From: rauser@fraser.sfu.ca (Richard John Rauser)
Subject: Contact 2  (REPOST)
Organization: Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, B.C., Canada
Date: Mon, 27 Jul 1992 00:58:52 GMT





                   Contact 2





a story by Rick J. Rauser
(c) 1992 by RJ Rauser and WNI     
a Who Needs Isabella publication   

this story is dedicated to everyone who enjoyed the first one, especially
those of you who emailed me about it. I appreciate your comments.





"That's their population control...it doesn't care who it kills."
                                -Jill from _Hardware_

"Machines don't understand sacrifice, and neither do morons."
                                 -Chief from _Hardware_    





       "Michael?"
       "Yes?"
       "Is there something you aren't telling me?" 
       I glanced at Carly, taking my gaze from the eternal wasteland
around us. The ATV continued to rumble along happily on autodrive. 
       "What do you mean?" I wondered how well she could read me, if she
could see that I was hiding my fear of her.
       Her expression seemed genuinely pained. "I get the feeling that
there's something you're holding back. Something you won't tell me, or,"
she turned away and looked out the window, "something you _can't_."
       "What about you, Carly?" I said, a trace of annoyance in my voice.
"You got anything hidden in the old secrets box?"
       She turned and looked at me, her beautiful green eyes shining with
confidence. "No."
       I shrugged. "Okay."
       The ride was long and quiet.

       When I saw her again I wanted to ask her to forgive me because
I knew that I had been unfair and hadn't even asked her about her credit
card. Carly was there in the room and I smiled at her and told her I was
sorry and that I loved her. There were fish in a fishtank there but for
some reason there was something not right about them. Then Carly pulled
me to her and I kissed her and our tongues met and she pulled my shirt
off and-
       I jerked awake in a cold sweat. The air conditioner was going
full blast, keeping the ATV a cool, comfortable temperature. I shifted
position on the couch and glanced up to the cockpit. Carly was sitting
in the passenger's seat, looking back at me. "Are you all right?" she
asked. "You were talking in your sleep."
       Do you talk in your sleep, Carly? I asked myself. "I'm fine," I said
to her. "Just a strange dream. Not exactly a nightmare, but..." I trailed
off. 
       She paused. "We've both been through a lot."
       "We sure have," I agreed.
       "According to the nav computer, there's a settlement coming up in about
fifty miles or so." 
       "Big?"
       "Not very. New Phoenix, it's called."
       I frowned. I had never heard of it. I shrugged. "Well, make sure we
dont' stray off course." I had had a different nightmare before awakening
in the factory, something about drifting in space until I died after my
ship got off course. Strange.
       Carly stood up and came back into the passenger compartment and
sat down beside me on the couch. She gently touched my shoulder, then ran
her fingers through my hair. It was electric, it sent chills down my 
spine. I didn't want her to ever stop touching me. I put my fingers on
her hand and kissed it. Then I kissed her, slow and deep, and she melted
against me.
       Do you talk in your sleep, Carly? The question kept running through
my mind. 
       For the time being, I ignored it.

       We drove another twenty miles then decided to shut down the ATV and
get some sleep. The sun was sinking in the horizon and we didn't want the ATV  
rumbling along on autodrive at night. 
       After securing the doors and shutting down the systems I crawled onto
the couch and made myself as comfortable as I could. Carly took the small bed
in the back. 
      She looked at me uncertainly and said, "Michael, I..."
      I looked back at her from the couch.
      "Nothing," she said finally, with disappointment in her voice.
      "Good night, Carly," I said quietly. I wanted to sleep with her so badly
and I didn't think she would mind if I told her. But I didn't.
      "Good night."

