Disclaimer: I don't own the characters involved; Square does. No profit is being made from their use. So don't sue; you wouldn't get anything of value, anyway.
Author's Note: I really must get off my rear and write this fic; it's an idea that I really like, and I want to tell the story. Especially this particular chapter, which turned out to be easy to write once I had time to do it; I did half of it in one night. Didn't get much sleep as a result. But this last semester was hell, and I've only just won my way free of it – and now I'm busy with yet another semester. I'll try to write more TSW fics for you all to enjoy.
Infinite Requiem
Three – Ghost in the Machine
In the end, Aki achieved something that passed for sleep, but only for an hour, she knew with an accuracy so uncanny that it had to indicate the presence of some sort of internal chronometer. Still, she awoke feeling refreshed, as if she'd slept the entire night away. Not only that, but she'd awoken to the sensation of something soft under her backside – the numb state her body had been in since she'd awakened into this nightmare world was finally fading, as her body acclimatized to the changes. Aki spent several long minutes just running her fingers over the pillow, marveling that she could finally feel it. Oh, she couldn't yet distinguish the texture of the pillow cloth from that of the bedding by touch, but now she knew that it would come with time. She wasn't doomed to an eternity of partial sensory deprivation, at least.
She stood and stretched, out of habit rather than necessity, then gave her room a once over. She'd been too preoccupied to give it more than a cursory glance after her talk with Hein, but now that she'd had time to digest what she'd been told, it was time to investigate her surroundings. The room wasn't much at first glance; the small, dark space had water-stained off-white walls and warped ceiling tiles, and Aki wasn't sure if the dark blotches on the carpet were part of the pattern or stains. The furnishings, while clearly not new, were at least in better shape then the room and the building around her. The military cot that served at her bed looked as if it had been recently pulled from storage, and the small dresser was scratched and dented, but well-cared for. An equally well-used desk and chair were shoved against the wall opposite her bed, and near the desk, a panel that gleamed with newness in the dingy room had been set into the wall, its sockets carefully covered with plastic plugs. It held the promise of new equipment to be installed, so at least they were planning to give her something to work with. There was no bathroom that she could find, and she wondered if she even needed one any more.
One thing she knew she did need, however, was clothing. Every time she glanced down at the machine that now passed as her body, a feeling of despair would wash through her, threatening to overwhelm her. This body wasn't hers; it was as featureless as a doll's body, with vague curves in all the right places, but lacking in detail. It was a gleaming silvery-gray in color, with each piece joined so smoothly there were no jagged edges. The streamlined form was beautifully crafted, but it wasn't real, and Aki didn't want to look at it. She went over the bureau and pulled open the drawers. Someone had left clothing folded inside, nothing Aki would have chosen for herself, but it would do. She pulled out a black bodysuit similar to the one Jane had been wearing, one that would cling to her body but cover most of the metal portions. Further searching produced a pair of black boots and a long black coat.
Aki wrinkled her nose with distaste. Did Hein dress all his women in feminine versions of his favorite outfit? But there weren't many other options, so Aki dressed herself, feeling marginally better when she could no longer see herself. Maybe now she could at least hold on to the illusion that she was human.
"You're up," a voice said matter-of-factly. Aki turned to face Jane, who had entered unobserved and stood watching Aki dispassionately. "Did you get any sleep?"
"A little," Aki said. Her search had yielded a brush, and she ran the bristles through her mussed hair. At least that was how she remembered it… "I had a lot running through my mind; it's a wonder I was able to sleep at all."
"It is a bit much to take in all at once," Jane agreed, and this time there was sympathy in her voice. "Are you ready to get to work?" Aki remained silent, and Jane frowned. "Will you do it?" she asked at last.
Finally, someone's actually asking me, Aki thought. "It's not as if I have a choice," she said bitterly. "It seems I've been bought and paid for, so I may as well make sure it's money well spent." Jane actually winced, and Aki eased up on her temper. "Besides, nobody else seems to care about the planet," she said, still finding the oblivious attitude of the cybernetically enhanced to be reprehensible. "Yes, I'll do what I can to save the world – if it's possible."
