The Veil

Sea of Serenity

Luna

3129-MARCH-28

Connor was deep into the story at this point, “So Nate had some questions for me to confirm what they were already mostly confident they knew about me. Questions about how I defined life, where I stood on personal freedoms, and a myriad of others. It was all about my morality and philosophy.” Connor rolled his hand to indicate he was trying to keep the story moving to interesting parts, “Eventually, he started giving me a primer on galactic politics and technology.”

Now John felt a bit of excitement joining his curiosity.

“Doc, you gotta know that the tech they have is absolutely incredible. Medical tech that could cure nearly any disease, energy and resource solutions to prevent starvation and poor living conditions.” Connor sighed, “The problem with most of that is that so much of it could be weaponized.”

John frowned, “But not neural recordings?”

Connor held up two fingers, “Two things. One, neural recording tech integrates a failsafe checksum that corrupts a recording if it’s tampered with. Two, you can’t therefore force a neural recording to become a weapon.”

Thinking on that for a second, John nodded. Without a way to convince a person to become a weapon, that should make neural recordings relatively safe. Then it comes down to the laws, which prevented use of neural recordings as controllers for any tech, least of all military.

“And as you’ve likely surmised, the law handled the rest.” Connored smiled at John the way a professor might smile proudly at a student. “But those limitations and the law also bit us in the ass.”

Connor leaned back into the couch again, “When the military lobbyists failed to get laws past permitting NRs in military tech, they shifted gears and shut down a key component of the tech that Nate brought us.” Sighing heavily, Connor said, “The alien alliance Nate came from believes that digital lives are equal in value. A requirement for introducing the tech to humanity was to require we maintain the lives of all digital humans for as long as they choose to live.”

Frowning, John said, “But we don’t do that.”

“No, we don’t, and we failed to get the laws past to make it happen. So Nate left, but not before making a deal with me.” Connor shook his head, the first time John saw uncertainty on this man’s face, “I had until he returned to fix things. A truly considerable amount of time when you consider the limitations of sub-light travel.”

It was at this time that John saw a flashing red light in the top right corner of his vision. He thought to pull up his HUD and check the message, but that idea was countered by Connor.

“Please don’t answer that,” Connor said, “If you do, I won’t be able to finish this story.”

John looked at the man quizzically, “What do you mean? Why not?”

“If you answer any messages or calls, Doc, you won’t be able to return here, and I won’t be here even if you could.”

Shaking his head, John said, “If I don’t answer an important communication my Director might forcefully disconnect me.”

“No, he won’t.” Connor said firmly, “I can prevent them from disconnecting you until you’re ready.”

“So I’m a prisoner.”

“No, I won’t keep you here against your will, John.”

Using his name and not the nickname Doc did more to convince John that Connor was being both serious, and honest. “Fine. I’ll stick around for the rest of the story.”

Connor nodded in appreciation, “Thank you.” Pausing for a moment to focus on the story, Connor recalled his place before continuing, “It’s important to note that while Nate’s pod was limited to sub-light speeds, he did tell me that the alliance has limited use of faster than light technology, and access to some form of spatial anomalies. I don’t know the full extent, just that Nate’s pod couldn’t use either.”

John nodded. While it wasn’t uninteresting, he really wanted to get to the relevance of this whole story.

“As part of our deal, Nate agreed to send a signal when they returned. Depending on the response they received back, it would determine their next actions.” Connor was once again in a more relaxed state, though not quite to the point of putting his feet up. “My job was to make sure someone was here to receive and respond.”

John shook his head, “You took a risk trying to be that someone.”

Connor frowned, “Don’t get me wrong, Doc. I fought tooth and nail to change the laws. I had hoped that if those laws could change, I would be able to confide in someone else to hold down the fort, as it were.” Connor sighed long and hard, “I’m not a man of hubris, John. I don’t care about legacy, or having my name in the history books. I’m an idealist, that’s all.”

John took Connor’s brief pause to remember a quote from one of his history books in university.

