The Contingency

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The Contingency Page 11

by G J Ogden


  This got Taylor’s attention, “How the hell do you know our names?”

  “If you can see me as a human female then something about you is unique,” the woman went on, ignoring his question again. “Some part of you is actually the man you believe you are, but how that’s possible, I don’t know, and I need to find out.”

  “I... don’t understand...”

  “There’s too much to explain now,” said the woman, “And I’m not sure you’re even capable of understanding; but I’ll give you the cold hard facts, and then we’ll see.”

  “Captain...” Casey said, her voice was breaking, and sounded even stranger because of it. Taylor turned back to face her, studying her features more closely, conscious of what the woman had said, and though her expression and body and even her hair were an exact likeness for Casey Valera, it was not her. It was like he was looking at an intricately detailed model of Casey; a mannequin come to life.

  He looked down at his own hands and they were the same, and then he felt his face, and where there should have been thick stubble, there was only the smooth feeling of something soft, but also artificial. There was sensation; he could feel his fingers touching his face, but what he was feeling was not skin.

  “What’s happened to me?!” Taylor shouted to the woman, stumbling back and dropping to both knees. “What’s happened to my body?!”

  Casey could stand it no longer; she ran to and dropped down beside Satomi’s corpse, which she saw as real, and bloodied from her wounds, and then saw Satomi’s weapon lying at her side. She peered back across to Taylor, seeing him also as human and real, and then her eyes moved over to what she still saw as a Hedalt soldier, fixated on Taylor. She slumped down over her friend, burying her face into Satomi’s chest, pretending to cry, but at the same time, she slid her hand slowly towards the handle of the sidearm.

  “The Hedalt did this to you, Taylor,” the woman began, oblivious to Casey’s actions. “I am an officer in Earth Fleet, the same as you; the real you that lived and died centuries ago.” She then gestured to the hangar bay with her free hand, while keeping the weapon aimed at Taylor’s chest. “Look around you, Captain; this is an Earth Fleet base. You can see the Nimrods now, can’t you?” Taylor glanced again at the rows of ships that he had first seen as Hedalt Corvettes, but were now clearly Earth Fleet vessels, as the woman had said, but he did not respond to the question. “Earth Fleet Command built this base in secret before we finally lost the war, and ensured it remained hidden from the Hedalt Empire.”

  “Lost the war? We won!”

  The woman shook her head and lowered the weapon fractionally, aiming it just off to his side, “No, Captain, Earth lost.”

  Taylor shook his head, angrily, “That’s a lie! I’ve spent the last four years searching the galaxy for the remains of the Hedalt Empire. We beat them; we destroyed their world and scattered them across the stars! Earth was saved!”

  “The Hedalt have altered your memories, or the memories of the original Captain Taylor Ray, in any case,” The woman continued, sounding assured. “It was Earth that was nuked, Captain, not the Hedalt home world. A not so subtle distinction, but as it turned out an easy one for them to cheat your mind into believing. We’re an arrogant race; of course you’d believe we won!”

  “You can’t make me believe that,” Taylor yelled at her. “It’s madness!”

  “Look at your body, Captain. Look at this hangar. The truth is staring you in the face. The truth is you!”

  “But if we lost and everyone was killed, how did you survive? What are you doing out here, thousands of light years from Earth?”

  The woman stepped closer to Taylor, lowering the weapon to her side, “We knew the war was lost at least two years before our defenses finally fell,” the woman answered, suddenly sounding melancholy and, ironically, more human, “but we couldn’t let that be known publicly; we had to fight on, to try to win even if we knew it was impossible. The Hedalt were not interested in surrender; for them, only our total annihilation would mean victory. So, Earth Fleet Command instigated an emergency protocol to preserve the species, and perhaps one day give us a shot at fighting back, so we could reclaim what had been taken from us. It was called the Contingency. That’s where you are now, Captain. This is almost all that remains of human civilization.” Then she laughed. “Actually, it seems that I’m all that remains of it.”

