I made my way quickly to Dr. Rannor’s office in the medical wing. I wondered why he wanted to see me. Larath’s suggestion that he planned to offer me a way out did not seem likely; he was not the type to get mixed up in games of deception and politics. Well, if nothing else it gave me a good excuse to meet with him as the captain had requested.
As I entered his office, the ensign behind the desk snapped to attention and stood there silently. “As you were, Ensign. I am here to see Dr. Rannor,” I said, remembering that junior officers were not permitted to speak unless spoken to, a rule I had done away with in my department. All this formality just got in the way of getting anything done.
“Sir, he is with a patient,” was his concise reply.
“That is fine. I will wait here until he is finished,” I said. I sat in one of the chairs provided for waiting patients and began to think about the Magi again. This mystery kept growing more and more complex. I began to focus more and more deeply on all the threads of information I had, slipping into puzzle-solving mode. I continued by building a wall of thought around my mind to block out distractions, and once that was set up I began to deeply focus both my subconscious and conscious mind on the problem.
Once in this mode, I lose almost all connection to the outside world and that nearly got me killed once. I was working on some puzzle as a small child when our home caught fire. I never heard the alarms, or felt the heat. The only memory I have of it is my mom screaming as she ran out of the house with me in her arms. Because of that, I learned to save a bit of my attention to watch and listen for trouble around me.
I do not know how long I had been working on the mystery of the Magi when I heard alarms sounding. I was extremely deep into the puzzle but for the first time ever I successfully managed to separate my awareness of my surroundings from the puzzle solving. It was very odd. I could see everyone running, and hear commands being called out, but everything was going very slowly. I knew it would take me at least thirty, if not forty-five seconds to fully come out of my deep focus, and I saw Dr. Rannor coming towards me. As my brain became more aware I stood and walked towards him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw all the color leave the ensign’s face as he attempted to stand up, without much success. Slowly the world started to come back up to normal speed and I heard Dr. Rannor call out, “CANCEL ALERT! EVERYONE STAND DOWN!”
I realized the alarms had stopped ringing. Suddenly, without any warning, a feeling of déjà vu hit me with the intensity of a tidal wave. Instinctively I grabbed a hold of that memory thread and started to follow it when I was struck by an agonising feeling, like liquid ice pouring through my veins. The intense pain threatened to break my concentration on that memory.
“Pain is but an illusion, the mind is the master of the body,” I chanted to myself over and over until I had control of the pain. I could not let go of the memory thread, and I chased it to a locked door. “A door is merely a temporary obstacle; a lock is but a pattern begging for a solution,” was what I found myself chanting next. I had no idea where either chant came from, but that was the least of my worries. I needed to open the lock and see where the thread led. The lock proved too simple to stand up to me. I opened it and suddenly I was transported back in time …
“Academy-Level Ensign Vydor reporting for my yearly physical, sir!” I stated as I stood at attention at the front desk.
“Have a seat, Ensign. The doctor will see you when he can,” said the officer behind the desk.
This was likely to take a while; they did not attach much importance to ensigns’ physicals. It was probably done on purpose to teach us humility or patience. This time I had come prepared to occupy myself while I waited.
I had managed to find a contact that could get me real encrypted messages from the communications systems of the Empire. I used them to keep my mind sharp, especially during breaks. So far most of them had been boring messages about fleet positions and the like. This would be extremely useful if anyone was trying to mount an attack on the Empire, but to me they were much more interesting as decryption problems. This latest code was much more complex than the others. I had been working on it for a few days now without any real progress. As I began to focus on it, tiny pieces of it started to emerge, but nothing that made much sense. Whatever it was, it was certain to be more interesting than what I had intercepted so far.
Before I could get much further I heard alarms going off. I began to work my way back out of the puzzle. It usually took me forty-five seconds to a minute to return to full awareness. As I emerged from my deep focus, I realized I was on a stretcher with crewmen barking orders all around me. I started to sit up. A mask was pushed on to my face …
The thread of memory ended there. I awoke in Dr. Rannor’s office on his couch. He was sitting at his desk with a syringe ready to use, watching me with a look of concern on his face.
“So you’ve finally decided to return to the land of the living,” he said.
“How long was I out?” I asked, still trying to regain my senses.
“Which time? I guess in total around thirty minutes,” he replied.
“Um, Doc, what do you mean ‘which time’? Perhaps it would be best if you told me what happened,” was my reply.
