by KT Belt
The room was filled with work related material and almost nothing else. The walls were covered by long, drawn-out theories and mathematical equations that, to her, looked like gibberish. Handwritten notes annotated his labor: “Work Harder,” “Failure,” “Not Good Enough,” “Keep Working.” She couldn’t help but wonder if they had somehow stumbled into Caelus’s quarters. The single-minded obsession certainly fit that android more than one of the politest people she’d ever met, sorten or otherwise. But Rauon was slowly finding his things, making that possibility less and less likely. And then her eyes fell on one of his work desks and the picture laid front and center on it. She recognized Rauon in the picture but none of the other sortens. It was annotated with the words “Never Forget.”
“All right, I’ve found what I needed. Sorry for the delay,” he said as he walked toward her. Carmen held short of commenting on his quarters. Unable to think of anything else to say, she nodded. “Now we just need to figure out how to get back,” he added with a groan.
“I don’t know how you work here without being driven mad,” she remarked as they started walking back.
Rauon laughed lightly. “Perhaps that’s why the project leader designed this place like this. It’s as good a reason as any.”
“He really designed all of this?” Carmen asked.
“Essentially,” the sorten answered. “The project leader is greatly respected for his research. If he requires his labs and facilities to be constructed in a certain way, no one will question why.”
“Perhaps they should have,” she remarked.
“Perhaps. However, Solitary has been the birthplace of countless breakthroughs. Results are results. Caelus has never really given any detailed rationale for why this facility is built this way, but he often says we need to push to the edge of reason and beyond to unravel the great mystery.”
“He’s definitely a bit beyond reason,” Carmen said under her breath.
The head technician eyed her as she spoke and then seemed visibly disappointed. “To be fair to him, there is nothing rational about Clairvoyants and their abilities.”
She shrugged. “I guess that’s true.”
Rauon looked Carmen up and down several times then, which prompted a quizzical look from her in return.
“Yes?” she asked.
“No, that would be stupid,” he said to himself.
She raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”
“Psyche, would you be interested in an experiment?”
She was curious—in fact, quite so. Prudence, however, was not hard to muster. “What kind of experiment?”
“This conversation got me thinking. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see just how clairvoyant the Clairvoyant is.”
“Come again?”
“I’d like to see if you can get us to where we need to go with no input from me,” he elaborated.
Carmen looked at him, her face completely blank. “You can’t be serious.”
“Quite,” Rauon replied as he took out his PDD to take notes. “And don’t read me or anyone else. That would obviously invalidate the results.”
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Never. I’m not really sure what to expect,” he said.
“Okay,” Carmen muttered softly to herself.
She started walking down the hall in the direction they were already going. That was easy enough. Rauon followed her, purposely out of sight and taking notes the entire time. She wasn’t sure what to expect either. She got directions the same as everyone else whenever she needed to get somewhere.
They entered the large circular room from before, and her first test was upon her. The sortens visibly jumped when she entered.
“Never mind us. Just an experiment,” Rauon reassured them.
Carmen ignored the sortens. Her mind raced and her Clairvoyant senses were at full alert, yet she still had no clue what their destination was or how to get there. The only thing she did know was that they needed to get in the elevator. Several sortens aimlessly made their best guess as to which door it was, same as she did. She heard several talking amongst themselves about their personal methods for figuring out this abhorrent room. To her, the conversations seemed like nothing more than admissions that they too had no idea how to get anywhere. But, unlike the sortens, Carmen didn’t waste her time trying to explicate the nonsensical. She simply walked toward a door that seemed as good a prospect as any.
She approached the door, hand outstretched. Doubt, for whatever reason, was her overwhelming feeling. The confirmation for her intuition came when the elevator door opened…at the other end of the room. A fresh group of sortens were offloaded into the maelstrom, and Carmen walked toward the elevator. The sortens, however, stood in place while the Clairvoyant knifed through the crowd. None dared to join her and Rauon in the elevator, despite his reassurances. It was quite obvious that being stuck in the room for another few minutes was a better alternative than being stuck in an elevator with a Clairvoyant. Despite that, she noted their longing though wary looks as the elevator door closed.
Rauon furiously took notes next to her. She ignored him while she tried to figure out what floor they were supposed to go to. Just then, the elevator door opened again, since they had yet to move. The sortens waiting in the room looked at her in shock, surprised she was still in the elevator.
“Sorry,” she muttered, frustrated that she couldn’t remember which button Rauon had initially pressed.
The door eventually closed again, and she was left with the sound of the sorten’s note-taking. She noticed that the volume of his notes was different depending on which button her finger hovered over. The elevator opened again.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said, annoyed.
Then Carmen pressed a button and hoped for the best. When the door opened again, it was at the requested level. She looked at Rauon before she stepped out. His look in return was encouraging, like a parent urging their child to take their first steps.
She walked out of the elevator with him in tow and entered the meandering corridors of Solitary. This one was just as empty and nondescript as its kin. It was hard to know if she’d ever been on this level before. It was harder to know if where they needed to go was even some place she’d been before. The doubt that was with her in the elevator remained her company, but now she felt oddly pressed to continue.
