The Other

by Matthew Buscemi

  The call ended on the doctor’s side, and to the nurse’s obvious great relief, Sahaan lay back down on his bed. The moment Sahaan was settled, the nurse ran out of the room, as though Sahaan might imminently change his mind and decide to try to get up again.

  Sahaan picked up his handheld and dialed Bharo.

  “Hey,” his friend intoned.

  “Hi, Bharo. I’ve gotten the doctors to agree to discharge me tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re going to see Charles.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s the key to all of this.”

  “Have you thought any more about what he said, about the two parties being different but actually the same?”

  “Yeah. It’s just, we already know that. We’ve known that for as long as they’ve existed. Your grandmother said as much thirty years ago.”

  “Well, it looks like I’ll be able to ask him about it myself before too long.”

  “You going to be all right? I mean, are you sure you’re up for the trip?”

  “I have to be.”

  “I wish I was going with you.”

  “You should stay here. Anything could happen. I just only hope his kidnappers didn’t mess him up. For his sake and ours. You focus on getting better. Stay tied into the Hilltop Suite. If this situation goes sideways again, I’m going to need you again soon.”

  “If I’m perfectly honest, I’m worried about what ‘going sideways’ would mean at this point.”

  “Tomorrow’s problem. We should both get some rest.”

  “You’re right. Just one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember in undergrad, there was a Guardian punk who threatened Lachel after a rally, and you ran in and got pummeled?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lachel and I were there to pick you up last time. Are you sure you don’t want to wait just a little while longer?”

  Bharo’s reasoning was impeccable, as always. “The election is only three days away, and you said yourself that the situation with both Charles and Samantha doesn’t feel right. We have to act now. And if Charles is going to talk to anyone after what he’s been through… It’s got to be one of us.”

  A long pause. “Okay. Take care of yourself, Sahaan.”

  “You too, Bharo.”

  ~

  Dr. Aarogy arrived promptly at eight-thirty the next morning. She carried with her a computer pad, and in her wake followed a small army of medical staff. They first closed the curtains so that Sahaan could get himself dressed properly, then opened the curtains and helped Sahaan get out of bed and into a wheelchair.

  One of the staff, another doctor, appeared next Dr. Aarogy.

  “This is Dr. Darshak.”

  Sahaan introduced himself.

  “Dr. Darshak will be accompanying you as far as Citrine Station.”

  “Thank you for making yourself available for this,” Sahaan said.

  Dr. Darshak nodded curtly, his expression flat.

  The two doctors receded into the hall while other staff busied themselves packing up Sahaan’s things. Before too much longer, the doctors returned.

  “This is where we part ways,” Dr. Aarogy said. “Good luck, Dr. Ekeer.”

  “Thank you,” Sahaan said, hoping his smile fully conveyed how appreciative he was for her help. For all their help. He could only hope that his trip to Citrine would prove worth the effort, expense, and risk.

  Dr. Darshak took Sahaan’s wheelchair and rolled them down the hall, into an elevator, through reception, and out to a van waiting in front of the hospital. The morning air felt wonderful on his skin. He’d been cooped up indoors for far too long. Even the rush of a passing gust of wind lifted his spirits.

  The doctor came around in front of Sahaan and extended a cane toward him. Sahaan took it in his left hand and slowly pulled himself up to a stance, Dr. Darshak bracing him by his right arm. Together, they were able to move forward into the van, where Sahaan strapped himself in and set his cane upon the floor beside himself. Dr. Darshak entered through the opposite door of the van and instructed the driver to take them to Adamantine station.

  The van took off away from the hospital, across a country road, its periphery dotted with Alterran flora. Before long, they merged onto a highway, the tall, gray walls visible not more than twenty meters beyond it.

  “How many other patients have I diverted you from, Dr. Darshak?”

  Dr. Darshak remained impassive. “They all have other doctors now.”

  “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

  “You talked to the first visitor, correct?”

  “Yes. For three days.”

  “What do they want now, after all these years?”

  “He didn’t know. He had memory problems.”

  “So he says.”

  “I believe Charles’s confusion was genuine. But there was something he remembered. I think it was something crucial. He wanted to tell me about it before we got on the train in Citrine.” Sahaan examined the doctor’s face. His brow was knit and he gazed impassively forward. Seemingly impassive. There was something more. “You don’t believe the visitors have anything of value to share?”

  Dr. Darshak released a sigh. “I tend to vote Reconciliation. Most especially when I see a candidate like Gadh. I recognize him as a pompous, arrogant fool. But I understand the appeal. You see, doctor, I don’t really want ‘reconciliation,’ in the sense of the process rather than the party. We used to ask ourselves how we were going to make the Reclamation better. We talked of adding new cities. We talked of new infrastructure, new parks, new beaches. What happened to all that? I don’t care what the nanite-bodied do so long as they don’t bother us anymore. I understand the practical limits and political dangers of expanding the walls. But I don’t particularly want us contacting the nanite-bodied, either. I want them to just leave us alone.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll ever be certain that they’ll leave us alone if we don’t talk to them. Do you know why they’re not talking to us this way?”

