July 19, 1999, Las Vegas, Earth
11:55 AM
The invention of telepathy half a century ago had completely transformed the operational methods of Sunguard Special Agents, Paul mused. There was nothing mystical about it: the human brain functioned as a complex circuitry of chemical and electrical signals. That electrical activity could be meticulously measured - in fact, those measurements had been conducted since the early 20th century. The more detailed one could gauge the electromagnetic field of the brain, the clearer the image one could attain of its inner workings. A century later, with the help of rudimentary artificial intelligence, it was already possible to reconstruct rough images of a person's thoughts from electroencephalogram recordings. The more advanced the artificial intelligence and the more powerful the computer employed in the processing, the more detailed the reconstruction could be achieved.
And the biotic brain was exceptionally powerful indeed.
It functioned both ways, as well. Not only could a telepathic biotic Special Agent read the thoughts of another brain - within a certain distance, approximately 50 meters, due to the inverse square law - but it could also influence those thoughts. By emitting a precisely controlled electromagnetic field, it was possible to induce new electrical signals into the nerves of another body. Low-level electricity for inducing feelings and images, higher levels to temporarily or permanently fry the nerves of the target.
That was all well for reading and influencing a biological brain, whose nerve impulses, due to the intricate interplay of chemical and electrical signaling, traveled at a speed of a mere hundred meters per second. A biotic brain, however, freed from the constraints of chemical signaling and solely utilizing electrical currents, operated at speeds approaching that of light. Not even the biotic brain was powerful enough to interpret the electromagnetic field of another biotic brain. That would be akin to attempting to run software emulation of a processor at full speed on another processor of the exact same model.
Still, although he could not read or influence the minds of other biots, he could at least register the electromagnetic field emitted by their brains, even though he was unable to interpret it.
Paul had traversed the expanse of the United States, stopping in the bustling centers of larger cities, where politicians and lobbyists busied themselves. There, he reached out with his mind, planting suggestions deep within their unconscious. It was, in a sense, akin to the hypnotic suggestions that biologicals had been exploring for centuries; however, when performed by a biot using electromagnetic telepathy, it was safer and infinitely more precise.
In the minds of those he had met, he implanted a deep suggestion that whenever they considered firearms in a favorable light, a wave of nausea would wash over them, accompanied by flashes of images depicting the victims of those same weapons. The more favorable the thought was, the stronger the nausea became.
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July 23, 1999, Sacramento, Earth
10:49 AM
Paul Williams was en route from the California State Capitol to the airport when he suddenly jolted upright in the taxi, as if an invisible bolt of electricity had surged through him. In fact, that was not far from the truth - the sensitive biotic neurons in his telepathic center had passed through an electromagnetic field of unexpected complexity, inducing a weak current in it. A signature he recognized from past encounters.
It was not the field of a biological brain, as he had expected. This was something else.
It was another biot.
For ethical reasons, he had deliberately chosen to conduct his current training mission on an already existing secondary timeline, avoiding the creation of a new branch of the primary timeline. The existence of the secondary timeline was itself an anomaly. It wouldn’t have existed, unless someone at some point had traveled back in time here. It could have been anyone - perhaps a research team on a field trip, a corporation in need of resources from the past. But not a biot. A biot with a human brain meant only one thing: another Sunguard Special Agent. Biots modeled on humans existed solely within their ranks; the only other use for artificial life was for biotic pets - and this biot was certainly no pet. The electromagnetic field Paul had sensed emanated a sharp intelligence, one that indeed bore all the hallmarks of a Special Agent. There were no signs of telepathy in the other brain, though. Whatever year it originated from, it must have come from a time before Special Agents were designed with telepathic centers.
He flicked on the comm center of his brain, sending a broadband radio signal encrypted with a key hardwired into all biotic Special Agents, past or future.
“This is Sunguard Special Agent Paul Williams, operating on a training exercise from 2347. Unknown Special Agent, please identify yourself.”
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May 27, 2308, Newtown, Gloria, Procyon 4
23:05
Cautiously, she leaned forward, peering through the narrow gap above the elevated platform where she crouched. Below, she could clearly see them - dark figures moving in the low light, loading a pallet stacked with their dangerous, lethal products. Well, their operation wouldn't last much longer.
Carefully, she began to unfasten her hand gaser from its holster on her belt, taking care not to make the slightest sound. A quick press around the grip activated the weapon. In less than a microsecond, she felt the subtle signal shoot through her arm nerves, confirming that the deadly device was ready to fire.
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A click behind her left ear drew her attention. A man was standing there, but before she had time to move, a thick, muscular arm was thrown around her head, twisting it violently so she was staring into the man’s cold eyes. Her neck throbbed with pain as he forced her head into a position that it was never meant to be in. She dropped her gaser. The man picked it up.
THUD!
Cold, hard steel struck her left cheek. His hard hand around her neck pressed bony knuckles into her flesh. Pain began to spread through her head.
THUMP!
He hit her other cheek. The muscles in it couldn't handle the pressure. Blood slowly began to drip down her face, soiling her ginger-copper-red hair.
