The Plan
Tammi stretched her arms above her head, interlacing her fingers as she did. When she could stretch no further, she both heard and felt her joints pop. Closing her eyes, she twisted her head from side to side, feeling those bones complaining as well. She was tempted to stand, giving her hips and knees some relief as well, but she had been reprimanded the last time she tried.
She had been typing for hours, sending data into the brain centre of Fusion-90 – the top-secret simulations computer of the Solnoid Central Guard. Located in Dione, the sprawling capitol city of Marsus, home to over four billion Solnoid soldiers... they were tasked with overseeing critical aspects of the Paranoid War – devising strategies to counter any possible attack the Enemy could come up with. Her burden was a heavy one, since their centuries-old foe had proved to be quite clever where battle tactics were concerned. F-90 had helped them keep up with those tactics, however, and had even turned the tide in several key battles recently. Tammi knew that – without the existence of F-90, the War may have been lost years ago.
Ironic...
"Why are you stopped, Sergeant?" called an authoritative voice from behind her. Tammi jumped out of the chair, spinning around to face the source of the voice as she did. Raising her right arm to place her outstretched hand over the left lapel of her uniform, she gave her supervisor a salute.
"I apologize, Ma'am," she said, a slight quiver in her voice, "there is a lot of data to input, and my hands were beginning to cramp."
"Cramping, huh?" the supervisor said, a hint of skepticism in her voice, "Perhaps you need to go to Medical for an examination?"
"That won't be necessary, Ma'am," Tammi replied, her voice sounding a little more confident. "My shift ends in thirty militz – I can manage until then."
"Very well," came the answer. "But I expect you to continue until then with no complaints." Her voice softened slightly, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she grinned. "I understand that you have a lot of work to do – these new Planet-Destroyer weapons have a lot of details and specifications that need to be considered, before F-90 can give us an answer. Just do your best, okay?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Tammi answered, lowering her arm to her side. "It won't be long now, I promise."
The supervisor nodded. "All right, soldier – back to it," she said as she turned and strode towards the door.
"Yes, Ma'am!" Tammi exclaimed to the woman's back, then jumping back into the chair and continuing to type eagerly.
Presently, her relief arrived, and Tammi gratefully relinquished her seat. "I got to segment Delta-Three," she told the green-haired teen, who merely waved her acknowledgement before leaning forward in the seat to begin typing vigorously. Would be nice to have that kind of energy again – Tammi thought to herself. Even though she was only twenty-five years old herself, the stress of her job had taken its toll on her. Stretching her legs, she made her way to the door – which slid open as she approached. Silently she made her way to her quarters – located in the southern bloc of the complex. Once there, she slipped off her tunic and sat on her bed, thinking...
Her thoughts were interrupted as the door slid open, and her bunkmate entered the room. "Hey there, Big Tee," the girl said happily. "How was your day?"
Tammi looked up and gave the girl a smile, looking at her golden eyes. "Good evening, Little Cee," she greeted the girl with the 'cute' name she had given the teen. "Things are going okay – it's just a pain, putting the mountains of data into the computers every day."
"I know what you mean," Little Cee replied. "I've been doing casualty reports for the past eighty days, and some of them are – well – weird."
"Weird? In what way?" Tammy asked, her curiosity piqued.
"We've been getting reports of soldiers dying in minor skirmishes – but they didn't die of battle trauma. There's no shrapnel damage, no decompression, nothing the field medics can detect. The best they can figure is heart failure."
"Heart failure?" Tammy repeated, "in healthy soldiers? That doesn't make sense."
"I know, right...?" her companion agreed. "We're getting the bodies transferred to Central Guard HQ for a detailed examination – we'll know more in a day or so."
"Sounds interesting," Tammi muttered. "Will you let me know what gets found? I'd like to know more."
"Sure thing," the girl said with a yawn. "But I really need to get some sleep. Hope you don't mind?"
"Not at all. Sleep well," Tammi told her as she slid out of her uniform – throwing it onto the floor before climbing into her bed and curling up around herself. Tammi smiled at the sleeping youth as she got up to collect her uniform from the floor and folding the tunic and slacks neatly before placing them at the foot of the girl's bed. She looked at the lightly-snoring form with a smile, before taking off her own boots and slacks to climb into the bed at the opposite wall. Very shortly, she was also asleep...
