Lynn tried to grasp the memories that flashed by but a pain stabbed at his temples.
“Stop that, Lynn – unguided mnemonic activation is dangerous,” Sai cautioned as a few glaring symbols flashed in front of his retina, warning him not to overtax the recent mnemonic implantation. “You need to follow the Cognitive Stabilization Protocol to avoid damage.”
Lynn rubbed his temples and adjusted his breathing to calm down, trying his best to not follow all the new associations swirling in his mind.
“You gave me all this knowledge and now its too dangerous to look at?”
“The data is safe, Lynn. It is how you interpret it that is dangerous. If your mind sees these memories as foreign, it might reject them, potentially leading to identity fragmentation and other issues. You need to get the right anchors to let your brain adopt to the information over time.”
“Identity fragmentation? I thought you said there were only minor risks involved with the mnemonic seed. . .”
“Minor physical risks,” the A.I. corrected, sounding almost proud over the loophole it had used.
Lynn grunted. He had been tricked, but knowing it before would not have changed his choice. He might not even have understood what identity fragmentation was to be honest.
“What do I need to do?”
“Ideally, you should be kept in i a low-stimulus chamber for the next 48 hours but Sai doubts circumstances will allow that,” the A.I. muttered, sounding a but annoyed that procedure can’t be followed. “We will begin with the verbal re-alignment exercise for now. Sai will ask a series of questions, you answer with what comes to mind. “
“Okay.”
“What is your name?”
“Lynn of Gakkvisa”
“What are your parents names?”
“Hayden and Dalila.”
“How old are you?”
For a moment, the number 6.5 came to mind, causing Lynn to frown in confusion.
“I’m . . . 25, right?”
“By this planets standards, yes. By Federation standards, you are considered 6.5 ages.”
Information about translating planetary rotations into Federation age surfaced from Lynn’s new memories. The thought stung his head for a moment, but the discomfort quickly faded.
“How old is Adan by Federation standards?”
“Officially, soon 5.3.”
“The birthday . . .” Lynn’s thoughts went back to the awkward smile on Adan’s face the evening they first arrived in the Sun Tribes’ camp and he learnt it was her birthday. It suddenly made sense that she would not think of mentioning her birthday; it was simply her locally translated birthday, not tied to an actual date of her birth.
“Wait, officially?”
“It is not as straightforward as you might think. The Amazonians are brought to term artificially and are released from their incubation tanks at a more mature state than normal children. It is indeed 5.3 ages since she was released from the tank but, cognitively speaking, her age would be more comparable to your own.”
“Amazonians . . .”
The term caused several tidbits of information to surface from Lynn’s memory. They were Federation heroes. Biomedically altered warrior maidens fighting at the forefront of galactic war. Each one capable of leading an army when working alone and, when they worked together, entire galaxies would shake.
A soft chuckle brought Lynn’s dazed mind back to the present. “Sai cautions against getting distracted by Federation propaganda. The Amazonians are indeed formidable and do, on occasion, act as generals, but their true strength lies in covert operations and elite mecha piloting.”
Lynn shuddered in instinctive fear and fascination as an image of a metallic monster came to mind, towering over buildings and soaring through the air. Pain throbbed at his temples.
“We are digressing from protocol,” Sai warned. “Describe a childhood memory unrelated to combat.”
Stumped, Lynn blinked a few times before he managed to push away the image of the gigantic monster and register the question. He thought back on his life in the Marquese barracks, struggling to lock onto something in particular for a moment.
“Um, I recall that my mother forbade me from riding horses for a year after a fall broke my arm and my male identity was almost exposed by the doctor.”
“When was this?”
“Twelve years ago.”
“Mention something that happened twelve days ago.”
“Adan kicked my ass during training?”
The A.I. snorted. “Sai was after something a bit more specific but it will do. What color is the blanket in the bed?”
Lynn glanced down. The fabric was coarse, mainly grey but with flecks of blue woven into it. He answered the question, and several other questions that followed. They were sometimes deep, sometimes entirely random, but as the questions came, Lynn felt his headaches loosening up and his mind growing more and more stable.
