Katy screamed and stepped back behind Jolo.
The synthetic life form named George looked confused. He stared at the people, assessing their reaction. And then he turned to Marco. "Mr. Marco, was that not humorous?"
"Yeah, it was funny," said Marco. "Just gotta wait until the crowd warms up to you."
"Thank you for the critique, Mr. Marco," said George. “I’ll add that new variable into the mix.”
Jolo took a deep breath. There was still the issue of him being dead and all hanging out there. "I'm no synth," said Jolo, eyeing Koba angrily.
"But you are not human, either," said Koba.
And then Marco spoke up. "Jolo, I don’t care what a scan says. You are my son. I know it’s you. All of the things that you did before, all of the things that you can't remember, are still inside of you. And you’re still doing it. The people you saved on Qualus. That's exactly what Jolo would have done. And it's because you are Jolo."
And then George spoke up. "Captain Vargas, may I scan you? My scanners are far superior to the Federation junk."
Marco looked at Jolo and nodded.
"Okay," said Jolo.
George stood in front of Jolo and waved his hands in front of his face, then in front of his body down to his feet. And then he stood up, still as a statue with his head slightly tilted for a full minute.
"Well?" said Marco, finally.
"He’s mostly biological, with some synthetic parts, and more," said George. "Though he is not completely the man you knew as Jolo, your son."
"That doesn't make sense. Who am I?" yelled Jolo.
"You are you," said George.
"Why does the ship say that I am dead?" said Jolo.
"Because Jolo Vargas is dead," said George. And then he tilted his head again. "Yet some of him remains, in you."
"So I'm some of Jolo? It doesn't make sense."
"How much?" said Marco.
"52.87% matches the DNA structure of Jolo Vargas. The rest is purely biological, yet not quite human. And there's something else." At this point Jolo started to back away from the rest of the group. He felt the need to run, to escape. It was too much. And then George continued, "he has a chip in his brain. The work is fantastic. I've never scanned anything quite like it." And George looked at Jolo with admiration.
Jolo started running. He ran straight to the edge of the bay and Katy screamed. But Jolo stopped and looked down. He felt the wind on his face and he saw a bird gliding down above the stream at the bottom of the ravine.
Then he turned and ran back into the house.
……
Marco and Katy came to see Jolo in the atrium a few hours later. Katy picked a few red tomatoes, handed one to Jolo. It was red and smooth and beautiful.
“So did the Fed know?” asked Jolo.
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Marco. “They knew you weren’t a full-on synth, that’s for sure. But were willing to send you away because they were afraid.”
“Oh what?” said Katy.
“Of stirring up the military. Of making people realize that the BG aren’t our friends. Jolo Vargas is a liability to the Federation that wants peace with the BG devils. If the people knew you were alive there might be trouble. There are enough of us who don’t like what the President has done—this alliance with the BG, this false peace that we now have might be broken.”
“That’s what Barthelme said,” said Jolo. “There was more going on than everyone suspected.”
“He’s right,” said Marco. “You don’t need to look further than Duval. Why has alacyte production ramped up? They got transports working 24/7. What do you do with alacyte?”
“You build ships,” said Katy.
“And weapons,” said Marco. “And the Fed is happy to let them with no questions asked.”
“I am not Jolo. Just tell them,” said Jolo. “Tell them to go away. Jolo is dead and I’m just some… I don’t know what I am.”
“I don’t care what you believe, but I know you are my son. You are Jolo. And if some scan says otherwise, I don’t care. The words out of your mouth are Jolo. The things you do are Jolo. And it doesn’t matter whether you believe it or not, the Federation and the BG want you dead.”
Just then Koba ran in. “I fixed it! The Jessica will accept commands from you now, Jolo.” Koba bowed deeply. “I’m sorry about before.”
“Thanks,” said Jolo. “We’ll test it in the morning.”
But the next morning Marco showed up in the repair bay and the Jessica was gone and with it Jolo.
Jamis
Bakanhe Grana Homeworlds
Warumon 5, Humanoid Synthesis and Production Facility
The two wet, soft Vellosians were of no use in any kind of fight. And the BG warlords, whose every step—alacyte tri-foot on steel grate: a metallic, unnatural sound that made Jamis’ head ache—viewed them with indifference and contempt. The guards “accidentally” prodded the two green creatures every chance they could. And then, especially the rank and file warriors, would make wheezing snorts that passed as laughter.
Jamis could see Merthon’s hate for the shiny alacyte-encased worms boiling over, and Jamis feared he would do something rash. More rash than recombining the remains of a Federation war hero and sending the result off into Fed space in an antique escape pod.
It had been a fool’s errand and the only good to come of it was to soothe the mind of his deluded, genius friend—to give him some shred of hope to cling to. But the sad truth was that they were going to die right here, and soon. The last of the Vellosians, the greatest creators the universe had known, would die at the hands of the worms.
But Jamis would