      There was a long tunnel and the floor was littered with bones. I was
standing there with my FBI jacket on but I had no gun and I remembered that
I had left it in the ATV when returning from Florida. Carly was standing
a few feet away from me but there was something different about her but
I couldn't quite make out what it was because the tunnel was so dark. Then a
little girl walked up to me and asked me why she had to wait in the cold
room and I glanced up at Carly for the answer but Carly had no eyes, only
cold, red optical lenses and instead of hands there were just wires coming
out of her wrists and I remembered thinking how can she eat with wires 
instead of hands?
      I jumped up, my body drenched in sweat. Outside, the night was dark
and cold. The ATV was silent. 
      I drew the Mongoose from the holster beside the couch on pure instinct,
not even thinking about what I was doing. I spun around and pointed it at
the bed.
      Carly was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me.
      Trembling, I levelled the automatic pistol at her. The Mongoose fired
explosive shells, ten per clip. 
      Carly said nothing, and watched me silently. I could tell she was
naked, and she had the sheet wrapped around her shoulders.
      "I know what you are," I said quietly. "I know you aren't human."
      She started to say something, then stopped. She tilted her head a bit,
considering. Then she asked, "Is that why you point a gun at me?"
      I hesitated. Why was I so afraid of her? I knew she was an android
and that androids were dangerously fast and incredibly strong, but why
did I think Carly posed a threat to me? 
      There was another memory that would account for the fear, if only
I knew what it was.
      I kept the gun pointed at her. "No more lies, Carly," I said. "Tell me
what you are. Why were you back there. Tell me about the children."
      "The children were killed," she said quietly. "They took out their
brains and used their memories for the androids."
      "Like you," I said.
      "Like me."
      I thought for a moment. "What about the limbs? The robotic limbs?"
      She shook her head slowly. "I'm not exactly sure. I think they used
the children for manual labour, implanting computer chips in their heads,
and used the limbs to make them stronger." She paused. "But I don't remember."
      "Don't lie to me," I said, shaking. I hated the fact that she was
lying. But another side of me said that she wasn't.
      "I'm not lying," she said quietly, and I saw tears in her eyes. "The 
memory implants didn't work. I know what I am and where I came from. But
I still see images of this little girl in my head, birthday parties, pet
cats, dollhouses..." she trailed off, and I saw tears streaming down her
cheeks.
      I kept the gun pointed at her. "Who runs that place?"
      She looked up at me and her eyes were shining and she looked beautiful,
so beautiful, and sad, so very, very sad.  
      "The CIA," she said.
      I slowly lowered the gun. Then I dropped it on the floor of the ATV.
It was too much. Just too much. I walked up to the cockpit and slumped down
heavily in the driver's seat. Outside, the night was cold and dark. Thick
black clouds blotted out the stars. 
      I heard Carly moving behind me and I wondered if she was picking up
the gun but I knew she wasn't. And then she was standing beside me, slightly
stooped because of the low ceiling, wearing a t-shirt and shorts from the
one of the ATV's lockers.  
      She hesitated, then sat on my lap and rested her head on my shoulder.  
      I didn't mind. I stared out blankly into the darkness.
      Carly didn't say anything. There was nothing to be said.
      We sat like that for a long time.  
  
      I woke up in that chair, the hot sun shining through the plexiglass.
Carly was still on my lap, cuddled against my chest. It felt good. I glanced
down at her face and saw that she was asleep. I guess she needs to sleep
after all, I thought. 
      I gently shook her awake and we started out for New Phoenix. 
      I didn't feel like talking about children, androids, or the CIA.
      Neither did Carly.

      New Phoenix, when we finally saw it, was a disappointment, to say the
least. It was nothing more than about twenty or so tin shacks tied together
with barbed wire and crude welding. A battered wooden sign at the outskirts
of the village read "New Phoenix, pop.302". Beneath it someone had scrawled
"Have a bad day." 
       The ATV rumbled up to the shacks and I shut it down. I saw about twenty
people approaching us, wearing rags, their faces stricken with dust and grime.
Carly and I looked like aristocrats by comparison. 
        "Should we take the guns?" she asked, uncertain.
        I considered. "No, I'll go out and talk to them. But cover me."  
She nodded and reached for the shotgun, but I handed her the Mongoose instead.
She smiled warmly at me.
        I slid open the door and stepped out of the air conditioned compartment
into the stifling, incredible heat. The orange sky hung heavy all around us,
and thick clouds of grey ash blotted out most of the sun. 
        "Who are you?" someone called out. I turned and saw a large man
clutching an axe. He seemed to be the leader. His hair was long and dirty and
he wore a black bandana.
        "FBI," I said. 
        Everyone laughed. 
        "FBI, huh?" he said, swaggering close to me. His knuckles were white
as he clutched the axe. "I don't think the FBI has a lot a say-so around here."
        I decided it couldn't hurt to be more honest. "I woke up a couple of
days ago in this...factory, about one hundred miles from here. That's where
I got this ATV. I have very little memory of what happened to me, but I
do remember that I was, at one time, with the FBI." 
        He stopped and considered. "Lotta bad things out in that desert."
        "Yes," I said. It then occured to me that these people probably had
no idea what I was talking about. They probably didn't even know what the FBI
was. 
        Carly stepped down and joined me, holding the Mongoose. "We'd like a
place to sleep, and some food and water, if you can spare it. And information."
        The man sized up Carly with a leer that angered me. Then he said, 
"Well, I guess you folks better come on in." 
        Hesitantly, we did so.  The man's name was John.
        