The next day, Tammi was back at her work station, typing in more data for F-90 to proecess. The room she shared had been empty when she woke up – she assumed that her bunkmate had left to get an early start on her own job. So no chance for a morning conversation...
"How are things going, Sergeant?" her supervisor asked, standing behind her chair once again. Instead of jumping up nervously this time, Tammi turned her head to look at the officer.
"Doing well, Ma'am," she said confidently. "F-90 has been input all the data we have, and is working on the scenarios now. We should have an answer for you any time now."
As if on cue, Tammi's console beeped for attention, and a giant image formed above them. Contained in the display was the stylized image of a star system, with a system-destroyer weapon stationed outside of the image. The weapon fired its beam at the central star of the image, and the system was wiped out in a burst of light. The image changed to that of a second star system, where the same scenario of destruction ran out. System after system flashed through the display, with the system-destroyer wiping out every single one of them. Finally, the images stopped changing, and three letters filled the screen...
M A D
"Mad?" the supervisor asked. "What does it mean, 'mad'?"
"One moment, Ma'am," Tammi said, "I'll ask for clarification." She typed for a moment, and the image changed. The letters slid to occupy a line of their own, and then expanded into words.
Mutually
Assured
Destruction
"Okay, what does THAT mean?" someone to Tammi's left wondered aloud.
"It means that there are no winners," Tammi explained. "Both sides are annihilated."
"But... but... how can it get that bad?" the unnamed voice continued.
"We LET it get that bad," Tammi countered. "We may have had other choices, earlier on, but we didn't take them."
"Okay, it's our fault," Tammi's supervisor said, putting a halt to the debate. "What can we do NOW to save ourselves?"
"I'll put it to F-90," Tammi said, typing furiously. The computer was quick to display a list of options.
Option #1 – Negotiated ceasefire
"Yeah – THAT's not going to happen," the supervisor said with a snort.
Option #2 – Evacuation and Relocation
"Abandon Marsus? The citizens will never agree to that."
"And what if the Paranoids follow us?" the supervisor said. "We'll have wasted the effort."
Option #3 – Seed distant worlds with Solnoid DNA to create new life
"That wouldn't change our current situation," the supervisor pointed out. "And there would be no guarantee that the seeds we sent out would EVER reach habitable worlds."
Option #4 – Hybridization
"Hybridization?" the supervisor asked, "What in blazes does THAT mean?"
Tammi typed again, and more text appeared in the air before them...
Hybridization: The process of combining two different forms of life to create a third
CRASH
Tammi turned to identify the source of the noise. She saw her bunkmate had dropped her memo-board. Shivering, her golden eyes wide, she looked terrified.
"Cee...?" Tammy asked tentatively.
Not speaking, the girl turned and ran for the door. Tammi jumped out of her chair, chasing her friend. "CEE! Cee, WAIT!" she called.
Catching up to her six corridors later, Tammi pushed the girl against the wall. "Cee – what is it? What's wrong?" she demanded.
Cee looked at her for a moment, eyes flooded with tears. "That's IT!" she cried – half panting, half sobbing. "That's what they're doing!"
"Tammi looked at her. "Calm down," she said, "take a breath, and tell me what you mean."
"The Paranoids," Cee whispered, her breath still ragged from her crying, "The soldiers who died – they're trying to hybridize us!"
"I don't understand..." Tammi admitted.
Cee took a breath. "The soldiers who died, with no apparent injuries? I was bringing their autopsies be be entered into F-90. They all died because something had been implanted into their bodies – something that was growing inside them, and changing them."
Tammi dropped her hands, shocked. "You're sure?" she asked.
Cee nodded. "The Paranoids must have already come to the same conclusion that we have – we have to do something to preserve something of ourselves, because we're going to make ourselves extinct. But what the autopsies also confirmed was that there was no sign of physical rejection. They died – but whatever it was that was happening to them, they didn't die because of that."
Tammi lifted her hand to her lip, biting her finger as she thought. "They didn't die of physical rejection," she offered, "Perhaps they died of EMOTIONAL rejection."
"Huh?" Cee asked, looking up at her.
"Perhaps the soldiers couldn't cope with the thought of being a hybrid," Tammi explained. "They died out of fear."
"Fear?" Cee muttered.
"Fear is a powerful emotion," Tammi said, "It can overwhelm even the toughest person, causing terrible things to happen. It can even kill, under the right circumstances."
