Blue-eyed Miracle - 8. The Messenger

Day 29

As soon as I was on board last night, Captain Bristow informed me the Persephone’s course was plotted to reach CNUP-15–the planet where I met Chris. Or where I thought I met him. According to Captain Bristow, we’ll be there in no time, so she’s called for a meeting this morning to layout the mission’s plan.

My room on board is a comfortable one. Not a big one, but it has its own restroom and shower, which makes it somewhat a luxury. The bed is definitely comfortable and I don’t know what they use for their laundry because it smells fresh and clean.

The crew has been very kind, but I’ve mostly kept to myself during the few hours the trip has taken. I’ve honestly been avoiding contact with them, because I don’t want to be questioned about my motives; I already feel like I’m losing my mind and I don’t want anybody else to reinforce that notion.

As I put my jacket on, I double check on the key around my neck out of habit.

As I come out of my room I run into Swift, the little man.

“Ready for the meeting, huh?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Follow me, Sergeant.”

When we arrive in the Captain’s office, most of the crew are already around, save for the pilot.

“Sergeant,” Captain Bristow says, “Glad you could join us.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Let’s get started. Missdon?”

Hadzaana Missdon, the tall and athletic woman who happens to be the First Hand of the ship, taps some commands on the Captain’s desk. A holographic representation of the Paradisian Cruiser Messiah comes to life.

“Here’s the entering hatch,” she says pointing at the port section of the holographic structure, “Sergeant Ni’sugah has been provided with the access code to unlock it.”

All eyes turn to me and I nod, hoping the access code I remember from my non-corporeal experience is the right one.

“Based on schematics of the derelict ship we were able to access, the places of interest are as follows. Here,” she says pointing to the aft section of the ship, “on the first deck, there’s the kitchen and serving areas. O’Malley, you’ll go with Stewart to make an inventory of whatever edible stuff we can take.”

Merrilyn Stewart, the young red-haired cook smiles. O’Malley only grunts as he nods.

“On the second deck, there’s Engineering,” she says pointing to starboard bow, “Aodhagán, you’ll conduct your search there, since it’s your area of expertise.”

“Aye, sir!” The shy engineer replies.

“Sickbay and a couple of laboratories are also located on deck two right to starboard quarter. Melaree, you and Aodhagán will follow the same path and then split. Since medicine is one of the most expensive things out there, Captain Bristow is placing Priority One on your search.”

“Ok,” the doctor says.

“Shall you run into valuables that might require our attention,” the captain says now, “a second visit to the ship might ensue. Same goes to all of you.”

All of them nod and it becomes clear this crew is accustomed to following the captain’s orders.

“I’ll be working on the ship’s armory and Sergeant Ni’sugah will be left alone to conduct his personal search. I understand that he will be mainly moving in the passenger area which is located in this area on decks three and four.”

I grin and nod.

“Is there any question so far?” Missdon asks.

It seems to be a negative from everyone, so Missdon carries on.

“We’ll be working with standard Zero-G environmental suits, so our oxygen supply will be that of around seventy five minutes. You understand we don’t want to take any unnecessary risks, so any finding worth of attention we will bring to Captain Bristow’s knowledge. Do I make myself clear, people?”

We all nod.

“Then, this meeting is adjourned,” Captain Bristow says.

Each member of the crew stands up and starts walking out of the captain’s office.

“Sergeant Ni’sugah,” she says, “a moment please.”

I go back to sitting down and look at her.

“Yes, captain.”

“I just wanted to say Vince, my accountant, has confirmed the cred transfer to our account in full.”

“Yes, captain, that is correct.”

“We’d agreed on fifty as a down payment and fifty when the job’s done. Why did you make the full transfer?”

“I … um ….”

“Please, feel free to speak your mind.”

“I just didn’t know what the outcome of this enterprise would be, and I thought ….”

“You thought if anything happened to you, you wouldn’t have been able to pay in full, is that it?”

“Yes,” I reply with an idiotic grin on my face.

“Well,” she says, “thoughtful of you, but I have a crew willing to protect my clients with their very own life. So don’t worry, Sergeant, you’re coming out of this one alive.”

“Your assurance is refreshing, Captain.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. That’ll be all.”

I leave the captain’s office with my spirits high. We’ll be arriving in CNUP-15 in around three standard hours. I’ve never felt more optimistic in my life.

***************

It’s been a long time since I last wore a Zero-G suit, so I feel slightly uncomfortable as the speeder makes its way to the derelict cruiser I’ve seen only in my dreams.

Dreams?