Jane gestured for Aki to follow, and the two women left the shabby room to stride down the equally shabby corridor. It didn't look any better now in the brighter lighting used during the diurnal cycle; ever stain, every groove, every crack was visible. Aki's jaw tightened as she imagined what condition the lab was going to be in. She somehow doubted the term 'state-of-the-art' could be applied to it. Jane led Aki unerringly to the next corridor over and paused before a sliding door that at least looked newer than the frame. "This is where you'll be doing most of your research." She tapped the control panel, and the door slid open soundlessly. Jane stepped back to let Aki through first, then followed after. "There's going to be a computer installed in your room eventually so you'll be able to work from there, but for now, this'll have to do."
Jane hung back by the door as Aki glanced around with great trepidation. Her first reaction was relief; though the paint was peeling from the faded walls and the tiles were chipped, the equipment was in good repair. She recognized a slightly updated version of the machine that analyzed and extracted spirits, a storage device for the acquired spirits, and of course, a computer. The computer itself puzzled her; she immediately recognized the controls that would bring up the holographic control panels, as well as the screen projector, but the cables from the system led to a large matte black container that stood almost as tall as Aki herself. It reminded her of an old-fashioned hard drive tower on a much larger scale, but it lacked any place to insert attachments, unless there were slots behind the only visible access panel.
Seeing where Aki's attention lay, Jane said, with a peculiarly flat tone, "That is one of the most advanced computers available. It'll be able to do pretty much anything you ask of it."
Aki was about to ask how Hein had managed to procure this technological marvel when he couldn't even get a decent building to put it in, but the look on Jane's face stopped her. Something was making Jane extremely uncomfortable, something in the lab itself. Aki ran her eyes over the equipment, wondering what had made the woman so uneasy. Then she shrugged; maybe the woman was just not as much in accord with Hein's plan as she pretended. "Will it do?" Jane asked shortly.
Aki nodded. "It'll do." It wasn't like she had much choice, anyway.
"Good." Jane gave the lab one last, unreadable glance, then gestured towards the door. "Hein wanted to talk to you after I gave you the tour. Let's go."
Aki was rapidly becoming frustrated by everybody's assumptions that she'd do whatever she was told, without having anything explained to her. As she followed Jane, she resolved to press the woman for answers. "Just what is it that you and Hein do, anyway?" she asked. "Are you still military?"
Jane gave a humorless laugh. "The military hates us." For a moment, that seemed to be all she'd get out of the other woman. "No; Hein was discharged from the military after the Zeus Cannon disaster. Publicly because he was wounded, but really, they wanted to get rid of an embarrassment. He spent about a year recovering, and then he was given a seat on the Council as an advisor for military matters – and so they could keep a close watch on him. He's basically held the seat ever since." Jane slowed, sighing. "As the cybernetic process became more widespread and fear of the Phantoms lessened, his role became less and less important over time, and now… he's the only one on the Council who really seems to care any more."
"Why does he still have a seat, then?" Aki asked curiously. The position of a Council member hadn't been a lifelong job thirty years ago.
"The military wants someone on the Council who understands military matters; the Council, however, no longer sees the necessity of the military since we don't fight the Phantoms anymore, and don't want to go to the effort of finding someone new and idealistic to fill Hein's position. So, to keep the military happy, they keep Hein where he is. They're satisfied with the arrangement, since they know Hein. They think he's harmless, maybe a little senile, but not likely to do anything." She smiled grimly. "They have no idea, however, just what he's willing to do to accomplish his goals."
Aki almost felt pity for the former general, who'd pretty much been mothballed and left to rot. No wonder he'd begun to study Sid's theories; he probably didn't have anything better to do.
And he seemed to be the only person left who gave a damn, which made him Aki's only real ally in this world. She wondered if Hell had frozen over while she'd slept. "As for me," Jane continued, "After the captain was court martialed, the rest of the squad was disbanded. I… I couldn't find anyone else that I could work with. So I volunteered for the job as Hein's personal bodyguard." From Jane's tone, Aki knew there was more to the story, but she wasn't willing to talk about it, and Aki didn't really want to listen. The general was responsible for Gray's death; she didn't want to hear any more that might make her feel compassion for the man.
She didn't have time for more questions, however; they'd arrived at the shabby office Aki had been taken to the previous night. Everything looked the same, down to Hein's position behind his desk. Aki wondered if he even left his office any more.
