Authors: David Clarkson
The colonel was getting nervous. It was
forty eight hours since the team in Tibet had missed their last scheduled
window for contact.
‘Do we at least have a fix on their
location?’ he asked.
‘That’s a negative, sir,’ replied the
communications officer. ‘Their transponder stopped broadcasting approximately
twenty four hours ago.’
‘What does that mean exactly?’
‘It could be any number of things. Maybe
it was destroyed or it could just be that the mountains are blocking the
signal. The team was instructed to search for tunnels, which were used during
the Chinese invasion. If they went deep enough, it would explain the blackout.’
‘And what is the worst case scenario?’
The officer looked up from his console.
He did not need to provide an answer. His anxious expression communicated
everything that needed to be said.
‘Very well,’ said the colonel. ‘I’ll give
what we have to Washington, which isn’t a lot. What happens from here on in is
out of my hands.’
When he got back to his office, he made
the call to James Earl in Washington. It did not take long for the conversation
to start following the path he most feared.
‘How long before you can mobilise a
second team?’ asked Earl.
‘We could feasibly have them at the drop
point within a matter of hours, but I strongly advise against it. Both of our
major assets were committed to the first team. Without Dr Rayne or the Johnson kid,
we’d need a lot more bodies on the ground to locate and infiltrate the Chinese
base. It’s just too risky.’
‘I agree. The President is keen to avoid
turning this into a major diplomatic incident. We cannot allow any US personnel
to be caught inside Chinese borders. By using an unmanned and unmarked drone,
we will have much more plausible deniability.’
Plausible deniability? This was exactly
why he hated dealing with politicians. This guy did not give a shit about the
people in uniform. They were just expendable grunts to men like Earl.
‘I don’t think we should be too hasty,
sir,’ said the colonel. ‘For all we know, our men are still in there. It may be
worth giving Cruz and his team a little more time.’
‘As I recall, Colonel, you were
previously apprehensive about involving Cruz. Are you now saying that you trust
him?’
‘What I’m saying is that we have little
choice in the matter. You insisted on him being assigned to the mission, sir,
so surely you can at least now afford him the time he needs to complete it.’
The line went quiet for a moment.
‘Okay,’ said Earl. ‘I’ll give our man
another twenty four hours. After that, I’m taking no more chances.’ He paused
for a moment, before adding; ‘what about the primary mission – have you made
any more headway on Operation Sleepwalker?’
‘There have been...developments,’ replied
the colonel.
‘You don’t sound too sure. There isn’t a
problem, I hope.’
The colonel took a deep breath before
answering.
‘We’ve made some observations. If they
are confirmed, it could be a game changer. We are talking about things that
blur the line between life and death.’
‘Send me what you have. In the meantime,
you better hope our boy, Cruz, comes good. Each second that passes while the
Chinese have astral capability leaves us vulnerable. One way or another, that
threat will be neutralised. Do you understand, Colonel Rodman?’
‘Yes, sir. Loud and clear.’
The tulpa sat in the dining hall
surrounded by a small gathering of monks. They absolutely adored it. Each one
of them fawned over it at every given opportunity. Esteban thought this may
have been for what it represented to them. It was, in effect, an embodiment of
their spirituality. A myth once taken on faith had been made real.
There was, however, still something about
it that troubled the soldier. Once Emmy had stopped trying to consciously
channel her thoughts, the tulpa had taken on a different personality entirely.
It now possessed an impossible to resist naiveté that was both easygoing and
hopeful. He wondered if this was an accurate representation of the real Lucy
Skye or merely an idealised fiction projected through the soft lens of a
lover’s eyes.
‘I’m going to get some rest,’ said Jimmy,
who, like Esteban, had been keeping his distance from the unnatural being. They
both loitered in a different part of the hall where they could watch from afar,
negating the possibility of interaction. ‘I see no immediate danger, so you
won’t need me for a while.’
‘I’m going to wait up,’ replied Esteban.
‘I want to check on Emmy. She hides it well, but I can tell this is all
impacting heavily on her. I’ve noticed a definite change in her since that
thing appeared.’
Jimmy sensed Esteban’s distrust of the
tulpa. Not because of his innate ability, but simply from spending so much time
in close quarters with the soldier. Growing up, his lack of intelligence and
poor social skills made it difficult for him to build relationships with
people, but now that he really was an outcast - a one of a kind freak, he
actually found it easier to empathise with others.
‘Well, just remember that they’re both
Emmy. The reason she brought it here is because she needs it. She was there for
me when I was at my lowest. I think we now need to be there for her too.’
