TITLE: The Mask of the Cobra
AUTHOR: Michael J. Gallagher ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
SYNOPSIS: This is in answer to one of
ZS' challenges
DISCLAIMER: GRA is owned by Tribune; please don't sue me over this. My lawyer would get all the money anyway.
===========================
"To thine own self be true .... as long as you know who you are" --The Anointed of the Way, *Commentaries and Meditations,* compiled CY 10,021
"How's it shakin', Rat?" Harper said, sauntering into one of the *Andromeda's* docking airlocks.
The object of his scorn, Gerentex, the Nightsider with whom he had several scores to settle, was being patted down by Tyr while several force-lance bearing robots stood guard and the rest of the crew looked on.
"Really, Mr. Harper," Gerentex said. "I am mildly disappointed -- though not offended -- by how your High Guard commander's sense of etiquette hasn't rubbed off on you."
"Mr. Harper does have certain .... issues," Dylan said, "with regard to how to express his feelings. But in this instance, I share his sentiments. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again."
"He's clean," Tyr said, stepping back and bringing his hand to the butt of his sidearm.
"'Tis true, Captain," Gerentex said, "yet it is also true that thanks to another member of your ship's company .... " He favored Trance with a look, and she smiled back " .... I was able to clear my debts and make a fresh start. And I truly mean to make amends for the terrible things circumstance forced me to do in the past, beginning with your crew, specifically with Mr. Harper."
"Oh, yeah?" Harper sneered. "You mean you have eighty-four thousand Thrones on you?"
"No," Gerentex answered. "I have 153,227 Thrones -- the principle plus interest. Catch!" He tossed Harper a velvet bag that jingled with coins. Harper peeked inside and couldn't believe it.
"I ..... uh ..... "
"And there is more," Gerentex said. He pulled a small box out of a coat pocket.
"What's that?" Beka asked.
"If I'm not mistaken," Gerentex replied, "the cure for Mr. Harper's Magog infection."
Seven jaws dropped.
"Where .... " Harper finally managed. "Where did you get it?"
"My agents tell me it was developed by Mr. Anasazi's people," Gerentex explained. "I'm told a now-extinct pride developed a technique using nanobots to 'infect' and consume the Magog larvae as they do to their hosts. However, they were never entirely successful because the nanobots have to be constantly reprogrammed to deal with the larvae's response, and the only way to do that was to have an artificial intelligence -- which Nietzscheans, sadly, have no use for -- connected to a biochip network in the patient's brain -- which no Nietzschean would agree to have implanted because it would mean their own brains are not superior."
"But .... " Harper said slowly, "I have biochips connected to my data port; that's how it works."
"And we have an artificial intelligence," Dylan mused.
"And Nietzschean ships on our tail," Rommie said. A holographic tactical graphic appeared in the air in front of them. "They are at extreme sensor range, but they are tailing us."
"Mr. Gerentex?" Dylan asked.
Gerentex looked genuinely surprised. "I don't know, Captain, I honestly don't know. But the treatment is genuine; I had Perseid scholars verify it. It could be all a coincidence."
"Sure," Beka said.
"Please," the Nightsider went on. "I truly wish to make amends. The fact is, Captain Hunt, I read about many of your pre-Fall exploits as a youth; I was a great admirer of yours. I know, trying to kill you was a poor way to show it, but hopefully this will go some small way to make restitution for that."
Dylan took the box from Gerentex (as the tactical graphic vanished). "Mr. Anasazi. Please escort Mr. Gerentex to one of the guest V. I. P. quarters."
"This way," Tyr said gruffly.
"You're not -- I mean -- " Beka said.
"There have been rumors that Gerentex has changed his ways," Rev said.
"I know it's true," Trance said.
"Still .... " Beka went on. "Dylan -- this smells."
"I know, Beka, but the first step in avoiding a trap is knowing of its existence. Mr. Harper! I believe you have your work cut out for you."
*************
Harper, Trance, and Rev spent the rest of the day pouring over the data disk. While Harper didn't recognize all the code, there didn't appear to be any viruses -- and if there were, Rommie's antiviral software could probably handle them. They agreed to do the surgery the next day.
After dinner, Harper pursued the evening's repairs with a spring in his step and a song in his heart, truly happy for the first time in years, if ever. He was even happier when he found Rommie waiting for him in his machine shop/quarters. "Hey, Doll Face! What's happening?"
"Thought you might like this," the *Andromeda's* beautiful android avatar said, holding out a can of Sparky Cola, already opened.
