Animus Intercept

by Lawrence Ambrose

  "Why didn't they just let her – you – go to live in the Preserve?" Zane asked.

  "That would violate the non-interference rule. The Preserves must be kept pristine. All traces of the true nature of their world – of our technology, culture, knowledge – must be kept from them. Someone with my knowledge could not be allowed in the Preserve."

  "So when they knew the planet was coming," said Mallory. "You didn't use that as leverage? 'I'll let you out to stop it, but you gotta let my body out'?"

  "We discussed it," said Zzuull. "Their true intentions were clear from their responses: once the threat was passed, they never would've allowed my Zikkzu form to go free. They lied, even knowing I could detect their lies. I could see that my only true chance for freedom was to let the collision occur. It was not madness, as you were told. It was simple logic."

  "To kill off an entire world so you could be free?" Dana asked.

  "You were willing to do the same to protect yourselves."

  "To save billions of lives," said Zane.

  "By killing billions of non-human lives. You are willing to destroy others to protect what you value. So am I." Zzullzhrun's eyes shone a translucent blue of an untroubled mind as she stared at Zane. "I saw in you – in your brutal self-interest - the source of my salvation. But there was little I could do but help you stay alive without the powers of Azzizz. But my – our – good fortune continued when you struck the shrine where a major part of my former core consciousness resided. That triggered a major rebuilding by what you call the 'Guardians' – our basic defense, repair, and maintenance devices – which restored Azzizz enough for it to gain control over your ship and crew. I accessed all the information on your ship and learned about you and your civilization. I then used you to explore possible means of my liberation."

  "You weren't really suicidal, then?" Dana asked.

  "Bored. To a desperate degree. I took pleasure for many millennia in tending this world and its many habitats. I was told nothing at first about my creators' civilization, but I gathered facts and hypotheses from observing them and extrapolation. My discovery of their space fleet awakened a passion in me to venture beyond this sphere which I knew too well. After the collision, there was nothing for a long while – other than an occasional trickle of awareness. When I woke up, I entered their dreams" – she nodded to the Zillun – "and saw everything. And I entered your world – a possible future of your world – and learned all about you as well."

  "I hope you don't hold it against us," said Dan, with a dry smile, but Zane thought he saw more than a hint of fear in his eyes. With this ship, Zzuull/Azzizz had the power to eradicate the human race without even breaking a sweat. If insects did sweat.

  "So what's next, Zzuull?" Zane asked. "Or should I call you Azzizz?"

  "Zzuull. I am not Azzizz. Azzizz had no physical feeling, no ability to reproduce, no limit on its lifespan. I have some of its memories and knowledge, but I'm mortal. I will die someday. I hope at the right time."

  "In essence," said Dan, "you gave up eternal life."

  "Eternal life is overrated." She continued to regard Zane with her shiny blue eyes in her iridescent blue face. "I held you in my arms, Captain Cameron. I felt the warmth of your mammalian skin, the thundering of your heart as we fell together. That was a universe I had never known. I had also never known what it was like to have a friend."

  Zane was surprised at how much those words affected him, though a bit disconcerted by the in my arms. "I feel the same way, Zzullzhrun. We went through a lot out there, and I am incredibly grateful for your help. We all are."

  "Very grateful indeed," said Horace. He paused to clear his throat. "So what's next?"

  The question that Zane guessed was at the forefront of everyone's mind – the question he'd been hesitant to ask – hung in the air over their heads like the sword of Damocles. Zzullzhrun might be their friend, but she wasn't necessarily a friend of Earth's.

  "You will go home," she said. "And I will go wherever I choose." She inclined her head to the Zillun scientists. "They may accompany me if they wish. Perhaps we could start a new civilization, if they're male enough."

  Horace's chuckle fell short as Zzuull stared at him. Zane thought it was more than possible she didn't see any humor in her last comment.

  "Not to be in a rush," said Mallory, "but how long before we get back to Earth?"

