Through the Never

by J. A. Culican

  Javen pulled back his hand, the truth dawning on him. He stared blankly at the back of Alexis’s rubber head. The entire time… her image had only been a hologram projection.

  There had been no swap—Alexis wasn’t real. She’d never been real.

  Chills ran up his spine. He’d been set up.

  He remembered his conversation with her regarding the colonists. Could they charge him for treason? Was that their intention—to trap him?

  He hadn’t given any sign that he would turn her in. Quite the opposite, he realized. Ever since he’d met her, he’d relentlessly defended her and tried to help her. And all of that had come after she’d told him about her allegiance to the colonists.

  Javen began to feel sick. All the complex emotions he’d built around Alexis were manipulations. Only a program. He’d stood up for a virtual AI and had been shot for it.

  And now… he turned and faced the Nero mannequin on his left.

  What would ICT think about him shooting up his superior officer?

  Expulsion from the military? A charge for attempted murder on top of treason for aiding a colonist sympathizer?

  The glaring overhead lights flashed on.

  The door to the test room swung open and Javen braced himself for a swarm of military police to rush inside. Instead, Lieutenant Brighton entered the room and quietly shut the door behind her.

  She stared at him, remaining beside the door.

  There was an odd, but serious, look on her face he couldn’t place. Her dark hair was no longer in a ponytail, but hung down her back. Without a word, she left her place beside the door and walked up to him, then handed him a slip of paper.

  Javen looked down and read it. Next to ICT was the label, ADVANCED, followed by the words, RECOMMENDATION: OFFICER TRAINING. A list of highlights lay below, and he noticed one of them held the number of shots he’d fired, as well as naming Sergeant Nero as the one he’d hit.

  Javen glanced up at Brighton. The look on her face was still elusive, her lips held rigid and thin in a straight line.

  “Does this mean I’m not going to be court-martialed?”

  Lieutenant Brighton peered over her shoulder toward the door, then back at Javen. A slight curl replaced the dead emotionless line at the corners of her lips.

  “Oh no,” came her cool, even voice. “You failed harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. Everyone breaks a few protocols during their first ICT test, but you broke nearly all of them, including the majors. You took Alexis’s conductor in the test room: that was your first mistake. You didn’t respond appropriately when she told you she was hiding from Sergeant Nero. And then, when she said she supported the colonists, you proceeded to protect her throughout the remainder of the test.”

  Brighton paused, her eyes almost glowing. “The ICT program changes and evolves with every choice you make. A combination of holograms, adaptive AI, and psychology, Cadet Worth. Those dummies you shot up are nothing more than what the boys use on the simulators in the Enhanced Combat classes. The mind scenarios however had ICT’s AI simulators. The test is different for everyone because each cadet has different reactions to any number of stimuli thrown at them.

  “You’re not the first to shoot at Sergeant Nero, but you’re the first to do so while harboring feelings for Alexis, a colonist spy embedded in our military recruiting program. They won’t just court-martial you for that, they’ll hang you from the gallows and air it live on the vids.”

  Javen’s hands began to sweat. Why was she telling him all this so casually? Did she forget he was still armed?

  Having accused him of all she had, Brighton didn’t seem concerned standing in his presence. He would have expected her to have a small take-down force with her at the very least.

  “Are you going to turn me in all by yourself then?” he asked.

  Her right eyebrow lifted slightly. “I shouldn’t even be in here. The test room door switches to lockdown mode if a cadet fails the test in the manner that you have. I hacked your results, of course, otherwise you’d have a dozen armed men dragging you away right now.”

  Questions flooded Javen’s mind. What was Brighton hiding? What reason would she have to hack his results? Was she testing him further? He glanced down at her waist and saw the sidearm she carried. Did she believe she was a faster draw than he was, or did she already know it took a person like Nero to drive him to pull his gun? She had his psych report… and probably a dozen other evaluations… his entire profile from the last ten years of school. If so, she knew exactly what he would and wouldn’t do.

  Javen searched her face for an answer. “Why would you hack the test for me?”

  “Because I have a secret.”

  Again, she smiled.

  If she was waiting for him to guess it, she was going to be disappointed. Javen folded his arms, refusing to play her game.

  “I am Alexis,” she said.

  Javen frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Alexis is real, and so is the basis of everything she said. I designed her to tell my story, manipulated the original programming on her character.”

  Javen shook his head. “Is this another test?”

  Brighton shook her head. “It is for me. I’m putting you in control now. Listen carefully, we don’t have much time. I run this test to recruit spies for Luna. As I’ve already told you, I’m a hacker, but I don’t trade only in programming. I’m good at hacking my emotions and body language. I know what facial expressions work and in what scenarios, and I’m damn good at manipulating people. In other words, I know how to act. That’s how I landed this job.”

  “I still don’t trust you,” said Javen.

  Brighton smirked and tilted her head to the left. “That’s sort of the nature of the beast. You don’t know me. You feel jerked around from the test, I understand. It’s supposed to root out those who might become sympathetic to the colonists—that’s not my design, I only added to it. My brother was killed. He was a negotiator. Everything Alexis told you about him is true.”