  “No, you’re lying!” Taylor yelled and again he lunged at the woman, but though she had lowered her weapon, she had not lowered her guard, and she dodged the attack and struck him again. The dull thud of the weapon against his head knocked him flat on his chest, but though he physically had the strength to stand, he had lost the will to do so. He rolled onto his back and then sat up burying his face into his knees. “This is lunacy. Why are you saying this? Who the hell are you, anyway?”

  “My name is Commander Sarah Sonner,” the woman said, “and you are a twisted invention of Hedalt science; a corruption of technology and biology, engineered to do the Hedalt’s dirty work, and hunt down what remains of humanity to extinction.”

  “No!” Casey cried out, leaping to her feet and firing at the figure that she still saw as a Hedalt soldier, but her entire body was shaking and the shots flew wild and wide.

  Taylor’s head snapped towards Casey as the crack of the weapon rang out in the hangar. He twisted back to the woman who claimed to be Commander Sarah Sonner and saw her angle her own weapon towards Casey. Taylor reached out to Commander Sonner, shouting for her to stop, but his vision flickered and faded, like a faulty computer terminal, and then he felt his body go limp. Crashing to the cold metal deck his eyes darkened and he heard more gunshots ring out, before everything fell silent and still. He had once again entered the void, only this time he felt and thought nothing at all, and simply hung in deep space, unable to move, suspended in front of a door that shone like starlight.

  FIFTEEN

  Taylor didn’t know for how long he had remained suspended in front of the starlight door, which had continued to stay closed. Time seemed to have a different rhythm in this place, wherever and whatever it was. At first he had been afraid, partly because he was recalling the trauma of the events that had just transpired, but something about the tranquility of his ethereal location helped him to wrestle those emotions into a box, at least temporarily. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking of Satomi and Casey, and how their faces and bodies had appeared so unreal, in the same way that his own body had felt unnatural after waking from the fall. Simulants, Commander Sonner had called them. He didn’t yet know what that meant, but he was no longer as horrified by the knowledge of what he might be as he had been in the hangar. Perhaps there was also something meditative and even rehabilitative about this other-worldly location; something that allowed his mind to process and accept a radical new reality. Whatever the reason was, he was grateful for it.

  He watched the starlight door, pondering what could be on the other side, and as he did so it began to fade to darkness, as it had done previously. Once again, Taylor felt a sensation of falling, without actually falling. Then came total darkness and a numb silence, before sensation began to return to his limbs and extremities. At the same time the physical manifestations of the emotions that had tormented his body withdrew and eventually vanished. He could still feel fear and anger and joy and everything in-between, but his body was cut off from the effects. The gut-wrenching tug of fear; the tingle of excitement; the blood-pumping rush of anger – all were gone. All were contained only in his mind.

  Taylor opened his eyes. For a moment he just saw a multicolored fuzz of light and then slowly the image resolved and he saw Commander Sarah Sonner sitting in a tarnished-looking office chair in front of him. He appeared to be restrained in a similar chair, though he did not recognize the location where he was being held. But from the layout and spartan décor, he guessed that it was perhaps an office or meeting space, just off from the main hangar.

  “I’m sorry about the restraints,”
said Sonner, sounding sincere, “but until I can be sure of what you are, and if I can trust you, I’m afraid they are necessary. I’d suggest you don’t struggle, or they will only tighten further.”

  Taylor didn’t care about the restraints; he wasn’t concerned for himself. “Where are Satomi and Casey?” he demanded.

  “How do you feel?” queried Sonner, yet again ignoring his question, but then added with genuine curiosity, “if you can actually feel, that is?”

  “What have you done with Casey and Satomi?” Taylor asked again, more forcefully, but without overt aggression. He realized he was in no position to make demands, but despite the upsetting revelations about himself and his crew, the question of their fates weighed heavy on his mind, and he had to know.