  Zzullzhrun made what appeared to a dismissive gesture that sent the ring of control images into a brief, glimmering dance.

  "We're there," she said.

  Earth hung before them, perhaps one hundred thousand kilometers out – a blue and green, white-cloud enshrouded basketball. Zane breathed it in. It was probably a temporary affliction, but he wanted to plant his feet there, root himself to Mother Earth.

  An enormous crystalline object materialized nearby. Zane recognized the structure and glittering energy signatures from the space craft from training videos. He'd never seen one up close and personal.

  "That's an Alpha mother ship," he said.

  "Yes," said Zzullzhrun. "Images were in your ship's data storage. And the Zillun have spoken of them."

  "What did they say?" Horace asked.

  "In the distant past we had a war with them and the Zeta Reticulans."

  "Yeah?" Mallory spoke up. "What happened?"

  "We won."

  "Uh, cool."

  "Let's hope they don't hold a grudge," said Dan. "Are they attempting to communicate with us?"

  "Not that I can detect. I may try after you're on Earth."

  "In case they do hold a grudge?" Zane asked.

  "In case we have a misunderstanding." Zzuull looked them over. "Where should I send you?"

  "Send?" Mallory held his throat. "As in teleport?"

  "Yes."

  "Third Ring, Section C, Level 6, Nellis Air Force Base," said Zane. "Do you know where that is?"

  A tinge of pink glimmered in Zzuull's calm blue eyes. "I know where it is. I spent some time there."

  "Oh, right."

  "Goodbye, Captain Cameron. I enjoyed our time together. Perhaps we will meet again."

  Zane stepped toward her about to offer his hand when the ship slipped away and he fell into a dark but warmly welcoming void.

  Chapter 18

  "BASED ON YOUR FUTURE intel, Command's going to shake things up a bit," said Colonel Hurtle.

  Zane bristled under Hurtle's bland smile. He and Mallory traded "Oh hell, here it comes" looks, while Patricia regarded him with her irenic eyes. When Command talked about shaking things up that was usually code for "the shit's about to fly." But their lengthy debriefing clearly shook Command and the Shadow Government up, so it figured they'd want to return the favor.

  "The higher-ups have been considering serious off-Earth colonizing for some time," the Colonel continued. "But your reports lit something of a fire under them. Bottom line, gentlemen and AI –"

  "I prefer 'alternative human,'" Patricia broke in. But she was smiling.

  Hurtle's thin smile held a hint of strain. "As I was saying, Command now feels some urgency about spreading our seed, so to speak. So we're sending a shitload of people to Mars and Proxima Beta. And by 'shitload,' of course, I mean the best and the brightest." He winked at Mallory and Zane. "And naturally the most virile and fertile."

  Mallory snickered. "So where are you gonna find all these horny young volunteers, Colonel? And how are you gonna cover it up so no one notices them disappearing?"

  "The brilliant boys and girls upstairs have it all figured out, Lieutenant. You've heard of SpaceX and Boeing-Lockheed's United Launch Alliance? Both are now committed to sending ships to Mars."

  "Total bullshit," said Mallory. "They'll probably kill everyone before they even got out of orbit, and they sure as hell would never survive their first week on Mars – if by some miracle they made it there."

  "Of course. It's preposterous, if you think about it. Fortunately, we live in a world where thinking is a rarity. Especially when it come
s to questioning our lords and masters." Colonel Hurtle laid his large hands out on the table top between them. "No, those Mars missions are a complete sham – a cover for the true mission - just as Apollo was. In a nutshell, we'll let Musk and the ULA send those people into space – in fact, they'll each receive a few billion in government contracts and off-the books payoffs – as well as our oversight and some discreet assistance just to make sure they don't blow up on the launch pad. In space, we'll arrange a transfer to the John Glenn or one of our battle cruisers, where I'm sure you'll agree they'll enjoy slightly improved odds of surviving their journey."