He glanced up at their arrival, and Aki again felt shock at how time had ravaged the man. But it wasn't just age that had changed him; she could read defeat in every line of his body. Reviving her must have been one final, desperate attempt at accomplishing what he'd failed at for years. "Does the lab meet your requirements?" he asked.
"For now," Aki said. "Tell me: how many scanner arrays do I have access to?" Previously, she'd been able to use scanner arrays connected to satellites in various positions over the globe, as well as what the Black Boa had been able to carry. It had enabled her to comb an entire planet for the spirits with the proper wavelengths.
Hein couldn't seem to meet her gaze. "None," he said quietly. Aki's jaw dropped.
"None?" she repeated, not sure she heard right. Hoping she hadn't heard right.
"Without the constant need for vigilance against the Phantom threat, scanners were seen as a waste of money. Only those situated around the barriers are active," he said scornfully. "And even those are short range. A few of the military satellites still carry scanning equipment, but it's not currently activated."
"I can't do this if the cities are the only areas I can scan," Aki said flatly.
Hein was silent as he thought it over. "I don't think the military would permit us to use their satellites," he said at length. His voice was bitter, speaking volumes of his relationship with the modern USMF. Clearly, the Council wasn't the only authoritative group Hein was on thin ice with. "The broadcast satellites are out; they lack the scanner array you'd need even if the networks did grant permission for someone to use their satellites." He tapped his fingers on his desk as he thought. "There is one possibility: Haven space station. Their equipment could boost the signal considerably and scan at a greater range. Even better, they have a governing system apart from the Council and the military; they'll be more open to the possibility of recreating the spirit wave. They won't side with us, but they won't be against us, either." He frowned. "The problem is going to be making contact with Haven. The Council monitors contact between the station and Earth; if I attempted to establish communication through the normal channels, they'd know we're up to something."
Aki chafed at the need to keep their activities secret; Hein's assertions that the Council would be suspicious of her activities didn't make any sense to her. Thirty years had passed by; surely the Council didn't still believe that could have had any ties to the Phantoms? But she didn't voice her complaints. "All right," she said. "I'll make do with what I have for now, but until I have access to a spatial scanning array, don't expect any immediate results. I'll start with inside the city itself; that shouldn't be beyond the abilities of what you've given me."
"That's all I ask," Hein said quietly.
XXX
Now that biting her nails was a nervous habit that had been denied her, Aki had taken to pacing. While the scan was running, she had little to do but wait. Wait, and hope. The general scan of the city had yielded no results, so Aki was now combing the city in sections. Narrowing the focus of the scan increased its power; if something as small as an insect contained a compatible spirit, she'd find it.
Aki sighed as she passed by the holo-monitor for the fourth time in as many minutes; despite the advancements in technology, the program was running slower than the one she and Dr. Sid had devised. Which left her with nothing to do but walk the length of her lab, turn around and retrace her steps, and then repeat the circuit. She'd poked at the newer technology, familiarizing itself with how it worked, and having discovered that it was very user-friendly and required little effort to adapt to, had resorted to pacing. With every circuit, her attention was drawn to the massive hard drive tower of the main computer. I shouldn't, she scolded herself. Messing with technology I don't understand won't make the scans go faster. She'd been telling herself that for the past three days, but all the while, she couldn't help but wonder. Could she rig something to make it work better? She was no computer expert, but her position as Dr. Sid's assistant had required her to be handy with hardware and software, and maybe if she just took a look…
Finally, frustrated that the scan was only a quarter of the way done after her hundredth time of passing by the monitor, Aki decided there wouldn't be any harm in at least seeing how the computer worked. She went up to the matte black tower, probing the outline of the panel until she found the latch. She gave a tug, but the panel resisted. Locked.
With a deft twist of her inhumanly strong metal fingers, Aki tore the latch free, and the panel swung open of its own accord. Aki stepped back, her mind struggling to grapple with what was revealed. The computer's inner workings were like nothing she'd ever seen; in fact, what she saw shouldn't have been in a computer at all. Behind the panel was a plastic barrier that at first glance she mistook for being murky green, then she realized it was a window into a fluid-filled tank. Within the dark liquid, she could just see a vague shape, black against the dark emerald fluid. She moved closer, intending to get a better look at what lay within the computer's heart. There'd been nothing like this thirty years ago… A row of buttons set flush in the panel door caught her eye, and Aki pushed the one labeled 'light.' The flood lights that snapped on brilliantly illuminated the tank and what was suspended within, and Aki couldn't suppress a scream as the mysterious lump was thrown into sharp relief.