Her pace was not swift. To anyone watching, it seemed like the Clairvoyant was feeling out every step she took. She ran her hand along the wall for no particular reason. Then that felt wrong, and she walked over to the opposite side of the corridor and did the same thing with her other hand.
She could have been walking in circles over and over again without knowing it in this hell. It was hard to be completely sure; everything looked just slightly different in its sheer sameness. That subtle aspect of Solitary’s design was just as vexing as everything else about it. She sighed softly and, perhaps as silent protest, suddenly felt the need to walk on the ceiling. Rauon’s PDD nearly melted from his note-taking when she continued the trek upside down. She had her fill in only a few seconds and returned to the floor to walk like everyone else.
Carmen glanced at Rauon before she continued. His eager, bright eyes met hers, but he said nothing. She decided it was a pretty fair guess that the little experiment wasn’t over. Her hand soon found a seam for one of the panels hidden in the walls, and she walked into the next corridor after another soft sigh.
The new corridor looked exactly the same, which made her eyes grow wide.
She went through another hidden exit built into the walls and entered another corridor that looked exactly the same as the previous two. This time, she sneered, though her feelings of doubt didn’t grow in intensity, which was as good a sign as any. It was the only thing she had to go on at this point.
On they went till the corridor split into two. Of course, they looked exactly the same. She started down one of them before abruptly stopping for reasons she’d
never consciously know. Then she chose the other. It wasn’t a pinprick on her consciousness, which was at times a Clairvoyant’s closest company that made her change her mind. There was no prompting at all, as far as she could tell. It just seemed right.
Her head turned slowly back and forth as she went. She had no idea what she was looking for. Nevertheless, a determined focus came to Carmen’s face. Her pace slowed for no particular reason, and her eyes fixed on a section of the wall. She was certain there was a panel behind it. Her hands felt along the wall yet discovered nothing. She rolled her eyes when she realized the panel was a half-step to her left.
“No, Psyche, don’t,” Rauon said when she moved to open it, but his words came too late.
Carmen froze in place. This wasn’t a new corridor that looked exactly the same as every other, nor even an elevator. The space was darkened, and she could hear people talking even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She walked inside, entranced. Rauon made another protest she didn’t acknowledge. The room opened up after a short hallway. A couple more steps let her see banks upon banks of computers. A few sorten technicians were talking with someone on some sort of comlink system.
“We’ve completed the latest batch of tests. Arch Angel Alpha is now eighty percent the overall capability of Phoenix,” the person they were communicating with said. “Arch Angel Beta is at eighty-seven percent,” he continued.
“Did you receive subjects 143 to 149?” one of the technicians asked.
“Yes,” the person on the comlink said. “They will be ready for tests with Arch Angel Prime in no more than two days.”
Carmen had no idea what they were talking about. Rauon was doing everything short of grabbing her to get her to leave. She ignored him, but it was a short-lived effort.
“What are you doing here!” a sorten guard yelled at them. He trained his weapon on her, and she raised her hands to show she wasn’t looking for a fight. “Director Mu—” he began, activating his intercom.
“No, no, the security director is not needed,” Rauon said hurriedly, cutting him off.
“Explain yourself!” the guard spat.
Rauon stood between him and Carmen. “We’re just conducting an experiment. She walked inside before I could stop her,” he answered quickly. “She didn’t know this was a restricted area.”
The guard looked at him and then eyed Carmen suspiciously. “Terrans can’t be trusted. You know what they are capable of.”
“You can trust her,” Rauon said. “If she wanted to kill us, she would have done so already. Do you honestly think you’d be able to stop her alone otherwise?” The guard paused for a moment and looked between the two of them again. “We’ll be on our way. Report this to the project leader if you must, but do not saying anything to Mugal.” Then Rauon turned to Carmen. “Let’s go.”
“Why don’t you want him telling Mugal?” Carmen asked as he tried to rush her out of the room.
“Because this would be all the excuse he needs to terminate the two of you,” Rauon responded. “Come on, get going,” he said.
She took her time nonetheless, her eyes and ears at complete attention.
“Transiting to new position. Next communication in a standard week,” the person on the other end of the comlink said.
Carmen heard no response. In only a few seconds, Rauon ushered her out of the room, and the panel was closed behind them. She stood still for a moment and stared at the wall while she came to grips with what had just happened.
“What is that room?” she asked.
Rauon hesitated. “Comm room.” Carmen nodded. “Let me lead,” he continued as he began walking, making it quite apparent that it wasn’t a request. “We don’t need any other surprises.”
She nodded again and dutifully followed, and the two of them walked in silence. It amazed her that anyone was able to have any sense of direction in this place. Rauon kept glancing in her direction. After about the fourth or fifth time, she gave him a curious look.
Tentative, he asked, “You didn’t go there on purpose, did you?”
“You can’t be serious,” she said. “I really don’t know how anyone is able to find anything here.”
Rauon nodded slowly. “I didn’t think so.”