"Gee, thanks!" He accepted the can and downed a few gulps. "Anything else, Babe? Maybe you want to have a party with the Love God?"
"All right."
The song in Harper's heart skipped a beat, tried to restart, was totally out of key, tried to go back to beginning, and gave up, as Harper almost choked on his Sparky.
"Uhm ... uh .... " Harper stammered when he'd stopped coughing. "Uh, Rommie, correct me if I'm wrong, but you just ACCEPTED one of my propositions?"
"Yes."
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes."
"Is this a joke?"
"No; I'm serious."
"Ok .... uh, then -- try not to take this wrong -- but why?"
"Because we really do care for each other a lot, and maybe it's long past time we tried to see if we could have something together. And because you know as well as I this treatment isn't a sure thing."
"No. The larvae could kill me or the nanobots could eat me alive. It's all or nothing, but the odds are still pretty good."
"But not 100%."
"No."
"And if I'm the last person you could ever be with, then I feel I owe it to you to give you that, after all you've done for me."
"Rommie .... "
"Just say, 'Thank you, Rommie; I love you.'"
"Thank you, Rommie; I love you."
"Good boy. Now, c'mere ...... "
******************
By the time Harper fell asleep, they'd agreed they had reason to believe they could have .... something ..... if he survived the treatment.
******************
Dylan did a double-take as Harper and Rommie entered the treatment room .... holding hands. "Uhm ..... is there something I should know?"
"You didn't hear them?" Tyr said, standing guard over Gerentex. "I'm surprised they didn't wake the Vedrans. Tell me, Master Harper, where shall the nursery for little cyborgs be?"
"I dunno," Harper said, lying down on the treatment table. "Storage area fifteen?"
Tyr's face fell. "I am not amused."
"I am. But cheer up, we'll name one of 'em Tyr."
Dylan stayed to the background, his brain having a little trouble with the concept that Rommie had ..... BEEN WITH Harper ... but the way she hovered over him only confirmed it. Trance and Rev attached sensors to his body, and finally, plugged the lead into his data port.
"Ready, Gorgeous?" Harper asked.
"When you are, Honey, but .... " she leaned over and kissed him. "For luck." She put her hand on a nearby control panel; she and Harper closed their eyes.
*************
Harper and Rommie's avatars appeared in the virtual landscape of the *Andromeda's* VR Matrix, overlooking a schematic of Harper's prone body the size of a sky scraper. Control panels and displays appeared in the air in front of them.
"Loading software," Rommie said. "Preparing to -- "
"Rommie, wait," Harper said. "About last night, I just wanted to say --- "
She brought her fingers to his lips. "You can tell me tonight when we celebrate."
He smiled. "Ok, Doll. Tonight." He kissed her again.
"Now, we *have* to get to work," Rommie said; she and Harper turned to the virtual control panels.
*****************
Dylan was reduced to pacing his cage as Harper and Rommie were as still as statues and Trance and Rev bent over readouts. For all the buildup, the actual event seemed anticlimactic. Then Trance perked up. "It's working!" she called to Dylan. "The larvae -- they're dying!"
**************
"Confirmed," the ship's voice said as the Larvae in the schematic of Harper's stomach all turned black. "Magog life cycle interrupted. No life signs detected."
"YES!" Harper shouted; he turned to Rommie, hugging and kissing her with gusto.
"Commencing second phase," the ship went on.
"Second phase?" Harper and Rommie chorused, confused.
In the Harper schematic's head, lightning flashed through his brain in unfamiliar patterns, but before they could make sense of it, *another* virtual Harper appeared next to him, but there were differences between him and the one Rommie knew.
For one thing, he looked younger, maybe a teenager, though he had a beard.
For another thing, he had bone spurs sticking out of his forearms. He was .... a Nietzschean!?
"Andromeda," the Nietzschean Harper said, "engage resurrection protocols. Authorization, Alexander seven seven stroke niner."
"Acknowledged," the ship's voice said.
"Rommie," Harper said, "what -- " He started screaming as his virtual body began to break apart.
"SEAMUS!" Rommie screamed. She reached for him, but his virtual form dissolved as she touched it, breaking into sparks that vanished, one by one, until there was nothing left of the man she loved.
He was gone.
************************
"What .... ?" Trance stammered as klaxons sounded in the room.
"What is it?" Dylan said.
"I don't know .... " Rev began.
"Where did all those extra nanobots come from?" Trance demanded. "And -- Rev, look at his DNA ... !"
"It's rewriting itself .... "
Rommie's eyes popped open. "All of you -- out of here! Now!"