       Within half an hour I discovered two things about these people.
They were hospitable. Although initially they were afraid of us - or at
least cautious - as we spent more time with them that evening we inferred
that they were actually flattered by our presence. The second was that they
were totally ignorant. None of them had left their village since birth
and all they knew of the outside world was that it was dangerous and that
there were strange, "clean" people like Carly and I - that's what he called
us, clean. Probably the most frightening piece of news came from the fact
that one of the older men - Jared, his name was - remembered something about a 
bright flash of light, many years ago, which had been followed by endless
snow, grey snow, falling for months and months.
     John confessed to me later that he didn't know what "FBI" meant, and so
I asked him why he had said that the FBI had no "say-so" in New Phoenix.  
     He laughed and told me that he guessed I meant God, and that by
saying I was FBI, I was saying I was God, and since John knew I wasn't
God, he said that to refute me.
     The FBI, God. It was kind of funny.
     I couldn't help but wonder what John would think of the CIA.

     The offered us a place to spend the night but we decided our ATV would
be more comfortable (and safer). We locked ourselves inside. These people  
seemed friendly, yet I didn't trust them. There was something...unusual.
And even though I knew she could take care of herself, it still bothered me
the way the men looked at Carly.
      We sat on the couch, feeling a bit awkward. Then something entered
my mind, a memory that came back to me all at once, and I smiled in spite
of myself.
      "What is it?" Carly asked.  
      I slowly shook my head, enjoying the memory. I said to her, thoughtfully,
"Close your eyes, and I'll kiss you."
      She smiled and closed her eyes. But I didn't kiss her. Instead, I 
put my hands on her shoulders, pulled her close to me, and continued.
      "Tomorrow I'll miss you. Remember I'll always be true."
      She opened her eyes and looked at me, slightly confused. "Is that a
poem?"
      "And when while I'm away, I'll write home every day, and I'll send
all my loving to you."
      Her face glowed. I gently pulled her even closer, until our faces
were only inches apart. "I'll pretend that I'm kissing the lips I am
missing, and hope that my dreams will come true," I continued.       
      "And when while I'm away," Carly said quietly, "I'll write home
every day, and I'll send all my loving to you." 
      "Right," I said. I felt weak being so close to her. She was
stunning. Her beautiful green eyes, her full red lips, her beautiful
auburn hair, her smooth, perfect skin. "It's a song."
       "Who wrote it?"
       "I don't remember." I hesitated, then kissed her, and did my best
to show her that although I didn't write the words, I meant them with
all my heart.

       There were doubtless times in Shakespeare's life when he would
awake with a burst of inspiration and hurriedly write down a brilliant
line that had occured to him in his sleep, or perhaps Einstien had
moments of insight when he suddenly realized a key aspect of his
formulas and physics which put all his other problems into perspective.
This was exactly what happened to me later that night when I awoke
in the darkness. I got off the couch and glanced back at Carly, who
was still sleeping soundly in the bed. 
       Why would the CIA make androids? The question had passed through
my mind before but I had never really considered it. But it was so
obvious. Carly, although undoubtably brilliant, was not educated. After
all, hadn't they tried (and failed) to give her a child's memories
and make her unaware of her true origins and identity?
       Her main attributes were physical. Androids were strong, and fast,
and tough. Very tough. An android could snap an ordinary person's neck
and not even break a sweat.
       My knowledge of the CIA was coming back to me slowly, but in large
fragments, and I knew what the CIA needed powerful androids for. Not for
breaking down the doors of drug dealers, like the DEA, or investigating
federal offenses, like the FBI.
       The CIA needed assassins. 
       I looked back at Carly as she slept so soundly, so peacefully.  
I wondered how many killing techniques she had had programmed into her
brain, how many different ways she could break my neck without my
even knowing it. I wondered if she could kill someone with a pen, or
a paperclip, or a sheet of paper.
       Human CIA agents could do that. Carly would certainly be able to
do much more.
       Should I ask her about assassination? Perhaps she didn't even
remember it. 
       Perhaps she did.
       I thought about it for at least an hour, and kept wanting to wake
her up and ask her about it, but decided against it.
       I went back to sleep.

