“Isn’t this place incredible?” Valeria said, bouncing around the halls of the station in excitement.
“It’s something else,” Bradigan answered as they walked, guided by Captain Vidal. After hearing the particulars from Hoban, they had been granted A.S.R. uniforms to change into being as they were still in their evening wear. Bradigan glanced down at the guest badge that bore his likeness, clipped to his simple and comfortable uniform, and couldn’t help but feeling a little disappointed by it all. The technology present on the station didn’t exactly stand out as “hyper advanced.” It was an observation Valeria had made as well. When she asked Vidal about it, his answer was that the station was designed with efficiency and longevity in mind. Less extraneous features meant less opportunity for breakdowns. They approached a doorway and Bradigan read the placard next to it, Archives.
“We’re here,” Vidal announced. He turned around to address them before going in. “As you can imagine, there’s a lot of sensitive data contained within our memory banks that people of your developmental level shouldn’t have access to.”
Bradigan tried not to feel insulted by that word choice given the context.
“For that reason,” Vidal continued, “we will be granting you limited clearance. You will only be able to access the files pertaining to our research concerning the human cycle. Do not attempt to override the lockouts or you will be detected. Our setup here may look simple but you can’t begin to understand the inner workings.” He leaned in and looked them both in the eye, first Bradigan then lingering on Valeria. “Is that clear?”
They nodded in unison.
“Glad to hear it,” Vidal answered, taking a more relaxed stance. “Commander Hoban has put a certain amount of faith in you. I’d hate to see that go to waste.”
With that, Vidal opened the door. Bradigan went in first, research was his life and he was earnestly excited. The room was filled with computer terminals, a few of them occupied. Bradigan spotted someone in a white lab coat, straightening white gloves, and he followed them with his eyes as they approached a secure door on the opposite side of the room. After a few inputs on a nearby keypad, Bradigan could hear a hissing sound and the door swung open revealing a small chamber with another similar door on the opposite side.
“What’s in there?” he asked.
Vidal stepped up and stood next to him. “I’m sure you’ve already guessed, Doctor,” he said. “That is a Preservation Vault, one of many on the station. This one houses the most extensive collection of antique documents every compiled; hand selected and generously donated by every nation on earth.”
Bradigan’s eyes grew wide at the thought.
“It’s actually one of many vaults on the station,” Vidal continued. “We also have a seed vault, two separate vaults for genetic imprints, one human and one animal, vaults for the arts and sciences . . .”
“May I see them?” Bradigan interrupted.
Vidal shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Doctor. Though I doubt you’d pose any danger to the artifacts, that area is strictly for . . .”
“Authorized personnel only,” Bradigan finished his sentence with a sigh. “Of course.”
Vidal chuckled at his reaction. “Regulations I’m afraid.” He led the pair to the consoles. “Just have a seat before any of these. Mimic will sense your guest badges and give you the proper authorization.”
“Mimic?” Valeria asked.
“Oh, yes. Mimic is the common name of the computer system we use,” Vidal explained. “It was state of the art when we launched, a program designed to mimic the human brain and use intelligence to find information without relying on keywords. Mimic can find what you’re looking for even if you don’t know what it is. Just address the program directly and it’ll respond.”
They thanked the Captain and sat down to delve into the knowledge of a past they had no idea even existed. The terminals powered on of their own accord and displayed a message with accompanying audio greeting, “Welcome, Guest, to the A.S. Guard Knowledge Directory.” The display changed, Assessing Clearance Level . . . Blue(Alt).
“They must use warmer colors for higher clearance levels,” Bradigan supposed.
“Probably,” Valeria agreed. “But look, we’ve even got this ‘alt’ tag. Our special restrictions I guess.” She sighed in annoyance.
The index appeared before them with a wide range of topics, some of them however had seemingly been redacted, the headings left blank. Their individual natures showing, Bradigan went for the information on past civilizations while Valeria focused on the cycle ending disasters.
After a while, Bradigan spoke, “You know, we’ve had evidence of this ourselves but, given the implications, never considered the possibility.”
“What evidence?”
Bradigan looked at her over the console. “Aliens.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”
“You know those unusual artifacts that certain sects claim to prove that advanced aliens visited ancient earth.”
“Like the Istanbul Rocket?”
“Exactly!” The rest of the room took notice of his outburst and, embarrassed, he sunk back into his chair. His next statement was more restrained, “This information could validate certain psuedosciences.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
Valeria’s response thoroughly confused Bradigan. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m just saying some people only take up that kind of research because it’s weird, not because they think it’s real.”
Bradigan blinked. “How did you come to that opinion?”
“Look, it was years ago, I was in college, let’s not talk about it.
Before Bradigan could respond, the door opened again and an armed guard stepped through. Bradigan’s gut reaction was to ask Valeria what she’d done to the computer but a wheelchair was pushed through shortly after carrying a man in shackles. He must have been only a little older than Bradigan with a prison haircut that made his sharp features stand out. Behind him, pushing the chair, was an officer; a muscular man of roughly the same age, with a gun on his hip.
“I’m surprised you requested to take your recreation time so early today,” the officer said in a tone that was equal parts warm and suspicious.
“Yes, there’s a topic I’d like to re-familiarize myself with for my writings,” the shackled man answered.
“I see,” the officer answered simply. He pushed the wheelchair up to one of the consoles and the computer came to life.
The shackled man glanced in Bradigan’s direction and smiled as Mimic announced its user, “Welcome, Locke, to the A.S. Guard Knowledge Directory.”
Bradigan could suddenly feel his heartbeat. He turned to Valeria and she looked back at him knowingly. They communicated wordlessly, Bradigan pressing for them to leave and Valeria urging him to be rational, all the while the sound of the shackled man’s, Locke’s, keyboard clicked away.
“Excuse me,” a voice spoke, interrupting the silent tête-à-tête. It was the officer. “You must be the guests that Commander Hoban brought aboard.” He extended his hand toward Valeria.
“Yes, that’s us,” she said as she rose to her feet. She shook his hand heartily. “I’m Valeria Davis and this is my associate, Doctor Daniel Bradigan.”
“Major Thorne,” the officer replied, shaking Bradigan’s hand in turn. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be on the bridge when you arrived.”
“Probably for the best,” Valeria laughed. She looked past Thorne to the shackled Locke. “I’m sure you’ve had your hands full.”
“I take it Commander Hoban told you about Locke.”
They nodded.
Thorne sighed and shook his head. “I doubt the Commander will ever be able to forgive Locke for what he did, but the reconditioning is going well.”
“You think it was the result of indoctrination?” Bradigan asked.
Thorne nodded. “We were roommates at the academy, I know him better than anyone. After we graduated, I lost contact with him until he suddenly appeared as part of the A.S. Guard project. Something must have happened during that time, I’m certain of it.”
Bradigan could see the solemn look in his eyes as he watched his old friend type away at the console.
Blinking, Thorne turned back to them with a curt bow. “Excuse me, I’d better get back. Enjoy the rest of your time on the station.”
With that, Major Thorne returned to his duty much to the relief of the armed guard who had been watching Locke’s screen over his shoulder. Valeria took her seat again and she and Bradigan watched as Locke, seemingly finished with his research already, was wheeled away.
Writer by Grace 