  “On the news, they said it’s because they changed their language.”

  “Charles told us that the way they communicate has changed so much that this is actually one of the more efficient means of communication.”

  Dr. Darshak shook his head. “It’s all so complicated.”

  Sahaan took a moment to ponder the irony of Dr. Darshak possessing an advanced degree in medicine. He suppressed a smirk. “Politics has always been complicated.”

  The van exited the highway, and Adamantine Station’s blue facade came into view on Sahaan’s left. Beyond it, he could see the highway turn into the enormous suspension bridge spanning the Asym River. Soon, they would be entering the service road connected to the station’s departure terminal.

  “How are you feeling?” Dr. Darshak asked. “Any dizziness or fatigue?”

  “I feel fine,” Sahaan replied, quite honestly. The thought of boarding the train did induce a bit of trepidation, but he then thought of coming home to Lachel, of Jaan growing up in a world safe from the threat of having one’s body forcibly altered, of all the people counting on him to figure out what the nanite-bodied wanted.

  The van came to halt in front of the departure terminal, and Sahaan began the arduous task of getting himself out of the van, stabilizing himself, and then moving through the terminal with Dr. Darshak at his side. An eerie vacancy permeated the terminal. There were people, certainly, but they were mostly station staff and military. Martial law, Sahaan recalled, though he supposed the president might be close to lifting that decree. If Samantha were to finally start talking, that might just do it.

  Sahaan found himself able to walk with the use of the cane, albeit slowly, through the terminal. Where there would have normally been queues, there was only empty space. The ambient music from hidden speakers seemed too loud, though its volume was in fact quite low.

  He and Dr. Darshak bought tickets from the single open kiosk. Sahaan’s government ID sufficed to
clear both of them without further inquiry. They then proceeded through the terminal and down a long flight of stairs onto the platform for Adamantine-Citrine line.

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the train became visible, a sleek, white row of passenger cars, very different from the military train he’d taken out of Citrine five days prior.

  “How are you doing?” Dr. Darshak asked.

  “Fine.” Sahaan wondered how often he’d have to validate his condition for Dr. Darshak.

  They boarded at once, found their seats, and Sahaan let out a long breath as he sank into the soft cushions. He closed his eyes and took more breaths in and out. If he was honest, his back and his side were on fire.

  “Here.” Dr. Darshak’s voice.

  Sahaan opened his eyes and found the doctor standing before him holding a pair of pills.

  “What are these?”

  “A painkiller. It was in your IV before, but you’ve been off that for a few hours now.”

  Sahaan grabbed them up. Probably a sedative, too, but he wasn’t about to argue. As long he was lucid when they arrived in Citrine.

  “Water?” the doctor asked.

  “That would be nice.”

  The doctor rummaged around in his bag, which he’d stored over their seats, and produced a water bottle. Sahaan took it, gulped down the pills, and then the rest of the water as well.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  The doctor sat down across from him. He did his best to avoid eye contact with Sahaan, giving Sahaan the distinct impression that the doctor was holding back a question.

  “Something on your mind?” Sahaan asked.

  The doctor shook his head. Then, all at once, said, “You must get questions about your family all the time.”

  Actually, most adults, like the doctor, avoided the topic for the same reason he likely was. “What do you want to know?” Sahaan asked.

  “We were so keen to show the Alterrans the error of their ways in splitting their University and Monastery the way they did, and here we are doing the same thing all over again with political parties just four generations later. What was Mox thinking?”

  “Mox wasn’t trying to create political parties. He just wanted his kids to think critically about solutions to our problems and come up with plans. He just assumed that they would eventually come around to the same conclusion. It didn’t work out that way. I don’t think even my grandmother wanted to create a new party. It just kind of formed around her.”

  The train car had seen a steady stream of military personnel entering and taking seats, but only about a third of the seats had been taken. A chime sounded, and an automated message announced that the train would be departing soon.

  “They couldn’t see that that would happen?” Dr. Darshak asked.

  Sahaan shook his head. “Not even nearly. In politics, we make the best decisions we can based on our experience, but the effects, especially the very long term effects, are rarely discernible in the present. Take our present situation. Charles and Samantha are both an extraordinary opportunity to learn more about the others we share this world with. It’s also a very dangerous situation that has to be carefully navigated. I can steer us through the current storm, even make sure we’re set up for the next ten or twenty years, but I can’t know what effects my decision will have fifty or a hundred years out. I have to count on the fact that the system will provide a steady stream of recruits into my field, who will steer through all of my unintended consequences down the road.”

  “Because people are complex.”

  Sahaan nodded.

  The train’s engine kicked in, and an automated message announced that the doors had been locked and the train was now underway.

  Sahaan noticed his eyes had started to droop. “Was there a sedative in that medication?”

  Dr. Darshak nodded. “It’s primarily a painkiller. But, yes. It’s a mild sedative.”

  “Will I be awake when we arrive?”

  “You should be. It’s a very small dose.”

  “I’ll just rest my eyes then.”

