Someone to Remember Me: The Anniversary Edition (30 page)

Summons

“He should have been back by now,” Ninety-Nine remarked. She circled through Command, passing the clusters of computers, largely ignoring their displays. Since the Rose Twelve were either conscious or in stasis, none of the computers had much to say. She glanced up at the chronometer in the corner of the room’s largest monitor. “Twenty has been missing almost nine hours,” she grumbled, calculating the math a fourth time.

Ninety-Nine passed by Seven and Eight. She was glad to see that Seven was revived and healthy but she couldn’t help thinking that a trade had taken place: Seven for Twenty. One missing friend exchanged for another. She did not resent Seven for it, knowing that Twenty went to the Second Core of his own volition. Ninety-Nine didn’t properly understand why it bothered her more than the others, who were keeping calm as they dealt with the newest disaster. Deciding that sentimentality was to blame, Ninety-Nine resolved to harden herself against such emotional attachments.

“What could be taking him so long?” asked Eight, sitting on the floor next to Seven.

Unable to offer them a substantial answer Nine shrugged and glared at the computers in disapproval. “Twenty is still alive or else his consciousness would be here at Rose Garden, ready to be moved into a new body.”

“We can’t track him?” Null suggested.

“In the early days we could, but not anymore. None of us enjoyed the idea of being monitored constantly.” It was a change that Nine regretted now; as did Ninety-Nine and her companions even though they didn’t remember it.

Ninety-Nine wondered if, given enough time with Provence, she might be able to reinstate the tracking feature. Even without her memories her advancements in learning and using the facility’s software had quickly outpaced Nine’s progress. His was the slow and grueling progress of a technologically illiterate man.

“I have concluded my diagnostics,” Provence stated. “Three days ago, Eight-Eight-Nine-Nine altered the base code for the memory transference protocol that takes effect upon the death of the Rose Twelve. In doing so, the subsequent usage of the transference system prompted a catastrophic system failure that erased whatever memories were left in storage.”

“Then our memories are really gone,” Null sighed. Null wrapped a consoling arm around Null’s sagging frame as both of them realized that Null would never truly reclaim her prior life. “We’ll never get them back.”

“If we altered the system, why did Seven wake up with his memories from the last three days?” Ninety-Nine inquired of Provence.

“Resetting the Artificial Intelligence Mainframe allowed for the elimination of the corrupted algorithms.”

“Sounds like I owe you,” Seven said to Ninety-Nine but she waved away his thanks since it had been her actions that had imperiled his life to begin with. If rebooting Provence hadn’t fixed the alterations to Rose Garden, then Seven might have woken up without his memories of the last three days. They were lucky, that was all. Ninety-Nine began to wonder if their luck was about to run out.

“Can you tell me why this happened? What their plan was?” Nine asked, accusingly watching Eight and Ninety-Nine.

“All logs and recordings were irreparably corrupted by the catastrophic system failure. There are no surviving records of the last four days,” Provence clarified.

“I covered my tracks well,” Ninety-Nine grumbled.

“At least we have a better understanding of what happened. We did this to ourselves and staged the journey back.” Eight’s tone of voice meant to conclude the debate, as if everything was answered and concluded.

“But why?” Null demanded. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“You did it for me,” Seven answered, breaking his silence. “At least, I think you did. I woke up to a recorded message from Eight. The other Eight.” Seven looked to each of his companions, gratitude and embarrassment in his expression. “I was…broken…before the rest of you did this to save me.”

Surprise, more than any other emotion, caught Ninety-Nine unawares. Seven, broken? How?

“He was in a bad place,” a cautious Nine confirmed when Null looked to him.

“We did this…to save Seven?” Ninety-Nine asked herself.

Ninety-Nine found reassurance in the fact that her prior self had partially architected the plan that resulted in the last three days. Their journey’s purpose was to bring him back from the edge of despair, of loss and oblivion, and escape to safety. This had been done for him. She shared a quick glance with Eight and Null, accepting just as Twenty had, their role in protecting him. In saving him. She thought that she would be bothered by the realization but, instead, she was only grateful that it had worked.

