Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework

Home > Other > Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework > Page 9
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework Page 9

by Randolph Lalonde


  Chapter 11

  Potential

  Jonas was still trying to process the idea of boarding the ship that would take him and his engineering team to All-Con Prime. Academy training was supposed to prepare you for it - the departure, the adjustment - but it didn’t do the whole job.

  Everyone knew the war raged on there, and that he was a very small part of Freeground’s final, all-or-nothing push to win a war that had cost too much in lives and resources. That ship, the Courser, was going to be his home for a long time if the war continued to draw on. Past the boarding ramp, he could see the thick, battered hull. There were signs of repair all across its three-quarter kilometre length, and seeing some of that up close was as daunting as it was amazing.

  He’d seen big ships up close before, but this was a war ship, with rail cannons so big he could walk through one of their barrels without crouching. His father noticed him staring open-mouthed and Jonas caught him smiling.

  “Sorry, first time I’ve seen it this close up,” Jonas said.

  His father waved his comment off mildly with a calloused hand. “This trip will change you.”

  Other recruits in tan and grey moved up the boarding ramp past them, all carrying everything they would depend on in a backpack and a case. He hid his long coat in the bottom of his backpack, refusing to leave it at home. The excitement of embarking on a long journey to another world was almost overwhelming. Though he wanted to skip the awkward goodbye his father would initiate, Jonas owed him that much.

  His father was a great engineer, a man who respected a solid day’s work, and something built much more than something bought. He turned towards him and, to his surprise, found his father’s steady hand on his shoulder.

  He offered his hand and Jonas shook it, trying to match his father’s grip. “I’m proud of you,” he said, his voice steady and thick with emotion.

  They remained there, frozen for a couple of seconds before his father nodded as if sure he’d said all he needed to then let go of his son’s hand and turned away.

  The academy had been hard, but he’d graduated with high marks. He was a terrible shot, but got through boot camp and the physical training all through his mandatory period of conditioning, though there was never much indication that his father cared enough to track his progress. They didn’t talk about it, and Jonas even suspected that his father didn’t approve of him joining the Freeground Fleet.

  But what his father said changed everything. He didn’t only have his father’s approval, but he felt he’d proven himself. He was ready to board the Courser, to do something important in the galaxy.

  The perfect memory faded, and a flood of information assaulted him. He lived every moment as Jonas right until he saved the First Light by surrendering to Vindyne. His memories as Jacob began then, starting with his rough birth aboard the Samson.

  They weren’t just memories, they were the ultimate recollection of being. He was Jonas. Suddenly, that entire set of experiences fit with who he had been for years, Jacob Valance. He hadn’t felt like he was one man, living one life since he’d discovered the hidden mental storehouse of Jonas’ memories, but something had drastically changed, and he felt integrated.

  He regained consciousness slowly, discovering pulsing pain coming from three parts of his body: his hip, his leg, and his arm. He could see them as though sensing with his framework systems, which were partially disabled every time the mini electromagnetic pulse rounds his captors shot him with while he was unconscious went off.

  Jake was also keenly aware of the fact that he’d just recovered from death. The people who took him damaged his brain badly enough for his backup systems to load all of his memories back into a freshly constructed one, and from what he could tell, they got it right for the first time.

  He’d never been aware of his framework systems before, never had control, but he could feel everything. After a particularly painful pulse, he concentrated on forcing his working framework systems to draw power from the devices. It took more effort than he’d ever put into anything to think through the pulsating rounds, through the convulsions, but after a few seconds the shocks began to diminish.

  They were down to almost nothing when he started to pretend that he was still convulsing, faking a twitch fit every three seconds.

  He opened his eyes to slits and observed. One man was sitting right next to him, holding an automatic rifle across his lap. Two more were in the front of the shuttle, and another was in the rear. Jake was on the floor in the middle. The dim shuttle was crowded with supplies from the Enforcer.

  The framework had finished absorbing all the energy from the rounds, and it offered him a new option: to use the remaining material to build something. As soon as he thought about a high-range sub-dermal communicator, his body began generating thousands of nanobots internally.

  He faked one more twitch, and satisfied that his captors didn’t notice anything strange, he decided on his next action. Jacob waited three seconds, then, instead of faking a twitch, he jerked towards the man sitting beside him and yanked his rifle out of his hands.

  He fired five rounds at the guard in the rear, scoring three hits to his face. The faceplate of the less durable crew vacsuit broke, but he was still alive when Jake shot him twice more.

  Stronger, Jake thought as he brought the butt of the rifle around and smashed the rifleman in the head. Framework materialisers began working, and Jake could feel something changing. A second later he had the answer – they were causing a shift in his muscle density and size, suppressing pain as the work began.

  Jake grabbed the struggling rifleman by the back of his hood and hauled him out of his seat, tripping him to the floor between him and the cockpit. “Do you want to live?” Jake asked through his teeth as he pointed the rifle at the man’s head.

  “God dammit!” shouted one of the men up front as he turned around, drawing his sidearm. It was another slug thrower, possibly loaded with the same disabling shells that Jacob had been shot with before.