"I... I think I understand," Cee said.
"What you want to do," Tammi went on, "is to find people who are open-minded enough to accept the idea of hybridization, without giving in to the fear of the radical change that goes along with it."
"How do we do that?" Cee asked.
"Reach out to the Paranoids," Tammi explained. "Offer your aid in identifying those who might, on some subconscious level, be willing to accept the process. If we can provide them with suitable subjects, we may even be able to SAVE their lives." Tammi shrugged. "Who knows? It might even bring the War to an end that much sooner, with a portion of both of our races still intact."
Cee looked at Tammi, her eyes beginning to show a hint of hope. "Do you think that it would be possible?" She asked.
"Honestly, Cee, I don't know," Tammi admitted. "But it's worth a try, don't you think?"
The girl nodded, a faint smile beginning to grow on her face. "Let's go suggest it to the Commander," she said eagerly.
Tammi shook her head slowly. "Not 'we'," she said. "You."
Cee's eyes shot wide. "ME? But..."
Tammi smiled at her. "I'm just a simple Data-Tech," she said, "and nearing the end of my career. You, however," she continued, as she placed her hands on the girl's shoulders, "are just starting yours. You are capable of doing great things, if you have a little bit of faith in yourself. The way that I have faith in you." With that, Tammi placed her hands on the girl's cheeks, planting a kiss on her forehead.
Cee's eyes widened in surprise, then softened. "I'll get to work on a proposal right away," she said excitedly. "I may need some help with key points, though."
Tammi smiled at her. "I'll be here to help with anything you need," she said. "All you have to do is ask."
Cee spun on her heel and ran towards their bunk-room. "Thank you!" she called back with a wave.
Tammi waved back with a smile...
Twenty days later, Tammi entered her now-private bunkroom. She sat down in the sole chair in the room, facing a large computer screen. Slipping of her boots, she took a sip from the bottle of calorie-juice she carried. Sighing with relief, she typed a series of keys on the keyboard in front of her. A series of clicks and hums followed, after which the screen lit up with the words – Room Secure. File Encryption Engaged. Proceed.
Tammi took a deep breath. "Personal report," she began, "Twenty-two-thirty hours on Galactic Standard Date Three-Five-Five, Nine-Seven-One, Two-Two-Six..."
"Despite my best efforts, these people seem unwilling to come to an armistice agreement with their adversary, the Paranoids. Even when faced with the total destruction of their race, they seem adamant about continuing their violent course towards mutual extinction. They have, however, entered into a mutual-preservation pact with their adversary. A representative from the Paranoid forces, one Commander Dawn, has agreed to allow Solnoid cooperation in their efforts to produce a new species that is a combination of both. The effort itself is doomed to fail, of course – but if both sides can maintain their side of the agreement, there remains a possibility that they can eventually be persuaded to begin larger and more comprehensive ceasefire agreements."
"My former roommate – now Lieutenant Catty Nebulart – has been a powerful advocate for the agreement. The Central Guard has taken scans of her body, and she will be used as the model for a series of synthetic liasons – they will be dispatched to various ships throughout the fleets, and will identify those who are more open-minded than the others. I will keep in contact with as many of them as I can – hopefully, those identified will also be open to the concept of a ceasefire, and we can go from there."
"I've also been promoted to work on the Project – called the Species Unification Plan. I am working on the AI systems that will guide the synthetics in their tasks. Perhaps they can also be persuasive enough to enlist others to the cause of peaceful co-existence. I am still within the Fusion-90 complex, so my efforts to guide the course of their development will not be hindered."
"It may be a decade or more before we can take the next step. I will continue to monitor events, and will report changes as necessary."
"This is Tamara Dominov, Covert Division, Solnarian Contact Group, report ends."
The computer hummed for a moment, then the screen displayed the message -
Encrypted. Ready to transmit.
Tammi reached her arms over her head, stretching until her joints popped. She paused for a moment to take a sip of her drink, then said, "Transmit."
The computer responded – Transmission sent. Local files erased. The message remained for a few seconds, then vanished.
Her task completed, Tammi stood up from the chair, taking one last sip of her drink as she did so. Tossing the empty bottle into the waste chute, she stripped off her tunic and slacks. Climbing into her bed, she mumbled to herself.
"Gotta get some sleep – big day tomorrow."
She fell asleep quickly, getting ready for the challenges she would soon face...
- FIN -
