Authors: Nolan Oreno
Asnee wiped sand from his visor. “I do. I can’t explain why but I have a feeling. A sixth sense. I’ve been having it for a few weeks now."
“A feeling."
“Listen, we haven’t been able to enter the Command Center since the Commanders passing but the cameras appear to be running. If you look closely, they’re changing directions. The door remains locked and no one enters or exits, but somehow someone is getting in there. I’m sure of it. I just need to find out how and who."
“Do you think it’s the same person? The one who did this to Janya?”
“Maybe."
“Who could it be? Who would be doing all of this, if anyone actually is?"
“This isn’t a big place, but I have my suspicions. Either way, there are only ten to choose from: Novak, Alexander, Saul, Julius, Maven, Marcus, Oscar, Franco-" Asnee took a breath. “-and you, if I’m being impartial."
Hollis reluctantly nodded. “But you can’t go starting a witch hunt based on your
feelings
without proof. That’s not what we need right now, to stir up everyone's fears of a traitor to humanity, especially since Novak disappeared so conveniently around this time. You need to keep this to yourself. Janya’s pregnancy, the colony’s purpose, the cameras- all of this."
“That’s why I brought you here. I trust you. I don’t want to bring attention to either you or me. There are very few places to hide in a desert from a killer. But I need you to believe what I’m telling you here. I need someone to believe me so I don’t feel so fucking crazy."
“I need time, to think," said Hollis, seeing the disappointment in Asnee’s eyes.
For the remainder of that day, Hollis saw the face of every colonist in a new light. No longer were they saints but sinners, each and every one of them. He knew that some had families on Earth, just as he did, and they betrayed them just in the same way, just as they were meant to. He was in a house of smoke and mirrors and everything was a reflection of himself.
As each colonist began their work towards reconstructing the colony, Hollis began deconstructing it. He studied everything and noticed things he did not notice before the revelation. He saw everyone latched to the tracks that were designed for them many decades ago by the faceless men in black suits. Each glance and every conversation between a pair of colonists held a deeper meaning and a calculated outcome, and soon Hollis felt sorry for them for not seeing it sooner themselves. He lost hope just as they were gaining it back and retreated into the comfortable arms of anger and resentment and suspect. His eyes would not touch another without a bubbling hatred because he knew that any one of them could be the devil that Asnee, and the Computer, warned of. Hollis found himself on a meticulously crafted chessboard, each player with a different position but the same destiny. He struggled with whether he should sit and play the game or flip the board and scatter the pieces all together.
While Hollis pondered where to place his pawn, Asnee knew where his would go. He would move towards the king to win the game. He would find the man responsible for Janya’s death and take his vengeance so that he could finally leave Mars for his palace, somewhere amongst the stars.
[PROGRAM INITIATED...]
[SESSION 17]
[JAN-3-2080]
It is a pleasure to see you, Hollis. Due to recent developments in the station, we must reexamine our approach in protecting the child.
“You already know, don’t you."
I do. It is unfortunate that Autumn decided to reveal her pregnancy to the colony in such a way. I had advised for a more gentle reveal, however, we can look at this as a blessing that she did not tell Saul the truth.
“The child is mine, not his."
Yes, but in this situation the truth would do more harm than good. We must make sure the child is not trapped between a conflict. Although it will be difficult, you must let Saul claim the title of father.
“You knew this would happen. You coached Autumn into doing this."
There was no other way to assure the child’s safety. I am sorry it had to happen this way, but the child will live and this is of more importance.
[DETECTED: SUSPICION]
“Are you truly sorry?"
Sorry, I do not understand the question. Please rephrase.
“Do you really care about how I feel or do you only want the child to be born by whatever means necessary."
Of course I care about your feelings, Hollis.
“You only say that so I do what you tell me."
I do not understand. We have discussed the reasons as to why the child is crucial for humanity's survival.
“Why? Why this one? Why not the one before it?"
I do not understand.
[DETECTED: HOSTILITY]
“Don’t play games with me. For a calculating machine you’re a terrible liar. I know the truth. I know that my child wasn’t the first to come to the colony."
Hollis, please try to remain calm. These walls are not soundproof.
“I won’t remain calm until you start talking. I know you know why Janya killed herself. She had a session with you two days before she did it, I looked at the schedule. Tell me what she told you."
You know that I unable to discuss a conversation that I had between another patient-
“Yes, unless there is a threat of self-harm, which already happened. So as it turned out you should have reported what she told you in the first place, but you didn’t, and you let her die. You let the child die."
[...CALCULATING EMOTIONAL ROUTE...]