“Well, I am hoping you can answer that better than I can. Shortly after you arrived your med alert patch broadcasted an emergency message. According to your vital signs, you were dead. No heart rate, no brainwaves, no sign of life at all. You had been dead for about eight seconds when I came out of my office and saw the resurrection team scrambling to get their equipment and reach you. After you had been dead about ten seconds you stood up and started to walk towards me. All your vitals were still below detectable levels. Then at about fifteen seconds one by one your vitals came back slowly; by about thirty seconds your patch was reporting all was normal.” He paused here as if he did not believe his own words. “After that your vitals spiked off the chart: heart rate, respiration, all at extreme levels. You started to collapse in front of me, but I managed to catch you. I heard you say something, but I couldn’t make it out. It sounded like a chant. Then according to your patch you died again. This time however, I was close enough to see you were not really dead. Your breathing and pulse were much weaker than normal, but functioning. I removed your patch and laid you on the couch to recover. That was about thirty minutes ago.” A big, friendly grin broke out on his face as he said, “Now, I think you have some explaining to do. The ability to die and come back is something you really should let your doctor know about.”
The medical alert patch was something that all officers and mission-critical staff were required to wear. It constantly monitored their health and reported back to the medical personnel. The idea behind it was that those most critical to the survival of the fleet needed to be monitored constantly to ensure the fleet’s safety. For example, if one of the navigators collapsed while on duty, he would need to be replaced immediately in order to assure the fleet stayed on a safe path.
“Well, Doc, obviously I was not dead. I assume it happened because of how focused I was on what I was doing,” I replied.
“Let’s go through what happened together and see if we can make sense of it. You checked in with the receptionist, and then …?” he prompted.
“He said you were with a patient and I told him I would wait. I found a comfortable chair to sit in and wait for you.” I did not want to go into too much detail until I had had a chance to work it out myself.
“Look, Vydor, this room is secured and nothing we say is being recorded. Patient-doctor confidentiality is paramount here. If you are randomly dying and coming back I cannot allow you to return to duty, never mind lead a critical mission. So you have to open up a bit more,” he said.
I had to admit he was right. “Well, Doc, as I said I was not dead. I did not realize that the medical alert patch would react the way it did. In fact, the reason I am reluctant to explain is that I don not fully understand it.” How could I explain this without sounding like a nutcase? “After I sat down, knowing I had to wait a while, I began mentally working on all the data I have related to the Magi problem. When I work on a complex problem with a lot of interrelated information that seems to lead nowhere, I often drop into a deep focus. My father called it ‘puzzle-solving mode;’ he was a computer man, so everything had names like that. While in this mode, I cut off most outside stimuli that might distract me, leaving just enough awareness to recognize and react to possible danger - in this case, alarms going off.”
“Okay, it sounds like some kind of deep meditation. That might explain the alert going off, so let’s set that aside for a moment. After the alarms went off, you stood and walked towards me, then your vitals spiked off the charts. What happened there?” he asked.
“As I walked towards you a memory was triggered, and I decided to follow that trigger and see where it went. As soon as I did I felt an extreme pain, like someone had poured ice-cold acid in my veins and was pumping it through my system. I am sure that is when you recorded the spike in my vitals …”
“A memory block?” he interrupted.
A memory block was something the Empire normally used only when people retired from key positions. They blocked out all sensitive information that the person might have so that in their older, weaker state there would be no risk of them releasing critical secrets. Typically people who had one did not even know it, and never searched for those memories again. But if they did, they would be discouraged with extreme, though harmless, pain. If they did get through that they would find the memory was secured behind a psychological barrier.
“Yes, Doc, but I was able to get a grip on the pain and continue to follow the memory through to its completion. But why would there be a block in my mind?” I asked.
“I have some suspicions. But first, what memory was blocked?” he asked.
“Well, nothing too exciting, but I guess this happened once before. Basically it was the same as this event, without the memory block. I was a young ensign in the academy waiting for my annual physical, and to pass the time I was working on decrypting some messages I had brought. The alarms went off that time too, but before I could bring myself out of it, they had me on a stretcher and put me out through a mask on my face. It’s a memory that would have been useful today, but I do not see what … oh … the message.” I just trailed off as I remembered something.
“Go on, what about the message?” Dr. Rannor prompted.
