27
Craig sat in a wicker chair by the fire in the smoking room, a tray of cookies sitting next to him as he finished spooning the last of his baked apples into his mouth. The three Purists sat with him, forming a semicircle. Paine faced the fire directly, while Craig’s left side was illuminated by the warming glow. He’d retrieved his jacket, and it was now laid out on the floor, drying quickly next to the flames.
“More tea, sir?” asked an attendant, who politely waited on the strange quartet. Craig nodded enthusiastically and held his cup up for the man to refill. Paine stared at the man and wondered what he must have thought. The whole scenario was surreal for everyone involved, yet there was a strange acceptance. The ship had crashed, and bizarrely clad soldiers had suddenly appeared, yet life, somehow, went on. Craig, who had the right to claim he was the most out-of-place person in the room—a man out of time twice over—seemed the least disturbed by the current circumstances as he devoured his sweets.
“More tea, sir?” the attendant asked Paine.
Paine looked up at him with his cybernetic eyes, which, along with the crosshatch of stretch marks and scars, caused the attendant to recoil slightly. “No thank you,” Paine said as he attempted to force a slight smile for the sake of manners. The attendant nodded and moved on to Drummey and Degrechie.
Craig dipped a chocolate cookie in his tea and then took a large bite, chewing enthusiastically. “The cookies of the past were much better,” he noted in the brief moment between swallowing and taking his next bite. He pointed to the tray to offer one to Paine.
Paine waved it away. “Thanks, Doc. Ate before I came. You, on the other hand, look like you haven’t eaten in fourteen years.”
Craig shook his head. “Nah. I fell in the water. Long story, but I need to get my glucose levels back up.”
“Ah,” Paine nodded. “Smart.” Paine turned his head and watched as the attendant left the room. “So, you were explaining how you came to be here.”
“Yes. It’s going to sound crazy, though.”
“What doesn’t these days? Try me.”
“Well, like I said, to me, it was just yesterday that I was doing my SOLO jump over Shenzhen. The next thing I knew, I was waking up and my wife was holding my hand. Then she told me fourteen years had past while I’d been in suspended animation.”
“Heh,” Paine responded, nodding. “That explains it. Your body was preserved in one of those S.A. body bags. Little did we know when we returned what was left of you to her that she was going to try to put Humpty Dumpty back together.”
“Well, apparently she managed. The technology they have in their facility is off the charts, Colonel. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Craig paused for a moment as he gestured toward the cybernetic prostheses that the super soldiers sported. “Well, not until now anyway.”
“Doc, I hate to bring it up. But did your wife make you aware of her current marital status?” Paine asked.
Craig’s mouth turned down at the mention of his wife. He nodded. “Yeah. She told me.”
Paine sat back in his chair and shook his head as he watched the crackling fire. “That’s cold, man. You have my sympathies.”
“Thanks, Colonel,” Craig replied. He was about to say something else, but words failed him. There was really nothing that could be said on a subject that was still so tender. He shook his head and took another bite of his cookie.
“So how did you end up here?” Paine inquired further.
“When you arrived at the facility, Aldous Gibson hatched a plan to send my wife and I through the Planck machine with the A.I. in an attempt to evade you. They were convinced that your intention was to kill everyone in the facility and destroy the A.I. I agreed to go through the Planck to protect my wife, but at the last moment, she knocked me out and sent me through the machine alone.”
“So, are you telling me you’re not here willingly?” Paine asked.
“No,” Craig replied. “I want to go back home as soon as possible, sir.”
“I figured as much,” Paine replied. He turned to Drummey and Degrechie. “You see? He’s a good soldier.”
“Were you able to convince Aldous to tell you where we were?” Craig asked.
“No. Aldous Gibson is currently a fugitive from justice.”
Craig was momentarily in disbelief. “And Samantha as well?”
“No. We were able to capture her,” Paine said, trying to keep his face stone still.
“You mean,” Craig said, astounded, “he
“Affirmative,” Paine answered before taking a sip of his tea.
“Goddamn. I knew he was a coward.”
Paine grinned. “You and I are on the same page on that one, Doc.”
“So, was Samantha the one that told you where the A.I. was?”
“No,” Paine replied. “She was…uncooperative. A Professor Sanha Cho was able to fill us in. He set the Planck machine so that we could attempt to apprehend the A.I. Heh. He told us it would probably be carried by a robot. I certainly wasn’t expecting to see
Craig nodded. “I’m sorry about Sam, Colonel. It’s like she’s been brainwashed.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t—it was like I was talking to a different person.”
Paine shifted in his chair. “It’s not my place to say, Doc, but from what I remember, she had a disloyalty streak fourteen years ago too.”
Craig’s neck snapped upward, and his eyes met Paine’s. As hurtful as it was to hear someone denigrate his wife, he had to admit that there was some truth to what Paine said. “If you don’t mind, sir, when we get back, I’d like to spend some time with her.”
Paine kept his face perfectly still as Craig continued to speak.
“I think I could convince her to see things in a different light. It might take a while, but eventually, I think she could see reason. I’d like to try anyway, sir.”
Paine’s face remained frozen for a second longer than it should have before he finally forced a smile. “Sure. You do that. Do whatever you think is right.”
“Craig,” the A.I. suddenly interjected, “I’m registering an 85 percent chance that he’s lying to you.”
Craig heard the A.I. but tried not to react.
“So, sir, were you able to apprehend most of the post-humans in the facility? Were there any casualties?”
“None. It was pretty textbook. We’ve got a few that managed to get through our perimeter, but we’ll pick ‘em up in the next day or so.”
“94 percent chance that was a lie,” the A.I. informed, “and I’m certain that if I could measure his pupil dilation, the percentage would go up. He’s lying to you.”
“So,” Paine began, quickly changing the subject, “is the A.I. on your person? Did they give you a hard drive or something?”
“That’s the thing,” Craig replied, “there’s no hard drive. They injected it into me.”
“What do you mean?” Paine asked, his head cocking to the side.
“They uploaded it into nanobots—they call them nans—and it attached itself to my brain. I’m in communication with it as we speak.”
“Ho-ly hell. Isn’t that something?” Paine turned to his right and nodded to Drummey, who had his neutralizer sitting in his lap. Drummey pulled the trigger, and a blast of rotating frequencies hit Craig, knocking the teacup out of his hand and spilling it to the ground.
He groaned. “What the hell was that?” he asked as his mind’s eye fluttered in and out before finally stabilizing.
“They’ve temporarily disabled your MTF generator,” the A.I. replied.
“Sorry, Doc,” Paine casually said. “I trust you.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “It’s what’s in there
