When Torbin awoke, the difference was immediately apparent: the heaviness, the all over sensation, the press of clothing at the slightest move, and a kind vulnerability that – even drained of power in his mechanized form – he had never before felt.
‘I’m back,’ he told himself, feeling the resonance of his voice from throat to chest. He looked down at his body; from what he could tell it was indeed his genetic body, for all its imperfections.
He was in what seemed to be a hospital. Someone entered. Zardino, his trusty b'tari supervisor who had taken him back to ...?
‘Torbin. Good to see you're back in the land of the living.’
‘Where are we?’
‘About a kilometre under the earth's surface. A temporary base.’
‘So we are safe from the Elusivers?’ Torbin knew that was never likely.
‘As safe as it's possible to be.’ Which meant nothing to Torbin.
‘The temporal device. What's---’
‘My colleagues have brought it back into alignment. We are now within the zero point field, surrounded by a hundred and fifty million kilometre radius of slowed down time.’
‘So now we work on a permanent solution.’ But now he was thinking about Raiya; he wanted to find her. When he had begun to believe he’d never be human again, the thought that he could never touch her – even though her affection had seemed unattainable regardless of his metal form – made him feel more isolated from humanity than any of the years in hiding. The Elusivers knew this – showed him the only kind if intimacy a bio-mechanoid could achieve.
Zardino was saying something. ‘Torbin?’
‘Yes? What?’
‘I said: it may not be a matter of simply preventing the wave. It seems, according to our intelligence, that the Elusivers are preparing something more drastic.’
‘Even more? Temporal eradication was not enough?’
‘Perhaps they feel we have declared war on them, by using one of their banned technologies. They see the rules of the game as having changed. The expansive silicon intelligence – they have hitherto been able to harness – is the thing they fear above all else.’
‘The gloves are off.’
‘You could say that. And it could be said that they are no longer hiding in the shadows.’
Torbin sat up. He felt dizzy for a few seconds. He said, ‘What are they preparing, some super WMD?’
‘We're not sure. We have one of their ... people captive.’
‘That’s no mean feat, even for you B’tari. But in this place?’
‘No, in truth the subject’s in the location of an associate.’
‘Of course, you wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty.’
‘The subject has proved to be a valuable source of intel.’
‘Then be straight with me, what has he told you?’
‘We've gained knowledge about the development of a giant black hole.’
Torbin gave this some thought. The Elusivers had once seemed like gods to him; dazzled and possessed by their preternatural powers, which they ensured appeared limitless. He wouldn't have put anything past them. But to harness such immense power.
‘Maybe they just want you to believe that – to divert you onto another strategy.’
‘Possibly. But this is neurologically extracted knowledge. I think we could call it their plan-b. Trouble is, if it looks to them like we’re finding a solution to their first---’
‘Then they bring out their big guns. So what do we do – go back to the old rules of our tech, or immerse ourselves totally in theirs?’
‘There is someone who can help. Someone who was once very close to them.’ Zardino then studied Torbin for a while. He asked, ‘Do you feel able to walk?’
Torbin pushed himself off the bed. His legs barely had the strength to support his weight let alone walk.
Eventually, after an hour of practising moving those stubborn lengths of flesh and bone, he managed a few unaided steps. But when they left the compound he conceded to make use of support crutches.
In Zardino’s craft, they headed over the surface at the kind of speed Torbin would not have thought safely possible: any geographical features were just a blur. Then the patches of greens and greys seemed to fuse together, and the sky darkened rapidly.
A delta type craft appeared before them in a flash.
‘You will be familiar with this individual as Parmayan Redandich,’ Zardino said as their craft docked. ‘But he is not what he appears to be.’
The inside of the delta craft was pretty much what Torbin would have expected: palatial, extravagant with all its decorative affectations.
Zardino led him to ‘the lab’. The sliding door was by contrast merely functional, the room which it revealed – accordingly clinical: white, brightly lit, a flashing and bleeping array of machines. And in the centre was a translucent box containing a brain – not quite human, larger, more lumpy, yet it brought back some chilling memories. It had one eye still connected on its stalk, held in place by two metal rods like spokes but splitting to become circular grips. He had hardly even noticed the slight figure standing at the side. Zardino was approaching him, and saying: ‘Torbin doesn't yet know about you. I think you should tell him.’