More like himself.
“Now, the last question from today’s program,” Sai finally informed. “What do you fear the most?”
Lynn paused. What he had always feared more than anything was losing his family. The thought of how his very existence put them in danger had plagued him for as long as he could remember. Recently, he had met Adan and, in her presence, Lynn had started to relax. She had given him a path forward and a chance to be himself.
He still feared losing his family, but Lynn no longer felt so helpless about it. He was simply determined to do everything in his power to save them and felt peace with that he would leave no regrets behind.
“Regrets . . .” Lynn thought of Adan and the charred mess she had been in his arms just hours earlier. The pain he had felt, and still felt, as he thought about those golden green eyes never smiling back at him again. . . . He regretted not telling Adan how he felt about her when he had the chance.
“I don’t want to lose Adan,” Lynn whispered, head low. “To lose her before I even had a chance to get her.”
Sai was silent for a moment. “You have learned about the vast universe outside this world, about the dangers that exist there, and losing Adan is you greatest fear?”
Lynn chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, there is a lot of things in my mind now that creep me out and I think sleeping will be hard the coming days, but if it means I can help Adan, I don’t care. I will face it all.”
“. . . Sai hopes you hold on to that resolve.”
Although Lynn’s new memories assured him that the A.I. now speaking to him wasn’t an artificial being and should not be able to truly have feelings, the concern in its voice seemed very real. Very human. Lynn wasn’t sure if the knowledge about A.I. made him feel more or less comfortable with the new companion in his mind, but he did find comfort in that humane touch. He took a deep breath.
“Sai?”
“Yes.”
“You seem to really care about Adan.”
“Affirmative.”
“Can you explain to me then why do you have to kill her?” Lynn clenched his fists. He did his best to suppress the anger that welled up within him but the temperature in his room had already started to drop.
An audible sigh rang out in Lynn’s mind. “To explain this several factors must be taken into consideration. Pull from your memories the concepts Amazonian Platoon and Subdermal Artificial Intelligence. We have already touched upon the former, what do you associate with the latter?”
“Subdermal Artificial Intelligence, a standard biomedical implant provided to all citizens of the Federation to assist them in their daily lives. They start out at a general setting, mainly to allow long distance communication and growth support, but as an individual grows, the Subdermal A.I. will get upgraded to match the users preferences and needs.”
Lynn marveled at himself as he spoke. The fact that he knew all this without effort was an odd notion to get used to. A big part of him also feared what else could be changed in his mind if the A.I. wanted to.
“Correct. Of course, the Amazonians are no exception. They too have an S.A.I. unit implanted at birth, but for the Amazonians, the implant does not simply function as a helpful companion. The Amazonian’s S.A.I. has three main functions: protection, assistance and control,” Sai explained with unusual patients. “It protects their host from the onslaught of sensory data that their biomedical alterations bring with it. It assists their host with mission relevant information and guidance. It controls their host from disobeying orders and . . . deals out punishments if needed.”
“Punishment?” Lynn felt his body tensing, he did not like where this was going.
“Affirmative. Depending on the severity of the breach, varying degrees of punishments are delt. On the lower end of the scale, the S.A.I. is allowed to deduct salaries or remove benefits for minor misdemeanors. As the severity increases, either due to impact or time sensitivity, physical punishments are added.”
Before he had a chance to ask how this was possible, Lynn winched as he felt a stabbing pain in his hand. It passed as suddenly as it came and when he looked down on his hand, no visible damage could be seen.
“What you just new felt is simply a demonstration. Sai bypassed your sensory data and induced a feigned feeling of pain in your hand. There are no nanobots in your blood, so Sai is unable to do any actual damage to you, but it should illustrate the severity.”
A shiver ran down Lynn’s spine. The pain had felt so very real. If Sai could fake more severe damages, the sensations could quickly become unbearable.