  Jake opened fire on the copilot, raking him with rounds from his hand to his shoulder. He was alive, saved by his vacsuit, but he’d dropped his sidearm. The rifleman on the deck between them tried to sweep Jake's feet out from under him, but he recovered at the last moment.

  Jacob had enough, and stepped on the rifleman’s neck, feeling more physically powerful than he could ever remember. Muscles tightened like thick cords drawn on heavy winches. Jake braced his hand against the low ceiling of the craft and looked at the man underfoot.

  The rifleman stared back in horror, trying to push Jake’s foot off his throat as it was forced down. “You’ll remember how this feels for the rest of your life, just like I remember how it feels to die.”

  The hardened vacsuit protected the man’s neck, but only to a point. The framework system finished augmenting and improving Jake’s body, and with new strength he crushed through the vacsuit with a loud pop, then the man’s neck and spine with a wet crunch. Emergency stasis might save him, but it was never a sure thing.

  Jacob turned his hateful glare towards the copilot with a twitch that made the man flinch. “You can take your punishment now, or in front of witnesses,” Jake told him.

  The copilot raised his hands and nodded. He was joined by the pilot, who quickly took in the scene in the cabin before saying: “with witnesses.”

  Chapter 12

  Ghosts

  Eve had eaten, washed, and completed other human tasks. Lina insisted, getting in the way until Eve gave in. The little woman was insufferable, and always close at hand.

  "What else is there to know?" Eve asked herself as she entered a media room, something she didn't need before. It was a circular space with seating for about eight in the middle.

  "About what?" Lina asked.

  "I was talking to myself," Eve snapped. Using her uplink to the database of the Overlord II didn't feel right somehow. She could read detailed reports at an incredible pace, but when it came to viewing visual recording
s, she was limited by what her primitive eyes could process. Lina suggested they adjourn to the media room so they could watch the collection of holographic records in comfort. Eve relented out of fear that the woman would make an issue of it until she complied anyway.

  Eve sighed and sat down beside Lina on the circular centre seat. "I've already developed a framework copy of someone using the same formula that was utilised when Jacob Valance was created. His name was Beaudric, and because I played on his emotions using the personal history we implanted in him, it worked perfectly."

  "What happened to him?"

  "Someone hijacked my body and convinced him that he should assassinate the Child Prophet."

  "But nothing's happened to the Child Prophet. He was preaching just yesterday."

  Eve couldn't believe that she had momentarily forgotten that there was an android walking around pretending to be the Child Prophet. She reminded herself to ask Hampon why they couldn't just replace the clone, and why he made one for himself in the first place. It would have been much easier to create a framework instead.

  Lina's clearance level didn't allow her to discover that Hampon was a fake, even though it was almost as high as it could be. His last sermon addressed the enemies of the Order of Eden, and how they threatened their quest for purity. "I see," was all Eve offered in response. "Then Beaudric was not successful. I'm glad," she reinforced the lie mechanically.

  "So, you were able to make your own Jonas and you're wondering why General Hampon doesn't see it as finished work?"

  "Exactly," Eve replied, surprised that Lina had caught on. She called up the recordings she wanted. "It has something to do with this limiter chip, I think. I couldn't see these records before, they were isolated from available storage. Since this section of the ship blocks all wireless signals and isn't connected to the rest of the Overlord, I couldn't get access."

  "We see a great deal within the inner chambers of the Order. It is one of the gifts a Senior West Watcher enjoys. Our discipline and respect is demonstrated by our silence."

  "I see," Eve muttered. "I should learn more about your discipline."

  "I'd be happy to show you," Lina offered enthusiastically.

  "It would be faster if I read it myself." Eve summoned the record most viewed by Hampon, Collins, and Meunez. It was seven years old. She was mystified at the image that appeared around them. Two identical Jonas Valents sat across a simple metal table from each other in a small room.

  Her deception with Beaudric, ensuring that he thought he was the only one, was key to recreating someone as a framework being. Why they would expose a framework to his original was beyond her. The record stated it was the fourteenth time the copy of Jonas Valent had been imprinted. It was the fifth time Jonas had met his double.

  Eve started the playback and watched as the figures came to life.

  "I'm not the original," the one on the right said. "Pretty good copy, though. I was really convinced for a minute there."

  "It's been the same every time. They hit the reset switch, re-scan me, burn whatever they're looking for into your head and bring you back," replied the one on the left. The pair seemed more amused than anything. Their heart rates were reading as calm.

  "What's the point?"

  "I'm convinced it's the most expensive form of torture ever invented. Then again, I don't mind your company. The repetition might get to me after a while, though. What was it that Minh used to say?"

  "If variety is the spice of life," started the copy.

  "Then redundancy is a kitchen filled with endlessly boiling pots of noodles."

  The pair laughed. She felt she was watching an out of sync mirror. There was something unsettling about seeing Jonas - the most well known terrorist in the galaxy - doubled.

  "Why are you still here? No chance to escape?"

  "I've had a few chances," said Jonas to his doppelgänger slyly.

  "You're protecting Freeground."