Esteban smiled. Jimmy was maturing. The
simple boy whom he had captured back at Sydney Opera House was now a man.
The soldier stayed in the hall until
after Jimmy had left. He waited a few minutes and then went to Emmy’s quarters.
Her room was lit by a candle burning in a recess built into the wall above the
bed. She was on her back with her eyes closed, but he could tell she was awake.
Had she sought sleep, she would have put out the candle.
‘The monks seem quite taken with Lucy,’
he said, unsure how to broach the subject of the tulpa and not entirely sure
that he wanted to.
Of course, he did not really have a
choice. Whether he was comfortable with it or not, that thing in the main hall
was now their best shot at shutting down the Chinese and making it home.
‘Don’t call her that.’ She remained on
the bed with her eyes closed. ‘That thing is not Lucy. Lucy is dead. She died
three years ago. Only I was too confused to see it. I’ve been deluding myself
all this time.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘You have no idea what you’re talking
about. If you’d been at Jackson’s Hill, you’d be dead too. Everyone who was
there is now in the ground or in a coma. I don’t deserve to be here.’
Esteban sat on the bed.
‘You can’t think like that,’ he told her.
‘You did what you had to do in order to survive. Jimmy and Charlie did the same
or they would not be here now either. Do they deserve it any more or any less
than you?’
This time she opened her eyes and pulled
herself up from the bed, adopting a seated position with her back against the
wall.
‘Jimmy was a special case and comparing
him to me is completely irrelevant. He was an innocent, I wasn’t.’
‘What about your friend, Charlie? From my
understanding, you two developed the technology together. It doesn’t make any
sense to think that one deserves a worse fate than the other.’
‘Charlie was not there when it mattered
most. If we had the time over, there’s nothing he could have done differently.
It was on a whim that my grandfather chose to save him. I think that somewhere,
deep down, there was still good in Pops. Perhaps sending Charlie home was his
way of evening the score. The cold war was effective because both sides posed
an equal threat. Any act of aggression and mutual destruction was assured. That
was what kept the peace. Pops wanted the Chinese to act as deterrent should the
West abuse the power he had bestowed upon them.’
‘Well, whatever the reason and the justification
or lack thereof, you’re here now. Somehow, your experiences have provided you
with abilities the rest of us don’t have. It’s time for you to take ownership
of that power. You can’t bring Lucy back, but you can honour her memory by
making sure the sacrifice made by her and the others is not in vain. You have
to learn how to control the tulpa and in order to do that you must first make peace
with your past.’
‘I don’t know how to do that.’
‘I think you do. You just won’t admit it
to yourself.’ He stood, but did not leave immediately. ‘Jimmy and I will be waiting.
When you’re ready, we’ll be here for you.’
***
Ten men were selected from a labour camp
in the North. They possessed almost identical backgrounds. Each was a disgraced
military official of senior rank, desperate to atone for past mistakes. Through
General Tao, they would be given that chance.
In their former careers these men had
been part of an elite fighting force. They did not just command legions of men,
they had also been a part of that legion. They were both masters and servants.
They were warriors.
The men were told what was required of
them and they each were given the option to back out. None took it. The
opportunity to once more serve their motherland was too alluring to turn down.
They would not pass on the chance to regain their honour. To once more make a
difference.
After a brief orientation, the men were
placed inside the astral projection chambers. As they experienced the
separation of mind and body, they also got their first taste of freedom since
beginning their sentences. It was freedom from confinement. Freedom from the
dishonour they had once brought down on their families. Above all, it was
freedom from responsibility. Once sure of their separation, the general ordered
that their cords be severed.
When Jackson Fox had learnt to tame the
effects of the radiation on his body (or whichever stolen body he occupied in
his quest for immortality) his success had, at the time, been attributed to his
superior intellect. His genius. General Tao had come up with an alternative
theory.
The second test group were also taken
from a facility built to house former members of the military. These men,
however, were not criminals. They were heroes. Heroes who had sacrificed
everything but their lives in the service of their country. Their injuries
varied from a severed spine to first degree burns covering eighty five per cent
of the patient’s body.
The serum was identical to the one given
to the dogs. It was a combination of the psychic radiation distilled into
liquid form and a stabilising agent synthesized from Jimmy’s blood. Once
administered, the men were placed into a room, which was then sealed and
flooded with more of the radiation, undiluted this time. They were supplied
with one cyanide pill apiece.
When the men emerged, it was not from the
radiation cell, but from the astral chambers holding the vacant bodies
previously belonging to the disgraced soldiers. These war heroes, had quite
literally, been reborn. They were also one less in number. Only nine of them
had been successful in the transition.
