Raiya had been in her office for six hours poring over reports online, many of them clearly spurious. The Transcenders were attracting what Len would refer to as the various nutters, those who felt they had some kind of connection with this pseudo-religious group, from the spiritual to the sexual. There were even pics of supposed group members engaged in lewd acts with their disciples. Curiously she could find very few positive accounts/reports; Transcenders were not effective at controlling publicity and neither were they big on self promotion. Drawing all this material together, she could even make the case that there was a well organised campaign against them.
She was about to leave for what seemed like a well earned break when she came across a link to their official site. The usual hyperspace effect animation, then an invitation portal for those who wanted a neural interface (she had yet to determine whether this was part of their brainwashing technique) followed by bold three dimensional text: ‘The one from the stars has returned’. At first she thought this was referring to Scott Alendry. The name was not given, they only referred to him as the one who transcends time and space. The man was brought to them by their ‘bortati’ alien contact; he had been recovered from a woods..... ‘bereft off his body by the evil ones who had sent him to a terrible fate’ (no elaboration) and left him for dead. Now the alien had left this man in the care of the Transcenders. This man was to be their saviour, the one who could provide the necessary knowledge to enable their final transcendence. The picture was somewhat macabre – a brain in a tank. This was especially curious since there was still a moratorium on space travel. She had to find out who this man is, but no amount of searching online rendered a name.
Raiya considered telling Dr Heigener what she’d learned and what as a result she now intended to do, but she imagined his words of caution and even mild paternal forbadence. Really he only wanted a researcher, safely tucked away at the institute. But since even in this supposedly safest of places her life had been threatened, there was no escape from jeopardy; for some while she’d had the feeling that someone was out to get her.
She grabbed a few essential items, and left.
As she journeyed to their last known location Raiya could hear Heigener’s voice in her mind warning her, telling her how ludicrously reckless this was – the woman who had been compiling a dossier on the Transcenders’ every documented act, every ex-member’s account, was now about to take that ultimate step to find the truth. In other words: to let curiosity get the better of her.
As her car reached its legal speed limit, the landscape rushed by with unnerving haste, as if this would stop any doubts from forming. Yet they were there, inchoate for now.
Just as the car entered Nevada state Raiya felt a jolt so hard it left her disorientated for a few seconds. When her senses returned she became aware of the myriad warnings projected at her: scarlet flashes of status graphics and vehicle’s voice telling her substantial damage had been done to all vital systems, and thus an emergency landing procedure would be engaged. She didn’t need being told, the damage was obvious: there was smoke all about her, so thick that she couldn’t see ahead. And to add to her fear, the car was lurching wildly. The only possible comfort was in knowing that if all control was lost airbags should inflate all around the chassis, and in a worse case scenario the interior would fill with foam.
The worst case scenario played out. She was only aware of the tumbling motion, the jolt – harsh enough to make her sure she'd suffer bruising – as the car hit the parched ground. For a few moments her thoughts were confused, dislocated. Nonetheless the prospect of dying was there, looming before her in its immediate raw presence, like the spectre that had always lay hidden in the shadows ready to strike when she was most vulnerable.
Only now in the deadening stillness could the analysis of the situation begin.
This had been no accident, she was sure. But there was hardly time to think over the reasons before she heard bursting of balloons, the creak of metal being pried apart.
Raiya – on her side and still webbed to the seat; foam particles rapidly melting away – tried to activate the near door. Electronics were down so she tried the manual lever but to no avail, much of the car must be crushed. She was in a metal cocoon and someone was attempting to break through. A faint burning smell, she imagined caused by a laser cutter. Oddly the logical response of fear was not there. A calmness in facing the inescapable. Why stress over fate?
The man who appeared was not what she had expected; she was sure she had never seen him before, yet he looked curiously familiar like someone briefly glanced on a broadcast, perhaps a reporter. He wore were a grey-brown shirt, blending him with the semi-dessert. A civilian she felt sure, though the long tapered laser tool he held seemed more likely to be used by the rescue service.
Once he had clearly broken through he spoke. ‘Please don't be alarmed, I’m not here to harm you.’
There were no obvious signs he was lying. In a wavering voice she said, ‘Someone tries to kill me and you suddenly appear. What do you expect me to think?’
The man put his gloved hands on either side of the large cutaway section. ‘Of course, it is a logical deduction that I am the one responsible,’ he said flatly. ‘But please consider that this area is much observed by many. My own interest in the Transcenders is part of a rescue mission; I understand yours is investigatory.’
‘How can you know anything about me?’
‘I know you are the person Torbin Lyndau has contacted. That you received his personal files, and that your involvement has put your life in danger – hence the stealth craft that attacked your car and is at this very moment observing, doubtless deciding whether to annihilate us both at the risk of drawing the attention of certain others.’
‘Certain others?’
‘I have some powerful allies, Dr Fortenski. Not that it would be wise for me tell you anything about them; you understand how such knowledge can be a dangerous thing.’