His pace quickened after that exchange, and he seemed to regain his cautiously optimistic confidence again. They were back at the elevator sooner than Carmen thought possible. She had only been off by a floor from where they were supposed to be. Rauon kept his fast pace. She guessed their diversion had put them a little behind. Wandering the featureless corridors for only a few more minutes brought them to the medical bay. She wondered why they were back here but didn’t think it was worth asking. Rauon walked inside without pause. She was unable to do so as casually.
The dying or dead Clairvoyant Constructs were arrayed in gruesome efficiency. Pieces of some sat on the beds and in isolation chambers all around her. The medical bay seemed more a lab than a place of healing.
“Please wait a moment. I must set up some equipment,” Rauon said, not appearing to notice her reticence.
Carmen nodded glumly, though he wasn’t looking at her. She hadn’t ventured much past the entrance. Her Clairvoyant senses were fully aware and there was nothing she could think to do to mute them. Her arms came to her on their own accord, wrapping around her chest in a hug. Yet, she could not avert her eyes from the horror. From her first step, she was submerged in it.
The top part of a Construct’s skull was removed and his chest cavity was split open. One of the doctors walked by her then. His clothes were covered in blood. The only clue that the sorten even noticed was when he dropped the clothes into a biowaste bin and retrieved another set. Then a Construct who was very much alive weakly reached out to her. The doctor tending him spoke into some sort of voice recording device.
“Subject 137 was exposed to a Clairvoyant heat radiation beam that had a recorded temperature of 500,000 Jkals, sufficient to vaporize all known materials,” the doctor said.
Carmen didn’t pay much attention. The Construct lay in the bed, making pained moans from time to time. He didn’t say anything, if he was even able to speak. His face…she couldn’t really describe. She’d never seen such an expression of fear and anguish in a living being before. She brought her hand to her face to hide her disgust as best she could. Then she looked at the doctor.
“Aren’t you going to do anything?”
The doctor ignored her. “Subject 137 has severe category burns over sixty-seven percent of his body. While subject will expire without direct intervention, bioelectric burn mitigation showed a thirteen percent improvement over prior batch of subjects.”
The Construct moaned particularly loud but stopped reaching for her when it was obvious that she wouldn’t do anything to help him.
“At least give him something for the pain,” Carmen said more insistently.
The doctor glared at her over his shoulder. “Don’t be preposterous. He is an asset. He has served his purpose. We will make another.”
She gave no reply. She just looked at the asset on the table, and he looked back. She could feel him straining to hold on, but his hold was only getting weaker. She looked away and swallowed hard when he finally died in front of her.
“Psyche,” Rauon called. “I need you here.”
Carmen left the now dead Construct and walked toward the head technician, but her thoughts still lingered.
“Please sit here,” he said, gesturing to one of the few open beds.
Carmen didn’t do so immediately. Instead, she stared at Rauon for a second or two while he got comfortable across from her. If anything here bothered him, it didn’t show. She guessed it was best not to mention it. He pulled out a device to scan her bioelectric field and got to work.
“I thought you did that already?” she asked. He frowned a little. “Yes, I know, don’t move. But I have to ask,” she said.
“You can talk; it just makes the scan take longer,” Rauon
said. Carmen nodded, which caused him to frown again.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
Rauon batted her apology away. “Just try to stay as still as you can. But, to answer your question, Caelus wants a follow-up scan after the readings from your fight yesterday—”
“To make sure the first scan was done correctly?” Carmen cut in.
“Exactly. Good science is as much about eliminating assumptions as it is about making good theories.”
“So, what’s your theory?” she asked.
The scan required Rauon to move around her slowly. “It’s a bit early to postulate,” he replied as he moved beside her. Carmen looked at him pointedly and rolled her eyes at his answer. “If I must guess,” he continued after her prompting, “I simply believe the same thing I always have. That your kind is more complex than you first appear. There may be a hundred variables that we don’t even know we don’t even know.”
“We don’t even know how we work,” Carmen said. “In a practical sense, I mean.”
He appeared to be amused by her reply, which was a little surprising. “That is to be expected. If you don’t mind me saying, sorten science is more advanced than terran. And we’ve had longer to study the…issue,” he said, trying to find the right word. “It’s a pity we don’t get more natural Clairvoyants to study. It’s difficult to form a baseline from the data we have so far.”
Carmen turned her head to look at the dead Clairvoyant Constructs all around her. Rauon groaned.
“Psyche, please keep your head still.”
“Natural baselines?” she asked coldly.
He didn’t detect her change in tone. “Yes. Clairvoyants that are not clones or Constructs,” he said as he moved to her back. “It’s always exciting when we get a new Clairvoyant to examine. Your bioelectric fields are all unique, if only slightly in some cases. It makes for very interesting study, but it also makes it very difficult to make predictions or models. Honestly, our models were looking very promising till you came along. Now, well…you know.” He paused to allow her to respond, but she said nothing. “I’ve always found it absolutely fascinating that an individual Clairvoyant’s bioelectric field never changes, even as they get older. Did you know that?”