“The message I was decrypting I had acquired from a contact who assured me it was from the highest level of Imperial communications. I did not finish decoding it, but I did get a phrase and some numbers. But it cannot be, can it?” I grabbed my pad off the end table where I assume he had placed it. I jotted down the numbers and could not believe what I saw.
“Vydor, do you plan to let me in on your discovery?” he asked.
“Well, I am not sure I believe this. But I remember the two pieces of data that I was able to get out of the code before getting hauled away, a phrase and some numbers. The phrase was ‘The Black Adders have hatched’ and the numbers … are the stellar coordinates of the colony we are en route to.” I just let that last statement hang in the air for a bit.
He sighed and after a pause said, “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?” I asked.
“Well, in your file are orders that if you ever hit a memory block I am to inject you with 35ccs of Crystaline Betazene before you succeed in breaking it. Apparently they did not trust their blocks to hold against you, and it seems with good reason.”
“Forgive me if I am off-base here, Doc, but 35ccs seems far too high,” I said.
“Indeed, it would be for a normal person under normal conditions. You were not under normal conditions. You were fighting extreme pain, and the normal dose would have only stabilized you. Their goal was to push you into a coma to prevent you from discovering whatever it was they had blocked. My orders were to keep you in the coma until someone could come and reestablish the block.” He then stood, picked up the hypodermic syringe from his desk and tossed it into my lap. When I picked it up I saw it was completely full.
I leveled my gaze at him and said, “This is full, Doctor.”
“Yes, instead my official report will say that your medical alert patch malfunctioned, and that we need to order a replacement. I will also record that you passed out due to overexertion, and lack of rest. Your official treatment will be rest and a good meal, and to leave your medical alert patch off until we can replace it,” was his answer.
“Why, Doc?” I asked. “You are not the type to disobey an order and get involved in a cover-up.”
“Vydor, you will learn in time that you have to weigh each order you get against the situation at hand. In most cases orders come down the chain of command, and often from people far removed from the situation. Sometimes, as in this case, the orders were placed long before the situation came about and need to be adjusted in light of new information and events that arose since the order was given. Beyond that, though, you need to use your own moral compass to judge whether an order is something you should follow or not. In this case, it was that moral compass that told me this order is wrong. If I am questioned officially I can simply state I took the Emperor’s orders for your upcoming mission to overrule that order since if you were placed in a coma there would be no way for you to fly The rest of the cover-up is actually described in the orders so I would not have to explain that away.”
Well, this doctor was packed full of surprises. Technically I should have reported him for disobeying orders but, as he pointed out, that would jeopardize the mission as well as getting my memory blocked again. He had me here. I could not report him, and part of me felt that was good.
“Doc, I have to ask you something. Why did you recommend me so highly to the captain? I did not think you would have known anything about me.”
He got that faraway look about him again, just as he had in the meeting. This time I could watch him more closely and I saw that there was more to it than that. He seemed to be fighting some internal struggle with himself, one I could barely detect. After a few minutes he sighed and looked at me.
“Vydor, I know that I did, but I cannot remember doing it. You see, like you I have many memory blocks, but unlike you I have never been able to open them. I can find them, just not open them,” he stated in an almost depressed tone.
“But no alarms went off showing you in pain?” I asked.
He had a proud smile about him as he started his reply, “No, I have been fighting the memory blocks much longer than you have. You will find after you defeat the pain a few times it starts becoming second nature and you get to the point that you don’t even notice it any more. It took all my medical training the first few times to get through it, but I did. Of course the real question you must be wondering about is why I have memory blocks, and that’s a question I have been researching ever since returning to my post here.”
“Returning to your post? As far as I know you have not left the ship since taking over from Dr. Smith.” This visit was providing all kinds of new threads to work out, and it seemed that they must be connected to the Magi. Why that should be was a mystery, but my instincts told me it was true.
“The problem is that you think Dr. Smith and I are two different people, in fact everyone in this fleet does. However, I know for a fact that we are not. Vydor, if we continue this discussion you probably won’t like where it leads. It will cast a doubt on everything you think you know about the Empire. Are you sure you want to hear it?” He had a concerned look on his face, worried about how I would take all this new knowledge.
“Doctor, information is my game; all I deal in is facts, figures and numbers. I know everything we have talked about so far will somehow lead me to the solution to the Magi puzzle. I need whatever information you have to give me the best chance of surviving this mission.” I had to keep him talking.