It was a person, or, rather, what was left of one. It was little more than a limbless torso, the face slack and nearly featureless, blind eyes sunken into sockets, the abdomen threaded with wires, swatches of skin peeled away to better insert the circuits. The skin was ragged at the edges; over time, pieces had fallen away to drift around the tank. The skull had been opened and subsequently covered with a plastic dome, and from what little she could see of the brain, it was studded with complex circuitry, connected by insulated conduits running to the roof of the tube. But what made Aki's stomach churn – or would have, if she'd had a stomach – was that the chest was rising and falling. The person was breathing.
It was alive.
"Horrible, isn't it?"
The familiar voice made Aki whirl around, eyes darting around the room. Seeing nothing, she wondered if her mind had finally had all it could take, if she had snapped again. Because the there was no one in the room with her except for the body…
"I try not to think about it," the voice continued conversationally, and this time Aki knew the voice wasn't in her mind. She voice had come from to her right, near the computer console. She turned towards it, glad to have an excuse to turn her back on the tank's grisly contents. A man was standing next to the chair she'd abandoned, wearing the slightly rumpled civilian clothing of an off-duty USMF soldier. There was a glint of humor in his expression, a look which didn't belong in the same room as the hideously mangled body floating serenely behind her. Aki tried to speak, but failed. The man looked real enough, but upon close inspection, she realized she could see the equipment behind him, as though he weren't really there. As though he were a ghost.
Which was appropriate, really, since she'd been told that Corporal Neil Fleming hadn't survived the conversion surgery. Aki's eyes went wide, and she backed away, into the tank's unyielding surface. The movement sent a shudder through the fluid, causing a peel of flesh to pull free from the ragged torso. The not-quite-there-Neil frowned. "Careful, please," he pleaded. "I'm kinda fragile."
That was when Aki finally realized what her mind had refused at first to accept: that the face of the mangled body was a familiar one. With dawning horror, Aki glanced between the two faces, one pale and ravaged, the other whole yet insubstantial. It was Neil who lived within the computer, Neil, who had helped her in the abandoned city and whose piloting talents had saved them in the Tucson wasteland. "No…" she whispered. This was far worse than the discovery that she had been altered against her will; she, at least, was free to move about, to lead a semblance of normal life. Neil was locked within a computer, free only, she realized now, wherever he had access to a holographic projector, for that was what this 'ghost' had to be.
Neil came up beside her, arms folded across his chest. He studied what was left of his body with an air of detachment that she admired. If it were her body in the tank, she'd be curled into a fetal position and screaming. "Yes," he said softly. He waited patiently while Aki struggled to regain control of herself. Her breathing had quickened, and her entire body was trembling. She feared that she was about to slip into another hysterical fit, like the one she'd had upon first realizing her condition. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the confused torrent of emotion rushing through her mind to calm. She wasn't exactly successful, but at least she no longer felt like giving in the madness again. She'd staved it off… for the moment.
"You get used to it after awhile," Neil went on when she'd regained as much of her composure as was possible, given the situation. For the first time, Aki noticed that although his good-natured expression didn't waver, his tone had flattened, and there was a flinty look in his eyes that belied his gentle smile. "It's amazing what humans will do to adapt, isn't it?"
"Why?" was all she could manage. Neil turned to look at her, and suddenly all pretense at humor was gone, leaving only the steel she'd previously glimpsed. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but marvel at how holographic projection had advanced since she'd been frozen; Neil's avatar caught every nuance of his body language, adding to the illusion that he was real.
