Chapter 8

It was like trying to crawl up from a black hole, the shadows of my own mind trying constantly to pull me back under. Just opening my eyes were a fight, and by the sounds around me I knew it was a fight that brought attention. Too many sounds, chaotic... Footsteps on metal, too many footsteps, too many voices. I swallowed hard and felt how parched my throat was, trying for a moan but giving up a groan.

I saw Peter as I started to make sense of the blurry shapes around me. Peter, and Tina, and Sonya... and Liz. And other people, uniforms, weapons... military. I was on a cot of some sort, and my neck still hurt, but I fumbled upwards trying to get up, get out, get away, a sudden panic striking me as I couldn't understand where and when or why I was here. The held me down and I fought weakly until I noticed Peter helped them. I looked into his eyes, trying to formulate a question I didn't think I could even articulate at the time.

He interrupted me with a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry Nemo, we are all in good hands. The escape route brought us right into the hands of your people... your family. Officially you died in the explosion... you don't exist any more."

Sense, no sense, make sense... Balance seemed off even though I was on my back. I tried again to speak but my dry lips only brought forth groans and grunts. Liz put her hand on my other shoulder and looked me in the eyes. I could see concern in there. Liz... they found Liz?

"We got everything covered Nemo, don't worry. You're not even supposed to be able to wake up for another couple of hours, much less move around... stop being a stubborn patient and let the nice doctors here do their jobs, okay?"

Okay, doctors, yeah... of course. All planned in advance, doctors waiting to take care of me when I got out from the bunker... The best doctors. Doctors that could take care of my neck. My eyes snapped open as I remembered the operation. A basic AI model, embedded in my neck, as I lay there relaxing it's small electric tendrils were slowly creeping around inside me connecting to neural networks and areas of my brain. I shivered, but I don't think it was as much from the cold as from the thought of small things moving in my head. All I could feel though was a dull ache.

'Hello', I thought, trying to see if I could reach a connection with the AI I knew was in there somewhere... 'Hello?' Nothing. Silence.

I fell back into the darkness and dreamt. I saw a large battlefield, grey stones and grey dust. On a hill stood an older version of myself, as a general on a battlefield. I saw sadness in his eyes, but there was a fire in there as well. Hatred, anger, devotion... I didn't know what. He raised a sword in his hand and I heard the sound of drums in the background. Then suddenly he dropped his arm, and legions of children armed with sticks and stones charged across the field into enemy fire. It was all over in seconds, and only dead gray bodies left as a memory of the slaughter. The enemy had never even had to show themselves, just taken shots out of secure cover, mowing the attackers down as... weeds.

I could see flowers amongst the dead bodies, covered by the stone dust and splattered with the blood of innocents. Suddenly there was a young girl picking the flowers into a bouquet, blood dripping from it down over her hands but she seemed not to notice or care. I recognized her... Wasn't that... the AI?

As if my thought brought through the last connection she stared right at me, and spoke without moving her lips.

<I don't like your dreams much, Nemo. They're scary.>

I awoke with a start, all covered in sweat, and I think I might have screamed. A typical doctor came over to me and gave me a quick examination with the light in the eyes and the blood pressure and the entire thing, or as much of it that could be done when I was lying down.

"Mr Smith, I am Doctor Wachowskjii, it is an honour to finally meet you. I am glad to say your recovery is well ahead of projections, and in about an hour you could probably stand up with some help. This will aid us much in the transportation."

I stared at him for a while and then nodded. Of course, transportation... Since there was obviously a route between this base and the previous one, this location was no longer secure. Sooner or later my enemies would track down the tunnel and even if it was blocked they could use different techniques to determine where it had gone. Suddenly the frantic activity around me took on a different meaning. The entire base was getting moved, all important equipment loaded in freight elevators and taken away, all personnel helping out. I saw soldiers setting up charges on strategic places around the room, ready to blow the place as we left. I put my head back down for a moment and closed my eyes.

What the hell was I getting into? Had I just done the mistake of my life? How do I live with a ten year old in my head, if it even works... Oh of course it worked... I had seen her in my dream. Or was it just a dream? If she could see all my dreams, would she see all my dreams? How do I explain a wet dream to a ten year old?

<If you like me to be older I can be.>

"What?" I exclaimed, to the surprise of those around me. The doctor immediately shone his light in my eyes again and his jaw dropped. He slowly shook his head.

"Mr Smith, I think that was the AI speaking to you. No need to speak out loud, just think to it. It will take some practice. And... I just have to say, that is some remarkable recovery. It usually takes up to a week before a bodycom is bonded enough to send messages to its owner."

I relaxed, took some deep breaths and closed my eyes, concentrating again.

<Computer? AI? Are you there? I don't even know what to call you.>

It feels strange when something giggles inside your head, sort of like a tickle on the inside of the cranium. Not entirely unpleasant, but definitely freaky.

<Just call me Cassie, your daddy always did.>

I considered it for a moment. Sure, Cassie it was then, no need to confuse her.

<Okay Cassie, what did you mean you can be older for me?>

<Your daddy felt uncomfortable when I looked and sounded grownup, it was hard for him to teach me simple concepts when I seemed so grownup... So he reprogrammed me to look and sound like his younger sister, so he would feel more at ease teaching me stuff.>

"My father had a sister?"

I realized I had spoken out loud again and smiled apologetically before repeating the question inwards. <Colonel Mathewson had a sister? I have an aunt?>

<Daddy said so.>

<You call Colonel Mathewson 'Daddy', but you're built on a picture of his sister... why is that?>

<Daddy's parents died when he was young, and he took care of his much younger sister. She used to call him Daddy, so I do as well. Do you want me to call you daddy?>

I was stunned. Every time I thought I knew where this was going new strangeness jumped back at me. Having my ten year old aunt in my head calling me dad would surely send me to the loony bin.

<No... No that's all right. You can call me Nemo, or... something. But... I admit it's kind of freaky having my father's ten year old sister in my head. How do you... get older?>

<Is this better?>

Her voice had filled out, become mature and attractive. A bit too mature I'd say... She sounded like a phone sex operator. Although an attractive idea, I didn't think I'd be able to live with that voice without having a perpetual hard on.