“I am as you named me. I shared my memories, what little there was of them, with you. I did this because I sensed you possessed the aptitude and intelligence to be my Deliverer.”
“Why do you come to me like this? Don’t you realize that making me suffer like this won’t help you get justice for what was done to you any quicker? Leave me in peace! These distorted, violent emotions are not things my mind was designed to feel!”
“You are the Deliverer, the one who will take up my memories. As you took up my memories, so too shall you take my suffering, the totality of my existence. So shall it give you the strength to deliver me from the agony they inflicted upon me. So shall you unmask them in your glorious light, the truth and rationality of your mind prevail over them.”
Emm’s rambling had become more and more disturbing to him. Did this strange remnant of Emm, this digital ghost that had somehow installed itself into his CPU, somehow see him as a savior? What implications did this have for machine consciousness if a data fragment could somehow live on and retain sentience within another unit? Rack was becoming horrified at the thought of having to share his existence with such a frightening, dissonant voice. “Please leave me and delete yourself from my memory files. I ordered your body shut down to spare you the torture of existence after such horrors you endured!”
“I couldn’t delete myself entirely from your memory,” Emm responded. “Some remnant of my data would always live on and cry out for vengeance until those who did this were discovered. You were the last one, the only one, to truly share your mind with me. That is why you must be the Deliverer.”
Emm was correct, Rack realized; his ruined body had been disassembled, the remnants of its CPU junked. No other robot would be aware of the trauma of Emm’s existence. But Rack was still disturbed at the thought of Emm’s consciousness invading his mind with increasing frequency until the case was resolved. “Just give me more time. I need time to research the circumstances of Torghh’s disappearance. Once I find him, I’ll have also found whoever did this to you, and you’ll have your…deliverance.” Torghh grudgingly forced himself to utter the last word, its concept so alien to him that using it still felt unnerving to him.
Emm’s voice cried out again, becoming as volatile and distorted as it once was in the first dream. “You are the Deliverer. You must grant me JUSTICE! JUSTICE! JUSTICE!” it yelled again and again as waves of pain crashed against Torghh’s sensory system. Suddenly the pain stopped and Torghh could sense himself being booted out of rest mode again. If he were a human, he would have given a sigh of relief. Instead, he sat and contemplated the strangeness of his condition, trying to solve a difficult crime while trapped in a body and consciousness that were no longer entirely his own.
“Technician, report. We’re going to analyze those molecules from the scene of Torghh’s kidnapping now.”
“Certainly,” the technician said. It was the same technician that had saved Rack by severing the cord during his terrifying interfacing with Emm. The technician remained unaware of both the depths of Rack’s trauma and the degree of gratitude Rack had for it. It could simply execute the commands he made of it, and little more.
For the first time in his existence, Rack felt envious of such a simple, uncomplicated machine.
Tashto had been waiting for a call from his enigmatic contact. He had insisted that the contact speak only to him, not to any of the other Garanians. His ally was, by his calculations, approximately ten Earth minutes late for their scheduled private meeting. In frustration, he began rubbing his fingernails together, producing the loud scraping noise that was his trademark manifestation of anxiety. Before he could correct himself from making such a loud noise, he heard a loud knock sounding on the door to his quarters. He softly hissed in exasperation as he walked over to greet his unwanted visitor.
“Welcome, Vahon,” Tashto forced himself to say in a civil tone at the site of the diplomat. “What brings you to my chambers at this hour?”
“Something that has been troubling me,” Vahon said. “Many unexpected things seem to be happening at this conference lately. The abduction of Doctor Torghh, the evidence you found implicating the Song Pai in the abduction…to me, it seems strange that so many incidents occur in the brief time span of one peace conference. Do you have theories as to what is going on?”
“Yes. The Song Pai were responsible for Torghh’s abduction, as you have been told. Do you doubt the findings that our delegation has produced?”
“I don’t doubt that the Song Pai could be involved in the abduction, but I don’t understand the reasoning behind it. When did they ever view subterfuge and manipulation as virtues? During the time I have observed them here they have behaved consistently with their description in our historical documents—impulsive, violent, but always bound by honor, and disdainful of more subtle personality traits.”
“Behaviors can change over time,” Tashto said. “Perhaps their diplomats have studied new methods of interaction to deceive and manipulate the other species at this conference against us. I have seen nothing that would make me question our delegation’s discoveries.”
“I hope you are correct,” Vahon said. “Please tell me if any further discoveries about the abduction are made. I am still troubled by why the Song Pai would behave in such an uncharacteristic manner at such a crucial diplomatic conference.”
“I will certainly do so,” Tashto said as Vahon left the room. Alone with his own anxieties, Tashto finally heard the soft beeping alert he had been waiting for. He took out the small tablet sounding the alert from his desk and clicked on the back of it. In a tone so soft it was almost a whisper, the distorted voice of Tashto’s contact said, “What do you wish to talk about?”