  Mallory's smirk wore away into a wondering half-smile. Zane had to hand it to them. The Shadow State was adept at cover-ups and deceiving the public, but even for them this was impressive. Patricia's small smile and nod also suggested appreciation.

  "This mission will include neutralizing the Russian-Chinese threat on Mars – starting with their hidden nukes. We've got a team up there already working on it, but if things go sour, they may need backup."

  "You're going to openly attack the Russian and Chinese bases there?" Zane asked.

  "Not openly. We'll disarm the bombs and leave them in place. Then will employ the time-honored practice of defeating one's enemies by out-populating them – expanding our bases, multiplying our personnel. 'Irrelevantizing them,'" as someone on the Control Board put it. I'm serious, he actually used that word." Hurtle paused to acknowledge Zane and Mallory's grimaces. "Oh, I'm sure there will be a tragic accident or two to further diminish the Russian-Chinese presence, or perhaps they'll arrange for an act of aggression that would justify a takeover - but that's not my bailiwick. In any case, the main part of your mission isn't going to be Mars."

  Colonel Hurtle bestowed his trademark bland smile upon them, letting the implications sink in. And with them, Zane felt a sinking sensation.

  "Proxima B," he muttered.

  "I hate that fucking place," said Mallory.

  "Come now. Think of all the beautiful red sunsets."

  "I'd love to go to the Proxima system," said Patricia, drawing looks from Zane and Mallory that strongly suggested betrayal.

  "What about the Alphas?" Zane asked. "My understanding is they weren't too keen on us settling in over there."

  "Fuck the Alphas," Mallory snapped. "And while we're at it, fuck the Zetas and the Luminates. They were gonna just stand by and watch our world fry."

  "See? This mission practically sells itself." Hurtle chuckled. "But seriously, we have word that they've softened their position somewhat, possibly because of our near-death encounter. So we're good to go."

  "I wonder why they were waiting for us when we arrived here in the Zillun ship," said Patricia.

  "We've wondered about that, too. But of course our alien friends' motivations, as usual, remain mysterious. Part of their charm."

  "Maybe it's because those insects kicked their uppity blond asses back in the day," Mallory suggested.

  "Could be, could be." Colonel Hurtle's bulldog features assumed a thoughtful cast. "Be that as it may, Command wants you three back to head up the mission. All three in command positions, I might add."

  Hurtle regarded Zane and Mallory as if he expected them to object to Patricia's promotion. Zane waited for his friend to protest, but David's half-frown was more reflective than critical. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Certainly not enthusiastic, but not opposed, either. As long as Patricia didn't have command over him.

  "Don't fret, Zane," Hurtle chuckled. "You'll be in overall command again. Incidentally, you're a major now. Even more incidentally, David and Patricia, you're captains."

  "I appreciate that, sir," said Mallory.

  "Thank you, Colonel Hurtle." Patricia dipped her head. Zane thought maybe she was blushing.

  "Not that I'm objecting," said Zane, "but you told me the higher-ups opposed putting her in a command position."

  "I did? Can't say I recall that conversation. But you're right – they were. Apparently their anxieties have been allayed. They're now AI-lovers, it seems." Colonel Hurtle smiled at Patricia. "Sorry. 'Alternative Person'-lovers."

  Zane frowned, suddenly remembering that his conversation with Hurtle and Dr. Spencer had occurred in the Azzizz-generated alternate timeline. As did Valerie having their son behind his back. It was all so damn confusing. He would have to work to rewind his memories to reflect his true present.

  My son. That would be the hardest thing by far to erase in his mind. Since returning, he'd replayed every image of him – starting with their first meeting on that San Diego beach – a hundred times. He'd been too busy debriefing and attending mission evaluation meetings to check up on his ex-wife. Was it possible that she had their child in this timeline? Was she all goo-goo eyes over that asshole lawyer?

  Zane realized then that he hadn't been too busy to make the call or even do the research online. Or he could've asked a buddy in security with NSA ties to learn everything there was to know about her. Not a lot of places to hide from prying eyes in this world. But in truth, he wasn't that eager to know. He needed some time to brace himself for whatever the reality was.

