wielding such power and my makers wished to ensure it would be controlled by the inhabitants of the worlds we were to find. It is up to you to save yourselves. We are only here to give you the chance to do so.”
“What are the risks?” Sam asked.
“I could die in the attempt. You could lose some aspect of brain function or memories, or both. The odds of either happening are low, but they are possibilities.”
Sam thought about losing memories. There were precious few he’d miss. Nearly all of those were of Elizabeth or Zach. His absolute favorites included both of them, as did his absolute worst. Those memories, however painful in the end, he did not want to lose. His inability to lie to himself reminded him that he was on track to lose memories, good and bad, one way or another if he didn’t change. He knew it. Those who cared about him knew it. Something had to change or the things that hurt the most would ultimately destroy him, just as the events he longed to remember and lived a life destined to make him forget had taken everything that had mattered to him.
He thought about asking about the odds of damage associated with failure for a long time. Adia said nothing, understanding what he was weighing in his mind. In the end, he realized he no longer cared about odds or safety of any kind. He wanted to make a difference again. If the attempt killed him, or left him more maimed than he already was, it would only hasten a process he was already participating in.
“So, my choices are to continue to get to know you and ultimately decide to integrate, or to let you die at some point never having had the chance to really participate in trying to save humanity? I don’t see that I really have a choice. I’m not going to let you die and I’m not sitting this fight out. I could never live with myself if I did. How do we do this?”
Adia told him, and they began to change.
C HAPTER T WELVE
Angela took her hand off the collection of gifts. She’d started this attempt to communicate the same way she’d succeeded in doing so before, by touching the same gift in as close to the same place as her memory and the video recording of the event allowed. Even before she made contact, she knew that something was very different. She had no urge to reach out to the formation, as she had before. It was every bit as physically beautiful as it had been earlier, but it no longer felt alive. She no longer felt as if she was being called upon to have a conversation with what had seemed instantly like an old and trusted friend. It no longer felt as if she was being called upon at all. Still, she’d proceeded with hope and confidence. The fact that AJ and the others had failed to establish communication with the entity she’d more than spoken with was of little concern to her. She was the linguist and she was the one, the only one, it had communicated with so far. Her disappointment at receiving no response at all was profound. She’d made contact with an alien mind, been exposed to a whole new and richer method of communicating, and perceived the desperation and nobility of an entirely different species. For all she knew, she was the only person on Earth to have done so, and now, nothing.
Disheartened, but unwilling to give up, she placed her hand back on the same gift and tried speaking aloud. She did so in every language she knew. She asked questions. She made statements. None of it mattered. Aside from the slight feeling of warmth she felt on contact, warmth belied by thermal measurements proving the gifts were at exactly the same temperature as the surrounding air, again nothing. She pulled her hand away for a second time and settled it on a different gift and tried it all again. No difference. Finally, she took a couple of steps back and activated her microphone.
“Six, this is Leone, negative response, Sir”
“Leone, Six, return to the CP.”
“Wilco." Angela began the short walk back to the command post.
Angela
“What are the risks?” Sam asked.
“I could die in the attempt. You could lose some aspect of brain function or memories, or both. The odds of either happening are low, but they are possibilities.”
Sam thought about losing memories. There were precious few he’d miss. Nearly all of those were of Elizabeth or Zach. His absolute favorites included both of them, as did his absolute worst. Those memories, however painful in the end, he did not want to lose. His inability to lie to himself reminded him that he was on track to lose memories, good and bad, one way or another if he didn’t change. He knew it. Those who cared about him knew it. Something had to change or the things that hurt the most would ultimately destroy him, just as the events he longed to remember and lived a life destined to make him forget had taken everything that had mattered to him.
He thought about asking about the odds of damage associated with failure for a long time. Adia said nothing, understanding what he was weighing in his mind. In the end, he realized he no longer cared about odds or safety of any kind. He wanted to make a difference again. If the attempt killed him, or left him more maimed than he already was, it would only hasten a process he was already participating in.
“So, my choices are to continue to get to know you and ultimately decide to integrate, or to let you die at some point never having had the chance to really participate in trying to save humanity? I don’t see that I really have a choice. I’m not going to let you die and I’m not sitting this fight out. I could never live with myself if I did. How do we do this?”
Adia told him, and they began to change.
C HAPTER T WELVE
Angela took her hand off the collection of gifts. She’d started this attempt to communicate the same way she’d succeeded in doing so before, by touching the same gift in as close to the same place as her memory and the video recording of the event allowed. Even before she made contact, she knew that something was very different. She had no urge to reach out to the formation, as she had before. It was every bit as physically beautiful as it had been earlier, but it no longer felt alive. She no longer felt as if she was being called upon to have a conversation with what had seemed instantly like an old and trusted friend. It no longer felt as if she was being called upon at all. Still, she’d proceeded with hope and confidence. The fact that AJ and the others had failed to establish communication with the entity she’d more than spoken with was of little concern to her. She was the linguist and she was the one, the only one, it had communicated with so far. Her disappointment at receiving no response at all was profound. She’d made contact with an alien mind, been exposed to a whole new and richer method of communicating, and perceived the desperation and nobility of an entirely different species. For all she knew, she was the only person on Earth to have done so, and now, nothing.
Disheartened, but unwilling to give up, she placed her hand back on the same gift and tried speaking aloud. She did so in every language she knew. She asked questions. She made statements. None of it mattered. Aside from the slight feeling of warmth she felt on contact, warmth belied by thermal measurements proving the gifts were at exactly the same temperature as the surrounding air, again nothing. She pulled her hand away for a second time and settled it on a different gift and tried it all again. No difference. Finally, she took a couple of steps back and activated her microphone.
“Six, this is Leone, negative response, Sir”
“Leone, Six, return to the CP.”
“Wilco." Angela began the short walk back to the command post.
Angela
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