  Sonner gestured to Taylor’s left, “Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”

  Taylor scowled and then turned his head to see Casey and Satomi propped upright in chairs four or five meters away, just outside of his peripheral vision. The sudden and intense shock of seeing their mannequin-like shells caused him to curse out loud; something he rarely did. He forced himself to keep looking, noting their synthetic skin was a grayish flesh color that shone under the harsh strip lights with a luster like silk. Their facial features were unmistakably those of Satomi and Casey, and at a glance they could easily be mistaken for humans, but observed from this distance the artificiality of their construction was plain to see. His eyes lingered on what was Satomi Rose, and a deep sadness and grief overcame him, though his body remained immune to the sensation.

  “How can I be sure this isn’t some trick?” asked Taylor, still shaken and still fighting against accepting what he was confronted with, despite it literally staring him in the face. “You could have drugged me while I was unconscious on the hangar deck. This could all just be an elaborate Hedalt ruse to get me to reveal some classified information,” he added, defiantly. He was actually starting to convince himself of that possibility; it certainly made more sense than anything Sonner had told him. “Well, it won’t work!”

  Sonner rubbed her eyes and face and slumped forward, suddenly looking exhausted and pale, like she was suffering from a really bad hangover. She sniffed and rubbed her nose and then reached over to a screen set off to her side, which was covered with a simple white sheet and set on castors. She stood up, an act that seemed to require immense effort, and slowly wheeled it in front of Taylor. Despite the screen looking new, the castors squeaked as if they were ancient museum pieces. Taylor realized this was probably close to the truth, given the age of the base. He stared at the screen and then at Sonner.

  “What’s this?”

  Sonner didn’t answer and instead drew back the sheet covering the screen to reveal a mirror. Taylor peered at the silvery surface and was struck dumb. Staring back at him was his face, but it was covered with the same mannequin-like, silky, gray skin that he’d seen on Satomi and Casey. He moved the muscles – if that was even what they were – in his mouth and cheeks, and his face reacted, but with a plasticine tautness that was quite unlike the memory of his own slightly golden skin, which had become lined with age during their four-year mission. More unsettling were his eyes; instead of piercing blue irises, which glistened with life, he saw shining silvery metal orbs peering back at him. He moved and the reflection moved, and the silver orbs tracked him precisely.

  He should have been nauseated by the mannequin staring back at him, but his body produced no physical response; there was no tightening of the gut or thumping of his heart or trembling hands. Everything he felt was locked inside his head, but even this was traumatic enough to make Taylor want to close his eyes and shut out what he’d seen.

  “That’s enough…” said Taylor, looking away from the mirror, but the image of his reflection was still clear in his mind’s eye.

  “This is who you are, Captain Taylor Ray,” said Sonner, “I know it must be a hell of a shock, and I have no idea how I would process it if our places were reversed, but this is actually good news!”

  Taylor laughed, and though it was unmistakably his laugh, it sounded strange to his ears. “How can this possibly be good news? If you’re right then Earth was nuked and I’m some kind of freakish android puppet of the Hedalt Empire. There’s nothing about that that’s good!”

  “You are alive, Captain,” replied Sonner, speaking the words as if they bore great significance. “For the first time since you were created, you are truly aware of who and what you are. You’re no longer a puppet, can’t you see that? You’re unique.”

  “Take it away, damn you!” he cried, this time angrily, keeping his silver eyes tight shut. He didn’t want to hear that this thing that had happened to him was some kind of miraculous awakening that he should somehow be grateful for. The rage inside him should have set his blood pressure soaring, but other than the pressure of the seat and the sensation of the thick metal binds that held him, there was no physical response. Yet the emotions were real; terror, surprise, disgust, anger and contempt, he recognized them all, and felt them all at once inside his mind.

  Sonner pushed the mirror to the side; the castors squeaking as it moved away. “It’s gone, you can open your eyes again.”

  Taylor did so, but was careful only to look at Sonner and not at the mannequins to his left.

