Bruce had questioned the real motives of the Transcendents many times, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find he was dealing with just one group of a wider community which had wildly conflicting views and expectations. This speculation didn’t ultimately matter: there was no chance the Transcendents he dealt with would change their requirements, or their chosen course of action and he always liked to think he had some influence on the outcome.
He, Shelly Shaw, Dick, and General Smith had congratulated themselves on how they had engineered a much less intrusive uploading process. Instead of the indiscriminate hoovering up of people off the surface of the planet, there had been a carefully engineered plan in place to ensure most of humanity was unaware of what was really happening while the upload proceeded. Now he wasn’t so sure it was the right thing to do and wondered if they were far less influential than they liked to believe: mere pawns in a much bigger, complex game.
On reflection, he was no longer sure he trusted the Transcendents motives, if indeed he ever had. From his first interaction with Skid, he felt their relationship with him had been contrived and preconceived. Could it be from the first experience on the Skidian spaceship piloted by Myfair all the way through to the current day, his interactions with them had been carefully plotted? If that was true, he was at a loss to understand who benefited. It sounded like an unlikely conspiracy. But...
After all, who stood to benefit from the death of six hundred million indoSkidians?
Even though a group led by an exiled indoSkidian had infected the food production plants, the MPU had failed to alleviate the situation and was effectively culpable for the death of all those indoSkidians. Six hundred million people was an enormous number to kill off and now Bruce questioned whether this had ever been a real number. Was this massive die-off really the result of a bug in the AI or were there other factors at play? Bruce knew it was unlikely he would never know the truth, but there were far fewer indoSkidians around than there used to be.
Bruce was now a little unsure how to proceed. For a moment, he felt he had wasted his life over the past year or so by focusing on the upload program, forgetting all his other achievements. He also wondered whether in all conscience he could continue in his role of the Transcendents main human contact point.
After a little more reflection, he realised he was more concerned whether Dick, the General, and Shelly Shaw would look after the best interests of all Skidians, and humans, in the way he had tried to, if he wasn’t involved.
Bruce realised his conscience determined the best solution was for him to stay the course and help develop institutions on Skid aimed at allowing all Skidians a degree of autonomy and self-determination.
General Smith sat behind the desk in the Oval Office, Chump stood before him like a recalcitrant schoolboy.
“How many times have I explained this to you? Just because you are the President of the United States, it doesn’t give you a license to be a bully, push yourself to the front of the photo opportunities at meetings and block the view of the shorter people trying to get a picture. And put your silly handshake away. It looks undignified when you try and get one over on younger, stronger men.”
“But it is my signature handshake, I have used it for years,” Chump protested.
“It’s just childish and if we have to apologise to anyone else after you have pushed them out of the way then we are going to send your body double on the next trip. No more overseas junkets on Air Force One for you, if you don’t behave.”
Fourteen
Wisneski watched Stig and Bill pore over the series of schematics they had drawn up, based on what they had been able to determine about the architecture of the Books.
Somehow, they had got their hands on a spare. This was clever of them given there had been a supply glitch, and many newSkidians were still waiting for devices, with only their mobiles to fall back on. This was causing resentment in some quarters, some of the newSkidians felt they had been left out on purpose.
Stig was still convinced if he could hack into the Book’s inner workings and understand its structure, then it should be a simple matter to infiltrate the network all the devices were connected to. He would then be able to access and hopefully control the central AI managing Skid’s technical infrastructure, everything which moved on the planet, and possibly off it. He’d indicated this much to Wisneski, who was sceptical. And, with a bit of luck he would get access to a control centre as promised in a few days, though he wasn’t holding his breath over that possibility.
Wisneski, like Bruce, wasn’t convinced they were in complete control of their own destiny. He wasn't sure that taking control of the MPU would achieve anything. He speculated they could be in some form of suspended animation, while androids mimicked their daily lives in the same fashion as those already operating on Mars and the moon.
There were many things that didn’t seem to add up for Wisneski. For example, neither he nor Bruce could understand why the Transcendents had insisted on having real people on Mars and the moon when the androids were doing such an excellent job of mimicking the real settlers. They hadn’t needed the human settlers at all.
He’d spoken at length with Janice Chang and Robert Cameron on this subject, but they hadn’t been able to shed any light on the situation either.
“What do you hope to achieve if you do hack into the network? Wisneski asked.
Bill looked at Wisneski in surprise. “If we can hack into its operating system, then we are in control. Don’t you get it?”
Wisneski considered this statement for a moment. He knew enough about networks and servers to understand that hacking into them was only the first step. The system would be protected by various security measures: firewalls and other barriers would take time to crack. The semi-sentient MPU was developing and building new defences all the time. Or so he supposed, while a small voice suggested he shouldn’t take anything for granted. And ultimately the MPU was only one of the key systems operating on the planet.
“And then what?”