‘Who are you then, my knight in shining armour?’
‘Something like that. But you can call me Roidon.’
‘I suppose you’ll have to rescue me, Roidon.’
She took his hand, still not feeling anything like trust in this ordinary-looking man, and mentally running through his possible motivations. Yet she followed him, feeling like some helpless damsel. I’m still in shock, she then thought to herself.
Her legs were weak. He was leading her at almost a running pace towards a nearby hill.
‘We need to move faster,’ he said. He was virtually dragging her now. Raiya couldn’t see what she running from but at least the man seemed serious.
They ran through a valley within the parched hills. Roidon stopped so abruptly that she bumped into him. Without a word he touched his temple with his forefinger, and instantly a craft appeared. It was a dull silvery elongated egg, hovering a metre above the ground.
He only now seemed to become aware that he was still clutching her hand when he glanced back at her and let go. Raiya noticed a door-shaped opening appear in the egg-ship.
‘Follow me,’ he said, approaching the ship, which descended nearer to the ground. Then he stepped in.
The interior seemed far more spacious than the exterior suggested. Roidon sat in the forward seat before a screen. Raiya tentatively lowered herself into the chair beside him; it seemed to perfectly mould to her form. Roidon was telling the ship to move towards certain coordinates. He then looked round at Raiya. He said, ‘I expect you’re wondering why I am doing this, what are my motivations.’
‘I have been wondering,’ she said, sensing he was about to try some convincing explanation.
‘Well, I am not motivated by personal gain, more out of obligation, a sense of responsibility, maybe even a hint of guilt – so I hope I saved you the psychoanalysis, Doctor.’
His candidness made her smile, almost laugh. ‘I wouldn’t want to waste either of our time; you are clearly a man on a noble mission.’
He turned and smiled back at her. ‘I didn’t choose this life, Raiya, and I didn’t ask to be left to prevent what many would tell me is inevitable.’
‘You will have to tell me all about it now, I guess.’
For the next twelve minutes Roidon told her.
‘Now I know my life is in danger,’ she said quite earnestly.
‘Nothing’s really changed except your awareness.’
Raiya hadn't really been paying attention to where they were heading. They'd seemed to be executing a number of evasive manoeuvres. But now the sky had become dark, stars were appearing, and the curvature of the Earth became apparent.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, somewhat fearing the answer.
‘The moon.’
*
He'd been sleeping, he wasn't sure how long or when the dreamstate had become reality. There had, he remembered, been several voices: excited, in awe of him. Then one voice, a clipped, thin, English accent. A face of a man he did not recognise. ‘Torbin Lyndau, my name is Parmayan Redandich. You are here as my special guest.’
Torbin could not speak, he had no facility for speech.
‘I regret we could not have a body prepared for you at this time,’ the man continued. ‘You are currently connected to an artificial one. It may take a while to become accustomed to it, but I urge you to try and make a start.’
Torbin’s peripheral vision was limited as if he was seeing through a short tunnel. When he turned he could see other people, some monitoring equipment, and others were tending to some part of ... him. But it wasn’t him, it was something else. A mechanical man – a robot!
Torbin found he could move. He thrashed his grey servo mechanical arm, knocking over some bleeping monitoring equipment. One of the technicians suddenly appeared, carrying some kind key fob device. As the tech pointed it at Torbin, immediately all mobility was lost. He was paralysed, no different to when he was a brain in liquid.
‘Please, Torbin,’ said Parmayan, in his forward view, ‘we do understand this is a rather distressing time for you.’ The obvious understatement was making him more decisively angry than frightened. Parmayan continued: ‘The evil ones have rendered you in a debilitated state in order to send a message. Your knowledge of them is of infinite value to us. It is not our wish to subject you to a mind trawl, that is why when you are able to talk you must tell us everything.’ The man tapped him on the shoulder. ‘We will leave you now to consider what I have said.’
Parmayan nodded to to his assistant, and they both walked out without a word. The room darkened to a very low amber.
Torbin seemed to have been in a state of semi-consciousness for an indeterminate time when a figure appeared. He recognised the scaly dark grey face, the obsidian eyes, the spindly form.
‘There is very little time,’ said the exiled Elusiver. ‘I cannot connect your voice functions but you now have total movement.’
Torbin stood abruptly, feeling a sudden liberation.
The Elusiver said, ‘Now the B’tari have gone there is only one person who can help you. Unfortunately you are not able to travel by my method, so I have prepared a ship. The coordinates have been sent to your neural interface array. Now please leave.’ The exiled Elusiver disappeared in an instant.
Torbin found he was able to run at considerable speed. The darkness outside was total, but a vector-type grid had appeared in his vision, giving the location of the ship. Its door lowered at his arrival. The interior was very basic, there was no apparent navigation control, not even graphics; only a viewscreen showing the clear Nevada night sky. He had no idea where this craft was headed.
***