“Yes, it is time,” Kimberly sang out with her mechanical voice, but no one was inside the scout to hear, and the communication systems between Kimberly and Ken and Janae were shut down on their human ends. Or so Kimberly conjectured. “My Grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf… for the shelf… for the shelf. So, it stood ninety years on the floor. It was taller by half than the old man himself… man himself… man himself… Yet, it weighed not a pennyweight more. It was bought on the morn on the day that he was born… born… burn… bourn… mourn… It was always his treasure and pride. But it stopped, short, never to go again, when the old man died… when the old man died… when the old man died.”
And thus, the terror of Kimberly’s emotional and mental torment continued.
4
Burned Bridges
The white automacube with the lettering, “87V-2-ULE” rolled over to the treatment table, “Ken? This was your final physical therapy session, and I am pleased to announce that you are restored to your prior level of health.”
“Doctor Ule, that is very good to hear,” Ken replied looking at the machine with his pale blue eyes. He had just trimmed his short beard which was the same black color as the tightly twisted curls on his head. A few pinkish scars did mar his dark complexion, but those were not as severe as he had expected. “Last night, I did dream again about Dome 17 and my personal AI Rubirosa was telling me there was another committee meeting which was to discuss the failure of our mission to the Trailblazer.” He looked away and down.
“Ken, we did our very best,” Janae pipped in, as she looked away from the mancala board she had been using. “I too have nightmares at times about Dome 17, and all that happened there.” She brushed some of her golden blonde hair back over her ear. It was shorter than it had been in Dome 17, but Ken did not ask how it had gotten trimmed. He had missed a lot while being unconscious during his treatments. On the rare moments when he had tried to ask about what had happened, after he was attacked by the vicious bruin, he saw a haunted look enter Janae’s light-brown eyes. So, instead he spoke to the automacube—Doctor Ule—and learned the basics of what had happened. He knew Janae was still grieving the murder of her friend Constance, back at Dome 17, and he did not want to hinder her mourning, but he also was uncertain how to help. Seeing Janae in emotional pain was difficult for Ken. He felt impotent.
“Janae, I owe you my life, how does one repay that?” Ken asked, but was hesitant to say more. He wanted to talk about everything. On his mind were issues like their inability to save the people of Dome 17, and the fighting with the bruins, and so much more, but held back.
Both of Janae’s dark brown eyebrows scrunched together as she pondered his comment. “Just refrain from calling me a beautiful woman, and maybe that will be enough.”
He gave her a hesitant smile, which she returned.
“But we now face the question of what we do next,” Janae stated.
“Good point!” Ken turned back to the automacube, “You mentioned something about some bureau group who were watching us. They sent some gifts, like Janae’s mancala set, and some of our gear. I dislike being observed—spied upon—like that, especially now that I am healed. What do they really want?”
“I have no direct knowledge of that group, the Bureau of Guardians,” Doctor Ule replied. “The parcel arrived via an unregistered transport automacube, and there are no log records of its arrival or its departure. That is not unexpected, since the lattice of compeers failed decades ago, and massive system failures have plagued the Trailblazer. The seamless garment that was once the lattice and which swathed the Trailblazer’s systems is now just a tattered patchwork of often disconnected networks, subsystems, and individual mechanisms. The only information I have regarding a contemporary Bureau of Guardians is on that printed letter which came with the items.”
“So, just recall that automacube,” Ken suggested. “Have it come back here.”
“I am unable to make contact with that automacube.”
“What about the historical records?” Janae asked. “What was the Bureau of Guardians?”
Doctor Ule replied, and there was a sneer in its voice, “I am not a historian, nor a personal tutor of antiquity. I can inform you that the archives or libraries would potentially have better access to that kind of information. However, because I have a duty to my patients, I can give you some emotional assurance in saying I have no records of any group bearing that name prior to the massive systems failures. No addresses, accounts, logs, links, or couplings. Therefore, the letter you received must have come from a group who began after the Encounter and the massive system failures, or is a group who has changed its nomenclature since then. I have nothing else to offer on this issue.”
Ken reached over and patted the white machine’s arm gently, “I appreciate all you have done for me, and I do not expect you to be a personal tutor, or a professor of history. I do want to know what happened, who is seeking to manipulate us, and where we are headed next.”
“I am not a pet to be fondled and mollycoddled by physical affection,” Doctor Ule replied, “but I am glad you recognize my services to you. It has been a pleasure assisting you. My records have been updated with you, and Janae’s genetic profiles. I must say I was humbled a bit at the advances which have taken place in your bodies. The evidence supports your claims of coming from Earth, but since I am not an engineering automacube, I cannot address how the obstacles of faster-than-light travel have been overcome. I can confirm your genetics are unique to you two, and are not consistent with the genetic codes for any of the Trailblazer’s population groups.”
“You have my genetic information?” Janae snapped.
“Yes. I did remote scanning while you slept. That was added to your medical file which was compiled here. You and Ken are now both in the medical database and that will allow for better continuity of care for future medical needs.”