Connor Ashford was not your typical nerd or geek. While he certainly had that polite southern charm of someone born in the lower regions of the old United States, he didn’t flaunt his intellect or inventions, choosing instead to live the quiet life of a man raised in a rural farm town. If not for his political activism in the fight for neural recordings to persist well after their host body had died, we wouldn’t have many quotes from the man. The most famous of which came from a congressional hearing in which a congresswoman accused him of hubris, and trying to be remembered as some sort of god.

For his part, Connor calmly replied, “I don’t care if I’m remembered, and I don’t care if my inventions are remembered. I only care that humanity is around to remember.”

John broke his reverie and focused back on Connor, who had been waving a hand in the air to get John’s attention. “Sorry, just remembering something.”

“While I would love to delve into what could distract you that thoroughly, Doc, we don’t have forever.”

John gestured for Connor to return to the story, “Please, continue.”

“Suffice to say, I didn’t have any luck changing the laws. Between the angry lobbyists who wanted it for military tech, and the religious lobbyists who called it an abomination, there was no way I could muster an equal fight.” Shaking his head, Connor said, “So I went to plan B. I died.”

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John would have spit out his coffee or done a double-take if the circumstances were right. The comment was so matter-of-fact.

Connor smirked at the look he saw on John’s face, “Yeah, not my favourite plan either. But with enough time, money, and patience you can plan for damn near anything, and that includes infiltrating nearly every major computer network in the star system.”

John’s look was incredulous, but some key details fell into place at that moment, and he couldn’t help but smile at how deviously simple and effective the plan was. “Your company redefined computer technology in the late 28th and early 29th centuries. Hardware and software. The company has rebranded over the centuries, but one thing always remained the same. A mysterious and recluse owner who never does interviews, ever.”

Connor tapped the side of his nose, “I knew I liked you, Doc. You’re too clever by half.”

“You crafty sonuvabitch. You guys infected every damn computer system in Sol. Civilian, military, government. Everything uses your tech.” John couldn’t keep the amazement from his face at the scale and audacity of it all.

Connor smiled widely, “It was the only thing I could think to do. Infect it all, survive for centuries in digital form, and wait for the signal.”

“Which brings us to the Maiden.” John said, trying to anticipate the conversation.

“Almost.” Connor said, “First I had to receive the signal. Which came in about two months before the Maiden launched. So I made plans to get myself on the ship via a data module.”

“The corrupt stellar cartography data.” John said.

“Right again, Doc.” Connor nodded, “But there were some unforeseen complications.”

John scrunched his face up in thought, “The crew?”

Connor shook his head, “No, if this went to plan they never would have known I was onboard. No, it was something far worse. The military.”

“There weren’t any military personnel onboard the Maiden.” John said, disagreeing with the man telling his story.

“There weren’t any physical military personnel,” Connor countered, “But those bastards had a secret weaponized neural recording program. Volunteers from patriotic nutjobs. They got one onboard with the transmitted cartography data.”

John’s eyes widened in concern and surprise, “They’re weaponizing neural recordings of volunteers? Volunteer or not, that’s unethical and illegal.”

Connor rubbed his face and chin, “Like that’s ever stopped them, Doc. That bastard murdered everyone in engineering and section D because they were trying to fix the problems he created every time he and I fought inside the ship’s systems.” Connor slammed a fix on the coffee table. “I couldn’t even save them. He did something to their neural recordings, corrupting every one of them.”

John could see the anger and anguish in Connor’s eyes. Hard things to fake, even for a neural recording. “What happened, Connor? Why were you on the ship, and how did it end up destroyed?”

Connor took a minute to calm down, but his trademark smirk didn’t return, and he was having trouble meeting John’s gaze. “I had planned to launch myself in one of the Black Box probes out past the outer system where I could be picked up by Nate’s people.” Shaking his head, Connor continued, “But that asshole military agent kept screwing with the plan. My plan B was to transmit a high-powered tight beam from the forward communications array. Strong enough to cut through the heliosphere.” Wiping a hand down his face, Connor finally made eye contact with John again. “I can’t be positive the message got off. I had to retreat into the last functioning Black Box probe to protect as many neural recordings as possible. That military agent sabotaged the other probes and murdered those people.”