“I think we could then organise a process to open up a wormhole, or whatever the transit system is that brought us here. This should give us an opportunity to go home. This is my view anyway. Stig has other ideas.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to return home,” Stig explained, setting the Book he was working on aside. “There’s nothing for me back there any more, and I kind of like the idea of having an opportunity to build a new life here and be a part of developing a new civilisation from scratch. Maybe,” he added as an afterthought, “I would like the best of both worlds and maybe visit Earth from time to time, if it could be arranged.”
“He’s nuts,” Bill remarked, pointing his right-hand index finger at his head, and twirling in a circular motion. “I’m going home the minute we crack the code.”
Wisneski wondered why Bill was so hell bent on going home. He’d read Bill's file along with those of the rest of the newSkidians at The Farm. There wasn’t much for Bill back on Earth. Unlike Stig, he had no children to visit, and no close family. Wisneski didn’t dwell for too long on the fact his own kids were estranged from him, because his ex-wife heaped the blame on his shoulders for the failure of their marriage and the irrecoverable breakdown of her new relationship with his best friend and best man at his wedding. Former friend, Wisneski corrected himself.
Wisneski struggled to understand the logic behind his ex-wife’s rationale, and how she had managed to infect their children with the notion. They didn’t seem to understand why he wouldn’t take their mother back now she’d had her little fling.
“What is your role in all of this?” Bill asked. “I saw you at the MFY base in Australia from time to time. Were you part of the security team?”
“Sort of,” Wisneski replied evasively. He had overseen the security arrangements at the Australian base, amongst other duties.
Unlike Bill, Wisneski and many other MFYers had decided to find something useful to do and to keep themselves occupied on Skid.
Even Mitch was resigned to staying on Skid for the rest of his days, having accepted the double whammy that there would be no second coming of President Mitchell, and realising his family had moved on quite happily without him.
“What’s your plan?” Bill asked.
“I’m here for the duration,” Wisneski replied. He didn’t want to explain himself to these men. He could come and go as he pleased. “And I am trying to make sense of all of this,” he added, extending his arms wide.
Wisneski really needed to speak to Bruce, to see if he had any bright ideas about what the future held. But when they had last spoken, Bruce was unsure about what his own future held, let alone anyone else’s. Either that or he was just being a little cagey. Wisneski found this disconcerting because Bruce had been the driving force behind the re-population project. Quite often they had worked on other people’s initiatives, but Bruce had always been the one to provide the momentum and drive to get them underway.
Early on for example he had championed the concept of a lifeboat colony on Skid, a concept originally largely Shelly Shaw’s.
“What I’m planning to do in the short term is explore the planet a little, take one of the trucks on a road trip and rough it a bit, camp out under the stars and such.” Wisneski had a vague enough understanding of the planet’s geography to know the planet had several large continents and many decent sized islands he could travel to if he wished. “And just drive,” he continued, “and see what else is out there.” He knew Skid was roughly the same size as earth, and all but a handful of the indoSkidians had lived in vast cities so there might not be much to see, except the large subterranean industrial plants dotted around the planet. He was attracted by the prospect there were huge tracts he could explore without ever running into anyone. He could do without people for a while.
“But there aren’t any roads?”
“I’m not sure it matters much,” Wisneski replied. “I’m not planning a race.”
“What are you going to do?” Janice Chang asked. She, Robert and Zarif had joined the men around the table and had listened into the conversation.
“Some exploring.”
“I’ll come with you,” Janice announced, much to everyone’s surprise. She hadn’t told anyone about her immensely enjoyable jaunt across the surface of Mars. Wisneski’s trip could be a terrific opportunity to have a similar adventure on Skid and she didn’t want to miss out.
Robert thought about inviting himself along, but quickly realised he didn’t feature on Janice’s list of “men to spend time with”. After a brief hesitation, he decided to attempt to insinuate himself into Wisneski’s planned cross-country jaunt anyway.
“We could mount an expedition. We could be like the first explorers pushing their way into Africa or the Americas. Imagine that!” he began, desperately.
This wasn’t what Wisneski and Janice had in mind.
“No!” they both exclaimed simultaneously. “You’re free to do whatever you like,” Wisneski continued, “but I wasn’t planning on travelling with an entourage and mounting a major expedition.” He glanced at Janice. “Just maybe one or two other people,” he added lamely. The idea of having Janice along for company was an attractive one. He felt a surge of anticipation and tried not to look too excited at the prospect.
Wisneski’s response took the wind out of Robert’s sails. “Oh,” he said, embarrassed now Janice had made it clear she was going off with Wisneski and leaving him behind without a second thought. “I see.” Robert didn’t, really. He hadn’t seen this rather brutal termination of their relationship coming.
News of Janice’s imminent departure also devastated Zarif. He felt it like a kick in the guts. Deep down, he knew he had never been in the running for a romantic relationship with Janice and he would have been much better off finding someone else to focus his attention on. This epiphany wasn’t enough to prevent him from developing an immediate and unreasonable hatred of Wisneski and all he represented. He felt his burning resentment build inside him. He himself believe he had been casually rejected because of his race, his colour, and his religion. It didn’t occur to him Robert might feel more devastated because he had been in a long-term relationship with Janice and had been discarded with a greater degree of casual brutality.