       My back to the wall, I kicked open the door. "FBI, drop it!"
       The woman pointed her gun at me and I fired, putting two bullets
through her heart. I entered the house and glanced around. I heard my
fellow agents coming through the back door on the other side. 
        "BASTARDS!" I half-turned in time to see a huge man, stinking
of alcohol, lunging at me from the kitchen. He slapped the gun out of
my hand and we landed heavily on the floor. I went straight for his eyes
but he was too fast and pinned my wrists down. 
        Then a gun was pressed to his face. It was Rasquez. "Just give me
a reason, Sammy," he said with complete sincerity. Sammy Johnson - he named
himself after the poet - the leader of the largest kiddie porn ring on
the West Coast, froze. Three more agents pulled him off of me.
       The rest of the house was secured in seconds. I went back outside.
       Three of the children that had been locked in the basement were
outside talking to some of the agents. I went up to a little girl who
looked about eight or nine. She was sipping some hot chocolate one of
the female agents gave to her (I couldn't remember the agent's name) 
and sobbing quietly. 
       "Are you all right?" I asked her.
       "Yes," she said in a small voice. Then she said, "I kept asking God
to send someone to help me and he did."
       I looked at the female agent and we both smiled. "Yes, I guess he
did, didn't he?" I said.
       A shot jerked me awake. Automatic weapons. Is Carly real or part
of my dream? What about the...
       I fell off the couch and landed heavily on the floor of the ATV.
I was back in the future. Outside, the darkness of the night was being
shattered by automatic gunfire. 
       Carly was already beside me. "What's going on?" she said, sounding
worried. But not afraid. I grabbed the Mongoose and moved to the cockpit,
keeping my head down. 
       Outside I saw three jeeps outlined in the darkness, each with a
bright spotlight and a laser cannon mounted on the back. I heard a 
helicopter somewhere above but couldn't see anything. More lights were
shining down from the sky.
       Moving through the tin shacks of New Phoenix I saw at least a
dozen men in uniforms with machine guns, mowing down everything in sight.
Women. Children. I saw a man lunge at a guard with an axe before being
cut apart and I was certain it was John.
       I heard laughter. Laughter.
       "Carly," I whispered, my voice hoarse.
       "Don't move," she advised. "They'll kill us if we get in the way."
       Then I saw flamethrowers and the shacks were on fire, an amazing
series of blazes that lit up the night. 
       Then there was a pounding on the hatch. "Come out with your hands
up," a serious voice said.
       I looked at Carly. "What do you think?" I was scared. She was calm.
       "If they were going to shoot at us, they would have done it by
now, I think," she said.
       I hesitated, then walked to the main hatch and kicked it open.
I held the Mongoose at my side. A powerful light was shone in my face.
       "Drop the gun," the voice said.
       I did so.
       "Who are you?"
       "FBI," I said.
       "The FBI was disbanded years ago," the voice said, patiently.
       "All I remember is that I'm FBI. I woke up in the factory about
a hundred miles from here."
       A pause. "What about the woman?"
       "Her too." 
       Silence. I could barely make out muffled discussion amongst the
soldiers (I assumed, for no good reason, that they were soldiers).
      Then the voice said, "All right, get back in the ATV and keep
the door shut. We'll be finished here in five minutes. You aren't 
psions so we have no business with you."
      I started to ask another question but the soldiers moved off,
just like that.
      The gunfire was dying down now.
      I could barely make out some of the jeeps driving away into the
darkness. The spotlights were going out, one by one.
      I heard roaring fires and the occasional snapping of gunfire.
      But no more voices. No cries of pain.
      I was completely stunned, numbed, paralyzed.
      "Let's close the door," Carly said gently, "and get out of here."
      "Carly, we..."
      "They'll kill us too, Michael, if we get in the way. They aren't
going to leave anyone alive here. There's nothing we can do." She spoke
in a gentle, reassuring whisper.
      Deep down inside, I knew she was right.
      We closed the door. Clank.
      Outside I heard explosions. Boom.
      I sank to the floor of the ATV and stared into the darkness.
      Carly sat beside me and put her arm around me.
      We were alone in the darkness.
      Our friends outside were being slaughtered by the enemy.

