What’s the problem?”

  “Well, at first I was trying to reach you regarding the status of the elevators—level one is inaccessible due to some kind of blockage—but in that time, I’ve reached Jessica and informed her of the plan. She will try and meet you at the shaft. And lastly, I’ve removed the walls around the shaft and level two, so you should be able to clear whatever is blocking access.”

  “Thanks, Professor. I’ll let you know what I find. Sam out.”

  Although the power is up and the walls of the facility are functioning correctly, Bill and Jimmy are still near their posts. Jimmy seems to be entertaining himself by holding Bill in an armlock while Bill wails out his protest.


  “Stop your blabbering, you little girl. It isn’t hurting you none.” Jimmy laughs as he leads Bill around and applies more pressure to produce more painful protests. Jimmy looks up, seeing the new girl approach. “Hey there, hot stuff. Come to see what a real man looks like?”

  Abs rolls her eyes before replying, “Yes, that’s right, Jimmy, so feel free to let me know when you see one.”

  Jimmy looks confused for a second before realizing what Abs meant. He releases Bill, who falls to the floor nursing his arm as Jimmy faces up toward Abs. “You got a smart mouth on you, girl!”

  Abs stops, seeing the big man flex his muscles and turn to face her. “Well, things are looking up. You’re smart enough to understand what intelligence looks like, and there I was thinking you were just a dumb bully.”

  Jimmy the Fist then clenches both of his and charges toward Abs, bellowing out his anger and causing the others in the room to stop what they are doing and watch the outcome.

  Abs, with her knife already in hand, throws it hilt first toward Jimmy’s head. A moment later it makes contact with a painful thud, making a nasty-looking split as blood starts to pour. That stops the big man in his tracks as his hands go to his forehead, his anger increasing as Abs calmly approaches. Jimmy swings wildly as blood streams down his face, obscuring his vision. Abs moves in and ducks his blow with ease. She then jabs her hand toward Jimmy’s throat, connecting hard. The result is immediate as Jimmy falls to the ground choking and gasping for air.

  Abs kneels down beside the choking Jimmy. “Let’s get things straight between us. I do not like bullies, and even when I loved my job within the Orbital Assault Force, I understood the penalty when I floored my commanding officer in a similar way. He was also a dick. So take this as your final warning. Lay a hand on anyone like this again, and it won’t be the blunt end that I throw next time.”