"I didn't have a choice," he said. "My body resisted what the surgeons were doing to it, and I was dying." Neil closed his eyes and turned his face away from her. "It was very painful, I remember that. I couldn't seem to stop the screaming. And yet, my body refused to give up on life so quickly. I lingered for days, in agony. I couldn't move, because they'd taken my limbs, and so I was denied the ability to take my own life. And I wasn't the only one suffering; Jane was still recovering from her own surgery when she found out about me, and she spent all her time in my room, when she should have been resting in her own bed while her body learned to cope with its changes. She was an emotional wreck because of the surgery; seeing me like that destroyed her." His voice broke at this, and Aki found she wanted to hold him, to comfort him – but it would do no good; his insubstantial body wouldn't even feel it. "Before we went in for the surgery, we gave each other power attorney in case something went wrong – as a joke, you know? It meant my fate was in Jane's hands, and she couldn't bear to see me like this. I thought she would order the doctors to help me die. Instead, she begged them for any chance to save my life."
He was silent for so long that Aki thought he was done. Then he said, "I know that she did it because she cared about me, and I don't hold that against her. If our positions were reversed, I may have done the same." He finally turned back to her, and despite the sorrow in his words, he seemed strangely calm. "Advances were constantly being made in human/machine interface, and they'd been looking for a test subject for something a bit more drastic than a 'simple' conversion into a cyborg. It turned out that equipment that could keep my alive did exist, after all, but it was so big, so expensive, that it was impractical to use it on a simple soldier. But as a test subject, I was suddenly worth so much more. They hooked my body up to these machines and created the link between my brain and the computer, and suddenly they had a human intelligence capable of understanding things previously beyond the mind's ability to grasp. I could be several places at once, access systems with a thought, absorb information in seconds. I think this was meant as the next jump in human evolution." He laughed bitterly. "Unfortunately, I think I scared my benefactors. Or it was the future that frightened them. Whatever it was, they never tried this again, and I was left alone, stored away for nearly a decade, isolated from the world, asleep. Then Hein requested that I be installed here, and since I was deemed as superfluous as he was, the powers that be decided, 'Why not?' So, here I am."
Aki's legs felt weak, and she stumbled over to her chair. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"
"They probably didn't want to freak you out, not after all you've already been through. Besides, I've been rather uncommunicative, so they probably didn't think it was worth mentioning." Neil sighed. "When I realized that Jane was here, I decided to play the emotionless machine, partly to out of petty vengeance, so she could see just what she did to me, and partly…" he hesitated. "Partly because I could see that she was in love with Hein, and I didn't want to get between them. If she thought I still existed, somewhere inside this computer, her feelings for me might have destroyed her relationship. Jane has a hard time loving others, and what happened to me would have affected her deeply; it would've taken her years to get over it. And I wanted her to be happy, so I never let her know that I'm still here."
"Haven't you been lonely?"
"I can talk to anyone anywhere in the world," Neil said. "I have dozens of online personas, and speak to hundreds of people on the internet. But it's not the same as talking to someone you know personally. Yes, I do get lonely. Which is why I took a chance and decided to talk to you, once you realized the truth." His voice took on a note of desperation. "Please, Dr. Ross, could we speak again?"
Aki resolved then and there to find a way to get a holographic projector for her room. No one should lead a life this lonely. "Of course!" she said. He seemed to sag in relief. "And you can call me 'Aki.'" Neil grinned, and Aki suddenly realized it was the first she'd seen that was actually genuine. His simple joy at finally finding a friend made her smile in return, and it occurred to her that in that moment, she was happier than she'd been in a long time.
He wasn't the only one who'd needed a friend.
XXX
Day and night seemed to blur into one long, monotonous stretch of checking the computers, pacing, eating the questionable 'nutrient packs' that Jane said sustained her body, taking an hour or so off for sleep despite not really requiring it, and resuming her scan-and-pace routine. If it weren't for Neil's steady stream of chatter and Jane's infrequent visits, Aki suspected she would have gone crazy from the boredom.
Not that insanity didn't have its appeal…
The computer gave a beep, and Aki ceased her pacing to trot over to examine the monitor's readout. She growled in frustration as what scrolled across the screen confirmed her worst fears – there were no spirits within the New York barrier city that were compatible with the spirit wave. Aki closed her eyes and banged her head on the bank of monitors in frustration. She'd hoped to find at least one…
"No luck?" Jane's voice startled Aki out of what could have been the start of an attack of hysterics on the scale of the one that had left her incapacitated when she'd first woken in the hospital.