      There was nothing left. The fire had destroyed everything. I saw
a few charred skeletons and endless piles of burnt scrap but nothing
else. 
      The faint orange blur in the horizon was just starting to poke
through ash-laden clouds. I looked back at Carly. "We did the wrong thing,
hiding like we did."
      "No we didn't," she assured me in a gentle voice. "If we had tried
to interfere, we'd be dead too."
       "I'd rather die on my feet than hide on my knees."
       She took a step towards me. "Don't talk like that," she said
ernestly. "I don't want to lose you...to lose us."
       "Psions," I said quietly, more to myself than her. "Is that illegal
now? What the hell is happening? The FBI disbanded?"
       But I knew what had happened. The flash of light, years ago.
       "We have to go, Michael," she said quietly, gently touching my 
arm."  
       "Yeah." But where?

       Two hours later we were driving through the desert once more.
It was Carly who first noticed the helicopter. It was flying behind us,
low to the ground, about 200 yards or so back. 
       "I guess they decided they do have some business with us after 
all," I said, not really surprised. Nothing would surprise me anymore.
       Then I saw two more, off to the right. 
       "Stop your vehicle, turn off the engine, and come out with your
hands raised," a voice said over our radio.
       I looked at Carly. "I'm not stopping, Carly."
       "I don't want you to," she said. She put her hand on mine and
squeezed it gently.
        There was a cliff about ten miles away which extended on both
sides for about fifty miles. There were four more helicopters now.
Whatever had changed their minds about us was obviously something
significant. Of course the thought passed through my mind. Was it Carly
they wanted?
        I didn't really care. Because I wanted her too.
        We kept driving. I hit the throttle and we roared through that
dusty ground, kicking up pebbles and small cacti.
        "What are we going to do?" she asked me.
        "I honestly don't know," I replied. I looked over at her. "I'm
sorry, Carly."
        "You don't have anything to be sorry about."
        The voice kept demanding we stop and I turned off the radio. 
        It wasn't long before the cliff was before us and I slammed on
the brakes.
         Two of the helicopters set down and the other five hovered
around us. I stared in dismay as four armed guards got off one of
the helicopters. I wasn't really surprised to see the CIA crest on
the side door as they climbed out.
        "Don't stop, Michael," Carly said softly. I saw tears in her eyes.
        "What?" I stared at her, amazed.
        "It's me they're here for. But I don't want to give in to them."
        "Carly, I..."
        She gently touched her hand to my mouth. "I want you, and I want
us to be together. Any way we can."
        I took her hand in mine and kissed it. The guards were closer
now, carefully approaching the ATV. "Are you sure?"
        "Yes, Michael," she said, and a peaceful smile came across her
face. 
        "Close your eyes..." I said quietly. She did so.
        I squeezed her hand then kissed her. 
        Then I pressed the accelerator. I just had time to see a look
of horror and shock on the face of one of the guards before we sailed
over the cliff. Then we were flying, flying to a place where there were
no children in pain, no assassins, no guns, no fires, and no CIA.
        I love you, Carly, I thought. I knew she knew.
        Close your eyes and I'll kiss you...
        Tomorrow I'll miss you...
        Remember, I'll always be true...
        And when while I'm away,
        I'll write home every day,
        And send all my loving to you.




--
Richard J. Rauser    Holli Would If She Could
rauser@sfu.ca
WNI                         Cool World

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