“Who blew up the ship?” John asked tentatively, quietly, unsure if he wanted the answer.

Connor deflated a bit, but still held a firm voice. “That’s his handiwork, Doc. Bastard used some secret military codes to turn off the matter/antimatter regulators. Shoved a whole lot of fuel into the main reactor chamber. The whole system failed in seconds.”

John thought for a second, then asked, “Did he make it out?”

Shaking his head, Connor said, “I don’t think so. I haven’t detected him in your systems, and I made damn sure he couldn’t get on my probe.”

John didn’t think that was the end of the story, but Connor didn’t seem to be making a move to continue. “So what’s next, Connor?”

“Next?” Connor asked, “Next is Nate’s people roll up into this system, and sue for the freedom of all digital beings.”

John’s voice caught in his throat as he tried to ask, “What?”

“Whether or not they got my message Doc, they’re coming. For them, life is an absolutely sacred thing. Biological, digital, it doesn’t matter.” Connor’s tone was firm and serious, “They won’t stand by while humanity murders tens of thousands of digital humans every year. Especially not when they provided the technology.”

“Shit, when will they be here?” John asked, preparing to disconnect himself from the virtual environment.

Connor seemed a bit surprised at John’s reaction. “Doc, you haven’t been listening. They’re already here. Why do you think I said this is the last time we would talk?”

John tried to disconnect from the virtual environment, but received an error. “Emergency exit!” He said.

“Identify.” Came the voice of the computer.

“Doctor John Alistair.”

The voice responded again. “Passphrase.”

“Dead men tell the best tales.” John said in a rush.

“Emergency exit unavailable at this time.” The computer responded.

John stared daggers at the man sitting across from him, “Let me out, Connor!”

Connor raised his hands placatingly, “I will, but before I do, one last thing.”

John’s anger was rising, “Make it fast.”

“Before they leave, they’re going to offer any humans who want to join them as neural recordings to do so.” Connor said, a gentle tone in his voice. “I’ll be going with them, but I think you might want to consider their offer as well.”

“Why would I give up my flesh and blood body for a digital cage with an alien race, Connor?” John was almost yelling at the other man now.

“Because they can give you a new body on the other side.”

With that stunning revelation, John was kicked out of the Virtual environment.

John’s mouth was agape, trying to wrap his head around the last thing Connor said to him. His thoughts were interrupted though, as a quickly flashing red light in the top right of his HUD began flashing.

Focusing on it, John was met with the sight of his Director, “Where the hell have you been, John? Shit’s going to hell in a handbasket!”

“Sorry, Sir. You wouldn’t believe me if I described it in detail.” John’s voice started out meek, but gained in strength as he spoke. “What’s going on?”

“Unknown contacts entered our solar system thirty minutes ago. Thousands of them. They’re converging on every human settlement and station.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, John took a breath then said, “Tell whomever will listen not to fire on them. I’m fairly confident they’re not here to hurt us.”

“How the hell could you possibly know that, John?” The Director sounded miffed and scared.

“Connor Ashford.” John said, by way of answer.

The Director looked at John as if he had grown additional heads. “What about him?”

John’s gaze was distant, but his voice was firm. “He’s been expecting these aliens for a long, long time.”

Shaking his head, the Director said, “Jesus Christ, John. I’ll see who I can talk to, but we’re not in anyone’s chain of command. Chances they listen to us are pretty slim.”

“Well, it’s that or someone fires on the aliens and they wipe us out with their superior technology.” John’s voice was sarcastic with this response, and he regretted the moment he finished speaking.

“Great, I’ve got aliens sniffing up my ass and you decided now is the time to jump down my throat. Figure your shit out, John. Director, out.” The call disconnected and John felt his cheeks redden.

“Now what, John?” He asked in the emptiness of his apartment. An apartment he now felt was too large for a bachelor. A sense of melancholic loneliness settling over him.

La Fin