Eight, frustrated that Seven had chosen to reveal his secret, cleared her throat and said, “Now we have to focus on saving Twenty.” Seven seemed disinclined to speak further, as if shamed that he had contributed to their shared miseries, but his silence was offset by the steady current between himself and Eight. Ninety-Nine could detect their bond, she could feel it’s power, and wandered further away from them.

Knowledge, however powerful, did not come free of consequence. The loss of freedom, the subjugation of the present to the past. Ninety-Nine wanted none of that. She would determine every aspect of herself in this new life, writing her own future and fighting to do so.

“Then what do we do to save Twenty?” Ninety-Nine asked Eight.

“Unless we want to swim, we’re stranded on Rose Garden. Twenty took the only boat,” Null answered.

“That’s not exactly true. Is it, Nine?” Seven had spoken and his accusation caught Nine by surprise. The other man fumbled his response as the full attention of the room refocused on him.

“What’s he talking about?” Null asked when Nine failed to answer quickly enough.

Swallowing nervously, Nine admitted, “There’s a yacht in an indoor dry-dock behind the island.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about it?” she snarled at him. Nine retreated from Null’s anger, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You lied to us?” Eight breathed.

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t need to mention it until now. I woke up from stasis on the yacht around the time that you four returned to Rose Garden. When I wandered back here I was afraid for the ship’s safety because I thought, at the time, that the five of you were desperate to stay. Desperate enough to kill the rest of us.”

“Why would we want to stay? We need that ship to get as far away from Haven as possible!” Eight shouted. Nine’s betrayal formed yet another obstacle to a peaceful departure from Haven. Ninety-Nine’s temper remained poised and steadfast; Nine’s concerns were perfectly valid to her. The man had no way of knowing what their plans or motives were when they had killed him and his omission of details, until now, was warranted.

“I swear it was a question of trust and fear. I didn’t trust you when you showed up here. I didn’t trust
any
of you,” Nine said the last part directly to Null. “I don’t want to spend eternity stuck at Rose Garden being an immortal ghost. I want to leave. I want to live a rich, long life and die an old man.” Taking Null’s hand gently in his, Nine’s voice lowered. “For a few minutes after I woke up I thought I was willing to do it alone.”

These people were run by their emotions, Ninety-Nine decided, and it would be a miracle if they escaped with their lives.

“I can’t do this alone. None of us can. We can use the yacht to get to Haven whenever you want.” Taking a deep breath, Nine said, “I’m sorry that I lied.”

“It’s fine,” Seven decided, forgiving Nine on the group’s behalf. “I believe you. I would’ve done the same thing in your situation.”

“Then we take the ship and go get Twenty,” Ninety-Nine decided. She received affirmation from her friends and especially Seven, who was aware of the debt he owed his friend. Provence’s voice interrupted the conversation.

“There is an incoming transmission on Rose Garden’s private frequency. Routing it through speakers.”

When it addressed them a moment later, the new voice not only rattled against the walls but through the corridors of forgotten memories. Ninety-Nine and the others listened to the crafted velvet voice declare itself to the station’s occupants and she witnessed the color drain from Nine’s face. Synthetic yet organic; mechanical yet natural, the AdvISOR spoke to the conscious members of the Rose Twelve.

“I have acquired Two-Five-Two-Zero. I have acquired the location of Rose Garden. I know where you are, Founders, and a transport is on the way. Bring me One-Six-Two-Seven. I await him at Grand Cross.”

Then the AdvISOR was gone. Ninety-Nine switched on the video feed from a hidden camera outside Rose Garden, studying it at the nearest computer. Darkness enfeebled the quality of the image but the black dot therein, growing larger and larger, was departing Haven’s nighttime skyline and moving towards their island.

“Me? Why does the AdvISOR want me?” Seven asked, dumbfounded.