“Without my consent?” Janae was furious.
“Anyone who enters this clinic is giving implied consent to routine scans, screenings, immunizations, and detection of subacute conditions. That is part of the wholistic care delivered by the medical systems of the Trailblazer. It is far easier to prevent illness and injury than it is to treat it after it happens. Nothing I did harmed you in any way, and I am pleased to report that you have no health issues of concern. You and Ken are both prime specimens and I see no hindrances to any activities now that Ken is recovered. Your genetic profiles are excellent for reproductive activities, if and when you decide to become parents. In light of your recent incidents with hostile animals, I suggest carefully assessing where you will establish your home, and be sure it is a safe environment prior to procreation.”
“What?” Janae sputtered out.
“The attacks by the hostile bruins indicate the Isle of Pines biome might need some adjustments in security measures. I do not have connections to give you a…”
“I think Janae was referring to your statement about reproductive activities,” Ken interjected. “I may be misunderstanding what you meant. Did you collect gamete samples from us? Is that what you mean by procreation?”
“No. However, fertility screening is standard procedure for all visitors and patients at all medical centers. The habitat dwellers are an essential part of the three-pronged approach for successful colonization of Westerhuis 31 Gamma, unofficially called Mazzaroth. I suggest if you want more information about the colonization program you make contact with that department…”
“Because you are not programmed for terraforming, right?” Ken said as his mind pondered what he was hearing. “You remind me of Ape, wherever he might be.”
“Are you saying you restored Ken’s fertility, while you healed his injuries?” Janae laughed, and tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but that failed to restrain her commenting. “How rich! I did not think that part of his body was injured! Oh, Ken, you will need to be exceedingly careful when you find some indigenous woman who succumbs to your masc
uline allure, and romantic charms. What was her name, Butterfield? Oh, yes, beware… What is that archaic term? Oh, yes, your amorous adventures will cause a pregnant.”
“The correct term in that context is pregnancy. Pregnant is the state of a female after pregnancy begins,” Doctor Ule answered. “However, Ken’s reproductive system was not directly damaged by his admittedly severe traumatic injuries. There was nothing to repair in that regard. His sperm has excellent motility, sufficient quantity, no radioactive mutations, and no genetic defects. His penis and…”
“No more!” Janae interrupted. “I want to hear no more of that! Yes, Ken. Oh, you are in a fix,” Janae giggled again, recalling how many women Ken had romanced in Dome 17. Her eyes were dancing mischievously. “Now, you must be sure to warn every woman we encounter, before you sweet-talk them.”
“Janae, Doctor Ule said we both are fertile. Both, not just me. What has been done to us?” Ken was not laughing, and his face was stricken. “Doctor Ule, in Dome 17, everyone has gamete harvesting at age fifteen and then permanent sterilization is done. That is our standard practice. Those gametes are stored and then dispensed by the artificial intelligences and medical staff as reproduction is strictly regulated into age-mate groups. Extensive gamete compatibility testing is done prior to the conception of every zygote, which is in an extracorporeal womb. That is not my specialty area, but I know no one gets biologically pregnant, that is far too risky. You must be mistaken about these scans.”
A light came forth from the ceiling and passed over Janae and over Ken before they could do anything.
“Scanning confirms my prior assessments. Both of you are free from any reproductive abnormalities,” Doctor Ule stated. “As I said, your genetic profiles are excellent for reproductive activities. You are free to choose any consenting partner and conceive a child. I strongly suggest you be in a relationship, with long-term commitment goals, prior to making that decision, but it is a personal choice. The forced sterilization and nonbiological incubation you describe from Dome 17 might be justified in extraordinary circumstances, but…”
“I am fertile too?” Janae burst out. “Who did that to me! You? Was it while I was sleeping here?” Her hands were clenched, eyes squinting, and breath coming hard. “How dare anyone violate me like that?”
Doctor Ule answered, “My scans and screenings showed that both of you were fully functional—reproductively speaking—when you arrived here. I did nothing to either of you in that regard.”
Standing with urgency, Janae barked out a command, “Ken, we are leaving here, immediately! We must get back to Kimberly and check this out with our own equipment. We must find our medical kit and… wait! The medical kit was built by people in Dome 17!”
“Of course, it was. It has served us well and saved many other people’s lives,” Ken responded. “Janae, remember, you got the medical kit’s energy systems repaired.”
“Exactly. Up in that Reproduction and Fabrication facility with AI Celtnieks, but what if that repair did more than just restore the energy system? And… well,” Janae was pondering when the medical kit had been used and the events were blurring together. “But it came from Dome 17, and we know Riley, Jubal, and Larson were in on that murderous, terrorizing, conspiracy.”