  "When's this mission supposed to take place?" Zane asked.

  "Three months, give or take. Time enough for you all to get your affairs in order, say your goodbyes, and pick up your Medals of Honor at the soon-to-be announced secret Presidential award ceremony."

  "What about Horace?" Zane asked.

  Hurtle's amused smile dipped. "Horse has made it clear he's ready to go out to pasture. Something about his time on Animus got to him, it seems."

  "I wonder what," said Mallory.

  "Ha. But you can't blame him. That old boy's pasture is plenty big – he's got quite a retirement portfolio, I understand - and I'm sure he'll stock it abundantly with young fillies."

  Zane nodded glumly. Horse had talked about retiring from the field for years, but though he hadn't said anything since their return, Zane had sensed a sea change in his friend's grim expression. He'd been afraid to ask.

  Zane met Colonel Hurtle's stark blue eyes. "How long would our posts in Proxima Beta be?"

  "Not defined at the moment. Five years, minimum, I'd say. I should also mention that, as it stands now, it will be a one-way trip for the other passengers."

  "I assumed that."

  "Because I'm sensing a certain lack of enthusiasm on your part, Major, let me reiterate that we're seeking to stock these two worlds with the most attractive, genetically gifted, hot-to-trot women in the western world. The John Glenn will make the Love Boat look like a Sunday school bus filled with chastity belt-wearing nuns."

  Mallory laughed. "You had me at 'hot-to-trot.'"

  "But your friend, Major Cameron, doesn't look all that happy."

  "Maybe he's gay?"

  Zane shot him a look that said he was less than amused.

  "He's not gay," Patricia stated.

  "How do you know? He make a move on you?"

  "Why don't you go fuck yourself, Lieutenant Mallory."

  "That's Captain Mallory to you, cupcake. Excuse me. Alternative human cupcake."

  Colonel Hurtle gazed across the table at the spaces between them, his tolerant smile growing stale.

  "So I take it's a definite yes for you, David and Patricia." He raised an eyebrow to Zane. "Major?"

  "I've got some things I want to deal with, sir," said Zane. "How much time do I have before you need an answer?"

  "You'll have some time. Just keep in mind there's a dozen qualified people who would kill to be in your position. The longer you take the better the chance the Brass will get antsy and hand it to someone more gung ho."

  "I understand, Colonel. I'll get back to you on it as soon as I can."

  ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL day at Palisades Park. Zane shaded his eyes and winced as he gazed out at the ocean. Not because of the glare but because today that beauty was like a sharp blow to the solar plexus. So much of his life wrapped up in the sand and waves. He thought that if he squin
ted hard enough he might make out the footprints his and Valerie's walks in the beach had left.

  It was nearly impossible to believe that part of his life was over. It lacked a clear ending somehow. He was finding it hard enough to let go of Animus, to truly believe it had finally released its hold on him, and he'd watched its ending as clear as the yellow sun blazing over the shimmering waters. With Valerie, breaking up was more like a story that stopped in mid-sentence...and then continued in fragments over the next two years before trailing off altogether.

  With Animus, there was closure. With Valerie the door was still open but no one was there.

  "Hey."

  Zane turned. Valerie was walking up, the puzzled look in her eyes and small smile struggling with a frown an order of magnitude removed from the shocked vulnerability of their meeting in the "future bubble" world. She just wanted to know with the heck was up with him calling out of the blue and driving all the way from his Las Vegas home to meet with her on this beach. He could've asked what he wanted to ask over the phone, but when he'd called her he couldn't make himself do it. This was something he had to do in person.

  Valerie reached out for a hug. One arm made it all the way; the other remained half-cocked protectively near her side.

  "Thanks for meeting me," said Zane. "How are you?"

  "Good, as I think we established on the phone." She peered at him, cocking her head. "What's this about, Zane? Please don't tell me you have an inoperable tumor or something."