None of this mattered to Zarif. All he could think about was how these people had exploited him, and he would have to take his revenge on the infidels to cleanse this world and purify it for the true believers. There were many people of his faith on the planet and he would search them out in the larger centres where most of the newSkidians had settled and begin his work to undermine and destroy the current regime. He would demand concessions to recognise his people’s right to worship and self-determination, or he would take direct action to achieve his goals.
A warm and pleasant tide flowed through his veins as a sedative was released into his bloodstream. He relaxed and went limp and asked himself what he had planned to accomplish when he had set out from home a few short weeks ago. While he pondered this question, all thoughts of jihad, violence, retribution, and revolution were extinguished from his consciousness.
Eventually, Zarif decided to go to the garden. The Garden was his happy place, where he felt he was contributing to the local community and felt safe and secure. Since he had discovered the garden, he had taken to hiding out there when he felt confused, and where he attempted to deal with his unrequited love for Janice. The only thing consoling him now was how she had also dumped her boyfriend or partner, or whatever term these godless westerners used to describe their men, the ones they lived with and weren’t formally married to. Zarif thought this served Robert right because he hadn’t made an honest woman of Janice. He couldn’t understand how they could cohabit without God striking them down, yet he secretly longed for a relationship along similar lines.
Working, or even just sitting in the shade of the only tree in the garden, was therapeutic for him. The garden was also the place where people looked to him for leadership and guidance, which was a new sensation for Zarif. This gave him a sense of belonging to the local community, one he was an integral part of, and where he had a valuable role to play. While he felt completely miserable half the time because of his unrequited love, he felt a sense of belonging that sustained him and helped him appreciate that life wasn’t all bad.
Initially he found it difficult to deal with the wealth of opportunity he was being offered. The world he came from was filled with hate and sectarian violence, and there was an inherent belief that people from his part of the world were inferior to white Europeans. In this new community, there was no evidence of any class or religious barrier, which both confused and excited him.
However, Zarif had desperately desired a relationship with Janice above everything else, even if he wasn’t sure what this entailed. Was it to marry in the traditional sense, for sexual gratification, or simply to own her? Whatever, his rationale was, he felt the hurt emotionally and physically. He was almost sick with a yearning he couldn’t explain, now that she was clearly beyond his reach. On top of this, there was a feeling of humiliation, that he simply wasn’t good enough and a white man had exploited... he felt his blood pressure start to rise and his thoughts became angry and dark again.
One moment he was filled with longing, then next minute, he found himself mad with the world and he wanted to lash out and strike a blow against all those who had ever slighted his people. Then, shortly after, he wondered what all the fuss was about. These extreme thoughts befuddled him. On one hand, he hated the damage to his country the western crusaders had wrought over the years, his inability to win the heart of the woman of his dreams was an example of how they had exploited his people and ignored their aspirations.
On the other hand, despite all this hatred and resentment, he had dreamt for years of travelling to the west to make a decent life for himself, one impossible to achieve in his homeland. In the west, he could find a job, hopefully live in an environment it would be safe to start a fam
ily in relative peace and ignore his sudden and irrational desires to inflict pain on the soft targets these places represented.
He checked his hands and was shocked to discover he was holding a machete and had been swinging it about and randomly lopping the heads off plants. new and indoSkidians alike were staring at him in concern, while he muttered to himself and stared back at them with wild eyes.
Zarif recalled the centuries of injustice leading to this pivotal point in time, when he would slaughter all the infidels, then gloriously martyr himself for the cause. He clasped the machete in both hands to maximise his leverage and got ready to run amok. As he prepared to charge across the garden towards the Skidians already beating a hasty retreat, the MPU sent a frantic message to the medichines circulating in his bloodstream to increase his medication.
Another, rather stronger, pleasant glow spread like a warm wave through his body. Zarif forgot about killing people and let the machete hang from his limp hand. This wasn’t the first time he had responded this way when he had violent thoughts and wanted to kill someone. He smiled weakly at the now thoroughly alarmed fellow gardeners, who were fumbling with the latch to open the gate and escape. He wondered again why he could be so irrationally angry one minute and at peace the next and went back to hacking at the weeds he was trying to clear without a second glance at the others who were now beating a hasty retreat.
The Skidians were all unsettled by the presence of Zarif in their midst: he was the volatile outsider, a danger to their community. His behaviour confirmed many of their prejudices of minorities, whether they be aliens, religious extremists, or newSkidians.
Zarif went about his business, unaware anything untoward had occurred. The MPU had edited out his most recent memories. This wasn’t the first time the MPU had intervened with Zarif while he dealt with his unrequited love. However, this time it decided to deal with the root cause of the issue and adjust Zarif’s feelings for Janice at the point they met.
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