When the speeder comes to a halt, we all jump from it. It’s six people in the group: Aodhagán, O’Malley, Missdon, Stewart, Melaree and me. I’m the one to approach the opening pad since I’m the one who knows the code … if the code from my vivid dream is indeed the correct one.

I type the code and, after a few seconds, the pad blinks green. The hatch opens and, before I can walk in, Missdon stands before me blocking the entrance.

“Just to remind you we have a good hour and fifteen minutes before our oxygen supply starts becoming scarce. We’ll regroup here in forty five minutes so we can go back to the Persephone. Whatever discovery that might need our attention, will be discussed on board with Captain Bristow if a second trip is needed as I previously instructed. Everyone clear on that?”

We all nod.

“Good. Let’s move people!”

“Lights!” I command, but nothing happens.

“Too good to be true,” Missdon says, “Headlights everyone!”

Each crew member lights their helmets, and Aodhagán helps me bring mine alive.

“Time’s running,” Missdon says, “let’s make every minute count!”

With that said, we make our way inside the cruiser and each of us takes his own path. I move on to deck three following the directions Chris gave me. The place doesn’t look anything like in my vivid dream. Somehow, the image Chris gave me was an embellished one. The real Messiah is far more mistreated than its dream version. The aisle, however, follows the same path, so I very quickly reach my destination: Chris’ quarters.

The place is exactly as I remember it from my vivid dream though I can’t tell if it’s tidy, since I’m lighting my way with the helmet lamp. The picture of his mother holding him is right in front of me over the chest of drawers. I take it and hold it against my chest before placing it inside the suitcase I brought with me.

I open the chest of drawers next. There are some of Chris’ clothes still folded inside. I take a pair of slacks, his favorites. I hold them to my face, but his scent seems to be long gone. I take most of his clothes and place them inside the suitcase.

I try and imagine what his life must have been like here, on his own, but somehow I don’t know how much of what I experienced with him was actually true.

I turn around and walk towards the bed. There, on the pillow, a folded piece of paper awaits. Afraid of what it might be, I take it in my hands and open it. It’s Chris’ handwriting.

I knew you’d come.

The paper falls from my hands as a sink to my knees.

I’m breathless.

Suddenly, the oxygen inside my suit doesn’t seem enough. There’s no way this letter could’ve been written by Chris. Not since the crash. Not four years before we met. Or is there?

I can’t process the fact of this letter even existing. Am I really losing my mind? If he wrote this letter … does that mean he knew I’d come? But how could he have known? I can’t think of any possibility to make it plausible. What is Chris really? Some sort of prophet? A kind of clairvoyant?

I try and breathe to calm down, but I don’t think I’m being successful.

The floor behind me creaks and I know someone from the crew must be behind me. I have to calm down, I cannot let anyone see me like this. I inhale deeply before saying anything.

When I turn around, my blood runs cold. It’s Chris. A younger version of Chris at least. It can’t be. It can’t be him.

“Hello, Robbi,” he says. The voice is slightly similar though higher in pitch. My heart starts beating hard and breathing becomes even more difficult.

He runs to me and hugs me, his short arms around my waist. I can smell him–his scent–but somehow it feels off.

“I knew you’d come,” he says.

“Chris?” I ask him gently breaking our embrace, still unable to believe he’d be this young.

“No. Hermes.”

“Hermes?” I ask kneeling before him.

“I’m Chris’ decoy.”

“What?”

“His decoy. I was designed to take his place to divert attention if necessary.”

“What …?”

He places his hands on my helmet and beams.

“I see it’s healed.”

“What?”

“Your forehead,” he says, “you banged it against your shuttle’s windshield when it crashed.”

“I ….”

“You don’t remember, do you, Robbi?”

“Remember?” Now I’m sounding completely stupid, “Remember what?”

“When you crashed … I watched over you ....” he says.

Even though the pitch of his voice is different and he’s much shorter, he looks so much like Chris it’s mind boggling.

He places his hands on my chest.

“The key,” he says, “I gave you the key.”

“You did?”

“Uhu.”

He looks at me tilting his head slightly and smiles.

“What is it?”

“You are a handsome man. You look more handsome now that you’re healed.”

I still don’t understand where Hermes came from. Is he a clone? Was he engineered? I never knew The Core to have such technology and this boy’s sole existence challenges everything I’ve ever believed in or known to be a fact.

“Is Chris here?” I ask.

“No.”

“His body …?”

“He isn’t dead,” he says walking towards the bed.

“So where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he sits down, “I do know he was never here.”

“Never?” I ask as I stand up.

The more Hermes talks the less I understand. A sympathetic look crosses his eyes and he grins so much like Chris it’s disturbing.

“When his mother left the Core, it was me with her,” he says.

“Why? Was she running from someone?”

“She was.”