  “And the battle arena,” questioned Javen. “What about the face-down colonists?”

  “That’s their programming. What Alexis showed you is a glitch in the system. That arena is true battle memory modified for the test. But they forgot to change the faces of the dead lying belly-down.” Her lips pinched into a little proud smile. “A glitch I have not brought to their attention.”

  A single knock sounded on the wall, and suddenly Brighton stiffened. “Moonpuck,” she breathed in a soft hiss, “that’s the signal. I’m not supposed to be in here with you.”

  She glanced around frantically, then grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side of the room. She tapped a wall panel and it slid open. Forcefully she tugged for Javen to follow her inside, but he stood his ground.

  “I’m not hiding in there with you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Please,” she said firmly. “If Nero finds us in here…” she shook her head for emphasis.

  “Nero’s real then?”

  “I wish he wasn’t. And he’s the same bastard as he is in the test.” She tugged again on his arm. “Please, I need you to trust me.”

  Javen glanced at the test room door. If this was another test, that was the door he needed to pass through. It might absolve him from what he’d done in the virtual world.

  But then, what if Brighton was telling the truth? What if she was who she was claiming to be? Javen still felt sympathy for Alexis and her story. If Brighton and her were really one and the same, then…

  He looked at the lieutenant and in that glance he saw the same panicked look Alexis had given him when Nero had the gun to her head in the battle arena.

  With one last glance at the test room door, he let Brighton pull him into the room.

  The panel closed silently, sealing them inside.

  The room was dark but he could see Brighton standing in front of him. Two small beams of light fell upon her face through a vent in the door.

  “Thank you,” she whisp
ered.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “A storage room.”

  “Who was that who knocked on the wall?”

  “That was Roger.”

  Javen frowned. “He’s a colonist too?”

  “No, Roger’s not human.”

  “What?”

  “He’s an OHR. Organic Human Robot. He’s part of the test, but I hacked him.”

  “What are you hoping Nero’s going to do? See that you’re gone and leave, then we get out?”

  “It might not be Nero. Roger will tap the wall twice when it’s safe to come out.”

  A low grunt sounded just outside the wall panel. Javen felt the hair on his neck stand on end. He hadn’t heard the test room door open. Whoever had entered had done so very quietly.

  A quiet, sniffing noise sounded from the base of the panel.

  The ugly memory of a hairy orange orangutan surfaced in his mind.

  It could be no other creature. And it had found their scent.

  A shadow fell across the vent. Suddenly, Javen felt Brighton place all her weight against him and pull his face in her direction. Her lips crashed into his.

  The door banged open and she jerked her body off of Javen’s.

  “Sergeant Nero!” she cried.

  Standing outside was Nero, and squatting below him was his ugly beast. Javen’s hand nearly went for his pistol.

  “Miss Brighton?!” said Nero, his lips curling into a wicked smile. Then he let out a booming laugh and his eyes turned to Javen. He stared at him like a skeptic searching for clues. The orangutan wrapped itself around Nero’s right leg, the beady black eyes staring curiously up at Javen. It bared its cheese-colored teeth playfully.

  Nero grunted. “Miss Brighton, this isn’t like you. Every male cadet I know has been trying to get into your panties, but without a fuck of luck. Who the hell is this Romeo?”

  Brighton put on a face Javen hadn’t thought her capable of—a lively, impish light shone in her eyes. “Just because you haven’t caught me, doesn’t mean I haven’t screwed half the guys at Ledmeer.”

  “Bullshit,” snorted Nero. “You’re a golden trophy. A sparkling, untamed unicorn. If someone ever saddled you, the bragging would be loud and endless in the barracks.” Nero held his hand out. “Where’s this Romeo’s test results?”

  Javen handed him the slip of paper.

  Nero glanced down at the score card. A second later his head whipped up and his eyes held a cold, dead stare that bore into Javen. “This here card says you shot me seven times. Two in the chair, five at close range. You got a problem with me, pretty boy?”

  Everything around Javen slowed. He saw Nero’s right hand hanging down. A gun sat loose in a black holster, just below his fingers. Javen watched for the smallest hint of movement. His own hand felt like a weight, drawing him to his weapon. Movement. Nero’s right hand passed over the holster, rose upward. Moved towards him, then squeezed his shoulder.

  The world returned to normal and Javen saw a lifeless sneer cross Nero’s face. His eyes smiled stonily.

  “If I was gonna kill you today, I’d’ve played it off nice and cool, and then shot you in the hall when you left.” The smile didn’t fade. “You got yourself some talent cadet. And I’m not talking about the test. Coaxing my sinless Lieutenant Brighton into the closet. Can’t say I haven’t tried.” He bared his teeth at Javen, just like his orangutan had. “Enjoy your time with Miss Brighton, Cadet Worth. Just remember, I only promised not to kill you today. Tomorrow’s wide open with possibilities.”

  His dark eyes shifted to the lieutenant and softened. “And my dear Miss Brighton, I couldn’t help but overhear something while I stood outside the closet door. Your sweet angelic voice spoke of hacking my Rodger Bot. The more I think about it, the more I realize I might be wrong about you. Perhaps you aren’t the sinless unicorn you led me to believe. Meddling with Roger for screwy time with boys… not so smart. For your sake, I hope there’s nothing darker hidden in this closet. I’ll be watching you close, lieutenant.”