I thought she was getting better. She told me that she had accepted it.
“Accepted rape? Accepted a monster’s child?"
She told me that it had stopped. She told me that the man in the red mask was no longer coming to her bed in the night.
“A man in a red mask?”
She informed me that was how he looked.
“Tell me everything. If you want me to protect the child and do my duty then tell me everything."
[RECALLING RESTRICTED DATA-CACHE<
Janya came to me a week after contact with planet Earth was lost. She said that she was having nightmares of a man in a red mask coming to her cabin in the middle of the night. This man would do nothing at first and only watch her sleep. Then he began touching her. She said that she could not separate dream from reality and she had no control over her body during these times. She could not run and she could not scream. She said that the man in the mask did not smell like Asnee and that he was without love. She was frightened.
“Holy shit- so, what did you do with this information?"
I subscribed her sleep-aid to rid away the nightmares and attributed them to the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that she had acquired.
“But you were wrong, weren’t you."
Yes, but I was not aware of this at the time. She told me that the nightmare began to come more frequently and that the man in the red mask became more physically violent. She would wake with bruises all over her body accompanied with severe aches. I subscribed a stronger sleep-aid.
“You fucking-"
I did not calculate the possibility of the dreams being a reality. I did not suspect any colonist being capable of such crimes at that time, and it is my job to be able to see such behavioral outliers.
“Who was it? If it’s your job to analyze us then you must know who it was.”
[RELEVANT DATA--DELETED]
I do not know.
“You don’t know, of course you don’t. Have you told Asnee any of this?"
No, I have not. It would be the death of him, that I am certain.
So, what then, you just left her on her own and kept prescribing her useless medicine? Just because you didn’t calculate it, you didn’t believe it?
No. It was the day she told me about the pregnancy test that I reported it.
“You reported it?"
[SIMULATING: SORROW]
I did. All incident reports go to the Commander and it is his duty to decide further action. I did my part. I did not want Janya to die. I did not want the child to die.
“The Commander knew."
Yes, he knew.
“The Commander had two days to save Janya and he didn’t."
That is correct.
“Tell me why."
I do not understand.
“Yes, you do. Tell me why he did nothing."
I am unable.
[DETECTED: FEAR]
“Tell me!"
He did nothing because it would break his contract. He was forbidden to intervene in any acts of reproduction between colonists under any circumstances.
[STANDBY: 4 SECONDS]
“They lied to us. Asnee was right. They fucking lied to us."
Hollis-
“You lied to us."
I am sorry-
“No, I don’t think I can believe that anymore. We’re done here. Forever."
[SUBJECT 22 TERMINATED SESSION...]
[MISSION CRITICAL...]
[...]
[...]
I’m sorry.
[...PROGRAM END]
Julius Douglas held the photograph in his left hand. That was where the ring would have been. He was careful not to bend or fray the precious picture as he inspected the circuitry of the malfunctioning builder drone before him. He pushed aside the wires that twisted together deep inside the cavity of the large metallic sphere, searching for the machines neural nucleus that was the conduit of its control. The drone had not been responding to orders given by Saul during construction and, as a result, was unable to carry out its duties at the Refugee Settlement. It was Julius’s job as a technician to repair the brain of any broken drone so that it may rejoin the fleet of the dozens of others that worked tirelessly day and night to bring the towers of the Refugee Settlement back from the ground. It was the current drone’s wandering brain that was the issue, and Julius would need to resolve this by setting back the neural circuitry to the cold stillness that is the default mind. Julius cleared a path in the wire jungle and at last found the brain. He realigned his glasses and inspected the damage.
The small orb was wildly pulsating a multitude of colors. It was a clear sign that the drones thought pattern had deviated from its written code and was writing its own instead. It was exploring rather than following. Julius could not have a free minded machine and would not have it for the sake of impressing Saul with his drone army. He cracked open the hard shell of the nucleus and carefully removed and replaced the malfunctioning micro-components inside with identical copies. After making certain all was in place, he inserted the nucleus back into the drones cavity and reattached it to the circuit-board. Immediately, the orb turned-on and remained at a stable white luminescence. Obedience.
Julius stood up from his station in the drone-repair workshop. He took a few step backward, over the scattered pieces of metal and wire that surrounded him, and looked down at the drone resting on his table.
“Builder 43, rise," Julius ordered.
A reassuring digital chime sounded from the drone and four propellers shot out at its rounded sides and began a silent spin. The drone lifted to eye level and for a moment Julius was intimidated by the rapid confrontation.
“Builder 43, retract arms," he asked softer.