  He nodded. "Break the deal and Vindyne starts pointing the big guns towards home."

  "So we're down to what, passive resistance? I've only been awake a few minutes and I'm already pissed we're still here. You've gotta be about ready to rip your hair out."

  "Freeground doesn't need Vindyne's full attention. If I can slow them down by taking my meds and sitting here, then that's what I'll do."

  "Well, I don't have to sit here like a lab stooge," the copy declared. "I have an idea."

  "That's new."

  "Maybe I'm a little smarter than the others," the copy said with a shrug. "Anyway, I know if I were sitting where you're sitting, I would only want there to be one of me. Nothing feels right anyway, so..." The copy closed his eyes.

  "What's the idea?"

  "I can feel..." The duplicate paused a moment, searching for the right words, "how my flesh is connected. It's like a name on the tip of my tongue. If I can only remember it, I'll be able to take complete control."

  "Seriously?"

  "There it is. I can feel where the memories were burned in. Nice knowing you, Jonas," said the copy as he began to concentrate harder.

  "Remember the last thing my father said to me?"

  "Don't get all sappy on me, now. I'm just another Vindyne product."

  "Well, if there's one thing you should remember, it's what he said."

  "Thanks, now that's the first thing I'll forget." He gripped the edge of the table, white-knuckled and gnashing his teeth. "Here we go."

  The door burst open and men in Vindyne uniforms grabbed the copy, injecting him with a sedative. The copy's heart rate spiked instead. It only lasted a moment, but apparently it gave him enough time to accomplish his goal. Moments later - after the copy fell into unconsciousness - Hampon entered the room with a high resolution scanning tool in his hand. He still looked healthy, just beginning his decline.

  After a moment of scanning the copy's head, Hampon dropped the scanner. "He did it himself. He wiped his own memory clean. There's nothing but trace fragments left and they're degrading," he said to one of the walls. Collins was watching from behind it.

  The recording ended and Eve sat back. "He took complete control," she concluded aloud. "But how can he remain in the condition he's in for so long when he can just start modifying himself? No one can remain intact with that kind of self-access. You could dream that your heart stops beating, and the connection could make it happen. A bout of paranoia or fear could bring on a physical attack, which would be lethal if it wasn't caught in time."

  Hampon's younger self reappeared in front of them. Eve knew Hampon was controlling the hologram from his central chamber. She didn't blame him for using a younger, healthier image to communicate. "That is why the Jonas project was so important. Something in his subconscious mind was keeping the framework stable, helping him direct the control he had and release it when it could cause harm. We theorised that it was a strong self-image, perhaps a level of mental health that was rare, or any number of other factors, but we never found out for certain. Our trials with Wheeler discounted the theory that there was something in their early Freeground training that instilled what they required at a young age. After another year of probing, we still had nothing."

  "So you allowed him to be rescued by Alice," Eve replied. "To see how long he would remain stable in the wild?"

  "No. We could have done that in a controlled environment. We wanted him to evolve. It was impossible for us to re-imprint Jonas' memories, so we installed knowledge of medicine, engineering, combat, and other modules and let Meunez leak his whereabouts. For reasons of his own, he needed a way to find out where Alice was, and he would be allowed to pursue her after the copy of Jonas was rescued."

  "Has he evolved since?"

  "The only record of him exhibiting direct control over his framework body is from Pandem, when a long time associate, Ayan Rice, was mortally wounded. The backup chip in his neck had already managed to bypass whatever was preventing the framework from being implanted with memories. It was installing Jonas
Valent's memories, so we assume it was an emotional response, instinctive."

  "I can't find any record of you creating frameworks with psychological modifications that were made to match subject four. Did you ever try?"

  "Yes. The results were unpleasant."

  "Show me."

  The image of Hampon was replaced with a coffin-like box featuring a framework skeleton. The empty sockets of its shiny silver skull seemed to stare at them until it was activated. The materialiser system built into the framework built the flesh from the bone outward, inspiring a gasp from Lina. She cringed and uttered, "oh my God," from behind a hand covering her mouth.

  In less than a minute, the nondescript male framework construct drew breath. It was an advanced model, not only able to materialise flesh and bone while collecting energy from its surroundings, but capable of materialising a lightly armoured uniform. It knelt down and picked up its rifle. It stepped into its boots and put on its helmet.

  A shot came from behind them, sizzling against the framework's box. He took aim and fired at something that was out of sight, not part of the recording. His grip and posture was perfect, something common to the basic male soldier framework model.

  A bolt of energy struck its arm, leaving a burn mark on the light armour. The construct barely flinched. Before their eyes the damage to his armour was repaired as he continued to fire. His face began to change colour to match his uniform. Over the next few seconds, Eve and Lina watched as the construct's skin turned into the same armoured plating as his armour and blood began to seep through the cracks.

  The construct stopped firing after a moment, no longer able to see, and fell to his knees. The spectacle became worse, as the armour softened, shifted, but didn't become proper skin.

  "What's happening to him?" asked Lina, flinching her gaze away as a low moan escaped the construct's lips.

 

‹ Prev