More blows, on both cheeks, in the face. The man behind her held her pressed against the wall, towering above her. His laugh was cold, insensitive, as if he was tormenting an animal, and enjoying it. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed two other men standing behind them, as if they didn't trust the first man to handle her by himself.
She heard the sound of cartilage being crushed. A freezing pain pierced the nasal bone as the remains of her nose were mashed across her face by another blow.
Black. Pain that turned the world black. Her left field of vision became a mess of red and black as her eyeball burst from the pressure of another blow. How long would he continue to abuse her? How long would she last?
Eventually, her brain couldn't take it anymore, and she fell into the deep well of unconsciousness.
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May 27, 2308, Newtown, Gloria, Procyon 4
23:17
“What did you just do?”
Neil McCarter’s face twisted in fury. They had been on the verge of launching their largest operation yet - millions of dollars’ worth of product, neatly packed in twenty-four metal crates. Each crate held rows of small, white vials, all containing pure, concentrated joy. Well, joy, but only for a short while, at least. He shrugged. He’d never touch the stuff himself. Death by addiction could be cruel, indeed.
And now, those idiots he’d hired for protection had managed to disable a Sunguard Special Agent. Granted, that in itself was a rather impressive feat, but apparently Smythe had somehow managed to catch her off guard, and with his propensity for violence... well, let's just say, if there was anyone McCarter knew who could take down a Special Agent, it was Smythe. He had clearly used excessive force - unsurprising, given his nature - but that was the only way to incapacitate a Sunguard Special Agent.
Incapacitate - that was the operative word. She wasn’t dead, and McCarter knew better than to believe she ever could be. Killing a Sunguard Special Agent was practically impossible. If even a single cell of her biotic body survived, that cell would eventually divide and regrow her body. When she was old enough, she’d make contact with the Sunguard Memory Repository, restore her memories from there, and they’d all be back where they had started. Sure, it might take years, but eventually she’d be there again, hunting him down, relentless in the way only a Sunguard Special Agent could be. She would never let him get away with what he’d done. Never. Staring down an inevitable future where a Sunguard Special Agent would eventually knock on his door was not a thought Neil McCarter liked to entertain.
“What were you thinking?” McCarter nearly spat the words at Smythe. “You know we’re all dead, right? One day, she’ll come back, and then we’ll be finished. Or stuck in some Sunguard dungeon for the rest of our miserable lives.”
Smythe wasn’t happy about being chewed out, especially when he felt he had done exactly what was necessary.
“What did you want me to do? Just stand by and let her waltz in here and politely ask us to surrender?”
McCarter glared at him. Smythe wasn’t wrong, and that was the most irritating part. Smythe had done what needed to be done, but that didn’t mean McCarter had to acknowledge it.
“You’re an idiot, Smythe,” McCarter muttered. “We need to solve this.”
“Alright,” Smythe said slowly, as he began to ponder the problem. “We can’t kill her, because we’ll never be able to destroy her entire body. So we just have to make sure she can’t restore her memory backup. If she doesn’t remember us, she can’t find us again.”
McCarter raised an eyebrow. “And how do you propose we manage that? Wave some incense around and chant magic words? You can’t disrupt her connection to the Sunguard. The data stream is sent through a microscopic hyperspace opening inside her brain. You can’t block that stream because it doesn’t even travel through space. You can’t jam it.”
“I know, I know”, he muttered. Smythe creased his brow, thinking again. After a while, he said carefully, “The Stringer brothers have a ship here. Hyperspace capable. We could dump her a hundred lightyears from Solaris. The Sunguard would never be able to track her down.”
McCarter watched Smythe carefully, as the faint glimmer of an idea began to take shape in his mind. Maybe thinking wasn’t Smythe’s strongest suit, but he was onto something.
“Why would you ever think that could work? Like I said, she’ll connect to the Sunguard through hyperspace. It won’t matter if it’s five kilometers or five hundred lightyears.”
But there was the beginning of an idea there, stirring in the deep recesses of his mind.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” McCarter continued. We’ll destroy her as best we can, and then dump her remains in the past. There won’t be a Memory Repository back there, and she won’t be able to restore her backup. She’ll eventually heal and regrow, yeah, but she’ll be a blank slate. No memories, no recollection of us or what happened. She won’t be able to come after us.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, and Smythe and his team soon got to work implementing it. McCarter chose not to watch. It wasn’t that it turned his stomach; he just didn’t have any interest in watching a human body go through a meat grinder. He’d get to see the result soon enough, anyway.
And that result consisted of a sealed barrel of silicon/titanium mince, which was bright blue, about 80 cm high and 50 cm in diameter. Smythe’s guys grunted as they worked together to push it into the back of the Hellbender’s cargo bay. Once the barrel was secured in place, McCarter followed them on board. This part he had to see for himself - mostly because he didn’t quite trust Smythe to get the job done properly.
The Hellbender’s field generator spun to life, beginning to bend the local gravity field. The small ship lifted into the atmosphere without any sensation of acceleration. Once they were far enough from Gloria to allow for a hyperspace jump without too many complications from nearby gravity fields, the field generator was programmed with its destination, and the jump was initiated. A perfectly spherical region of space around the field generator was instantly ripped from its current coordinates and transferred to another place and time.