Aki's expression was answer enough for Jane. The other woman sighed. "Hein's doing all he can to get access to another scanner, but he's not having much luck. Getting in touch with Haven is proving more difficult than we'd originally thought." Her tone was mild, but beneath it, Aki heard an undercurrent of worry. They'd been trying for almost a week, now. It shouldn't take this long to establish contact!
"Let me try it."
Aki stiffened at the unexpected voice; Neil had never even so much as bleeped when Jane was in the lab with Aki. She braced herself, waiting for the other woman's reaction. Jane's body had gone rigid, her face frozen in an expression of shock. Aki followed her gaze and saw Neil standing off to the side, arms folded, an amused grin on his semi-translucent features. "'Lo, Jane," he said.
Jane's mouth worked, but no sound came out. Neil turned to Aki, giving her an apologetic look. "She was going to find out about me sometime," he said. "Let me tackle the problem of contacting Haven," Neil continued.
"Neil?" Jane finally managed. "Neil… why…?" And then, her nerve broke.
Jane fled from the room.
XXX
Aki rubbed her eyes, which she was certain were red and bloodshot, no matter what Hein had said about the resilience of her new body. "The scanner's range extends about a mile outside of the city, and Neil and I have gone over every last inch of it. We've left no insect, fungus, or bacteria unscanned," she said, wishing she could heave a weary sigh of long-suffering. Her body refused to comply. "There is nothing inside the city that can be used to recreate the spirit wave." She was in his office, seated across from him. Jane had taken her accustomed position just behind him, her stance deceptively relaxed.
She saw Hein swallow his disappointment with some difficulty. "I suppose it was too much to hope for that the spirits would be so conveniently close," he said. He folded his liver-spotted hands on the desk before him and leaned forward. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to establish contact with Haven yet, so we can't count on their help. I can lend you my ship; it's a civilian craft, but it could carry the necessary equipment."
Aki grimaced; to scan the planet in small chunks like that could take years. She'd already been informed that equipment like that which she'd used aboard the Black Boa was currently unavailable; anything she could rig up would be far inferior.
Hein rubbed his temples as if they pained him. "I know it's not the best of options, but it's all we can do right now. We can't wait for Haven; we have to do this before things get worse than they already are."
"Too late," Neil's disembodied voice unexpectedly cut in. "Things already are much worse than we initially thought." The three of them turned, just as Neil materialized before them through the projector on Aki's new wrist computer. Hein had grown used to the hologram's presence and only started slightly at the sudden appearance. Jane looked away quickly, her gaze downcast. There was something in Neil's face that Aki hadn't seen before. It took her a moment to recognize it as defeat.
"What do you mean?" Hein asked.
"I was attempting to establish a line of communication with Haven station, like you requested," Neil said. "I hacked into the Council database to locate the data I would need, and found… nothing."
"You mean, the Council doesn't communicate with the station at all?" Hein asked in disbelief.
"Not anymore." He let his words hang in the air, giving them a moment to sink in. "I thought at first that maybe I just wasn't looking in the right place, but then I found these." Four rectangles took shape in the air, lined with glowing letters. "They're cargo manifests, for the last three supply runs to the station." He glanced over at Aki, explaining for her benefit, "The Council sends a supply ship to Haven every three months. If you read through them, you'll see that they're the same."
Jane frowned. "So? It's only naturally they'd need to constantly re-supply certain items."
"They're the exact same," Neil emphasized. "I know; recurring items are to be expected, but look at this." He touched one of the lists, zooming in on one particular item. Aki glimpsed a string of serial numbers and the word 'coil.' "This is a replacement for a part in the station's environmental system. If you look, they list the part again here," he touched the second list, "here," third list, "and here." The serial numbers appeared again on the fourth. "Now, parts wear out over time, but it takes considerably longer than three months. They wouldn't need to replace it four times in one year."
"Maybe they just used the same list over and over, to save the trouble of compiling a new one," Hein said doubtfully. Aki could hear the first glimmerings of fear in his voice.
"Possible," Neil agreed. "But that doesn't explain why I've found no records of the Council communicating with the station at all in the past year. I think someone copied the manifests to cover for the fact that they are no longer receiving requests from the station itself. And the only reason the Council would cease communication with Haven station would be because it no longer exists."
To Be Continued…