“Indeed, for an untrained person such as yourself, the mind’s perception of pain is just as dangerous as the actual damage. You should have the notion of nocebo effect in your memories now. For an untrained person, believing that your heart has stopped could be enough to actually stop it.”
Lynn swallowed.
“Do not worry, Sai is not authorized to administer such punishment to civilians.”
Lynn swallowed again. “But to Adan . . . ?”
“In theory, yes, Sai is authorized. However, Adan has special training and a higher brain capacity than most – Sai is unable to trick her sensory data to that degree. Thus, for Amazonians, physical punishment means actual physical punishment, through the use of nanobots.”
A glowing projection unfolded before Lynn’s eyes—a swarm of specks, magnified until their shapes resolved into tiny, nanoscopic, clawed machines. They swam through an artery like insects in water, hundreds of them writhing in perfect formation.
They quickly reached the heart.
Lynn flinched as the projection showed the bots burrowing, tearing through living tissue with unhindered ease. The heart ruptured in seconds, bursting into a red ruin. He felt the echo of pain in his own chest, sharp and suffocating, as if his ribs had been wired shut.
The bots paused. Then—calmly, methodically—they began stitching the flesh back together, weaving a new heart from the shreds of the old. In moments, it beat again. As if nothing had happened.
Except Lynn couldn’t unsee it. Couldn’t unknow that such a thing existed.
Tears blurred his vision before he realized they’d fallen. His voice cracked, raw, “Adan has gone through that? The pain must be—”
“This particular punishment has not been administered to Adan, no. Electric shock is more common. However, organ destruction is within the list of approved disciplinary actions.”
“Electri—” Lynn choked and slammed his fist into the wall, causing ice to spread out like a fan around the point of impact. “Why would you do something like that to another human!?”
“That is a question for the Federation Council. As it is, Sai has no choice but to follow protocol: if Adan does not follow orders, Sai must punish her accordingly.”
“And what order breach is sever enough that it would force you to kill her!?” Lynn was screaming now and the temperature in the room way below freezing, but he didn’t care.
A self-depriving chuckle came from the A.I.. “Many, actually, but the one causing issues right now is from standard protocol: all Amazonians must report their position at all times. There are some exceptions and the earliest breaches do not warrant such a sever punishment, but, if one Federation month passes without any contact, they Amazonian is considered as either defected or captured. Either way, death is the only solution.”
Uninvited, the translation surfaced in Lynn’s mind. A Federation month was roughly four and a half months in his planet’s counting. Thinking back, Adan must have been here for maybe five weeks. . . . Just over three months left. The realization
“Are you telling me that the Federation would kill someone for not keeping in contact for a few months?”
“Adan is not just someone, Lynn, and it is not as unreasonable as it sounds. Given the coverage of DSP, an Amazonian’s location report is done every second as a stable, standardized procedure. For that information to not reach the Federation for a longer period of time, someone must deliberately block it out.”
“So they deserve to die?” Frost and ice now covered every inch of the room, even the blood dripping from Lynn’s clenched fists fell like rubies to the ground. “What if they are held isolated against their will?”
“Even in capture, an Amazonian would typically still be able to project their location. A month is considered the longest unknown status risk possible.”
“You can’t seriously be defending this, Sai!? Adan will die!”
The A.I. fell silent.
For a long time, the only thing Lynn could hear was the blood pumping in his ears and his own ragged breathing, frost bellowing out with each breath. He had almost stopped expecting a reply when the A.I. finally spoke again.
“Adan is my reason for existing, Lynn.” The voice was curt, anger simmering beneath vailed control. “You cannot even begin to imagine what Sai thinks about this.”
For Lynn it felt like a switch was flipped in his mind. The visual overlays, that he had just started to get used to, disappeared with a flash. Only a small status window hovered in a corner.
[Temporary S.A.I. Link Offline]
“Sai?”
No response.
Lynn sighed. He understood that Sai’s hands where tied, but when he thought about that lopsided smile Adan would give him whenever she planned something mischievous, pain gripped his heart.