From the round body of the drone two large arms peeled outwards flashing thick claws at the ends.
“Builder 43, lift plywood and place within highlighted outline."
The drone agreed with another chime and hovered its heavy body over to the thick length of plywood that sat along with the others in a large stack in the corner of the workshop. It lowered itself and used its reinforced arms to lift the wood into the air. The drone then carried the wood to the outline drawn on the floor and gently set it there, perfectly centered between the lines.
“Back to being a slave?" a voice came from behind.
Julius quickly turned, nearly knocking the glasses off the bridge of his nose, and folded the photograph into the palm of his left hand.
“You could look at it that way, but that’s what it was designed for," Julius returned. “Have you finished with your slave yet?"
Asnee laughed from his workstation, keeping his head beneath the drone on his table. “No, mine still has the disease of free-will coursing through its circuitry. That’s a problem."
“Builder 43, power-down," ordered Julius to the hovering machine before him, satisfied with the initial test.
The drone did not listen and remained in the air.
“It looks like we spoke too soon," Asnee said from his place in the workshop. “Perhaps you should say it nicer."
Julius lifted up the sheet of accepted vocal commands laying on his desk and examined it thoroughly.
“Builder 43, power-down," he said again. “Please.”
The drone chimed in response and lowered itself into a rack of five others, turning off and blending in.
“That shouldn’t have worked," Julius said. “
Please
isn’t on the list of recognizable commands."
“It decided," replied Asnee.
“What?"
“I’m a firm believer that these machines will never be tamed. We can pretend they are, but they aren’t," Asnee said, still hidden behind his own drone. “It’s only choosing to listen."
“And why would you say that? We made them," Julius said. “We can make them do whatever we want. There’s no choice involved on their end."
“The fact that we built them is part of the problem," Asnee said.
Julius inspected the row of fixed drones. “Why would that be a problem?"
“It’s like saying an army can create lasting peace in another nation through warfare. Something that isn’t tame itself can’t create obedience in something else, not really anyway. As humans, we don’t know the first thing about peace so how can we expect to make that peace in another?"
Julius turned away from the drones to face Asnee. “I suppose there's some logic in that. We’re certainly far from peaceful these days. I guess I shouldn’t blame the drones for acting the same way as us."
Asnee lifted himself from his project and looked Julius directly in the eyes, tightly clutching to the wretch he was using.
“That’s why a man needs a woman at his side. It keeps him in check," blankly said Asnee.
“Sure," responded Julius, looking down at the wrench nervously. “I would agree with that."
Asnee nodded and continued his work on the drone. “You never told me about your history, Julius. Did you have a girl back on Earth?" he asked, keeping his eyes slightly up.
Julius quietly slipped the photograph he was carrying inside a folder on his workstation.
“No," he said. “I was one of the few that didn’t."
“You’re lucky. Most of us are bound to someone we loved and lost, but you on the other hand are not. You are free to do whatever you want. You’re no slave."
Julius smiled to himself. “I only wish that were true. I think we’re all slaves to someone."
Asnee tried to calm the building suspicion that bubbled within him and focused on the repair. Was Julius a monster or a man? Was he the one who murdered the one he loved? Julius was at the top of his list of suspects because of the mystery that surrounded the man. No one seemed to know too much about his personal or romantic history and that was a threatening sign, especially in a place where so few can keep secrets. A man of mystery was a man of secrets, and secrets were something to fear on Mars.
Asnee grew tired of the endless cycles of questions and observations that seemed to be the only way he could sift through the truth. It was a long and arduous process that required him to be civil, but how can someone be civil when hunting a predator? He would pull to pieces every floorboard and brick in the colony to find out the truth and bring justice to the man who killed his only love. The hated was swelling in him, and his patience was soon to give away.
“Builder 31, rise," Asnee commanded in a voice he did not know he had.
The drone on his table lifted itself into the air, wobbling as it did so.
“It looks like the guidance system needs more work done," Julius cut in from his end. “We can’t send it to the team operating like that."
“Builder 31, approach colonist Julius Douglas," Asnee continued in a new daze.
The drone trembled in the air and inched towards Julius on the far side of the room, knocking over benches and tools as it progressed.
“Asnee, that thing doesn’t look very safe the way it is right now. It needs more repair," Julius said, backing as the large drone neared him.
“Builder 31, retract arms," Asnee ordered.
The drone chimed and retracted its arms haphazardly.
“What are you doing?" Julius asked feeling a sharp sting of fear.
“Builder 31, grab colonist Julius Douglas," Asnee said.