***
She was unsure where to start. There were
a million and one things she wanted to say to Lucy. The problem was that it was
not Lucy sitting in front of her. It was the tulpa - a cruel fallacy of her own
creation. After several fruitless attempts to maintain a useful dialogue with
the creature, she was getting frustrated.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she said. ‘I know
you aren’t real. You’re just a figment of my imagination.’
‘I don’t understand,’ the tulpa replied.
‘Don’t say that. Don’t pretend to be her.
You’re not Lucy.’
‘Are you mad at me?’
A rebuke was forming behind her lips when
she noticed something she had earlier missed in the tulpa’s countenance, which
was effectively an embodiment of her own subconscious. She realised that it was
not anger driving it, but fear. The tulpa was a defence mechanism. It was her
way of coping with the loss and pain inflicted at Jackson’s Hill.
‘No, I’m not mad at you,’ she said. ‘It
wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault. There’s nothing we could’ve done
differently. I couldn’t save you and rather than face up to that, I created
this fantasy. I tried to bring you back.’
‘Why?’
Emmy smiled.
‘You know why. I needed hope. I needed to
know that I still had the possibility of a future. Then Jimmy came along. That
was why things changed, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ replied the tulpa. ‘When I
encouraged Jimmy to use his power for good, I saw a chance to redeem myself. I
no longer needed the lie.’
Emmy noticed that the tulpa had dropped
the pretence of being Lucy. It still resembled her former lover in appearance,
but it no longer spoke as if it was her former lover. She also noticed another
change. A change that was taking place within her own mind.
Her memories began to alter. All of the
times she had shared with Lucy - the tulpa version of Lucy, since leaving
Jackson’s Hill, now took on a duality. Her original memories were intact and
unchanged, but they were now mirrored by echoes of the same events as seen
through the eyes of the tulpa. In the present too, she could feel her inner
consciousness converge with the projected one sat across the table. She could
switch between her own view and that of the tulpa as easily as altering the focus
of her eyes.
She raised her right arm above her head.
The tulpa copied her. She then raised her left arm, before bringing them both
down to touch the top of her head, creating a shape resembling the letter M.
Again, the tulpa matched her actions in perfect unison. She opened her mouth to
speak and the tulpa did the same.
‘How do I...’ ‘How do I...’
They both talked over one another and in
seeing the futility in continuing, they both stopped. What she needed was a way
to control the projection’s movements without having to perform the requisite
actions herself. She had an idea.
The times when the tulpa had manifested
previously and acted independently of her had been when she was unconscious.
She believed that the key to controlling it was through meditation. The last
time she had tried this it had been a failure even though the tulpa did appear.
Back then, she had not been aware of its presence and so controlling it was
impossible. This time it was different. This time she knew what she had to do.
Esteban was waiting for her outside. When
the door to her room opened and Lucy stepped out, he was disappointed. The
unnatural being sensed his dejection.
‘What’s the matter, soldier, am I not who
you were expecting?’ it asked.
‘In a manner,’ he replied. ‘I was hoping
to see Emmy.’
‘Not a problem,’ it said. ‘Your wish is
granted.’
It bent forward as if performing a bow
and waved its hand in front of its face. One moment it resembled Lucy, the next
it was an exact duplicate of the scientist controlling it.
‘Emmy?’ Esteban queried.
‘The one and only,’ it replied. ‘Beaming
live via satellite from the very next room.’
‘So you are in control?’
‘Yes. It’s a little freaky. Kind of like
traversing the astral plane, but a little more sluggish. My thoughts feel heavy
as if pressed upon by gravity.’
‘How are your reactions?’
‘I’m not sure. Why don’t you test them?’
‘How?’
‘Hit me.’
The soldier clenched his fist, but then
relaxed. He could not bring himself to strike the woman he had grown so fond of
during the previous weeks. Sensing his hesitation, Emmy decided to make things
a little easier for him. She again altered her appearance.
‘How about now?’
Esteban was now face to face with an
exact duplicate of Colonel Rodman.
‘Well, soldier?’ asked the
pseudo-colonel. ‘Is there anything you want to say to me?’
‘Not really,’ replied Esteban. ‘But I do
have a message from Jack Berry.’
He aimed his fist at the underside of the
colonel’s chin. If he channelled enough anger into it, he thought he may be
able to take the prick’s head clean off. Instead, he almost dislocated his own
shoulder as the tulpa deftly stepped back from his strike.
‘Maybe the cold is stiffening your joints
and throwing your timing off.’
The taunt was from Emmy and it was good
natured. Esteban, however, heard only the voice of his commanding officer. His
first punch had not landed, but he would make sure the next one did.