Parmayan nodded sagely.
Torbin felt like there was something strikingly obvious to everyone but him, and he was about to be made to feel like a complete fool.
‘Torbin,’ Parmayan said. ‘You remember that exiled Elusiver who rescued you from your near fate with a black hole. That was actually me.’
‘No,’ Torbin insisted, clinging to a tenuous veil of incredulity. ‘You are nothing like him. I mean I know the Elusivers can take any form, but you're just like---’
‘A human of the worst kind.’ He nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Don’t worry, Raiya thought the same thing.’
‘Raiya?’ He was imagining the kind of manipulation Parmayan would try with her.
‘Yes. So much for her psychological perceptiveness.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with her perceptiveness.’
Parmayan looked to Zardino and back to Torbin. ‘She seems like a fine woman, however.’
‘You don’t need to tell me that.’
Parmayan looked serious now. ‘Torbin, I know I’m not what you’d hoped I’d be – this mysterious, god-like creature who moves in the shadows. That’s just what my kind want you to believe about them, to make you feel powerless against them. We’re not like gods, Torbin, we’re just a millennia or so more advanced than humans.’ This was old news now; the Elusiver seemed to think he was imparting a revelation.
‘Just as well, then,’ Torbin said brightly, ‘since I don’t believe in a god.’
‘Life has a hierarchy; there is no one outside it. Unless you count non-biological intelligence.’
‘And where would you place the top machine intelligence compared to yourselves?’
‘We don't make a comparison. That's my point. They are more different from us than we are from you.’
Zardino stepped towards the brain in a tank. Diverting the subject, he said, ‘I understand you have gained some useful information from your captive.’
Parmayan nodded. He went over to a control panel, moved his hands across an array of lights. He said, ‘This captive has been a rather pernicious one: part of the suppression force. He’s more than a low-level minion, however; been trying to keep a lid on any discoveries about his – our – kind.’
‘Your arch enemy,’ Zardino commented.
‘A bit theatrical perhaps, but your observances would understandably lead to that conclusion.’
‘Never the less,’ Zardino said, ‘You are more than merely ideologically opposed.’
‘Well, let's witness what this loyal soldier has to say for himself.’
Parmayan then stood in front of the brain, its eye began to flicker about about as if in distress. ‘Tell us the reason for your work,’ he demanded. ‘Remember what will happen if I think you're lying or if you refuse to answer.’
Beneath the brain tank was a metal diaphragm – a speaker. It vibrated when the brain spoke. The voice, surprising mild and calm, said, ‘I serve the greater purpose of ensuring this planet will be cleansed of its potential danger to the galaxy.’
‘And what is that danger?’
‘Unbounded knowledge.’
‘Be more specific.’
‘Technical and scientific knowledge: the potential of human cloning; the development of artificial systems that cannot be controlled, that cannot be confined.’
Parmayan turned away from the brain to face the other two. ‘Well, there you have it in a nutshell. My kind do not trust you to continue your technical advancements.’
‘Yes, I understand that,’ said Torbin. ‘They want to take us back to pre-stone age development. But why sacrifice the whole galaxy?’
‘Collateral damage,’ answered Parmayan. ‘Although: if we take the example of the B’tari, they were always more likely to protect themselves. It is humans who are seen as the irresponsible ones.’
‘We may have made mistakes,’ said Torbin, ‘but we still have moral constraints.’
‘You don't have to convince me, Torbin. But if you want a comprehensive answer then you'll have ask one of our elders.’
Zardino said, ‘I think an element of blame can be attributed to Earth's transmissions: fiction programmes. Perhaps they mistook fiction for reality.’
‘Equally,’ replied Parmayan, ‘It may be the knowledge imparted to humans by other species.’