"Rommie, what -- " Dylan started, and the sound of ripping flesh cut him off; his jaw dropped as the bone spurs broke through the skin of Harper's forearms.
"GO!" Rommie shouted.
Dylan, Trance, and Rev went; the hatch closed behind them just as Harper's eyes opened and he sat up, ripping the connections off his person.
"Listen to me -- " Rommie said.
"I no longer have reason to listen to you, Avatar. Ship! Snakebite."
"Acknowledged," the ship's voice said. Rommie fell to the floor as the lights flickered. The Nietzschean who had once been Seamus Harper recovered her force lance, opened the nearest maintenance hatch, and scurried down the conduit.
************
"Beka, report!" Dylan said as the lights flickered. No answer. He looked at his com gauntlet. "Com's down -- "
The deck shook under their feet, in time to an explosion.
" -- and that would mean we're under attack. Tyr! Bring Mr. Gerentex. Trance, Rev, see to Harper."
The first thing Trance noticed was the treatment room's door was locked. She picked it .... and she and the Magog monk found Rommie prone on the floor, Harper nowhere to be seen.
************
"Please tell me you've performed a miracle and driven off our friends," Dylan said to Beka as he, Tyr, and Gerentex entered the Command Center.
"No," Beka said. "The A. I. isn't helping any; our friends took out the slipstream drive and the offensive missiles and just stopped shooting. And who's in the escape pod?"
"WHAT escape pod?" Dylan demanded. He turned to the big main screens, and saw the small pod approach the Nietzschean capital ship and disappear inside it. Then the enemy vessels turned and vanished into a slipstream portal.
"Resurrection protocols completed." Rommie's hologram appeared next to Dylan. "Command of *Andromeda Ascendant* returning to Captain Hunt."
Captain Hunt had had enough. "WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?"
************
There was no trace of the hack in Rommie's systems, not surprising if Harper (or whoever he had become) had done it. Gerentex plead innocent and pledged to use his own resources to find out what had happened, but all that he confirmed was that the same Nietzscheans who had attacked them were the ultimate source of the treatment that had cured Harper.
The answer arrived by courier a week later.
Gerentex joined the crew in command to view the message. Harper's image filled one of the big main screens. Sitting in an ornate chair and wearing the regalia of a Nietzschean alpha male, it looked as if the change was continuing -- he looked more muscular, more powerful than he had been.
"Greetings, Captain Hunt," he said. "It seems strange to say this after knowing you for over a year -- and knowing you for five, Captain Valentine -- but permit me to introduce myself. I am Alexander Romanof of Cobra Pride, out of Amanda by Ceasar. Tyr will recognize my clan as yet another ally the Drago-Kazov Pride betrayed and destroyed, and as with him, my parents were killed. But before they died, they hatched an ingenious way to protect me. I submitted to genetic surgeries and bioengineering to .... devolve me to an ordinary human, and a biochip network was implanted in my brain to suppress my real memories and provide the false of identity of Seamus Harper. Yes, the man you knew never really existed, although we did have a family of human servants named Harper who fled with me to Earth. My surviving kinsmen have labored in secret to rebuild our forces so we can take back what is ours, but I had long since left Earth on the *Eureka Maru* when they came looking for me. When they learned of my condition, they killed two birds with one stone. Yes, we pioneered the treatment for Magog infection, and it has saved my life. My surgeons have removed the dead embryos; I think I'll keep them as momentos of my adventures with you. And obviously, the software also deactivated the biochips and allowed my true persona to emerge.
"It goes without saying that I will not be seeing you again until after my war with the Dragons is won, but I am not ungrateful. You and your crew did me a great service by sheltering me these many months. In return, I instructed my forces not to destroy your ship -- and, of course, if they followed my orders correctly, the damage was quite easy to repair -- and you will find I did not leave any viruses or other surprises in the *Andromeda's* computer system, although I would be disappointed if you took me at my word. But again, I thank you. Good-bye, Captain, and good luck." The screen blanked.
"Well?" Dylan said.
"I'd heard the stories," Tyr said, "but I didn't believe them. Who would believe a Nietzschean would do such a thing to himself?"
"Probably the point," Beka said.
"Avatar," Rommie said, tears running down her cheeks.
"What?" Dylan asked.
"He called me 'Avatar.' Not Rommie or Rom Doll or .... anything. 'Avatar,' with no warmth in his voice, like .... " She started sobbing. ".... like I meant nothing to him, like I meant nothing ..... "
Dylan took her in his arms and held her until she'd cried herself out.
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