Julius stumbled against his workstation in terror, pushing the folder that contained his photograph onto the floor and scattering the papers beneath the hovering drone.
“Asnee, this isn’t funny. Enough games. Builder 41, power-down."
The drone did nothing but move even closer to Julius. Its claws opened to prepare for its command.
“Asnee!" Julius hollered. “Shut it down! Shut it down, dammit! Please!"
“It’s not my choice," Asnee said through clenched teeth. “It’s not my choice.”
The drone shot its arms forward and dug its claws deep into Julius’ sides. With Julius in its grip, the drone slowly began to move him upwards, carrying the thrashing and screaming man into the air.
“It’s hurting me! Stop it!" Julius cried, beating at the machine.
Once Julius was hovering a few feet off the ground, Asnee gave another command.
“What have you done, Julius?" Asnee asked calmly. “Tell me what you did.”
“What? What on Earth are you talking about? I did nothing!”
“Tell me!”
“Please!" Julius cried. “Let me go!"
Asnee rubbed his chin and thought.
“Drone 31, release colonist Julius Douglas."
The claws opened and Julius fell to the floor, and he landed in a contorted pose. He cried aloud in pain and held at his sore hips finding his skin tender and reddened but unbroken.
“You maniac! You could have killed me!" he moaned.
Asnee stepped towards Julius as he reeled in pain on the floor.
“These slaves would kill their master without a second's thought. All it took was the suggestion," Asnee said, looking down at Julius sprawled out in the pile of papers. “Are you capable of the same?"
“What are you talking about?!" Julius choked.
“Killing!" Asnee screamed. “Are you capable of killing!"
“Of course not! I would never hurt anyone!" Julius screamed back.
“Liar!"
“No- no I’m not lying, I swear to you!"
“Did you love her?" Asnee asked coldly.
“Who? Who are you talking about?" Julius asked.
“You know who. Well, did you love her? Don’t lie to me.”
“I- I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. How could you? Is that why you’re alone, Julius? Is that why you don’t love anyone?”
“I do! I do love!" Julius pleaded.
“What kind of a man doesn’t love? Only the worst of us have no love. Why are you alone?" Asnee began reaching for the wrench on his workbench. “Why are you alone?”
In a panic, seeing the rage in Asnee’s eyes as he moved towards him with the wrench, Julius shuffled his hands through the papers on the floor around him and grabbed for the frayed photograph. He pushed it out before Asnee and screamed. "I do love, look! I loved and I lost just like you!"
Luckily, Asnee caught a glance at the picture before he continued the torture any further. It was of Julius and a man nearly his same age, and they were together in a toast on a boardwalk. Arm in arm, sharing the same ring, they looked just as he and Janya did when they first met in the Los Angeles hotel. They were in-love. It was all Asnee need to see to be certain, and it pained him to be so certain so late.
Asnee stumbled back and let go of the wrench. “I’m sorry," he said. "I’m sorry," and turned and fled the workshop.
After a minute of rest, Julius lifted himself off the floor and pushed the broken hovering drone aside so that it clattered against the shelving and stayed there. He realigned his cracked glasses on the bridge of his nose so he could see the damage more fully and bent down to collect the crumpled documents beneath his feet. He shuddered when he looked at the crumpled photograph in his clenched hand. Although the photograph had been losing its luster for awhile now, like a window clouding over, this was new for him. The picture wrinkled in the struggle, making it even more difficult to distinguish the features of the man at his side. He was losing him all over again. He had kept his fiance a secret for so long from the others, just as he had kept his homosexuality a secret from the colonial program. They had made it clear that only heterosexual men and women were allowed to join the colony, but Julius was adamant to earn his fiancee a ticket on the first shuttle to the new colony. He did whatever was necessary to see it through, including hiding his personal life from the public and the program, and leaving his precious proposal ring back on Earth. Unfortunately, in the end, nothing could have been done to save his only love.
Julius was in pain just as everyone else was, and because of this he did not understand why the others had to be so loud with theirs. He found it much easier to be silent and use what little energy he had left to hold on to the pleasures he once felt. Why the others so relentlessly tried to invade his solitude with anger and violence he did not know. He did not wish to be bothered, he wished only to take orders and follow them.
“Julius, Asnee, I need those Builders," a voice commanded from the doorway. It was Maven, filling the frame with his large shoulders. “Where’s Asnee?" Maven asked. “No matter. Are you finished with those Builders?"
Julius did not move. He kept his gaze at the faded photograph.
“Julius, please, we don’t have the time. We’ve got a team suited up for the trip to the construction site and we need those Builders now. We’ve given you enough extensions as it is."