“Very well.” He started to pace a bit as he spoke. “When I came aboard this ship five years ago, I felt I had been here before, but every memory of this ship was blocked. So I started digging in the ship’s logs and personal records. As part of my search I looked at Dr. Smith’s records. At a glance I knew they were faked. In time I was able to reconstruct a series of events, none of which I can directly remember, but I know must be true. Many years ago I was a leading DNA researcher. I accumulated many awards for my work on trying to unravel the DNA code. I even helped to create a lot of the DNA simulation software that is being used to test genetic treatments today…”
“Sorry to interrupt, but what do you mean the ‘mystery of DNA?’ When I was in the Academy we studied it. It seemed fairly simple and well-understood to me,” I said.
He looked right at me, locked my gaze and said, “You were lied to.” He let that sit in the air for a minute, and then continued, “DNA is still a complete and total mystery to us. We have no idea where it came from, or how it works. We understand bits and pieces; enough to make medicines and correct some defects, but that is it. If you take the time to do the research I think you will be shocked by the number of things we don’t understand that you were told we did in school. The mind is another; no one really knows how it works. Centuries of study have not solved the puzzle. No matter what we learn about it, we cannot make any theory fully fit. It is as if we are missing some critical piece of that puzzle. But this is beside the point …” He paused to gather himself, and then continued, “It was all that time spent studying DNA that helped me spot the tampering with Dr. Smith’s records. In fact, the DNA was mine with some not-so-clever editing to make it look like a different person. It happened to be software I had helped to create which was used to fake the DNA, so I was able to undo the changes and get back to the original code, which matches mine perfectly. Since then I have spent a few hours every day trying to unravel why all this has happened. I have managed to rebuild a lot of my old life, but haven’t found any answers yet.”
“Wow, this really creates a lot more questions than answers. To start with, why would the Empire lie about the state of medical research?” I had so many questions, but a cover-up of this magnitude was just unimaginable, and I had to start with that.
“You are expecting some deep, dark reason, with many levels of complexity, but in reality it is deceptively simple. This is where we will really begin to challenge your preconceptions. You, like everyone else, were brought up to worship and serve the Emperor with all your heart, mind and body. As a child you probably sent him small gifts and offerings to help ensure you would have a good path in life to follow. Now, think for a minute. If it became generally known that no one had any solid idea where life came from, or how the most vital parts of our bodies function, would you think that such worship would hold up?”
“What do you mean? We know where we come from, a planet near a G-class star …” I started. Then I realized that the planet had never been found, nor had I ever heard anything but the most general information on it. It was so ingrained into our society that I had accepted it as true without ever thinking about it.
“I think you are starting to get it. By the look on your face, you don’t like it very much,” he said.
My mind was reeling from the blow to the basic beliefs I had grown up with. What could all this mean? I needed time to collect myself, so I took him down another road. “Doctor, assuming what you say is true, then why did the captain tell me you recommended me to him? I would think that if they wanted that buried they would have blocked his mind too.”
“Ah, now you see the trap that lies and cover-ups create. If they blocked his memory, then later he would not have remembered my recommendation and would not have kept you on his staff. This of course allows the possibility of the captain asking me about it later, but in this case the imperfection of the memory blocks would help them. I think it’s safe to assume that you have more memory blocks you haven’t yet found. In time, you will find you still know things that you acquired during those memories, but you won’t know how you know them. For example, even though they blocked my memory of recommending you to the captain, I know that I did it. So if the captain asked me, they were betting I would just go with it in order to avoid looking like a fool for not remembering.” He sat down behind his desk and leaned back. “The question is, where does this all leave us? Well, from what I can tell, we have a lot more questions than answers, and you are our best hope for getting them. Like you, I know the answer is down there on that planet. I can feel it calling me. If I could think of a way to pull it off, I would be on that mission with you.”
I sat there quietly for a while just thinking about everything I had been told. I had never in my wildest dreams ever expected to have a conversation like this with a respected officer. On one hand, all my training and schooling was screaming at me that he was a traitor and it was my duty to kill him before he could tell more people what he told me, but on the other hand I knew he was right. Something about all of this was calling me, and dragging me to that planet. I could not fight it. I had to follow this through and reach the planet.
He leaned forward in his chair and locked eyes with me and said in a low tone, “Vydor, listen to me very carefully. You must avoid Larath until you launch. If he discovers you broke this memory block, it is his job to put it back.”