“It is a medical kit, to treat illnesses and injuries. It restores health, and dispenses trauma gel packs,” Ken implored, and then something dawned on him as well. “Janae, they refused to let you and Constance come, saying it was essential for a male and a female to be on the mission. They gave us some bogus sociological rationale for that. But if…”
“Doctor Carolyn also did the autopsies on those who were murdered, declaring some suicides,” Janae added as she packed up her gear. She was slamming tools and clothing aggressively into her backpack. “We had to take a capsule, and some drink she prepared, before we left Dome 17. Before we left. What did that do?”
“Right, she called them, the broad-ranging pathogen prophylactics. Something like that,” Ken added, understanding where her thoughts were leading, “which she said was for preventing diseases, but, I am not sure.”
“What if that was where we were made fertile? Or when we used trauma gel packs, or the medical kits. We both used both of those things. Any of those could have made us fertile. Oh, what a stinking pile of dung! Yes, oh yes, I can see Jubal doing that and then sending you out here to romance and seduce me!” Janae slammed the backpack down. “That twisted, terrorizing, twit!”
“Janae, I promise, I had no idea this had happened, none,” Ken was sweating and yet, he made steady eye contact with Janae. “I apologize for my advances and attempts at seduction. I am sorry, and honestly, I did not know anyone had fiddled around with our body chemistry or systems. I am appalled that they did. No matter who it was, it was wrong.”
“You have proven yourself to be honest,” Janae replied, “but you were deceived, duped, and dishonored, while I was coerced. Who knows what other horrors they did to us? We must recover our medical kit, then fix Kimberly, and get to the bottom of all this.” She slung her backpack on, and cinched the belt tightly around her athletic waist. The revenger weapon was on her hip, ready to be used.
“I agree. We are in this together, and I do not mean that in any carnal manner,” Ken pulled on his new RAM suit, “But who actually is responsible? How do we get to the FTL scout? What condition is Kimberly in? How in all the labyrinth of the Trailblazer will we ever find our medical kits?”
“I cannot see the Trailblazer people doing this, well, maybe that Butterfield who was so enamored of you, but otherwise why? I do remember standing next to a ventilation grille outside of medical and hearing that nurse, Daniel’s faint voice floating up, and he said something like, ‘They deserve the truth.’ At the time, I thought it was about the suicides and whatever, even when Doctor Carolyn said she had promised to keep silent. She ordered Daniel to keep silent, but he knew nothing about it. I should have confronted everyone back then! Everyone! Oh, no, I was letting sick, sniveling, sycophants scare me. Better to have died with Constance than to be forced into this hellish terror!”
Ken spoke ever so gently, “You saved my life, and the lives of others. Those wicked people in Dome 17 would have just killed you. You deserve better than that, and you can live for Constance to prove them all wrong.”
Janae stood straight up, and looked at Ken, as she tipped her head to the side. “I am just so enraged, but… we must leave here now.”
“I am with you, all the way,” Ken replied, some relief settling in on him. He admired the fit of his new RAM suit, and wanted to comment on it, and discuss how the Bureau of Guardian was recreating some of the Dome 17 technology, perhaps making medical kits, but he knew Janae was not at all in an emotional state to do that. Instead, he asked, “Doctor Ule, please tell me the best way to get to Hanger 5 of the Ida biome.”
“You have asked that before, and as I said, your question is insufficiently precise to allow me to answer.”
“Then give me a route to the closest hanger for shuttles on Ida.”
“I am not a transport automacube,” Doctor Ule began, but Janae interrupted the machine.
“Now, listen here, and obey! Make a plan for this case. Hypothetically speaking, you, and you alone receive a distress call about an explosion. No other medical units hear it. If you were responding to an explosion with colossal casualties, and all you had was a single emergency call saying, ‘People are injured in a hanger bay in Ida!’ What would you do? And no evasions about some broken lattice, or lack of connections, or asking a referral. It all falls on you. That is the situation, so what is your medical plan of action? Your patients will die without your solving this enigma. Do it!”
“Hypothetically speaking, I would go to Hanger IP-205 and board a shuttle. Then have the shuttle take me to Ida’s nearest hanger which is officially designated DP-92F. All the while, I would be attempting to make links and couplings, and summon other units to respond or to gain additional information…
”
“So, print us out a route for that hanger bay, DP-92F, and do it now,” Janae commanded. “Or we will be leaving on our own.”
There was a long and ominous pause.
“Doctor Ule? Will you comply with Janae’s commands? Just plan a contingency for her situation,” Ken implored. “You must have deck plans, and have some kind of disaster readiness plan of operations. You helped me, after all.”
“Pardon my delay. I was just updating your chart with a discharge date, and discovered that the chart was accessed recently by an artificial intelligence system, AI Heddlu. It is not a direct connection, and AI Heddlu cannot be directly linked or coupled. That would require much better connectivity. AI Heddlu did access the unit census data. I have attempted to request assistance for myself, my clinic, and for you. Those queries are unacknowledged. It is heartening to know there are existing artificial intelligence systems—even just momentarily—in addition to the ones you described in the Isle of Pines.”
Terror on the Trailblazer Page 5