“From whom?”

“That’s something I cannot tell ….”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know.”

“How come you’re still here? I’d imagine you’d have the means to get off-planet.”

“I’ve been programmed to overcome all sorts of eventualities, so yes, I could’ve gone a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He looks down and beams.

“Chris knew you’d come. So I stayed.”

“How … how could he have known? We’d never met … I ….”

“He knew nonetheless.”

Hermes stands from the bed and walks towards the back of the room. He opens a closet. From there, he retrieves a metal briefcase. He sits back on the bed and extends the briefcase in my direction.

“This is for you.”

I walk towards him and take the briefcase in my hands.

“What is this?”

“The answers you’re seeking, Robbi.”

A tense silence grows between us.

“Please,” I tell him, “Don’t call me Robbi.”

“Why?”

“It’s … painful.”

“Painful?”

“You sound so much like him it hurts.”

“I thought hearing him would make you happy.”

“It’s just strange that you’re so much like him. And it is good to hear his voice, but ….”

“But I’m not him,” he says nodding his head in understanding.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. And yes I’m a lot like him, I am supposed to be. I was made in his image, remember?” he grins, but there’s a sadness to his smile.

“Are you alright?”

“I am. It’s just so good to talk to someone after all this time,” he says and sighs, “It’s been too much silence already.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Not your fault, so don’t feel guilty. I was always loyal to Chris.”

“Were you?”

“I was programmed to be. And then I grew fond of him. All his memories are with me. All his happiness, his sadness, his most cherished moments. Even those of you.”

“What’s in this briefcase?” I ask abruptly changing the subject.

“I told you, answers.”

I nod.

“Now,” he says with a certain melancholy in his voice, “I have to go to sleep.”

“What are you talking about, Hermes? Come with me, there’s no need for you to remain alone. Not anymore.”

“There’s no point, Robbi. My life is coming to an end.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a third generation Link 7 android, manufactured when Chris was twelve, and programmed with a lifespan of three years.”

“But it’s been more than three ….”

“A bit over four,” he says interrupting me.

“So how did you ….”

“I spent some time in sleep mode, waiting for your arrival. Then I used some of my reserves to care for you after the crash and before the Core soldiers collected you.”

“So, you’re dying?”

“I’m not sure you can call it that, but yes, my battery is extinguishing now.”

He has closed his eyes and now lies still on the bed.

“Hermes,” I say kneeling before him.

“Could you hold me in your arms?” he asks with teary eyes, “just once?”

Can an android feel? I never knew an android could cry, but I don’t think twice, I take him in my arms and he whispers in my ear.

“Chris knew you’d come and I’m happy I’ve accomplished my mission, Robbi ….”

“Thank you, Hermes,” I say, but he doesn’t reply.

I notice his artificial warmth is fading away and I also become aware of the fact that he isn’t moving anymore. I guess this is it for him. I know he’s an android, but I still say a prayer for him.

I am even more confused than before. I can’t fathom how Chris could’ve known I’d come four years before I even crashed on the planet.

“Sergeant Nisugah,” I hear behind me.

There, on his Zero-G suit, Aodhagán stands by the doorframe holding a bag with things I imagine he has collected.

“Aodhagán,” I say.

“We’re pretty much done inventorying. Wait,” he says with eyes open wide, “Is that ….”

“Not him. An android.”

I place the now lifeless boy back on the bed.

“I know! I was gonna ask if it is a Link 7.”

“How can you tell?”

He doesn’t reply. He leaves the bag on the floor and moves as quickly as the uncomfortable suit allows him to. He stands before Hermes.

“The proto-skin in any droid before Link 7 had a very particular coloring. Not quite natural. It was one of the defects that a trained eye would almost immediately find and what made Linkage Incorporated recall every android before Link 7. This model’s proto-skin is a work of art, so definitely a 7.”

Hearing the engineer refer to Hermes as an it, as a model, feels somewhat wrong, but I don’t say a thing.

He touches the android’s arms as if looking for something.

“It also must be third or fourth generation because of the consistency. His proto-skin is still synthetic. Anything from fifth generation on was suited with bio-synthetic tissue.”

I nod as if I understood what he’s talking about.

“I’d never seen one first hand,” he says enraptured.

“He’s gone,” I tell him, “something about his lifespan.”

“Too bad!”

He stands and faces me. “Did you find what you needed?”

For an answer, I show the briefcase.

“Good. We’re going back to the ship now.”

He walks towards the door. I follow him, turning one last time to look at the android, which seems to be placidly sleeping on the bed. He has brought more questions to my already troubled mind. I just hope the briefcase will shed any light on my blue-eyed miracle.