“Maybe Twenty told it that you were the reason he was at the Second Core? Maybe it tortured the information out of him?” Nine conjectured, oblivious to his lack of tact as panic threatened to overwhelm him. “Either way we have to figure out a plan before that helicopter gets here.”

Ninety-Nine slumped against her chair. If the AdvISOR was aware of them and actively demanding the return of the Founders then their chances at survival were dwindling rapidly. She tried to come up with a clever plan that would outwit the smartest computer in recorded history but without her memories, without any tactical knowledge of the AdvISOR, Ninety-Nine couldn’t hope to best it. She was not equipped to challenge the foe that stood between them and their escape.

Nor was Seven who, despite his many other admirable traits, remained average in intellect and wit even after his rebirth. Neither did Nine dare to assume responsibility for engineering a plan to steal Twenty back from the grasp of the AdvISOR.

“We have a ship,” Null said to Eight, their minds going to work.

“You said that the others are asleep on it?” Eight stepped in front of Nine, her authoritative demeanor suggesting the beginning of a plan. He nodded.

“Do you know how to operate the ship?”

“I should be able to,” Nine affirmed without promising anything.

“Do you think you can get it to Grand Cross?”

“Sure. Rose Garden is here…” he put a map of Haven on the largest display in Command. “…on one of the small islands clustered at the northern end of Haven. Grand Cross is at the far southern end—right there—where the shoreline is one big smooth curve.” A red light blinked on the map where Grand Cross was situated.

“You three should take the ship there. Seven and I are going to Grand Cross on the helicopter.”

“Me
and
you?” Seven repeated dubiously.

“Make your peace with it. When Seven and I get down there we’ll grab Twenty and escape on the ship with the rest of you.” Eight’s plan was simple enough yet littered with holes and Nine punched another one in it.

“Fine, but how do you plan to escape the MoNITOR fleet?”

“MoNITOR fleet?” Ninety-Nine asked.

Nine rolled his eyes, irritated anew by their absent knowledge. “Shorthand for Mobile Networked Industrial and Tactical Operative Resources. Mechanical support drones. During the War of the Begotten, the AdvISOR developed them to perform maintenance in the neutral zones. Places where the warring factions were prohibited from sending people. Grand Cross will be crawling with them by now.”

Exasperated, Eight replied, “I don’t know. We’ll have to figure it out when we get there.”

“This plan sounds shaky,” observed Null, understating her opinion.

“Time to make a decision. The transport is almost here,” Ninety-Nine informed the room after seeing that the helicopter was now fully visible on her screen. As she finished speaking it began crossing over the channel separating Rose Garden from Haven. With a few minutes remaining until it arrived, Ninety-Nine didn’t need to run the math to pick the best course of action.

“We have three choices. Either we stay here and the AdvISOR will eventually come to us or we can take this opportunity to flee. Our chances of survival are exponentially reduced both ways,” Ninety-Nine’s terse reduction of their position to the simplest terms had the desired effect.

“And the third?” Nine inquired.

“We follow Eight’s plan. Seven and Eight take the transport to Grand Cross. We approach by sea and evacuate them after they retrieve Twenty,” Ninety-Nine surmised. She did not bring up the small mechanical army, the murderous allergen cloud, or the extensive knowledge that the AdvISOR possessed. Hopelessly outmatched however they tried to handle it, the survivors would be rushing headlong into danger once again.

“Think of the gaps in the plan as ample space to customize it,” Seven joked.

“It’s not one of our plans unless it sounds insane,” agreed Nine.

“We all leave or none of us do,” Null said.

Together, the five survivors committed themselves to the task of rescuing Twenty and assembled in a small circle at the center of the room. Ninety-Nine knew that her permanent end might be at hand, that the AdvISOR might kill them and destroy Rose Garden for their defiance.

This would be the defining moment of their lives. Whatever the future held, the survivors of Haven’s fall would gladly meet it.