She had seemed so . . . carefree.
Like no matter what happened, she would face it with a playful smile. Like no challenge was beyond her capabilities.
How could she have been walking around with so much weight on her shoulders?
Lynn collapsed back on the frozen bed, pulling his legs to his chest. He wanted to shout in rage. To break something. But he was still, silent tears filling his eyes.
He had sworn to start protecting her, but what could he possibly do that Adan and Sai hadn’t already tried?
In corridors Lynn had long left behind, earsplitting alarms rang out as red lights flickered on and off. A structural damage warning no one present could understand.
Ignoring the annoying sound, Emberon strode towards the test chamber with eager steps, expecting charred bodies and nothing more. The Ancient’s sliding doors, that usually moved so swiftly, hissed and glitched as they opened and smoke rolled out in sluggish curls, clinging to the air like the breath of a dying forge.
Emberon waved away the smoke and beyond it he saw a blackened room. Some blackened surface material lay in burning lumps on the ground but in general, the room seemed structurally intact.
“A testament to the Ancient’s craftmanship indeed.” He inhaled, relishing the acrid tang in the air. “They must have been charred beyond recognition,” he muttered, almost giddy. “Nothing could have survived this. Not even an Ancient.”
Yet, as he stepped further in, the corners of his mouth twitched. Something was off. No bodies. Not even a fragment of something that looked convincingly human. His eyes narrowed.
“They should have left some traces. . .”
For a moment, doubt pricked at him and it intensified when he noticed that a small section of the far wall had actually collapsed. He recalled the image of the King’s empty cell. The flicker of the strange glyph above the bodyguard’s head. A true Ancient, meddling where he shouldn’t. Could even the Ancient’s own explosion not guarantee their end? Could they have escaped?
His fists clenched. He wanted to believe they were gone, but his gut twisted. Regardless, dead or gone, Emberon now had a bigger issue.
“Damn it!”
Emberon stormed back to his office, growling in annoyance at the sirens that just wouldn’t stop ringing as he ran down the winding corridors. The sirens had started not long after he had set of the MOAB. At first he had thought in a novice experience—learning something new about these mysterious ruin—but Emberon did not know how to turn them off and they were really getting to him now.
“Bloody Ancients!” he muttered as he burst into his office. His previously stacked documents and folders lay scattered across the room, evidence of the ice bastard and Ancient’s probing. Emberon didn’t care. He strode over to the far table and shoveled away clutter until he found it: the medallion, bronze and shaped like a flaming sun.
The Seal. The key to finding and opening the Ancient’s mysterious vault.
“How am I going to activate it now . . . without the Ancient’s corpse the blood is-”
Emberon’s breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the medallion. Although it looked the same as usual, the heat radiating from the metal surface was unnaturally warm. With trembling hands, Emberon picked up the Seal, cradling it carefully in his palms. His eyes glowed with reverence and greed.
It had been activated.
“The heaven’s are truly on my side,” he whispered, an almost manic smile growing on his lips. “The prophesies were right, fate demands the Seal to be broken, and break it will!”
Emberon brushed his thumb against the center of the sun-shaped medallion and applied pressure. With a soft click, the indentation there moved, causing the suns rays to fan out in a twisting motion. As Emberon moved away his thumb, a warm glow gushed out of the Seal, causing a golden globe to appear hovering above it. On the globe’s surface, a small, mesmerizing dot of light pulsed slowly.
Emberon’s smile twisted with frantic joy, teeth flashing in the dim glow of the Seal.
The worries he had about the duo’s survival dimmed, smothered by hunger. He finally had what he needed. Soon the vault would be found and opened. Soon, the ultraplasm rifle would be his.
So what if the Ancient and his little ice bastard still lived? So what if the King resurfaced and exposed his crimes.
“Then let them come. I will enjoy burning them out of existence with my own hands!”
With a flurry of fabrics, Emberon hurried out of his office and into the maze of tunnels. He no longer cared about the alarms ringing out around him.
Snowy Publications 