  The doctor nodded, and Sahaan closed his eyes and let his mind rest. He felt awake enough at first, but all at once, no time seeming to have passed, he awoke the sound of voices. Loud voices. His eyes flitted open to seen of Dr. Darshak standing over him looking out the window of their train car. Across the passageway down the middle of the train car, a pair of military officers was staring out their window as well. The lighting in the cabin had dimmed and a red light strobed through the cabin. The light, Sahaan realized, was coming from outside—shock jolted him fully awake. Those were the emergency lights built into the walls lining the railway on both sides.

  He caught one of the voices around him, a female officer trying to turn on the holocaster built into the ceiling of the train car. She succeeded, and a journalist appeared, hovering above them all. The officer yelled for everyone on the train to quiet down while simultaneously raising the volume of the broadcast.

  “—containment fields are again holding off further incursion from this latest incident.

  “For viewers just joining us, an incident has occurred at the nanite quarantine center where the visitor named Samantha was being held. The center has been overrun with evolver nanites. According to the final data transmitted from the center before its primary systems went offline, Samantha herself was the source of these nanites. Full quarantine procedures were initiated the moment the release of these nanites was detected. An estimated ninety-six government researchers and military personnel were trapped inside. It is believed that all of these individuals have been forcibly transformed into nanite-bodied, but we will not know more until reconnaissance nanites can be programmed to enter the center. Vice President Aasaan Dokha was also inside the center and is presumed to have been transformed as well. Emergency generators throughout Portal City have been activated, and the center’s containment fields have so far prevented incursion beyond the quarantine center itself. President Aavee is preparing to address the nation, which will be broadcast shortly…”

  Sahaan felt his pockets, pulled out his handheld, and dialed the Citrine regional government. After focusing the distracted and frantic receptionist, Sahaan managed to get a line into Citrine’s quarantine center.

  “Sergeant Major Semaag. Make this quick.”

  “Senior Consul to the President, Sahaan Ekeer. I need to know Charles’s status.”

  “As far as we can tell, sir, he’s the same as always. We’re watching him on the cameras now. I’m having everyone evacuated to the very perimeter of the complex. I’m not risking anyone in there at this point.”

  “You said no change, right?”

  “Yessir. No change. What do you think they did to set off the other one?”

  “I’m not sure they did anything at all, Sergeant.”

  “Would you like me to call you back on this line if Charles’s situation changes?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Good luck, sir.”

  “I will be seeing you soon.” Sahaan glanced out the window. They had passed the crest in the mountain pass. “From the looks of it, I’ll be in Citrine within the hour.”

  “See you soon then, sir.”

  Sahaan ended the call and sat down.

  Dr. Darshak sat down across from him, staring over Sahaan’s shoulder, mouth agape, stunned. He seemed to collect himself and looked at Sahaan, taking a deep breath.

  “I suppose you’ll be heading back right away then. I mean, not much to do in Citrine besides figure out how to get the Charles one safely out of the Reclamation, right?”

  Sahaan shook his head. “Not at all.”

  “How do you mean? Isn’t he a ticking time bomb?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh?”

  “I think he’s genuine.” Sahaan revealed a smirk. “And I think I’ve finally understood what he was trying to tell me three days ago. ‘Different, but actually the same,’ he said.”

 
; Dr. Darshak raised an eyebrow. “I’m not following.”

  “He and Samantha aren’t alike at all. From the same place, but actually different.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I could still be wrong. I’ll have to talk to Charles in person to find out.” Sahaan leaned back in his seat. Out the window, the walls still flared red. Inside his train car, people were still talking in raised voices. Sahaan sat calmly, the train tipping forward as they began their descent from the mountains.

  He was about to bet his life that he was right. Was he that certain? Certain enough to risk it for Lachel and Jaan and the Reconciliation Party and perhaps even the entire Reclamation?

  Yes. He most certainly was.

  ~

  The subsequent hours passed through Sahaan ephemerally—a fraught conversation with Lachel, a protracted conversation with Dr. Darshak about Sahaan’s theory, exiting the train, hailing a cab to the facility, Dr. Darshak insisting on coming along, at least as far as the facility perimeter to see how Sahaan’s hypothesis would be proven out. Even Sahaan’s physical pain seemed a distant and insubstantial thing, barely registering as his mind ran through the scenarios. If he was right, how to convince people, how to make contact, how to keep Charles safe? So many problems, and very few individuals he could really trust.

  The cab driver let them out at the gates to the facility, the driver obviously impatient at Sahaan taking so long to get himself out of the car. As soon as he’d received his fare, his car hurtled off away from the place.

  A man with a Sergeant Major’s uniform approached Sahaan and Dr. Darshak. Three other officers stood at his sides.

  “Sergeant Major Semaag?”

  “Dr. Ekeer. Welcome.”

  The sergeant held forth a computer tablet, and Sahaan took it in his right hand. Its display showed Charles, sitting alone in the same room where Sahaan had talked to him three days prior. Charles had his head on the table, his arms wrapped over it.

  “He’s been like that since we evacuated to the perimeter,” Semaag said.

  “Thank you,” Sahaan said. “I’ll be going in now. Please show me the way.”

  The sergeant and his subordinates bristled.

  “Is that wise?” Semaag asked.