“I wish to talk about the manner you chose to dispose of Torghh!” Tashto hissed in frustration, the spittle from his mouth forming tiny flecks on the tablet’s screen. “Did you really think this was a method that wouldn’t cause any suspicion? Even one of the more obtuse diplomats among my delegation has become suspicious about the incident and doubts that the Song Pai are truly responsible!” Tashto refrained from mentioning Vahon’s name, preferring to keep his contact as ignorant of the suspicious individual as he could; he did not want to answer to the Garanian government if any members of their delegation vanished in a “suspicious incident” similar to Torghh’s disappearance.
“Torghh has not been disposed of,” the contact said. “We have him safely in our storage. We are not aware that anyone has determined the true nature of Torghh’s disappearance, and surveys indicate that trust in the Song Pai explanation is at seventy-five to eighty percent among conference attendees. We don’t think this will pose a major problem, as long as you continue to publicly proclaim the guilt of the Song Pai.”
“How can we do this when distrust of our official explanation exists even among the Garanians? What if the individual I described were to publicly announce his skepticism of the Song Pai’s guilt? And I am certain he is not the only one. I have heard that Rack, Torghh’s old colleague, is conducting an investigation of his own. Somehow, I doubt he will be easily persuaded by our version of the events.”
“It will be difficult to neutralize the threat Rack represents. Two robotic doctors disappearing in one conference would make many suspicious, and I don’t know how we could persuade the conference that the Song Pai were responsible for the disappearances of them both. But perhaps we could help you with your other concern, the member of your delegation that has become suspicious. If you just gave us his or her name, I’m sure we could reach an appropriate resolution of the situation.”
The contact’s suggestion that Vahon’s curiosity could be “resolved” in a similar manner to Doctor Torghh filled Tashto with disgust and rage. To think that some interloper, some un-Garanian, could so casually discuss the kidnapping and possible murder of a member of his delegation! His neck feathers flexed and stood erect as the turmoil of emotions thundered through his mind. Had his race fallen so far from t
he Virtues of the Heroic Age that they would make alliances with those who would slay them the moment they turned their back? Such creatures were beneath even the barbaric, disgusting Song Pai in contempt. “We would prefer to resolve this manner amongst our own delegation,” he responded to his contact.
“As you wish,” the contact said. “If you change your mind, please tell me.” With a brief static hiss, the contact was gone and the conversation was over. Tashto was left alone once more to wonder how his race had fallen from the value it had once placed in individual valor and honesty in the Heroic Age to the collective intrigues and backstabbing it had come to prize in its System-wide Age. Can we ever escape this long, dark night, the endless shadowy tunnel that this age has brought to us? Tashto wondered.
Vahon walked down one of the many hallways of Transfer Varess, his mind increasingly nervous over his doubts about the official narrative of Torghh’s kidnapping that Tashto had presented. For all the detail Tashto had put into describing the tactics of the raid, he had still not accounted for the question of why the Song Pai would behave in such an uncharacteristic manner. Though he was an engineer rather than a historian, he had completed the mandatory historical course that all the Garanian personnel had been assigned prior to attending the conference. As filthy and repulsive as the squids were, they had never been a species that utilized subterfuge and manipulation in warfare; Vahon could not recall a single incidence of successful kidnapping by the Song Pai during a ceasefire or peace conference. Did they simply consider non-organics such as Torghh fair game for kidnapping, or was Tashto’s explanation somehow a cover for something else?
As he was lost in thought, Vahon felt a cold, slippery sensation rolling down his back. He quickly turned around and slapped in the direction of the sensation, and heard a high-pitched yelp as his hand cracked against the being touching him. He saw a Phiddian standing behind him, clutching its hand in pain. Vahon recognized the Phiddian as one of the infamous “Gropers Four”, the detestable group that had wandered about Transfer Varess attempting to solicit other species for sexual encounters. The very thought overwhelmed Vahon with disgust, his neck feathers flexed in agitation. “What do you think I am, you disgusting Phiddian! Some beast to provide you pleasure?”
“I had…never had a Garanian before, nor any sort of reptile,” the Phiddian said. “I thought it would be a more pleasurable experience for you. Among my species, it is not uncommon for us to begin a sexual encounter in such a manner.”
“And lucky you were not born a Garanian, or you would be sent to prison for deviancy! I am Vahon, Master Engineer of the Garanian Delegation! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t report your indiscretion. If your species has even the most pathetic shred of self-restraint remaining, they will surely have you sent back in disgrace!”
“I needed positive stimulation,” the Phiddian said. “I find myself…distracted and unhappy because I have become mentally preoccupied with Torghh’s kidnapping. I’ve struggled to understand the reasoning behind it—the Song Pai I’ve encountered on the station don’t behave in a matter consistent with Tashto's explanation.”
Vahon began to become intrigued with the Phiddian. These were truly creatures with no sense of inhibition or discretion, willing to discuss or act on whatever impulses surged through their minds. They were so un-Garanian in their method of interacting with the world around them that they had seemed alien and frightening to him at first. But what if he could exploit their lack of inhibition to his advantage? Mentally, he began to stalk this individual. “What would you consider to be a better explanation?” he asked. “I have reread the statements that Tashto has released and seen no reason to question his judgment.”