 

***************

Back in my quarters on board The Persephone, I take time studying the briefcase. I find a little button on the underside of it and I click it. The upper part slides back and then it opens.

It’s not a briefcase, but a sort of personal computer. This is so high-tech and most definitely not Core technology. What was Chris’ mother, some sort of spy? Why would she have been in possession of such an artifact? And what kind of money would it have taken to have bought an android as sophisticated as Hermes?

The writing is Athruvian and I’m glad I’m partially familiar with the language.

I push the power button and wait. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to start up. It’s a dark screen with an unfamiliar environment, but I can tell it’s an operative system.

The phrase ‘Load files?’ in the Athruvian language appears before my eyes and I tap enter.

A set of files sorted by date appear before my eyes. I imagine this must be some sort of personal log. I tap on the first one and the file opens. These are characters I’ve never seen before.

Before I have time to try and find out what this language might be, a new message in Athruvian appears.

Enter decryption code.

I bang my fist against the wall in an outburst just at the same time as my door chime rings. I go to the door and pull the leaver that opens it. Aodhagán appears before me.

“Sergeant,” he says, “am I being inopportune?”

“Please, Aodhagán, come in,” I say opening my door wide.

“Call me Jay,” he says not looking me in the eye.

I sit on the bed and I offer him the only chair the room has.

“Tell me Jay, what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to inform you that Captain Bristow has decided for some of us to go back to The Messiah for salvage reasons tomorrow morning.”

“I see.”

“She’s wondering if you’d like to join us.”

“I might. I’m not sure yet, I’m trying to ….” I trail off and look at the high tech computer on the desk.

“Got what you wanted?” he asks with eyes open wide looking at the item.

“Can’t yet. It’s encrypted.”

“Can I ….?” He asks and I nod.

He sits in front of the item and studies it for some minutes. He doesn’t speak but I don’t want to break his concentration. His hands fly on the keyboard as fast as his eyes fly over the screen. I have no clue what he’s doing, so I let him work his magic.

After a few tense minutes, he stops typing and turns to face me.

“This is a highly sophisticated encryption, Sergeant,” he says, “I could try and break it if you want me to, but I’ll need more time.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose ….”

“Oh, you wouldn’t!” He says smiling shyly, “I really like a good challenge! And … I’ll need Captain Bristow’s authorization.”

“I’ll talk to her about it, Jay, thanks. Make sure you tell me how much you’ll charge for it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” he says.

“But you should,” I insist, “that’s no easy task and I wouldn’t feel comfortable if I used up your time.”

“Okay,” he says.

“I’ll talk to Captain Bristow this afternoon. Thanks, Jay.”

He grins and then walks out of the room. I’m really hoping he’ll be able to help me break the encryption or this trip would’ve been for nothing. I have a lot of questions that need an answer and I’m not gonna stop now. Whatever Chris is, whatever happened to him, he’s counting on me.

 

***************

The warmth of his lips on mine makes me smile. I know I’m dreaming, but I try and ignore that fact when I feel him cuddling next to me.

“Hello, baby boy,” I whisper.

“Hi, Robbi,” he says with his head on my chest.

“Are you alright?” I ask noticing the sadness in his voice.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I say and kiss his forehead, “It’s been some time now since you last visited me in my dreams.”

His hand runs freely through my chest.

“I love you, Chris,” I whisper in his ear.

“I know. I now know you do love me.”

He faces me and his beautiful bright blue eyes stare into my soul.

“The letter ….” I say.

“Shhh,” he says and kisses me.

I open my eyes, but the bed next to me is still warm. I stand from the bed, my alarm clock says 0300 hours.

I take a piece of paper from my briefcase and a fountain pen. The words start flowing without even thinking about them as my hand forms them on the paper.

 

Somewhere in the darkness,

somewhere in the corner of the universe

where my life was lost,

the threads that hold myself together

got entangled far across...

Mingled with the threads that hold together

your far away existence,

my soul found solace in the knowing

that even through the distance,

there is a shining light upon the skies,

that guides me,

the light of your blue eyes.

And even if the universe conspires

against my never being able to hold you,

do know that through the distance I embrace you,

and kiss you, and think of you, and miss you.

A cosmic thread that has brought us together

and distance won't untangle now or ever,

cause even If I never really hold you,

through time and space there's joy

in knowing that I love you now forever

and that you love me too, beautiful boy.

 

Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I put the pen down. But they’re not tears of sadness. They’re tears of joy for him, for Chris, for the man I love even though I don’t understand this love.

I crush the paper against my chest as I close my eyes and breathe Chris’ scent which still lingers in my head. I love him. ‘Til the day I day, my heart is, and will always be, his.