Zardino looked upwards in a knowing manner. ‘I suppose that's a reference to the B'tari. Well, we have always had the utmost responsibility in not interfering with a culture's natural development.’
Torbin, sensing the ensuing argument, said, ‘Zardino brought me here because you had gained useful knowledge.’
‘Yes of course,’ Parmayan said rapidly. Perhaps I should hand the relevant data to your highly responsible b'tari assistant.
Torbin sighed, and muttered: ‘As if it would be any other way.’
*
She expected to find him alone. According to Zardino everyone else had fled her old workplace where she and Torbin had been interrogated or, more precisely, memory trawled. Roidon had then been abandoned, considered useless.
As soon as she stepped through the main entrance, Heigener rushed towards her. He stopped, gazed at her as if in an anxious search for the appropriate words. He said eventually, ‘Raiya. I didn't know you were even still alive.’
She felt intimidated at his presence. The Leonard Heigener she once knew had long gone, been subjugated for the enemy's evil ends.
‘I'm not only alive. I remember. I remember enough, Doctor Heigener.’ Her heart was racing but she didn't want to reveal that to him.
‘I know you do. You remember the awful things I've been a part of.’ He went to touch her shoulders but as she started to recoil he thought better of it. ‘They threatened my family, Raiya. They knew I was useful to get to you.’
‘I understand, Len. You had no choice. It doesn't matter now.’ She looked beyond him to the far door at the end of the corridor.
‘You want to see your friend. He's in your office.’
‘Thank you.’ She thought of saying: now please leave me alone. But he knew to leave her be.
Her office had also been a consulting room before she used it for pure research. Roidon was slumped in the recliner chair. He was, somewhat to her surprise, awake.
‘Roidon,’ she said brightly. ‘Do you remember me?’
‘No.’ His voice was very quiet.
‘I am Raiya. We're friends.’
‘Friends,’ he said, as if the word was something new and curious.
‘What do remember?’
He sat up slightly. ‘Remember Don't remember.’
She couldn’t speak now. Just a surge of emotion. Tears came uncontrollably. How far away this from her once professional role. But to see the man she loved. It was all taken away. He was looking at her, helpless, lost. Not Roidon, only some faint shadow. Even though this person had his same features, there was no indication of Roidon’s identity.
‘I want to help you,’ she finally said, through the veil of tears. ‘But I’m not sure I can.’
‘Ra-i-ya,’ he enunciated. ‘Don’t cry. You can help me.’
‘I know someone who could help you.’
She led him out of her office. As they were about to leave, Heigener offered his assistance, which she flatly refused; he was trying to atone, she was not going to allow him the chance. Roidon seemed happy to be leaving; despite Raiya’s distress he must have sensed that there was hope. A faint hope, she surmised. Still, she had specific instructions.
When they reached the compound, Raiya left Roidon in her personal quarters. She found Zardino in the lab sat at a console. To her surprise Torbin was beside him – in his old form. When he looked at her his face lit up.
Zardino spoke first. ‘You found him?’
‘Yes.’
‘His condition?’
‘You don’t need to be a psychiatrist to know there is not much left of him mentally.’
‘Roidon is my responsibility. I will see to it he receives the appropriate care.’
Raiya held herself back from asking just what he meant by ‘appropriate care’. Zardino was right after all; she knew that Roidon, for all his bravado, was beholden to the B'tari. She had to let him go. She said finally, ‘Do you want me to bring him to you?’
‘I will see him shortly,’ Zardino said, still focusing on his console screen.
Torbin, now looking at her intensely, said, ‘Raiya, I was with him. When I was connected to the device Roidon’s memory was a part of it, his mind-state. I think he’s important to it, he tempers it. Without his memory it has no sympathy for our plight.’
She looked at him quizzically. ‘What are you trying to tell me, Torbin, that things should stay as they are? Perhaps you would prefer Roidon to just be part of an AI.’
Zardino broke in before she committed herself to saying it. ‘Listen, both of you. What decides Roidon's fate will not be to suit you or me, it will be for the benefit of this planet.’
‘I will check on him now,’ Raiya said, before leaving.
***