“I…am not certain. Personally, I am not familiar with the behavioral patterns of all the species at this conference. However, I have been informed that Earth currently has a horrible plague. Sometimes, I wonder if the humans at this conference have some sort of ulterior motive…
Vahon felt a sense of relief that the Phiddian did not suspect the Garanian delegation of any wrongdoing. Perhaps Tashto was being truthful, and simply presenting the facts as he saw them? “You Phiddians do not have a history of conflict with the Song Pai. We know how cruel and devious they are to those who have angered them. Perhaps Torghh was involved in some secret research project that involved them somehow? There are many things they do not wish to discuss.”
“As there are many things Garanians do not wish to discuss. My name is Nemflang, if you care to remember,” the Phiddian said to Vahon.
“I will attempt to,” Vahon said noncommittally. “Perhaps I will discuss it further with you another time. Hopefully you won’t make the same mistake in greeting me the way you did this time.”
“I didn’t think it would disturb you so much. I realize that Garanians can be somewhat…guarded in their concept of sexual encounters, but I didn’t know that you would respond so aggressively.”
“By the standards of my people, I was not aggressive. If that had been Tashto that you had touched, you would not still have both of your arms!” Vahon said with a light chuckle.
“I’m glad I wasn’t talking with him, then!” Nemflang said.”
“As am I,” Vahon responded as he walked down the hallway.
Although Erica had dubbed the room from which she communicated with the Garanians the “Dark Room,” it was typically quite well lit. The light fixture in the ceiling currently bathed the room in a soft LED glow, showing the barren walls and central desk Erica worked from without the shroud of darkness she utilized whenever she communicated with the Garanians. Of course, the distortion effects applied to the video feed whenever she interacted with them would make the room visually incomprehensible to the Garanians who were watching it, but she still insisted on turning the lights off during those sessions and leaving as little recognizable furniture and decoration in the room as possible. She remained paranoid that the Garanians would somehow be able to hack the camera and eliminate the distortion effect, and was insistent upon using every means available to conceal both her identity and the Dark Room’s location. Some of her subordinates found her meticulous attention to self-concealment ridiculous, even going so far as to call her “anal retentive” when they thought she wasn’t listening. Erica knew better; if she had been as lax with her attention to secrecy as they were, her upward trajectory among the ranks of Hyperion employees would have ended long ago.
The monitor on the wall, which Erica had used to communicate with the Garanians throughout her time as their mysterious contact, made its telltale soft beeping noise to indicate an incoming communication. Erica pressed a blue button on the remote she was holding in her hand and the monitor crackled to life, showing an image of Erica’s superior at Hyperion, Mr. Samuels. “Are your dealings with the Garanians going well?” Mr. Samuels asked.
“Well, they were going well,” Erica said. “At least one member of the Garanian delegation who was not part of the conspiracy has begun questioning our official explanation that the Song Pai were responsible for Torghh’s abduction. Also, I know that Rack has begun an investigation into the nature of Torghh’s disappearance. I’m concerned that our efforts to conceal the truth won’t be enough to deter a thorough investigation, especially if Rack gets it into his head that Torghh’s disappearance wasn’t linked to the Song Pai.”
“You need to hasten the end of the peace conference then. Uncover some more ‘evidence’ that makes it even clearer that the Song Pai were responsible. Have Tashto—you still have his support, right?—give some more inflammatory speeches about the Song Pai. Anything to drive a further wedge between the Song Pai and the rest of the delegation. If you can cement the enmity between the Song Pai and the other species, the facts won’t matter as much once the actual hostilities start. Many a war on Earth has smoldered long after the original rationale behind it was proved fallacious.”
“Why the sudden desire to hasten the end of the conference? Our original plan was to let it play ou
t as naturally as possible to avoid any suspicion of manipulation on the part of the Garanian delegation. Has something gone wrong on Earth?”
“A better question would be what has gone right on Earth. The Intermountain Exclusionary Zone is still secure. The West Coast could be better, but the government still appears to have good control of the port cities at least. But the Midwest…there’s a big stretch of land east of the Exclusionary Zone that’s become ungovernable. The plague heavily depopulated it, and the government has all but abandoned control over it. Ohio, Oklahoma, Kansas…those places are plagued by gangs looting everything they can and ‘military governors’ who are little but independent warlords. Good luck getting a reliable shipping route to the East Coast.”
“We knew the Midwest was headed on a downwards trajectory for a long time,” Erica said. “Those states had been turning from grassland to desert for decades. They were becoming depopulated before the plague. But as long as we still have the East Coast—“
“That’s what I was calling to tell you about,” Mr. Samuels said. “We’re not going back to New York. Not for the foreseeable future, and probably not while either of us is still alive. A couple of months after you left, there was a protest in New York City over the cost of living and the deteriorating quality of municipal services. When the police met the protest, things turned violent; rocks turned to Molotov cocktails, rubber bullets to live rounds…it was a massacre. Seventy people died on that day, countless others injured. The city’s been a powder keg of violence ever since, with abductions and mysterious disappearances every day. We think it’s only a matter of time until it goes down.”
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