  The door slammed shut. Javen heard the sound of the lobby doors swing open, then close.

  Brighton’s face was pale. Both of them were breathing hard.

  “Dirty pig,” she whispered under her breath.

  Javen waited a moment. “Ok,” he said, “I’m in.”

  Brighton squinted at him. “Just like that?”

  “I’m not saying I’m for the colonists, but I’m willing to listen. As long as I have doubts about what happened, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Perfect. I’ve got reams of information for you. By the end of the week, you’ll be a colonist. I’ll bet my life on it.”

  “How many others have you found like me?”

  “You mean cadets willing to consider allegiance to the colonists?”

  “Yeah…”

  “You’re the first.”

  * * *

  The End

  Want more exciting sci-fi and fantasy stories from author Brandon Barr? Check out all his books at www.brandonbarr.com and signup for free stories by joining his VIP Newsletter.

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  About the Author

  Brandon Barr’s first works of fiction were sci-fi and fantasy monster stories involving his fifth-grade classmates, many of whom suffered grisly deaths in the tentacled grips of a giant three-eyed squid. Although Brandon has grown up a bit since those prepubescent days, his love for heart-pounding action, high stakes drama and a fast moving plot are what wakes him in the wee hours of the morn to sip his hot cup of caffeinated goodness and write stories that makes his fans (like his 5th grade friends) shout for more.

  He is the author of a dozen science fiction and fantasy novels and short stories. When not writing, Brandon is competing for Dad of the Year Award and giving his three wild boys all he’s got. His author heroes are Michael Crichton, Orson Scott Card, and Ray Bradbury.

  Mowab Rider

  Lucía Ashta

  Mowab Rider © 2017 Lucía Ashta

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction.

  About Mowab Rider

  I’ll go anywhere to find Princess Ilara. Even to the Wilds—where people disappear and don’t come back.

  The rebels are resisting King Oderon’s rule. I don’t blame them, I’d resist too if I could get away with it.

  But the rebels don’t know that. They’ll kill me and never ask questions. Especially now that they’re united by a rebel who can tame the mowabs, the fiercest animals of all Origins.

  Anyone who can ride mowabs must be as beastly as they are. Good thing Dolpheus has my back. We’ll need every one of his skills and all of mine to escape the Mowab Rider with our lives.

  Mowab Rider

  Dolpheus and I were used to the stares. Curious eyes had followed us for so many centuries that I barely noticed them anymore, though tonight I did. Tonight I noticed every sound and movement that didn’t belong to the Koal Desert, the farthest—and most dangerous—region of the Wilds of Planet Origins.

  “What are all these people doing up?” Dolpheus whispered. “The Auxle Sun is still high in the sky. They should be sleeping.”

  That’s what we’d counted on. That’s why we were traveling during the rule of the lesser of the two suns when most people on O slept and when we’d prefer to be sleeping. I said, “I don’t know. Because they don’t trust outsiders?”

  “I guess. If I were them, I wouldn’t trust outsiders either.”

  Outsiders mostly assaulted or killed them. Unless they recognized us, they might assume the same of us. And if they did recognize us, there was a chance they’d accuse us of our previous wrongdoings. We might not have killed gratuitously when we were high-ranking soldiers in King Oderon’s army, but we’d killed.

  The rebels that lived in the Wilds kept to themselves. No one else on all of Origins looked out for them. Even t
he King, who proclaimed to rule for the good of his people, sought only to bring these particular people under his rule—by any means necessary. Before we left the army for potentially dubious and mercenary ways, we’d had to enforce the King’s will. Whomever we’d killed in the Wilds was a parent or child or some other relative of these people who now tracked every one of our moves with eyes as sharp as blades.

  Dolpheus and I were astride our favorite horses. Even though we could have transported here in moments on our own instead of spending long days traveling across O to get here, we were unwilling to leave our horses behind, because we trusted them more than we trusted most humans, and we needed every advantage we could get out here. Besides, we needed stillness to transport and not leave a body part or two behind. And the rebels wouldn’t afford us stillness, not if they decided to attack.

  In our search for Princess Ilara, we’d scour the planet. We’d turn over every rock and search every den. I’d go to the ends of O to find the woman I loved, and Dolpheus, who’d had my back since we were boys, would go to the ends of O with me. Better to have our horses along the way, because I wouldn’t stop until I found her.

  “Whaddya want here?” The hard voice of a woman broke the unnatural silence of the night.

  Since we’d entered the rebels’ dwelling area, I could only make out the sounds of our horses’ hooves falling against the dirt. But the threats were there, observing us from their hiding places, whether I could hear them or not. Dolpheus understood this too. Although he carried himself with his usual poise, his shoulders were hard and straight. Like me, he was on edge.

  I tried to scan the faces of those that watched us from the openings to their dwellings. I always looked to the eyes to gauge a person’s intentions. I searched for the woman who’d spoken.