  “Look, Captain, the deal is this; everything about the existence you remember is a lie,” Sonner began, squeezing her own eyes tightly and wearily rubbing her face and nose. “The life you believe you have lived did not belong to you. You have a version of Taylor Ray’s memories, of his home and friends and his life on Earth, but you experienced none of it. I have no idea how long you’ve been active for, but for all of that time, however long it was, your existence has just been an intricate fabrication. A sort of dream world blended with the real world.”

  The mention of a dream world made him think of the void he’d experienced, but he was not yet ready to confide anything to this woman. For all he knew, this could still be a trick, but it was becoming increasingly harder to convince himself of that. All he could do was try to find out more information; to see if his questions could reveal a chink in Sonner’s story, or if they merely added to the weight of evidence that he was what she claimed him to be.

  “So if I’m not the real Taylor Ray, who or what am I?” Taylor asked her.

  “A simulant,” said Sonner, in a purely matter-of-fact manner. “Your body is entirely artificial, as I’m sure you now realize, but your brain is the real deal. It’s the only part of you that’s organic.”

  “Organic? You mean I have a human brain?”

  “Yes, it’s a lab-grown replica of the brain that originally belonged to Captain Taylor Ray,” said Sonner and then she coughed weakly and sniffed again. “Captain Ray’s ship and crew were captured at the beginning of the war. In fact, it may have even been the very first engagement of the entire conflict.”

  This latest revelation should have appalled Taylor even more than the others, but the fact that his brain was real actually made him feel slightly better. Whether his brain was born and nurtured or lab-grown did not seem to matter; it made him more than merely a collection of polymers, metals and whatever else went into the construction of a simulant. Sonner seemed to be waiting for Taylor to respond, but since she received only a contemplative silence, she decided to continue.

  “We, as in Earth Fleet Command, first became aware of the Hedalt Empire’s experimentations with simulants towards the end of the war,” Sonner went on, “but we only learned the full extent of their plans after Earth was destroyed, and the Contingency was set in motion.”

  “But why do I remember things so differently?” asked Taylor. Then he realized he hadn’t phrased the question correctly. He wasn’t even sure how to phrase it. “I don’t just mean events, but everything else too.”

  Sonner’s eyes narrowed and she appeared confused, or in pain, or possibly both. Either way, Taylor tried to clarify what he meant. “Why did I see you before as a H
edalt soldier, and now as... you? Why did I see rows of Hedalt Corvettes in the hangar, and now I see Nimrods? Why did I see myself as human? Why do I remember Earth surviving if it was after I was…” he paused, searching for the right word, and then added, awkwardly, “made or built or whatever the hell they did to create me.”

  Sonner let out a rasping cough and massaged her chest, “It’s complicated, but I’ll tell you what I know,” she said, standing up and flexing her arms and legs. “But bear with me, because the background context is important.”

  “I’m apparently not going anywhere,” said Taylor, surprising Sonner and even himself at his ability to joke under the circumstances.

  “I don’t know how much of this will marry up with what your lab-grown brain remembers, but here goes…” Sonner began, gently exercising her neck, which looked stiff and tense. “The Hedalt race have a physiological hypersensitivity to space travel. It’s why they originally came ‘in peace’, as the cliché goes. They needed the pretense of friendship to give them time to build up an armada and get it close to the solar system through their network of jump nodes.”

  “You mean the Fabric?” said Taylor, feeling the need to clarify and question everything Sonner was saying, to make sure what he knew matched up with reality. Or at least the version of reality that Sonner was presenting to him, which could have still been a lie, for all he knew.

  “Yes, though we only became aware of the Fabric and what the Hedalt called the CoreNet after their ill-fated arrival,” Sonner replied. “Hell, we didn’t even have jump tech at that time. We had to figure it out from a captured Hedalt ship, after the fighting started.” Then she added, wistfully. “That was part of my job, actually.”

  “So what does this have to do with why my memories were altered?” Taylor cut-in, conscious that Sonner was wavering off track in her clearly debilitated state.

  The Earth Fleet Commander scowled back at him, “I said, bear with me, didn’t I?” she replied, snarkily, “Are all simulants so damn impatient?”

 

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