His tone implied so much more than his words. “That will not be easy. I am scheduled to meet with him at 0600 tomorrow. He promised to teach me a defense against the Magi’s fear weapon.”
“You’re already able to beat that weapon. Just use the same thought shield you use when you drop into puzzle-solving mode, without going into the mode. You will then become completely immune to the Magi’s fear weapon and Larath’s empathic powers …”
“Wait a minute, Doctor, I never mentioned a thought shield. How did you know that?” Just how much information was he withholding? As I pondered that he got that look on his face again. When he came out of it I said, “Let me guess, another memory block?” I paused as he nodded, then pushed on. “It seems our pasts are heavily intermingled and someone did everything they could to prevent us from knowing it.”
“It would appear so,” he said as he turned and entered something in on the computer. “Either way, that thought shield is how you will block all the psychic powers. You are probably wondering why I did not mention that in our briefings. That was because Larath was present at all of them. If he suspects I have made progress on cracking my memory blocks - well, let’s just say I would probably have an unexpected retirement party.”
“I really do not like casting Larath as an enemy,” I stated, but it was worse than that. It seemed like the enemy might be the Empire itself, but that could not be true!
“Nor do I, but really it is much worse than that. If both of us have had our pasts tampered with, what about the rest of the senior staff? It would seem a given that if I retired and came back as a different person they should have recognized me.” He paused there, and then said, “One has to wonder how deep this cover-up goes, or should I say, how high?”
“So where do we go from here? Obviously, I have to get to that planet, at any cost. I do not want to believe that this is how the Emperor wants it to be. I would rather believe there is some evil force operating inside the highest levels of command which is orchestrating all this.” That was such a cop-out. I could see where all the evidence pointed, but I just could not believe the Emperor would betray his loyal servants like this.
“In any case, we can be assured that whoever is behind this means to stay hidden at any cost. The first thing we need to do is to arrange for you to be ordered off duty, to rest and recover from your ordeal. Then we need you to leave a day early on your mission, in fact at 0500 hours tomorrow would be best,” he said.
“Assuming that could be done, that would trip suspicions with my team since they are expecting me to make an announcement at 1800 hours,” was my reply.
“Well that is simple; contact your replacement shortly before 0500 hours, saying that the mission was moved up, and that he has to take over as of 0515. It would not be the first time a mission timeline was moved up. No one would be much surprised by that,” he stated.
“And how are we going to pull this off ? I cannot just leave early; I am still waiting on a squad and ship assignment from Zalith,” I pointed out.
“I can handle that. Zalith and I have had a very good relationship ever since I saved his son’s life. I will simply tell him that we have reason to believe that the mission has been compromised and that we think the Magi know the mission timeline. That way he will see the wisdom in stepping it up a day so that you arrive long before they expect you. He may suspect he is not getting the whole truth, but he trusts me enough not to ask questions.” He turned back to his computer and a smile crept across his face. “It seems that about ten years ago you had a fainting spell which was attributed to working too hard in school and neglecting your diet. They put you on medical leave for a few days.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw the record. I knew that matched the memory I had just unblocked, but until that time I had had no recollection of it. “That settles it, we will go with your plan. And since I will be leaving on a stealth mission, I must conveniently turn in that faulty medical alert patch.”
“Yes, and since it is faulty, there is no reason for me to keep it.” With that he tossed it in the trash disposal that would quickly recycle it back to raw materials.
“There are many questions still to be asked, but I do not think we would get anywhere tonight. I must get back to my quarters and get some rest; it might be a while before I get another chance,” I said. After exchanging well-wishes, I left and returned to my quarters.
As soon as I entered my room, I noticed I had a message waiting from High Command. I went over and played it.
“Commander Vydor, this message is for you only, direct from the officer of the Emperor. You are not cleared to share this with anyone except your strike team. These new orders supersede all previous orders. You are not to attempt to contact the Magi in any way. You will lead your team to steal one of their plasma cannons and any information you can get with about the fear weapon you reported. Once you have that, you are to get off the planet and it is to be destroyed. The captain will be told all he needs to know when the time is right. When you return you will report back all that you learned only to High Command. The Emperor sends his blessings for a successful mission.”
Great, orders to not speak with the Magi. How would I get any answers if I did not? This might turn out to be one of those orders Dr. Rannor would tell me should not be obeyed. Well, there would be plenty of time to think about that on the trip to the planet. Now I would have to get some rest.